#i've got the best little family

[sysig]

How is skeleton shaped (Patreon)

[myths-of-fantasy]

I should be working on my other days

I am actually integrating magic more into The Black Wolf Capers.

Anyway VILE was now founded by a cult that worshipped a god, Greed who would offer his followers endless and eternal riches and is in constant conflict with the followers of Envy. Carmen was meant to be a vessel for Greed, merging with her soul to grant him physical form so he could better influence the world, but Dexter Wolfe tried to run off with her. It didn't work obviously, but eventually Carmen escaped before the transfer could happen.

Now VILE is chasing her around the world, both bc she's destroying their organization and also is preventing them from releasing Greed.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 9 / 31 * BREAKTHROUGH 」

Walking through it hadn’t felt entirely real the first time Emmett had taken her to see the old house. Even though Clara could envision everything she had ever wanted, reach out and touch the near-tangible visions, as if human touch was all it would take to bring them to life as they walked from one dusty room to another, the pragmatist in her reminded her that this was only one set of possibilities. 

A potential future. One within reach, though nebulous, shifting and shimmering like an apparition.

But the more homes they viewed, the more she grew attached to this potential future, seeing nothing so bright and vibrant in any of the other houses. Oh, they could be happy in any of them, certainly, they’d done well with that already given their less than ideal living conditions for a growing family of four on the outskirts of Hill Valley—none of which were Emmett’s fault—but she had wanted more for her family and if they were going through all the trouble to uproot their lives to settle down in Emmett’s time, she refused to compromise.

Fortunately, having lived in the same cramped conditions for the last decade, Emmett was more than inclined to agree with her visions for their to-be home.

He’d done the best he could, improving their situation little-by-little with his knowledge of the future, but there was only so much that could be done when the builders and designers of her home clearly put little to no thought into the occupant and their convenience. 

Were she a woman of weaker constitution, it would have bothered her even more severely, however there was only so much that could be ignored as Jules and Verne continued growing at an alarming rate.

Both boys would surely take after their father.

This time, she would see to it that all the concerns that arose from their situation in the Nineteenth Century were properly addressed this time around. 

And then they found this house. Or, from what Emmett said, Marty had found this house and passed the information along. She would have to thank him properly for his invaluable help later.

For this house–!

Standing on the walkway, gazing up at their house—their house, Clara repeats in her mind, almost giddy with excitement—it feels surreal. The major step to making the move had just been completed and finalised and Emmett standing there, holding the keys and the paperwork to their new home, crowned in gold by the early afternoon sun, looks like a dream. 

Even with the exterior battered and beaten by the elements, it was clear that once, the two-story home had been a proud, beautiful building. Making it perfect would be a project, but the idea of complicated renovations did not sour her to the home in the slightest. The fact that they had all this space and then some–perhaps more than they needed for their modest family–well, she was still wrapping her head around it and the fact that they had all these futuristic amenities now to make their lives easier lent only to more and more possibilities. 

It was far away enough from the major populated areas to provide them peace and privacy, yet not so far that a trip into town would require proper planning and preparation and eat up a majority of the day. With the transportation available in this century–Clara was still growing accustomed to the sheer number of automobiles on the road in some of those areas and to her credit, she hadn't let out the same unladylike shriek she did the first time one of those things had roared at her–Emmett assured her that travel into town would take far less than the hour plus it took to return home on horseback. 

“We’ll never have to worry about space again,” Emmett says, smiling, and Clara finds herself drawn further into his orbit, hanging on her husband’s every word. “There’s plenty of space for you and me, for the boys—and when they eventually become teenagers and can’t stand the sight of one another for long, there’s more than enough room to put between them—and there will be space for Marty to stay.” 

He wraps his arm around Clara's waist. 

“The realtors assured me that everything is structurally sound, but I trust them about as far as I can throw them, so I’d like to double-check before we start settling in.”

Clara nods, finding sense in that. “So you'll be making a few trips here yourself in the meantime.”

“You and the boys are welcome to come, of course, but I figure it will get done quickly if the boys aren't distracted by all the new things happening around them. It would be good to expose them to life in this century slowly rather than shocking their systems by thrusting them into it, but that may be better a little further into the renovations. Let them explore the property on their own, the house once I’m absolutely certain they won’t stumble across any weak points and fall through, and get used to seeing things that are normal for this time, but the equivalent of magic a hundred years ago."

“You're right. And with Verne's penchant for trouble lately, I'd rather not run the risks. I know you said this was a quiet location without too much traffic, but God forbid he forgets about those–those—”

“Cars?” 

“Yes. Cars, thank you.”

“They'll just have to be patient. We’ll focus on their rooms first, set up ours and the majority of the home so it’s at least habitable, then focus our attention on the cosmetic things. I may enlist Marty's help with some of the cleaning if he's willing and able.” Emmett hums.

“We’ll need a place to store the Time Machine,” Clara says, leaning against Emmett’s arm. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving it out in the open, even with your security measures in place.”

“No, the Train draws far too much attention and the last thing I need is somebody spotting it and poking around where they don’t belong. Remember, I'm not exactly Hill Valley's favourite citizen. I’ve been thinking about that since we settled on this house and I have a few ideas in mind.” 

Suddenly, Emmett snaps his fingers. “I’ll also need to construct a private study, one the boys and any of the friends they may invite over won’t be able to sneak into where we can keep some of the more sensitive”–dangerous, Clara’s mind supplies–“documents and experiments of mine. As for the lab…my childhood home saw my garage turned into a lab independent of the house and I think, for safety reasons, I’ll do the same here. The old barn, once fixed up, would make an excellent workspace.”

Clara’s eyebrows shoot up and she throws her husband a half-concerned, half-amused look.

“Not that I plan to be working on anything inherently dangerous or life-threatening,” he adds quickly underneath the weight of his wife’s stare. “But accidents do happen even when you’re being careful and I’ve been on the receiving end of more than a few of those over the years. I’d rather not take any unnecessary risks, especially not with you and the boys living there.”

“Of course not.”

[hollenka99]

Artur V now has his great great grandfather as a rival for the title of 'emperor with the most unhinged family dynamic'.

[eggmeralda]

I may have lost all hope

[dredshirtroberts]

took the calculated risk of going out and meandering around town and looking through shops. in some ways i enjoy the throbbing ache of used muscles and bones as i rest. in other ways i hate it because i know as soon as i move it's going to intensify to Extreme Pain and i've already had the max amount of medicine i can take right now, and can't take any more for another 2.5-3 hours.

[silverandebony]

.

[whispers-toarhapsody]

tag dump

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[diabeticdelight]

..

[icewindandboringhorror]

golf

[jayaorgana]

I finished Balance point and...

[partywithponies]

Rupert Galvin is so. He talks about being too old for this and his monster fighting days being nearly over and how he won't be around forever. My guy you are like 45 not 80. I think Rupert has just already accepted that he's not going to die of old age and that he's only survived this far on sheer luck. His wife and his best friend/fighting partner both died in their 20s. Technically Mina died in her 20s too, she's just been undead for 125 years. From Rupert's perspective, he's already been living on borrowed time for the past two decades.

Rupert Galvin :( :( :(

[pogatog]

Quite possibly one of the most creatures of all time

[mantlehold]

look at the dad.

then look at his step kids (who he sees as his babies, his children).

[teaboot]

Wait why were you in israel/palestine? Aren’t you canadian?

I am. A friend of my family was traveling from Egypt to Jerusalem on pilgrimage and someone who had reserved a spot in the group had to drop out, so there was a last-minute seat available and they asked me if I was interested.

Life is short, and it wasn't the sort of trip I'd be able to afford on my own in a million years, so I tagged along as the token agnostic.

And I'm glad I did, because a few months later some of the places we'd visited were leveled flat.

A lot of beautiful, rolling green hillsides are charred dust now, and good, kind people are dead.

Buildings we slept in are gone. Children who waved to us in the street are gone. Small shops and vendors and houses are gone. Old men gathered together to smoke and chat in little rooms by the streetside are gone.

Passing from Israel into Palestine was a visible, abrupt switch from a modern city not unlike Vancouver to a slum. Like some of the reservations I've been to here up north that go to shit sometimes, where the Chief and his family all have brand new BMW's and nobody else has had their plumbing fixed.

Buildings were repaired with minimal supplies, trash was gathered in the streets, and the roads were bare dirt for long stretches at a time. You could tell that this wasn't a place being treated kindly, but people were doing their best. Everyone we met treated us well. Everyone we met was kind, and welcoming, and generous.

One man I spoke with said he was hoping to come to Canada someday. Take his family and live here. He asked how cold it got.

I told him that their winter was like our summer. He didn't like that- said he didn't like being cold.

I told him to wait for summer, then, and he could visit with me. Told him everywhere he'd have to see when he arrived, all the best landmarks and museums.

The first bombs dropped before winter.

I don't know if he waited.