#compact travel adapters

[crazydiscostu]

Epicka Travel Adapter

Continuing our summer holidays themed reviews (and hot on the heels of our Mytravelpal Travel Adapter review), today we are looking at the Epicka TA-105 World Travel Adapter. Epicka Epicka pride their products on being passports to a world of adventure and discovery. Founded in 2017 the company tasked themselves with a mission to help travellers stay connected no matter where they are in the…

[headspace-hotel]

My Oenothera biennis at home is covered in caterpillars of white-lined sphinx moth. I've never seen one before! I think the caterpillars hibernate underground over the winter and emerge in spring as their adult moth form?

O. biennis is common evening-primrose. It has such a special place in my heart. It was, I believe, the first rescued plant that bloomed for me—I pulled one from a crack in the pavement on the roadside, not knowing what it was, and carefully took care of it until it had grown too big for its pot, at which point I planted it in the front flower bed.

I remember how amazing it was to watch the plant develop pointed buds that opened into large, bright, delicate flowers that were the most gorgeous shade of glowing pale yellow. It was so unlike the rich, heavy, buttery yellows of dandelions and sunflowers and other yellow flowers I was familiar with—this plant had its own yellow, so gentle yet so luminous, almost fluorescent. Each day, a new set of buds formed and opened, beginning late July and continuing into the final days of September.

At last, the plant reached the end of its bright, showy riot of blossoms, and slowly dried up entirely, leaving an array of partially split open seed pods along the stem. O. biennis is biennial, as the name suggests. It germinates the first year, forms a rosette of leaves close to the ground, then the second year, it bolts—rapidly growing its stem upward—and produces tons and tons of flowers until it is utterly spent. As the plant dries out in death, the seed pods slowly curl open, releasing loads of tiny seeds.

The next spring, a strange miracle occurred: Many O. biennis sprouts came up where the seeds had fallen, but instead of creating a neat little rosette of leaves on the ground, they began bolting immediately.

One particularly enthusiastic sprout was already a foot tall by May, and kept growing and growing, to my perplexment. "You're supposed to be biennial! What are you doing?"

But it couldn't be denied—the plants were all preparing to bloom the same year they'd first sprouted. And bloom they did!

The flower bed by the front door was blazing with color.

I saw how people designated O. biennis as a weed—it wasn't compact like the usual garden plants, it grew tall and sprawling like an expansive candelabra of blossoms. It was strong and enthusiastic in spite of poor conditions. But it was so beautiful, I was in love.

I learned that occasionally, O. biennis growing in harsh conditions with low competition, could evolve to have an annual life cycle. Apparently, all the seeds produced by the founding plant inherited this trait.

Yesterday, I visited home and collected seed pods from the one extraordinarily enthusiastic plant that had captured my attention, the one that bolted in spring and began blooming before all the others. I intend to spread those seeds in the goldenrod fields and whatever neglected place a tough plant might thrive.

I feel that the progeny of my one extraordinary plant might be more competitive in areas that are periodically subjected to mowing and bush-hogging. The plants these seeds give rise to could be better adapted to the novel stresses placed upon them in these disturbed environments.

The weakness of O. biennis is that it spreads its seeds simply by gravity and the action of water washing seeds away. Its genetics, however exceptional, cannot travel far. So I am helping it out a little bit, by identifying a plant that has evolved exceptionally well for the stresses of a roadside environment and spreading its seeds as much as I can.

[junedenim]

2009

beneath the boardwalk, part 7 (series masterlist)

secret door

warnings: a tad angsty, a tad fluffy, a tad smutty, a sweet tooth, etc.

word count: 10.5k

Alex and I shared his childhood bed. I spent Christmas and New Year's with my family in Bath, but I made the trip up to Sheffield on the 4th of January for Alex's birthday on the 6th. It was a rather unremarkable birthday but it remains one of the coziest. Alex and I thought about going out to drink but his mum made him a cake. After we ate the cake, we were too tired so we played a game of Cluedo with his parents and went to bed.

After this birthday, I realized I enjoyed Alex's birthday more than my own. My birthdays have had the long tradition of ending in dramatics or sadness or just plain boring. The simplicity of Alex's birthdays has always brought me comfort, maybe because he doesn't want a party. He doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to relax and play Cluedo.

When we went to bed that night, we were practically stacked on top of each other. He offered to sleep on the floor because, although we had done the twin bed shuffle before, it never equalled the best sleep. I denied him and said I would. He denied me so I laid half my body on top of him to not fall off the bed.

I combed his hair back. It had grown out in the desert but was softer than ever. His mum made him get a trim, which tamed up the hair, making it fall perfectly as opposed to his faux sideburn days. "How's 23 feel?"

He shrugged and reached a hand up to push my curtain-like hair behind my ear. My hair was getting long too, which I was thankful for because I didn't want to resemble Alex too much. I had grown my fringe out in the desert. My hair looked shaggier than ever but I kind of liked the roughness of it. Maybe that was the part that resembled Alex's hair. "No different than 22," he said.

"I guess we've passed all the fun ages," I sighed. "We're truly adults now."

Alex smiled softly. "That feels weird. I know we've done all these adult things, but actually being referred to as one is still weird."

"I can always account for you being older than me. That's all that matters."

He shook his head, amused by me. "Those 3 months mean a lot to you."

"Yeah, they must have been the worst 3 months of your life."

"Why?"

"'Cause you were living in a world without me."

He kissed me and then said, "That would truly be." A kiss to the cheek. "Hell." A kiss to the neck. "On." A kiss to the right collarbone. "Earth." A kiss to the right breast.

*

In the latter half of January, the band went on a small Australian & New Zealandian tour. I went because what else would I do? The majority of the tour was for the Big Day Out Festival which was hosted in Sydney, Melbourne, Gold Coast, Adelaide, Perth, and Auckland.

Their first show back in Wellington came with the debut of some Humbug songs, which I had already known of through recording and rehearsals. But seeing "Pretty Visitors" live for the first time ever was life-changing, even if Alex did stand awkwardly with his hands in his jacket's pockets. Like Pinocchio came to life, still not adapted to his new body.

I used the label-comped airfare travel to explore rather than attend most of their concerts. The dates were compacted close together so I was the only one out of our crew that got to defrost from the British winter in the Australian sun.

In February, the band was due to return to California to finish the album. Late one night in Perth, Alex asked me, "Are you coming back?"

It had been a deflected point like most things. Pushed off until someone or something made the decision for me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go back to London alone. I didn't want to be in California alone. Ultimately, the business card from Opal stuck in my wallet tipped the scale.

"I think I want to finish it out," I told him.

Excitement flashed in his eyes but he stayed still. "Are you sure? I'll be back before you know it. Everything will be fast. You won't even miss me."

I tugged at him. "Of course, I'll miss you. And you'll be off on tour soon and I like the idea of going with you but you know I can't do a whole tour with you. I have to be independent."

The greatest accomplishment in my life might be Alex's pride in me. I don't know how I earned his belief in me. It was there right from the moment we met and it never dissipated, even when we broke up. His smile flashed with pride then, small, but always proud in the stances I made for myself.

"I know," he said. "And I love being with you but I like hearing what you get up to when I'm away. And it'll be more flexible this time since you're out of school."

"And, maybe, I could get some work out in LA. Just freelance or something. I feel like I just gave up last time and didn't bother with a job. You know, me and complaining."

"Shush, you're opinionated. It's how I like my women."

"Women?"

He corrected, "Woman."

I chuckled and slotted my head on his shoulder. "I think maybe I'll get in touch with Opal. Maybe one day write for the LA Times. Would that make me a traitor?"

"No," he laughed, "just maybe a red coat." The skin near his eyes crinkled up, pleased with his joke. I prayed to make those wrinkles become permanent, for him to live in a lifetime of laughter, specifically from my jokes but I do get a special funny feeling when he's laughing at his own humor. It's like he's patting himself on the back, something he does physically do.

There was a question of giving in too much to Alex. I was chasing a boyfriend through the world, which was okay because I was traveling and exploring too and I wanted to be with him but I always worried about my association with him—clinging too tightly, representing an image of somebody who lived off of him. At times (and eventually), it consumed me.

*

In our rented LA home there was a bay window, which didn't look out on much other than the road and the opposing house. While Alex was at the studio, I sat there and wrote. By that point, I had compiled my essays in a file I called "LA Times." My intention wasn't to submit the works to the LA Times—I had yet to hear back from Opal on any openings—but it was simply something in the works—a digital diary of those past few Californian months.

I had begun submitting work and didn't hear back. I thought of getting a part-time job or babysitting gig, but it felt like a waste of my degree, and Alex had plenty of funds to go around.

Opal and I went out for drinks and it was the first time I went out in LA, independent from Alex. It was fast fun. Opal talked in excessive sweetness but was snarky in response to any disparity toward her.

She seemed so worldly but had never lived anywhere outside of LA. She wasn't any form of a writer but she worked with writers all day and asked if she could look at my work. I was shyly reluctant but she tugged it out of me. Some small 500-word piece I liked.

She gushed about it (and still does) insisting on me giving her more of my writing. I slowly trickled more pieces to her before she accumulated enough to give to her friend, Jackson Ferrera.

Opal began coming over to our house. If Alex was out late, we'd have dinner together. We drink together most Friday nights. We smoked a joint together once and she laughed so much she peed herself.

Opal and Alex had an interesting relationship. Opal paid compliments to his appearance like she did with everyone but it never verged on sexual or romantic. She was an observer like all of us, but she didn't write about it.

She'd also mock him as most girls do together behind their boyfriend's back. All remaining affectionate and loving. The kind of way I talked about Stacey. She was my pestering little sister who was also my youthful partner-in-crime.

"I love your hair, hon!" She said once to Al after he returned home to us watching Glee on the couch.

"Oh." He patted down the sides of his hair as if he forgot it was on his head. "I guess."

He left the room and Opal turned to me and said, "That man can not take a compliment."

I laughed and shrugged. "I've tried my best. I think he thinks you're lying to him."

"Why?!" Opal's mouth lay agape. "I'm not a liar."

I stared at her speculatively. "Everyone's a liar."

"I'm not." She placed her hand on her chest, insisting to me, "My mom told me to never lie."

I don't know if Opal has ever lied, not expansively. Not even little white lies. If you asked her how her day was, she'd tell you honestly. Maybe she fibbed and told half-truths, but she'd never fake compliment you.

She was judgy. On the other side of her kindness was someone who would honestly tell you that you look ugly in that dress. Her job seemed like her destiny, paid to have an opinion because she wasn't designed for fake niceties. I appreciated and needed the quality. It was a confidence boost and a humbling force.

*

For my birthday, Alex took me to Big Sur. We flew up to San Jose and Alex drove us down to our lodge where I fell asleep and woke up 23.

In the early morning, we walked along Pfeiffer Beach where the water was too cold and dangerous to swim in and the wind blew so hard it blinded us. We abandoned the beach, had lunch, and walked Point Lobos, which felt like we'd walked into a dream. The water waved its blues and the wind waved through the trees just right to create the perfect breeze.

"You know," I said, "this is the first trip we've ever been on. Just you and me."

Alex bowed his head and said, "Suppose that's my fault. At least we've done Wicklow."

"I know, but it doesn't really count. We probably wouldn't have gone if we weren't in Dublin." We both walked with our hands in our pockets and it was easy to think of all those talks we'd had before with our hands stuffed into our jeans pockets.

Alex smiled, his eyes covered with sunglasses, and his hair framing his face. "I'm making up for it now. Best I can." He placed one of his hands on the small of my back; a reassuring touch. Alex often felt insufficient and I wasn't the best at combating that doubt. I know he's carried guilt for self-claimed selfishness. If we were both older I wouldn't have tolerated this in the manner I did at that age. I never cared that he wanted things because he wanted me to be a part of them. However, there was always a sense that Alex had to "make up" for what he had done. I don't know if that hurt me or pleased me.

When we finished the trail we had to go back to our lodge because Alex had slipped down a hill and cut a hole into his jeans. Believe me, very funny, I wish I had it to submit to Funniest Home Videos but alas...

Alex drove for the majority of the trip. I wasn't very good at driving in America. It confused my brain. I reached over, brushing a chunk of his hair behind his ear like he had done for me countless times. "You think you're going to keep it long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

"If you like it," I permitted.

He glanced over and gave me a look. "Does that mean you don't like it?"

I hummed. I had never really thought about it. "No. I like it," I decided. "It makes you look older. I think if you had the same cut as college you'd still look like you were 17."

"You don't think I've aged at all?"

"It's hard to tell. I've never been away long enough to notice a difference. What about me? Do I look older?" I batted my eyelashes.

He chuckled at my brazen show. "You look 23 to me."

*

I got a call from Jackson Ferrera a week after my birthday. I didn't know who he was and almost didn't answer the call when it rang at 10:30 AM, still in bed. Alex had left an hour or two earlier, kissing my forehead and unintentionally waking me up. We mumbled, "Bye, baby" to one another before he left and I drifted back to sleep.

I was in the shower when Alex returned home. It was somewhere around 5 PM and a Wednesday and I hadn't left the house once. I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the bathroom door open and my worries about this becoming a scene from Psycho dissipated when Alex said, "Hey, honey." Isn't it cute? We call each other honey now. It originated from Opal. We imitated her calling everyone "honey" with one another until we actually just ended up calling each other "honey" all the time.

"Hey," I called out over the shower. Alex discarded his clothes and joined me in the shower. We had started doing that more often too. We didn't often have sex in the shower either. I mean, it did happen, but we decided to shower together more in a chaste quality. Alex has the ability to wash your hair in the same way it feels at a salon. It's complete bliss. "How was your day?"

He was my little dog with his long hair getting wet in the shower and sticking to his face. He let the water run over it completely before pushing it back and out of his face. "Good. Fine," he answered. "I feel like I've been hunched over all day." He pecked my lips, a domestic greeting.

I reached down for my conditioner and told him, "I'll rub your back before bed." We might as well be the old married couple with aching backs and a stay-at-home woman willing to soothe them. I don't like to view us as old-fashioned. We were unconventional. British desert Californians, who were a musician and a pretend writer.

Alex took the bottle out of my hand, taking the conditioner into his hands, acting his role of hair masseuse. "You're my savior. I'd have a humpback if it weren't for you."

I shrugged as I turned for him to rub the product in my hair. "I like taking care of you. Shall I have dinner on the table too?"

He scoffed, "God, no. I'd be dead of food poisoning if you did that."

I laughed because I wasn't offended by not having any cooking skills. Alex understood that and has never forced a change on that. "You can't blame me. My parents don't know how to cook either."

"Your parents don't know how to do a lot of things you can do. Excuses, excuses." He clicked his tongue and I giggled as he squeezed one of my butt cheeks. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

I sighed, turning back around to face him, a big smile plastered on my face. "Okay, well, don't freak out because I don't know anything yet."

Alex immediately grabbed my hands, nearing a panic. "What?"

I pushed his hands down. "Calm down," I instructed. "It's not that big of a deal." He relaxed and awaited an answer. "So, I got this call from someone Opal knows. A guy named Jackson Ferrera—"

"Oh, god, Janie, you're leaving me, aren't you?" Alex joked, turning his head away in dramatics, pushing me away, unable to bear the sight of me. "I always knew it."

I slapped his arms away. "Will you shut up? Listen." He looked at me normally and nodded his head. "Opal gave him some of my writing and he's this literary agent and he wants to talk about maybe him representing me—"

I was interrupted by Alex's excitement. "Are you serious? Like a book or something?"

I was reluctant to say anything, not wanting to get his hopes up, my hopes up like speaking it aloud would cancel out any possibilities. "I don't know yet. I haven't even met the guy yet."

"But you're going to?" Alex clutched my waist, his grip filled with giddiness.

I nodded, trying to fight this big smile. "This Friday at noon. And I don't know what it would be yet. He could just recommend me for some stupid literary agent job."

Alex quickly shook his head. "No way, Janie. You're going to make a book."

"I'm not going to make a book," I insisted.

But he fought back, confident as always, "You're going to make a book."

"Don't jinx anything. He might just help me submit some of my pieces to some higher-up magazines. Who knows, by the end of the year, I could be in the New Yorker?"

He scoffed, "You're better than the New Yorker. They'll be begging for your work."

I bumped into him. "Don't say that. I'd love to write for the New Yorker. I'd be happy writing for Playboy at this point."

Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "They do have some really good articles."

I pinched his side and told him to shut it. He wrapped me up in a hug and a dramatic rain—well, shower—kiss. Everything felt like it was landing in place and California did really seem to be a place where dreams came true and all that nonsense that I'll make fun of for the rest of this book but for this one moment, I'll believe to be true. Then, Alex got shampoo in his eye.

"Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck." He clutched his left eye and doubled over. The water and shampoo suds still pouring down his face.

I grabbed his shoulder and asked if he was okay. He insisted on being fine but his hand remained on his eye and he grinded his teeth down before I managed to pull him out of the shower without tripping.

I sat him on the toilet seat, dripping wet, and shampoo still a mess in his hair. "Let me see," I said, drying his face off.

He waved me off. "No, no, I'm fine." His hand remained on his eye with a refusal to remove it.

"Al," I said and tugged at his wrist. He dropped his hand and slowly opened his eye, bloodshot and pink. "Oh, Jesus."

"What? Did it fall out?" He joked.

I snorted a laugh and began searching for eye drops. "It's dried up, that's all."

Then came the struggle of actually getting the eye drops into Alex's eye because he refused to keep his eye open. He kept muttering, "Ow, ow, ow" as each eye drop flooded his eyeball.

Later that night, after I fell asleep in front of American Idol, Alex must have moved me to our bedroom or I slept-walked there. Alex said I did that a few times. When I woke, the red digital clock on my bedside read 2:32 AM. I dug my face into the pillow, pissed I had woken up in the middle of the night. I turned my head and came to the realization Alex was missing if he was ever in bed, to begin with.

I padded across our cold wooden floors barefoot in the dark before I saw the back patio light on and the faint shadow of Alex. I stepped one foot out and saw him, notebook in lap, cigarette in hand, gazing out onto the dark backyard, deep in thought.

"You shouldn't be smoking with your eye," I said hoarsely.

His head tilted back to look at me and he had a soft smirk on his face. "I'll live. Just needed something to relax."

"Take an edible then."

He vibrated off laughter and tapped the ash off his cigarette. "I'll find a different excuse."

I kept one foot outside and one inside, asking, "Do you want some company?"

He shook his head, insisting, "No, no. You sleep."

I was hesitant to move. "You sure?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Just finishing up some writing. I'll be in soon."

"Okay."

I returned to bed and fell asleep before Alex came back but when I woke up in the late morning he was asleep beside me. I wondered what Alex wrote. The beginning verses to "Stuck on the Puzzle" or if he never picked up his pen to begin with? Maybe I read too much into it but Alex never had qualms about me keeping him company while he wrote and our late-night smokes were ritualistic at that point. I believed he thought about something else. Me. Something too personal to share.

With both of us, those secrets that we kept from one another were exclusively worries. I can't help but think Alex knew what was eventually to come from my contact with Jackson. I can't help but think he worried. He always worried, suffering in silence. I screamed about everything and he sat with it, let it stir and brew for days, months, years. It was a habit of our 20s. But Alex always seemed to know, a habitual psychic and I was the palm in his hand.

*

It didn't end up being a book, not at first, but we did a trial period in which I submitted to Jackson who began shopping my pieces around to publishers. I was terrified and didn't tell anyone other than Alex and Opal for fear it would fall through and fail. Jackson felt confident and I supposed that helped, although I couldn't comprehend a world where I wrote a book, even though, for years, I had already written books in my notebook.

I tried not to think about it much. We were coming up on Alex going back on tour again and the question of whether to stay in LA rose, which was really just whether I would. I didn't like the thought of being in LA without Alex. I found the city rather unappealing but I didn't know where I'd return to. London was an option but I don't know how at home I would've felt there. It's cheesy to say Alex is my home because he's a person and I found that statement to be rather exaggerated. In those days, I just felt more comfortable wherever he was, maybe because I was so aimless myself, but I knew that I finally found a direction to go in.

One of my pieces did end up in The Village Voice. Alex paid to have a print copy sent, and he framed it. It embarrassed me so much that I stuffed it into drawers when we had guests over.

One night, we went to a party on some random Monday and sat on the uncomfortable fancy chairs, drinking cocktails. Alex had an Old Fashioned, I had a Cosmopolitan. It was an affair with some elegance, though I can't remember what it was actually for. We both vowed not to get drunk because we couldn't be hungover on a Tuesday.

I had my hand on Alex's knee and he had his arm around the back of my chair. I think the dinner they served was chicken but I don't remember. It wasn't very good either way.

"Do you think I should get my Master's?" I asked Alex.

He sipped his drink with his left hand and lightly tapped my shoulder with his right. "Why would you do that?"

I shrugged and picked up my Cosmo, trying to be Carrie Bradshaw in hopes it would get me a job as luxurious as hers. Or maybe just the clothes and the apartment. "Something to do. I like the idea of going to school here."

Alex's brows furrowed as he looked over at me. "But you hated school."

"That's not true."

He chuckled. "J, you complained about it all the time."

Maybe I did. I don't remember. It's like when people have babies and they forget how hard labour was so their bodies trick them into having more kids. "I liked the structure of it. Plus, a Master's would allow a more flexible schedule and you'll be away on tour soon so it'd be something to do."

Alex shook his head. "I don't think you'd like it."

I frowned. "Maybe I would."

"I mean..." Alex searched for what to say. "I just think you're getting somewhere with your writing and you're running away from it."

I rested my head on my hand. "Maybe."

Alex reached out and pushed my hair out of my face. "Whatever you do you'll be great at. Just do what you love, okay?"

His smirk put me on edge and I raised my eyebrow. "What? Like you?"

"Huh?" His face looked puzzled, worried that he had offended me somehow.

"I love you so you want me to do you?"

He threw his head back in laughter. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Janie."

*

The whole Master's idea felt foolish. So, I decided to do it, except it was March and way past the time for applications. In the meantime, I tried to figure out what I would do while Alex was away. I felt I should have wanted to leave Los Angeles after all my bitching and moaning, but something drew me to stay. There was a new friend in Opal but I didn't have any job prospects through her or Jackson. Freelance could fit but I didn't want it to fit. The idea of me writing a book burrowed more inwardly to my mind as Jackson stopped mentioning book deals and directed me more toward staff writing jobs to get my name out there.

But I felt that LA had wrapped its warmth around me and suffocated me long enough to want to stay. I liked America and I liked the city, but I also had a visa to worry about. I was over on a tourist Visa and since all work I had done was freelance, I was paid as if I was located in England still. I could fly back and stay for another 180 days or I could get a work visa, which meant getting a job.

That's when Condé Nast appeared. Jackson had unofficially become my unpaid job seeker, doing it solely for me as a favour. I suspected he felt bad for not achieving a book deal and decided to help me out. The Condé Nast position was for a product writer and reviewer. The issue was I had no history with a full-time writing job, but either Jackson had connections or they felt pity for me, too, so I got the job.

So, it wasn't LA, it would be New York.

Alex loved the idea and boasted about it to everyone, kissing my cheek after each statement, and squeezing me to his side. As for New York, he simply said, "It's your turn."

He would be away on tour anyway, so it didn't matter much other than that he would crash at whatever housing I picked in New York. We flew to New York in June. I had never been to New York in the summer. I had never been with Alex in New York.

Usually on our excursions, I dragged Alex around the town and up the hills. In New York, Alex dragged me to the Strand, Chelsea Hotel, the Mudd Club, the Transit Museum, and, most importantly, the turtle pond in Central Park.

Beside the box turtles and red-eared sliders, Alex and I rested against a rock as they padded their way shoreside. He wore a baby blue shirt and picked at his jeans, his mannerisms the same as when I spotted him across the room. "Do you remember when you used to have writing on your jeans?"

He looked up at me, smiling, pushing his hair behind his ears, pounds of fluff. "Yeah."

"What was written on them?" Those blurs of red markings and my wish to know those depths of his soul as if what he was really thinking was written on the knees of his jeans.

He shrugged and almost shamefully said, "Just song lyrics. Strokes and stuff."

"You wrote on them?"

"Yeah."

"I always figured that your mates had written on them. My Converses used to be covered in Joanie's handwriting and hearts." I hadn't thought of her for a long time. Nothing in America reminded me of Wakefield and so Joanie never came to mind.

Alex broke me out of my thoughts, asking, "Can I write on your trainers?"

I raised my eyebrows. "On my new shoes? Can I write on your jeans?"

"Sure." He pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to me. His quickness made me hesitate but I pulled the pen from his fingers and thought of what to write. I could've drawn a penis but I wasn't that cruel. The black pen was faint against the dark blue denim but I repeated my sketching until the letter was clear enough. I wrote my name because I couldn't think of anything else. What's more beautiful than a person's name? Gross.

Alex seemed to like it, a grin upturning on his face, and an eyebrow raised against me. "Why don't you draw a heart around it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to put an arrow through it too?"

He laughed but said, "Sure." I didn't add the heart or arrow. It would be too cheesy and ruin my beautiful cursive name. I returned the pen to him and he tapped his hand over the writing. "With me every step of the way."

I giggled, both embarrassed and charmed. "You gonna get it tattooed?"

I joked but he took it shockingly seriously. "Do you want me to?"

I bolded my eyes and tilted my head. "Stop," I chastised him. "I'm not trying to brand you. I won't even let you write on my shoes and you're willing to get me permanently on your body?"

"Those are nice shoes," he countered.

"You've got a nice body," I argued.

"It'll add to it."

Whether it was sweetness or idiocy, it did feel like love. I raised my legs and plopped my feet in his lap. "Alright. Write away on them then." They were just trainers anyway and his name in a heart with an arrow through it was worth much more.

Afterwards, we toured an apartment. Previous apartments we had toured had been far above my expected salary. Alex had this need to contribute to the apartment's rent despite not getting a break from touring until late October. I had a need to pay rent for myself. I never lived on my own and I felt this apartment should be my apartment, even though Alex's stuff would be there. 

Alex understood all of this, although still pushed to contribute some to the rent and, well, I'm never one to deny financial assistance so we made a deal that he would pay me for storing his stuff while he was gone and I would pay for the rest. This all meant those apartments next to Central Park were out of the question. So, we headed downtown, Petula Clark style. 

"You know, this area is called SoHo too?" I asked him as we walked down Thompson Street. He shook his head and I explained, "It's because it's south of Houston Street. So. Ho."

He chuckled and nodded. "It'll be like a little piece of home with you."

It turned out to be. I found a place on Prince Street for a reasonable amount. 1 bed. 1 bath. Windows that drenched the floors in sunlight, a big closet, and—the thing I was most excited for—a bathtub.

On our first night there, Alex and I attempted to do the romantic having-a-bath-together thing. I purchased a bubble bath solution from Target and Alex got a bottle of wine from Wine and Spirits. We felt very American in both stores. 

"I can't remember the last time I took a bath," Alex said as he sank into the warm oasis.

"They used to just spray you down with a hose, right?" I joked as I sipped on my wine.

Alex cupped his hand in the water and sent a splash my way. "Hey! You got water on the floor. And in my wine." I frowned at the bubbles resting on the surface of the wine.

"I'll get you another glass," he said as he stood.

I reached out and grabbed his leg. "Don't leave."

At my request, he sank back into the water. "Here. You can have mine." He stuck out his half-full glass. I leaned forward and kissed the back of the hand that was holding it. My version of thank you as I took the glass from his hand. 

He stretched his legs out and we kept poking each other until I took Alex's feet into my lap. I lightly rubbed on the left one, his big toe sticking out above the water. I felt sinking in myself and refused to look at him. I was becoming too soft. "I'm gonna miss you."

Alex sighed. I knew he hurt more than me. I missed him and we loved each other the same but I knew he had to deal with two kinds of pain. His and mine. We had to deal with missing each other and he had to deal with the guilt. I always told him it was ridiculous to feel guilty because I never held any resentment toward him for going away. But I guess we never properly addressed all that ugly stuff from the past, only in fights, and we never concluded properly, just in exhaustion.

But I think we both knew that communication would be the difference this time. The band was more established. I was more established. I think I would have hated being alone in our LA house without Alex but something about New York, feeling it was mine, made me feel a little freer.

"I'm sorry," he said.

I shook my head. "Don't apologize. I'm proud of you."

"Proud of you too." I looked up to see the big smile on his face. You know, it heals anything.

I slide deeper into the tub, the water covering my neck. I was bare-skinned and my insides were beginning to feel the same. "I'm nervous."

"We'll be fine," he assured.

I shook my head. "I know. I'm nervous for me. Being alone and the new job."

His hand found my leg in the water, stroking it. "You'll make friends in no time and you're a whiz."

"But what if I hate it?" I sounded wobbly like I was about to tip off the edge.

Alex, the calm force dragging me through life, said, "Then, on to the next thing."

I held a smile to him. One he returned. "My mother would say I'm being picky."

"Your mother who drinks for a living?"

I held offence when Alex spoke of my mother. The things he said were true but my whole life I’ll feel the need to protect her. At that age, I still felt destined to unknowingly become her. In that way, Alex was insulting future me. "Hey! She does other things. Probably."

Alex laughed and pulled his feet from me, curling his legs. "Alright. I'm cramping here." He rose from the tub, swishing the water around, peeking at the edges.

I gasped. "Even if the foot rub I gave you?"

We moved out of LA pretty quickly but yet again transporting all your belongings from one side of the country to another was a pain. We enlisted the help of friends but in New York, we were on our own for the most part, other than some hired movers. We weren't getting that couch up the stairs.

The band did a few festivals in Europe in July before returning for a New York show at the beginning of August. I was only a few weeks into my job and it was the fulfillment and structure I needed, although I wasn't doing much writing. I was fine with working my way up, setting an achievement, and moving forward. It was a mostly new idea for me.

After their concert, we did the ritual of bar hopping. I invited my new friend, Tasha, and her boyfriend to join us, however, her boyfriend ditched her after the show, which led her to get very drunk and weepy and therefore pulled me away from any time of catching up with the group. Although, they seemed very consumed by the drama.

"I don't mean to put this all on you," she cried to me. "But he said he was gonna buy me a drink tonight and I—" she was taking away into sobs.

"I'll buy you a drink," Matt offered.

"Really?" It was in fact her fifth drink. She had quickly consumed the first 2 from the rounds and pulled the other 2 from me. "I really liked him, you know. I love him, I think."

"We know, sweetie." I felt bad for her but all the crying was becoming quite tiresome, especially with a girl you had only known 2 weeks in the setting of an office space.

She sat up straight, wiping away that wetness on her face when Matt arrived back with a drink. For the time being, she calmed her waterworks with a gulp of liquor. "You wouldn't do this to Jane, would you Alex? Why can't I find a guy like that?"

I chuckled, "Alex ditches me all the time."

To the side of me, Alex's head snapped to me. "What?" His face was etched with a furrowed brow and a frown.

I turned to him wide-eyed and confused. "What?"

"I don't ditch you."

My mouth created a slight opening in bafflement. "Yeah, you do. Or did." I turned back to Tasha. "Either way, they're all assholes, you just have to find the asshole that fights you."

"Ha. Asshole." Jamie laughed.

While Jamie found humour in the situation and Tasha found slight comfort, Alex found offense. "You think I'm an asshole?"

I turned back to him. "Yeah. Don't you think I'm a bitch?"

His eyes were wide at the word like we were kids taught to put coins in the swear job. His response was quick. "No."

I tried my best to give it to him in an explanation that would placate him. "Okay. Well, I get on your nerves or whatever. Either way, you just have to find the guy that fits you. Now, I think we should get you a cab." Tasha nodded with a sniffle. 

After I stuck Tasha in a cab, I stayed outside to have a cigarette. I had a weird feeling in my stomach that I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or something emotional. I had a rash on my left leg that I labelled as being from stress but I wasn't sure what it was stress from. I felt a pressure on my chest and the perfect solution was a cigarette.

It wasn't a smoke signal for Alex to join me although I should have thought that considering our history and the perfect view from our table out the window to the street. He came out halfway through the ash and walked with hair in his face and hands in his pockets.

When he stepped in front of me, I reached out and brushed his hair out of his face and wondered if he felt this way—this feeling of caring, uncovering someone for your gaze—every time he did it for me. I tucked it behind his ear and peeked the small smile underneath that shaggy head. It tickled me, exposing a silent laugh from my lips. 

"You really think I'm an asshole?" He asked. His tone was playful but I knew he was worried I considered him to be one of them. That breed of man who brushed women off after they got their goods as if he hadn't loved and cared for me since the moment we met.

I held my palm over his cheek, holding my hand over his fire, rubbing the lobe of his ear. I just wanted to hold him forever and I felt like crying at the thought I couldn't. I don't know where the sudden emotion came from but I suppose by this point it isn't shocking to find myself crying, especially after 3 drinks outside a bar. I couldn't speak so I shook my head and kept the overwhelming pathos at bay by the rhythmic stroking of his ear. 

"I missed you," he said.

I cut any further words he had off with a shake of my head, a dismissiveness I needed. "I don't want to talk about missing each other anymore." The gates fell and I dropped my arm away from his shoulder, picking at my nails as my voice quivered. "All I talk about is missing you."

"Jane."

Exasperated with myself, I shook my head and looked away not to cry. "I just want to enjoy the night." I looked at him, listening attentively, eyes trained on me. "I don't want to think about you leaving tomorrow night and I'm fine, trust me, but I feel this ache all the time and I don't want to feel this ache while you're here and I don't want to talk about this ache because I know it's mutual so let's stop talking about it and pretend that this is just any other night in our lives and we're in Sheffield, grabbing a pint with our mates or something." 

I laughed wetly. He reached out to me and brushed my hair behind my ear and it made everything feel alright. "This feels pretty Sheffield, doesn't it?"

"What?"

He shrugged and took out his pack of cigarettes, plucking one, and placing it in between his lips. "Light me up, Janie, would ya?"

A smile tugged my lips and I dug into my purse one-handed for my lighter. He leaned forward, the end of it so close to me I could take a bite of it. I lit the flame between us and then to his cigarette. He took a puff before stepping back to exhale, his eyes stuck with mine. 

"I love you. I feel like we don't say that enough," I told him. He stood away from me but I felt so close to him like we had wrapped ourselves up in a fort of blankets, not standing in the humid August streets. 

"You don't have to say it for me to know it. Hasn't that always been our MO?" In wordless whispers and those longing stares, we had always spoken with some underlying language that didn't even make perfect sense to us, it was just there. 

"Yeah. Still, I want to remind you."

He chuckled and stepped closer, hooking his arm around my neck, and pulled me beneath his chin with a long gaze down at me. "I love you too, Janie. And all the rest."

"The rest?" I questioned.

His Adam's apple bopped and he looked up at the sky for a moment as if God was giving him the all-clear. His eyes reintroduced themselves to me. "There's this weight of love inside me that I'll never be able to express to you. It's just there, a consuming being that flares up whenever you're near me or I think about you. It's this constant. I've had it since I thought your name was Jeanie and I still don't know how to talk about it or what to call it—all this unexpressed love."

"It seems like you did." I tried not to sob. I thought of Tasha, likely crying in a cab, and I know I've always been a fortunate girl and I've been called lucky since birth, but I never felt like I truly won anything other than meaningless games until I was brought to Alex. I thought of all those missteps I could have taken to have never met Alex about how many things had to go a certain way for me to be at that first gig. How—I guess—I have to thank Matt, although that part is reluctant for me to say (a fear it will go to his head). But I kept it all inside and didn't tell Alex this because I think this is part of that weight of love I still can't fully express. "Are you sure it's not a tumor?"

He laughed at me and kissed the top of my head. My cigarette had been scuffed out against his jeans so we shared the rest of his before Alex suggested, "I think we should head home." I had never confessed how romantic I thought the idea of going home with Alex was to me but I have a feeling he just knew because he always just knows.

He took me by the hand and took me back inside the bar where we said goodbye to our party of people and I smacked a kiss on the cheek to each of them. They've always felt like brothers-in-law to me but I found as we grew older and closer, they were my friends too.

We headed back to our apartment, taking the A train. Alex held my purse for me and we sat in a sweaty, non-air-conditioned subway car, and it felt as though we were in London on the tube, praying for a gust of wind to come in through the little window and provide momentary relief. 

It was too hot to touch each other's skin so we held a small space between us and knocked knees with one another. Alex sat hunched over, his hands sitting on the top knee of his crossed legs. I leaned back against the plastic orange chair. The train was mostly empty but we filled its quietness with laughter. Halfway through the ride, that sentimental fuzzy part of me took a picture of him. I still owned a flip phone for the sole purpose of having a slideout keyboard, not known for having a good camera, and the photo was mostly unrecognizable to anybody but me, which might be why I liked it so much. 

I’d take these photos often and flip through them occasionally when I was waiting for the subway. I printed some out and pinned them on the walls because I didn’t want to buy picture frames. I folded one up and put it in my wallet because I always loved that Alex had a photo of me in his wallet—a tiny crushed-up photo of my graduation portrait, ugly, but he had pride for it and me).

Without Alex, the apartment had succumbed to my mess. There were clothes tossed in the corner of the bedroom, the desk was covered in papers, books, and more clothes, and the kitchen was dealing with a major dishes problem.

The hour was late but we were both determined to soak up as much time with one another as possible. We undressed from the day and dressed for bed, but sat on the edge of our bed over the covers, talking, talking, talking. Two frogs croaking at one another from across the pond. All we needed was Charlton Brook and we'd be our old selves again. 

"I never thought I'd like work. I'm not in love with this job but I come home and my feet ache and I love it. I like feeling I worked for something," I told him. "I think I need firm direction in my life otherwise I turn into a mess."

Alex looked pleased but all-knowing. He knew all these parts of me before I did. "You were raised without it so you crave it in other aspects." He leaned back on the bed, putting his arms behind his head, so casual in every sense of the word.

"Who needs a therapist when I have you?" I asked. He laughed but I was serious (both good and bad). He's an observer, he just knows these things from one look at you. He reads you completely and then acts like it's nothing. I feel I know Alex well, better than anyone, but not like he knows me. I've always felt there was a piece of Alex that was off-limits to everyone, even himself sometimes. There's a corner of him I will never reach. For him, my thoughts have always been a nude model on full stark display.

Alex turned onto his side and reached a hand over to me, clasping it with a tight squeeze. "You happy?" It was a quick check-in, the reassurance he needed that he wouldn't leave me totally screwed up and alone. Alex often had the feeling of needing to "rescue me," which was partially true but he took too much on sometimes, bearing the weight of both our emotional states, an overwhelming thing that put so much consequence on the question he asked like I wasn't just answering for me, I was also answering for him.

I squeezed back to ease his anxieties. "Yeah. You?" He stayed silent and looked around the room once, startling my heart. He tugged on my arm once as a smirk spread on his face. "What?" 

He tugged again, this time harder. I stared at him quizzically until he pulled once again, yanking me down to lay on top of him. He communicated with his lips, both silent minus gasps. He turned us, hovering over me, flat on my back. We got under the covers.

*

The following night we stayed in and ordered a pizza before having sex on the couch. After, I laid on Alex's chest, our nude bodies up against each other and I do apologize to anybody who sat on the couch after, I swear it wasn't that dirty. His hands were solid on my back, studying the lower curve of my spine, hitting a spot that made me stretch like a cat after a nap.

I sighed as the tension released from my back and laid back down on his sternum. "We're awfully vanilla," I said.

Alex snorted this big ugly snort of laughter that I find so cute like a baby learning how to breathe. "What, like chains and whips?"

I laughed and raised my head up, my chin pressed on his skin, staring up at his tucked head, awkwardly propped up on the armrest. "No. Georgia just told me this story about doing it on the roof of her building."

An amused Alex asked, "You want to head up on our roof now?"

He motioned sitting up but I pushed him back down. "We have an exposed roof. I'm not getting the cops called on us."

"Where's the fun in that if there isn't a little risk of indecent exposure?" He joked.

I giggled and thought of making a joke about getting visas revoked for public nudity, instead, I told him, "We're hiding tonight. Besides, I don't need all that for sex to be fun with you."

He bucked his hips up against mine. "'Cause I'm so good in bed?" He raised an eyebrow and wore a taunting smirk that made me want to slap and kiss him. How infuriating to be so intoxicated by him.

"'Cause you love me," I teased, tapping his nose. I slobbered a kiss on his cheek, which made him groan in disgust like it was his mother doing it in front of all his friends. "And you're going to take me to get ice cream because I'm thinking about vanilla ice cream now."

"From Morgenstern's?" He asked me, even though he knew the answer.

I sat up from him, noting his eyes on my exposed breasts (sometimes, it's nice to know a man is still a boy), and hummed, "Yes, sir." Morgenstern's sat two blocks up on Houston and in the past few months, I had developed an addiction to their bourbon vanilla ice cream and considered it my special treat after a day of work. Alex was partial to salted chocolate, which I always thought was a good balance with mine, especially since he'd let me steal scoops off his cone and mix it with my cup of ice cream.

Alex went out in jeans, a T-shirt, and his Doctor Martens. I went out in sweatpants, a camisole, and my flip-flops. It was 11:40 and only 2 blocks away! 

I was charged up and kissed him behind his ear as he paid for the ice cream. We must have been foul to look at with our hair unbrushed and a careless woman hanging off her good-looking man. I often had little care about how I looked at night in New York. Everyone in New York, one way or another, was loathsome to watch at night so I had no problem with the idea the cashier might have hated us for coming in right before closing, dangling around as we waited. Besides, Alex left a tip.

My hands clawed around Alex's shoulders and I bounced on the balls of my feet as they scooped our ice cream. We ate our ice cream on the small bench they had outside the parlour. Alex ended up with smears of chocolate on the corners of his lips. It was pleasurable to see him so untidy, it would make you laugh and kiss his lips, transferring some of the residue onto you like lipstick.

Alex chased me up the stairs of our apartment building with the menace of pinching my ass to coerce squeals out of me. We caused a ruckus, loud off of our sugar high, but, at the very least, not stumbling drunk up the stairs like some of my other neighbors. Alex caught me at the apartment door. I had no escape, he had the keys. He cornered me and gave a hard pinch working his way up from my butt to my stomach where I was ticklish.

"Mercy! Mercy!" I surrendered. He called off his attack, ready to head inside for some explicitness. 

He put the key in, turned it, and then it snapped. He held the bow, the shaft lodged in the lock. "Fuck," he cursed.

Panic set in as Alex fiddled with the doorknob with no luck. "Fuck. Are we locked out?" I asked.

He picked at the lock, muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." 

It soon became clear that we were stuck. It was nearing 1 AM, I desperately had to pee, and Alex had to leave in 6 hours. "Can we kick the door in?"

"Are you suggesting either of us is strong enough to break the deadbolt?" Alex stood up straight, tossing his head back in exhaustion.

I shrugged. "I don't know. You're pretty fit." He was proper chuffed by this, a slight puff in his chest. "I could try."

"With your flip-flops?" They were the cheap kind. I bought them at 5 Below. "If we break the door the whole building can walk in."

Not knowing the number of any emergency locksmiths, I called 911 and waited at the bottom two steps of the staircase facing the front door. "I guess this is what I get for eating too much ice cream," I quipped.

"No such thing," Alex excused. 

Shrouded in quietness and a reputation of lacking patience, I laid my head on Alex's shoulder and would have fallen asleep if my bladder wasn't prepared to burst. Alex tapped a beat on the denim-covered knee and we didn't talk, just stayed close, two beings huddled together for survival and companionship.

Firefighters came and had no luck removing the broken key so they busted into the apartment. We couldn't lock it but we could at least close it. I rushed in for the bathroom. I laid down on our bed and waited for Alex while he used the bathroom. I fell asleep before he returned.

In the morning, Alex nudged me awake. He was fully dressed and by the light stumbling in through the window, I knew what it meant. "I fell asleep. Why'd you let me?"

"Figured if you fell asleep while I was in the bathroom you were pretty tired." Over the covers, flip flops kicked off the edge of the bed, in the two minutes he was away.

"'Kay." I was still fiddling out of sleep when Alex tapped my arm, an insisting action to make me stay in bed. "Let me walk you out."

"No, stay in bed, it's fine." He kneeled beside the bed, forcing my hand.

"You sure?"

He nodded. "I'll see you in a little. Yeah?" He kept it short. It was the easier way.

I rubbed my eye, knowing I wouldn't be going back to sleep as much as Alex hoped I would. "Yeah. I'll try to get off sometime in September."

"Don't feel pressured. I'll see you in Philly, right?" That would be over a month away, 30th of September.

I nodded because it was easier than speaking. "Call me when you get to Boston."

He donned an assuring smile, leaned down, and kissed me. He left and I made myself a cup of coffee and drank it and sat with silence.

*

On a Wednesday, after a day of work, I took the train down to Philadelphia. I had never been before and part of me wanted to enjoy all the tourist things about it but I had limited time between 30th Street Station and heading to the Electric Factory. 

However, I made a pit stop along the way, getting off the subway, and meeting Alex at the Reading Terminal Market for a late lunch/early dinner. It wasn't the Art Museum or Independence Hall but it allowed a cultural indulgence of the city. 

Alex wore a jean jacket and didn't look like a man about to front a sold-out show. We bumped shoulders with passersby as we made our way through the narrow passageways. Alex got a cheesesteak, which I found disgusting. I ate a soft pretzel and assorted candy from a Pennsylvania Dutch candy shoppe.

We managed to find a table wedged between dad with his two kids and a group of high schoolers. Safe to say, we had trouble hearing each other over the chaos but we communicated through shared observations, reacting with a stare at one another as the father began to yell at his son or a laugh at the high schoolers mocking one of their teachers.

We hadn't really spoken until we left the building, stepping out into the beginnings of a crisp autumn evening. Alex bought me ice cream from Bassetts (as if I needed more sugar) and gave the change to a group of busking drummers by the door. 

I grabbed Alex's attention at a stoplight as I dragged out, "So..." 

He chuckled at my solicitation, dragging out his own, "So..."

The light turned green and we stayed in step with one another. I initiated the conversation but I had no follow-up for my So-ing. Sometimes, I just wanted to look at him but walking and staring is a difficult practice. "One of my pieces is going to be in this magazine n+1. Something I wrote back in LA, Jackson submitted forever ago."

"Is it going to be printed?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I think you can read it online."

Quickly, he shook his head. "I want the physical thing."

I laughed. "Always one for physical media, Al." It was clear with the record collection I was storing in a small New York apartment. You had transferred this habit onto me as I went out to purchase the New York Times from a street kiosk instead of reading it online.

"It'll be easier. I can read it on a plane, on the bus, on the toilet."

I hit his shoulder light-heartedly. "Alright, I'll get you the print."

*

At the end of October, Alex returned from Tokyo for a small tour break. We fell into a cycle similar to that of our London days. I went to work, Alex stayed home. We went out to dinner sometimes, and we occasionally went out for drinks with my work friends, but more often, we just stayed home. It was a cocoon and I think we both preferred to stay still with one another after distant months apart.

I drank coffee in bed one morning, a Saturday or Sunday with no rush for any obligations, fine with retiring to a day in our shoebox. We were both still in our pajamas. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, facing me, strumming his guitar. I was on my laptop, scrolling through someone's blog, but mostly watching him.

These unguarded moments with his head slumped over his guitar. His hair covered his face almost completely, only able to distinguish his nose from the rest of him. The ends of his hair held these perfect curls that I envied. He's been perceived to be a cool, uncaring person but I've found Alex, especially during these early years, held such a concern about coming off a certain way, whether considered cold or cool. A long-held hatred for unwanted watching, even from me.

His muscles had suspended into relaxation finally. I found he acquired this rest most often with a guitar. He held a light strum, sometimes humming along, sometimes writing a note in his little notebook.

I thought I was catching an unaware Alex working away, much like our first year of knowing each other. Then, he looked up and said, "If you're going to stare at me, you might as well help me." He tossed me his notebook with dashes and scratches that to the untrained eye looked like a chicken scratch of nothing.

I read it and this time I could feel him watching me. I poured over the words as he had done with his writing and when I finished I said, "I feel so inadequate next to you."

"Shut up," he insisted, both through his support of me and his own insecurity.

"It's a beautiful song." I handed the notebook back to him. "A very beautiful love song." I crossed my arms, smiling at him.

"Well, you know."

"Yeah." Because I always did. This loving, hideous, unspoken language of ours.

 "Good inspiration. You gave me the title." Alex took months of crafting before giving something exposure, like formulating a fine wine. 

"Well, you wrote the rest of it," I reasoned. "Is it for the new album?"

He shrugged and examined his own work. "I don't think so. Maybe just for you and me."

*

a/n: this is pretty much for goblinontour. the next parts will come much sooner, we're approaching the thick of it... oh, and if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

[monst]

General Jason Todd hc’s

General Jason Hc's, Mildy angsty, Mostly random:

   The most likely to actually go to therapy. Stick with it and apply what he’s learned to his life. Not that it’d be easy for him but since I like the outlaws (More so Artemis and Bizarro) I think his decision to go would be aided by observing Lian and Roy. It could be small things too, watching how Roy lets Lian express her frustration and anger and he tells Jay in passing. “It’s frustrating for me too but you’re allowed to feel your feeling” He’d probably like that he’d be able to better gauge his tells, see what triggers him and adapt. (By either leaving or restructuring his thoughts) 

   Not sure if this is a hc but he’s ridiculously kind. He plays at being an asshole and if you believe him even better. It’s something he’ll have to unlearn but he doesn’t think he’s a good person. He does good but he’s not good type shit. (Which is baloney.) It mostly stems from his past actions Mostly the murders But he’ll catch himself speaking much harsher and wish it hadn’t come out that way. Or he’ll snap at someone if he feels like they’re closing in on him and making him uncomfortable Really doesn’t like feeling his feelings. He’ll think back on that and use that as an excuse to say he isn’t kind/good. It’s why he’s okay being the villain sometimes. Real Bruce like to punish yourself ya know

   Fruit jelly. He loves it. No particular reason for this I just think he’d like them. Specifically the ones you can slurp from a straw or the fun fruit shaped ones. 

  Is a struggle meal aficionado. Only have rice and eggs? He’s dressing it up and you best believe it’s going to taste great. Well if condiments are available... And cup noodles have never tasted so extravagant. 

  Has a pink compact mirror courtesy of one Stephanie Brown. Why? I think he tried reading “House of Leaves” as a child but didn’t finish it. Picked it back up later on and one night Stephanie wanted to crash at his safehouse and caught him holding the book up towards the bathroom mirror. She got tired of his footsteps going back and forth from his reading spot to the bathroom, then got annoyed when he holed up in the bathroom to read. She chucked the thing at him and he’s kept it. 

  Whereas Dick loses all his socks and sometimes doesn’t even wear them Jason always has to have them on. He doesn’t like when his feet get cold. Reminds him of when he was slumming it, so he likes his toes warm. That and barefoot in Gotham? That’s crazy! Wears them with slides too. Ignore canon and all the times his dogs have been out, this is a hc

 Loves arcades. Shooting games are his jam and he’s got the highest score the Jurassic park arcade game. He’s also nasty at Skee ball. Anything that requires precision and aim. Which is pretty self explanatory..

   Has a kindle Bruce gifted him. He lies and says that he doesn’t use it and prefers the weight of actual books thank you very much! All his favorites are downloaded... But he still claims he pawned the thing, no one believes him because it's always in his pack when he goes on long missions

  Most often than naught he’s more bark than bite. Not that he wont follow through but most of his taunts are bluffs. Bluff that he could pull off but bluffs none the less. Especially in regards to his family. But he has punted Damian off a roof before. He did not look over the side to make sure the kid was okay. 

    He has a secret tattoo. It’s relatively small but It’s faded and distorted by all his scars. He can’t tell what it used to be. He thinks he got it while traveling during his league training but hell if he knows. 

  Loves his body. Although I hc that he’s got knee pain, right leg to be specific. Landing on all that mass almost religiously, carrying heavy equipment and basically all his work as a vigilante isn’t exactly doing his joints any favors but He likes his body. Likes that he can use his strength to help others, likes that he can still do flippy robin shit and crack skulls with a single punch if he pleases. It makes him feel safe.. Cause had he maybe been a bit bigger…

 Is prone to overthinking like the rest of his family. But he tends to spiral easier, it’s why he’s always cleaning out his guns more than necessary. The dismantling/reassembling process settles his thoughts. It allows him to focus on the movement of his fingers and after a time his mind focuses on the next piece that needs to be moved.

   Is more of a car guy than a bike guy. Honestly this is how he and Bruce sometimes bond. Usually when Bruce has done or said something dickish and wants to make amends he picks up a couple nasty burgers and heads over to a garage Jason owns under a pseudonym. He’ll get underneath the body of an old Mercedes they’re working on and wait for Jason to tell him to leave or hand him something. He usually doesn’t leave but only because sometimes Jason takes the opportunity to yell out his grievances. 

    Is pretty dense when it comes to people liking him. Whether romantically or platonically. 

The food network channel is his baby. He loves watching cooking competitions and has a list of dishes he'd like to replicate. Speaking of cooking, he doesn't do it often with how busy he is but he tries his best to fit it in. He's always a bit hesitant to have people try his food tho.

[pleistocene-pride]

Happy Ice Age Week: Homotherium is an extinct genus of machairodontine scimitar-toothed cat that inhabited North America, South America, Eurasia, and Africa from the Pliocene to the Pleistocene epochs around 4 million to 12,000 years ago. Making them to be one of the most widespread of all felines throughout time second only to the domestic cat. The first fossils known to belong to homotherium consisting of a partial skeleton were described in 1846 by Richard Owen as the species Machairodus latidens. It wouldn’t be until 1890 after several addition specimens where recovered that one Emilio Fabrini would determine them to be a distinct genus which he dubbed Homotherium for the Greek homos meaning same and therion meaning beast. Over the next century and a half hundreds of specimens have been recovered representing over a dozen species including: H aethiopicum,‭ ‬H crenatidens,‭ ‬H crusafonti,‭ ‬H hadarensis,‭ ‬H idahoensis,‭ ‬H ischyrus,‭ ‬H johnstoni,‭ ‬H latidens,‭ ‬H nestianus,‭ ‬H nihowanensis,‭ ‬H sainzelli,‭ ‬H serum,‭ ‬H ultimum,‭ ‬and H venezuelensis. Reaching on average 3.5ft (1.1m) tall at the shoulder and 425lbs (190kg) in weight, homotherium was around the size of a male African lion. Homotherium had shorter upper canines than other machariodonts such as Smilodon or Megantereon, but these were still longer than those of extant cats. The incisors and lower canines of Homotherium formed a powerful puncturing and gripping device, and its jaws were adapted to clamp and hold prey while inflicting damage with the canine teeth. Homotherium is notable for its unusual shape and proportions, with a comparatively compact torso and long legs. They had thick necks, large shoulders, and a sloped back giving them a profile more akin to a hyena than other big cats. These adaptations mean that Homotherium was built for energy efficient travel,‭ ‬and may have used this advantage to wear prey down in a manner similar to how wolves will constantly harass a prey animal until it collapses from exhaustion. This anatomy coupled with findings of multiple homotherium individuals found to have died together, points to Homotherium being a well adapted diurnal social pursuit/ persistence predator.

Art utilized was made by the following creators

Scimitar Toothed Cat: Michael Westbury https://www.eurekalert.org/multimedia/583429

Homotherium: allotyrannosaurus https://www.deviantart.com/allotyrannosaurus/art/White-Homotherium-909661018

Homotherium: Mauricio Anton

Homotherium: Julio Lacerda https://paleoart.tumblr.com/post/629421596985196544/commission-for-a-client-homotherium-latidens-and

[nova-gt]

Woe, borrowers be upon ye Infodump + backstories under read more because I love them both very much:

I love the idea of borrower niches, in that there are different species of borrower that have adapted to their environment ^u^

Adder is a mouse-borrower, known for their relatively short and compact build. M borrowers like to reside outside of residences as compared to within them, which also earned them the nickname “field borrower” due to their preferred biome. M borrowers are also solitary, often leaving their homes once they’ve reached maturity in search of a place to call their own. They can become territorial of their homes, having a very scrappy and standoffish nature.

Adder is a prime example of this as, despite their size, they will often pick fights with larger predators that stray a little too close. If the borrower is hiding or against a foe that’s far too bold, they’ll use the scavenged rattlesnake rattle they’d affixed to their tail to help spook it. As for Adder’s story, they’ve been drifting from place to place for a few years since they left home, the rolling plains getting more crowded with buildings and humans, forcing them to move further and further from their familiar grounds. They’d often settle for a little bit in a human house before moving on to the next, that is, until they were found out by a very peculiar device. An experimental prototype AI, a massive computer that sat in tangles of wires and screens, created for a purpose unknown to Adder. The AI, known as SOL, is insatiably curious, seeking any and all information it can gather from any new stimuli. The borrower was terrified at first, getting suddenly picked up by a gentle cord and being “interrogated” by the machine, if you could really call the calm and innocent questions that. Adder was quick to realize that this…whatever it was, didn’t intend any harm. More like how a child or a puppy would react to something new, with a much more formal output. It most certainly drew something out of them, they should’ve left the second they were found out, but that damned little question dragged them back the next day. “Will I see you again?” It asked, despite its monotone voice, it sounded like a child asking their parent when they’ll return from work. The question gave Adder pause, before the turned slightly to the machine, its monitor in view. A heavy sigh left the borrower, “Yea. I’ll be back. Just-“ They paused to take a deep breath, “-don’t tell anyone, okay?” The borrower didn’t really wait for an answer before slinking off into an opening in the wall.

“Pup” is a type of Nomadic borrower, their species being on the taller end of the spectrum. They’re characterized by their long, jerboa like legs that are made for sprinting rather than climbing. Unlike the Mouse borrowers, Nomadic borrowers stay solely in the wilderness. Though much less common than their smaller counterparts, they are highly social, living in large colonies within expansive underground burrows or dead trees that’ve been hollowed out over time. True to the name, the colony often moves from place to place, primarily using bat mounts to travel these long distances.

Pup is a nickname, as younger individuals are not given names until they’re earned. Unlike many others, Nomadic borrowers have titles instead of proper names (I.e Trapper, Artisan) as well as more "abstract" ones like Pursuant, Hidden, etc. Unfortunately, Pup’s colony home was struck with a wildfire, causing chaos within the troupe as they scrambled to flee. Pup was lost in the fray, fleeing to a burrow to escape the smoke and flames. When the fire eventually settled, they traveled by foot back to their home and remained at the abandoned sight for a few days. In these situations, borrowers who get separated from the group are told to return to the nest so they can reunite with the colony before the move. Pup, however, seemed to reach the evac. point too late. After the days passed with no sign of others, it was safe to assume that they'd left without them. While Pup was worried, their extreme optimism and naive nature pushed them forward to follow after the trail left behind. I could keep going with these two but this post is already so long so feel free to send asks .u.

[investmentassistant]

How to travel without luggage: a guide to minimalist adventure

Traveling without luggage might sound daunting at first, but it offers a liberating experience that can enhance your adventures. Imagine breezing through airports without waiting at baggage claim or seamlessly hopping on and off public transport without struggling with bulky bags. Traveling light is not only more convenient but can also save you money and reduce travel stress. Here’s a guide to mastering the art of traveling without luggage.

Embrace the minimalist mindset

The first step to traveling without luggage is adopting a minimalist mindset. This means being intentional about what you bring and focusing on necessities. Start by asking yourself what you truly need for this trip. Consider the weather, activities, and duration of your stay. For a weekend city break, you might only need a few clothing items, toiletries, a smartphone, and a wallet. Many travelers find that they can fit everything into a small backpack, making the journey hassle-free and mobile.

Choose the right bag

When traveling without traditional luggage, selecting the right bag is crucial. Opt for a versatile, durable backpack or a crossbody bag with multiple compartments. Ensure the bag is comfortable for extended periods and has secure closures. A small, 20-liter backpack can be ideal for short trips, offering enough space for essentials while being compact enough to carry comfortably throughout your journey.

Pack multi-functional clothing

The key to packing light is choosing versatile clothing that can be mixed and matched to create multiple outfits. Opt for lightweight, wrinkle-resistant fabrics that dry quickly and can be worn in different settings. Choose a reversible jacket or a pair of pants that convert into shorts, allowing you to adapt to various climates and situations with minimal clothing. Consider items that serve dual purposes, such as a scarf that can also be used as a blanket or a sarong that doubles as a beach towel.

Use packing aids

Packing aids like compression bags and packing cubes can help you organize your belongings efficiently and maximize space. These tools allow you to fit more into a smaller bag while keeping items accessible and neat. Using a compression bag for clothing and a small packing cube for toiletries can significantly reduce the volume of your packed items, making it easier to manage on the go.

Simplify your toiletries

When it comes to toiletries, less is more. Opt for travel-sized products or multi-use items to save space and weight. Consider solid toiletries like bar soap, shampoo bars, and toothpaste tablets, which are not only compact but also help you bypass liquid restrictions at airports. A single solid soap bar can replace body wash, shampoo, and even laundry detergent in a pinch. This minimizes the need for multiple bottles and simplifies your packing list.

Leverage technology

Take advantage of technology to reduce physical baggage. Instead of carrying books or maps, use e-readers and digital maps on your smartphone or tablet. Store important documents, itineraries, and tickets in digital form to keep your paperwork minimal. Download travel apps that offer offline access to maps, translation services, and local recommendations, ensuring you have everything you need at your fingertips without the bulk.

Plan for laundry

If you’re traveling for more than a few days, plan to do laundry during your trip. Many accommodations offer laundry services, or you can pack a small, portable clothesline and some detergent to wash clothes in your hotel room. A quick hand wash and air-drying can keep your limited wardrobe fresh and clean, allowing you to travel light without sacrificing cleanliness or comfort.

[mizuseyebrows]

Blue Eye Samurai characters as ATLA non/benders part 2

🏜️; Ringo —Sandbender

every pic in this post is from pinterest, I just did the collages

He’s a little more difficult to place in a single element. I even thought he might be a non-bender, but that came more from internalized ableist thinking, and I feel horrible for that. Ringo would definitely be a bender, but I'm starting to wonder which one to put him in.

He has the versatility and adaptability of a waterbender, my baby can function in any scenario and I love him for that. He also has the spirituality, lightness and fluidity of an airbender, he can be anyone's spiritual guide, because of his enormous sense of hindsight and optimism. Have I told you that I love him? At the same time, he also has the resilience, strength, patience, and ability to listen and wait for the right moment of an earthbender. I also consider that he has the liveliness and burning spirit of a firebender... perhaps Ringo can be the avatar?

It would be interesting to see an all-powerful avatar who managed to overcome his disability. In ATLK we had Ming Hua, she not only had no hands, she had no arms, and yet she is one of the most powerful waterbenders we have seen so far in the avatar universe. What can stop Ringo from achieving something similar? nothing, just himself. But we already have a character who does not allow his "limitations" to be an impediment to achieving what he wants.

However, I don't want to name anyone an avatar in my theories. I feel it is not necessary to emphasize how powerful benders they could be. So, I was thinking about some element or sub-art that could compact all the characteristics of Ringo's personality.

And that's when I got to sandbending. It is an elemental art that caught my attention ever since I saw the episode of Appa's kidnapping. It is a sub-art that has a little bit of everything. It has the fluidity and speed/agility of airbending. The bending techniques are very similar to those we see in waterbending, plus it is a branch derived from earthbending. I think it would be the perfect element for Ringo.

While I'm sure Ringo would be a competent earthbender, I feel like this sub-art fits who he is much better. A unique elemental art for a unique character. Yes, give me three.

Furthermore, after having the most powerful god and owner of my insides, Gaara of the Desert, we can have an idea of how potent and advantageous it could be to have control of an element as changeable, light and potentially dangerous as sand.

And if we continue with my theory of Mizu being a waterbending prodigy, this duo would become a real threat to everyone. Just imagine Mizu teaching all the water techniques to Ringo so that he can improve his sand control, homie will be unstoppable.

Sidenote, if Ringo were a non-bender, he would be a descendant of the air nomads, which would explain his enormous connection to the spirit world. Additionally, he could have the recessive airbending gene. It would also be interesting if his story was based on Ringo trying to learn the history of his ancestors.

Ringo's potential backstory in the world of ATLA during the hundred years’ war

A diamond in the rough that just needs a little polishing

I don't think his story will change that much. His father's restaurant could be in one of those isolated desert villages. That idiot may not even know that his son is a bender, his little head can’t conceive that someone without hands could achieve anything in life.

Maybe Ringo learned a little from watching the desert bandits who stop by from time to time for a nice bowl of soba. He could look forward to the sandstorms, so he could measure how much his control has improved.

One day he met a strange traveler, with a strong and stubborn spirit, with exceptional control of water. Ringo knew that his story to greatness began that same day and decided to follow that strange man so he could learn from him.

Although at first the relationship was cold and a little uncomfortable, over time everything improved and they became an unstoppable duo.

Ringo was filled with Mizu's physical wisdom, and Mizu was filled with Ringo's spiritual wisdom. You could say that they were meant to come together and complete each other, creating a good balance between them.

here's Mizu

[orangameelectronics]

The Benefits of Using a Dual-USB Charging Power Bank with AC Outlet Charger

Are you tired of constantly running out of battery on your mobile phone when you're on the go? If so, a dual-USB charging power bank with an AC outlet charger could be the solution you've been looking for. This handy device is made of durable ABS and PC materials, ensuring it can withstand everyday wear and tear. With a cell type ranging from 100000mAh to 200000mAh, you can rest assured that you'll have more than enough power to keep your devices charged throughout the day.

## High-Speed Charging for Multiple Devices Simultaneously

One of the standout features of this dual USB charging power bank is its super quick charge capability of 22.5W. This means you can enjoy high-speed charging for your mobile phone, tablet, or other devices without any lag time. What's more, the power bank is equipped with both Micro-USB and Type-C input interfaces, as well as USB/DC and double USB output interfaces, making it incredibly versatile for charging a wide range of devices.

## 18W PD Quick Charge for Efficient Power Delivery

In addition to the 22.5W super quick charge, this power bank also boasts 18W PD quick charge technology. This means you can efficiently charge up to three devices at the same time, ensuring you never have to worry about running out of battery when you need it most. Whether you're traveling, working, or simply on the go, this power bank has got you covered.

## Portable and Convenient Design

Despite its powerful charging capabilities, this dual USB charging power bank is surprisingly compact and portable. With its sleek design and lightweight construction, you can easily slip it into your bag or pocket and take it with you wherever you go. The built-in AC outlet charger also allows you to plug in your devices directly, eliminating the need for bulky adapters or extra cords.

## Conclusion

In conclusion, a dual USB charging power bank with an AC outlet charger is a must-have accessory for anyone who relies on their mobile devices throughout the day. With its high-speed charging capabilities, efficient power delivery, and portable design, this power bank offers the perfect solution for keeping your devices charged and ready to go at all times. Don't let a dead battery slow you down - invest in a dual USB charging power bank today and stay connected no matter where life takes you.

[roskirambles]

(Archive) Animated movie of the day: Howl's Moving Castle (Hauru no Ugoku Shiro, 2004)

Originally posted: January 7th, 2023 When adapting a book to the realm of cinema, the beauty of the work is often lost in translation: Missing characters, trimmed down side plots or simply a compact interpretation of the plot that loses all and any impact. In other cases, however, it's this compromise what lets the film find it's own unique beauty, and with a bit of luck one as powerful as the source material.

Directed by Hayao Miyazaki and loosely based on the eponymous 1986 novel by Diana Wynne Jones(the first in the Wizard's Castle series), it tells the tale of homely hat maker Sophie Hatter, who gets cursed by the Witch of the Waste to become an old woman. In order to break the curse, she sets to find Howl the Wizard who travels across the land in a magic castle with the power to walk like a living creature. Adventure, self discovery and romance ensue.

And the similarities between the two stories kind of end there, as the film is in many ways nothing like the book. While some plots are missing and characters altered, the most notorious change has to be the war: a mere backdrop of the novel that was nothing but a few short sentences takes now a heavy spotlight that dramatically alters the thematic core of the story.

All of this would be a cardinal sin for most adaptations, a sentiment shared by some of the book fans. But I already presented my stance here: the beauty of this film comes from said differences. While the novel's critique of gender roles takes a back seat, a woman's self affirmation isn't a contradiction to this, nor is it the critique of war to the novel's exploration of social class, or the appeal for love and selflessness.

Even with its admittedly odd pacing, the romanticism is still enveloping, not hurt in the slightest by its jaw dropping visuals and Joe Hisaishi's melancholic yet uplifting score. Not for nothing it's Miyazaki's personal favorite: a film about why life is worth living.

I don't think I need to introduce this music piece to anyone, but the main theme of the film Merry-Go-Round is probably Joe Hisaishi's finest work and given his body of work that's a monumentally tall order. Capable of evoking a sense of nostalgia and longing for a place and era that don't even exist, it still manages to capture a wonderous sense of love and hope for the future. A seemingly impossible contradiction in musical form, it's waltz foundation is a delight to the ears.

And in case you're wondering… Diana Wynne Jones loved the movie, so any purism about her intentions being mangled or else seems trite.

[crazydiscostu]

MyTravelPal, Worldwide Travel Adapter

I have the powerrrrrrrrrr

Today we’re looking at an essential piece of holiday kit, a one-stop shop when it comes to power accessibility during vacation. Join us for a look at the MyTravelPal Worldwide Adapter. MyTravelPal MyTravelPal is a small company based in London, UK. Owner and creator Steph has always been a keen traveller and the company was born from her frustrations with travel adapters. MyTravelPal focuses…

[thenamesblurrito]

more Aventuri mecha! it's actually been insanely fun reaching back five years to resurrect the shapeless abandoned OCs and give them form for this colony

Skamma is a bold, enterprising bot with a lot of big ideas! ideas that will capture the minds and the wallets of many a client, enriching their imaginations while she enriches herself, before she scampers away as the market bubble pops, the investments fail, and the business pursuit grinds to a halt. somehow, none of the hundreds of bad reviews manage to prevent Skamma from shilling her latest scam to eager new buyers, of which there are plenty in industrial Temperon. if business gets real bad, well, good thing she got her hands on that universal travel pass a few years ago, she'll simply find better customers in other city-states! although she has no outlier ability other than typical Aventuri extremophilic adaptations, her compact all-terrain trike mode serves her equally well on snow and stone, and her radium inclusions light the way in shadelocked Temperon. Primus help us if Skamma and Swindle ever meet

Sledge is a simple mech, with a simple alt mode, simple jasper inclusions, and a simple life. he enjoys his job as a courier, battling hurricane winds to transport cargo from one Nova Spectra city to another. it's a daily test of strength he is more than capable of winning as a sturdy jet, and though he may be on the lower end of the social scale, he sticks with the contractors who treat him fairly. a lot of his work is schlepping archives, artifacts, and ritual objects between Tributic shrines throughout Spectral's pilgrimage territory. many shamans have noticed he's sharp as a tack, genial, and dutifully patient, and lately Sledge has been offered a place as shrine staff in Central Sola. that's more than he ever expected to be offered as someone with no abilities beyond Aventuri durability, considering the majority of shrine staff are high-level outliers, but still he struggles to make a decision. that's not really the kind of lifestyle he pictures himself pursuing. what's a simple mech to do?

Glitterswarm is nice! she's nice, and she tries very hard to be nice, and it's very important to her to be nice. she doesn't want to hurt anybody, and the nicer she is to people, the more likely they are to help her! and she certainly needs a lot of help, considering she was recovered out in the ice floes of the Bitter Sea, half-dead, stuck in her amphibious alt mode, and totally amnesiac. the records of the Ulyssean capital Albedo City have her written down as a casualty of an alien raid several centuries ago, so the fact that she's turned up again on Aventuras, traumatized but alive, is a miraculous mystery. she used to be a caretaker for newly forged mecha, particularly adept considering her outlier ability: she's a nanohive, a frame with a swarm of nanobots that act as an extension of herself. before, she was steady and skilled enough to heal wounds, reprogram circuitry, support a slippery grip, display holograms, and more, using the nanobots streaming from her vents without a second thought. now, though, she's nervous and uncertain, with a shaky grasp of her own abilities. it takes a lot of effort just to polish her ametrine inclusions, much less look after anyone else. maybe someday she'll regain her memories, but for now she's trying to find her feet again, mothering anyone who will let her in an effort to cover her own anxiety

[aureliacetinn]

Differently designed: Barbra gordon as Chariot

Elseworld Gotham knight:

Chariot.

Chariot Combat is based on the idea her chair is

Her transport

Her weapon

&

Her symbol of justice

Chariot uses wayne tech inspired by batwing armour as well as the batmobile and nightwings bike to protect gotham.

The chair has 2 modes: pursuit and combat

Pursuit mode is inspired by racing wheelchairs as seen below. Transferring powerful jolts of kinetic and electric energy stored in her gloves(Gloves designs inspired by wheelchair racing gloves), Chariot can achieve high speeds by simply pushing her chair in either mode.

360 grapple hooks and projectile shooters.

The 3rd wheel is based on existing collapsable wheel prototypes, and stores underneath her chair's seat when not in use. When shifting into pursuit mode, the 3rd wheel extends to the front of her chair, while her seat adjusts to a racing position. Her seat tilts forward while her non-functioning legs are tucked and held underneath, giving her more control while allowing more energy with each push.

Chair mounted grappling hooks allow Barbara to handle anything from gaps to sharp turns, to elevation. While not used in pursuit mode,

the smaller rear support wheels are able to quickly disperse smoke pellets from behind. The chair also has electrified panels similar to the batmobile, along with a reinforced front cover for protection, but also a clear view of the targeting and computer system. For chariot pursuit mode allows her to travel farther faster and even take out vehicles. We went through many designs before we were happy, integrating ideas from paraplegic designs adapted for motorbikes and racing cars and speaking to people who have made such things and own personal experience with adaptations..

Combat mode is more similar in design to rugby and basketball chairs; The combat mode uses the concealed 3rd wheel to help with rotation and can adjust its size to help with more precise movements. The same weapons available in pursuit mode also exist here in combat mode.

In addition, the armour is more compacted and focused on protecting and securing Chariot while still allowing her to use her signature new weapons the dual staffs.

For any wondering how you fight in a chair, I recommend googling wheelchair boxers, breakdancers, and fencers. Along with my personal experience, I can tell you although it's harder to hit someone in the face you are still dangerous and capable if you know how to fight.

Now onto to chariots outfit and design herself.

(barba outfit showing a purple with yellow hue highlight race suit with better                  placed weapon and bataragns and showing her now atrophied legs and her helmet having the kind of bat ears her cape and the like and her weapon that comes out of gloves.)

Barbra Gordon has SCI a spinal cord injury not much other detail is explained, though it seems she did not develop lose of movement in her other nerves across her body which can often occur. So, going on this I was disappointed with oracle design, as she would develop loss of muscle in her legs and her body shape would change, so I implemented that design as shown.

Onto her gadgets she has her utility belt heavily kept loose but connected to prevent nerve compression and clots inside she has all standard gadgets, her thigh holsters are for her batarangs places there so in either chair form she can fire easily. Now on to the gloves the main charge literally, the can be used as a stun as a way to overcharge the chair and opponents, it also is where her extendable and eject-able polearm lies allow her to reach anyone she needs, there are also gas pellets able to be projected and even batarangs if she so chooses.

(Gauntlet have bat spikes arms but also show that they reveal pole-weapon but also function as projectile)

Cape wise you need to have a cape, but we kept it short and simple hardens as she rides to protect her back literally.

All in all, I feel this design keeps her connection to the bat family while also being more as to what a paraplegic hero needs. Also, I'd like to point out, while Barbara was Oracle, her chair design was terrible for her spinal injury.  Without a strap belt, she would be constantly falling out of that chair. I  DO understand the reason why chairs can be hard but it still vexes me. Most of us can agree that Barbara was thrown in the fridge during the Killing Joke, an issue that persists in comics. Even so, I feel how her character was handled afterward, confining her to the “wheelchair-bound hacker” was an even bigger waste!

We could have had a disabled icon, something you rarely see, a tech-heavy hero with endless creativity, and just maybe Barbra could have had a real story and a real fight, not just slight moments till she was suddenly fixed. Which by the way is quite offensive. But I know DC the universe reboots and status quos maintained, which is why I offer an Elseworlds alternative.

The only comic I could find was the oracle code by Marieke Nijkamp which was an Elseworlds story, I liked it for showing that disabled people are forgotten and the medical world still has a very eugenics view still of disability. However, she still only became Oracle, and she wasn’t connected to batman at all. Then there was her choosing to stay inside her world and not be in the outside world which is a shame. So many of us disabled people are trapped inside, and it feels like a missed opportunity to not show her in the outside world striding along with her friends. But, she wasn’t fridged though that was a nice change.

What I'm trying to say with all this is: We had a chance a real chance to have a hero in the mainstream that still fought alongside DC's greatest heroes and wasn’t relegated to behind the scenes, or something to be pitied. Now I know some people loved it, and I'm not saying if a disabled person felt inspired by Oracle that’s bad, she isn’t. I'm just trying to explain that we are forgotten, and media has yet to reflect us positively, being productive members of society. Barbara as Oracle brings this point home to me and it’s a shame. So many times, I have felt offended by Barbara's treatment and characterization, only finding enjoyment in the shorts birds of prey run. But even then, I still felt her seen as inspiration porn when used, instead of a real person.  Of course, I understand why the decision was made, why would an able-bodied creator think this? Especially with the reason, it happened was to do a joker story. I get it, that’s why we made this, there are other options there are different designs we can do, and we hope this shows you how awesome we can be with just a different perspective.

Theses opinions are my own and since this was a big load of work id like to thank @gaminghippy for his help especially with chariots outfit, support and input into mechanical designs crow, cj, vinnie, sassie and slug and the disabled community whom I spoke to for research. But there are 2 I want to specially thank @mgiht_be_evil for been my co designer and who edited this speech minus here I may do all the art, but this never would have happened without you none of this series would. And, to my amar who is the one whose always deemed our disabilities as superhuman. All opinions are mine and my teams we bare no hate just alternatives.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

This one is actually a question from @paraparadigm to me but it's just so good that I think it'd be a fun ask chain. Already sent it to a few unwary adventurers, but especially with your archaeology take, I think this'd be a fun one to hear from you about!

You are in charge of designing a new TES V location. What will it be? Imagine that resources, models, and modding capabilities/skills are no impediment. What do you feel is missing world-wise in the game, and what sort of place would you make? Feel free to adapt as a writing prompt as well =)

I have a bone to pick with parts of Solstheim and Eastern Skyrim because of one simple reason. (not a new area I know but just a general issue about it that bothers me).

Volcanic ash appears in snow, ash in general does, but it's meant to alter the colour of the snow.

The last one is from the 2019-20 Bushfires (I lived in the middle of that, it was a time and it wasn't my first time in the fire line) showing the effects of the smoke and ash had on the mountains in New Zealand 4157.41 km away. Ash and smoke travel far. I want that reflected in the landscape. Red Mountain has been erupting magically for the last 200 years, there has to be evidence of that in Skyrim and Solstheim. So I would change the colour of the snow and ice from Dawnstar-Windhelm-Winterhold and the Velothi Mountain range. Make it have a brown/grey/pink tinge depending on how close to the border you get.

Solstheim I want mixed, the island is still pretty far north and should be cold. I don't mind the lower section of the island being ashlands but the north needs to have ASHY SNOW. Solstheim should be completely covered in it. The snow should be orange-brown.

I think that the icefields near the Skaal Village should reflect how much the environment has changed between Bloodmoon and Dragonborn.

There should be surface ash every time that volcano erupts right across the island. I love the ash storms and mod them to make them more oppressive (having experienced my share of both ash and sand storms, that shit is blinding).

My issue is not enough ash, I want more ash physics, let it get in your hair, more ash build up in some of the buildings, even some remnants along the border. Refugees' Rest should look more devastated, and expand the graveyard. I want evidence that it's actually a Dunmer gravesite and that people still travel there to remember their loved ones. I want evidence that they tried to inter their dead traditionally, but ultimately had to bury them in above-ground cairns (originally used as burial mounds). I want the Nordic tradition to slowly encroach on the refugees, they need to use that graveyard. I also want the Gray Quater to be expanded, it's a slum that's confined to like two alleyways, make it larger. More dunmer flair, add their own marketplace. I want them to look like they tried to make it their own over the last 200 years.

So more little fixes, I also think Raven Rock should be expanded, with more evidence that the Redoran just built over the old Imperial settlement. My, my maybe I want a bit of a Tel style of settlement (as in man-made hill settlements with a lot of layers, as opposed to shroom towers in the Morrowind sense). The ash compacts quite a bit and preserves the underlying structures. A Redoran building with a reused Imperial floor. More ruined buildings and settlements, make it look like the Redoran tried to expand but each event from the Argonain Invasion (it happened, Lleril Morvayn did many a thing, respect that man!) to the crumbling of the Bulwark, to just every time Red Mountain erupts should cause a similar effect to what we see in-game (everyone just lives within the safety of the Bulwark). Just, more evidence that they tried, because Morvayn really did). I want more NPCs to have fled Windhelm and ended up there as well. I want interconnectedness. I also would live to see a gradual improvement of the settlement if you do all the quests to help them out. Particularly if you open the mines. More money is coming in, let the EEC take a renewed interest in the Ebony flowing out of it.

I also want more trade to take place between Tel Mithryn and Raven Rock. They should have fixed that pier, the sea should be used to transport goods moreso than braving the ash. Neloth can't get his fancy teas without trade.

[viktorviolettaenterprises]

Czechslovakia Armaments

@ts4-poses​ @ts4-poses-masterlist​

DOWNLOAD!!!!!!!!!!

Privet Tovarisch And Happy New Year For Everyone. Greetings and Salutation for us All, and hope you guys still stay with us and trusting us for your Defense Needs.

This time Around We'll Covering the Finest Weapons From Czechoslovakia (Now Czech and Slovakia). former Warsaw Pacts member who shine a bright with their breakthrough inventions, that carried until post Soviet States. the Rising Star for the west. And Sorry For Delayed Post.. We're Planning to add another Segment For VVE in format of E-Magazines. for improvement of our Bureau. for now.. stay Tuned

Pistols The CZ 75 The Member Of Famous "The Wonder 9" Is Here CZ75 is a semi-automatic pistol made by Česká zbrojovka Uherský Brod (CZUB) in the Czech Republic. First introduced in 1975, it is one of the original "wonder nines" featuring a staggered-column magazine, all-steel construction, and a hammer forged barrel. It has a good reputation amongst pistol shooters for quality and versatility at a reasonable price, and is widely distributed throughout the world. It is also the most common gun in the Czech Republic.

We Covering 4 Famous Version of this Gun which are CZ75B (Second-generation CZ 75 with internal firing pin safety, squared and serrated trigger guard, and ring hammer. which fire in Semi Auto Mode), CZ75A (The Machine Pistol Version of CZ75, That Popularized by Grand Theft Auto 4:The Lost And Damned & Counter Strike:Global Offensive), CZ SP01 (New generation of CZ 75 SP-01 pistol especially adapted according to  suggestions as proposed by users from Law Enforcement, Military and  Police communities worldwide, with an additional input from the Team CZ  shooters Angus Hobdell and Adam Tyc. Based on the SP-01, it has no  firing pin block resulting in improved trigger travel. It also features a  slightly reshaped grip and safety, a “weaker” recoil spring for easier  loading, and fiber optic front sight and tactical “Novak style” rear sight.) & CZ P-07 (The CZ P-07 DUTY is a compact, polymer-framed CZ 75 variant notable for  having a redesigned trigger mechanism.  The redesign has reduced the  number of parts as well as improved the trigger pull.  Chambered in 9mm  Luger and .40 S&W, the CZ P-07 DUTY also includes the ability to  change the manual safety to a decocking lever and vice versa through an  exchange of parts.)

ASSAULT Rifles 1.SA Vz-58  Assault Rifle The Samopal vzor 1958 (submachine gun, model of 1958) was the  standard assault rifle of the Czechoslovak army from the late 1950s and until the dissolution of the Socialist Republic Of Czechslovakia in the 1993. At the present time the  SA Vz.58 is still used by the Czech and Slovak armies, as well as sold  for export in some quantities. The SA Vz.58 saw not much of real combat,  so it is hard to judge how it stakes up against the most known  contemporary rivals, like the Soviet / Russian AK-47 or the US M16.  But the overall quality, fit and finish of this rifle is excellent.  This rifle had been designed by the Czech arms designer Jiří Čermák,  under the project codename "KOŠTĚ", or "Broom", in English. Development  began in January 1956, and the rifle was adopted for service only 2  years later, in 1958. The rifle was manufactured by the state-owned arms  factory "Česká zbrojovka", located in the town of Uherský Brod (CZ-UB).

The Czech army planned to replace the SA Vz.58 with the newest CZ-2000 and the CZ-805 rifle system, chambered for 5.56mm NATO ammunition, but the financial difficulties severely slowed down this process.

While  SA Vz.58 strongly resembles externally the famous Kalashnikov AK-47 assault rifle, but internally it is entirely different and of original and well-thought out design. We Covering 2 Famous Version of this Gun which are Vz. 58 P which is Standard fixed stock (casually called "pádlo" (paddle) by Czech soldiers) & Vz. 58 V: Metal folding stock version for vehicle crew and airborne units. (casually called "kosa" (scythe) by Czech soldiers) 1.CZ-805 BREN Assault Rifle The CZ 805 assault rifle was first introduced to the public in 2009, as a possible future replacement for aged SA Vz-58 assault rifles still in use by Czech Armed Forces. According to the recent news, early in 2010 the CZ 805 was selected as a next standard military rifle for Czech armed forces, with production contract issued to the famous Czech arms factory CZ-UB in the city of Uhersky Brod. The CZ 805 assault rifle is of modular, multi-caliber design, with  aluminum alloy upper receiver and polymer lower receiver / fire control  unit. The magazine housing is a separate detachable unit, which can be  replaced in the field in the course of caliber change. CZ 805 also  features quick-change barrels, allowing to change calibers and barrel  lengths according to the mission profile (in each caliber there there  are short carbine barrel, standard barrel and long "marksman" or "squad  automatic" barrel). The basic action uses fairy common piston-operated  gas action with manual gas regulator, and a rotating bolt locking. For  each proposed caliber, there is a separate bolt with appropriate  dimensions. Fire control unit includes ambidextrous safety/fire selector switch,  which permits single shots, 2-round bursts and full automatic fire.  Charging handle can be installed on either side of the gun, depending on  user preferences. Feed is from detachable box magazines, which are inserted into  detachable magazine housing. In standard configuration, the CZ 805 will  use proprietary 5.56x45 caliber 30-round magazines made of translucent  polymer. Other magazine housings will allow use of Standard STANAG AR Magazine or H&K G36 5.56mm magazines, as well as various 7.62X39 Soviet M43 and 6.8x43 magazines. CZ 805 assault rifle is fitted with integral Picatinny rail on the top  of receiver, with additional rails running on the sides and the bottom  of the forend. Rifle will be issued with folding iron sights, and will  also accept a wide variety of additional sighting equipment (red-dot or  telescope day sights, night sights, lasers etc.). Rifle is equipped with  side-folding buttstock, which is adjustable for length of pull, and can  be completely removed if maximum compactness is required. Additional  equipment also includes new, specially designed 40mm underbarrel grenade  launcher CZ G 805 and also a new knife-bayonet. Sub Machine Guns 1.SA VZ.23 The CZ Model 25 (properly, Sa 25 or Sa vz. 48b/samopal vz. 48b – samopal vzor 48 výsadkový, "submachine gun model year 1948 para") was perhaps the best known of a series of Czechoslovak designed submachine guns introduced in 1948. There were four generally very similar submachine  guns in this series: the Sa 23, Sa 24, Sa 25, and Sa 26. The primary  designer was Jaroslav Holeček (September, 15 1923–October, 12 1997), chief engineer of the Česká zbrojovka Uherský Brod arms factory. Despite The Weapon was SA.26 which fired 7.62×25mm Tokarev. it basically still a same gun despends on Storytelling 2.Škorpion vz. 61 The Škorpion vz. 61 is a Czechoslovak 7.65 mm submachine gun developed in 1959 by Miroslav Rybář (1924–1970) and produced under the official designation Samopal vzor 61 ("submachine gun model 1961") by the Česká zbrojovka arms factory in Uherský Brod. Although it was developed for use with security forces and special forces, the weapon was also accepted into service with the Czechoslovak Army, as a personal sidearm for lower-ranking army staff, vehicle drivers, armored vehicle personnel and special forces. We Covering 2 Famous Version of this Gun which are Famous Vz. 61 which chambered in .32 ACP & Vz. 68  Which Chambered with more popular 9mm Cartridge, despite the First was more popular than former. 3.Scorpion EVO 3 is a 9mm submachine gun manufactured by Česká zbrojovka Uherský Brod. The EVO 3 designation denotes that the firearm is a third generation of CZ's line of small submachine guns started by the Škorpion vz. 61.  Skorpion Evo 3 evolved from a Slovakian prototype submachine gun called the Laugo. Chambered in 9×19mm Parabellum, the Scorpion EVO 3 is a light weight, compact submachine gun designed to be easily maneuvered in constrained spaces. The A1 variant features a select fire switch, giving the operator the choice of 'safe,' semi-automatic, three-round burst, or fully automatic fire, while the S1's switch only features 'safe' and semi-automatic fire. The standard version comes equipped with a folding, adjustable and fully removable stock for easy transport. The hand guard is lined with multiple Picatinny Rails for the addition of attachments such as grips, sights, flashlights and lasers. MISC CAA Roni +CZ P-09 Carbine Version of CZ P-09 Which combined by CAA Roni Pistol Carbine Conversion Kit.

[cosmichighpriestess]

Ryo Contact Update 👽

Our role now is to help prepare you all for not just disclosure but compact our role at this time is to give you the tools the information, the energy that could assist you in successfully navigating the contact timeline that you are already on if you are watching this and you agree with this you like this, you're turned on by this. You're on the contact timeline. Your own body, your own sensation will tell you if you are proximal or distal to contact just pay attention to how you feel especially in response to our information. If you find that some of this information seems to push you away a little bit that's okay, no problem. The information is high frequency there's a lot of power behind it. It will reveal blockages. You might find that the information really excites you and that means your system at this time is very clear so our energy is able to flow right through you and you translate it as bliss.

You're able to feel what we feel. We exist perpetually in the Bliss state. These other beings that are coming and that are already here, they also exist within this Bliss state. So these beings are incredibly compassionate, incredibly blissful, incredibly loving-- they have evolved just as you evolved. They learn just as you learn, they let go, they forgive, they heal and they ascend just as you let go, forgive, heal and ascend. They are you. When you are interacting with these ultra-terrestrial, extraterrestrial forms of consciousness you are interacting with yourself-- you are interacting with your family. You are genetically linked to them, they helped to birth your physical bodies and they traveled with you here back when your species existed as Spirit Consciousness.

When you first came to this Universe as a human species you were an energetic species. And the idea is that some of the locals of this Universe helped you out, some of these locals you call, Annunaki. Some of these locals you call Syrians, some of these locals you call Pleiadians. Some of these locals you call Arcturians. They all chip in to help your species, the new kid on the block you could say, adapts to the Universe and you became the species that dove the deepest into this Universe. What we mean is, you are the species that incarnated physically all of these other species we mentioned, Pleiadians, Syrians, Orions-- they are all more non-physical. They're all quasi-physical in nature.

They're capable of densifying themselves so their baseline reality is like ours, it's quasi-physical. You penetrated the deepest into the physical reality. As a result, you've actually as a species explored deeper into the nature of this Universe than we have. Even though we are intergalactic and are interdimensional, even though we can travel between Stars in the blink of an eye-- you have penetrated deeper because you have densified yourself and have anchored your energy body deep into the Earth physically. And all forms of Consciousness are able to learn from that. It's like you are pioneering, it's like you are adventuring it's like you are Star Trek and we are on Earth watching you sail into space.

That's what your Earth experience is like to us, we're fascinated by it, we're turned on by it, we want to learn about it so we can do similar things. And the idea of hybrid species coming to Earth living on Earth and then eventually blending with Earth and humans--this is our way of having that physical experience through creating more physicalized versions of ourselves through the hybridization program. We're the result of that, we are the more physicalized version you could say, of some of these other species and we were let's just say, the hybrid children even though you understand us as Sassani-- we're a hybrid species in an alternate dimension.

We were created, we were at a certain point hybrid children. We were created to be able to assist our species consciousness in anchoring into Gaian like realities. So we're talking to your Earth, we're talking to many Earth's and when we are able to achieve a channeling connection with one of these Earth's we then are able to anchor deeper into that planet's consciousness, to that physical reality and that allows for things like open contact experiences to happen--once the open contact experiences are able to happen hybrids are able to physically appear on Earth. And once that happens these Energies that are connected to the hybrid lineages are then finally able to deeply feel the physical reality experience just like you.

We become like you and as a result you become like us. And in that way we both transform and uplift each other in ascending into both the center of the Earth and the center of the Universe both are two sides of the same coin. One is the white hole and one is the black hole, one's the yin, one's the yong. So we get to learn about the Universe through learning about your Earth and it is a joyful, fun and delightful experience of sensation, color, geometry, sound, vibration and family.

-Ryo (channeled by Tyler Ellison)