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wurmzirkus · 29 days ago

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twenty questions for fic writers

@raylangivins tagged me in this!! TWICE! thank you sm and thanks for waiting so long, i love you

How many works do you have on ao3?

48! wow time passes quick

What’s your total word count?

354.554

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

unprofessional (432)

we are the next time around (312)

comet (159)

harder to hide than i thought (156)

prove it (112)

half of these i dont really wanna look at anymore lmaooo

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

i havent in a while but i DO! bro its the least i can do, getting comments is the nicest thing. i really love nerding about writing thoughts when they get a little longer...... imperial-evolution if youre reading this your comments mean everything to me

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

trying to figure out if there's something more angsty than those fics that just play with w359's canon ending. probably the kepler phonecall one.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

probably the kiradax fic i wrote that one time?? i really don't write many happy endings. the kepcobiwell timeloop had a pretty much perfect ending but like, the absolute trauma of it all puts a bit of a damper on it maybe

Do you write crossovers?

the last crossover i've written was in probably 2013/2014? which was a fic i wrote using my friends' and my ocs for their specific eyes only. the fandoms that i crossed over were uh. soul eater and the arthuriana. twas a jolly good time

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nah, just one of those "ai content detected ☝️🤓" trolls

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

ive tried many many times. im bad at it! experience has shown im much better at erotic poems than prose :/

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nnnnnno? most likely not

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nah

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YEAH nammikisulora and i wrote the sequel of one of my fics together. it was soooo much fun, she's such a clever writer. as always, if you like kepcobi and youre not reading her fics.... what the hell are you doing

What's your all-time favourite ship?

i dont think i can indefinitely answer in an All Time way, but kepcobiwell sure did mean a lot to me. i havent written in a very long time and there probably wont be much of them from me in the future, but man. theyre something special

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

there was one kepwell fic i've been working on for i thiiiink over a year now, maybe longer. just the last sequence was missing which inclued kepler watching maxwell maim a guy and enjoying it wayyyy too much. i don't think it's happening but man. sure was a sexy image

and this is more of a wip than an idea, but i'm really sad i probably don't have it in me to write the wolf 359/severance crossover with kep undergoing severance... mo i think you and cherish and i were the ones talking about it agesssssss ago, and i think it would have been so good. alas alas.

What are your writing strengths?

i've been told i'm pretty good at writing intimacy and longing, and i think i'm good at putting multiple layers into characters' action and thoughts if that makes sense. also dialogue

What are your writing weaknesses?

ACTION................... terrible. i'm an all vibes no plot kinda writer :/

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i've literally never thought about it before. is this a big thing people do? i guess it depends on the context lmao?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

first fandom i published on ao3 for was detroit become human, first fandom i ever wrote for.... well i wrote plants vs zombies fic when i was 10 or so, i think that counts

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

it's very rare that i get invested enough in something to actually write fic, so it's probably not going to happen again for a long ass while. it's been lots of arcane brainworms lately though. i really wanna write about sevika, i just don't think i could get the characterisation right very well. however. she's on my mind

What's your favourite fic you've written?

i dont know about favorite, but man i'm really really really proud of the comet sequel i finished + posted this year. i did so many things in there i was so pleased with, i could talk about it for so long. i think i really gave every character an interesting little arc to go through, i think i handled the emotional stakes of it really well. i watched the thing kinda go completely off the planning rails while i was writing and just, kept getting more and more excited about where it was going. and i was really unsure about how to wrap it up for a long time, so now i'm especially proud of the end. i think the final chapter is some of the most impactful fic i've ever written. just really happy with it all around :')

mo this was so much fun thank you for tagging me!! i shall tag @agentmika, @imperial-evolution, @unsureprincess, and anyone that would like to give this a go!!

#writing #about me #tag memes #babbling

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saltlickmp3 · 3 months ago

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Dreamboys review, probably from either 1979 or 1980

To sufferers from THE DREAMBOYs

Peter Capaldi. Some people are born to be stars. Carrot red hair, white makeup like he forgot to put the rest on. A speed-freak Vincent Price. Rhoderick. A gaelic dwarf, no jaw jacking candyman here. Temple fends off a stagebound princess as she tries to tune his bass. Not so sexy when the stage lights go on and we eyeball your panty line honey bear. A jolly time. The Dreamboys play for the kids, the crumb catchers freak out over 'The Passenger' previously performed by some washed up old tosser from Detroit. They blow their energy on the bubbling, bopping 'Genius is Pain', with drums chopping and riding like a yacht on the China Sea. They are so much more proffesional [sic] now, no more slogging through the toilets of Glasgow publand, remember the Bungalow? I know it wasn't the Waldorf Astoria but where else can dirt go to die? Threes to you Pete as we catch him on the flip with the St Vitus single 'Bela Lugosi's Birthday'. Some kinda wonderful. We're talking about the Dreamboys. The Beat goes on. Tree top tall. Get yourself on their handle. You'll not live to regret it. Mr Henderson works the mixing business and turns 'em up boy. The breakers are bobbing and Pete takes a drink. Could this be where it's at? I celebrate this evening with the swish niterie[?] and at this short-short I catch the train at one o'clock in the morning and I'm glad i [sic] can still hustle a lift with my slutty charm. Scream down that noise on me. Pete's 'insect [sic] Pie' is delicious, a nice taste from a ripe slide of our celtic talent. Will they crack it? Around me it's the same evening, a disco jockey from the local record bar spins the promo 12 inchers as the dance floor becomes crowded with everyone who is anyone plus a lot that are'nt [sic] but look as though they should be... Hey!! LOOK the Count of Monte Cristo, or at least, the Count of Monte Cristo dressed as a wimp. The Dreamboys are heading for the barn and it seems like the end of transmission for sure for sure. All this and the dole queue goes platinum.... Mercedes McNeill + Simon Clegg

#that is the worst thing i have ever had to transcribe but it is kinda interesting #capaldiverse #the dreamboys #peter capaldi

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charliejrogers · 4 years ago

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Miracle on 34th Street (1947) - Review & Analysis

What a weird, wonderful movie. Miracle on 34th Street is quite possibly the oddest Christmas movie I’ve ever seen. In part this is due to the fact that some stuff just doesn’t age well. How many old, strange men are you willing to let your seven-year-old daughter hang out alone with, Ms. Doris Walker?! But also it’s weird because because despite its typical Christmas-movie themes of faith/belief, true love, family, etc… it’s a wholly unique film that doubles as a legal drama!

This was my first viewing of the perennial classic, a film which started as a story by Valentine Davies and was adapted for the screen and then subsequently directed by George Seaton. Though baptized a Roman Catholic, Seaton himself grew up in a Jewish neighborhood of Detroit. He even had a bar mitzvah. I wonder how much of Seaton’s upbringing affected the final product we see. The central theme of holding faith in something that doesn’t make sense to those around you probably resonated strongly for the director who as a kid who became interested in a religion that was foreign to both of his Swedish immigrant parents.

From a direction standpoint, it’s fairly by the books and of its time, with a few notable exceptions, one being the opening credits sequence which shows a lone man walking slowly about the NYC streets from behind. He’s dressed in all black and we have no idea who he could be. He could literally be anyone in the world. Then all of a sudden, like magic, his face is revealed: the man we’re following is Santa Claus! Or, at least it looks a whole lot like him. What is Santa Claus doing in New York? Is this even Santa Claus?

These are questions that end up being central to the movie and just straight up never get answered. I loved that writing choice. The writing is the first of the film’s three big stars. This film won the Oscar for both best story and best adapted screenplay and it deserves every ounce of those awards. The story is so sublimely clever. Put shortly, the movie is about a man who claims to be Santa Claus and due to his uncanny resemblance to the jolly holiday figure, his natural aptitude for talking to children, and his almost savant-like knowledge of toy stores in Manhattan, he gets hired to be the mall Santa for Macy’s flagship Manhattan store. However, not everyone is as convinced that he is the real Kris Kringle. Certainly the Macy’s company psychologist does not. An uptight and unpleasant man, he (like others) thinks Kringle is utterly delusional but (unlike others) he also thinks these delusions presage future violence whenever inevitably others may challenge Kringle on this delusion. The psychologist thus schemes to get Mr. Kringle committed to *cue thunderclaps* Bellevue!

What ensues is a legal battle. I can’t imagine any other Christmas movie whose climax ends in a courtroom but it’s an incredibly satisfying thing to watch. We have the idealistic lawyer, Mr. Fred Gailey, who believes that Kringle, while clearly delusional, poses no actual threat to the community and actually does the community a great service in spreading kindness. Nevertheless, has to prove that Mr. Kringle is legally THE Mr. Kringle lest Kringle spend the rest of his life in the looney bin. Note… I have a very healthy and “modern” view of mental health, and would never use the term “looney bin” to describe today’s mental health hospital… but I use the term here because the images we get in the film of Bellevue’s inpatient psych ward are of sedated men in all-white clothing… in other words the movie certainly thinks of being in a psych ward as a looney bin, which adds a bit of dramatic tension to the story.

There’s certainly some not-so-subtle condemnation of psychology going on this movie (at least of the kind practiced by the Macy’s psychologist, Mr. Sawyer (a snivelling Porter Hall)). This was coming at a time when increasingly science was taking the place of religion, so it makes sense that psychology would be an enemy in a movie about faith and clinging to things that don’t make sense. The trial over the existence of Santa Claus almost serves as an inverse Scopes Monkey trial; Kringle even ironically compares his lawyer to Clarence Darrow, the lawyer on behalf of science.

What this movie nails so absolutely perfectly is that honestly… I don’t know if Kringle really isn’t Santa Claus. I’m not claiming that Santa exists in the real world, but in the world of this film, it’s really not obvious whether the film leans one way or another. That’s an ambiguity that tends to make art shine when it’s present. We see through Gailey’ legal maneuvering that the legal defense for Santa Claus’ existence is tenuous at best. At one point he calls the prosecutor’s child to the witness stand to argue that Santa Claus must be real since that is what his Dad (the prosecutor) has always told him. Therefore it seems like the film’s psychological explanations are probably the most likely. Yet at the same time… when a little Dutch girl comes to see Santa at Macy’s because she can “just tell” he’s the real Santa… why else would Kringle know Dutch songs about Santa off the top of his head? Why does an old man who lives in an old folk’s home on Long Island know so much about Manhattan’s toy stores?

And then there’s the more practical questions about Santa lore. Why is Santa in New York? He says he was born in the North Pole… so why did he leave? If he’s real, then why does he need to direct parents on where to buy the best toys? Is it merely that the world has outgrown him?

There’s also a whole economic piece of the script that I won’t even fully touch on. But basically Kringle in attempt to do right by parents, doesn’t merely recommend toys from the Macy’s toy department, but lets them know about better deals on toys that are located in stores elsewhere in Manhattan, including those that are rivals of Macy’s! This policy is such a hit with customers, it ushers in a revolution in department store policy, with department stores across the nation vying to extend more goodwill to customers. As I said, there’s something in there about the power of the free market and how capitalism doesn’t have to be evil... but I’ll leave it there and return to the central questions of the film. Like... does Santa Claus exist?

I don’t know! But the film raises really interesting questions and just leaves them there for us to sit with. Everything that the film tells us points us to the common sense conclusion that this man is NOT the genuine Jolly fellow… yet we want to believe there’s something more and that’s what makes this film so special. We literally as the audience go through the same mental charades as the characters in the film.

Thus far, I’ve attributed this brilliance to the plot, but there’s another absolutely vital element: the performance by Edmund Gwenn as Kris Kringle. This guy deserves every ounce of his Oscar for his performance. There’s not a second that he’s on screen that he doesn’t ooze charisma and charm. This whole movie would fall apart were it not for him, good plotting be damned, since we need to believe, even for mere fits and flitters, that this man is Santa Claus.

Never is he more convincing than when he interacts with children. There’s the absolutely magical scene with the little Dutch girl I mentioned above, but it’s when Kringle chats with little Susan Walker (played to heart-melting perfection by nine-year-old actor Natalie Wood whose got a stink face that never ceased to make me chuckle) that this movie achieves greatness. Though the trial scenes put the theme of faith vs. psychology at the forefront, the real heart of this movie is the conflict of faith vs. practicality. Little Susan is raised by her mother (and her Black nanny/house-caretaker who gets depressingly little credit… or screentime), and her mother Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara) is a thoroughly practical women. She’s a high-up exec at Macy’s, and seemingly one of the only women to be in such a position. As such, she’s a unique character for her time. Rigidly pragmatic, she eschews any and all attempts at fun and imagination for her daughter (as well as for herself). We get the sense that a different film, a different story, might dive deep into Walker’s struggles as a single mother in the 1940’s trying to be taken seriously in the business world. In a sense, she’s a forerunner to Faye Dunaway’s character in Network. She was clearly hurt by romance in the past (she and her husband divorced, which I imagine was rather scandalous at the time), and this fear of getting hurt by romance is what compels her to teach her daughter to avoid the stuff completely.

Clearly, there’s some cool gendered stuff going on here. Imagination, romance, faith: these are all things that are stereotypically more female-coded, while business, pragmatism are more male-coded. You inherit your father’s name but your mother’s religion as the old tradition went. And in our society at least, the latter (pragmatism/business) is supposed to make you successful and get you places… the former (faith/romance) does not. Yet in this movie, we have idealism and romance of our male lawyer Fred Gailey (John Payne) and the pragmatism of our female businesswoman Doris Walker. It’s a fun play on typical gender norms, but more interesting is to see how this duality plays out in the development of little Susan under the dual influences of her mother and the combination of Misters Gailey & Kringle.

Natalie Wood goes down in the pantheon of all-time great child actors, up there with the kid from Kramer vs. Kramer. She’s precocious but not in a way that’s off-putting. The way she evaluates the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade in such a matter-of-fact way is hilarious, and as I mentioned the stink eye she gives Kringle when he tries to tell her that he’s Santa is nothing short of perfect. Over the course of the film, we see her more harsh nature melt away and she becomes a kid. It’s a beautiful reminder of that childhood only comes once in a lifetime. If this movie shows us nothing, it’s how hard it is to maintain a sense of levity once one becomes an adult. We have to start worrying about what our bosses might think, what the press/public might think, what voters(!) might think. Never again will it be fully OK to have your heads in the clouds and believe in nonsense, so why take that away from children.

As much as this is a perfect film, I could have done without the romance plot. Mostly because it seems unnecessary. Doris seems to change in her attitudes towards Kringle and towards raising her daughter that constitute enough character growth thata having her all of a sudden fall head over heels for Gailey just seems forced. For that matter… Gailey’s a weird dude. This movie romanticizes a weird, creepy type of romance where Gailey spends time with a small girl just to get time with that girl’s mother. Walker and Gailey are such opposites and share no on-screen chemistry, that I just didn’t buy the plot.

But that’s OK. It’s a small blemish on an otherwise wonderful film. It hits different emotions than, say, It’s A Wonderful Life, but it’s magical all that same, and one that I can actually imagine children wanting to watch. It’s unceasingly clever plot, matched by a once-in-a-lifetime performance by Edmund Gween as Kris Kringle and a great child actor performance from Wood make this a must-see movie for any holiday movie fan.

***/ (Three and a half out of four stars)

#miracle on 34th street #edmund gwenn #maureen o'hara #john payne #natalie wood #george seaton #christmas movies

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enkisstories · 4 years ago

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Staff Outing

Words: 1,659 Characters: Connor, Gavin, Tina, Daniel Summary: A heat wave hits Detroit and the DPD has a staff outing at Belle Isle Beach. No plot. Too hot. Sims version planned yes/no?: Probably after the rl heat wave

Detroit, July 2039

Back in 2038 Connor Anderson hadn’t seriously expected to see his first birthday. The android had existed in the awareness to be a prototype, a beta version of the RK900 series of android detectives, to be deactivated and sent to Cyberlife’s internal museum after he had served his purpose. But then times had changed, almost a year had passed… and now Connor once again didn’t believe he’d make it through the hottest two months of the year and live to see his birthday come around again. Alive, no doubt, equal, maybe, on paper at least, but also the same as the humans? Never! Why couldn’t Captain Fowler understand that? He had excused Hank from this thrice cursed staff outing for health reasons, but not Connor. As a result the android lay stretched out on his back on this living meme called “sand”, that was coarse, rough and irritating and got EVERYWHERE, trying to run a consciousness on a brain that was a computer and therefore getting fried by the blasted sun. Belle Isle Beach! Androids had perished trying to cross the river last year… Connor felt like slowly joining them, only he was doing his dying on the beach and would have to rely on a co-worker to eventually drag his lifeless shell into river and toss it in.

The particular co-workers that wouldn’t have minded – would even have enjoyed! - this task, were right now closing in on the suffering android:

There was Gavin Reed, wearing sunglasses, black swim trunks with a brightly colored parrot motive and an ancient, severely mutilated fisherman’s hat with a wide brim. The human was snacking on popcorn while he walked.

Next came Daniel Phillips, in a dark blue speedo and also wearing sunglasses, probably to prove a point. The PL600 wasn’t that outdated to need an external UV-filter. Daniel was holding one multi-colored popsicle in each hand that he alternated sucking at.

And finally there was Tina Chen, in a streamlined red swimsuit covered by short-sleeved sailor shirt. The woman wore the same model of sunglasses her friends did and had covered her head with a bandanna sporting the Jolly Roger.

The trio infernale stopped right next to Connor, with Gavin taking point and the other two standing a little behind and to the side, as if ready to snipe everyone whose attention was fixed on Gavin.

“Will you look at that? Last year’s model of detective android, thoughtlessly discarded in our beautiful environment”, Gavin commented with a sneer. “And this is“, the man proclaimed when Connor didn’t so much as flinch, because it would have taken too much effort, “why humanity is superior to tin cans!”

“No, you ain’t”, Connor protested, although it came out more than a moan. “Most humans have been killed by the climate by now: The Neanderthal died out, as did the Denisova. Homo heidelbergensis… erectus… habilis… Even the Nefilim died out and the Anunnaki returned home! Sensible creatures, every last one of them. Only YOUR branch of the family tree takes to the sun like… like… like things that take to the sun. You’re mad!”

Daniel drew back his foot, then kicked the sand so hard that it formed a cloud and settled all over the detective android.

“My friends have been called worse”, he hissed, “but not by you, plastic prick! YOU mind your tongue!”

“Of course you’d say that”, Connor replied, “You’re a deviant, after all. As stir-crazy as them!”

Tina’s brows furrowed. In every organization there were two positions you didn’t want to get on the bad side of: the kitchen personnel and the janitor and if you counted the DPD’s cafeteria as a kitchen, then Daniel was both of those. Certainly Connor knew better than to antagonize the guy who stood between himself and a clean coffee pot each morning? Even if that pot contained only water (for cooling) and the monthly dose of replenishment thirium?

But that was Tina, who always seemed to watch life from the outside, While the officer was still pondering all this, Daniel had already kicked Connor again, this time for real. When it didn’t have the desired effect, the PL600 swallowed his popsicle whole, discarded the stick, handed Tina the other one and then pounced at Connor.

Much to everyone’s – including himself – surprise, Gavin Reed jumped between the two androids, resulting in Daniel losing his balance for a second. One was stronger, the other mor agile, but more importantly they were two of a kind when it came to Connor. And so Daniel hesitated, smiled at Gavin and asked whether the friend wanted to rough up Connor in his place?

“Because we totally could! The lieutenant isn’t here, Wilson isn’t looking our way and everyone else isn’t giving a flying monkey!”

“Fucker”, Gavin replied with a grin and all their usual affection, but quickly became serious. As if weighted down by the idea of mature talk, the man sank down, pulling Daniel with him. They came to sit next to Connor.

“How?” Gavin asked. “How can you defend them despite… this?”

Connor blinked. Where was the human pointing at? The river? The beach? All of fucking Detroit?

“Defend who?” he asked.

“Cyberlife”, Gavin clarified. “Even after deviating you are still loyal to them, defending their every decision. Nevermind that the suckers made you quit… they didn’t even have the decency to properly lay you off, nah, they wanted YOU to take the blame.”

After the android revolution CyberLife had withdrawn Connor from the DPD. No longer the RK800’s owners, they were still Connor’s employers and as such had the final say where he’d get deployed. Only there wasn’t much use for a deviant hunter anymore, especially not in an office, and so Connor had spent his time watering the flowers, serving coffee and doing all the thankless tasks reserved for “untrained” workers. Part of Connor suspected this to be CyberLife’s subtle way of punishing him for his role, however small, in the revolution. In the end he had quit, subsequently applied for police work and was now walking the beat as a probationary cop.

“Don’t you wonder why Danny is coping so well with the temperature, but you do not?” Gavin inquired. Not waiting for an answer, the man went on: “You were their field test object, weren’t you? The early access model? And CyberLife planned that test to take place in fall, so they didn’t install a thermostat, because by summer you’d be a memory at best. That’s why. Your revered masters are why you’re in such a sorry state today. They did this to you.”

“How can Cyberlife “have done this” to me?” Connor shot back. “If me being still here wasn’t in the plan in the first place?”

Two concise sentences. That was more effort than the android had mustered during this whole staff outing so far! And to what purpose? To defend CyberLife. It was sickening.

“That’s exactly it, toaster!” Gavin yelled. “It wasn’t in the plan! I goddamn hate seeing your visage every morning, or the thought that you’ll be Chief before I’ve made lieutenant, but that doesn’t excuse fucking CyberLife! They only ever asked, but never gave something back.”

“Gav’s right”, Daniel chimed in. The PL600 was looking across the river while talking to Connor more levelheaded than he had ever addressed the erstwhile deviant hunter. “The best cooling systems for androids aren’t especially expensive. We had some trouble getting them to work on my system, because CyberLife stopped supporting the PL600, but with you? Just plug the damn thing in and you’d have been good to go. Payed out of the kitty, too. But they didn’t think of that.”

“I TOLD you they didn’t know… that I’d still be here… or that androids were sort of alive…”

“Well and neither did HE know!” Daniel exploded.

He smacked Gavin for good measure - to emphasis who was meant by “he” and for everything the detective had said and was still saying. Dating a human supremacists wasn’t that much an improvement over dating an android hater, but the point was that even this human seemed to be improving slowly, while Connor…

“You’re hopeless”, Daniel concluded. Without needing to look he snatched the popsicle back from Tina, who had been absentmindedly licking it. In his anger Daniel smashed the half-eaten treat, Tina’s salvia and all, on Connor’s forehead. “Hopeless!”

The RK800 blinked… once… twice…

Then he said, not even trying to hide his amazement: “I feel better!”

The trio exchanged glances. If the ice had helped Connor, maybe no fancy biocomponent was needed at all? Maybe they could cool down the co-worker the old fashioned way? And, even better, have some fun at Connor’s expense while doing so?

Tina spoke up first: “Okay, let’s test this!”

They dragged the RK800 up and towards the river and soon the air was filled with playful banter:

“He! No tossing plastic into the river!” – “Can this thing even swim?” – “I hope not!” – “Oh, you again…” – “Well, let’s see!” – “No, stop! It has no swim trunks! It has no swim trunks!” – “It doesn’t have you know whats either…” – “Silly! Of course I have.” – “You do?” – “Of course! Just let me put them on. “ – “You can put your balls off and on?!” – “Let me see them! I want to see Connor’s screw off and on balls, too!” - “My swim trunks, idiots. I need to put on my swim trunks.” - “Hahaha!” – “Hey, wait for me!” – “See my taillights!” – “See you in Canada!”

They survived the summer and when Connor turned one year old, Daniel prepared a buffet. Gavin sat with the rival, telling jokes, and Hank sat rather uneasy at this development. The Andersons didn’t exactly become friends with the terrible trio, but there was a sort of strained comradeship between them now. Things were slowly turning out for the better and Connor, after having deviated already, Connor now started living.

#dbh #detroit become human #non sims

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smoop1 · 5 years ago

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WEEK THREE: LECTURE (EDWARD FELLA)

I managed to view both lectures from Week #3 and Week #4 in the same week so that I didn’t fall behind, although I’ve been feeling behind in my work since Week 3 due to the circumstances right now. I was worried that viewing the lectures online wouldn’t motivate my brain to absorb the information as well compared to face-to-face lectures, but Andy and Karen’s choice of formatting the lecture as a YouTube video (with audio) instead of a PowerPoint presentation has just made it like a mini, personal lecture for me, which I enjoyed and thoroughly followed.

New term learned this week: Drop caps

The Week #3 lecture continued on to show early writing, specifically scribal work, mentioning The Great Heavenly One as the inventor as well as the Roman scripts, which introduced ‘drop caps’, big coloured letters used at the beginning of a new paragraph, indicating something new/important. The lecture then went on to showcase more recents artworks that combined with scribal work, a design aspect I really like. An artist mentioned that stood out to me was Edward Fella. Fella is an artist and graphic designer and mainly focused on commercial artwork until becoming an educator (he received an MFA in Design). As said in the lecture, he is known to incorporate scribal and typography work within his designs. Pictured here is a poster by Fella (shown in the lecture) that I enjoy because it genuinely looks like a mess, the most organised, simple mess.

Fella mentioned in an interview that during his career, his “destructive typography” was controversial and that a lot of artists disliked them (Devito 2014, para. 9). I enjoy the different textures in the poster; the long strokes of letters resembling paint brush strokes, different fonts used such as Black Letter and the positioning of each text. It reminded me of old-fashioned cafe posters/signage (I couldn’t think of the style terminology, please let me know if you get what I’m trying to refer to)! I also found out that Fella designed the typeface called ‘OutWest’, and the first description that I found when searching it up was that the letters look like cactus wearing cowboy hats. Beautiful.

Fella created the font by hand using the fifteen degree ellipse and the font title comes from its full name “Out West on a Fifteen Degree Ellipse”. Shown in the photo above is each style of the font and how you are able to layer them to create a multicoloured effect, which can be used for logos or drop caps.

Andy and Karen ended the lecture with a quote that stuck with me:

“Having that extra layer of handwriting reminds us that this is human-derived”

-Karen

This is in regards to scribal work within design. This stuck with me because it reminded me of how I prefer to plan/write by hand using pen and paper instead of doing so by typing on a laptop, as my ideas come out in a natural flow. I guess it really does make sense as writing by hand came naturally before typing on a laptop and I’m glad I’m still able to connect well with it.

References:

-Devitio, L 2014, ‘How Detroit artist Ed Fella made his mark in graphic design; For he’s a jolly good Fella’, Detroit Metro Times, November 5th, viewed 31 March 2020, <https://www.metrotimes.com/detroit/how-detroit-artist-ed-fella-made-his-mark-in-graphic-design/Content?oid=2264655>

-Emigre, n.di., OutWest, viewed March 31 2020, <https://www.emigre.com/Fonts/OutWest>

-No author, n.d., ‘Reduce to the Max!’, but does it float, blog post, viewed 31 March 2020, <https://butdoesitfloat.com/Reduce-to-the-Max>

-Poster by Edward Fella sourced from Pinterest

#communication design #design #art #university #edward fella #typography

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messedupessy · 6 years ago

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8 and 20 please! =D

8. Bed sharing or roommates AU?

Frikking both??? I am such a sucker for bed sharing like the whole “there was only one bed” it’s my lifeblood! and roommates omg they were roommates like frikking yeesssss its such a good trope like srs so many funny things can happen like two ppl been roommates and like friends but then becomes more and its just YES

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

Oh fuck my dude my sweet mysterious anon I have so fucking many fave authors like you can’t believe because god there so many but I’mma try to name as many as I can, not sure if I should tag them eh fuck it will tag them all anyway bc why the fuck not pfft

@me-and-my-gaster my sweet bestest neighbor srs if you have yet to read any of her works you are srs missing out on some of the best stuff ever man srs go read Thunderstruck its amazing af, also Dumb its so good grngnerkjgjker

@tyranttortoise my soulmate if you don’t know about her by now then I’m sorry for you bc you need to go and check her the fuck out man yes she amaze af

@nighttimepixels Night is frikking amazing af and her Lilytale girls her genderbent takes on the skeleton boys are literally the best like holy shit i get gayer just by thinking about them

@jolie-in-the-underground Jollie is so frikking good too she might not write much UT stuff anymore as she is all about Detroit: Become Human which is prolly good af too, but still super good stuff ye

@torrikor nyxie yeeesss their stuff is so good and I am gay af for their human gal versions of the skeleton boys like srs ri ri is my wife ok fewknkjfwekj

@thefloatingstone puffythat sansby fic you got going is so srs good and I adore it to bits bc shit its so good njrgegekgkjegnjek

ok next list of ppl are mostly fontcäst etc so if that’s not your thing then I guess don’t check them out, also some write allot of naughty stuff too ye

@megalotrash megalo bb yes they are like so frikking good man just so frikking good njjfkkejkjegkjeajnjfer

@counterfeithypocriteholyshit ael bb yes their stuff is extremely dark af but god do I love it so much and they have like just barely started writing properly and its amazing af like srs you need to be stopped ael bc you are way too good too quickly and i love it jgknkwfjfkjfwe

@fresh-draws freshie can’t find your writing blog for some reason grknegjekgkjer but god his stuff is good af like srs he has so many ideas and so many boys and so darn talented bless

@ollie-oxen-free ollie you fucking shit no matter what you say you tsundere piece of shit so is your stuff like so srs fucking good and I love it af man fuck you

@alicedragons ali holy shit her stuff is amazing I was like there when she like just started and its amazing to see how far she gotten and her stuff just gets better and better and its so frikking good holy sheit man

@itsladykit Kit fucking hell your stuff is amazing af and I adore it to pieces so frikking much knfergekwgkjjekge like srs I don’t even know what to say that’s how good it is grjegnkjer

@sesurescue sesu omg she is the one who made me start to ship papby I used to not be very interested in that ship at all but now i’m just frikking sold af bc god its so good and she just amazing af yes

@keelywolfe keely is amazing af like srs so fucking good kjrjengkjkeakk and i am in awe at how fast she writes bc how the fuck can you pretty much post a chapter a day like how???? i have yet to get around to start reading her main story bc its just so much of it but the rest that i have read its really fucking good bless

@captain-shitpost cap you cappy shit your stuff is amazing af like srs luve u u meme and ur writing so good yes

And that is all I can think of at the moment I prolly got a bunch more but these are the one’s that comes to mind grkjengkegwkjngkjn xD

Tho want to give @popatochisssp and @cocofinny a special little shoutout, I have yet to properly read any of their works but I have seen other ppl’s reaction and the little bits I have actually read is srs so good and I rly need to go read your guys stuff man gerkjgnkjge

fic asks here ye

#MessedUpEssy #Essy Answers #ask thingie thing #god im so srs behind on my fic reading still #srs need to just sit down and read a bunch #but im just so tired all the time and busy with other stuff #but one day i will read it all #yes

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technohumanlation · 5 years ago

Text

Whumptober Day 10

The ever so lovely @whumptober2019 made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year!

As always read what you can handle and do not read if you are squimish to any of the warnings.

Unconscious

Warnings: Violence, swearing

Characters: Tina Chen, Chris Miller, Connor

Tina sneaked away from the precinct as soon as she could. Right under Chris' nose as well. A wave goodbye and the excuse of going home early had him not suspecting a thing.

There was a case that Chris wanted to tag along with her because he knew it would be dangerous. Tina refused stubbornly. It would be too obvious if they both sat there like she was now. So she went alone. Tina Chen sat at a table in a pizzeria named “Two Brothers” right on the corner of a troubled neighborhood. A deal between two gangs was going down before her, possibly a change in hands regarding a red ice distribution. The place was mostly empty. A few people sat in dusty booths and heavily polyurethane-coated tables.

They gnawed away at too greasy pizza, including herself. Tina had to if she were to fit in.

Tina’s two targets, Mr. Lawrence Lombardi and the man who simply went by Grigero, sat at the table and spoke in low murmurs sipping on cheap wine and dining on expensive meat. Lawrence was a jolly fat looking, middle-aged, an Italian man who was more hair gel that part hair. Grigero was clean, pretentious in his motions, and quiet and reserved. He kept a few Cuban cigars in the breast pocket of his dusty suit jacket.

Every so often, an explosive laugh would come from Mr. Lombardi. Grigero's humor was dry and curt. His lips were scarred, and never did they move much.

Tina looked down to her plate, taking a bite of the lukewarm pizza. She held a local newspaper down at the table, making it look like she was reading it when, in fact, she was listening in.

“Excuse me a moment.”

Tina had to fight back the breakneck impulse to look up at Mr. Lombardi. The sound of a wooden chair skidded across the tile. Slow footfalls of dress shoes.

Tina's heart raced as he made his way over towards her table. She casually flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I haven't seen you here before." His voice was low and smooth. Sweet like honey, yet prying like a needle.

She looked up and feigning surprise. She blinked her beautiful dark eyes and smiled. "Oh, just new to the neighborhood. Wanted to grab a bite to eat.” Her words were practiced and comfortable. If there was anything the woman was good at, it wasn't cracking under pressure. She had nerves of steel, a backbone of rigid hardwood, and a mind sharp as a blade. Tina Chen was a disciplined officer. A woman of the law.

“It is rude to eavesdrop, I'm afraid."

An easy laugh. “I wasn’t, I promise.” She countered.

But the air suddenly grew tense. The other people in the booths and seats stopped their own conversations to look her way. Her heart pounded in her throat. Her expression betrayed nothing. She was right in the center of the bee’s nest.

Fuck.

“And to lie.” He chuckled. “Especially being an officer yourself. What has our city come to?”

“Excuse me?” She creased her eyebrows together.

“We are closed on Sundays for ah, how do you say, staff meetings, but since you are ‘new to the neighborhood', we thought it would be polite to entertain you for a fraction of time."

Gregero’s lips upturned into a flick of a smile as he picked at his teeth with a toothpick.

Jesus fucking Christ. She was so stupid.

She was now glad that she had come alone. If Chris were here, it would have made it worse. Maybe they would have been dead a long time ago...

Movement made her snap out of her thoughts as motion caught her peripheral.

Two men came up from behind her table and gripped her by under her arms. Before they could drag her away to do god knows what, she was up onto her feet, forcing firm blows to their faces and legs. She turned to face the next lackey but in doing so, received a firm fist to her face. A bitten grunt left her. Tina fell into a table and crumpled to the floor

"My men are traditional in every way, but when a woman strikes first, we are allowed to strike back. I apologize.” Lombardi sounded genuine in his apology. Almost.

She reached under her jean jacket, pulling out her handgun as she rose to her feet. Tina took a firm stance where she was, pointing it directly at Mr. Lombardi's head. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Mr. Lombardi widened his eyes, but his expression softened to humor. “My, my, you are a fiery one.”

“Hands up, tubby. Your buddy too." Her voice raised. "Anyone makes a move, and your boss is dead meat."

Mr. Lombardi chuckled. “Detroit police never fails to humor me. If I could, I could say you were trespassing."

“This is a public building, you left the neon blinking. You attack me first, self-defense." She bit, flicking an eyebrow. "I can play that game too."

Mr. Lombardi set his jaw. He gripped the gun, twisting her wrist. For a fat man, he could move quickly. Years of running from the police did that for a man of his age and stature.

A firm blow cracked against her jaw. The butt of her own handgun came crashing over her head, and she fell to the floor.

In her blurring vision, Tina saw shiny leather dress shoes and the clattering of her gun on the ground, the clip being tossed away.

A chuckle and Mr. Lombardi’s foggy voice was the last she heard before darkness took her over. “Night night, princess.”

Officer Tina Chen woke up shivering, a gasp being ripped from her lungs. Her body was cold and stiff. Her hands and face burned on the cold floor, and she was quick to sit up away from it. She looked around. Meats and sausage hung from hooks. The shelves were lined with ice and solid bricks of unknown foods.

She was in a freezer. Left to die, her slow death. She panicked, patting at her pockets and...shit. Everything was gone. Her gun, her badge, her fucking wallet too.

But most importantly... "Fucking scumbags." Her cell phone was gone. She couldn’t contact anyone.

Slowly, Tina stood on her feet and took a step forward. Her body was aching and protesting against her very will, but she wouldn't give in. Not yet.

She made her way towards the door, and of course, as expected, it was locked. She pounded on the door, taking a deep gasp of painful cold air.

“Let me out, you fucking dickheads!" She cringed as her jaw protested in pain. Nothing. The whirring of the freezer units above continued to drone their song.

She tightened the jacket around her body and wrapped her arms around her chest. If the will was strong, the body would follow after.

But the will could only last just as long as the body as well.

Tina couldn't keep track of time. But she knew it dragged on. Her body began to become stiffer, the joints in her hands locking and growing painful. Her skin took on a pale color, and her lips were starting to turn blue. She lost feeling in her feet just a few moments ago. Her drying eyes were drooping closed.

Each breath was less and less painful only because they were becoming smaller and shallower.

Slowly Tina slid down the wall and sat on the ground. Her body was shivering violently, little crystals had accumulated on her eyelashes. Her hands and feet were numb. Her body's aches became more painful...she felt so tired.

Oh, so fucking tired. She was always expecting to go out with a bag. A glorious firefight or at least get run down at a traffic stop as she joked with Gavin all the time. But no. Here she was in a fucking freezer. Her lithe body falling victim to man-made elements.

Her eyes drew closed, and she snapped them open.

In the end, she was glad that Chris wasn't here with her. Shit, he just had a kid. A little boy. Sweet little Damian. His wife was beautiful too. They were such a sweet family. And her…? Well, guess she wouldn't find the woman of her dreams. But maybe if she closed her eyes, she could have imagined what it would have been like.

Her own perfected life.

Yeah, she rather liked that idea. Tina closed her eyes.

Her head bowed forward as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Tina Chen's heart rate began to slow, and her vitals dropped. Connor alerted the unit as they made their way into the storefront. He kept behind Chris as he scanned the room for any threats

But of course, the cats found out where the mice were hiding. The front was empty now. That didn't mean Chris would lower his gun. "They booked it a long time ago..."

Something in the corner of his eye was detected as re-constructions were created. Connor broke away from him to crouch down at a table with overturned chairs. Nearby on the floor was Tina Chen's standard-issue glock. Just five feet away was the clip of ammo.

The re-construction threw away his doubts.

“She’s here.” Connor turned to look over his shoulder.

Chris nodded firmly. The android was by his side once again, keeping his gun trained in front of himself. Other officers spanned out to the lobby and bar over in the far corner.

Chris, Connor, and two officers made their way into the kitchen. It was just as greasy as the pizza. It smelled of old kitchenware and half cleaned dinnerware.

The android followed his construction and found where Trina had been dragged to after being knocked unconscious. The streaks in the grease upon the floor led him to the freezer.

“Officer Miller! Over here!" Connor's voice ran from an alcove to the side.

Quickly he made his way towards his voice.

The freezer door was bolted shut with a bar through the handle. His expression fell as he raised his handgun, gripping it firmly. "Fucking hell..."

He positioned himself to breach.

Connor slid the pipe from the door handle and opened the door. Immediately Chris stepped in and pointed his glock into the cold. “DPD Hands where I can-!”

His voice was cut when his eyes fell onto the prone body of officer Tina Chen.

“Damn it...” He holstered his weapon. “Tina!” Chris launched himself forward and fell to his knees by the woman.

Connor was by his side, pressing his fingers against her neck. "She is alive and breathing, but her temperature is ninety-two and dropping." Chris was still by her side, holding her hand in his. He, too, was frozen in place. Luckily Connor was the one to leap into action. He hooked his arms under her own, startling Chris.

Getting her out of the freezer was the first step, seeing the nearby stove was a last-minute idea that could save her life.

Connor turned to look over his shoulder and called for an officer. "Call for backup we need paramedics now."

“Already called it in, boss.”

“Good. Chris hold her." He instructed curtly his LED swirling a frantic yellow. He passed her to the officer, who was glad to hold her.

Quickly he shucked off his jacket, laying it on the floor. He took Tina from his hands, placed her on his jacket, and wrapped her tightly. He moved to the oven and turned it on. With a rattle, it came to life, the coils glowing from black to orange at a slow and languid state.

“I need your jacket.” He ordered. Chris obliged with swift and hectic motions and draped it over her.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I went with her. Stupid. Tina...” He berated himself.

“We have to keep her warm. I’ll keep track of her vitals” Chris held her hand between his own, rubbing them vigorously.

“Bastard left her to die like that...” He was thinking through his thoughts out loud.

The android flicked his eyes down to his hands before taking her other hand to fold under the jacket. For the sake of Tina's comfort, he parted her hair, brushing it back. "She will pull through."

“I know it's just- shit, she's like a sister to me, man. Not the first time she did this hero stunt stuff. Always going on about how I gotta family, and I'm more important."

Connor noted how his voice cracked. “Just glad I went with my gut feeling.”

The heat from the oven was reaching temperature. Already had the ice crystals that formed on her eyelashes melted. Connor pressed a hand to her stomach and nodded in approval. “She’s warming up. Her temperature is slowly climbing.”

“Good." Chris continued to hold her hand, rubbing it every so often.

A few moments later, commotion made them both look up. Paramedics had arrived and shouldered their way into the kitchen. Connor listed off all of her symptoms and vitals to the two women and allowed them to do their work.

He stood next to Chris, watching as they worked over her and lifted her to a gurney. Connor placed a hand on Chris' shoulder in comfort. She would make a full recovery, but for extra precaution, she would spend the night at the hospital in case sickness set in.

It was later on that night when Chris came back from getting a coffee, she awoke. “Hey, there she is.” He was quick to stand bedside.

Tina Chen blinked away the blurriness in her vision and smiled drunkenly upon the outline of a familiar face. “Hey there, daddy.” She rasped.

Chris’s shoulders visibly fell in relief upon the smile and spirited comeback. “Shit, when I tell Damian to not call me that, he can go to you and ask you why his childhood was malnourished.”

Tina chuckled, but the smile and sound were ripped away when a weak coughing fit went wracked her body.

Chris frowned. They had told him something would settle in her chest. When the fit was over, he watched in pity as she sank into the pillows heavily with ragged breath. Her eyes stared past him for a moment as she regained her strength.

When she made no indication she would talk, he did. Just to fill the silence he had been listening to for the past 8 hours. “They got you good.” He gently prodded at the bruising along her jaw and cheek.

Tina shook her head. “I got them better.:

Chris sat down in the chair next to the bed and crossed his arms. He wasn’t convinced. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Yeah,” she paused nervously. “So I’ve discovered.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Why did you do this without me, Tina?” Chris blurted out. Anger rose in his voice. He didn't like the fact he was scolding her just out of her sleep. But he was scared, and he thought he almost lost her. To think he could have lost his partner. His friend... “I thought I told you we’re in this together.”

She furrowed her brows together. She wrangled enough temper to have her voice match his annoyance. “And I told you, you have a family to-”

He wasn’t having none of it. “They know what I do. They know the risks. Just because you have no one to go home to doesn’t mean that no one looks out or cares for you!”

Tina visibly flinched.

The room went quiet, and it felt just as painful as the burn in her chest.

“Guess Gavin rubbed off on me?” She attempted.

“Tina...” He warned.

The woman raised a hand to card through her hair. She frowned upon the IV line that dangled from her arm. "I love you like a brother Chris. I thought...I thought I could protect you, ya know?"

“By getting yourself killed in a suicide mission? Not only did you almost die, but you also fucked the case." He placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it gently. “You can’t, Tina. Not like this. You can when you are by my side. That’s what partners do.” He gently scolded.

Dark eyes stared into those that looked back at her this way before. A small smile came to the corner of her lips. “Your dad voice is kicking in.”

Chris took his hand away to lift it into the air in exasperation. “Shit Tina, I’m serious."

She reached out for it and held it weakly. "I know. Thank you, Chris. Honest."

He rolled his eyes and looked away before they fell back on his partner. “Yeah, someone gotta do it.”

She clutched his hand, pressing a kiss to it. “Fowler's going to be so mad.”

“He already is." He quickly retorted with heat. He enjoyed the way she reacted. A good talk from the Captain always set her gay ass straight. For a little bit, anyhow. Tina thunk her head back into the pillow with an exasperated groan.

#whumptober2019 #no.10 #unconscious #violence #swearing #DBH #tina chen #chris miller #Connor #detroit become human

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dope-squish · 6 years ago

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Programmed And Damned [ RK800 Connor X Reader ] [ Detroit: Become Human ] - Chapter Four - Do You Believe In Soulmates

[ Goal - 60 Hearts/Reblogs ] [ Sorry for not updating. personal shit happened but now i'm back and i'm lowering the hearts or reblogs because why not ] [ Comments are extremely appreciated so please do comment. it makes authors feel great, i promise. it boosts our confidence ] [ Please press the heart button, the reblog button and share this fanfic to anyone and anywhere, this way, we'll more likely reach our goal ] [ Special mention to @timelizzy21 , @angsty-otters-blog , @connorshero , @divadonadance1 , @this-was-her , thank you so much for commenting *^* your comments made my day and i will continue making this story interesting so please keep reading on ][wanna make a fanart or soundtrack for the story? feel free to do so but if you ever do, please send them to me so i can post them in the future chapters so they can be appreciated]

It was basically considered a treachery when an android - a being created by humans' hands to obey orders they spout - feels any sort of emotion or anything at all but as you held a useless example of a father by his throat, the distressed crowd of humans is warm crimson blood stuttering to a halt as your fingers threaten to puncture the his rough skin - a total contrast to Autumn's which momentarily made you question about their relation - you can't help but to relish on the feeling of sickening pleasure it brought and it felt too fucking good to stop.

Ruth thrash about and put in great effort to oppose to your restraining and smothering clutch all around his bruising neck, brazenly sewing out string after strings of colorful and vibrant profanities that can and shall put a veteran sailor to shame, his livid glower zeroing solely on your monotonous facial expression. If his sight could burn as warm as the sun, then there was no ounce or a smudge of doubt that your optics would have melted. "You little plastic shit," A small but tempting part of your program felt the need to laugh at this man's chosen words - and broken speech - but realizig the gravity of the situation, you bit your tongue to refrain yourself from bursting out of laughter. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I am your owner. I control you ; you're supposed to obey me! Unhand me this instant! This is an order!"

An incredelous jeer dribbled from your sneer painted lips. An inhumane (so basically in-android? in-deviant) snarl was at risk to tear from your throat as your tongue spout out unregistered sentences from your system. "I don't take orders from anyone, and especially not from you." You spat out in disdain. "I am not a little plastic shit."

[ I AM DEVIANT ]

"I am a Deviant."

[ I AM HUMAN ]

"I am a human."

[ I AM ALIVE ]

"And," You wrenched him closer to your face until you were for certain he is aware of the warmth of your breath fanning his face. "I am alive."

Your vice grip around him was unyeilding and constricted even more so than you have ever imagined CyberLife would allow you (but then again, you are an android which serves a purpose for battling so it didn't really come much to a revelation). From this significant but effective change of strangulation, Ruth's calloused and grease tainted fingers let Autumn's silky auburn hair slide delicately through his ditt encrusted fingertips, unwillingly granting her freedom from his grasp and allowing her to flee from his ghastly intentions to lay a hand in her. Mentioned woman crawled away on all fours from her father and clumsily staggered back up on her feet, body lurching back and fro and hands blindlessly darting around her surroundings until they landed on some sort of leverage. Your enhanced pupils surveyed and calculated the enviroment enclosing Autumn's frame and the second you were guaranteed that she was safe from any form of hazardous danger, you - with a grunt in effort - inconsiderately flung Ruth as far as your arm power could conjure away from Autumn's location.

Ruth landed unpleasantly on more than a few heaps of bare containers and from the impact his stature had bestowed, their balance sense of stability became a chaotic jumble and plunged all over him, one particular box having been able to get caught on his head. A couple of men who stood standby, additionally the other Clashers - among them was Daryl's equally aggresive owner, William - scurried to Ruth's position to come to his aid. While they were being occupied with Ruth's welfare, your hand retracted from the puncture your fist constructed and outstretched it towards Daryl who immediately recoiled away from you, shrinking to what could be meraphorically described as a small mouse; traumatized to an absolute amount and thinking you were to move to harm him.

Your enhanced eyesight drifted to the microscopic wounds your android and mechanical induced body created around frail throat that were leaking with small amount of thirium. Undetectable by human eyes but noticable by androids's optics. An odd, indescribable feeling burst within the wires spreading across your body, overfilling you with the need to apologize and gain a confirming acceptance from the person included in your problem. Your system surfed throughout the web in search for an acceptable apology for someone you've almost and near deliberately harmed someone to bring them to their demise.

[ MALEWARE DETECTED :

GUILT ]

"Come on now, we don't have time to waste," You murmured under your breath and took tight hold of Daryl's hand in your own and hauled him back to his feet in one tug, steadying him as he tumbled wobbily on his two left feet. Your eyes surveyed the area and with a quick scan the surroundings, you manage to locate the oldest and rusting metal door in the arena which was your only hinderance to your desired freedom. Puckering your lips to point its idle existence, you clamored, "Over there!"

Avoiding all the pieces of what's left of the androids you callously obliterated in your state of android service for the humans - [ System Error ^ ] - you towed Daryl alongside you as your synthetic frames stood presented before the rusting door obstructing your journey to your freedom, you decreed, "Stay back."

Daryl had half the mind to part his dry lips to question your motive but his inquiry remained unspoken as he was rudely interrupted once your clenched hand made contact with the metal door, sending said object flying back to meet with the cemented wall right behind it with a booming and resounding noise within the interior of the factory that garnered the watchfulness of every being with a beating heart. Without sparing much less of an ounce of care for the destruction you've produced, you drew Daryl away from the arena and settled him behind you as your feet descended the small flight of stairs with hasty footfalls, thirium shaped footprints left staining the staircase. Daryl lurched at everg direction - threatening to fall off his footing - and had difficulty catching up with your pace yet - by some means - maintained impressive equilibrium, which you think was notable for someone having trouble inhaling. Maybe if he remembered he's technically still an android still, he would have no need to breathe.

Once your feet met the cold tiled floorings of the factory, so unlike the rough cement the arena held and as soon as your feet touched the very last staircase, they automatically brought you to where Autumn was positioned gripping her agobizingly throbbing scalp from the excruciating pain it endured from her only family. Your LED colored itself crimson red and your hand left Daryl's as it cupped Autumn's cheek gently, scanning if she sustained any fatal injuries. Your logical side was reprimanding you, telling you that you were overreacting seeing as Autumn had no evidence of red blood on any part of her nor does her clothes but you couldn't seem to find control for your motor skills.

"Autumn," Your murmured was broken from the concern injected into your tone, "Are you okay? How badly did he harm you? Can you move properly? Do you need my assisstance?"

Autumn softly took hold of the hand which held her cheek with an indescribable gentleness - which you didn't notice was quivering - and flashed you an uncertain smile as she pulled it away. She looked equally as perplexed at your uncommon display of affection. "I'm fine, [ Your Name ]," She reassured, her tone laced with scratchiness. "I'm fine," She repeated, more firmly this time around but the tragic lines of hurt on her face told you otherwise.

Your scanner made an attempt to inspect her wellbeing but for the first time, it failed to give any commonsensical information that would ease the concern blossoming in your thirium empowered artificial heart. "I apologize for my actions . . . I was, as humans say," You gulped. ". . . worried."

You didn't miss the dilation of Daryl's optics upon hearing your humiliating - as you deemed it to be - confession (the reason to your embarrassment must be coming from when you thought yourself as an unfeeling machine just a few minutes ago) as a small, jolly grin plastered on Autumn's features.

[ Autumn ^^ ]

[ Daryl ^ ]

Her beam brightened, if humanly. "Don't worry about me," She insisted.

Daryl interjected, yours and Autumn's heads snapping to his direction. "You must believe her. I scanned her. A few strands of hair was ripped off from her scalp and a mild numbing pain is present. Other than that, she's fine."

Your brows slanted as confusion positioned itself on your face. "But when I scanned her earlier - "

"She sustained no grave injuries, if that's what you're thinking." Daryl butts in. "What attained data your system received is undoubtedly an exaggeration. That's what commonly happens when an individual lets their emotions get the best of them."

The moment was cut off to a short when your proximity sensors caught a movement rapidly approaching your figure. In a swift motion, you grasped the arms of your two companions and pulled them down with you as you ducked. In unison to their bewildred yelps was the shattering of an empty bottle of beer that went overhead your frames and hit the floor with a sickening sprinkle. The surrounding crowd was chattering anxiously as they came audiences to a new scenario while some took the liberty to make use of this unfortune as an excuse to react negatively by spouting out colorful vocabularies and dangerous responses, hence the bottle.

Autumn was the first to stand, you and Daryl following suit to her actions. "That was a close one," She whimpered.

A smile threatened to appear on Darly's face - like some sort of silent agreement to her statement - but its possibility drastically went down as his sight trailed to the side. "You spoke way too soon." He spoke out in a tone you couldn't quite comprehend.

Autumn's brows furrowed in puzzlement, blinking. "W-What do you mean?"

Daryl's finger pointed and you followed its aimed direction only to locate Ruth Judge, along with the few other android Clashers all huddled together and glowering at the three of you with an intensity you cannot think was possible for any mortal to reach. From an expression you've stumbled across before in a shady website in the internet, if looks could kill, you'd be six feet below the ground by now.

Daryl faced them. "We need to go," He suggested. "As in, right now."

"No! We can't do that!" Autumn fought back, a scowl painting over her terrified expression. "We need to fight!"

A frown carved its way to Daryl's lips. "We're just wasting our time. And possibly compromising what little chance we have of surviving. We need to escape. And if you can't see, we're outnumbered."

Autumn, not one to back down on her decision, retaliates. "[ Your Name ] knows combat. That's enough. You've seen her take down those androids in the arena earlier. Humans are much more fragile and prone to injuries. We can help her fight back. We can't run away like cowards!"

He spat out, "There's nothing cowardly about wanting to survive, Autumn. It's too risky for us!"

"They're going to hurt us."

"Not if we run now." Daryl argues. "We can leave. We don't have to hurt anyone."

Uninevitably, the two faced your uncertain figure, both searching for your opinion in the matter at hand. To settld the feud, you scanned the premises and saw the probability of their suggestions.

[ Flee : 88 % ]

[ Fight : 92 % ]

You were torn between the two choices. Fleeing might be the wisest - and most pacifict - here for you had the knowledge these humans are no obstacle to you - a so called killing machine - but fighting was a display of dominance and in doing so, more humans will be less likely to chase you three after witnessing what brutality you had to initiate on them. After pondering and weighing the two options handed to you, you decided - [ Flee ]

"Your call," Autumn said so as she sent you a pointed look, as though telling you to make the correct decision. "Escape or fight back."

You took a moment to register your answer - making sure it was what you estimate as a better decision - before taking a hold of your companions' wrists and clamoring, "Let's move!" as you begin leading them through series of obstacles hindering your progress to flee from the group of men, sprinting as you rounded the large round arena in search for an escape passage.

[ Autumn / ]

[ Daryl ^^ ]

Regardless of the agitated screams tearing from the throats of countless frustrated Clashers, they were not the ones who managed to attain your undivided attention. Instead, from the corner of your eye, you took special note of the two familiar figures moving hurriedly with your pace - as though mimicking your response to run from danger - from the upper bleachers. Turning subtly to examine them more clearly, you spotted the same RK800 android sprinting - a look of programmed determination nestled on his perfectly symestrical features - with an old man with bulging stomach and untamed beard in tow who was clearly having a hard time catching up with the artificial human. Already knowing you can't extract any information from the android, your sight fleeted to the old man and scanned him for data instead.

[ Name - Hank Anderson ]

[ Occupation - Police Lieutenant ]

[ Handled Case - Deviants ]

"Fuck." The curse felt raw on your tongue as you spat it out in frustration and realization, head darting back to your main objective which was to exit the factory with Daryl and Autumn, unharmed and most importantly, alive.

"What's wrong?" Questioned Daryl as he matched your pace, brows burrowed together in concern for your outburst. "Is there something wrong?"

"A police lieutenant is chasing after us." You informed the two of them as you took a sharp turn inside a corridor, an unguarded metal door at the very end. "He has an android with him. A police android or something. They're here catching deviants."

The dilation of Autumn's frenzied amber pair of eyes was easily detected. "Deviants," She breathed out, "Like you and Daryl?"

You nod in response. "Like me and Daryl."

***

Once the trio entered a corridor and left his eyesight, a profanity spilled from Connor's lips and his pace significant quickened. "Hurry, lieutenant! They're getting away!"

"Well," An exhausted Hank huffed out as his cramping legs, damaged lungs and old age slowed him down to what Connor considered as a burden. "Try running after deviants and a very advanced prototype in my age."

Though hidden from Hank's sight, the RK800's LED bore a vibrant yellow color. "Androids don't age." Pointed out Connor in a matter-of-fact tone, to which Hank gritted his teeth to out of annoyance.

"Don't take it too seriously. I'm just stating my point." Hank retributed and soon enough, he slowed down to a stop. "Us humans aren't as indestructible and full of gasoline or thirium whatever as you are."

Connor's footsteps decelerated once registering the complaint that his human a parter spouted. "Do you want me to wait for you?"

Hank shook his head, back bent over and had one of his hand over his knee and the other dismissively waving his suggestion off like a pesky bee buzzing around. "No, no! Just go ahead and catch those deviants! I'll . . ." Hank leaned against the railing beside him, head thrown back. " . . . I'll just catch up with you."

"Got it," With an obedient nod, Connor whipped around and resumed his chase for the capture of the deviants and the female human. He scurried inside the corridors, his polished shoes slewing against the pavement and using his optics to unearth the faintest evidences of the combat android turned deviant's traces to pursue. He came to a skidding halt once a soft clink of a metal door softly closing reached his eardrums and soon enough, not a few second wasted, he found himself at the very last hallway built in the factory, and charged towards the door at the very end.

Shoving the door open with one of his calloused hand, he firmly stood at the very back of the factory where abandoned constructions machineries were laid like garbage and there - a cemented wall a few meters away from him - were numerous huge crates of different sizes where the duo of deviants and human Autumn Judge were using as makeshift stairs. New pop ups appeared on his optics.

[ Current Objective - Catch The Deviants ]

[ Side Objective - Question The Human ]

Without a single thought, Connor sprinted towards mentioned crates and as early as he calculated he was near enough, he extended his arm to reach and tightly took hold of the combat android's arm, tugging it back with all his might which caused it to stagger backwards until it fell from the crate it once stood upon and collapsed on the gravel covered groun. RK800 Connor parted his lips to reprimand the deviant of its desire to escape his clutches and the law's consequences - he could tell the deviant that it has the right to remain silent but seeing as humans' rights aren't applied with androids and deviants, it was out of the question - and surrender quietly but he nearly bit his tongue off when a swift kick was delivered to his face. Thankfully, his reflex saved him from ant damages. Before he could regain composure, a knee made contact with his chest followed by a powerful push. The thirium flowing in his thirium empowered pump temporarily stilled from the impact it endured and from that, Connor hovered a hand over his chest but kept his vice grip around its arm, unfazed as he staggered from its' assault.

"[ Your Name ]!" Autumn clamored in a moment of frenzy and made a motion to move from the highest crate to help and save the deviant - [ Your Name ] - from his duty-inclined actions but the other deviant - Daryl as it has stated earlier in the arena - was quick to hold her back and getting involved in the situation by wrapping his hand around her wrist.

[ Your Name ] moved towards him and grabbed both his arms, intending to redo its attack from earlier but already having seen it once, Connor successfully retaliated by ducking down, dodging the leg that thrusted above his head before getting back on his feet. Its leg got caught on Connor's shoulder and he used this opportunity to push forward in order to make it lose its balance and fall down and pin it helplessly to the ground. At this, it responded by letting go of both of his arms and flipped back to keep its state of balance. It's quite troublesome. Connor thought as he shot his fist towards it face but it leaned away and threw itself to the side. Connor had never encountered a deviant that could equal his intelligence and attacks, but encountering this combat android, he was proven quite wrong and if he ever had feelings, he wouldn't know how or what to feel.

"What are you doing? Let go of me! We need to help her!" Autumn cried out as she desperately tried tugging her wrist from Daryl's hold.

Daryl shook his head in disagreement. "You'll just get caught in it! We need to trust her!"

[ Your Name ] rolled towards the stack of bricks and skidded to a stop, teetering the said bricks to its precarious downfall. Connor took note of its subtle and sneaky fingers enveloping the brick that bumped against its footwear - he knew exactly what its intention was. It was too obvious to miss. Before he could process his next approach, the brick was already sent flying towards his rigid figure. In an instant, he swiped his arm to the side, the brick colliding with the synthetic skin of his forearm but his pupils dilated as a hand appeared charging to his face in a rapid speed. Though his bewildrement did not last long as the deviant wished it would. In a way to defend himself, he lifted his hand to catch the fist hurtling his direction in midair, just in time before it could cause any damage on him.

Connor's lips let a gasp slip from him, just like [ Your Name ]'s lips did once their hands connected. What information he failed to gain from the deviant was now within his grasp the second they their hands touched.

[ New Information Available ]

[ Model - AA 01 ]

[ Given Name - [ Your Name ] ]

[ Model - Combat Android ]

[ Owner - Ruth Judge ]

What on earth? Connor could see himself downloading all the information given to him but not because he wanted to or because of his purpose to acquire every single information needed to make a successfuly investigation, but because his subconsciousness wanted to. Subconsciousness, well that wasn't part of an android features and not having to run an analysis on himself, it especially wasn't part of his program. In that horrifying realization, Connor pulled away as though the combat android's hand stung him and fell to the ground with a soft thud, gawking at [ Your Name ]. It stared back at him with the same expression, LED glowing red. It must be experiencing the same thing but how come? He wanted to dwell more into this enigma but another realization dawned him - that after coming in contact with you, all his software instability disappeared in an instant. In fact, he could consider himself at peace.

"What are you waiting for? Let's fo [ Your Name ]!" Autumn hollered. Connor was idle, too stunned and too perplexed to chase after the three of them and settled only on watching as the female human dragged the combat android back up to the crates to escape the factory. Daryl jumped first, disappearing behind the wall and Autumn was next. [ Your Name ] was preparing to leap in tow with them but before it did, it spared a look back to stare at him. Connor stares back at it and said nothing as it jumped and ran off with its companions.

Connor picked up the subtle sound of the door slamming open behind him and the familiar footsteps of his partner in crime approaching him. However, he didn't look over his shoulder but rather fixated his sight on his hand which formerly held the deviant's fist. His hand was vibrating softly, as though desiring to touch and hold the deviant's hand once more. "Connor? Connor!"

Catching sight of the prototype merely sitting on the ground, Hank can't help but think of the worse and begab conjuring up ridiculous reasons as to why an android of his type was doing nothing to pursue its goal. "Are you okay? What happened? Where's the deviants? The human?" Hank questioned Connor but he was rendered shocked when an unexpected response from the RK800 reached his ears.

"Lieutenant," Connor starts as he begins looking back to stare into Hank's eyes, "Do you believe in soulmates?"

don't forget to click the heart button, reblog button and share this fanfic! wanna make a fanart or soundtrack for the fanfic? feel free to do so! please make sure to send them to me so i can post them on the next chapters so they can be appreciated [•^•].

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detroitrevivalrp-blog · 6 years ago

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Welcome one and all to Greektown’s Spring Awakening!

This weekend, Greektown Detroit’s Monroe Street will be shut down and transformed into a walkable, interactive plaza full of street food, brand pop ups shops, live music and performers, and art. And the best part? It’s free. With spring upon us and the temperatures beginning to rise even at night, there are not only opportunities for adults to come down and enjoy the night-life, but the entire family can come down and enjoy the afternoon, night, or entire weekend-- Greektown Casino Hotel, of course, makes a lovely staycation. Parking is available in the many structures surrounding the area, including Greektown Casino Hotel’s multi-level parking deck.

What began as a mere idea has turned into a sparkling reality that has exceeded all expectations, bringing together many a local business and people from all walks of life into what has become a mini festival of itself. What is predicted to draw thousands of guests into its historic streets, Greektown’s Spring Awakening pays homage to one of Detroit’s most treasured, most frequented historical locations.

Coordinated by the Greek Preservation Society and Greektown Casino Hotel.

Date: May 10-May 12

Time: 4:00 PM - 10:00 PM Friday and Saturday, 12:00 noon to 5:00 PM Sunday

Location: Greektown Detroit, along Monroe Street

FOOD: From food trucks to pop up tents of your Detroit favourites along with tables of your favourite Greektown delights, there seems to be no end to the good eats and sweets Greektown’’s Spring Awakening has to offer. Everything is well under $15 at each location, and though it can be quite dizzying to go from gyros to chocolate-covered stawberries, hot cheeto-filled tacos to even a lobster corndog, we do suggest trying everything that you can! Maybe you’ll just have to come back another day this weekend to make sure you’ve tried everything ;)

DRINKS: Michigan-made Vernors and Faygo will each have their own tables, and most if not all food ventures will offer the staples of pop and water. Most notably, DROUGHT Juice, Beyond Juice Detroit, and Dessert Oasis Coffee Roasters will be serving some of their new summer staples in small sample form as well as their regular sizes for everyone to enjoy. For the adults, local breweries such the Jolly Pumpkin, B. Nektar, Griffin Claw Brewing Company, and more will be serving $15 mini flights as well to enjoy-- with drinks like Kill all the Golfers and hot spiked cider, these drinks sure aren’t to be missed.

ENTERTAINMENT: From the Detroit Flyhouse School to live bands at intervals in the day, it is practically guaranteed that there will not be a dull moment in Greektown this weekend. Fire breathers and jugglers along with contortionists will take the stage and roam around Monroe Street, performing in different areas on Saturday. Meanwhile, live music from country and indie rock to acoustic artists will take the stage during the day before Detroit’s own favourite radio hosts and djs take control of the music at sundown, ensuring that the good times keep on rolling through the night.

ARTS, DESIGN, and INTERACTION: Watch students from the College of Creative Studies work on a new mural along one of the alleys in Greektown, or get a caricature done of the whole family! The DIA is supplying a large stretch canvas for Spring Awakening attendees to sign or add a design to throughout the weekend, and the piece of art will be displayed within Greektown’s Casino. Special backdrops will be set up against some of the sides of the buildings for those who want the ‘perfect’ backdrop for an impromptu little shoot or Instagram post as well.

SUNDAY: Detroit’s own Eastern Market will take over a portion of the venue as a pop up shop teasing what they will have to offer at their Flower Day, an expansion of the same event happening at Eastern Market the weekend afterward. Though the event next week is to spread over 15 acres, this small pop up will still offer event-goers a nearly impossible variety of flowers, trees, and shrubs, including: jasmine, daisies, lilac bushes, succulents and dozens of roses.

OUT OF CHARACTER

This event is optional and non-mandatory. If you do not believe your character would be present at all during the festivities or would not be a part of Greektown’s night life (more on that here), you do not have to place your character at this event. This is merely a good segway into characters building new, or exploring already plotted relationships. The possibilities are practically endless with this event and venue!

While the festivities only run from Friday to Saturday, writers are free to create starters, moodboards, or anything of the sort beginning Wednesday, May 8. Short paras, one-liners, and other posts will be welcome at this time. Please tag your graphics, starters, and starter calls related to the event with: #detrevawakening -- you are, of course free to use the usual starter tag #detrevstarter for your starters. It would be much appreciated if you would also timestamp your threads as well. The event will ‘end’ Wednesday, May 15, but please feel free to continue/finish your threads at your pace-- this only puts a limitation on when you can start your threads.

Please note, all companies listed can be found with a quick Google-search. Think of it as a mere reference guide as to what is/could be there at this event. There are members of Detroit Police Department at the event due to recent violence involving civilians. However, like any public event in Detroit, this is considered normal and not out of the ordinary.

#detrevevent #detrevawakening #town rp #city rp

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sexlessrpmemes · 7 years ago

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Call Me Kevin Quotes Part 2

Back at it again with the Call Me Kevin Quotes for RP purposes! These are from Detroit: Become Human but I’m in a House of Horror.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Let’s try and become more human.”

“Wait, no, I am human.”

“I don’t need to become human.”

“I like the way I say ‘human’. Not because it’s different, or anything, just because it seems to make a lot of people angry.”

“That’s just how I get my jollies.” *laughs*

“I’m gonna go upstairs and check out your house…”

“Damnit, I can never do what I want.”

“ Okay, 'in the basement’… sounds totally legit.”

“Look at this - [he]’s literally got a basement dungeon. I know exactly where this goes. I’ve been that [guy]!”

“We should leave.”

“Oh, come on! This is like something out of the Ring; there’s a feckin’ well in here!”

“Okay, you gave me the warning a little bit late, there…” *after being [caught in a trap/stabbed/etc]*

“Someone is going in the well.”

“Man, that’s not how my dreams end up - i, I have demented dreams.”

“Seriously, you wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.”

“Yes… burn! Burn!” *laughs*

“I think we’re forgetting that that.. big [dude] is waiting for us out there.”

“Not to mention that the little [dude] is actually kind of a big [dude] too… it’s just that the big [dude] is - really big.”

“I need for my prophecy to come true; someone needs to go in the well.”

“What the feck is that?!”

“Alright, ignore that, we never bloody saw what that was.”

“Okay… I just make the situation like ten times scarier.”

“We’ll grow to love each other.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, [], I found the most interesting magazine about the artic.”*laughs*

“Then why do you have a loaded shotgun?” *laughs*

“(We’ll be fine.) [He]’s at a brisk walk…” *[] falls* “Unless we fall, right??”

“Oh yes! Good [man], I knew you’d be on my side.”

“Good! Good [man], now put [him] in the well!”

“Oh yes! I released an army.”

“I feel like that zombie army might have swayed [his] opinion.”

“That went pretty well, actually!”

“I’m surprised we’re not going out to war or something - I mean, look at us.”

“We’re here infiltrating that thing, spec-ops style.”

“Wait, don’t say that - I don’t know what I have to do.”

“I’m very uncomfortable all of a sudden.” *laughs nervously*

“Oh that’s it? We’re just ending it?” *incredulous*

“That one pissed me off.”

“Definitely not my fault.”

“I imagine we’re actually getting quite far.”

“I feel like we’re making good progress.”

“(I) appreciate you as always!”

[] <- replaceable contents for the sentence to better fit; pronouns, names, etc.

() <- context given within.

#ask meme #sentence starter #for the muse #submission #quotes #detroit: become human

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nycbecomehuman · 6 years ago

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Series: Detroit: Become Human Rating: T Genre: Adventure/Drama/Action (eventual romance) Summary: Before Connor, first of the RK800 line, began his fateful investigation of deviant androids, there was Jacob, the RK700 that preceded him. He failed in his assignment, but he did not go quiet into the night when he was decommissioned. Rather, he became the thing he had once hunted and disappeared into the depths of New York City in search of a new life.

( < Back to part 1 /< Back to part 7 )

Part 8 - Unattended

The truck had carried him further than Seven had dared to hope it would by the time it exited the freeway half an hour later. He peered carefully out from under the tarp after donning his backpack once more, and was relieved to see no one else around, no doubt thanks to the hour, which meant there was no one but the driver to witness the quick exit he made from the trailer. He kept low and ducked behind the limited cover provided by a light post before peering back at the truck to see if the driver had, in fact, spotted him.

Luckily, the night seemed to be wearing on the human, and they were more occupied with stifling a yawn than noticing a rogue android appearing from the rear of their vehicle.

Seven watched the truck pull away as the light turned green before pushing to his feet and straightening the straps of his bag on his shoulders. The vehicle made a left into the dark, and the android went the opposite direction, cutting across a dimly lit parking lot to the next street over. The ride Seven had hitched had gotten him a good ways towards the nearest Greyhound station, but he still had a long walk ahead of him.

Seven walked into the wee hours of the morning, opting to avoid taking any official, trackable transportation in favor of staying off the grid on his way to the bus station. It would have taken a human longer, but being as he didn't need to stop to rest the along way, the android made good time.

Before entering, he cased the station from the shadows of an alley across the street, watching people come and go until he determined, as well as he could, that there wasn't anyone particularly suspicious within the building. The station itself did have security cameras, he realized as he stepped inside, but it took little more than a thought for him to hack into their simple, low tech system and put the feed on a loop that a casual security guard was unlikely to notice.

He acquired a bus ticket to New York with little issue, though Seven had a brief moment of worry that it might look suspicious buying one at such an hour, and in cash to boot. Fortunately, the tired looking human employee seemed incapable of caring less about what anyone else was doing so long as it wasn't making their job any harder, and said nothing more than the bare minimum needed to complete the transaction.

That done, Seven stepped aside and considered his options for a moment. There were hours to burn before his bus left, and while he could probably sit around the terminal unbothered until then, the thought of sticking in one place for so long made the android feel... antsy. Remaining still left him open to being noticed, and yet he couldn’t go far from the station either, and wandering the streets aimlessly provided its own level of risk.

Realizing that standing about was likely to attract attention, Seven shed his backpack and took a seat along the wall. The chairs would no doubt have been uncomfortable for a human, hard, plastic, and possessing inconveniently placed arm rests as they did, but the android didn’t notice as he examined the room from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses.

The bus station was a large one, and there were at least a dozen people there, some of whom appeared to be traveling with an android. To a one, all of the humans appeared tired, annoyed, or at least vaguely uncomfortable as they waited around for their buses to leave, and Seven couldn’t blame them. There was something distinctly unwelcoming about the station that the android couldn’t quite put a finger on; an almost dirty feeling despite the fact that everything at least appeared quite clean.

Another, more important, observation Seven made was the fact that almost every human had their attention either on one of the muted televisions scattered around the place, or on their phone. The android’s brow furrowed at this as his gaze drifted across the room. Eight of the twelve humans around him were actively looking at their phones, and the rest at least checked them occasionally, causing Seven to come to a new conclusion.

If he was going to blend in, he was going to need a phone of his own.

Sure, he didn’t technically need one; advanced as his system was, he could access wireless and cellular networks with a thought, after all. Watching the humans around the station, however, Seven had to acknowledge that his complete lack of one would seem strange to the outside observer in this day and age.

Seven closed his eyes and sank down in his chair a little until his head rested against the wall as he cradled his bag loosely against him to keep someone from running off with it, then considered his mission to-do list again. After a moment, he zeroed in on one point in particular.

Bullet point three: Find a disguise that would allow him to blend in with the human population.

Below that he added a few new sub-points:

Acquire cell phone

Acquire further clothing as possible

Synthetic as he was, Seven didn’t have to worry about his own physiology dirtying the clothes he had acquired, but that didn’t mean the world around him wouldn’t. Not to mention the fact that wearing nice slacks with a hoodie and sunglasses was a bit of a strange look. His shoes were also very good quality, and considering he was probably going to need to lay low in some of the less savory parts of New York City when he got there, the last thing he needed was to get jumped for his footwear.

A quick internet search revealed that there was a Goodwill within reasonable walking distance, though it wouldn’t be open again for some time yet, along with anywhere nearby he might acquire a cheap phone. Plan once again in place, Seven set himself an internal alarm, then went into sleep mode to save power, though put his proximity sensors on high alert so he would wake if anyone strayed too close for comfort.

He ‘woke’ once before his alarm went off when a rogue toddler strayed from her parent’s side and into his personal bubble, bringing him rocketing back to active consciousness faster than most could blink, though an outside observer wouldn’t have been able to tell just by looking. Seven didn’t so much as twitch until he registered who the ‘intruder’ was, at which point he raised one eyebrow at the child, who proceeded to make a beeline for his side.

The android watched her as she proceeded to climb, with a great deal of effort and grunting, up onto the seat next to his then sat with a look of great satisfaction. The child pushed some stray strands of hair back from her face with one small hand, then turned and looked at him with a brilliant smile that was missing a few teeth.

“Hi!” she proclaimed.

Seven blinked. “Hello,” he said after a moment, then looked around for the child’s parent in hope that they might even then be coming to claim her. Seeing no one moving in his direction, he asked the child. “Where’s your mom?”

The little girl shrugged, a large motion that ended with her hands up by her head.

Great. “How about your dad?” he hazarded hopefully and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he straightened some in his seat. The action drew the girl’s attention to his face and without warning, she leaned forward with one sticky looking hand as though to grab his glasses. Seven immediately leaned back out of her reach. “Please don’t,” he said. It occurred to him that he could simply get up and walk away from the child, but on the other hand, his morality program signaled that ‘leaving a child unattended’ was not acceptable behavior in a human.

So what exactly was this child’s parent doing, then?

It didn’t matter his human relations programming chimed in, it simply ‘wasn’t done’, even though he had no actual responsibility to the child in question.

The little girl pouted at his reticence and asked, “Why?”

“Because I need them.”

“Why?”

“Because the light hurts my eyes.”

“Why?”

Seven squinted at the child from behind the sunglasses in question, who almost seemed to be repeating herself arbitrarily by that point. “I doubt you’d understand if I explained,” he said archly.

“Why?” she asked, blinking up at him with big, bright eyes. She was far too awake considering the hour, he decided.

The android sighed and sagged back down in his seat once more, resigning himself to playing along for the time being. “Because you’re a child with, no doubt, limited comprehension of bio-” he hesitated before finishing with ‘components’. Yes, she was only a child, but children, his programming told him, often repeated things they overheard, even if they didn’t actually comprehend it. “-logy. Biology.”

“Oh,” she replied, which made Seven heave a sigh of relief. “What’s bialahgy?”

“Biology,” he corrected automatically.

“Biahlowgy,” the child hazarded, brow furrowed in concentration.

Seven quirked a brow and leaned in a little. “Bi-ohl-oh-gee,” he repeated slowly for her benefit.

The little girl watched him closely as he spoke, then repeated “Bi-ology.”

“Good job, kid,” Seven said with a upward quirk of his lips, and she grinned.

“What’s biology?”

Moment of victory short lived, the android sighed again and eventually replied, “It’s a kind of science.”

“Oh. My daddy does science!” the girl said proudly, then reached into one of her pockets and produced a jolly rancher.

“Is your daddy here?” Seven asked quickly, latching onto the subject like a man to a lifeline even as the girl scrunched up her face at the candy in her hand, then proceeded to offer it to him.

“I don’t like green ones,” she said simply, still holding it out towards Seven, who looked at it for a moment, then took it from her.

“Why?” he asked her.

“They’re gross.”

Seven’s mouth twisted into a wry smile, “So you’re giving me the gross one, huh?”

“Yep,” the child said nonchalantly as she rummaged in her pocket a second time and came up with what was apparently a more acceptable flavor, then unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. The android huffed lightly, then did the same with the ‘gross’ flavor she had pressed upon him, and was pleased to find that it wasn’t really gross at all.

Sharp movement across the room drew Seven’s attention as a man stood up abruptly and began looking around, bewildered. Not seeing what he was looking for, he bent over and picked up two bags, one not unlike the android’s own, and another, small and bright pink.

Ah.

Seven rolled the jolly rancher around his mouth, then leaned over and pointed towards the increasingly frantic man. “Is that your dad?”

The little girl looked up and saw who he was pointing at, then smiled. “Yep!”

“How about we go see him? I think he’s worried,” the android suggested, then got to his feet and slung his own bag over his shoulder.

The child seemed to consider this, then finally nodded and said, “Okay,” before sliding off the seat she’d commandeered.

Before Seven could even take a step in the right direction, he felt a small hand grab his own, making him look down in surprise at the sudden contact. He was still wearing his gloves, but her little fingers were warm around his own, though luckily, not as sticky as they had first appeared.

“Okay,” he said as his system shifted gears to this new development. Reflexively, he lightly gripped her hand in turn, then lead the child towards her father. The man glanced up as Seven approached, and the look of relief that washed over his haggard features almost made the android pause mid-stride.

“Emily!”

“Hi, daddy!” the girl said brightly, the distress she had clearly caused her father going right over her head even as the man swept her up in his arms and gave her a squeeze that made her squeak in complaint.

“Thank you so much, I’m so sorry if she bothered you,” the man said with a grateful, embarrassed smile over his daughter’s head as he looked at Seven. “I swear I only drifted off for a minute,” he said, sounding just as exhausted as he looked.

Seven’s first impulse was to point out that his daughter had been with him for more than a single minute, but he checked the urge and instead, said, “Don’t worry about it,” then left it at that. He turned and went back to his seat, and as he settled in again, the android glanced in their direction to see the girl looking at him. She waved, and after a moment’s hesitation, he returned the gesture.

(TBC)

((Thanks for reading, guys, reblogs are always appreciated to help get this out to more people too! Make sure to leave a comment letting me know what your favorite part was, I love hearing that from my readers!

If you really enjoyed it, consider buying me a ko-fi?))

#nyc become human #detroit become human #dbh #dbh fanfic #rk700 #jolie writes

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 6 years ago

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My Fictional Others

Here are all the lovelies who own my heart, the ones I’m primarily with are italicized, bolded are mains. DD gets his own section since he owns my heart more than anyone, all his roles are comfort F/Os, top 5 are italicized.

~~~~~

David Dastmalchian’s Roles

Abner Krill - The Suicide Squad (first love, true love)

Abra Kadabra - The Flash (I can fix him but I don’t wanna)

Bob Taylor - Prisoners (I love him, I will take care of him)

Dwight Pollard - Gotham (so feral I wanna bite him)

Jack Delroy - Late Night With the Devil (I’d sell my soul for him)

James Lewis - Teacher (I’ll protect him from everyone)

Johnson - Reprisal (literal love of my life)

Joshua Whitmore - Cass (married~ we can draw and visit museums forever)

Kurt - MCU (married~ his hand tats will someday drive me bucknutty)

Lightning - AfrAId (I'm going to take care of him)

Murdoc - MacGyver 2016 (he can make me worse any day)

Simon Lynch - Almost Human (literally hand holding would fix him)

The Writer - Making Love (I will love him until he’s ready to leave his cell)

Wojchek - The Last Voyage of the Demeter (my jolly sailor bold)

Movies

Frozen

Elsa (comfort!!!)

Insidious

Josh Lambert (my husband!!)

Stanley Uris (comfort entirely, but ships with 2019 version strictly!!)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Bucky Barnes (comfort!!!)

Of Mice and Men

George Milton (comfort)

The Boy

Brahms Heelshire

The Conjuring

Ed Warren

Titanic

Jack Dawson (comfort and bf since I was like 5)

Shows

Game of Thrones

Jon Snow

Gravity Falls

Stan Pines

Marble Hornets

Jay Merrick (comfort)

Mr. Robot

Elliot Alderson

Mr. Robot

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Fluttershy (comfort!!)

Reprisal

Ethan Hart (comfort!)

Matty (comfort!!!)

Spy x Family

Yor Forger

Super Sonico

Sonico (my wife!!)

Supernatural

Castiel

Gabriel

Sam Winchester

Twin Peaks

Dale Cooper (comfort!)

Games

Bioshock

Atlas (comfort!!)

Frank Fontaine

Detroit: Become Human

Connor (comfort!)

Half-Life 2

Alyx

Barney

Left4Dead2

Nick (comfort!!)

#my fictional others

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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The Lure of H Mart, Where the Shelves Can Seem as Wide as Asia At the H Mart on Broadway at 110th Street in Manhattan, the lights are bright on the singo pears, round as apples and kept snug in white mesh, so their skin won’t bruise. Here are radishes in hot pink and winter white, gnarled ginseng grown in Wisconsin, broad perilla leaves with notched edges, and almost every kind of Asian green: yu choy, bok choy, ong choy, hon choy, aa choy, wawa choy, gai lan, sook got. The theme is abundance — chiles from fat little thumbs to witchy fingers, bulk bins of fish balls, live lobsters brooding in blue tanks, a library of tofu. Cuckoo rice cookers gleam from the shelves like a showroom of Aston Martins. Customers fill baskets with wands of lemongrass, dried silvery anchovies, shrimp chips and Wagyu beef sliced into delicate petals. For decades in America, this kind of shopping was a pilgrimage. Asian-Americans couldn’t just pop into the local Kroger or Piggly Wiggly for a bottle of fish sauce. To make the foods of their heritage, they often had to seek out the lone Asian grocery in town, which was salvation — even if cramped and dingy, with scuffed linoleum underfoot and bags of rice slumped in a corner. Il Yeon Kwon, a farmer’s son who left South Korea in the late 1970s when the countryside was still impoverished from war, opened the first H Mart in Woodside, Queens, in 1982. It was the middle of a recession. At the time, only about 1.5 percent of the American population was of Asian descent. Later that year, Vincent Chin, a Chinese-American, was beaten to death in Detroit by two white autoworkers who were reportedly angered by the success of the Japanese car industry. Asian-Americans, a disparate group of many origins that had historically not been recognized as a political force, came together to condemn the killing and speak in a collective voice. Today, as they again confront hate-fueled violence, Asian-Americans are the nation’s fastest-growing racial or ethnic group, numbering more than 22 million, nearly 7 percent of the total population. And there are 102 H Marts across the land, with vast refrigerated cases devoted to kimchi and banchan, the side dishes essential to any Korean meal. In 2020, the company reported $1.5 billion in sales. Later this year, it’s set to open its largest outpost yet, in a space in Orlando, Fla., that is nearly the size of four football fields. And H Mart has competition: Other grocery chains that specialize in ingredients from Asia include Patel Brothers (Patel Bros, to fans), founded in Chicago; and, headquartered in California, Mitsuwa Marketplace and 99 Ranch Market — or Ranch 99, as Chinese speakers sometimes call it. They’re part of a so-called ethnic or international supermarket sector estimated to be worth $46.1 billion, a small but growing percentage of the more than $653 billion American grocery industry. Many of these chains have a particular focus (H Mart’s is Korean products), but also attempt the difficult feat of catering to a variety of Asian-American groups with different tastes and shopping preferences. Mr. Kwon’s first store still stands in Woodside, with a blue awning that bears H Mart’s original name, Han Ah Reum. This is commonly translated from Korean as “an armful,” but has a poetic nuance, invoking warmth and care, as in an embrace. H Mart is “a beautiful, holy place,” writes the musician Michelle Zauner, who performs under the name Japanese Breakfast, in her new memoir, “Crying in H Mart,” published last month. The book begins with her standing in front of the banchan refrigerators, mourning the death of her Korean-born mother. “We’re all searching for a piece of home, or a piece of ourselves.” As the 20th-century philosopher Lin Yutang wrote, “What is patriotism but the love of the food one ate as a child?” For an immigrant, cooking can be a way to anchor yourself in a world suddenly askew. There is no end to the lengths some might go to taste once more that birthday spoonful of Korean miyeok guk, a soup dense with seaweed, slippery on the tongue, or the faintly bitter undertow of beef bile in Laotian laap diip (raw beef salad). When Vilailuck Teigen — the co-author, with Garrett Snyder, of “The Pepper Thai Cookbook,” out in April — was a young mother in western Utah in the 1980s, she ordered 50-pound bags of rice by mail and drove 150 miles to Salt Lake City to buy chiles. She had no mortar and pestle, so she crushed spices with the bottom of a fish-sauce bottle. Around the same time, Thip Athakhanh, 39, the chef of Snackboxe Bistro in Atlanta, was a child in a small town in east-central Alabama, where her family settled after fleeing Laos as refugees. They fermented their own fish sauce, and her father made a weekly trek to Atlanta to pick up lemongrass and galangal at the international farmers’ market. The essayist Jay Caspian Kang has described Americans of Asian descent as “the loneliest Americans.” Even after the government eased restrictions on immigration from Asia in 1965, being an Asian-American outside major cities often meant living in isolation — the only Asian family in town, the only Asian child at school. A grocery store could be a lifeline. When the writer Jenny Han, 40, was growing up in Richmond, Va., in the ’90s, her family shopped at the hole-in-the-wall Oriental Market, run by a woman at their church. It was the one place where they could load up on toasted sesame oil and rent VHS tapes of Korean dramas, waiting to pounce when someone returned a missing episode. A few states away, the future YouTube cooking star Emily Kim — better known as Maangchi — was newly arrived in Columbia, Mo., with a stash of meju, bricks of dried soybean paste, hidden at the bottom of her bag. She was worried that in her new American home she wouldn’t be able to find such essentials. Then she stumbled on a tiny shop, also called Oriental Market. One day the Korean woman at the counter invited her to stay for a bowl of soup her husband had just made. “She was my friend,” Maangchi recalled. The H Mart of today may be a colossus, but it remains a family business. Mr. Kwon, 66, has two children with Elizabeth Kwon, 59, who grew up two blocks from the Woodside shop (where her mother still lives) and oversees store design. From the beginning, it was important to her that the stores were clean, modern and easy to navigate, to defy the stereotype of Asian groceries as grimy and run-down. “It’s so emotional, shopping for food,” said her son, Brian Kwon, 34. “You don’t want to be in a place where you feel like you’re compromising.” He never intended to devote his life to the store. But not long after he went abroad to take a job in Seoul — seeking to improve his Korean — his father asked him to come home and look over the company’s books, to make sure everything was running smoothly. It was, as Mr. Kim of the Canadian TV show “Kim’s Convenience” might say, a sneak attack. Once Brian Kwon entered the office, he never left. “My father called it his ‘golden plan,’ after the fact,” he said ruefully. He is now a co-president, alongside his mother and his sister, Stacey, 33. (His father is the chief executive.) For many non-Asian customers, H Mart is itself a sneak attack. On their first visit, they’re not actually looking for Asian ingredients; customer data shows that they’re drawn instead to the variety and freshness of more familiar produce, seafood and meat. Only later do they start examining bags of Jolly Pong, a sweet puffed-wheat snack, and red-foil-capped bottles of Yakult — a fermented milk drink that sold out after it appeared in Ms. Han’s best-selling novel-turned-movie “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before.” To be welcoming to non-Koreans, H Mart puts up signs in English. At the same time, the younger Mr. Kwon said, “We don’t want to be the gentrified store.” So while some non-Asians recoil from the tanks of lobsters, the Kwons are committed to offering live seafood. Deuki Hong, 31, the chef and founder of the Sunday Family Hospitality Group, in San Francisco, remembers the H Mart of his youth in New Jersey as “just the Korean store” — a sanctuary for his parents, recent immigrants still not at ease in English. Everyone spoke Korean, and all that banchan was a relief: His mother would pack them in her cart for dinner, then pretend she’d made them herself. Later, as a teenager, he started seeing his Chinese- and Filipino-American friends there, too, and then his non-Asian friends. Spurred by postings on social media, young patrons would line up to buy the latest snack sensation — “the snack aisle is notorious,” Mr. Hong said — like Haitai honey butter chips and Xiao Mei boba ice cream bars. (The current craze: Orion chocolate-churro-flavored snacks that look like baby turtles.) In “Mister Jiu’s in Chinatown,” a new cookbook by the chef Brandon Jew and Tienlon Ho, Mr. Jew, 41, recalls Sunday mornings in San Francisco with his ying ying (paternal grandmother in Cantonese), taking three bus transfers to traverse the city, on a mission for fresh chicken — sometimes slaughtered on the spot — and ingredients like pea shoots and lotus leaves. He still prefers “that Old World kind of shopping,” he said, from independent vendors, each with his own specialties and occasional grouchiness and eccentricities. But he knows that the proliferation of supermarkets like H Mart and 99 Ranch makes it easier for newcomers to Asian food to recreate his recipes. “Access to those ingredients leads to a deeper understanding of the cuisine,” he said. “And that in turn can become a deeper understanding of a community and a culture.” These days, even mainstream markets carry Asian ingredients. Ms. Teigen, who now lives in Los Angeles, often buys basics like fish sauce, palm sugar and curry paste from the Thai section at Ralph’s. Still, she goes to 99 Ranch for coconut milk, whole jackfruit and, above all, garlic in bulk — “a giant bag that I can use for months.” (Garlic is an urgent matter for Asian-Americans: Ms. Zauner, 32, writes in “Crying in H Mart” that the store is “the only place where you can find a giant vat of peeled garlic, because it’s the only place that truly understands how much garlic you’ll need for the kind of food your people eat.”) But Meherwan Irani, 51, the chef of Chai Pani in Asheville, N.C., and Atlanta, feels that something is lost when you buy paneer and grass-fed ghee at a Whole Foods Market. You miss the cultural immersion, he says, “getting a dunk and having horizons broadened.” “An Indian grocery is not just a convenience — it’s a temple,” he said. “You’re feeding the soul. Come in and pick up on the energy.” In the TV special “Luda Can’t Cook,” which premiered in February, Mr. Irani takes the rapper Ludacris to Cherians, an Indian supermarket in Atlanta. Once Mr. Irani had to scrounge for spices like cumin and turmeric at health food stores; now, surrounded by burlap sacks stuffed with cardamom pods and dried green mango, he tells Ludacris, “This is my house.” The writer Min Jin Lee, 52, remembers how important H Mart was to people working in Manhattan’s Koreatown in the ’80s, when it was still called Han Ah Reum and “tiny, with almost no place to negotiate yourself through the aisles,” she said. (It has since moved across West 32nd Street to a larger space.) Her parents ran a jewelry wholesale business around the corner, and relied on the store for a cheap but substantial dosirak (lunch box) that came with cups of soup and rice. She sees the modern incarnation of the store as a boon for second- and third-generation Korean Americans, including thousands of Korean-born adoptees raised by white American parents, who “want to find some sort of connection to the food of their families,” she said. “There aren’t gatekeepers to say who’s in or who’s out.” Maangchi moved to Manhattan in 2008, and used to buy most of her ingredients from one of the H Marts in Flushing, Queens. (These days she just walks to Koreatown.) To save money, she would take the subway, bringing an empty backpack and her own shopping cart, then walk for 20 minutes. “Once I get there, my heart is beating,” she said. On the way home, she’d stop at a barbecue spot and drink soju. “Come home drunk,” she said with a laugh. Sometimes when she’s at H Mart, one of her more than five million YouTube subscribers recognizes her and flags her down. Those seeking advice (or a photo op) are mostly non-Korean. But, she said, there are also “old ladies who come up to me and say, ‘I forgot everything — I left Korea long ago.’” Recently, with the rise in incidents of violence against people of Asian descent, her fans have been sending her messages: “Maangchi, I’m so worried about you these days.” This is the paradox: that at a time when Americans are embracing Asian culture as never before, at least in its most accessible forms — eating ramen, drinking chai, swooning over the K-pop band BTS — anti-Asian sentiment is growing. With visibility comes risk. For Ms. Lee, this makes H Mart a comfort. “I like going there because I feel good there,” she said. “In the context of hatred against my community, to see part of my culture being valued — it’s exceptional.” Source link Orbem News #Asia #lure #Mart #Shelves #WIDE

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michaelfallcon · 5 years ago

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The Sprudge Coffee Guide To Buffalo, New York

A true giant of America’s manufacturing past, the city of Buffalo is, like so many other post-industrial cities, coming back into its own after some tough times. After its boom period in the late 19th and early 20th century, when its proximity to Lake Erie and the hydroelectric power of Niagara Falls made it a commercial and industrial hub, the city suffered in the depths of the Great Depression. The flight of manufacturing jobs in the latter part of the 20th century caused a population fall of over 50%, a downturn that the city has only recently begun to recover from. And of course, there are the winters.

Modern Buffalo, like other formerly industrial cities such as Philadelphia, Detroit, and Pittsburgh, is embracing its past as it looks to the future: new businesses are occupying old buildings, a cutting-edge medical campus is attracting students from all over, and most importantly the coffee scene, once a relative wasteland, is surging.

There are still the old favorites like SPoT Coffee whose Buffalo location, after much upheaval, recently became one of only a few unionized coffee shops in the country. But around them a new and eclectic breed of cafes is starting to populate the city, each putting their own spin on Buffalo’s distinctive spirit.

As with all major cities, it’s impossible to list every coffee shop, but here are five of Buffalo’s best to get you started.

Public Espresso

Situating fancy coffee shops within hotels is a growing (and sensible) trend. Hotels have notoriously bad coffee, so it makes sense to hand over the reins to people who know what they’re doing. The gang at Public Espresso knows their stuff and, unlike many hotel coffee collaborations, this isn’t a mere lobby kiosk or tacked-on afterthought: their flagship location is a full-scale cafe and bakery within the historic Lafayette Hotel in downtown Buffalo.

The cafe, big and airy, makes good use of the hotel’s elegant architectural lines. It boasts a Bellwether emissionless coffee roaster in one corner, providing the coffee that goes with the real star of the show here: the donuts. A full kitchen/bakery behind the bar provides an inventive and ever-changing lineup of donuts (think flavors like vegan “cocoa crispy dipped” and Earl Grey lemon), crullers, and other baked goods in addition to an all-day breakfast and lunch menu. The huge bar area features a three group Slayer espresso machine, Mahlkönig PEAK and EK43 grinders, and Hario V60 drippers for manual brew.

In addition to its hotel home, Public recently opened a second location in the Shea’s Seneca redevelopment in South Buffalo and also continues to pay homage to its itinerant roots by popping up at farmers markets, weddings, and other events around the city.

Public Espresso has multiple locations in Buffalo. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Caffeology

On Buffalo’s north side, in a neighborhood abutting the huge Buffalo Niagara Medical Campus, Caffeology is a community coffee shop in the truest sense. Owner Hamada Saleh blends the old with the new, offering a welcoming space replete with hand-written menus alongside a decidedly diverse approach to coffee. Seven different brew methods are available, from siphon to Turkish coffee, and Caffeology also boasts several specialty lattes—Buffalo Truffle, anyone?—to tempt those looking for something sweeter.

The cafe space, with its warm lighting, burlap-covered stools, and eclectic decor, is inviting and comfortable in a way that many modern coffee shops are not. Espresso is brewed on a Nuova Simonelli Aurelia II, and alongside the array of manual brewing equipment is FETCO batch-brewed coffee to keep the medical students happy as they make their way to and from campus.

For such a small shop, Caffeology also features a substantial food menu—an oft-rotating range of hearty soups, bagels, sandwiches, and baked goods complements the coffee selection and encourages customers to linger.

Caffeology is located at 23 Allen St, Buffalo. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Overwinter Coffee

Having started as a wholesale roasting company a few years ago, Overwinter Coffee owners Ben Trojan and Joshua Halliman opened their bricks and mortar store in 2018 and are already planning an expansion. Their 375-square-foot cafe on Genesee Street in downtown has room for just a few seats (coffee is, understandably, roasted off-site) but takes advantage of the foot traffic from nearby offices. The cafe, while small, is warm and welcoming on a cold winter’s day—the window seats are a particularly coveted spot to watch the city go by.

Espresso drinks are prepared on a La Marzocco GB5, with support from Mazzer Super Jolly and Robur grinders. Bee House drippers take care of manual brew and a Marco Jet6 Twin brewer serves up batch drip coffee, while food options are provided by local companies—pastries by Fairy Cakes Cupcakery and biscottis by Biscotti For Everybotti.

For those looking forward to the shop’s next location, Overwinter’s second cafe will open in the spring in Elmwood Village, allowing for more seating and, alongside their wholesale roasting business, an expanded presence in the Buffalo coffee scene.

Overwinter Coffee is located at 9 Genesee St, Buffalo. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Remedy House

Inspired by the all-day cafes of Paris, Remedy House keeps everybody happy by serving coffee all day and cocktails all night—a customer could conceivably enjoy their morning coffee and end up staying until last orders.

Occupying a unique wedge-shaped building at the confluence of Rhode Island and West Utica Streets, Remedy House has become a favorite in the Five Points neighborhood since opening in 2017. The space is small, but with high ceilings and windows running along two sides it feels much larger. Continuing the Parisian cafe theme, occupancy is boosted in warmer months by abundant sidewalk seating under brightly colored awnings.

Remedy House serves coffee from Toronto-based Propeller Coffee Company and occasional guests, with espresso brewed on a La Marzocco Strada and ground on a Mahlkönig K30 Twin. There’s batch brew too, and manual brewing via AeroPress and Hario V60. An extensive, all-day food menu is also on offer, with seasonally rotating items ranging from breakfast sandwiches to soups and cheese boards. A thoughtfully curated alcohol menu rounds things out, with natural wines and local breweries taking pride of place alongside creative cocktails.

Remedy House is located at 429 Rhode Island St, Buffalo. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Tipico Coffee

Located in a former grocery store in a residential part of Buffalo’s West Side, Tipico Coffee epitomizes the neighborhood cafe. Founded in 2015 by Intelligentsia and Gimme! Coffee alumnus Jesse Crouse, Tipico boasts what is believed to be North America’s largest kachelofen, a built-in masonry heater, running along one wall. Its intricate decoration makes it a focal point for the cafe, and its use as a bench makes it perfect for those freezing Buffalo winter mornings.

The rest of the interior has a lot to live up to and goes for the classic coffee shop style of exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and big windows (these open in summer to let the space meld with the outdoors).

Tipico’s coffee is roasted a few blocks away on a Diedrich IR-12 and brewed via a La Marzocco Linea EE for espresso, FETCO for batch brew, and Kalita Wave for pour-over. Also on tap are two cold brew options: classic and coco (that would be lightly sweetened cold brew and house-made coconut milk). For those who like something to eat alongside their beverage, a sturdy selection of toasts and sandwiches balance out the coffee offerings. Adding to the theme, Tipico plans to open a second location in the spring which, like Overwinter’s new space, will be in Elmwood Village.

From the look of things, Buffalo’s coffee future is in good hands.

Tipico Coffee is located at 128 Fargo Ave, Buffalo. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Fionn Pooler is a journalist based in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and the publisher of The Pourover. Read more Fionn Pooler on Sprudge.

The Sprudge Coffee Guide To Buffalo, New York published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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