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twilightmalachite · 2 months ago

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VS★PRINCESS - Battle Royale 1

Characters: Mao, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

JP Proofreader: 310mc

EN Proofreader: Asia Blossoms

"I know about audition programs~! I’ve never been on one, but I’ve seen those sorts of shows, you know!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Dome Pathway

The next day. On a road near the 4piece venue…

Mao: Ohh, I can see it!

Or well, more like it’s the thing we’ve been looking at for a while now.

The venue’s ridiculously huge, isn’t it? The biggest one we’ve ever been to was the one for the SS, but…

The size of this could probably fit four entire SS venues, huh?

It’s huge to the point you can’t really grasp just how big it is up close. There doesn’t seem to be any windows or anything either, so there’s no way to know what’s going on inside.

…Subaru? Are you listening? At least give me a reply, it feels lonely, you know~?

Subaru: … …

Mao: Are you still sulking? Come on, if I could, I would also have loved to go wild with everyone from Trickstar too.

But y’know, 4piece is a competition between individuals. That’s what the rules say, so we gotta stick to them.

So I’ll be your rival here, just this once.

I’ll get you swiftly eliminated if you let yourself get distracted, so you better prepare yourself, got it~? ♪

Subaru: … …

…Oh, sorry, Sally~! Did you say something? I wasn’t listening!

Mao: Hey, hey, are you seriously alright…? What’s wrong? I remember something about you going to visit your father’s grave yesterday—

Subaru: Yeah. I also met a rather strange kid there, too.

I ended up staying up late talkin’ to him, so I’m a bit sleep deprived… Yaaawn♪

It’s true, your daily rhythm and such gets all out of whack once you’re no longer home, huh?

When I’m at home I gotta do housework for my mom too, so it’d force me to live somewhat of a typical life…

But more importantly. How come it’s only you here? Not tryna say you’re not enough, Sally~, but I wish we could have everyone all together!

Mao: You don’t understand the situation here at all, do you…?

Subaru: If I’m not interested, then I don’t know ‘bout it! Ahahahaha! ☆

Mao: You should try to at least be a little more interested, okay? Apparently this 4piece thing—It’s an unprecedentedly large-scale audition program!

It’s called 4piece—Its official name being THUNDERBOLT CHALLENGE 4piece.

Subaru: Thun-der-boul… Uh, what? I didn’t catch that at all!

Mao: You might have a good ear, but my English pronunciation is kinda…

Anyway, that’s also why everyone calls it 4piece for short, since it’s so long.

Well, at this point in time, I still don’t know exactly what it is, either.

Subaru: I know about audition programs~! I’ve never been on one, but I’ve seen those sorts of shows, you know!

Mao: Oh, so you’re dedicated to your study enough to watch programs that have nothing to do with you?

Subaru: No, nothing like that. Dad first started out on an audition program, so it’s mostly ‘cause of him.

It’s something like a program that gathers up aspiring idols, fledgling idols with no experience being idols at all, and have them compete in things like singing and dancing.

The person who did the best in the competition, in other words, the champion, will get to officially debut as an idol, or something like that?

I guess you could call it a program where they made a bunch of amateurs compete with “their debut as a reward!” I suppose?

But, we’ve already had our debut, haven't we? So what’ll be our reward then? There’s no reason for us to compete against each other, is there?

Mao: It seems like there’s a special prize of some sort. Whatever it is, though, is shrouded in mystery; they’re as secretive as ever with it…

Subaru: 4piece sure is strict about their spoilers, huh.

Mao: Well, people would be able to come up with countermeasures if they preemptively released information about the competition, which wouldn’t be fair.

So I guess they’ve really got no other choice but to approach it like that.

Subaru: That’s true. I don’t really care about whatever the reward is, but I’m sure the people who want it would prepare and train in advance and such.

Mao: People might even try pulling things behind the scenes. Then it’d be even less fair of a competition.

I mean, if that sort of skeevy interference was allowed, then it’d be impossible to win against Tenshouin-senpai or Sakuma-senpai. Doesn’t seem like either of them are participating this time, though.

But, since the disclosing of spoilers like that are thoroughly forbidden, 4piece will probably be purely a competition of one’s abilities as an idol.

Subaru: Ahaha, even with that I doubt I’d be able to win against Tenshouin-senpai or Sakuma-senpai, though~. ♪

If you can’t win against them, then nobody can.

Mao: Well, seeing that’s how it is—

I can’t really say anything for sure, given how shrouded in mystery this whole thing is, but… There’s actually a pretty huge benefit to us participating in 4piece, actually.

Subaru: Huh? What’s that?

[ ☆ ]

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#vs princess #event #translation #vs★princess #mao isara #subaru akehoshi

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 months ago

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Mike Luckovich

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 12, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 13, 2024

The 2024 election is shaping up to be bizarre on the Republican side. The party’s presidential nominee, former president Donald Trump, has largely stayed home and posted on social media while his vice presidential running mate J.D. Vance has been trying to cover the campaigning for the team. Indeed, Vance’s offer on Wednesday during a rally in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, to debate Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris suggests that Vance is not unwilling to be seen as the face, if not the leader, of the Republican ticket.

The actual presidential nominee appears even more unstable than usual, and it certainly appears that his handlers are trying to keep him off stage. As Tom Nichols of The Atlantic noted yesterday, “When Trump is on TV a lot, his approval goes down. When he’s in hiding and his surrogates are rearranging his bonkers crazypants word salads into something like real thoughts, his approval goes up.”

Observers, including Jackie Calmes of the Los Angeles Times, have been clear that “Donald Trump’s state of mind should be under debate.” “Trump’s fire hose of cray-cray has inured Americans to his outrages,” Calmes wrote today. “But now that President Biden, a normal and empathetic man, has been pushed out of the 2024 race over concerns about his age and mental acuity, Trump’s more manifest unfitness for office should be ignored no longer—by the media, former advisors and military leaders who remain silent and, yes, Republicans.”

Trump held a surprise “press conference” on Thursday, where, according to a team of reporters and editors at NPR, he misstated things, exaggerated, or lied outright at least 162 times in 64 minutes, a rate of more than two times a minute.

He said that the United States “is in the most dangerous position it’s ever been in from an economic standpoint,” and warned we could end up in another depression like the Great Depression of the 1930s. In fact, the economy is strong and growing at a faster rate than it did in three of the four years of Trump’s presidency.

He warned of a national crime wave although crime has been plummeting after a surge in 2020, during Trump’s term, and said that we are “very close to a world war,” which illustrates that Trump’s main lever to turn out voters is fear. With the successes of the Biden-Harris administration having neutralized the economic fears that worked in the past, and with the goals of antiabortion activists achieved in 2022 with the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision, Trump is apparently going for broke with the threat of World War III.

Altogether, the event did Trump no favors.

Poll numbers for Harris and her running mate Minnesota governor Tim Walz have climbed since President Joe Biden announced on July 21 he would not accept the Democratic nomination, and observers have reported that Trump’s anger is leading him into unforced errors, picking fights with allies and seemingly unable to let go of his focus on the lie that the 2020 election was stolen from him, a focus that his advisors warn is turning off voters.

Trump has repeatedly seemed to fantasize that Biden will return to the head of the Democratic ticket, and on Sunday, seemingly frantic about Harris’s huge rallies while he can no longer attract big crowds, released a rant accusing Vice President Harris of using AI to create fake footage showing large groups of supporters greeting her airplane. Faking crowds with AI is a technique we know Trump uses, but there is no evidence Harris does. Immediately, people who attended her events released their own videos proving the size of the crowds, and political pundits openly questioned Trump’s mental health.

Then, this morning, Trump posted on his social media channel: “I’m doing really well in the Presidential Race, leading in almost all of the REAL Polls, and this despite the Democrats unprecedentedly changing their Primary Winning Candidate, Sleepy Joe Biden, midstream.” He went on until his closing: “We are going to WIN BIG and take our Country back from the Radical Left Losers, Fascists, and Communists. We will, very quickly, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!” This afternoon, Five Thirty Eight showed Harris up 2.7 points in the national polling average.

Trump’s advisors are pleading with him to stop name-calling and to stay on message. His campaign began today to run ads on X that look like his tweets but are much more like standard political ads.

Tonight, X owner Elon Musk planned to “interview” Trump, although it seemed pretty clear the event was intended simply to be a long advertisement for him. European Union commissioner for Internal Market Thierry Breton wrote an open letter to Musk warning about E.U. laws against amplifying harmful content “that promotes hatred, disorder, incitement to violence, or certain instances of disinformation.” Breton warned that his team “will be extremely vigilant” about protecting “E.U. citizens from serious harm.” Musk responded with a meme that said: “TAKE A BIG STEP BACK AND LITERALLY, F*CK YOUR OWN FACE!”

Last month the European Union charged X with failing to respect its social media law by letting disinformation and illegal content run rampant. X faces fines of up to several million euros.

In the end, technical difficulties delayed the start of the X Spaces event. Instead, wrote BBC journalist Shayan Sardarizadeh, who specializes in exposing disinformation, a “deepfake livestream of the Trump-Musk interview” was playing “on a fake Tesla channel on YouTube, with 200,000 people watching.” Sardarizadeh noted that the channel was running a crypto scam, and YouTube finally suspended it. When the real X channel finally began to function, it showed Musk and Trump heaping praise on each other. But Trump was slurring his words, and when HuffPost White House journalist S.V. Dáte asked the campaign about his inability to articulate, it answered: “Must be your sh*tty hearing. Get your ears checked out.”

Trump went to Montana on Friday in support of Republican candidate Tim Sheehy, who is running to unseat popular Democrat Jon Tester, but otherwise has said he is not planning to hit the road until after the Democratic National Convention concludes next week, an odd lack of campaigning at this point in a presidential contest. He seems to be trying to regain control of the political narrative through tweets and social media. Today he said he is suing the government over the raid on Mar-a-Lago that recovered hundreds of classified national security documents, but this is almost certainly posturing to try to make him look strong: he would never be willing to undergo the discovery phase of such a lawsuit.

In the midst of Trump’s frenzy, J.D. Vance has been doing the usual appearances of a campaign, although, unable to generate rally crowds himself, he has been reduced to following Harris and Walz to theirs and trying to grab headlines there.

On Sunday he did the rounds of the morning talk shows, where on CNN he complained that Democrats are bullying him by calling the MAGA Republicans “weird.” Political journalist Brian Tyler Cohen promptly answered: “Crooked Hillary, Crazy Nancy Pelosi, Sleepy Joe, Coco Chow, Lyin Ted, Ron DeSanctimonious, Birdbrain Nikki Haley, Old Crow McConnell, Gavin Newscum, Pencil Neck Schiff, Pocahontas, Cryin Chuck, and Kamabla would all like a word.”

Republicans have made punching down a key part of their rhetoric since at least the 1980s, and Vance’s frustration that the tables have turned feels a bit as if someone is finally standing up to the schoolyard bully.

Outside of the MAGA frenzy, Harris and Walz last week held big, joyous rallies in the swing states of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Arizona, and Nevada, contrasting their happy campaign with the MAGA Republicans’ drumbeat of carnage and revenge. A cover article from Time magazine today by Charlotte Alter described the scene of one of her rallies as a mashup of a Beyoncé concert, Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour, and “the early days of Barack Obama”: “a kind of reception a Democratic presidential candidate hasn’t gotten in years. Fans packed into overflow spaces, waving homemade signs made of glitter and glue as drumlines roared. When Harris introduced her new running mate, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, the cheering lasted more than a minute.”

At the same time, the grave issues that are propelling the Democrats continue to gain traction. The Associated Press today reported that in the wake of the 2022 Dobbs decision, more than 100 pregnant women have been treated negligently or turned away from emergency rooms despite federal law. Two women, each of whom lost a fallopian tube to an undertreated ectopic pregnancy—one also lost 75% of one of her ovaries, and the other nearly bled to death—have asked the federal government to investigate whether the hospitals that sent them home to miscarry without medical assistance violated federal law.

On Saturday, Trump’s campaign said it had been hacked, after Politico reported that it had received communication from an account called “Robert” about internal Trump campaign documents. David Kurtz of Talking Points Memo put together a helpful timeline of the story today, explaining that on Sunday the Washington Post said it had also received some of that information and said it believed the information to be that referred to in an August 9 warning from Microsoft that Iran was engaged in an influence campaign. Today the New York Times also said it had received the information, and this afternoon the FBI said it is investigating attempted hacking against both the Trump-Vance and Harris-Walz campaigns.

CNN national security and justice reporter Zachary Cohen reported tonight that the hackers apparently were able to access the campaign by compromising the personal email account of Trump operative Roger Stone.

“Buckle up,” Chris Krebs, the former director of the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency, wrote on X. “Someone is running the 2016 playbook, expect continued efforts to stoke fires in society and go after election systems—95% votes on paper ballots is a strong resilience measure, combined with audits. But the chaos is the point….”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #heather cox richardson #Election 2024 #Chaos is the point #Trump senility #joyful Harris Campaign #political #democracy

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bingoboingobongo · 2 years ago

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task force 141 + favorite christmas movies

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: sorta did this already with ghost but now it’s time for the entire team

john "soap" mactavish:

what can i say soap is a home alone kinda guy

he fell in love with them as a kid and he just never fell out of love

it's that sorta violent but still comedic and overly dramatized kind of humor that soap likes

plus he's a sucker for montages and you know home alone has a bunch of them

he's a fan of the whole series too

but the first one is definitely his favorite, just because it's classic

definitely gets freaked out by the bird lady in the second one (i think it's the second one)

and yes he's always wanted a home alone situation whenever he was a kid

he would literally pray for a duo of goofy robbers to try and break in whenever his parents weren't home

of course it never worked

but you know

a man can dream

he also knows all the home alone lore

and he freaked out when he found out macaulay culkin was married to brenda song

kyle "gaz" garrick:

so this goes hand in hand with my christmas songs headcanon

but gaz's favorite christmas movie is the grinch (2018)

bc 1. it has a fire soundtrack

2. it's got great animation

and 3. beneficiary cumberbun as the grinch was unprecedentedly good

he also doesn't like the live action grinch

he watched it when he was younger and it really scared him

like im talking it really scared him

he saw it in a hotel while his family was visiting new york for christmas

and then he refused to sleep on the wall side of the bed because he was scared the grinch was gonna come from under the bed in that sorta shadowy area between the bed and the wall and steal him

and yes he still sleeps on the lamp side whenever he stays at hotels now

even though he's a grown man

so yeah the grinch (2018) was a very welcome change to that

i mean the animation is so bright and cheery

what's not to love

plus he really likes how fluffy the grinch looks

and yes he watched it in theatres with his family so there's a lot of good memories associated with that as well

simon "ghost" riley:

so kinda similar to gaz

but ghost's favorite christmas movie is actually how the grinch stole christmas (1966)

for those of y'all who aren't up to date on the grinch movie release timeline that's the cartoon one

gaz doesn't like that one because that smile the grinch does in the beginning (you know what i mean, it's the one where his cheeks literally like migrate to his ears) freaked him out

but ghost actually enjoys that scene

he says it scratches an itch

he also likes the 1966 grinch because it brings him back to simpler times

he first watched it in school right before winter break

and then he went home and made his mom watch it with him over and over and over again

and so now whenever he has the chance he'll watch during the holiday season

it does make him a little sad though

you know since his mom's dead

anyways

john price:

price's favorite movie is charlie brown's christmas

he's actually a pretty big fan of the peanuts

is that what they're called? idk

so it's only a no brainer that the charlie brown christmas special brings him a special kind of joy

before he used to watch it on cable on christmas day

and then he got apple tv+ so now he watches it to get in the mood

guys this isn't an ad for apple i swear

he likes to cozy up with a blanket, some nice socks (he's a sock guy what can i say), a cup of tea or hot cocoa, and some biscuits

sometimes he falls asleep before the end tho

but it's not like he's never seen it before so it's fine

yet despite his love for the peanuts he does not have a charlie brown christmas tree

no his tree is always freshly cut down and usually pretty hefty

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so this one also goes with my christmas music headcanons

but rudy's favorite christmas movie is the frozen franchise

and yes it's a holiday movie

he will fight you on that

in his mind snow + fire soundtrack = christmas movie

so yes goncharov would technically be a christmas movie by rudy's criteria

and yes he will fight you if you bring that up

he also really hates claymation

like really really hates it

it's too uncanny valley for him

like for it to be enjoyable it better be super duper obvious that the characters are clay

but even then it still catches him off guard

he also really likes christmas specials for like a bunch of shows

so after he's done with his frozen marathon he'll turn on his favorite shows and just watch the christmas episodes

and yes he does that for every holiday that has specials

alejandro vargas:

okay so potentially controversial opinion

but alejandro really enjoys hallmark movies

like it doesn't matter which one it is as long as it's a christmas hallmark movie he's down to watch it

he doesn't even know why like he's aware of how cheesy they are

but they've really mastered that feel good formula

even if each movie is riddled with plot holes

but even then that's also part of the fun too

like he enjoys inviting rudy or even the others over so they can poke fun at all the logistical impossibilities of the movie

and really that's what he likes when he watches the movies

the good memories he makes

ig it's true guys

the real lesson was the friends we made on the way

or whatever the saying is idk

he also likes the cheesy romance of it all

and also he doesn't tell anyone that he secretly enjoys the hallmark movies

with everyone else he pretends that it sucks

but he eats it up every time

and yes he always checks to see if the kiss happens at the same time

and so far it has almost every single time

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digitaloffshoot · 8 months ago

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on digital fankids

i don't have anything against fankids (they're fine!!! keep doing them!!!) but i want to say that if they actually really appeared in the real actual circus the implications would be.... well.. there's a couple reasons that digital fankids would be existentially horrifying...

where did they come from i know where fankids come from, it's not that i'm worried about; it's more that i'd be scared about where a fankid would source its personality from... caine designing the kids himself isn't great, but neither are any of the alternatives...

silence in the library if the fankids are created out of nothing and are perfect digital simulacra of people, there are two equally horrible possibilities... either their existence is unprecedentedly absurd, and they will suffer as much as any of the rest of us... or... their existence has a precedent: us... so either, more people are created just to suffer, or everyone was created to suffer, implanted with delusions of humanity, for no discernible reason... basically, fankids coming into existence would be a perfect barometer for the level of reality we currently exist on... great...

can we take them with us? treat your fankids with love! but what if you're trapped in a computer world of nightmares...? if we didn't reject the kids and instead cared for them, we would grow attached to them.. we're either just waiting out for the end in a tent at the edge of oblivion, or if we do escape (don't get me started), we would have to abandon them...! bad ending, both ways... i think maybe our existence is always just going to end in tragedy, no matter how you slice it...

anyway, i'd happily take care of any fankid who appeared to me, as long as they didn't do anything that scared me, like know all of my personal information or something... ick.. now i'm imagining a small creature lecturing me about every mistake i've ever made...

#me complaining #gangle the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #gangle #the digital circus #introject #osdd #fictive #text post

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aeneidjellyfish · 14 days ago

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Post traumatic Megatron disorder support group (2)

bunch of headcanons, very time consuming. At first i just want to write about transform addict but...（ '▿ ' ）

*tw: graphic descriptions of violence ,character death mentioned

————previously: Tarn met Starscream

The corridor was empty, and not a single mech could be seen. It was said to be Starscream's residence , but it was actually the same place as the office building. Tarn stared at the number "75" on the display screen of the teleporter without authority for a while, and then chose to spray a can of polish onto the wall. He could have blasted a few holes, but unfortunately now those two fusion canons of his right arm were removed.

Except for the star lights on the ceiling and the decorations of several F15 models of different colors, and the bright wall decorations, the rest of the things in Starscream' s room were simply arranged, as if no one was living here. He dug out stacks of work records and data pads from the cabinet, as well as some high - end polishes and bottles of energon wine. Tarn drank at least a whole bottle.

Starscream couldn ' t be more wrong. He didn't know Tarn at all. Even if have no grudges, still have a urge to destroy somthing. Maybe it's his occupational disease. Has already walked around on this floor, and the exit is the terrace in the compartment besides the elevator. Tarn thought about the possibility of turning into a tank and driving down the terrace for a while. He had not been back to Cybertron for a long time and he had no idea about the situation outside. So what if he could escape from Starscream? That aircraft even removed his communication module. There was no chance to contact the remnants of DJD, let alone the suppression collar on the pipeline and the Autobots who were said to be eyeing him. The polished wall was shiny and smooth, and he could see the blurred purple color on his face from the small patch of metallic luster.

Tarn put the mask back on, again. Not wanting to think about why Starscream gave him such a mask, he just put it on his face almost instinctively. Maybe it was to cover his scarred face, even though it had been seen by Starscream; maybe it was to cover the roar that was almost pouring out of the spark. He had experienced resurrection from the dead so many times that it became like a joke. Among them, because of Megatron, he put on a mask for the first time and transformed into an outstanding representative of the Decepticons, which can also be said to be the representative of the Decepticon leader. Everything he did was dedicated to Megatron. Cybertron doesn' t pay attention to any beliefs, but he automatically regards Megatron as his savior and regards the path shown by Megatron as his path. Tarn once questioned whether he was just being used as a convenient weapon by the Emperor of Destruction, but he realized that what he was doing made him recognized, made him feel unprecedentedly satisfied. From Damus to Glitch to the Warden of the GrindCore prison to the leader of DJD, his powers have been tested on from inorganic metals to Cybertronians one after another. One day, between the annihilation of sparks and visions, he suddenly had value, and the recognition of value comes from the mech he has admired for a long time. Can he find any better gift from fate than this.

Of course not, because now it seems that this is just an endless disaster that severely damages his life. Now that his race is finished, and the faith he should keep has been abandoned by "God", Tarn will not admit in his spark that the fight is over, it's will never end. The history of Cybertron is the history of war. The powers and characteristics that all Cybertronians are born with and far exceed those of most races are almost created for it. They fight each other out of instinct. Tarn's brain module's underlying program had suppressed a thought command for a long time. He was indeed used as a weapon and then simply abandoned. All the recognition, the chilling fame, the wails and pleas for mercy he had received before had become instruments of torture that in turn tortured him. Megatron gave Tarn a chance to live, but then destroyed him with his own hands, causing him to fall into reality riddled with wounds. The reality is that he is a stepping stone for his instinct to be exploited, and he has never had the opportunity to fight side by side with Megatron. The reality is that, all this, this so-called "great cause" that Tarn has dedicated to for millions of years, only needs a few words from the leader it's became Worthless, including him. You have been deceived, the subconscious told him that the slogan of the original uprising was a death knell for himself.

What about the price paid over those millions of years? The newly replaced transformation cog began to heat up unnaturally as the thoughts were running. Tarn doesn't know where he started to become addicted to transformation. Perhaps it was during the countless times when he hunted traitors from tank form and then transformed into human form to capture them. He liked to see mechs smaller than him being covered by tall shadows that suddenly transformed. Those visions only opened in shock for a moment before shattering into scattered pieces of glass, mixed in with the screams of the broken sounder. Often when he feels noisy, Tarn will turn back into a tank and fire directly at the fugitives' spark. Sometimes he will pick up the opponents and throw them into the smelting pool of Helias or the iron twister of Tesarus. When he is in the best mood Tarn would sing to traitors and let them commit suicide while watching fireworks.

Transform and killing are closely connected. The smell of circulating fluid and the temperature of engine oil act like accelerants, detonating a certain part of his brain module. Transform is a necessity for work, and it has also become a source of joy. Even though they are a harsh sanctioned division, every member needs some diversion. For example, Helias likes to make trinkets out of molten metal. When Vos is quiet, he may hang on a beam reading ancient books. Tesarus cares about his blades in stomach. Kaon has his fox pet, and Tarn is into transforming, it's all the same. The bearings operated quickly, the armors unfolded to place, and the tracks rotated to the ground. Being close to the ground made him feel that he was relieved of some kind of human form. The excitement brought by running on the road was equivalent to crushing a fugitive in half. Even if during transform process, difficult to clean the energy fluid, circulating fluid and other stains that have been splashed in the armor gaps, or he sometimes even hear a crack sound from a certain bearing. It's not worth mentioning in front of the sense of control that comes from harvesting lives, it's not worth mentioning in front of removing all obstacles in the way of Megatron.

His urge to transform grew stronger and stronger, almost becoming an obsessive-compulsive disorder. The rest of the members in the Peaceful Tyranny knew that Tarn had started again as long as they heard long and loud noise from the leader's cabin. Occasionally during the shift, they could see a tank driving past the not-so-wide aisle and reminding is there anyone not hand over report or not finish a health check. Until one day, the transformation process got stuck without warning. Only then did Tarn realize that his cog was burning around the soft metal groove like a fireball, with white smoke was rising. He wanted to manually move the parts to transform, but the pain from the cog transmission penetrated directly into his brain module. The pain in the neural circuits was unbearable, and it hurt even to move his arms. Fortunately, in the cabin, this desolate appearance will not be seen by others for the time being. Tarn had no choice but to contact Pharma, asking him to find a transformation cog and send it over by any means. While waiting, he hummed a song to distract himself and relieve some of the pain. He likes to sing, especially incorporating Megatron's famous quotes and verses into melodies. He has written 499,502 bars, and his favorite passage is "Towards Peace" with The Empyrean Suite. The funeral song for fugitives are usually this one, and Tarn hopes that these are the last words that can be recorded before those brain modules undergo cluster explosions and meltdowns.

Things are different now. Tarn didn't want to recall a single word of it.

The transformation cog start turning on it own without control - he transforms into a tank. He wants to completely delete all relevant memory files. The cog works again - he takes human form, he crushes the empty bottle of polish. Don't think about it. Working again - that's a traitor. Working again - he punches the doorframe open. Working again - it's hot in here but nowhere near the antimatter burn. Working again - the sea-green spark stung when the chest armor split open, it hurts even to the point of light. Working again - what was the sound of notes in bar 179043. Working again - What was the sound of Vos, Helias and Tesarus screaming. Working again - he thought, he thought of pulling out someone's head sculpt, chopping up the servos, using his claws to tear off the circulation line one by one, removing the armor, twisting off each circuit board, and taking the brain module apart piece by piece, sending it to the fuel room and tearing it off, stab all the ventilation fan blades into the vision. The most important, to insert the fusion cannon into the groove of the brain and pull the trigger - working again.

After an unknown amount of transform, the cog came to an end. The sound was very familiar to Tarn, only a slight click, he couldn't move. The pain signal made his hard drive, which was filled with looping garbage instructions, wake up a little. Error windows were already all over his visions. He glanced down from the gaps, feeling almost ridiculous. He became stuck again, three tracks of four did not change back. As a result, the upper half of his body could only be shrunk, and one arm and leg were still in the state of a car. Very shameful. Tarn tried to move to the inside of the room. He did not forget that this was not the Peaceful Tyranny. There would be no team members who turned a blind eye to his weird appearance. There would only be Starscream who was furious at the destruction he had caused while mocking his appearance wantonly.

Just wait. He closed windows one by one, what he was waiting for was not Pharma giving him a new transformation cog, but reliving the feeling of being humiliated a long time ago. What else could this mean to a lake that had dried up? The tank subconsciously hummed a song again, the pure melody of The Empyrean Suite. Years of professional experience did not allow him to relax, but he experienced an attack not long after he survived. The system with insufficient energon was difficult to maintain, and he had to enter hibernation with extreme reluctance.

The heavy strike to one side of the armor almost made Tarn jump up and grab the opponent's throat as a reflex. In reality, the track on his right side only bounced violently and he couldn't even stretch out his hand. The scrapped cog dutifully gave off a burnt smell. In the somewhat dim light, he faced Starscream's shining vision.

Starscream stared motionless for a few seconds, then kicked him again. "Huh, addicted to transformation, right? I don't have ready-made transformation cog here. Can't believe that you even mumbling something while you are sleeping. Thought you were a polite guest, I misjudged."

Tarn didn't reply. Starscream moved closer, and the two pairs of scarlet visions reflected each other. Being too short a distance gave him the uncomfortable feeling that the other person was trying to take off his mask.

Now look at this, there's nothing to hide anymore, is it?

"I'm actually very glad to see you like this. I wouldn't give you cogs if I had one." Starscream spoke again, he raised suddenly and waved his arms. "Rolling down my wall full of wheel marks. You deserve it."

Even if Tarn wanted to at least tear off a piece of wings of the aircraft that flapped twice, he couldn't move. "Then why don't you arrange for me to be where the fugitives should be? Does the kind Lord Starscream treat every prisoner like this? It seems that the rule of this place is over."

"It's not your turn to tell me how to rule." He saw the fiercely glaring aircraft rushing towards again. "Use your unburnt brain to think about the reason why they haven't gathered in my place yet to throw you - and maybe me as well - into prison."

"…They don't even know I'm not dead."

"Except me and Arachnid." Starscream snorted, circled around him and leaned against one side of table. "You're right about one thing, just think of me as a good person."

"Disgusting."

"I haven't said that you disgust me yet, still mumbling "Toward Peace" even after closing your vision. How ominous."

Turns out you know what is that. Tarn glanced at Starscream and found that the aircraft was not facing this way, but was staring at a certain point in the air. However, Starscream turned his head as soon as he felt Tarn's gaze. "What? When you were still reading that bad calligraphy, I had already watched several duels."

"If you ask me, don't be both a pioneer of ideas and a fighter. That bucket head was not good at either of these at all. Except for being an Autobot lackey. Of course I am much better than him. I am, at least better than him in every aspects. Thinking ten thousand steps ahead, fighting and killing on the battlefield." Starscream's dim vision seemed to be staring at him, but it didn't seem to be the case.

"You also know when to retreat and retreat." Tarn said this without any other meaning. Starscream knew what was best for him. Every Decepticon should know it, but only he did it the most thoroughly and decisively. He knew this when he saw Starscream driving and suddenly stretched out his null laser and shot at Megatron and was beaten, then knelt down and begged for mercy without hesitation.

Tarn actually doesn't understand Starscream either. Starscream believes in himself the most, no one he has ever tried to believe will end well. He was inspired by the indignation and ambition between those words and tried to integrate into it; he had days when he looked up to Megatron, but more than four million years of war could not have no impact on him. Starscream used more and more extreme methods to prove himself, but in return he was severely suppressed and suffered various failures. What is he proving, ownership of a position, a moment, or a gaze? The price of this everlasting struggle is immeasurable. His city was buried in gunpowder. Seekers could not form a few combat boxes. Circulating fluid and engine oil were often spilled in the corridors of the ship. Almost every part had been replaced , fixed Starscream is actually no longer the coldforged he was before, he gradually figured it out one thing. This is probably the biggest scam in the interstellar world. Peace does not come through tyranny, and peace does not belong to Cybertron at all. They are all mixed up in the mistakes of history and fighting against invisible things, with no results.

It's like Starscream followed Megatron up the stairs and reached the last step. He was eager to know what was behind the door. Megatron blocked him tightly and said, "You are not qualified." He was dragged away when he wanted to fly. Being grabbed the wing and threw down. He walked again, not following Megatron, because Megatron was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. This time the wing was ripped off, the next time one arm was broken off, the next time the sound generator was chopped off, and the next time the spark module was broken into half. When Starscream went online and looked at the familiar ceiling stripes of the medical department, a command was secretly running. He had deceived himself for too long, why he was still so enthusiastic about all this? It was clearly past the time when he could fly back and forth with excitement just hearing the words like "big plans and great undertakings".

But before Starscream could use the power he had earned to plan a dramatic way to tell Megatron, "You're wrong" , all of Cybertron knew something else: Bumblebee was dead, and Megatron surrendered to the Autobots.

Well, at least he could go to the door at the end of the stairs and see what was that.

A mirror, in the mirror is his nightmare, which runs through every single day and night for millions of years.

He can still often think of the temperature of the purple flash that cannot be erased charging in front of him.

Starscream was silent. Something was wrong. From Tarn's perspective, the seeker was looking back at him, but the focusing iris was completely absent. Tarn felt familiar with this state. Even though most of his abilities were suppressed, the abnormal vibration frequency of spark seemed familiar, glamorous Starscream was also trapped in something and unable to get out. At the beginning of being a team , the DJD members would occasionally fall into silence after completing a certain cleanse. On a whim, Tarn turned on the ship-wide communication broadcast and sang a few songs. In the next mission reports handed in, work efficiency improved 17% higher, so this small in-ship activity was preserved silently. Later, it was discovered that his voice record could easily extinguish the traitor's spark, which was an unexpected gain.

So Tarn now wanted to use the same method to silence the spark that is vibrating in an extremely disturbing way. After all, he still needed a transformation cog. Instead of The Empyrean Suite, he thought of another one.

After hearing the prelude, Starscream's trembling wings suddenly rose up, the reflection on the surface flickered over. He sang along for a moment, then stopped before the note got caught in the defective sounder. "You actually know this, haven't heard it for a long time." Tarn didn't want to tell Starscream for the time being that he had collected classical music data strips in his spare time, and among them was this minuet in the ancient Cybertronian language of Vos. The aircraft stood motionless for a while. In the middle of the song, he suddenly said that he would go to the technical department tomorrow.

And there are no uncertainties. The room fell silent again, melody flowing through it. Starscream knocked on the table and thought for a moment, gave him a charging berth connection device, then lay down on the berth.

You little glitch, am I an asmr player device? Tarn thought and opened a memory file to write down have a score to settle with Starscream. Then he also shut his vision, the ending faded out. For the first time he felt a little relief entering the darkness.

Thanks for reading this long stuff.😌 there are few ridiculous headcanons: Why is it an unexpected gain to discover that recordings are also effective? One day Tarn discovered that a vehicon was not paying attention during a meeting, used his powers to feel that vehicon was actually listening to his singing recording. Inspiration suddenly came to him, Tarn adjusted the audio and replaced the original file. The next day, he heard that several soldiers died mysteriously on the ship and said nothing, but only added to the battle damage report.

Voice is really a convenient thing. The holographic video opened, and it turned out to be a self-interfacing video of the DJD leader Tarn. Everyone was in a state of excitement and joy. At the end of the video, among the chaotic and confused processors, they could only hear Tarn saying "[Now dedicate your spark to me]". something came out, it was cerebrospinal fluid.

#idw tarn #idw starscream #transformers tarn #starscream #transformers #my writing

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communist-ojou-sama · 1 year ago

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In the spirit of actually explaining instead of just being snooty when I say that we need a clear definition of capitalism to critique it, I will give two examples of economies I don't think were capitalist, fascist Japan and medieval Venice, why I think they weren't, and what capitalism then means.

I said a lot of the first one last time, but to try to characterize the economy of fascist Japan more generally, it was an economy geared toward the needs of the military, which came to dominate every aspect of public life. The technologies of mechanization and measurement of production, and the deskilling of labour were there, as was, in practice, continuing proletarianization and alienation from their labour, so why wasn't it capitalist?

Because capitalism requires not just a drive for profit but an economic environment where firms are free to set their own prices, compete amongst one another (until a certain point lol) and pursue not just positive profits, but positive rate of profit: that is, more nominal profit every year. Moreover a capitalist society is one where one where absolute control over society is ceded over time to the capitalist class which weilds this power to extract further value from every area of society.

As I said yesterday, this does not, as far as I know, characterize the fascist Japanese economy. Instead control over civil society and the economy accrued over time to the military, which did then exploit every aspect of society, but toward the goal of militaristic expansion, not nominal profit. Meanwhile zaibatsu did of course rake handsome profits off the top of this arrangement, but they did so via fix-priced no-competition contracts with the military-run government, with the military holding the power of life and death over any individual firm. This is not a desirable economic system, but it is also not capitalism.

The counterpoint then is medieval Venice, a society highly driven by commerce and the profit motive and which as a result displayed ahead of time many of the social changes that would be brought about by capitalism. Within the bounds of the city we see greatly diminished importance placed on the social prestige of the nobility, and a nearly unprecedentedly secular and open society.

This economy was very heavily based on open markets and free-trade, and even displayed some early analogues to financialzation, even before the advent of the first bourses, and even an emphasis not just on profit but positive rate-of-profit, along side highly sophisticated advances in banking and accounting.

So why isn't medieval Venice capitalist? Well, because of the relations of production that brought about the goods it's merchants were trading. Yes, the Venetian traders traded in enormous volumes for the time and dealt in formidable sums of money but as far as finished goods were concerned, they were produced via arrangements with guilds over large geographical areas, and hence the sheer scale of goods being traded, but they were still goods that were being hand-made by artisans across the Mediterranean with no concept of productivity by the labor-hour, much less anything approaching mass-production. Capitalism requires mechanization, standardization, mass production, and technologies of measurement-of-production in order to actually be capitalism, and these technologies simply did not yet exist in medieval Venice.

I hope this helps to understand what I'm referring to when I talk about capitalism, and why I say that its fall, as a historically contingent mode of production, is inevitable

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prince-of-elsinore · 2 years ago

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Dear M*A*S*H: S1 Ep 01 “Pilot”

I want to talk about M*A*S*H. The 50-year-old show that, completely unexpectedly, has captured my heart and mind. I finished the series just over one week ago and had to force myself not to immediately begin a rewatch. Now that I’ve had a bit of time to process, though, I’m eager to dive and dig back in, to pick apart what makes this show tick and what made it resonate with me. I want to take my time this go-around (though I expect that will be difficult) and document my thoughts on episodes and characters as the show morphs and grows. I don’t know if I’ll make posts for every episode (that’s a lot) or how long I can keep this up tbh, and I make no promises as to the eloquence or deepness of all my reactions (sometimes you just wanna stare at Mike Farrell’s fuzzy chest amirite). But this show left my brain buzzing with how much there is to talk about and, well, it’s my blog, so here goes.

Korea, 1950: a hundred years ago

What a line to open on. When the show first aired in 1972, it was only 22 years ago. But maybe for audiences jaded by 7 years of direct American entanglement in Vietnam, the first war with moving images broadcast directly into living rooms across the nation, swiftly drawing to an embarrassing and disastrous conclusion, this other war did seem like a hundred years ago. That other, “lesser” war sandwiched between the heroically fought Second World War and the unprecedentedly divisive living nightmare of Vietnam. The supertitle is a simultaneous reminder to the audience of a conflict not often discussed around dinner tables, despite its relative recency (almost as recent to them then as the Iraq War is to us now), and an acknowledgment of how very, very distant it feels. What fascinates me most is how it positions the story we’re about to see as a fable of sorts from a distant time and place, presaging--somewhat paradoxically--the show’s perpetual relevance. This is Korea. It is also every war.

Then, the rest of the cold open. Visual storytelling at its finest! In a brief series of images we glean not only a sense of who our major players are at their cores, but also the notion that at the 4077, not all is as it seems. Two men in Hawaiian shirts playing golf: a familiar sight, until--kaboom, the ball lands in a minefield. A surgeon and nurse work over an unseen patient--oh, no, it’s a bottle of champagne. A man and woman in uniform studiously read a Bible and medical manual--while playing footsie under the table. So, Hawkeye and Trapper are the happy-go-lucky types who don’t see being in a war zone as any reason not to get their kicks where they can; Henry may appear official on the outside (though as we’ll soon see, rarely even that) but really he’s concerned with having a good time with a nurse (it strikes me this could also be an appropriate establishing situation for our two leads, but it’s even more fitting for Henry who is consistently negligent in his duties as Commanding Officer for the sake of sensual indulgence); and Margaret and Frank put on a hypocritical show of military and Christian officiousness while succumbing to their baser desires like anyone else.

Perhaps the implied injunction to look beneath the surface is nothing more than a promise to audiences of what kind of comedy the show will deliver. Perhaps it’s a commentary on the absurdity of life in wartime and under military jurisdiction (people will be people, no matter how many rule books you throw at them). I doubt the show intended this at the time, but I also see an early indication of the ethos that will come to permeate the series: that the truth--and often, our shared humanity--is found in looking closer, not making snap judgments based on superficial features. In any case, this much is clear: your expectations will be subverted. What is familiar becomes foreign, what’s foreign is familiar. It’s a topsy-turvy world. That’s the oldest root of comedy; it’s also war.

“Par is a live patient”

We get Hawkeye’s first “Dear Dad” over our first O.R. scene, conveniently filling us in on the what and why of the 4077 and meatball surgery. It’s also a thesis statement of sorts. They’re there to save lives, not for glory or to be pretty or precious about their work. Life: the number one concern of a doctor, and the number one thing that war takes away. In some ways, a doctor in a war zone is a paradox. This will be Hawkeye’s struggle straight through to the end of the series. He’s more needed here than he could be at any General Practice or stateside hospital, but what the hell is he doing here? He keeps fixing bodies--just enough to keep them clinging to life--only for the war and the army he works for to keep breaking them.

Back at the Swamp, Hawkeye voices a sentiment we’ll often hear repeated over the 11 seasons to come: invite the North and South to a cocktail party. Last one standing wins the war. Here, it’s a throwaway joke, but as we’ll come to see, the tragedy of Hawkeye Pierce is that he simply cannot grasp, cannot accept, how human beings, given the chance to just talk to one another, cannot come to an understanding, or at least an agreement, and settle their differences without resorting to killing.

All right, on to Lieutenant Dish. The scheme to auction off a nurse, even for the good cause of sending Ho-Jon to college in the States, is cringe-inducing today, as is the awkward montage of Hawkeye’s dogged pursuit of the lieutenant. The show’s misogyny, especially in its early seasons, is by far the hardest aspect for me to stomach. If, however, you take what is shown at face-value, as intended, there’s no harm, no foul here. The Dish-Hawkeye dynamic walks a thin line. Yes, she rejects him over and over and he ignores her over and over. Yet, even as she claims to be saving herself for her fiance, Dish seems indulgent towards Hawkeye, and later at the party even flirtatious. So, she enjoys the attention. Convenient and typical of an attractive woman written by and for men. At the same time, it doesn’t take any stretch of imagination to see that flirtation and sex are some of the only outlets available to the women of the camp, and that they could enjoy it just as much as the men.

I do want to know what the hell the plan was with the raffle of the weekend passes. Father Mulcahy winning is simply too convenient. (Incidentally, I feel robbed of seeing William Christopher react to his name being drawn. I’m looking forward to more familiar faces rounding out the supporting cast.)

The party scene also provides the stark juxtaposition of revelry and Hawkeye dancing cheek-to-cheek with his conquest with the sobering reality of their purpose, the raison d’être of the whole camp. To his credit, Hawkeye looks appropriately grave as he informs Margaret that they’ll be operating on a fresh batch of wounded within hours. While the 4077 dances and drinks, Canadian troops are fighting and dying not far off. Not only is this the linchpin of the episode, the get-out-of-jail-free card for Hawkeye and Trapper after all their shenanigans behind Henry’s back, but also a stamp of credibility for so much of the show. How on earth can these clowns get away these schemes, in the army, of all places? Because they are indispensable. Not only are they surgeons, they are the best at what they do. And once again the hypocrisy of army rules and regulations reveals itself; if everything were done by the book, to the letter, the army would cease to function. It would regulate and court martial itself into obsolescence. (Though, as is pointed out more than once in later episodes, would that really be a bad thing?)

Okay, some more thoughts, now as bullet points so I can wrap this up:

I’m watching without the laugh track, and boy is its absence obvious here in a way it never is later on. The pacing is off, much of the comedy wooden. Still, I prefer this subdued, awkward version of the show to the one with the incongruous canned audience. I think watching it this way allowed me to see so much more.

We get a “Come on, Mary” from Hawkeye to Trapper in the first six minutes! And they facetiously, effeminately point their noses in the air in unison as they walk away from Frank. They’re so in sync straight from the start and I love to see it.

I’m so glad the show left these awkward montages and flashbacks (Hawkeye with Dish, Margaret with General Hammond) behind.

Margaret’s limp hair and awful bangs make me sad.

I forgot The Still (tm) is not with us from the start! I assume they build it after Frank breaks their rudimentary barrel gin mill.

Oh, the bucket hat. Odd that it stays with us in the opening credits for the entire series run, when it feels so odd to see Hawkeye wearing it.

Radar is a surprisingly smooth operator here, even devious. He’s no dummy but it’s odd seeing him like this before he became more the wide-eyed innocent kid.

What is the true origin of “Hot Lips”?? Hawkeye calls her that seemingly off the cuff, and her reaction makes it seem like it’s a new nickname. Then Hammond shows up and calls her the same thing. Is this simply a case of Impossible Coincidence Played for Comedy?

I don’t think I got it the first time around that Margaret recognizes the gauze-covered Frank by his butt when she goes to give him the injection. One of the better jokes of the episode imo.

I listened to the Mashcast podcast for the episode and they were puzzled by the use of Japanese covers of popular songs. I assume that this was because Japan was so firmly established as a base of US military operations, a place every G.I. would pass through on their way to Korea, and where they would hope to go for R&R. I assume (but have not done research to confirm) that radio stations they might get would play Japanese tunes like this. The Japanese cover of “Happy Days,” for instance, seems like a nostalgic choice for US servicemen of the era.

Biggest laugh for me: Such a simple moment, but when Hawkeye and Trapper come into Henry’s office and shake hands with a “How are you, Henry?” and he responds, a little wary and knowing, a little sad-sack, “That’s not what you guys came to ask. I mean, the last thing you wanna know when you ask ‘how are you’ is how am I.” God, I really love Henry.

Parting thoughts: In retrospect, the pilot does a better job than I would’ve suspected in setting up not only the characters but also the lasting themes of the show, even while striking a tone a world away from what the show would become. Not a particularly good or funny episode, but it’s rewarding to rewatch and see the pebble drop into the pool, sending out the rings that will reverberate far into the future.

#mash #mash meta #m*a*s*h #mash 1x01 #mash pilot #dear mash #my meta

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oscarpiastriwdc · 1 year ago

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the little landoscar in standing at your door gave me life and the fact that in your mind its canon that lando is a misdiagnosed carrier as well and oscar is too blind with fondness to notice he got him pregnant is just way too funny to me—it’s so them. also oscar’s mum taking one like at lando and going “buy a pregnancy test�� takes me out. would love if you actually wrote a little story about it but in the end it’s totally up to you hihi.

also love the single dad charles idea, it’s so hilarious

A tiny snippet of unknowingly pregnant Lando spending the holidays with Oscar's family:

Lando has met Oscar's family before, at races and random McLaren events, but spending the holidays with Oscar's family in Australia is different. Bigger.

It's been an exhausting season. The last two months are a painful blur of jet lag and physical exhaustion and muscle aches and getting unprecedentedly weepy every time he or Oscar are on the podium. Oscar's dad picks them up from the airport, claps Lando on the shoulder and wraps his son in a bear hug that makes Lando coo and Oscar blush. He falls asleep in the backseat of the pickup truck, lulled into a drowsy state by the motion of the vehicle and Oscar's gentle voice telling his dad about the final race.

When they arrive at the house it's just past noon in Melbourne but it's the middle of the night in Monaco; Lando doesn't even manage to greet the rest of Oscar's family before he's out cold.

Lando wakes up a few hours later to an empty bed, disoriented by his surroundings. It's still light outside, and the sun streaming through the window highlights Piastri family photos on the wall. He grins at one of Oscar and his sisters at the zoo, posing like flamingos.

He follows the sound of voices downstairs where he's met with Oscar sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter talking to his mom who's posted at the stovetop.

"Oh hi Lando, dear! How did you sleep?"

"Hi Nicole." Lando steps around the counter into Oscar's mom's open arms pulling him into a hug. "That mattress is amazing."

"How was the flight? I bet you're feeling hungry."

Oscar snorts, makes room at the counter for Lando to join him. "Mum, you don't need to baby us."

"Yes I do, I don't care how fast you drive those cars, while you're under my roof you're still my baby. Oscar told me you don't like fish but you do like chicken tenders, so I made sure to pick some up at the grocery store. I'll pop some in the oven, how's that?"

"That sounds good, thank you."

"Of course, dear." Oscar's mom sets to preheating the oven, removing the frozen chicken tenders from the freezer, and arranging them on a tray while she asks Lando about Quadrant and his parents and plans for the rest of the holidays. The chicken tenders go in the oven and, soon, the kitchen is filled with the scent.

Lando's stomach turns. He must make a face because Oscar turns to look at him.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just jet lag."

Oscar's mom glances at them before removing the tray from the oven. Lando catches another whiff of the chicken and gags the way he only ever does when faced with fish. Oscar rubs a hand up and down Lando's back, soothing him.

The tenders get plated and slid across the counter. Lando picks one up, aware of the way Oscar's mom scrutinizes him, and nibbles a bite out. He has to force himself not to spit the food out.

"Have you been having unprotected sex?"

At that question, Lando does spit out his food while Oscar turns bright red.

"Mum!"

Oscar's mom tuts. "Calm down, Oscar. I'm going to run to the pharmacy, I'll be back in half an hour. Your sisters should be around if you need anything." With that, she promptly exits the kitchen, fetches her purse, and heads out the front door.

"What was that all about, Osc?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Well she's your mum, isn't she?"

Oscar and Lando bicker for a minute before they're distracted again, resulting in an impromptu make-out session on Oscar's parent's couch. They break apart and shuffle to opposite sides of the couch when Oscar hears the front door opening and pushes himself off Lando.

Oscar's mom marches in and sets a box down on the coffee table. Lando leans in to inspect. It's a pregnancy test.

"There's no way Oscar's pregnant, he never tops–"

Oscar throws his hand over Lando's mouth. "Please don't talk about this in front of my mum. And I don't think it's for me."

"Is it for one of your sisters?"

The room is silent while Oscar and his mom stare at Lando with mirrored, unblinking expressions. A minute later, Lando connects the dots.

"Oh. Oh shit."

#HI ANON this came to me in one burst i don't know if it's any good but i hope you like #standing at your door

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sylvia-forest · 2 years ago

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[CN] Shaw's 5th Anniversary Event - Prologue

⚡ Warning: This post contains detailed spoiler's for an Event which hasn't released in EN yet!⚡

[This was translated with the help of Google translate and by my friend!]

✧[Prologue]✧

Staff: Goodbye boss~

MC: Goodbye, everyone has worked hard today~

I said goodbye to the staff with a smile, picked up my bag and walked out of the studio. Then my eyes bumped into the familiar figure at the door.

MC: ……

- I gasped when I saw that eye-catching blue-purple hair. I snorted, and stepped to the side, ready to leave through the small door— —

Staff: Isn't this classmate Shaw? Waiting for the boss?

Shaw: Well, what about her?

Staff: I just greeted her when she came out, strange, …

Staff: Oh, there you are! Boss, your classmate Shaw is here to pick you up again!

As soon as the voice fell, I felt a sharp gaze piercing my neck, and I turned around subconsciously.

His eyes were still locked on me, forcing me to come slowly over.

The employee smiled and said goodbye to both of us, only Shaw and I were left standing at the door, my gaze was wandering, only staring at his collarbone, not daring to look up at all.

MC: Cough, I went out with my head down and didn't notice you coming….

Shaw [mockingly]: Is that so?

Shaw: So, now that you see it, can you go now?

MC: Hey I haven't— —

Without waiting for me to finish, Shaw's arm went forward and grabbed my hand and walked towards the door.

He might have just finished a can of Coke, and his palms were still damp from the aluminum cans condensation, as cold as his voice.

I didn't want him to succeed so quickly, I struggled lightly, and he angrily clasped my fingers so tightly that there was almost a pain coming from the knuckles.

At this moment, the wetness of his palm, contrary to his usual touch, and the strength of his grip, as if as a punishment, brewed an indescribable anxiety in me.

- If only I hadn't fought with Shaw at that time.

This was the only phrase that remains in my mind.

In fact, I can't remember the reason why I was angry with him in the first place, except that every time I tried to reconcile, other unpleasant things came up.

Now that it led us to both be unconvinced, none of us would want to be the one to lower their heads.

But he came to pick me up today.... Does that mean he wants to be subdued?

In that case, I, as a working adult, should not be angry with a college student for so long ...... really not very mature!

As we walked, I peeked at Shaw, wondering how to ease the atmosphere between the two parties, when his eyes suddenly dropped and met my gaze towards him.

Shaw [gasp]: ……!

Shaw: Next week….

MC: What did you say?

Shaw [nervously]: I said that recently there is an event called... cough, "World of Love", free up your time and go with me.

MC: Sure, when?

Shaw: Next week. This week I'm going to a study meeting with the department in a neighboring city.

Shaw paused, and added another sentence unprecedentedly.

Shaw: I didn't really want to go, but Mr. Shen said it was inappropriate for the winner of the Cultural Heritage Award not to go, so that's why I'm going ...... Anyway, I will definitely come back before the event starts.

MC: Well, it's okay, we can meet at the entrance of the event, I don't mind.

Shaw: ……

As soon as Shaw's footsteps stopped, his face darkened.

Shaw: Hey, how much longer do you want to make a face with me like this?

Who put on a bad face first? I wanted to settle an old score with him again because of his impulsive tone, but finally I just resisted and grinded my teeth.

MC: Hehe, it won't be long, it will last for another week or so.

Shaw: You! ...... You can do it.

He seemed to have thought of something and raised a finger towards me.

Shaw: Let's make a bet that you'll be smiling the whole time you're at the event, and I'll take credit for every time you smile.

MC: Let’s bet…wait no, this isn’t fair, why are you the only one catching my flaws, why don’t you show some of them instead?”

Shaw: What do you want to see me say?

MC: Then record the number of times you admitted defeat, every time you admit defeat, I'll record it, how about that?

Shaw raised his eyebrows, obviously inspired by my "fighting spirit"

Shaw: Okay, final settlement?

MC: Of course, the settlement will be finalized, so just don't refuse to accept the account when the time comes.

We stared at each other, and Shaw's face finally showed the expression he had been wearing for the past few days, except for his anger, and the corners of his mouth grinned.

Shaw: You.Are.Done.

—

⚡Next part (coming soon)

#the game is on😎#this is the first time that these two having a cold war although they're always bickering with each other—#but still this whole cold war arc will unveil many exciting moments that you'll be simping hard for🥹#mlqc spoilers #mlqc cn #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc translations #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #love and producer

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elenagr · 1 year ago

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(Fanfic) After the threat

@tolkienfamilyweek The news spread quickly throughout Tirion. Anaire already had a rough idea of what happened in the palace of King Finwe. She was working in the garden with her youngest son when Findekano and Turukano arrived. Findekano was having a difficult conversation with his older cousin. Turukano gave details of the aborted Council, adding that Nolofinwe went to his younger brother.

“Almost killed”… It sounded wild in peaceful Aman. It’s like something from the old days, when the Quendi lived in distant Endor. Anaire could not find a place for herself.

The hour of the Mixing of Light had passed when she finally heard the creak of the gate. Nolofinwe has arrived. He was calm, as if nothing had happened, and smiled…

- Darling! - she literally hung on him, not wanting to let go. It didn't escape her gaze that his tunic was slit in the heart area.

“It’s okay, melda, don’t worry,” he took his wife in his arms. So they stood, enveloped in the soft silver light of Telperion. Blue flowers looked at them with their kind eyes.

Anaire felt that someone’s overly fiery, unkind gaze was watching them from behind the fence. The glance flashed and disappeared. Did her imagine it or not? It doesn't matter now. The only important thing is that she and her husband are together; this state is akin to flying. All fears disappeared for a while. She always felt this, being in the power of the strong hands of her husband.

Then she excitedly kissed the cut on his chest. At his younger brother’s house they had already smeared him with some medicine. The elf felt bitterness on her lips, not yet knowing that this was the taste of future changes.

“It’s okay,” Nolofinwe said, “I will do everything I can to protect you, the children, our people.”

This is where he let it slip. “I’ll do my best,” it turns out, even he is not completely confident. Only from such small details, random slips, did she guess the feelings he was hiding.

“I am summoned to the court of the Valar,” Nolofinwe said a few days later. Anaire's heart sank: what will happen now? That’s how she felt: the story of the failed Council would not end just like that. Almost all of Tirion was ready to testify in favor of Nolofinwe. He, however, did not want to escalate the conflict. He said that only those ordered to appear. Anaire wished to go with her husband. Indis joined them: she said that she had not seen Ingwe for a long time. “My dear ones, we will travel together, but I ask you not to attend the trial,” he said. She nevertheless begged permission to be at the trial - she wanted to support him at least morally, with her presence alone.

- Don't worry. They won't imprison me in Mandos forever. Even Melkor came out and is sowing confusion,” Nolofinwe grinned. …They rode with him together on a white horse. At the trial, Nolofinwe behaved with dignity and did not testify against his brother. And when he declared his readiness to forgive Feanaro, Telperion and Laurelin flashed with an unusual, unprecedentedly soft pearl light. It was as if the Trees rejoiced at his words and illuminated his hair so beautifully.

…When they were driving back, Nolofinwe was saddened - he did not want his brother to be convicted. And soon Finwe also left for his eldest son. Nolofinwe bore the brunt of responsibility for the Noldor. He was constantly busy, and his wife almost stopped seeing him, as well as her sons who helped him. Irisse missed hunting with her cousins. Nolofinwe refused security. He asked Anaire not to go alone outside the city. And she loved to walk by the sea so much! He tried to find time and give her such walks. But his wife saw how tired he was and said that she did not want to go to the sea. He felt that this was not so, and asked Arafinwe and his wife, who often walked along the shore, to take her with them sometimes. During this period, Anaire became close friends with Earwen. Everything should have ended not even in twelve years, but earlier. Nolofinwe was again summoned to Manwe. Was hoped that the conflict would be forgotten. But instead of ending the troubles, that dark day brought a huge tragedy.

#tolkienfamilyweek #fingolfin #silmarillion #tolkien #nolofinwe

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youcouldstartacult · 1 year ago

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do you think for tour it’s going to be bad with people like throwing things on stage or being rough in the pit? i was just at music midtown and the standing area was so uncomfortable i’m anxious bc my niall tickets are standing as well and now i wish i just got a seat. part of me thinks that niall’s shows just aren’t going to be that vibe though?? not in a bad way i just don’t know if they’ll be so crazy as a music festival or past concerts i’ve been too. but this tour is so much bigger than flicker tour so i have no idea now :/ like no reference point i guess… sorry for the rant bestie 🥺 love your page!

omg don’t be sorry ♡

i’ll just be honest with you, i would expect people being very excited, especially in the pit. if you remember during the whole travis scott astroworld controversy, a video of niall stopping the show because people were pushing went viral and it was something he said a lot during flicker world tour because people were pushing. so i 100% understand being anxious! it’s why i don’t do standing at shows! but i really do believe that if something even seems to be unsafe at any show, niall (or at least someone in security) will put a stop to it. he and his team take fan safety really seriously, almost unprecedentedly so- like take the toronto pop up from earlier this year, he did stop the show because people were pushing too much- so if you were going to be in the pit for any artist, i would put niall up there as one of the best. and i really don’t know how to express this without it seeming like i’m being biased but i’m just going based off his actions and what people have said while being at his shows.

prioritize how you feel, if you don’t think you’ll enjoy the show from the pit, i would try and buy a seat, and i’m sure someone will buy your standing ticket! or maybe you can do a swap with someone! but i think you’re going to be just fine :) and anyways, you don’t have to be right pressed against the barricade or smushed in between a bunch of people, being at the back in standing is sometimes the best because you’ll still have a great view and room to dance and sit on the floor!!! also make friends with the people in line if you feel like it because they will most likely be close to you during the show and you can all look out for each other.

#sorry if this is longer than you expected!#but i think it’s important to share!#in case anyone else has similar feelings #niall horan #🧋

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years ago

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Of Hazardous Materials and the Irrelevance of Luck

Summary: Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it. Olly has walked on that thin wire many times in the past, but somehow his good luck seems more of a curse than a blessing in disguise.

[Olly's medical trauma is always "fun" to explore, especially if it has to do with what Sulu Ra did to him. This idea stemmed from a conversation between a few people in regards to headcanon clone heights, the fact the gene therapy Olly was subjected to altered his body substantially, and what would happen if he underwent further tampering with.]

Rhythm and Red Alert are @lost-on-kamino 's clone ocs. Nocte is @purgetrooperfox 's clone oc.

THIS STORY IS NOW ON AO3

---

The annoying part about all of this, is that the cot Olly is laying on creaks loudly beneath him anytime he moves. And not in that subtle whispering manner that most medical cots will do after losing their newness to a handful of patients. Rather, it practically groans in a fashion similar to that of the dying squeals of a battered and frightened hog. Desperate and begging for both relief and to be spared.

A great majority of the Coruscant Guard's medbay gear is rather old and worn out (from cots and heavy machinery, to cabinets barely clinging to the walls they were affixed to).

The equipment they "own" is older than them by two decades. Salvaged from medical facilities that had undergone extensive refurbishing in the last couple of years, during expensive and flashy electoral campaigns that promised to bring change to the underbelly of Coruscant. The kind of gum flapping that evaded memory after the elections were done and dealt with.

Its scuffed and scratched, chipping and creaky, held together by duct tape and whatever materials they can cook up into makeshift caulk in the supply closet. The same one that holds the Guard's distillery where they make their own home-brewed rotgut.

The Coruscant Guard works with what it has at hand.

Be it the many derelict and long-abandoned buildings that had been repurposed into the various barracks dotted across the many layered levels of the city planet; the recovery of junked crockery with which they could create culinary concoctions they had taught themselves to make, whenever rations were cut to lesser portions and the acquisition of ingredients presented itself as opportune; or even the various means by which many of the Guardsmen had turned to to make a quick credit, for the purpose of buying medication to supply their medbay with.

They are in a sense, self sufficient. Vode in a fixer-upper stationing. The lowest of the low in the eyes of others. Survivors without praise.

Olly grunts as he tries to get comfortable on the too stiff medical cot. The sounds it makes when he so much as shifts his weight onto his side, makes him think it might finally give up the ghost and just crumple into a heap. It doesn't, of course, but the creaking is a loud and irritating backdrop to his current predicament.

A couple of days ago a squad of riot troopers that he had been leading, had ended up caught in a warehouse collapse during what should have been a routine mission. The warehouse in question had been used as a base of operations for some wannabe homegrown bio-terrorist, and the number of unknown chemicals and agents that had been spilled and disturbed during the collapse was certainly worrying. Especially when the boys in haz-suits came out to dig him and his troopers out of the debris.

The most spectacular part was that, for once, there were no casualties to report.

The entire squad had lived through the collapse, which was an unprecedentedly lucky occurrence that somehow hadn't sat well with Olly in the slightest.

He should be glad that none of the young turtles he'd been helping coordinate had gotten seriously hurt or killed. But something deep down in his very core just told him to be wary. Even if he didn't quite understand why.

Well, it had turned out that he was right to be suspicious of the bout of good fortune...

The Guard medics had their hands full with whatever this turned out to be. This unknown ailment without a rhyme or reason to it.

Olly wasn't super close to any of them (he was still learning the names of most of them anyway). And, even if Rhythm had managed to get him to go to the medbay for his PT sessions with Remedy, he wasn't entirely familiar with the medical personnel and their usual demeanor.

Even so, he could tell his fellow vode in red weren't taking this too well. And not without good reason.

Some rather strange symptoms had cropped up a couple of days after the warehouse collapse the turtle squad had been caught in. Symptoms that Olly had initially ignored because they weren't too dissimilar from his usual aches and pains he already endured on a regular basis.

A rather persistent throbbing feeling in the legs (more specifically on the front of the thighs, the calves and behind the knees). Abdominal pain that surged like a stomach ache or heartburn. Headaches and migraines that made resting an agony. Toothaches that made eating difficult. And sometimes inner-ear pain that affected his balance to the point he couldn't really get up without the threat of falling over.

None of that compared to the back pain, but it compounded the effects it had on his mood. How disagreeable he could get if he wasn't entirely 100%. Olly was often lucky that these aches and pains often struck him in the late afternoon or early evening, and that they subsequently disappeared by morning. But sometimes there were bad days where it just wouldn't go away...

So imagine his surprise (and horror) when his squad began to complain of similar instances of his condition. Something had most definitely gone wrong.

Of course, as procedure mandated, Olly and the others had been thoroughly scrubbed and hosed down after rescue, and then quarantined for a period of 48 hours while under observation. Just in case the chemicals they'd been exposed to, turned out to be more than just base components for whatever the nutjob they'd sent to prison had been cooking up in there.

As a general rule of thumb, you didn't take chances with bio-terrorism and bio-hazardous materials. Good troopers either followed the correct protocol, or they suffered the consequences of their bullheadedness accordingly.

In this case however, they had indeed followed the protocol to a T and somehow they still ended up in a bad way. Nothing major had cropped up in the first, second and third day, so they had just assumed everyone was in good health. No one had considered the possibility of it being a sickness of a latent nature...

Remedy and Nocte were trying everything in their power to figure out just what exactly was causing their bizarre symptoms. Trying to single out what sort of strange strain of bacteria, virus, compound or whatever, might be behind the alterations in their bodies, in the hopes that maybe it could be stopped and reversed.

They were a two man team, but also the only medics that could honestly be spared right now. The other medics would have to focus on the influx of troopers that always ended up in their care during the dreaded Coruscanti flu season.

Thus far the only promising results came from the blood tests that had been run on every single trooper showing visible symptoms of the mystery ailment. It didn't look good. Or at least not for the rest of Olly's squad...

"I'm not exactly sure how, but whatever it is that you all were exposed to back in the warehouse, is reacting differently inside of you..." Nocte confessed as he showed Olly the datapad he'd been carrying with him. "The others show the same abnormal levels of HGH. That's to say, all of your pituitary glands are being forced to produce growth hormones at an elevated rate, which is causing unusual growth in the others... But not in your case."

Olly swallowed thickly around the lump forming in his throat as he processed this information. The terms were ones he was intimately familiar with from his time sequestered in Sulu Ra's private laboratory. The most layman way to say it being that he was under-growing another bout of growth spurts. Almost in the same manner as when he'd been put through the gene therapy that had ended up causing him so much hassle on a daily basis.

Only this time he wasn't strapped to some medical table and being injected with liquid fire, while the mad cloner of Kamino watched on in fascination. And this time he wasn't the only one. He was just the guy that had already experienced something similar (and as such had a better chance to survive it that everyone else).

"The others?" He opted to ask, finding to his dissatisfaction that he sounded weak and scared. He was usually good at hiding what he was feeling, but right now he couldn't really bring himself to be anything but pathetically afraid.

Nocte's frown said it all before he even responded.

"Remedy and I are... Trying to keep them comfortable..." The sadness in the medic's eyes bothered Olly enough that he couldn't help look away. "Your body is reacting almost positively to the hormonal imbalance. You're aching all over, have an appetite on you, and have been a little less amicable than usual... Which is honestly what one would expect of someone going through a second puberty of sorts..."

Nocte paused to massage the back of his own neck and to shift his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed to be trying his best to keep things relatively under control, but he seemed to be struggling with finding words that didn't feel overly clinical and impersonal.

The medics could often distance themselves from the patients when they were working. But this was one of those cases where the impartial act really didn't cut it. Vode were dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"The others are... It's not an even growth for them. It's reacting more like... Like a very aggressive cancer..." He didn't seem happy to use that word, but it was the closest he could probably find to match what he and Remedy had seen in the others. "Their entire bodies are getting covered in tumorous growths. Inside and out... And it's... It's painful for them, and they're not very likely to survive."

His squad wasn't going to make it. They just didn't have the equipment or resources necessary to save them.

Olly closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing under control.

"I'm really sorry Olly... I really wish I had a better answer to give you." Nocte sighed sadly, sounding just as defeated as the large riot trooper himself felt. "Remedy isn't too happy about just letting them go either. But at this point trying to reduce their pain is the best we can do..."

So long as the boys weren't in pain... That was all he could really ask from the medics.

"And we'll also be keeping you under observation for a little while longer." Nocte added. "Even if you're not mutating out of control like they are, you could still deteriorate if we're not careful..."

The cot creaked loudly as he turned so that his back would face the medic. The sound didn't bother him as much as the awful truth he'd just heard. It was still very annoying however, but it hopefully got the message across.

He wanted to be left alone. Just for a little while.

"You should get fitted for Phase II armour." Rhythm suggested as he stood on a chair, measuring tape in hand while he balanced himself on his very tippy toes.

It had been a week since he'd been confined to the medbay, and a day since he'd finally been allowed to return to the barracks.

It was a hollow feeling, as he noted the empty space his squad used to occupy. They had all passed away peacefully in their sleep thanks to the combined efforts of the medics. But the reason behind their passing still left him feeling angry and disgusted.

He'd been lucky. He hated being lucky.

He also hated having to be measured to have his gear readjusted to properly fit his frame. A frame that was no longer within average human parameters.

"8'3"... Damn..." Red Alert whistled as he stared at the tape in astonishment. He had the decency to look apologetic when he got a glare for his troubles.

"We're going to need to get you a bigger mattress..." Rhythm scratched his chin as he looked around the barracks for where they could even put a new mattress to begin with. Was probably already considering all the scavenge spots from where they usually got their "furniture" from.

"We're gonna need to get him a bigger everything." Red Alert shook his head. "Armour, baton, shield..."

Olly moved away from the two of them without so much as a word. He didn't want to be a part of this conversation. Not right now. He was too tired to get angry with his two oblivious friends.

All of this was just... It was too much.

Sitting on his old bunk (having to hunch down noticeably so that his head and shoulders weren't pressed against the bottom of the top bunk ), Olly buried his face in his hands and groaned.

He hated all of this so very much.

"Olly...?" Rhythm had, predictably, followed him.

He closed his eyes tightly and groaned into his hands again, this time gritting his teeth as he did so. He didn't want to talk.

"Is it ok if I touch your arm?"

He shook his head 'no'. He did NOT want to be touched right now.

"Do you need space?"

He shook his head 'yes'.

"Do you... Want us to leave?"

There was a minute pause as he considered this. Finally, Olly shook his head 'no' once more. He didn't want to be touched, and he wanted a little space. But he didn't want to be alone. Not really.

He was scared.

"Ok... We'll just sit here with you for a while ok?" Rhythm asked softly, in that way he always did whenever he was trying to reassure someone. "And then, when you feel a little better, we can go back to sorting out your gear, alright?"

He nodded in agreement. That sounded fine by him.

"Looking good Olly! Phase II is very becoming of you." Rhythm grinned at the sight of the new armour Olly was currently trying out. He ignored his Guard vod's antics, noting how some of the pieces still needed to be fitted to his specific body type.

"The Phase I armour was perfectly fine..." He grumbled as he jotted down a few notes to send to the armoury crew. He also requested some paint while he was at it.

"It's outdated." Rhythm pointed out. "Your old one had charm and reliability yeah, but I'm sure this new one's going to serve you just as well."

"Hm..." The new shield would do that, no doubt. He quite liked the heftiness of it, but would miss the history he'd had with the old one. Each deep scratch had told its own story. Stories which he could use to teach the newbies how things worked around Coruscant.

But Fox hadn't been content with just refitting his old gear to accommodate his growth. And the riot trooper suspected Rhythm, Remedy and Nocte had had a hand in requesting him an upgrade. They worried too much.

"You should try being a little bolder with the painjob this time." Rhythm offered. "Not that writing your name on it wasn't bold..."

"I really shouldn't be taking painting advice from a vod who put volume sliders on his own armour, only to then nearly deafen himself by playing loud music all day..." Olly pointed out. "Remedy is still mad about that, last I heard."

"Nah..." Rhythm grins. "Water under the bridge! And hey my paint is very stylish, I'll have you know! Some would say my volume sliders are very fashionable and fun, even!"

"The DJ community is not known for having sensible taste in fashion..."

"You wound me..."

Olly rolled his eyes and continued to inspect himself in the much too short mirror. He might be able to make this work, despite the slight inconvenience his new height offered him.

Whatever the case, he'd be more wary in the future. There were only so many times he could be "lucky" until his "good luck" finally ran out.

Hopefully the next time wouldn't be so tragic.

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #riot trooper olly olly oxenfree #riot trooper red alert #communications corrie rhythm #clone medic nocte #remedy gets mentioned a bunch but he doesn't actually show up #also yes olly is now canonically 8'3" and he hates it

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