#fiber cable dies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carmyberzattosjournal · 23 days ago

Text

Entry 32: Wretched Chimera (Crossed Wires pt. II)

Screenshot credit: @boardchairman-blog

Continuation of Crossed Wires

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) introduces him to impact play (flogger), and it wrecks his wiring. Smut.

Warnings: Swearing, impact play (flogger), safeword use, mentions of The Devil (Chef David), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, handjob (barely), aftercare. (981 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi Original fiction sideblog: @midnight-fables

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for weeks.

02 Nov 2024

“What was that, pretty boy?” she cooed.

Her hands on my throat again, pressing up against the bottom of my jaw, trying to get me to look up at her. My bones were lead, muscles were steel cable, locked in place from this new sensation that was the cursed child, the twisted, wretched chimera of pain and pleasure. I couldn’t even piece together what the tension on my throat was because every fiber of my being got spiraled around a single concept: more.

She squeezed again, and my eyes rolled back, and I whined a high-pitched sound that embarrasses me to think about now. My head spun so violently that the only way I knew I was still upright was because my knees were aching.

“I asked you a question, Carmy.”

“More,” I choked out. Please, please, I am begging you, I am on my knees, please, hit me again. Please. Don’t stop. I am victim to this white-hot pleasure coiling ever tighter in my navel, you have to understand, I want more, I need more, I need to cum, this feels so good it might be fucking killing me.

The thing about tangling pain and pleasure together is that it fucking short circuits everything. Here, I have been taught through a lifetime of injury—fights on the playground, roughhousing with my brother, limbs getting twisted during wrestling, slices to my fingertips from knives, burns from hot pots, pans, baking dishes, sputters of oil, sauces, glazes, the screaming, unforgiving pain low in my spine. The blast of hellfire from industrial ovens, garlic, onions, peppers under my fingernails and in my eyes—I have been taught through a thousand little insults that pain was to be avoided.

She tightened her hand in my hair, used her grip to press the side of my face into the mattress, and struck me with the flogger again.

And pleasure? Pleasure, through that exact tumultuous lifetime, through that fucking cesspool of bullshit that I survived, remained forever out of reach, but it was this nebulous something that I was supposed to be chasing, right? That’s what the United Fucking States of Fuckery bashes into our heads at school, right? That we should do what makes us happy, whatever the fuck happiness is supposed to be—figure it out, it ain’t hard, its fucking happiness, you’re hardwired to seek it, dipshit. If someone as fucked in the head as me and figure out Darling feels like heaven and I want more of her, more of everything to do with her, then surely, anyone can figure it out. Pleasure is sought. Pain is avoided and pleasure is sought.

“Fuck!” my voice died halfway through the word.

I barely got another breath in before another sting erupted across my back. I didn’t even hear this one; my pulse was thundering in my ears too hard. I could feel how wet my sweatpants were, and if I wasn’t so wound up that I couldn’t fucking think, I might’ve shoved them down and stroked myself off to get release from the tension. Another strike. Far from sinew threatening to snap under a dull blade, an orgasm lay tensioned just out of reach, a longbow drawn past its failure point yet somehow still whole, threatening to explode into shards. My breaths came in ragged, lips stung when I grimaced at the next strike—this one exceptionally more painful, a raw sort of pain, like a smack over a sidewalk scrape—likely splitting from how chapped they were. How long had I been here? When did I close my eyes? How long had I been crying for?

So, you know what happens when you tangle the two of them up?

It fucking breaks you.

“M-mercy,” I mumbled, barely managing the word. The tension in my hair changed as Darling shifted her position. The flogger didn’t come down on my back, but that’s all that happened. “Mercy, mercy, mercy, mercy, please. Please, I need to cum… please, Darling…” Why did that sound like a sob?

Something thumped on the rug behind me. The hand that had my hair in a vice turned gentle, soothing, comforting.

“Shhhh, you’re okay—”

“’m not, Darlin’, please, mercy—”

“Okay. Okay, baby boy, come here.”

She tugged at my wrist, and I blindly followed the tension, crawling up and collapsing onto the bed. No sooner was I no longer holding myself up was her hand under my waistband and wrapped around my dick. She pumped me twice, and I came undone. I swear to whatever the fuck there is to swear to, I screamed into the bed. That white-hot pleasure in my navel? It surged through every inch of me, blazing a path of flames up my stomach, my chest, my throat, and into my face. A hot knife could’ve been carving Darling’s name in my back where the flogger did its work, and the scariest part of the whole ordeal is that I would lie there and let it. Carve your name into me. Why don’t you slice me open and tear back the sinew? Look at what’s left of me, Darling. You’re a surgeon; you can find The Devil’s claws in there, can’t you? You can get them out. You can keep my flames from choking everyone I love.

Cold on my back. Warm everywhere else. Comfortable. Cozy. No tension in my shoulders, no aching in my knees. No buzzing in my hands. Conversations from The Bear evaporated into the ether. Faint memory of pain between my shoulder blades, now succumbing to numbness from the ice pack. Fingers feathering through my hair.

“Hi, pretty boy.”

I blinked my eyes open and found Darling in my view, lying next to me, nose an inch from mine.

“Hi,” she whispered. “You okay? Lost you there for a few minutes.”

I nodded.

Yeah.

I’m more than okay, baby girl.

End Note: I'm still on my health break; turns out I'm just amiable to peer pressure. This one's for you @carmenberzattosgf and anon on Olive's blog

#cb journal #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut

44 notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 months ago

Text

UPDATE 01.10.24

I will be getting back to writing/drawing soon. I want to and I miss it so much, but I'm sincerely drained with this hurricane shit. And people acting like idiots because of the misinformation of "an even worse storm coming this way" is not helping matters. Groceries are running out in local stores, and with gas stations already being empty we can't spare the gas to go to the next town over to get groceries. I'm rationing food at this point and have no idea how or when I'm going to get more if things don't calm down soon. The whole situation is awful.

My son will also be home from school until at least Thursday, as we got word today that school will be closed Tuesday and Wednesday due to the continued issue of widespread power outages in the area. I also don't think the school even has internet service back yet. Going on four days now with no estimated time for restoration of service. Apparently a major regional hub was damaged in addition to fiber optic cables, and pretty much everyone from here to North Carolina will be without internet for the forseeable future.

Most areas nearby will see power restored by this Friday. I still cannot believe we didn't lose power here. More than fifty percent of customers in our region with our electric company lost power.

My heart goes out to everyone affected by this storm. It was already massive after gaining strength in the gulf, and evidently it was fueled even further by various factors once it hit land. The satellite images alone are terrifying to look at, even in retrospect. This was before the eye even touched land, and the bands stretched all the way up into the Carolinas and higher.

Entire towns and communities were wiped off the map in North Carolina from flooding alone. Entire highways collapsed due to soil washing out from underneath them. The death toll is over one hundred, with even more people left unaccounted for throughout the Appalachia region. Also noteworthy is the fact that two mines that produce essentially the entire world supply of quartz used in processor chips for phones and computers were wiped out, which could create further economic crisis on a global scale.

Where I am in upstate SC got around 10" of rain over a three day period (most of it Thursday night/Friday), which was devastating enough to cause widespread flash flooding, not to mention sustained winds of 50mph for several hours that night that knocked down and uprooted trees in a heavily forested area. I know of two people in my county alone who died as a direct result of trees falling on their houses.

And parts of North Carolina got 45" in a three day period. Almost four feet of rain in three days. That's catastrophic ANYWHERE, and even moreso in a geographical region that's completely unprepared for it.

This was expected to be a bad hurricane season, but no one expected this. There's a strong chance that Helene, like several other catastrophic hurricanes through history (Katrina, Hugo, Harvey, etc.), will be retired as a hurricane name, which occurs when a storm is "so deadly or costly that the future use of its name on a different storm would be inappropriate for obvious reasons of sensitivity."

It's been four days since the storm hit, and the worst still isn't over for a lot of people. It was a terrible case of everything that could possibly go wrong, going wrong all at once.

Things aren't nearly as bad in my area as they could have been, and I'm grateful for that. But there are still a lot of issues and obstacles to get through right now, and I thank every last one of you for being patient and understanding. I say it a lot, but I want you to know I mean it, completely and absolutely and unequivocally, when I say I love you guys ❤️❤️

I'm still here for asks and shit, and I'll be back writing and drawing and simping and endorsing brainrot soon.

#update #also again #i love you all

9 notes · View notes

transmascsteveharrington · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie knows from a very young age that fate is cruel. He learns it from his parents first; learns that his mother was destined to shed tears and his father meant to roar in anger like the engines of the cars he steals. Tied together by cheap wedding rings, words on their wrists. They were stuck together unlike the love they used to hold for each other, that once upon a time had the power to turn black ink on their skin into glowing gold, but had left them as time passed by.

Eddie knows how to hotwire a car before he knows how to read. He knows it’s cut the yellow cable and stick the red and blue ones together before he knows that O follows N. He knows the sound of sirens at his heels before he knows the melody to sing his ABCs to.

He does get to Z eventually, despite his extracurriculars. Recognises letters and merges them together into words. Reads a sentence. Reads another. Devours page after page, flicks through books with the same unstoppable force that his father gets caught up in poor choices with. Eddie ends up in fantastical stories, his father ends up in jail.

There aren’t many books in the Munson household. So his mother tends to drop Eddie off at the library when he asks for a new one. Leaves him there until it’s closing time. Eddie doesn’t mind, doesn’t even notice, too enraptured by foreign worlds hidden behind rows of ink and knowledge pressed into paper.

He likes fantasy best, develops a real soft spot for Tolkien even though some of the words he has to look up in a dictionary and reading them takes forever. But he isn’t picky. Reads anything Mrs. Hildich, the tired, old librarian, recommends. She has a soft spot for him, offers him some butterscotch and doesn’t scold him when he drinks a can of soda in the library. She knows how well he treats the books.

After fantasy, Eddie’s second favorite books are the ones about soulmates. Or at least, it would seem that way to Mrs. Hildich at the speed Eddie devours them with. But it’s not joy or curiosity that drives Eddie, it’s worry and preparation. If having a soulmate means having the same kind of relationship his parents have, he has to be prepared. Has to know his options. Maybe there is a way to undo it all.

Eddie is too young to really understand what irony means, but there definitely is a certain hint of it when his words appear the moment he has closed the last book about soulmates that he could find in the library. As if the universe watched him read, train up, and decided now that Eddie has all the knowledge, knows that there is no way out of this, that it is time. It’s late at night, Eddie stayed up reading far too long. He closes the book when the faint light of his bedside table lamp illuminates his wrist. The book tumbles out of Eddie’s hands and lands on the floor with a loud thud.

With trembling hands he traces the letters on his wrist reading the two words etched into his skin and he feels nausea stir in his stomach. There is meant to be no sensation, no pain when the words appear. Still it feels like there is a knife carving them into the fiber of Eddie’s being.

Dustin died.

Eddie blinks. Then, in a frenzy, rubs his thumb over the words, once, twice, thrice, as if to hope that they smudge. Disappear. Change. But they don’t. Eddie stares at death and death stares right back at him.

Eddie never wanted a soulmate, but this… this truly manifests his disdain for it all. On his wrist sit the words that his soulmate is going to say the moment they realize they are in love with Eddie. What kind of monster falls in love over another person’s death? Eddie might have a thing for the dark and macabre, but that is objectively fucked up. He doesn’t even know a Dustin and yet in the back of his mind, Eddie already has to grieve him. Or maybe, be relieved that he died? Eddie isn’t quite sure what’s worse. What he is sure about, is that he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate. Ever.

He’s always been a momma’s boy. Eddie had thought it meant that he was kind, tried his best, was the kind of person that reminded people of summer days and running through golden fields of wheat laughing. But apparently it means that Eddie is destined to end up with the same kind of shitty person his dad is. Whoever his soulmate is going to be, Eddie already has a deep hatred for them.

****

At the same time, on the other side of town, unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve’s hands are trembling just as much as he traces the dark ink covering his wrist alongside a multitude of freckles and moles. His stomach lurches similarly, but where dread had pooled into the pit of Eddie’s stomach, Steve’s fills with giddiness. It’s the same kind of nervous, excited flutter he gets on Christmas mornings or rollercoaster rides. The same kind of adrenaline-fueled tingle surging through him when his favorite nanny, Greta, chases him around the pool before she grabs and tickles him, both their delighted laughters echoing through the deafening quiet of the back yard.

The giggle Steve lets out now is muffled by the blanket he is hiding under. He isn’t meant to still be up. But a nightmare had woken him, convinced him that there was a monster under his bed, just waiting to eat him.

Steve struggles with letters and words, stutters more than anyone else when he is asked to read out loud, feels like the syllables are turning into glass shards in his mouth. But the words on his wrist are simple, only two of them. One is his own name, one of the few things he can read and spell without any problem. The other word is a simple hey.

Hey, Steve.

Warmth floods through him and with a smile on his lips he whispers back into the quiet of the night, “Hey, soulmate.” He is no longer alone, even without them in his room, he can feel their presence. Knows they’ll keep him safe. Knows the monster under his bed no longer poses a threat. And despite the excitement, Steve drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

He runs down for breakfast the next day, excitedly calling out for his parents. Screams his mother’s name and waves his wrist up and down. His mother hisses for him to be quiet and to sit, nursing a cup of coffee while his father remains unapproachable behind a wall of newspaper pages.

Steve knows better, he really usually knows better, but something buzzing inside of him makes him blow caution into the wind. Because this is important, right? This is huge, surely he can be forgiven for acting up.

So he continues on, babbling ecstatically about getting his mark, about his soulmate, about how he is going to find and marry them. It’s enough for the top of the newspaper to be folded down.

There is a scoff on his father’s face and for the first time that morning Steve grows quiet.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says with a low voice. It’s a warning and the last time Steve’s father grants him an act of mercy. He then goes on to tell Steve that he isn’t going to marry his soulmate. That marriage is business and politics. Big words Steve doesn’t understand yet, but he does quickly understand having a soulmate has very little to do with it. His parents don’t carry each other’s words on their wrists, only expensive watches and pearl bracelets. They don’t even bother covering their words up, like most people. Proudly display the black ink as if people should admire them for choosing a union based not on love but rationality. Or greed.

Still, they hand Steve a luxurious brown leather bracelet to cover up his mark. It’s unwise to display your words, frowned upon if you’re not mated or married. It’s best kept secret.

And Steve loves secrets. Loves the whispered promise of just between you and me. Loves the thrill that comes with having something just for himself, maybe shared with one other he trusts blindly. That bond that comes with faces leaning closer and hushed words being revealed.

Most of the time that person he shares secrets the same way she shares chocolate with him is Greta. Steve will crook his small fingers at her, asking her to come closer. Delight will flicker over her face before she turns serious, giving Steve her entire undivided attention.

Steve has many secrets, some smaller, some bigger. But his biggest probably is hope. Hope that despite what his parents say he will be with his soulmate.

“I’m gonna find my soulmate and marry them,” he whispers into Great’s ear, a giddy grin on his lips.

“I know you will,” she says and reassuringly squeezes his hand. She hopes for him. Steve deserves the world in her opinion, but she knows what kind of people the Harrington’s are. Knows the kind of golden cage that’s going to keep Steve in the smalltown of Hawkins, Indiana. Knows that unless fate has been kind, Steve doesn’t stand a chance.

Steve knows too, is not half as naive and oblivious as all the adults in his life think. He knows his parents like to act like the blacksmiths of his destiny, taking a blazing hammer to his bones until Steve bends and shapes the way they want. But they are only human and the universe is the universe.

Someone out there loves him. Someone out there wants him. Someone out there is waiting for him. Steve is determined. Just because his parents chose money and power over love, doesn’t mean Steve will do the same. He is going to find his soulmate and marry them. He is sure of it. He is careful not to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he wears hope instead. Fate knows what it’s doing.

His faith in fate fades the fifth time someone calls out hey, Steve to him and the words on his wrist still do not turn golden.

continue reading on ao3

#steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things fic

41 notes · View notes

hashal-nutcracker · 8 months ago

Text

The model of the Hussar "Gashal" was created in the middle of the war, by one of the engineers Jacob Farakaso, his work attracted the attention of the military due to the fact that the designer, even despite his injuries sustained in the war, had a very sad effect. The lower limbs lost their mobility, but by exerting strength, he managed to assemble a semblance of an endo-skeleton that allowed him to move as before, connected to the cervical region and stretched inside with fibers of synthetic flesh with nerve endings allowed him to return to service, but since he was commissioned. He spent some time with his family, learning about the applications of nutcrackers in the news and other sources, and seeing that they have their own weaknesses as flaws, the dying creature caused pity, because he also lost many comrades.

he began developing his own model that would allow the nutcrackers to be more protected and maneuverable, but for a long time he did not come up with engineering solutions, which depressed him. Except that the daughter had just brought a hussar figurine, its mechanics, although simple, but reliable, movable joints, a head that could be retracted into the shoulders, as if a soldier was hiding his head from the shots that came from an easel machine-gun pillbox.

sleepless nights spent at the table brought out a very effective model, his ideas on reinforced mechanical parts, as well as an ultra-sensitive hydraulic system capable of reacting much faster, like a powerful computer, it could protect its owner from a blow, from a shot from a heavy gun, give speed that was not a strong feature, jump over trenches, not fall into mud traps where so many wounded died, because such a simple trace from a shot by a large artillery shell collected water and blood inside itself, becoming quicksand

Sample number one: Hashal – passed the tests of basic motor skills based on computer modeling of the military and staff situation, tests without substance.

entry number 0-19/F-1:

the test revealed small failures in the body and joints of the cervical spine, yet it is very difficult to create a body for creatures when you do not have a sample, it cost a lot to establish system consumption, but a very impressive result. The chest opening was adjusted to the maximum, the spike was not so important, the magnetic belts turned out to be strong, but the check related to water turned out to be very unsuccessful, as well as for chemical reagents, some types of gas melt wires and their insulation, I do not have enough material to protect the cables.

Maybe I should turn to an old friend, he was sorting out the nutcrackers, maybe I can find the answer in them

Revision: this nutcracker took me a lot of time, I had to use ship cables with their insulation, but I had to look for details from undermined and faulty installations, tanks, and similar equipment, this made it easier for me to fuse some fragments, as well as microcircuits.

The control has improved, the balancing is almost calibrated, I made the inner ribs from titanium and aluminum, I had to melt a whole sheet of plate armor of the tank, oh gods, they will obviously kill me soon

Entry 0-20/F-2:

My fears were true, my adventures were noticed by those whom I clearly would not like to see in my house, they were looking for my prototype, the workshop was destroyed, I can't say how long I still have to live, they can kill my daughter, except for her I have no one left after that the case.. The projectile flew into our complex, damn freaks! So many civilians died then, and Jesse.. she was torn apart, the Collie was not sleeping then and did not let go of my hand: daddy, please.. Don't leave, there's a war! They're killing there! I'll work as long as I can, but how long will I last?

I don't remember how much time has passed since I finished it, it remains only to carry out the final touches, but how to carry them out without filling? Where will I get such a creature, even though such creatures could try to escape the same way, or have offspring, but here? How can this happen at all, especially here..

The Collie began to behave more closed, as if hiding, even though I said that secrets should only be told to those whom I am ready to entrust them, she is probably afraid to tell me about it, the main thing is that it does not attract too much attention to us.

entry number 1 from a personal notebook:

Well, still, these weasels watching my family noticed my daughter's behavior, they came with weapons to the complex! This is not acceptable! The rules do not give them the right to come here with weapons, with soldiers.. but among them I saw white coats, damn scientists, always climbing where they shouldn't and playing gods

Insomnia is killing me two or three months after people came to the complex, but I finally managed to get an answer from my daughter, damn it! She found the offspring of these creatures, even two, where should I put the other one? Of course, I can restore and upgrade the previously destroyed nutcracker, but how much will it be useful?

To the touch, these lumps of flesh are pleasant to the eyes, they are quite small, and so inquisitive, one of them with grayish-blue eyes constantly asks me, if I take it, he does not come off me all day. I feel like a mother to these creatures, if they can reproduce, then I can assume that two nutcrackers could have hidden them initially in our complex, but they could have got in other ways, they are difficult to see if they climb through the ventilation ducts. Collie became their babysitter, but they trust her more.

#The engineer's diary #lethal company art #sketch #lethal company nutcracker #my ocs #The writing of the lore is delayed #but there is a beginning

8 notes · View notes

kevinwillpkgd · 20 days ago

Text

electronic Services! (get off my lawn complaints)

Bell fried my home theater system. I've had five so far; current one is a (recovered) 4K rec. yelling at the tech, sys engineers and whatnot they were killing me over the years did not help

Mentioning the family across the street had 7 cars in driveway and a LOT of cable troubles did.

Mentioning the cable-guy the started jogging BY my place after fiber install did nothing. His super was more interested in my wiring. The tech wanted to see my B.Y. plants.

*** NOW:

search dies when NHL SEN gets entered

NHL SE get Seattle

SENATORS gets sloppy and incomplete listings.

****

Just spent a hour trying to find a way to POST a question.

(I do not need another indian tech frying my home box, thanks)

Like the 'wrong number accusing me of calling them' incidents; (I called them. this happens, fix it and I hung up)

man, I would dump this service in a second. Rogers is worse.

Full cable package. unlimited dloads.

cable, phones, landline, internet.

expensive crap. I would cheerfully drop all this and go without.

(and have. got a lot of work done alone.)

#canada #writing #ai #politics #ottawa

4 notes · View notes

frozenhi-chews · 2 months ago

Note

HI HI MOOTSIE PATOOTSIE plz take this ask as a chance to gush about starlo if you want to :33

AAAAUGHH. STARLO. THE 'LO. OUGHH you are opening a very dangerous can of worms my dear friend! Nonetheless, THEY SHALL CRAWL! (Also this contains spoilers for UTY cuz I. Went nuts. About his character)

GOSH THIS MAN. THIS MAN. IVE BEEN CHEWING ON FIBER OPTIC CABLES CUZ OF HIM

I love him so much. And he seems like a silly guy, especially at first. Goofy cowboy, beloved by all. Seems he got it in the bag huh?

BUT NO HE'S ACTUALLY PRETTY TRAGIC. He actually hates himself (heck when he takes off his hat, he says that Clover could laugh at him. Like GOSH dude.) He has buried himself in the North Star persona that people don't realize he's a "nobody farmer" as he calls himself. He wants to distract others from their plight of being underground. He wants to help Ceroba. He wants to be seen as more. He wants to impress people. He paces around every night muttering to himself about...something. Whether it's Kanako or the town or himself or his family or something else or a mix of all of that.

Like gaahhhh. He really does hate himself. So much so he'll fake his smile so that others can still be happy. So much he'd rather be known as North Star rather than Starlo. Cuz Starlo is a nerd. He's a loser. He's a nobody farmer from a nowhere farm that sells corn. He is NOT OKAY.

And I don't think that Ceroba marrying Chujin helped either. OH RIGHT. HE HAD A CRUSH ON CEROBA!! His childhood best friend. He crushed on her for YEARS, until Ceroba got engaged to someone else. I don't think that helped either. Chujin and Starlo DID NOT like each other for a plethora of reasons, and I do believe one of them is jealousy on his end and the fact that he wasn't good enough for his best friend. (There's other reasons but ough.) Even though he had to get over his crush, I don't think it helped.

AND HE WAS STILL A GOOD FRIEND TO CEROBA. When her husband died, he didn't make any moves on her. (Platonic soulmates babeeyyyy!!)

O yeah and there's a thing going on where he locked his family out of the Wild East but it's like, a five minute walk away. He feels he can't be good enough for his family either. He left the farm to play cowboys (even tho his dad feels he wanted to help the farm, and I believe that), locking them out, not talking to them for a long time, possibly years. (I have a headcanon that his brother resents him a bit for leaving the farm and is jealous of the popularity that starlo has, while he's stuck at the farm.)

He couldn't be that far away from them, despite not talking to them and keeping them away. He can't be that far from his friends and family. He is trying so hard GOSH-

And to run a town like that for years, putting on a smile and act, being seen as how he wants to be seen rather than who he is, that's gotta be TIRING. Idk if he's just exhausted after all that. He's gotta be. No real safe place except himself

Gooooooshhhhh he makes me insane. I love him. I love him so much. Hhhhhaaaahhahahahahagaaaaaaaaa

#i can and will go nuts over Ceroba and Axis too #but NHGGG STARLO-#cake asks #🌵💫

6 notes · View notes

belsaas · 11 months ago

Text

An ode to the iRiver iHP-120

For whatever reason, I've found myself deeply nostalgic for high school as of late. And for me, that is intractable from nostalgia for what is perhaps the peak mp3 player ever made:

The iRiver iHP-120 was released in 2003, my sophomore year of high school, and it changed my life. This thing held an astounding 10GB of music—for comparison, most mp3 players at the time were flash based, and held 128 or 256 MB of music. The only big competitor at the time was the 1st generation iPod, a mac-exclusive device that transferred data over firewire and had to be synced using the fledgling iTunes. Juxtapose that to iRiver, who took what I like to call the "we don't give a fuck" approach:

When you plugged in the iHP-120 with USB 2.0, it just showed up as an external hard drive—you could throw whatever you wanted on there. Naturally, it could read mp3 files, but this thing introduced me to the world of audio codecs and processing in a way nothing could have prepared me. WMA files worked fine (a big deal at the time because of DRM issues, during the heyday of KaZaA and Limewire). You want to play uncompressed .WAV files? No problem, put them on there. FLAC files? Absolutely, let your audiophile freak flag fly. Fucking OGG Vorbis files played on this thing. Hell, you could put text files on here and read them.

(The firmware for these was also basically open-source, and people did even crazier stuff with them. By the time I retired my player, it could do gapless playback, crossfading, 10-band equalizing, normalization and more. I think I also changed the boot screen to a picture of Sailor Moon.)

But the magic didn't end at uploading music to the iHP-120—controlling this thing was more intuitive than any other device around at the time. All of your music was displayed on the player in whatever folder structure you loaded onto the device—navigating the music was as simple as using Windows Explorer. You had your standard play/pause, skip forward/back and volume controls on the front joystick, but what are the other buttons for?

Yeah. This thing was also a portable recorder. At anytime you could just hold down the Rec button and start recording with the onboard mic, or using an external input (more on that later). On the right side, an A-B Interval control. You ever wanted to just listen to one part of a song on repeat to learn the lyrics? Just hold down the button. Lastly a hold switch to disable control inputs while it was in your pocket—no accidentally pausing the music.

Okay, back to the external input mentioned before. The top of the iHP-120 is wild.

The top I/O panel of the iRiver iHP-120, with 4 jacks.

From right to left, you have a 3.5mm headphone jack (naturally), a 2.5mm microphone jack, the remote control port (more on this in a bit), and in white you have Line In/Out jacks which you could use to record as well as just plug in a second pair of headphones for a friend—jacks which support both 3.5mm analog input, as well as 3.5mm TOSLINK optical cables.

The TOSLINK 3.5mm male plug. A plug I only ever encountered on this device and the Sound Blaster X-Fi Titanium, a sound card I wrote a review of in 2009 which seems to still be up at PC Gamer and reading it now I don't know how any of my writing was ever published, let alone in print.

Chances are good you've never encountered this, it's phenomenally uncommon, and TOSLINK as a whole largely died with the emergence of HDMI—but this fucking mp3 player could both record and transmit fiber optic audio in uncompressed stereo or lossy 7.1 surround sound. In high school, I would plug the iHP-120 into our home theatre and listened to Porcupine Tree's Stupid Dream on repeat (side tangent, I'm pretty sad 5.1 album recording never really caught on, but the Dolby Atmos music format is better in every way, and I'm grateful Apple is bringing it into the mainstream).

"Okay, so we have an music player/text reader/voice recorder with optical audio, and basically every codec under the sun, what else could you go on about Erika?"

-you, the person reading this

THE REMOTE

Let me take you back to 2003. I was a depressed theatre kid teenager who would listen to Rooney on repeat on my Koss UR40s while crying over a girl who wanted nothing to do with me.

The Koss UR40 Headphones I wore like a fashion accessory everyday.

The other thing I wore everyday besides those headphones? Baggy cargo pants (it was acceptable at the time, I swear). Inside the right cargo pocket was my iRiver iHP-120, and clipped to the velcro flap of that cargo pocket was the iHP-115R remote control.

The iHP-120 remote unit

Every function of the iHP-120 could be controlled from this little fucker. Play/pause and stop buttons. Volume, skip track and recording are all here on rocker switches. You could even change the fucking bitrate of playback on this little thing, all without taking the actual mp3 player out of your pocket because the LCD screen on the remote has all the same info you'd get on the main unit.

The remote itself connected to the iRiver with that big plug you can see in the picture above (shamelessly stolen from Nathan Edwards who I worked with at PC Gamer in the late 2000s and only while writing this post discovered has already written a much more professional ode to the beauty of the iHP-120 this year).

You would plug your headphones into the remote, (or in my case you could also plug in your 1988 Chevrolet 2500 suburban's tape deck adaptor and have controls at your fingertips. No more distracted driving).

An image of a 1988 Chevorlet 2500 diesel Suburban. Not super relevant but god I miss my high school suburban. We would take the rear and middle benches out and put a queen-size mattress in the back, which 9 of my friends would ride on as we went to Little Caesar's for lunch. Also, cars just looked way fucking better back then.

I think I'm about done waxing nostalgic, but I really do miss the days of discrete devices—I kind of find myself fighting back against my smartphone. I have a camera I carry around, a pen and paper planner and writing notebook, and a kindle for reading. There's something appealing about not having my phone be my access to music either—rather, having a device that I just threw my music on and it plays it really well was rad. The iHP-120 was really fucking rad.

#audiophile #mp3 player #iriver #nostalgia #high school #ipod

11 notes · View notes

etherealestimation · 1 year ago

Text

you my friend just got an exceptionally quick lesson on time travel.

what.

it's 6:04. it was 6:43 2 minutes ago.

start making sense to me dude

you died. croaked. you're about to do it again. it's hard to describe but-

[sound of earthquake, confused hollering, (over fiber optic cable) furious typing]

[sound of bookshelf tipping over, terrified scream]

you my friend just got an exceptionally quick lesson on time travel.

what

it's 6:00. that's a bit better than last time.

start making sense to me dude

no time to explain. get to a doorway right now.

what

[sound of earthquake, brace against door, bookshelf, terrified scream continues for more than an hour.

a look out the window. outbuildings reduced to rubble. neighbor's house still standing. house still standing. status good.

6:40. in the distance. a small fire burns. checks phone and goes to call GE.

the call is struggling to connect. the dial tone plays six times, for one for each five second block out of time spent on the phone. an automated assistant answers.

6:42:31. a tree cracks at the roots. right through the roof. of the leftmost room on the top. skull split like a coconut.]

it's yesterday right now. 11pm. you're getting acclimated. it's hard I know. you're going to need to try harder though. you'll lose the L1 through L4 or 5, kinda depends on your pineal gland at this point.

what what the fuck could you possibly need at 11pm dude i'm asleep i've got that exam tomorrow

yeah but it'll be fine. don't worry. this is more important.

more important

ydax58v998bc4sjohvshfqyjz5vug6dcz900nemzbwhnfpphzzpufvykkpsiaid4ozmwxswmnytjj7rh3hl784n3gijperxgb2ea

huh

[phone rings. D-7d 10:10:31. in the lecture hall across from the courtyard. student excuses self out of class.]

why did you call me

i'm in a lecture man

this is pretty good. maybe even a lot better. you're still missing most of your L1-L4 but L5 is getting at least partly successfully backed up. we could probably train L1 before L4 if you wanted.

are you okay

since. okay that'll sound weird. take it seriously though. I need you to think happy thoughts about: winter, tortoise, pinewood scent.

i'm going to hang up i think seriously are you okay though

just keep thinking it okay. 7iru88cznpsygcutwnzhbhmgt0rrg97t8m8tl46fs6uo4efdt84i1atf92w2gtxjodm2z7fdyo0ap64imy7fptxioi0dio5p7bzb. d2c54fpm4kvu7z3jj6gum8weiwebi0urgkfl8coax5j7017btmv9go8o0hrr88gm7uwbu1fkj0iu1tbg3ea0j8z5at7bshrz59rb.

am i missing something

ding! check your phone!

[D-3y-3m-4d]

who are you

no time to explain. I need you to think sad thoughts about a japanese garden.

what what does that word mean to you

nothing. to you?

[D-2y-6m-28d]

we just met and this is gonna sound insane, but I need to ask when you last remember me from.

am I supposed to know how to answer that

hopefully!

[a long pause in the dark. the air is still and humid and thick.

two people behind a pizza hut. they're sharing the pizza.

D-2y-6m-27d. cars roll by.]

...$D

why do i kn

don't worry. can you remember the text you got on $D-3y-3m-4d. from a wrong number. sad thoughts about a japanese garden. do you remember that?

no?

shit. we're running out of space here. sad thoughts about the garden. the japanese garden. I never got this out of you but I know it's there.

[memories flood back. its strange sepia seeps across this brain. the shadow of his back. sweetness like a marshmallow candy. an unpleasant rotting on the back of one's tongue. the leather seats. the touch pressure of a cruel or dimwitted dentist trying to get thrown up on. like the other garden. hummingbirds take turns feeding from a fountain off a dirt road. grass pollen stains the air. lush watered green leaves a running water oasis on the back of this tanned grass plain.

the gardens]

i don't want to think of th

[quick flash. D-3y-3m-4d. 11:21:01.]

hey.

hey?

do i know you?

you will. what were you doing on $D-2y-6m-28d.

...i met you that can't be right dude what

good. good. how about $D.

i uh oh god

okay L4's all the way there I think. can you say precisely what happened on $D

[crying without sobbing.]

fine, we'll push that goal back a bit. but I think you got it so we can stop moving now.

[outright sobbing now. screaming no, no that didn't

it's not going to

it won't happen

it doesn't have to

if hasn't]

can I get you some water? this never gets any easier. I guarantee they're harder to experience than that.

who the fuck are you? what the fuck are you?

look you're not. you know what happened right?

nothing happened that's in the future that's not how time works

well you've got that wrong.

how did i do that

yeah

you thought about it. really hard. on a level that you're not used to think about anything. you remember that thought, it's the one you remember clear as day, but you're gonna have trouble parsing it because it's an emotion you've never felt before. you'll start to get a feel for it.

i think i still have to get to class.

it'll work itself out but you do. meet me here tomorrow.

[dreams. there are long streamers that hang off the back of a van which is filled with people. they dismount and fill an entire wall full of graffiti tags. they're passing out rattlecans of paint to passers by. the keys are lost. things go off the rails.

there's a boat just off the shoreline of a lake. two old men fish and watch carefully a pair of children, who also fish and look bored into the murky green waters of the reservoir.

in the gardens]

we don't have much time. I get like 5 minutes right?

my next class is actually in an hour i'm sorry i got cold feet i couldn't sleep last night at all i think i'm ready to believe you now

8 notes · View notes

edgyandoverzealous · 1 year ago

Text

South Park (shortened addition aka Lore and fandom need to knows)

(I found this in my notes app, and remembered I was told it might be useful. A bit outdated because I believe there are a couple more seasons I don't have access to but do with it as you will :3)

Season 1:

Cartman gets an Anal Probe

Big Gay Al' Gay Boat Ride

Death

Damien

Cartman's Mom is a Dirty slut

Season 2:

Cartman's Mom is still a Dirty Slut

Ike's Wee wee

City on the edge of forever

Chickenpox

Rodger Ebert Should Lay Off the Fatty Foods

Clubhouses

Spookyfish

Merry Christmas Charlie Manson

Gnomes

Season 3:

Rainforest Shmainforest

Spontaneous Combustion

Tweek vs Craig

Two Guys Naked in a Hot Tub

Jewbilee

Are you there God? It's me, Jesus

Season 4:

Cartman's silly hate crime 2000

Timmy 2000

Cherokee Hair Tampons

Something you can do with your finger

Do the handicapped go to hell

Probably

Fourth Grade

Pip

The wacky Molestation Adventure

Season 5:

Cripple fight

Scott Tenorman Must Die

Cartmanland

Towlie

The Entity

Here comes The neighborhood

Kenny Dies

Butters' Very own Episode

Season 6:

Jared Has aides

Aspen

Freak Strike

Fun with Veal

Professor Chaos

Red hot Catholic Love

Free Hat

Bebe's boobs destroy society

A ladder to heaven

The return of the Fellowship of the Ring to the Two Towers.

Season 7:

Cancelled

Toilet Paper

Little crime stoppers

Red man's greed

Casa Bonita

All about the Mormons

Butt out

Raisins

Season 8:

Good times with weapons

The Passion of the Jew

You got F'd in the A

Awesom-o

Something Wall-Mart This Way Comes

Preschool

Quest for Ratings

Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset

Cartman's incredible gift

Woodland Critter Christmas

Season 9:

Mr Garrison's fancy new vagina

Wing

Best friends forever

The Death of Eric Cartman

Two Days Before The Day After Tomorrow

Marjorine

Follow that Egg

Trapped in the closet

Free Willzyx

Bloody Mary

Season 10:

The return of Chef

Smug alert!

A million Little Fibers

Manbearpig

Taste

Miss teacher bangs a boy

Hell on earth 2006

Go God Go

Go God Go XII

Stanley's cup

Season 11:

Cartman Sucks

Fantastic Easter Special

D-Yikes

Night of the living Homeless

Imaginationland

Imaginationland Episode II

Imaginationland Episode III

Guitar Queer-o

The List

Season 12:

Tonsil Trouble

Britney's new look

Major Boobage

Canada on strike

Eek, a penis

Super fun time

Breast Cancer Show Ever

Pandemic

Pandemic 2- The Startling

Elementary School Musical

The Ungroundable

Season 13:

The Ring

The Coon

Margaritaville

Pinewood Derby

Fatbeard

Dead Celebrities

Butters' Bottom Bitch

Whale Whores

The F word.

Dances with Smurfs

Season 14:

Sexual healing

The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs

You have 0 friends

Crippled Summer

Poor and stupid

It's a jersey thing

Coon 2: hindsight

Mysterion Rises

Coon vs Coon and Friends

Season 15:

Royal Pudding

T.M.I

City Sushi

You're getting old

Ass Burgers

The Poor Kid

Season 16:

Reverse cowgirl

Jewpacabra

Butterballs

I should have never gone ziplining

Cartman finds love

Going Native

Obama wins!

Season 17:

Let go, let gov

Goth kids 3: Dawn of the posers

Taming Strange

Ginger Cow

Black Friday

A song of Ass and Fire

Titties and Dragons

Season 18:

The cissy

Handicar

The Magic Bush

Freemium isn't free

Grounded vindaloop

Cock magic

#REHASH

#HappyHolograms

Season 19:

All of it

Season 20:

All of it

Season 21:

Put it down

Hummels and Heroin.

Doubling Down

Moss Piglets

SUPER HARD PCness

splatty Tomato

Season 22:

Dead kids

A Boy and a Priest

Tegridy Farms

The Scoots

Time to get Cereal

Nobody got Cereal?

Buddha Box

Unfulfilled

Bike Parade

Season 23:

Shots

Let them eat goo

Tegridy Farms Halloween special

Board Girls

Turd Burglars

Basic Cable

Season 24:

The pandemic special

Season 25:

All of it

#south park #south park fandom #episode watch list #possibly useful #maybe not #please keep in mind it was made at like 3am and may have some missing because of my streaming service exhaustion etc #and may be out of date with new episodes not included

2 notes · View notes

sancliffinc · 7 months ago

Text

Mastering Precision Manufacturing with Tungsten Carbide Dies

In the realm of precision manufacturing, few materials hold as much importance as tungsten carbide. Renowned for its exceptional hardness, wear resistance, and thermal stability, tungsten carbide plays a critical role in various industries, from automotive and aerospace to electronics and tooling. At Sancliff, we harness the power of tungsten carbide to create high-performance dies that meet the demanding needs of modern manufacturing processes.

Understanding Tungsten Carbide:

Tungsten carbide is a composite material composed of tungsten and carbon atoms, typically combined with cobalt or nickel as a binder. This unique combination results in a material that is incredibly hard and durable, making it ideal for applications where wear resistance and longevity are paramount. Tungsten carbide is often used in the production of cutting tools, wear parts, and dies, thanks to its ability to withstand high temperatures, abrasion, and deformation.

The Role of Tungsten Carbide Dies:

Tungsten carbide dies are precision tools used in various manufacturing processes, including wire drawing, extrusion, and cold heading. These dies are essential for shaping and forming materials such as metal wires, rods, and tubes with precision and accuracy. The exceptional hardness and wear resistance of tungsten carbide make it an ideal material for dies, ensuring prolonged tool life and consistent performance even in the most demanding applications.

Applications of Tungsten Carbide Dies:

Tungsten carbide dies find applications across a wide range of industries and processes. In the wire drawing industry, tungsten carbide dies are used to reduce the diameter of metal wires while maintaining tight tolerances and surface finish. In extrusion processes, tungsten carbide dies shape materials into complex profiles and forms with precision and efficiency. Additionally, tungsten carbide dies are employed in cold heading operations to form metal blanks into finished parts such as bolts, screws, and rivets.

Advantages of Tungsten Carbide Dies:

The use of tungsten carbide dies offers several advantages over other materials. First and foremost is their exceptional hardness, which allows for prolonged tool life and reduced downtime due to wear. Tungsten carbide dies also exhibit high thermal stability, ensuring consistent performance even at elevated temperatures. Additionally, their superior wear resistance results in improved surface finish and dimensional accuracy of the final product. Furthermore, tungsten carbide dies require less frequent replacement, leading to cost savings and increased productivity over the long term.

Customization and Precision Engineering:

At Sancliff, we specialize in the design and manufacture of custom tungsten carbide dies tailored to meet the specific needs of our customers. Our team of experienced engineers works closely with clients to understand their requirements and develop dies that optimize performance, efficiency, and reliability. Whether you need standard dies or complex custom designs, we have the expertise and capabilities to deliver solutions that exceed your expectations.

Quality Assurance and Support:

At Sancliff, quality is our top priority. We adhere to stringent quality control measures throughout the manufacturing process to ensure that every tungsten carbide die meets our exacting standards of excellence. Additionally, we offer comprehensive support and service to our customers, including installation assistance, technical guidance, and troubleshooting expertise. With Sancliff, you can trust that your manufacturing processes are in capable hands.

Tungsten carbide dies are indispensable tools in precision manufacturing, offering unmatched hardness, wear resistance, and thermal stability. At Sancliff, we leverage the exceptional properties of tungsten carbide to create high-performance dies that enhance the efficiency, accuracy, and reliability of your production processes. From wire drawing and extrusion to cold heading and beyond, our custom tungsten carbide dies are engineered to meet the most demanding requirements of modern industry. Partner with Sancliff for precision, quality, and innovation in every die.

#fiber cable dies #split fiber die #fiber ribbon dies #optical fiber coating systems

0 notes

sancliff · 1 year ago

Text

Enhancing Optical Fiber Networks with Precision: Optical Fiber Coloring Dyes

In today's digitally driven world, the demand for high-speed and reliable internet connections has never been greater. Behind the scenes, optical fibers play a pivotal role in ensuring data travels swiftly and securely across vast distances. To optimize these networks, engineers and technicians rely on various components, including optical fiber coloring dyes. In this article, we will explore the significance of optical fiber coloring dyes and how they contribute to enhancing optical fiber networks.

Understanding Optical Fiber Coloring Dyes

Optical fiber coloring dyes are specialized substances used to identify and distinguish optical fibers within a network. These dyes are meticulously designed to meet stringent industry standards and ensure precise color-coding of individual fibers. By assigning unique colors to each fiber, network administrators can streamline installation, maintenance, and troubleshooting processes.

Key Benefits of Optical Fiber Coloring Dyes

1. Efficient Installation: During the installation phase, optical fibers are often bundled together. Coloring dyes make it easy for technicians to identify specific fibers, reducing the chances of errors and speeding up the installation process. This efficiency is crucial for meeting tight project timelines.

2. Quick Identification: In the event of network maintenance or repairs, identifying the correct fiber quickly is vital. Optical fiber coloring dyes enable technicians to pinpoint the problem area swiftly, minimizing network downtime.

3. Error Reduction: Human error is a common factor in network maintenance and troubleshooting. The use of coloring dyes reduces the likelihood of cross-connecting or misidentifying fibers, leading to more reliable and stable networks.

4. Safety: In high-density optical fiber installations, safety is paramount. Coloring dyes enhance safety by reducing the chances of accidental disconnections or mishandling of fibers.

5. Organization: An organized network is easier to manage and maintain. Optical fiber coloring dyes contribute to a neat and organized network layout, which aids in efficient network management.

Types of Optical Fiber Coloring Dyes

There are various types of optical fiber coloring dyes available, each with its unique characteristics and applications:

1. Acrylate-Based Dyes: These dyes are widely used for indoor optical fiber cabling. They are known for their vibrant colors and excellent adhesion properties, ensuring long-lasting color-coding.

2. Polymer-Coated Dyes: Polymer-coated dyes are designed for outdoor applications where exposure to harsh environmental conditions is a concern. They offer UV resistance and durability, making them suitable for outdoor installations.

3. Water-Resistant Dyes: In situations where moisture and water exposure are possible, water-resistant dyes are the ideal choice. They maintain their color-coding integrity even when exposed to damp environments.

4. Heat-Resistant Dyes: High-temperature environments require heat-resistant dyes that can withstand extreme temperatures without fading or deteriorating.

Why Choose Sancliff Optical Fiber Coloring Dyes?

When it comes to optical fiber coloring dyes, choosing a reputable supplier is crucial to ensure the highest quality and reliability. Sancliff, a trusted name in the industry, offers a wide range of optical fiber coloring dyes designed to meet the stringent demands of modern optical fiber networks.

Here's why Sancliff should be your preferred choice for optical fiber coloring dyes:

1. Industry Expertise: With years of experience in the field, Sancliff understands the unique needs of optical fiber network professionals and continually develops innovative coloring dye solutions.

2. Quality Assurance: Sancliff's coloring dyes undergo rigorous quality control tests to ensure color accuracy, durability, and performance in a variety of conditions.

3. Customization: Sancliff offers customization options, allowing you to choose the specific colors and formulations that best suit your network requirements.

4. Environmental Responsibility: Sancliff is committed to sustainability and environmental responsibility, ensuring that its products comply with eco-friendly standards.

In the ever-evolving landscape of optical fiber networks, precision and efficiency are paramount. Optical fiber coloring dyes, such as those provided by Sancliff, play a crucial role in streamlining installation, maintenance, and troubleshooting processes. By choosing high-quality coloring dyes, network administrators can ensure their networks are not only faster and more reliable but also easier to manage and maintain. Make the smart choice for your optical fiber network and enhance its capabilities with Sancliff's optical fiber coloring dyes. Visit https://www.sancliff.com today to explore its range of coloring dye solutions and experience the difference in network optimization.

#Fiber cable dies #Fiber optic coating dies #Optical fiber coloring dies

0 notes

wanderingchocolateeclair · 2 years ago

Text

Interdimensional Therapy AU - Part 5

A crossover fic with @laughteronsilverwings!

Previous Part || Next Part

(starts with s!jeanist and changes pov with the - )

Tsunagu considered. “Well. What kind of lock do you have on your door? Digital or physical? And do you have cameras in your halls? Stairwell? Is there a way for us to sneak out without alerting anyone through the door?”

He paused to answer the question. “I’ve walked on electric cabling before. And I can balance on those… wire fences? The ones that are steel and have wires in diamond patterns. And I’m decent at running rooftops quietly. I’ve jumped out of windows before, but I haven’t ziplined.”

Tsunagu’s pretty sure he can pick a physical lock with the wires he has on him. Though, depending on how expensive it was, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. And in his experience, ‘proper locks’ tended to be surprisingly easy to pick, if you could manipulate wires-slash-cables like he could. “I don’t mind going out the window, though,” He muses. “Any cameras? Trackers on you?”

Tsunagu stretched his arms out. “Well, picking the lock or just- shutting off the mechanism inside would work pretty easily… but first, there are cctv cameras and other heroes that live in this building. And second,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I kinda don’t wanna have it messed with…”

He turned to the balcony. “Well, good to know you are well experienced.” He raised his eyebrow. “If you are okay with the window idea, taking note we are on the highest floor of one of the tallest buildings on this side of the city, then feel free to follow me out onto the balcony!”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I do this very often. I have a method.” He paused in thought, realizing how dodgy it sounds to try and lead a fifteen-year-old him, that wasn’t him- well, no, anyone, out onto a balcony in the means of jumping off.

“Up to you, though. It’s pretty high though it doesn’t faze me- I’d say it's the most efficient way out and onto the street without getting caught.”

Tsunagu peeked over the balcony, Jean standing next to him. It’s not that high. Then again, he’d free climbed the Eiffel Tower a few times, so maybe his standards were skewed. “I’m fine with it. How do we get down? Do you use… wires?”

He buttoned up the trenchcoat and made sure nothing could get snagged on the way down. Including the new hair- he put it in a ponytail. “And should I take my glasses off for this?”

If he did, it’d be a little sad. The view was amazing. Tsunagu could genuinely just stare at it for an hour, maybe. The feeling of ‘you are tiny and in the end, you will die’ was bubbling up in him, but in a good way.

He doesn’t want people to pick over the corpse of his life, after he dies. Tsunagu would like to be forgotten, honestly. Probably. The universe is grand. Humanity had the potential to be grander. The city was beautiful, from up high, and sometimes down below. Stuff like that.

He takes one last look at the lights, then turns back to Jean.

Tsunagu smiled. He’d kind of zoned out for a moment, staring at the city, but he cut off his thoughts before they went anywhere and turned back around to Arcane who, seemingly, was doing the same.

“I think your glasses should be fine, as long as you stay as steady as you can. I’m keeping mine on.” He noted. “You may want to step slightly to the side for a moment.”

Using his quirk, Tsunagu pulled a large box from inside and placed it down, the lid flying off and revealing a large spool of thick cables, used for construction and many other things. He unravelled it and sent two long pieces into the air.

He made sure they were of the right length before tying them both to the railing of a shorter building’s rooftop, just opposite them, and securing this side of the cables to the balcony they were standing on.

“Industrial strength cables. Very handy for such things!” Tsunagu smiled proudly. “Back home, I just use my clothes fibers or fabric. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to implement these kinds of cables into my hero support gear.” He thought aloud.

“Anyway, there’s a rooftop stairwell just a few buildings down from that one.” He gestured to where the cables led. “So. It’s hard to explain, but, you just. Stand on the cable and steady yourself, and then lean forwards and slide. Like a zipline… except we’re on top of the cable…” He tried to explain without sounding crazy. “Just keep your own clothes and fibers balanced, don’t worry about the cables, and you’ll be fine!” He said matter-of-factly.

Tsunagu stepped up onto the railing and stood there for a moment before turning back to Arcane. “I can go first if you’d like.”

…Huh. Well. Tsunagu can very safely say that he didn’t expect this to be how Jean got around. “I’m… I can use my own way? I have my cords in my bag.” He coils them out. Bungee cords, with hooks on the end. “I have a grappling-hook thing to shoot them out with. And I usually have modified ones, but I didn’t have them with me today.”

Though. This way did look very fun. But there’s just- one question he needs to ask. “Did you steal these from a building site? They look industrial-grade. And you can’t really buy these wires without a reason, I’ve tried before.”

He’d wanted to try yanking a building down. And Tsunagu had done it, but without these wires.

He made a little harness out of the bungee cords, walked over, and also sat down on the railing, next to Jean. Then Tsunagu attaches the cord to the thicker wire. “Insurance. I wouldn’t mind dying, but I’d prefer I shimmy off of this plane of existence in my own universe. So. Can you demonstrate this to me?”

Ah. Yeah, that was fair. Arcane came from a different ‘verse and that meant there probably would be differences in the way they navigated through places.

‘Bungee cords, huh. Pretty handy to keep on you at most times.’ He made a mental note of that.

“Of course! It may be safer… actually- if you use the way you’re most used to.” He nodded, before smiling slightly at the other’s cable-related-question.

“Ah…well… you got me there-” Tsunagu laughed slightly. He had stolen those cables, and well- it was less of a steal and more of a pulled-the-cables-straight-off-of-a-building-in-construction-out-of-spite kind of thing.

The snobbish asshole, one of those rich high-up CEOs, decided he wanted to build a skyscraper right in the middle of the most scenic part of the city. Talking about getting rid of the parks and scenery… Yeah, Tsunagu hated that. Plus he was an asshole…

So Tsunagu did what everyone would’ve done -or so he tells himself- and he pulled the cables down, mid-construction, and… well… big crash! The CEO may or may not have been under the building… but that can be ignored… Tsunagu felt no regret for that.

“Let’s just say, I stole them while they were… in use.” He laughed. “The building was crappy anyway-”

Shimmy-ing off this plane of existence… Tsunagu has never related so hard to a fifteen-year-old-not-quite-him in his life.

“Well. A demonstration, you shall have!” Tsunagu jumped up, landing on the cables and keeping himself steady. “I guess I’ll see you over there, then!”

With that, he let gravity guide his body along the cable and kept his footing steady. He’d done this so many times, it was practically muscle memory at this point. The wind whipped against his face, and he laughed a little, looking down at the road below him and getting ready to jump off onto the roof.

A small thud, and Tsunagu’s feet were safely planted on the rooftop of the other building. He spun around and gave Arcane a wave and an ‘All done!!’ signal.

Uh. Well- first problem. Physics did not work like that for him. Secondly- there was no second problem. Tsunagu’s fine with doing this, it’s just that the laws of his universe were standing in his way.

But this wasn’t his universe. But the laws might have followed him over… ehh. He’ll just walk across.

–

He ends up just strolling across the wire, bungee-cord-harness trailing behind him. Honestly, Tsunagu feels like it might’ve been a little bit faster to throw himself off and wait for momentum to cease. Ooh. Actually, would that have worked? He’s done the knife-in-building trick before, it usually ends in something snapping -be it his bones, the knife, or the building-, but it hasn’t ended in his quick and sudden death.

So it might work here? Tsunagu considers, and then his feet hit concrete. Oh. He’s arrived at the second building. “I think,” He says, serious as stone. “That we might have different physics in our worlds.”

The bungee harness unravels and sloughs back into his bag. Jean’s clapping. Tsunagu doesn’t know if he’s processed his words yet, but he appreciates the applause.

Tsunagu watched as Arcane made his way across and offered a light round of applause as he arrived. “Welcome to the other side, friend.” He jokingly said, using a flick of his wrist to untie the cables and return them back to his apartment, sliding them into the box and flinging the box inside, closing the balcony window-door-thing behind it.

“Physics? Who cares about physics-” Tsunagu chuckled, spinning around and leading them to the edge of the roof top and gesturing a few buildings down the street. “We need to get over there, to that building. There's a stairwell we can use to get down to the main street and we can go from there!”

He took a leap and landed on the next building. “It’s just a few jumps. Pretty sure you’ve mentioned you’ve used rooftops before, right?”

He scratched his head. “Oh- and if it makes it any better about the physics- I’m only sliding that way because I’m controlling all of my clothes to do so. Moving myself forward in a straight line, if that makes sense.”

Tsunagu thinks about this. It- made sense? But also not really? You know what, he’ll stop thinking about this. Physics could be bent over a desk, for all he cares about it. He’s pretty sure he’s broken a few laws, just by existing (granted, those laws weren’t determined by some fundamental, unknown, power in the universe), so Tsunagu just decides to roll with it.

“I’ve used rooftops before, yes.” He runs and jumps, throwing himself over with his quirk. Clothes and muscles, kind of. Not really- Tsunagu usually had a reinforced harness for this, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally, uh, rip out all his muscles. Or leave himself naked in the street. “Don’t worry about the physics. Ah- are we far away enough from all the bugs, now? We can continue our question-for-a-question thing. Or we could wait until we’re on the street. I don’t sense any tails.”

He catches up to Jean-slash-Wren. Tsunagu’ll keep calling him Jean in his head, and Wren using his mouth. That… probably would work. Hopefully. “I think it’s your turn to ask.”

Ah. of course. That was what they were doing.

“Oh, good point.” Tsunagu nodded. “Yeah, we’re far enough now.”

He took another leap and waited for Arcane to follow. His legs were kinda hurting. Then again, he had decided to come into work after only just recovering from having them injured by a person with a mallet-based quirk… oh well.

A question, huh? What could he ask? They’d gotten pretty sidetracked earlier, and he still is pretty curious about Arcane’s semi-personal life. Not to pry, but it is hard not to be curious about the life of someone who is not you, but also kinda is you. Sort of.

“So…any family? Siblings?” He asked, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“No,” Tsunagu replies immediately. “Well. Biologically, yes. And they’ve provided for all my material needs, but nothing more than that.” He considers. “I think I’ve seen them… maybe fifteen, sixteen times this year? Or less. It’s mostly because they bring me to those politics-parties as an accessory.” He doesn’t mind it. It’s easier this way on all three of them- his mother and father get to display the picture-perfect happy family, and Tsunagu gets left alone.

…it could have been so much worse. See- the abuse cases. He was a textbook case of neglect, kind of. Well, probably, but he didn’t care about it, he guesses? It was what had happened.

He leaps across one rooftop, rolls, and catches up. “Your legs are very long,” He observes. Jean’s also limping a little bit. It’s not really noticeable, but it’s there. “Do you want to get off and walk on ground level? Or take a break.”

“I see… sorry to hear that.” Tsunagu sighed. Yeah, that explains some things. It also puts into perspective a little more on just how different their backgrounds are. “Well…” he trailed off, thinking about what to say. “I hope you’ll find some that you can eventually call family.” He settles with saying encouragingly, with a soft smile.

He considers mentioning his own family, but thought best to leave it as it was - seeing as Arcane had made his feelings about his own family rather clear from his reply.

“Ah… my legs are rather long.” Tsunagu noted, and the fact that he was in heeled boots probably made that more obvious. And also probably a stupid thing, considering his injuries-

“Don’t worry, the stairwell is just there!” He paused, leaping on cue onto the final rooftop and waiting for Arcane. “We can head down and take a minute after we’re on ground level… unless you want to take a break for a second? That’s also fine!”

Tsunagu spots the stairwell as soon as Jean points it out. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” He jumps over an air-conditioning unit, and lands on the stairs after a little bit more jogging. “So- my question.”

He thinks about it. Oh. He’s got it. “Were you a vigilante? I was. Well, am.” Tsunagu… also wants to ask about Jean’s family, dig into him a little bit, but now wasn’t really the time for this. He probably should also start looking into a way back to his universe -maybe via the guy that had sent Jean here?-, but he wasn’t too concerned about it.

There were maybe three people that would miss him. Actually, probably less.

He waits for Jean to answer at the entrance of the stairwell.

Tsunagu stopped to think for a moment. “Hmm… well, I guess so.” He enters the stairwell and starts walking down. “I did some vigilante-type stuff, back just before and in my early years of UA. But none of it was that extreme - compared to, what I’m assuming, you’ve done or have been doing.”

He turned to make sure Arcane was following him. “Mostly just helping around the neighbourhood, trying to take my mind off of some personal trauma. Or punching bad guys in the face. It was very therapeutic to throw them around and tie them up- or just kind of play with them a little, scaring them until the police arrived.” he laughed. “It still is my favourite part of hero work, actually.”

He cleared his throat, thinking about what he could ask. Ah.

“You mentioned you’re a vigilante, as of now, aren’t you? Uhh… how did you end up on the vigilante route, if i may ask?”

Tsunagu considered. “Well,” He said slowly. “I was always going to go into heroics.” How the fuck was he supposed to sum this up? “And then when I was a bit older, I started blackmailing people. So I guess that could be counted as vigilantism? But I started going out and fistfighting people on my first trip to France. Also in Paris, actually, and that whole thing was a shitshow. I give it three out of ten stars. Would not recommend.”

“And then I went back to Japan, and just kinda kept going.” He nodded. Yep. That’s good enough.

Though, it seemed like Jean had done it for longer than him, but also less… intense. Probably. Then it struck him. “Wait. Did you say- UA? The top heroics school? It’s Yuuei in my ‘verse. Um, Nedzu exists here, right?”

And he’d said that he went vigilante because of trauma. What trauma? Well, Tsunagu’s found his next question.

Hm. Well now that sounded interesting. “Paris, huh?” He smiled to himself. “Yeahh… I also had quite the eventful trip to Paris.” He thought back, making note to ask more at a later time. Arcane seemed to have experienced things there, and Tsunagu was curious.

‘Blackmail… that’s always fun.’ He made an unreadable expression. ‘Yeah, let’s leave that thought there, Tsunagu.’

Yuuei? UA? Interesting.

“Huh…” he thought, they were almost at the bottom of the stairwell now. “Yes, the top heroics school. That’s interesting… same name, but slightly different spelling and pronunciation?” He tilted his head. Little things like that made him slightly curious as to how it may be in other universes, not just his or Arcane’s. “Yes. Nedzu definitely exists…”

Of course he does. As much as Tsunagu respected him, that principal was- well- a menace to say the least.

They’d reached the end of the stairwell, stepping out onto the street. Tsunagu gestured for Arcane to follow him to a nearby bench to sit down for a moment.

“So…” he thought hard. What could he ask? Ah! Paris… “What made you come to Paris? Or- well… go. To Paris. You didn’t come here.” He laughed, sitting down.

Paris, apparently, was a constant. In that it was filled with (probable) chaos and crime. It was good to know Nedzu still existed- well, kind of? It was good for him emotionally. Maybe not for Tsunagu’s secrets, mental health, and… yeah. He was a being of pure chaotic good, in Dungeons and Dragons alignment. He’d put himself as chaotic neutral, and Jean… maybe also chaotic good? Tired good, honestly, if that was a thing.

“Yep. It’s just- a ‘u’ and an ‘a’ here, right?” The pronunciation was so… weird. It was almost exactly, just shorter, and the two words were more distinct. Also more English-y. “Paris- well, I’m not sure. I was… very sleep deprived when I booked a two-way ticket-” Tsunagu had been on a rebellious streak, and had wanted to see what sort of things he could get away with. The answer was a lot. He’d sort of rigged a few sales. Fucked a few big corporations over. Murdered a governmental official. “-to France. And it was to Paris. So, since I’d already booked it, I just kind of went.”

He shrugged. And also sat down on the step. “Oh, actually… what sort of food should we get? Do you have money? I can pickpocket a few people.”

Tsunagu’s assuming Jean knows about the criminal underground, here. Here’s to hoping they didn’t have the clockwork god cult. He doesn’t want a round… four? Six? Another round of ‘avoid light-slash-shadows’ with Aloys. “That’s not my question, though, I’m saving that after we get some food.”

He is legitimately hungry. And Jean’d said he also didn’t eat lunch, and their quirks, Tsunagu’s assuming, probably both run on calories.

Tsunagu laughed. “I see! Guess I’m not the only one who has booked a flight somewhere under the tempting hands of sleep deprivation!” Though his spontaneous trip had not been to France, it was to London… yeah, he most likely never wanted to go there again. Lasted one week, before booking an entirely new flight just to get out of there quicker.

Oh yeah, right, food. He was very hungry, and there was no doubt that so was Arcane. “Hmm…” He thought for a moment, looking down the road. This wasn’t exactly a back alley, but it was one of the smaller and less busy streets. “Well, if we carry on down that way, we’ll end up on the main road and after walking a little bit there’s a rather big night market.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “There will be plenty of different types of food there, and even some other miscellaneous stalls…” Tsunagu smiled and reached for his phone. “Don’t worry about the money, we should be f-”

Oh. Oh fuck. That’s not good.

So, his phone was dead. He sort of expected that, as these things usually go along the lines of ‘get magically teleported somewhere, try to make contact, get stuck because the process killed all means of communication.’ This wasn’t any different. But no. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he didn’t have money on him.

This was his work phone, and usually he carried his card and some money with him in the phone case in case of emergency - because it takes up less space than his wallet - like now. But unfortunately, it looks like he had either left it at home or it had fallen out and been stolen. And neither of those situations helped right now, though he knew what he’d prefer.

“Ahh…ha…” He turned to Arcane awkwardly, holding up his phone. “So… maybe we may have to do a bit of pocket picking- my money isn’t here.”

Well. At least they weren’t in Japan. Pro hero Best Jeanist can’t risk that. Luckily, over here, he is Wren, not Best Jeanist - meaning that such matters can be dealt with in… a much less legal way, without him worrying about public image. Like last time!

“Oh well.” He shrugged, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Guess we might as well hop to it. I dunno about you, but I’m pretty excited for some food right now.” He hopped to his feet and stretched.

“Oh! One more thing!” He’d just remembered. “How’s your French?”

--------------End Part---------------

#bnha #best jeanist #hakamada tsunagu #interdimensional therapy au #:D #brain isnt here rn so here have this with no commentary from me this time

4 notes · View notes