#mostly it's not noticeable through the colorful portions but it makes the paper white look like i painted it with a palette knife

[cjgladback]

My mom requested fridge art from her daughters. And I'd already sketched one siren a bit after first seeing that one post, but that composition definitely will require the layers afforded by digital painting. So behold! A fire engine and its siren. Not too shabby for both my yellow and red markers giving up the ghost while I wasn't paying attention the last few years.

(This is the first time I've really seen how Tumblr size compression can murder a gif, but it wasn't at all helpful at the 540px width so click for quality.)

I did color in the wipers I'd forgotten and make the emblem on the door slightly more legible while editing my phone pic.

Image descriptions under the cut:

[ID: First image is a colorful drawing of a fire engine seen in three-quarters profile, driving toward camera left. On the roof of the truck's cab is a rough rock formation with a large mermaid lying on it, her tail draped down between the cab and trailer of the truck, her left arm pressing against the rocks, and her head held high while she speaks into a megaphone in her right hand. Her hair streams behind her toward a spiky word bubble with a zigzagged electronic tail that reads, "Get out th'way!" in all-caps. The headlights and amber light bar above the truck windshield are all on and the pavement and traffic lines below are represented with horizontal slashes of marker. The drawing is inked with even, thin black lines (a micron pen size 02) and colored with varied hatching with non-blending markers. On close inspection, the emblem on the fire engine's door reads "escucha las sirenas" in all-caps, Spanish for both "listen to the sirens" and "listen to the mermaids."

Second image is a gif of phone camera pictures showing six stages of the fire engine siren process and the final digital edit. First pencil sketch; second all but the lettering inked; third all but the lettering pencil marks erased; fourth inked word bubble with more emphatic italicized lettering; fifth the beginning layers of marker where the artist took a break with some yellow-orange, light red-orange, light blue, and periwinkle mostly over the truck cab; sixth the fully colored phone picture; and finally the edited shot with the white of the page and vibrancy of the colors restored as well as a coloring in the space around the door emblem with a brighter red for readable contrast. End ID]

[lillytalons]

How Many Suns to Know Someone

Read on Ao3

“General, sir!”

“At ease Commander. What can I do for you?” Obi-wan looked at the clone in front of him. He had the visor and pauldron of a commander, but no other signifiers. Standard weapons, stood strictly at attention, with his hand up in a salute. He lowered his arm but kept the stance, not at ease at all. 

“Sir, I am assigned as your commander in the 7th Sky Corps.”

“Ah, excellent. I’m Obi-wan Kenobi. I assume you were just promoted?” Obi-wan tried to give a comforting smile, but the clone in front of him didn’t appear to react. He pushed the datapads on his desk away from him slightly to show his full attention to the commander.

“Yes, sir. I was senior commander of the 425th until CC-1104 died a few weeks into the war. I was promoted to commander of the 104th.”

“I’m glad to have you, we have a lot to organize and do. The war is picking up quickly.” The Commander didn’t say anything, just gave a short nod. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, Commander…”

“CC-2224, sir.”

Obi-wan stopped a grimace from coming to his face, naming sentient men like units of droids was unfortunate at best, oppressive at worst. Obi-wan had heard some of the men use other names, but it was always at the edge of his hearing. In front of him the men always used their number designations or rank. 

“Alright, CC-2224. Have you settled in yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, I can have someone show you to your quarters if you would like. Dinner will be in the mess soon.”

“I can find my way, General.”

Obi-wan nodded. “We leave at 0800 tomorrow. Briefing on the bridge at 0830.”

“Yes, sir.” The commander snapped off another salute and let himself out. Obi-wan sighed as he dove back into paper work, untangling the mess of the 7th Sky Corps was going to take an effort.

“Ah, Commander. Are we ready to depart?” Obi-wan glanced at the chrono on the wall and noted it was still 10 to 8. 

“Yes, General.” Commander CC-2224 saluted and the stood stiffly near the holotable that Obi-wan had loaded with the overview of the galaxy deployment. It was still messy and overlapping as the council worked to load up fleets and organize defenses. The 7th Sky Corps was mostly in place, other than his still unnamed flagship which was currently above Coruscant where it had been waiting for him, his commander, and final stocking for part of the fleet. 

“Good.” Obi-wan turned another clone on the bridge. “Depart when ready, Captain.”

Obi-wan studied the Commander across from him, but much like the day before, he had few identifying marks. His armor was mostly clean, meaning he either hadn’t been in the beginning skirmishes of the war or he was meticulous and lucky. Perhaps he had been stationed away from the ground fighting. He had the yellow stripes of a commander down his helmet and the sides of his arms. Obi-wan hadn’t seen his face yet, but as a clone there wouldn’t be much if anything to distinguish his face from others. 

“Unfortunately, Commander, the others aren’t as punctual as you, we’ll have to wait for them to start the briefing. You are free to leave and return in a half an hour if you wish. I’ll be here running logistics I’m afraid.”

Obi-wan could see the twitch of his commander, clearly holding back a comment or question. 

“Yes, Commander?”

“Where will the 7th Sky Corps be deployed, sir?”

“That is part of the problem. We don’t know. As of now, the 3rd System Army is going to cover a portion of the Mid Rim. The Jedi Council has asked my help in organizing basic deployment based on my, shall we call it prior experience. Within that, we have to deploy corps successfully, though some will be deployed with specialized goals, others are more general. 

“Beyond that many of the armies and corps are in disarray with limited Jedi to assign and with my understanding there were many commanders lost in the battle of Geonosis. Another Master was given command of the Sky Corps temporarily, but was not as efficient as expected. It’s a mess, one that I could use your expertise in sorting through if you would be willing.”

“Of course, sir. That’s what we’re trained for.” CC-2224 walked closer to the map, studying it, and after a moment to let him analyze it, Obi-wan expanded the view of where the Sky Corp was going to be. 

“When the others arrive for the brief I have information of specific planets we need to cover immediately, but we need a preliminary plan to move forward.”

The commander studied the planets and the few ships clustered in an unorganized and inefficient couple of groups. “Sir…”

“Yes?” Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at the clone, he could feel his hesitancy in the force like a stutter. 

“What is the current plan from the Council? It doesn’t make sense for all of those ships to be so bunched together. They aren’t effective. Sir.” He tacked on the last bit, seeming to realize his blunder of criticizing commanding officers. 

“There isn’t one. Master Vexa was sent to start organizing, and he had a commander to assist, but unfortunately they were sent to a skirmish in the Mid-rim immediately, and the commander was killed, along with other high ranking officers. Master Vexa was recalled to another unit when I was able to take charge of the army and the Corps. They never had time to complete organization of the Corps, and all of the officers left were equal in rank as well as not being Jedi. There was no one to truly take charge.” Obi-wan sighed quietly but straightened his shoulders, damage had already been done, it was up to him to fix it. 

The commander shifted slightly and nodded after a very long moment to digest the information. “Yes, sir.”

“What about you Commander, you said you were with the 104th? Which Jedi were you with again?”

“I was with General Koon, sir.” Obi-wan hated trying to read the men through armor, there were very few ticks, CC-2224 hardly even twitched a finger. It was like talking to a droid. Except that most droids were idiots. He of course had the force, but the men were tightly controlled and quickly mastered their emotions. 

Obi-wan started shifting ships holographically to new locations, slowly expanding the coverage. “And why was there a transfer, problems with Master Koon?” He kept the question casual, but he was curious. Master Koon was a very easy going and talented Jedi. Problems with him could be indicative of his commander. Though of course he was too easy going for some people. They saw his soft nature and assumed it meant lesser skills.

“No, sir.” The clone’s voice sounded even tighter than usual. “His chosen personal battalion specializes in flight missions. CC-3636 is better than me at leading and flying in those kinds of missions, but he was finishing specialized command training until last week. I was informed of my transfer to your command yesterday.”

“Thoughts on the deployment, Commander?” Obi-wan gestured to the holomap where he had been manipulating ships. 

“The 4th quadrant is along hyperspace lanes leading to the Outer Rim, it would benefit from a heavier presence, sir.”

Obi-wan moved the ships without comment, studying the map again before asking CC-2224 another question. They continued working until the briefing where Obi-wan presented their rough plan to the other officers. The commander disappeared quickly after dismissal, but Obi-wan thought he sensed a quiet relief or pleasure when his suggestions were taken without fuss. 

Obi-wan wandered into the mess hall, looking for somewhere to sit which was unusual for him. He often took his meals in his office, finishing work, especially focused on figuring out how to organize this war. Jedi were constantly being moved around as the council and other highly analytical Jedi assigned Jedi and clone officers, trying to match aptitudes, temperaments, and specialized needs. They were also trying to figure out how many Jedi they could afford to have at each level of the GAR. Many senior padawans were knighted in the first weeks of the war, like Anakin, but were still functioning under increased supervision as they started to lead men into battles. Obi-wan sighed as his thoughts circled these problems while grabbing his food. Jedi were not meant for war. 

He sat near a group of clones, close enough to be able to talk to them, but far enough away to allow them their own space if they had no interest in engaging. A few clones in the mess had rank colors, but it was mostly a disconcerting sea of white. 

CC-2224 sat down next to him, a slight buffer between him and the other men. Or perhaps a bridge. 

“Commander. How are preparations?” They had been in hyperspace for 2 days and were going to be coming planet-side in a few hours, the men were getting antsy to do something more than chores around the ship. 

“Almost done, General. We’ll be ready by arrival.”

“Good, thank you.”

One of the clones closest to them seemed to be full of nervous energy, tightly wound. When CC-2224 and Obi-wan said nothing else he finally cleared his throat. “Umm, General? Sir?”

“Yes, trooper…?”

“Stitch, sir.” His face got very red and he hurried to correct himself. “I mean CT-1655, sir.”

Obi-wan smiled at him, the smile that calmed down anxious padawans and bristling senators alike. “Do you prefer to go by Stitch?” The trooper nodded and the slightly tense atmosphere seemed to freeze as clones within several tables of them got very quiet. “Very well. What can I do for you, Stitch?” There was no noticeable noise but the room felt like it had let out a collective exhale and the noise level rose again, though not as loud as it had been before. Obi-wan was certain that many of the clones were listening intently despite appearances. 

The trooper smiled slightly. “We were, well, I was wondering where you were assigned before us, sir?”

“This is my first true command, actually. After the Battle of Geonosis I was injured, as was my padawan. We were given leave to heal as well as dealing with Anakin’s knighting.”

“Knighting means he’s a full Jedi now, right, sir? So he’s a general too?”

“Yes,” Obi-wan explained fondly. “He has just been assigned to the 501st I believe. He is assigned to the Sky Corps, so we will likely work with him at some point.”

“Thank you, sir.” The trooper became shyer again and tucked back into his food. His bravery had influenced some other troopers around them however. Obi-wan could feel their focus through the force, though he kept his gaze mostly on his food so they wouldn’t be scared off. Another clone spoke up, not speaking directly to him, but not excluding him from the conversation either. 

“Hey Commander, that’s the legion Rex is in right? The 501st?”

CC-2224 nodded. “Last I heard it was.”

“Is Rex another commander?” Obi-wan asked curiously. 

The Commander shook his head. “He’s a captain, sir.”

Obi-wan gave a self deprecating chuckle. “I have many names to learn if I’m going to keep up with you troopers. Do you know all of the officers in the Sky Corps?”

CC-2224 gave a wry smile. “No, sir. Captain Rex was in many of my command classes. He’s an excellent tactician and strategist, a good captain.”

“Perhaps he will be good for Anakin then.” At the slightly wary look in CC-2224’s eyes Obi-wan expounded. “Anakin is a peerless fighter and excellent tactician. However, he can be, well, brash at times. Overall strategy isn’t his forte, so I’m sure the clones in his command will help to balance him out.” Obi-wan could still see some hesitancy even though the clones around him nodded and accepted his explanation. He suddenly remembered that their first commander had died in a foolishly fought battle led by a Jedi that the council quickly decided would be better under more supervision. A battle that had taken dozens of troopers needlessly as well. 

“Anakin may be brash, but he cares deeply for those around him. He will listen to his captains and commander I am sure. He knows his failings, as all Jedi should.” Most of the tension faded at this pronouncement and lunch was finished with quiet conversations around them, though no one directly engaged Obi-wan again. 

As they left to finish preparations, Obi-wan found himself walking with CC-2224 towards the bridge. Obi-wan thought to the several names he had learned at lunch, Stitch was the only one to directly introduce himself, but after that Obi-wan had heard several other names being used around him. He hadn’t quite assigned the names to specific troopers but he knew that would come with time. “Commander, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, sir.” He was as stoic as ever, though wearing his helmet undoubtably helped with that.

“Is there another name you prefer to go by, or simply CC-2224?”

There was a pause, and Obi-wan wasn’t sure what pros and cons his commander was weighing, but he stayed silent. “Cody, sir.” He finally said in a release of air. “I go by Commander Cody.”

Obi-wan smiled in triumph. “Commander Cody fits you very well.” They stepped onto the bridge and someone shouted “General on the bridge!” 

“Ready to get to work, Commander?” The chrono on the wall said 2 hours until arrival and Obi-wan felt anticipation go through him as Cody smiled tight lipped. He didn’t want this war, but neither was he willing for it to go on without him. His troops needed him to make sure that as many as possible survived by the end of the day. And now they could start being useful.

“Of course, General.” And so they got to work. 

——

Cody grunted as he took a punch to the stomach, but he waited for an opening. When Crys swung at his head, he ducked under it and used the momentum from Crys to further imbalance him, ending with Crys on the mat, Cody pinning him. There was other noises from other clones as they continued training, shooting or sparring. But above that there was a single person clapping. 

Cody and Crys looked over to the doorway where General Kenobi was standing. “Great job, Commander.” He stepped closer to them, and Cody saw he was dressed the most casual he had ever seen. Most of his robes were gone, he was just wearing base underclothes. Cody got off Crys and gave him a hand up. 

“Thank you, sir” 

“And good job to you as well…”

“Crys, General.” The General nodded and smiled. “If I could offer a suggestion, Crys?”

“Of course, General.” Crys straightened and locked his eyes on the General.

Obi wan stepped onto the mat and gestured to Crys to come closer. “Your punches are solid but you telegraph your moves, allowing Commander Cody to anticipate them. There wasn’t much you could have done once the punch was swung, but if you shift your stance like this,” he demonstrated it “you’ll be more difficult to imbalance.”

“Thank you, sir.”

 “Ready to practice?”

“Sir?”

Kenobi ticked an eyebrow up and grinned. “Well, the best way to learn is to do.” He clearly saw Crys hesitance and added, “You won’t break me, trooper.”

“Yes, sir.” Crys got into the ready stance, and Kenobi swung his fist at him at half speed. Crys blocked him and when he tried the same move Cody had done Obi-wan was able to shift away before he was thrown on the mat.

“Good. Switch.” Crys threw a punch and Obi-wan blocked it like Cody had. Crys wasn’t able to avoid the throw completely, but he was able to roll out of the fall before the General could pin him. The General immediately disengaged. “Good, more practice and you’ll be an expert.”

Crys nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Obi-wan nodded at both of them and moved to a corner of the room. He pulled out his lightsaber and started doing slow sequences with it, avoiding the other clones training. They all looked at him, but quickly went back to their own tasks. 

“You ready to go again?” Cody asked Crys. Crys nodded but then a look of confusion crossed his face. 

“How did he know who you were?”

Cody was about to respond, but realized he didn’t have an answer. Crys and he looked exactly the same, in fact most of the clones did. Some had started doing different hairstyles within regulations, or even drawing on themselves every couple of days. Normally his armor or even the fact that he always stayed by the general identified him. But all of them were in blacks at the moment. “You know, I don’t know.”

Crys shrugged in that pragmatic way that clones have and fell into another starting position. 

——

Pain. Pain surged through his face, his head, his eye. It felt like a knife cutting again and again, the pain fading for a part of a moment before coming back worse than before. He would not have opposed just passing out to have the pain end, but he was doubtful that would happen. 

Voices faded in and out, yelling incoherence as his battalion continued to push back the droids. He thought he heard someone yell medic, but wasn’t sure until minutes later when fingers felt along his neck. 

The medic started requesting help and Cody was about to help him by trying to sit up. As soon as he moved the pain intensified and Cody wasn’t aware of anything else. 

He woke with the smell of chemical and blood filling his nose. He blinked his eyes open and though the bright light blinded him for a moment in one eye he recognized the medbay on their flagship. 

Several clones had suggested the name The Negotiator and Cody had approved the name a few days before. When they got general approval from the GAR their fleet would be completely organized and operational from the clones perspective as well as the natborns. His men refused to consider the corps complete without proper names on everything deserving of names. 

If that meant that the best working caff maker was jokingly called Jimmy, that was neither here nor there. 

He realized his mind was wandering and pulled it to the present, just to realize that he couldn’t see out of one eye. His other eye was covered in bandages and he could feel the swollen and warm skin on that side of his face. 

A face came into his field of vision, the medic, and he smiled slightly at seeing Cody awake. 

“Ah, commander! Glad you’re with us. How do you feel?”

“Like a bantha stepped on me. Or like I got blown up.”

“Well you would be right. You were caught in the edge of an explosion and shrapnel hit your helmet hard enough to leave a mark.”

“How bad is it?”

“Well it missed your eye we think, so you should have full range of vision once the bandages come off. Unfortunately we found you late, and it took a while to get you back to medical, the droids were persistent. I’ll need to monitor you closely for infection. We got bacta on it, but it will probably scar.”

“That’s fine.” Cody tried to swallow past the uncomfortable dryness in his throat and the medic handed him a glass of water before moving on to help another trooper. 

They pulled the bandages off the next day and Cody was relieved that his vision was fine after it adjusted to the light. The medics tried to get him to stay another day, concerned about other repercussions from the explosion but he overrode them both with his rank and the fact that he could rest better in his quarters. He only felt like a small bantha ran him over now, rather than the whole herd. 

The general found him a few hours later, delivering more datapads. He passed them over while waving Cody to stay sitting. He leaned on the desk casually, like the first time in his commanders room was something completely ordinary. Jedi had odd rules regarding interactions with others, but maybe that was down to less rank and structure in their normal lives.

“Cody, I’m glad to see you are alright. My apologies for delivering more work, but the war stops for none of us.” 

Cody hummed and accepted the pads with a shrug. “I understand, sir.”

“I have been in explosions before, they aren’t pleasant.”

“No. But I’m well enough, sir.”

“You’ll tell someone if you feel dizzy, a headache, any lingering side effects?”

Cody looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The way it tugged at his skin was odd but no longer painful. “I’m fine, general.”

“Of course,” General Kenobi smiled at him innocently. “How does the scar feel, do you need more bacta?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” which was true thankfully. He still wasn’t sure if Jedi could read minds, but the Jedi always seemed to know when someone was being untruthful. Whether that was the force or reading body language Cody didn’t know. “Might was well save the bacta, and the medic said more bacta probably wouldn’t help much anyway.”

“I see. Hopefully we all come out of this war with minimal scars, realistic or not.”

“Scars distinguish us. I don’t mind.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” the General tilted his head in acknowledgement and stood, “I should let you get back to it. Let me know if you need anything, Commander.”

The Jedi turned back and Cody looked at him questioningly. “My apologizes for calling you Cody, Commander. I had no intention of being disrespectful.”

 Cody was shocked at the apology, especially since he had given the general permission to use his name weeks ago. He hadn’t even realized that he hadn’t until he had apologized. “You can call me Cody, sir.”

“You may call me Obi-wan you know.”

Cody shook his head. “It wouldn’t be proper, general. And it would set a poor example for the men.”

Obi-wan smiled slightly at him but it seemed a little sad. “Very well. Rest up, commander.”

Later as Cody scanned the new datapads he realized that they were all low priority and could have been handed over by anyone. The explanation that made the most sense was general had come to check on him, using the pads as an excuse. But that was weird to think about so Cody pushed it aside. 

——

“Eh, I’ll paint my armor one day, Commander, just you watch. You’re gonna turn around one day and I’ll have that commander yellow.”

“Dream on shiny. You’ve got a ways to go before you make commander.” Cody noticed the pensive look on the general’s face, but couldn’t figure out exactly what he had to think about. Maybe it was an unrelated look, figuring out battle tactics. Or maybe he was considering if the trooper would be able to be a commander. Cody doubted he would be promoted that far, possibly a captain but from what Cody remembered he wasn’t much of a strategist. Maybe that’s what the general was considering. 

Two days later General Kenobi commed Cody to come to the bridge.  “Cody, I would like your input on something,” He said as soon as Cody got to him.

“Sir?” The general started walking away from the others to give them some privacy.

“How effective do you think the paint for officers is in the field?”

Cody weighed whether to keep his opinions to himself, being critical of the Kaminoans never went well. But he wasn’t directly under their thumbs any more. “It’s effective for men to know the rallying point sir, if the officer is leading the troops from the front.”

“But?” Cody didn’t know if Obi-wan could tell he had dislikes from his tone or whatever force magic he had, but it was going to get annoying very quickly. 

“It makes us a target sir. The droids are stupid, but not that stupid. And it hurts morale if the troopers can’t see the paint, whether or not the officer is down.”

“That has been my observation as well. Some identification can be useful, but everyone being in white is rather plain don’t you think?”

“Sir?”

“The Council and I are discussing assigning paint colors to units rather than as ranks. I volunteered us to be one of the units testing it.” Obi-wan paused, clearly waiting for him to say something. 

Cody had no idea what to say. Did the General want his opinion on colors? His blessing? Why in the world would Obi-wan Kenobi need his approval? “Very good, sir.”

“I’ve had some idea for colors, do you have any opinion, Commander Cody?”

“No, sir.”

“None at all commander? Surely you have some opinion.”

Cody sighed internally. If his opinion was opposite Obi-wan’s it wouldn’t end well. “I’m not partial to red, sir.” After living with red clothes his entire life, he disliked the color almost as much as pure white. 

“I was thinking a color similar to your command color. But I wasn’t sure if you were already tired of it. It will likely be permanent for the rest of the war.”

“I would like that, sir.”

“Excellent, I will order the paint and we can pick it up on our next supply.”

“Will other units be painting, General?”

“Yes, some of the other units working directly under the High Council. I think the troopers assigned to Coruscant as well.”

Cody idly wondered what colors the others would pick but pushed it away, he would see soon enough. 

When they finally got the paint two weeks later the General handed him a small bucket with a smile. “I’m excited to see what you design, commander.”

It took Cody longer than he wanted to pick his design, but when he did he felt like his armor was finally his. He had no real interest in tattoos or unique hairstyles like the men were starting to do, free from the restricting sameness of Kamino. But his amor could never be any one else’s now. 

When he walked onto the bridge the next morning, every trooper did a double take. He could see many of them trying to stare discretely. He kept his head high and his gait even like nothing was different or unique in any way. Let the men draw their own conclusions. They knew that they had received paint for the ships, but Cody hadn’t told them to paint their armor yet, and he was almost positive that General Kenobi hadn’t said anything either.

General Kenobi strolled onto the bridge and smiled broadly at Cody. “I like the design, Commander. It suits you.”

Cody nodded at him. “Thank you, general.”

They both got to work organizing troop movements, but Cody felt more eyes than usual following him around for days. 

He was told to start spreading the paint, though they had a limited supply, so Cody focus on the captains of the battalion, then the lieutenants, then to slowly spread down the ranks. The newest troops wouldn’t get paint for quite a while, but that was okay. The term shiny was already being used because of how pristine their armor was and the lack of command colors. Now it was becoming an even more fitting name. 

It was thrilling in a way to see some of the white fade as yellow/gold replaced it. The troopers started talking about what they would paint when they finally got the chance, and Cody even saw the hairstyles start to get more interesting. If they could be unique in their armor, it would make sense that no one would care about their haircuts. 

Cody made sure no one grew it longer than regulation of course, but Cody thought he saw the General smile at one of the unique razor patterns he saw in the mess hall so he left it mostly alone. 

Soon after all the lieutenants had their paint, Cody dragged him back from yet another canon blast, into the arms of a lieutenant, Wooley. Wooley shot a droid before it could shoot his General, and Obi-wan nodded at them while coughing the dust out of his lungs. “My thanks, Commander. Wooley.”

In another free moment they had, crouching under a barrier, Cody found himself speaking to fill the silence. “At least the paint helps to tell us apart, right General?”

General Kenobi gave him a bemused look. “Oh Commander, I don’t need paint to tell you all apart. It’s simply nice to see your individualities.” He poked his head up to check their surroundings and readied his lightsaber again. He gave that little smirk that always meant trouble and said, “Besides, all white can be a bit of an eyesore,” before jumping over the rubble and charging the droid line once again.

Cody didn’t know what to say, but since he had to make sure his General didn’t get blown up he didn’t have much time to worry about it. 

——

Cody sighed and signed yet another form. He found himself glancing up every few minutes to check on the general. The general had been unconscious for hours now. The bone mender had fixed his broken ribs, and the lung had been repaired before anything lethal had happened, but Cody was still keyed up from everything. 

Kenobi groaned and shifted slightly. Cody found himself almost dropping his datapad. He leaned forward and looked at the vital signs. He was no medic but between his upbringing and how many of his brothers ended up in the medbay, he could tell that the vitals were good. 

Cody looked around for the medic but he was dealing with another patient so Cody decided it was probably better to leave them alone until the General woke up all the way. 

The man who should still be asleep for another couple of hours started moving his mouth like he was trying to speak. Cody almost spoke before the general swallowed and tried again. “Evr’yone ‘right Cody?”

“Yes, sir. We lost a few men, but casualties were low. You’re the worst off, general.”

“…you?”

Cody felt a brow raise, the general was basically incoherent but why would he care so much that it was the second thing he asked on waking up? Not about the council, or progress of the campaign, or even how hurt he was. He asked about the men first and Cody second. 

“I’m just fine general. You should rest.”

The ginger man nodded and his breathing evened out again immediately. Cody would be surprised if he remembered any of this when he woke up.

——

“Sir? May I ask a question?”

“Of course, Cody.”

Cody was tense again, like he hadn’t been in weeks. They had fallen into a rhythm with doing paperwork and organizing the army. But in the force he felt more like he did in the first weeks of their partnership than the familiarity they had fallen into. Cody met his eyes and slid his paperwork away from himself.

“How do you always know it’s me, sir?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“All us clones look the same. You can sometimes tell us apart by armor, I always had command paint or 212th paint. But you recognize me when you shouldn’t. Even before I got the scar. You knew who I was when you were half conscious and not looking at me. I’ve noticed you generally can differentiate the men too. The Kaminoans couldn’t tell us apart, and no other natborns can unless we have obvious marks.”

Obi-wan felt a rush of understanding and sorrow. These men hadn’t had anyone outside their own brothers truly know them. The galaxy saw them as interchangeable and empty. That was the furthest thing from the truth but who would chose to see reality? “Oh, it’s quite simple Cody. The force.” 

“The force, sir?”

“Yes, I can tell all of you apart because of your presence in the force.” Obi-wan hesitated, did Cody want the lecture on how it worked? Anakin generally tuned him out or only caught the ends of his explanations, unless it was something that he felt he needed to know. “May I ask how much you know of the force, commander?”

Cody shifted slightly in his chair, but his voice was steady like he was giving a report. “It can be used to move objects and people, including assisting in large jumps. You can occasionally sense danger, and your reaction times are faster than normal parameters,” Cody paused but added as a quiet afterthought, “There are rumors you can read minds and control them.” 

So Cody knew what he could observe, and little else. “Very good. Your observations were correct, though reading minds is generally an exaggeration and outright controlling someone is impossible.” Cody nodded and Obi-wan knew he was storing the information away like he did enemy movements and battle maneuvers. 

Obi-wan leaned back from the desk and crossed his legs. He collected his thoughts, explaining the force to someone who didn’t know anything about it or how it felt it was more difficult than even teaching initiates. They breathed the force, so while they needed guidance they could grasp the theory quickly. “Well, the force is the energy of universe. It binds everything together, and is contained in every living thing. Some living things can manipulate that energy, like the Jedi or the Sith. We can augment our physical selves as you have seen. It allows us to do the things you have seen like moving objects or cushioning our fall, but it is much more than that. 

“Force sensitive beings can feel the currents around them, for lack of a better analogy. Some Jedi get premonitions, shapes of the future, events that are about to happen. Often we can receive warnings if we are attuned and paying attention. We can use the force to sense around us, like another sense. It is possible to sense objects, but it is much easier to sense living beings because of the way the force moves through them. 

“I can sense each of the life forms on this ship and they are all distinct from each other. Does that make sense?”

Cody nodded slowly. “How do we feel different? We’re all the same genetically.”

Obi-wan hummed in thought. “Force signatures don’t rely on genetic code. It’s a combination of personality, experience, and the unique thing that makes each person. It’s extremely hard to describe, but it’s somewhat like the difference between voices. Well voices for non-clones I suppose. Perhaps like a visible fingerprint. Everyone understands it slightly differently, but more force users can tell the difference between beings through the force.”

“So once you meet someone you always know them?”

“It’s a bit like learning someone’s voice, you may think they are familiar after you meet them, but it takes true familiarity to recognize them. Some Jedi are better at it than others. And of course, it is often simpler and faster to notice those around us with the mundane methods.”

“Is there a way to trick a Jedi?”

“It is possible for some masters, but it requires use of the force.” Cody looked pensive but nodded again. 

“Thank you for explaining, general.”

“Of course, Cody. I don’t mind explaining things, feel free to ask questions.”

They went back to their paperwork, but Obi-wan could tell Cody had another question. After a few minutes, Cody cleared his throat, “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“What do I, uh, look like in the force?”

Obi-wan smiled. “As difficult as it is to explain, you shine in the force, Commander. You are steady and decisive, confident and determined. You are light.”

Blush spread up Cody’s neck and on to his cheeks, visible even through the dark skin. “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything else but Obi-wan could feel his quiet pleasure. Slowly and surely they were getting to know each other. Obi-wan felt the web of light slowly growing week by week that connected him to his men, and basked in it. Even in darkness there is light. 

[comfortatz]

maybe mixing cake and a huge cup of a sugary latte wasn’t the best idea. jisung’s stomach sure didn’t think so. it was currently disagreeing with what all jisung put in it, making him feel queasy. 

the latte was to fuel his attempts at finishing his essay. he had agreed to meet up with hyunjin in the student center after the both of them complained about schoolwork driving them insane. it was better to suffer together than to suffer alone. the cake was being given away by some org that jisung really couldn’t care about, but he wasn’t one to turn down free cake. 

hyunjin had given him a disgusted look when he saw what jisung had brought, knowing well that jisung could only tolerate the taste of espresso if it was mixed with so much sugary flavors that he could barely taste it anymore. he also knew that jisung had a tendency to drink his lattes at a concerning speed, often resulting in upsetting his stomach and hyunjin having to listen to him complain about it.

after eating the cake and chugging a good portion of his latte, jisung finally got to work on his essay. for a while, it went okay; he wasn’t the best at writing essays, but he could manage a good grade. he drank a bit more of his latte as he worked, the overly sweet taste making his throat burn and little. 

it was about an hour into writing his essay that his stomach decided to make its complaints very well known. it started off as a slight nausea and twinge in his belly that soon developed into a full bellyache that had him swallowing nervously. it was hard to focus on his paper with his stomach gurgling ominously.

across from him, hyunjin had noticed the change in jisung’s demeanor. he had warned the other that all the sugar would probably upset his stomach, so he wasn’t too surprised to see jisung looking a bit green.

jisung stifled a sour burp in his fist, wincing as a cramp had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. he gave a heart hearted attempt at writing his essay some more, mostly to get hyunjin to stop staring at him like he was going to puke all over the table (his stomach churned dangerously at the thought). he tried to read over his notes for some sort of inspiration, but the nausea was thick and very, very distracting. 

he snuck a hand under his shirt and rub small circles against his stomach, trying to alleviate the pain without drawing too much attention to himself. his stomach was bloated against his fingertips and he could feel how upset the organ was, the coffee sloshing around unpleasantly with the cake. he stifled another burp, one that had hot acid licking the back of his throat and worsening the nausea. for a moment, he almost succumbed and threw up all over his laptop. after some harsh swallows, however, the violent urge to vomit crept back down and settled in his stomach. he slouched over the desk, leaning his head on his hand and sighing deeply.

by now, it was obvious to hyunjin that jisung was feeling very, very sick. “i told you all that sugar would upset your stomach,” he said, typing on his laptop.

jisung moaned, sliding down further onto the table until his face was pressed up against it. the coolness felt nice against the heat of nausea. he mentally plotted out a map towards the nearest bathroom, knowing he would have to pay it a visit sooner or later. his stomach lurched and he hiccuped.

it seemed that visit was going to happen much, much sooner rather than later.

jisung abruptly stood up, still hunched over his stomach, and began to speed walk to the bathroom. he kept his head down, the world around him spinning and morphing into nauseous colors and sounds. his speed picked up a bit more when he felt a gag rise and squeeze his throat, causing him to slap a hand over his mouth.

jisung stumbled into the bathroom, slamming a bathroom stall door open before gagging loudly over the toilet. his mouth tasted sour and was filled with saliva that he couldn’t swallow back. his stomach gave a loud rumble and he heaved again, finally bringing up a small mouthful of vomit.

he breathed heavily, groaning as he realized his stomach wasn’t going to make it any easy vomiting session. despite feeling ridiculously nauseous, his stomach refused to bring anything else up. his hands were clutching the rim of the toilet so hard his knuckles were white and he could feel his body trembling.

after a very sick sounding burp, his belly finally gave in and began violently forcing out its contents, desperate to get rid of the coffee and cake. jisung could barely catch his breath between bringing up copious amounts of puke.

somewhere amid the storm of retching, he became vaguely aware of someone holding his bangs back and a hand gently rubbing his back. it was a small relief, something that grounded him.

jisung coughed and panted, throat raw from vomiting so much. his stomach had calmed down momentarily, but he could still feel it rolling with sick anticipation. his head was spinning from overexertion and the lack of oxygen; all he could do was slump onto the toilet rim, unable to hold himself up any longer. 

“oh sungie,” he heard hyunjin coo, the hand on his forehead moving through his hair gently. it felt nice, and jisung let his eyes flutter shut. “your poor tummy doesn’t feel too good, huh?”

that felt like an understatement, considering how bad he was feeling. “i’m never having cake again,” jisung whimpered.

he let hyunjin maneuver him off of the toilet, instead having him lean against hyunjin. jisung automatically hid his face in hyunjin’s oversized sweater, the other’s arms wrapping around him. hyunjin didn’t seem to mind risking getting puked on, which jisung appreciated.

“do you think you can make it back to my apartment?” hyunjin asked.

jisung nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he could. he’d much rather be stuck puking in hyunjin’s bathroom than in the very public one in the student center.

hyunjin seemed to sense his doubt, but didn’t try to make them stay. he helped jisung get up onto his shaky legs, explaining that he had already packed their bags so that they could head back.

“i’ll take care of you as long as you need, even if it’s your own fault that you’re sick,” hyunjin promised.

jisung gave him a shaky smile, a bit unsteady from feeling both dizzy and nauseous. perhaps he should have listened to his body when not three steps outside of the bathroom, jisung bent over and threw up again all over the floor.

hyunjin sighed. it was going to be a long day.

[wocfics]

In The Dark

Park Jimin Series

Arranged Marriage Series

Masterlist

PJM x Poc Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k+

Y/N couldn’t tell if he liked her or not. The way Jimin sat across from the table during the meeting, he was hard to read. He’d glance at her and then listen to the lawyers and Mr. Bang talk, answering them but stayed completely quiet when you would talk or agree to something. You could speak some Korean. You weren’t extremely fluent but as long as they understood you, you were quite proud of yourself. You didn’t have the best background before you moved to Korea and found your ballet teaching job. When you got the email from something you signed up for over a year ago about arranged marriage, you didn’t think anything would be done with it. The only way you were even here right now was probably because of your photos that you had to submit to the forum. Caramel skin, golden curls and a slim body…from over a year ago.

You put on more weight since then, just a few pounds and you certainly didn’t have that flat stomach anymore ever since you quit your old job and began as an assistant ballet teacher. You lived alone in your tiny apartment in Los Angeles. You saved money and only bought what was necessary. Your new job paid good but you wanted something better. When Big Hit emailed you about the arranged marriage that they matched you with, you were excited and nervous at the same time. You had no time to get back into shape so what would your new ‘Husband’ think of your extra weight.

You easily packed up your own things and had them shipped out the same day you got on the plane for the long flight to your new home. You informed your mother, who was the only one you were worried about, about where you are going and what was happening. Although you didn’t get the reply you were looking for, it lets you know that you didn’t have to worry about coming back. She sent a ‘Goodbye’ text and left it at that. You had a private plane and your belongings, which didn’t consist of much, were also being flown as well.

You were driven to the building, after changing a simple tracksuit that was a baby blue color, with white sneakers and your curls in a half up hairstyle.  The beginning of the meeting was fast, Jimin had on his practice attire which consisted of a white shirt and grey sweats. He wore no makeup and his hair was under a baseball cap. He was still breathtaking. None of the lawyers spoke of your past, which you decided to tell Jimin yourself once you two were settled into your apartment together.

After the papers were signed, you and Jimin headed out and made your way to the new apartment together.Your things were already there in the couple of boxes that were sitting in the living room area. You took off your shoes and placed them by the door, turning to see Jimin slowly walking around the living room area, looking over everything and making sure it was good. You took off your jacket, revealing the tight tank top underneath and placed the jacket on the back of the couch. Jimin looked you over before heading into the bedroom and coming back out with a small bear and smiling at you while you dug through the boxes to see what you had to put away.

“I got this for you.” He held up the stuffed animal to you and you grabbed it, smiling at it. “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t get you anything.” You chewed on your bottom lip and he shrugged. “It’s okay.” He walked into the kitchen, checking the fridge and pantry before going to help you carry the boxes into the main bedroom. The apartment was way bigger than yours back home. The furniture was dark grey colored in the living room and the kitchen was a beige. You made your way into the bedroom and first noticed the bed that had dark blue bedding on the king size mattress with canopy curtains hanging from the ceiling over it.

Your eyes were wide the entire time, taking in all o the nice things you had now and it was starting to settle in that this is your life now. Married with this nice apartment and this handsome man that was now removing your clothes from the boxes and placing them on the bed. “Oh, don’t worry. I can do that.” You quickly walked over and grabbed the pile of clothes from his arms which consisted of your bras and panties. So embarrassing. Yout thought before placing them in the empty chest near the window. Your face was flushed red for a few seconds before clearing your throat and moving onto your bathroom products. Most of them you threw out since you’d need new ones but you kept all of your hair products and put them into the in suite bathroom, placing them neatly in the small closet next to the walk in shower.

“So, they said you needed to tell me something that you wouldn’t speak about in the meeting. Can you tell me now?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed while he watched you walk around the room to put the rest of your things away.

Stopping in your tracks, you looked at him and sighed heavily, closing your eyes for a second before going back to putting your things away. “Yeah…” You trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to say it. You stood in front of the dresser and turned to face him. “Before I became an assistant ballet teacher, I was a, uh…a-a stripper-but I never did anything crazy for money.” You said the last few words quietly as you watched his eyes widen and him take a deep breath before nodding and taking off his hat to run a hand through his blonde hair. “Wow…wow. A stripper…wow.” He looked at you before looking back down to the floor.

You didn’t know how to take his responses so you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest while waiting for him to say anything else. What if he told them to send you back home? He wouldn’t believe you anyways.

“You don’t look like you were a stripper. Your body looks more…a little…heavier to be that or even a ballet teacher.” Ouch. The redness that rushed to your face was visible. Did he just call me fat?!  You shook it off before nodding and clearing your throat. “Okaaay, well that’s all I have to tell you.” You responded quickly before picking up the boxes and carrying them out of the room and towards the front door.  

You didn’t notice the tears falling from your eyes until they started to tickle your cheeks so you quickly wiped them away on the back of your hands. You checked your phone, seeing that it was still a bit early, plus you didn’t eat yet so you decided to make a sandwich instead. Jimin walked into the kitchen a few minutes later to see you cutting your sandwich in half and asked if you could make him one as well. As much as you didn’t want to, you knew he probably didn’t mean what he said earlier about your body. Grabbing a glass of water and sitting at the table, you went through your phone to start transferring everything to your new address, mostly mail and money. It took awhile but once you were done you checked your emails about the teacher position you were offered from Mr. Bang. You were to start in a couple of weeks, which gave you enough time to do some shopping for new leotards, tights and shoes.

The rest of the day went by slowly, you did your shopping online since Jimin said he didn’t want you going out without him just yet so everything you purchased was online or Jimin had someone go and pick up the items for you.

You two sat in the living room, you curled up on one end and him on the other, talking about your likes and dislikes. “So you can cook?” He asked and you nodded with a smile. He raised his brows and did a little fist in the air and you laughed quietly. You cooked dinner, with his help since you wanted to learn how to cook some traditional food but you landed on making some tteokbokki and homemade ramen. You happily ate a small portion and he ate some as well. You cleaned up the kitchen while he went and took his shower and got ready for bed and then you did the same, putting your hair up in a pineapple while your showered. You washed off the makeup you wore and did your skin routine in the bathroom after changing into your baggy shorts and oversized t shirt. Jimin was laying in bed on his phone when you came out of the bathroom and placed your towel over the laundry basket. He glanced over at you, before placing his phone on the charger and setting it on the nightstand next to the bed.

You climbed under the blanket and looked at him when you noticed him staring at you. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Sorry, if I hurt your feelings earlier. I could tell that it was bothering you.” He nodded and turned on his side with his bare back facing you. You took in his soft skin and the muscle lining of his back, you had to turn the other way to resist even touching him. “It’s okay.” You replied before falling asleep. _______________________________________________________________

You woke up way earlier than you should have, since being in a new place wasn’t normal for you. Looking over your shoulder, Jimin was still sound asleep while you were sitting up and glancing around the room. You felt an arm wrap around your middle and pull your back against his chest. Your heartbeat picked up while Jimin grumbled and buried his face between your shoulder blades and sighed heavily. “Go to sleep.” He grumbled. His light breathing tickled the middle of your back but it helped you fall back asleep instantly.

A few hours later, you opened your eyes to the sun peeking through the curtains on the window. Stretching, you turned and noticed Jimin wasn’t there but you could smell coffee and soon the bedroom door opened with Jimin holding two mugs in his hand and handing one to you. He sat on the edge of the bed next to you and took a sip of coffee, his face puffy from just waking up and you gushed at how cute he looked in the morning but realized your face was probably just as puffy. You sat up, taking a sip of coffee as well and humming at the bitter taste you loved so much.

He watched you sip the coffee and grinned a little before going back to drink his. “The company dropped off your things here for your new teaching job. I made breakfast for the both of us.” He patted your leg before standing up and walking back out of the room. You did a double take and realized he was shirtless with just black sweatpants on. Removing the blanket, you sat your mug down to make up the bed and picked it up to make you way to the kitchen. Breakfast consisted of waffles, eggs, sausage and toast. After eating and cleaning up, you grabbed your packages from the living room and carried them into the room, putting your bag together and leaving the shoes out. You got dressed in a pair of black leggings and a black long sleeve.

Jimin came in after you were finished in the bathroom. You grabbed the shoes and placed them in a bag. “I’m going to practice in the studio on the lower floor.” Jimin spoke while sliding on a black shirt. You nodded, putting the bag over your shoulder. “I’m going down there too. I have to break in these shoes before I start teaching.” You grabbed a hair tie and placed it on your wrist. You decided to wait for him so you could walk down together.

“You know, we’re going to have to figure out each others schedules once you start working. It’s better that we know when the other is available so we can spend time together and be more prepared when shows come around. Eventually you’re going to have to show up to one with me.” He spoke while you two walked down to the bottom floor. You nodded. “I’ll let you know once I start.” You spoke while opening the door to the first practice room. “I’ll see you in a few hours?” He asked. You nodded with a small smile before disappearing behind the doors.

[bigowlenergy]

doors

Next chapter of How to Raise the Dead

X

Jack gets back late from the grocery store. 8 pm. He usually goes at 7 am on Saturday, but. Well.

Danny is asleep in the living room like Jack left him, their latest quilt bunched up around his small form. No backing. Hasn’t even been pressed yet. Fresh and new and covered in tiny strings.

It’s been a while since they worked on a project together.

Granny squares of cartoon ghosts with happy faces ring a large, detailed paper piecing of the Fenton Portal. It’s done all up in floral pastels. True soft quilt colors. Jack’s grown to prefer bright neons and the signature Fenton green, but an old fashioned quilt is good, too. It near matches the much smaller one framed on the wall. Danny’s first quilt, though of course Jack did most of it at the time. The picture beside it is Danny holding up the finished project, smiling big, missing some milk teeth. About third grade, if Jack remembers right. Or was that the year he skipped ahead? Well, whatever it was, it was Danny’s First Quilt Year.

And this one, now, with the door to the land of the dead lovingly rendered as the centerpiece, will not be the last.

-

3 AM. The Fenton Phones buzz with a silent alarm. Maddie sleeps through it, Jack wakes up. Lays there for a while. Listens to the shower run, the lack of footsteps in the hall upstairs. Danny’d disappeared around 11 pm. Vanished from his room in the usual way.

Jack eventually falls back to sleep, relieved his boy is home. For the night, at least.

He wakes at 5, as usual, then comes down to find Danny sitting on the davenport, wrapped in one of the new fabric bolts like a blanket and very much asleep. His hair is the special kind of mess that tossing and turning with wet hair makes. The bags beneath his eyes are so deep they look painted on. True bruises. Jack sets a slippered foot on the wood floor under the stairs and Danny jolts awake. Instant reaction. Too tired to know what to do with it. Squints at Jack in the early morning dark and interrupts himself with a huge yawn. Damn does he have some chompers.

“How ‘bout some coffee, son?” Jack offers.

Danny slurs out a positive, then snuggles back down. Jack gets a single cup brewing and watches the sun rise with his son.

They’re working on tracing pattern pieces when the girls come down the stairs. Both dressed for the day, Maddie about two hours early. Oh, Jazz’s tour is today. That’s right. Jack’s been distracted.

“Are you coming, Dad? Danny?” Jazz’s tone shifts slightly as she leans around to catch Danny laying on the carpet, half asleep and up to his elbows in wrinkled pattern paper.

“Danny, are you alright, honey?” Maddie asks, looking less drastically tired, but equally glassy eyed and unhappy with the hour. Like mother like son.

“Oh, you know how quilting goes, Mads!” Jack intervenes. “We were up late last night, early morning, too. I’ll stay and keep him company. Unless you need me to be there, Jazz?”

Maddie blinks once, slowly, looking intently at Jack for a moment before yawning and heading to find her purse. Jazz looks away from her open appraisal of Danny. Jack doesn’t want to turn and look, make them suspicious or anything, so he’s left wondering what she’s looking for. If Danny’s giving her some kind of code, begging for her to stay, to take him with, not to leave him home alone with Jack. Whatever she sees must be positive. Or maybe unconscious. She doesn’t take her eyes off Jack when she says, all innocence and honesty,

“No, it’s alright, Dad. It’s just one tour. I’m staying to talk to the career councilor afterwards, anyway. No reason to make you all wait.”

“Alrighty then, Jazzy. Let me know how it goes. See you later, dear.” He kisses his tired wife goodbye. Passes a note into her pocket. Waves them both out the door for their own early morning.

Normally, he’d go to the supermarket at this time, but Danny’s dead on his - absolutely exhausted, and Jack would rather keep him home safe for a change. He deserves it.

The front door clicks shut, and it echoes. Jack lets out a heavy breath.

“Want some breakfast, Danno?” He asks, turning to find Danny blinking heavily, eyes scrunching like it hurts. But he’s sitting up, mostly, and clutching the cup of decaf Jack slipped some ectoplasm in like he’s forgotten about it.

Jack kneels down beside him and sets a hand on his shoulder, gently straightening him up.

“Come ‘ere,” He offers his arm, taking the cup in his other hand. Danny flops on to his shoulder immediately. Mumbles, “I’m not a baby,” but yawns again and doesn’t even try to stand on his own. Jack lifts him easily. Calling Danny 90 pounds would be generous. Jack might not be into weight training any more, but he’ll always be strong enough to support his kids. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to cart either of them around. It’s nice. He hadn’t realized he missed it.

He puts the cup on the kitchen table and sets Danny in his seat.

“Alright, what’ll it be, bud?”

“Pancakes,” Danny mumbles, blowing on the cold coffee. Looks a little more present now.

Jack readies the ingredients and gets Danny stirring. Pulls the old pan out from the pantry. Pauses. Maybe they shouldn’t use this anymore. It was a gift from Vlad, freshman year, half gag gift, half honest peace offering to end the Prank War. A novelty Halloween pan with two large, pancake sized sheet ghosts. It’s a bit dented and well loved from the years, but it’s a good pan. Jack’d loved the thing, and did what any good best friend would do and bought Vlad the hard stuff he liked, but couldn’t really afford, as thanks. He only got to drink half of it.

Vlad’s his best friend. But. No more missed connections. No more distance. No more silence between loved ones when one is hurting. No more carefully closed doors. He sets the pan on the stove to heat.

After breakfast, they sit together in the living room and finish cutting out the quilt pieces. Danny’d always liked that part the best; tracing from the straightedge and making everything square up. It’s quiet, but peaceful. They work together just as well as they did - what, last year? Has it really only been that long since Danny had last joined him in the early morning? Has Jack gotten that lax, as a parent, to not notice? Attributing all the odd little changes Danny’s gone through to puberty and growing up and new school all sounded so sensible at the time. They still do. Of course they do. Who in their right mind would ever put money on what Jack’s betting on?

But Jack’s got eyes for a reason, his grandmama used to say. So he’d been using them. Took her good words and true voice, but set the rifle back on the shelf to cool. Not everything breeds fear. Not anymore. Not when Jack’s studied ectoplasm for long enough to understand that the instinctual fear ghosts bring out in humans is nothing more than smoke and mirrors, nothing that they can help doing. Danny isn’t a menace on purpose, not in this at least. Jack sets some quiet music up to cancel out the white noise and does his best not to let Danny in his peripherals.

Honestly, it’s getting easier and easier. Looks like there’s an acclimation period followed by a threshold shifting. If Jack just keeps aware around his son, he’ll stop being afraid altogether. He’s glad.

By the time dinner rolls around, poor Danny looks fit to collapse. He’d stubbornly powered through, pretending he’d slept last night and didn’t need to head up for a rest. Now he’s holding the edge of the quilt while Jack handstitches in a few details. Jack didn’t trust him with a needle. Is glad of it when he reaches over and gently pushes Danny back and he goes down like a sack of rocks. Stays down. Passed out instantly. Jack snips the last thread and lays the quilt top over him, smoothing his wild hair gently.

Tacks a note to the table right in front of his face and heads down to the store. He’ll probably sleep through it.

-

He does. Jack makes up something quick for himself and sets three portions in the fridge. His girls’ll be home late, like he asked. He probably should have talked with Maddie first, but the opportunity came too quick. He’s sure she’ll understand. Maybe she even got something out of Jazz.

Nah, probably not. Jazz is one tough cookie. He’s rather proud.

Of both of them.

He turns the lock and gently lifts Danny from the davenport. Expects him to stay down, but he squirms and squints up at Jack.

“Hey, Danno.” He greets the face that’s too tired to be suspicious properly. “Was gonna take you to your room for the night. Is that good?” Jack pauses, considers his words, his hold, carefully, says, “Or do you wanna go downstairs?”

Danny’s eyes slip closed again, and his hand curls into the quilt. “Downstairs,” He mumbles.

Jack takes him down to the portal. Tugs the seat out from under the stairs and drags it closer to the vortex in the doorway. Gets Danny down for the night. He looks so relaxed. So green.

It’s still a strange thing, this boy of his. But just this one nice day, this little bit of trust Jack’s painstakingly wrangled from him, feels like a victory. Like a door that’s been firmly locked has been eased open a crack. There’s less between them. Less distance, even if only a little.

Jack kisses his son’s forehead and leaves him to sleep in the lab.

[mysticsparklewings]

Ziggy Crossing

Still not quite sure I'm 100% back into the swing of things (posting regularly and being more present) yet, but time will tell. For now I'm testing the waters. Anyway. In the time I've been away, I ended up talking to some friends about (to the surprise of absolutely no one) Animal Crossing, and in that conversation, the idea of drawing my cat, Ziggy, as an Animal Crossing villager came up. I'd toyed with it before after seeing some other people draw their pets as villagers, and that conversation more or less sealed the deal for me to at least try it, even if my attempt didn't pan out and see the light of day. Obviously, things went pretty well because here I am posting this. The first step, as it is 90% of the time for me, was to come up with a sketch and go from there. I primarily used Olivia and Lolly [pre-existing Animal Crossing cat villagers] as my references--Olivia for the pose and eyes, Lolly for the stripes and some details regarding the ears and face--but I also checked certain things across the various cat villager models so that details could be consistent where they needed to be. I think if I missed the mark anywhere, it's probably in the proportions. Namely the size of the head and length of the body. But I think it's close enough that unless you compare it directly to Olivia's model that I referenced for the pose, the proportions aren't so off that it's distracting or off-putting. I did originally have trouble figuring out what pattern to put on her shirt though because the real Ziggy doesn't really have anything I could pull a pattern from. These days she does wear a white and silver collar, but that's not a whole lot to work with. So I left that alone while I pondered how I wanted to go about coloring the whole thing. My plan at the beginning was to use this sketch as a test piece for some acrylic paint markers I recently acquired (which you will be seeing me talk about in the future), but once the sketch was finished and I went back to check the colors I had (you know me; gotta have a swatch chart for everything), it was pretty obvious that if I want this to be my dear Ziggy and not just a random tabby cat, I needed to figure out a different coloring method. I could have just done regular acrylic paint, but that sounded like a chore and thus I was not interested. Same with gouache. Colored pencils were on the table, but the main problem I have with those is that they can be pretty slow and personally I think their texture really lends them better to replicating the 3DS/Animal Crossing: New Leaf style, as opposed to the look of New Horizons, and that's not what I was going for here. That left me with two main options: Watercolor, which was a hard pass for this kind of art (at least for Ziggy herself), and alcohol markers, which I did use quite a bit on the last Animal Crossing artwork I made, and they had worked out fairly well. Alcohol markers it was! Of course, even after that decision was made, there was the issue of how to handle the lines of the drawing. When I was planning on using the paint pens/acrylic markers/whatever, that seemed a lot simpler because, in theory, I could just use the same pen I wanted to color with to do the outlines and then fill them in. And because that would be using mostly opaque paint, if I needed to I could just cover up any overlap with relative ease. Alcohol markers don't play by the same rules though, so I had to re-think all that. In the end, I pulled out a pale warm gray Polychromos pencil close to the main color of alcohol marker that I had picked out that I figured would also be light enough to blend in everywhere else. That way I could have the defining lines that I needed without having to worry too much about them being visible in the final product. [For clarification: I picked a Polychromos because once sharpened they tend to hold a point longer and better than the other colored pencils at my disposal and I really needed to keep a sharp point as long as possible to do the lines here.] In retrospect, I do think it might have been to my benefit to pick out a pink for doing the inner ear lines, but the end result there isn't so awful that it single-handedly (paw-ed-ly?) ruins the drawing for me. It's just something to take note of for next time if there is a "next time." Once I had my lines (including doing the eyelashes and mouth with one of my usual black fineliners), the next challenge was the actual coloring. Mostly because I had to be very careful around the edges so that the marker ink didn't feather out too far (as alcohol markers do on any paper that isn't marketed as "bleed proof" because that's what bleed proof in paper actually means--not that it won't bleed through to the other side, though that is less common with that kind of paper, but that it won't "bleed" across the page), and I also had to be a little careful and choosy about how I did any blending or shading. Again, my blending and shading plan was going to be different had I used the acrylic markers. The main thing I ended up doing here was trying to find areas that needed to be layered so that the one-color shading could act as a line/barrier between sections. Best example: Where the ears meet the head, I shaded the bottom portion of the ears. You can also see this a little bit where Ziggy's tail meets her body and where the legs intersect at a few different points. By no means did this turn out perfectly, considering that I really wanted to stick to use as few colors as possible (which means pretty much all the shading is just layers of one color to darken it) which means there isn't as much distinction or variation as there could be. And I feel it necessary to note here that I was worried when I first finished the lines that the eyes looked wonky, but after coloring pretty much everything else in that concern dissolved because 1. It's harder to tell and 2. Even if they aren't exactly the same, it makes visual sense because it looks like her head is slightly turned, meaning the eyes wouldn't be identical anyway. Never underestimate the power of coloring your work in! Speaking of which, you might be wondering about her shirt by now. Well, after toying around with some ideas I got it in my head that a good way to tackle that problem might be with washi tape, as I've used it in this manner before and worked out pretty nicely. Even though it wasn't a lot to work with, I did like the idea of the base color for her top being white like the real Ziggy's collar, and that narrowed down my tape options considerably. Of the options I had that I thought would be suitable, I ended up having a choice between one with small rainbow-colored polka dots and the decidedly less vibrant small triangles that you see here. The polka dots seemed a little too peppy for Ziggy, so I went with the triangles. And this, I must say, is one of those artistic decisions that I feel even better about the longer that I see the end product.   The main issue I have with using washi tape, and thus why I don't use it in this way that often, is because cutting the washi tape to fit a specific shape is a process that doesn't get much easier even with practice.  And even if it did, that wouldn't eliminate the very real possibility of cutting or indenting the paper underneath while you're cutting the tape. Of which, I have not yet figured out how to totally avoid short of forming the washi tape on a separate piece of paper, cutting it there, and then moving it to the final piece. But that method comes with its own problems too, so... Still, I made the decision to go through with it here and just accept the rough edges/lack of precision and all that. Before I put the tape down though, I did do a little shading with some light gray markers that I was counting on showing through the tape to give it a little more dimension. Seeing it now, I do think I could've stood to go a little darker, but again this isn't something that totally ruins the end result for me. Just something worth noting. After all of the above, I was left with one lingering problem: The background. Which I've noticed seems to normally be a "problem" area for me in that I don't always have a solid idea for what to do with it. I did consider what exactly I wanted to do earlier on in the process, before I started on Ziggy on the final paper, even. Briefly, I thought I might cut her out and put her on a separate background as is sort of a go-to background method for me. Something just didn't feel right about doing that here though and it feels like I've done that a lot lately (you know, when I've not been drowning in mandalas for NaPoWriMo...). So it was at this early stage that I locked in the idea of adding in the background in later, probably doing something kind of loose to give a general idea that hopefully wouldn't take too much time or effort. We've already established that I wasn't super keen on the idea of using acrylic paints or gouache for this drawing, and that remained true for the background too. Although, I don't really like using alcohol markers for backgrounds either because it can be tricky to keep things smooth and consistent. That left me with colored pencils and watercolor. Colored pencils are usually hard pass for backgrounds for me for a number of reasons. So! Watercolor, hmm... I drew Ziggy here on my darling Strathmore 400 series mixed media paper because I love how it handles markers and it has enough weight and texture to it that it handles a lot of my other go-to options with little fuss. Watercolor is really the only thing I have trouble using on it, the main problem being that sometimes (not always) the paint doesn't like to blend out super smoothly and certain watercolor techniques don't work the same on it. This doesn't mean it's useless for watercolor (at least not for me), that just means I have to be more careful about how I choose to work with watercolor on it. In this case, the blending issues lined up with the idea I had of letting the background have more texture since Ziggy came out a lot smoother by the very nature of alcohol markers. Somewhere in all this, the idea struck me to use my Gelatos to leave behind some crayon-like texture. That idea seemed fitting to me since Animal Crossing is a fairly light-hearted and child-friendly game, themes that crayons go along with. The gelatos are water-soluble but not every color dissolves completely when activated with water. This should be pretty evident here because I didn't try to hide it. I wanted quick and easy, and without a doubt just letting the texture do whatever it wants is the quick n' easiest method to use with the gelatos. Once I'd done a bit of back and forth with two greens and two blues to give me the solid suggestions of a sky and ground, it still felt like it was missing something. Ultimately, it seemed like a good idea to me to try and mimic the triangle pattern/texture that New Horizons features. (In past games you could get squares or circles for a grass pattern at random.) And while I as per usual I had to think on how to go about this, in the end, the best solution I could come up with turned out to be drawing the triangles in with alcohol markers. Truly, I'm surprised to be reporting this because I fully expected the creamy nature of the gelatos to make using alcohol markers on top feel disguising and unproductive. But not so! At least not with the limited gelato use here. The creamier areas do soften the color of the marker, but I think that worked to my advantage. Although, I did end up using a little bit of my yellow Moonlight gel pen because I felt like I needed some yellow triangles for balance and I knew transparent yellow markers wouldn't do what I wanted. But that brings us to the final product. I'm happy with it. And I do really like how the grass ties in with Ziggy's green eyes. It's just a nice little touch of visual cohesion in my book. As I always say, I'm sure it's not perfect and there are some missteps here and there or things that could be improved. Nevertheless, it was a fun experiment and serves as good encouragement for me to continue playing with the lineless look, among other things. I do have to note though that it feels super weird to just leave the eyes like this with no indication of shine on them! I made the choice not to since it's not a common trait with the official character models (at least not for eyes in this same style) but part of me still feels like it's incomplete. As I've said before recently and I'll probably say again, I can't promise I'll be getting back to a regular upload schedule now, but it's on my mind. I want to get to that point soon. I do have the acrylic markers I mentioned to talk about and another supply in the mail, and some other art in my backlog. So if you can be patient with me a while longer, there will be more from me to look forward to. In the meantime, please be kind to yourself and others. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram 

[djsinquarantine]

Subset “40 Hour Workweek”, By Team Awesome

Basic Details: Subset’s 40 Hour Workweek - https://www.twitch.tv/subsetgetsit/ . Stream began at 12pm EST 5/26. Based on info from the website, the stream is recurring over 4 days (5/25 - 5/29) with various activities and events along with daily themes. Some of the links we found through the stream:

https://thenew9to5.live/40hww

https://www.markwoodyard.com/

Visual Experience: Geometric visuals serve as the background while a DJ performs in a frame in the middle or off to the side. The futuristic graphics shift in color and shape in a loop. The stream also makes use of transparent gifs as live visuals. A cutout of a man twirling fire and juggling is looping around the footage of the DJ performer. As songs accelerate, the background visuals become much more dynamic, mirroring the pace of the music.

The DJ, Mark Woodyard, performs in a bedroom, his DJ setup is out of view in front of him. Strapped around his neck, an electric guitar, and to his right, a mic stand that he will reach for every so often to add vocal looping and some singing to his mix. His amp, bed, and tapestry are in view, a non-traditional and bohemian performance space (and setup!), indeed. As he was performing, he revealed that he was streaming live from Canada, from the Vancouver area. In the top left corner, an artist is painting a mural / portrait live. Their Instagram handle also appears below for people to follow. This livestream makes use of nearly all of the space in the frame, while remaining visually engaging. How a stream makes use of their frame would be super interesting to compare. Below the frame, the streamer's information reveals that Subset is a collective based in Seattle. Not only do they host music streams, but craft and skill workshops as well. Performers, moderators, and participants, so far, seem to be mostly white and male. Participants in the Zoom Dance Workshop included three white women and two women of color.

Sonic Experience: I tuned it at 6pm, the start of Mark Woodyard, aka Mikey’s set. Before Mikey, another dj (who I believe is the leader of Subset) was djing house music while a recording of a woman in a pink cowboy costume dancing played over the geometric visuals in the center--the dj cam was much smaller and filled up only a small portion of the lower left corner. Mikey incorporated a DJ setup alongside an electric guitar and added vocal effects/singing in the mix. Mikey is very animated when he performs — he dances, jumps, makes hand gestures as he dances and sings, and looks into his camera (as if he is looking at the audience) making his set all the more effectual. He also made various facial and hand expressions that at times seemed purposefully humorous. He seamlessly transitioned between his tracks and his announcements with vocal tracks manipulated with heavy reverb. He sang about plugging his social media accounts with rich vocal harmonies that, in some instances, doubled the guitar lines.

He plays sort of Calypso and reggae music, as well as pretty loop-heavy contemporary house music with funk influences, definitely with an emphasis on dance. In his set, he has also included remixes of songs by popular artists, including a Bob Marley song and MIA's paper planes. On his website, he is referred to as a “human jukebox,” because he created genre-bending covers that showcase his vocal range and eclectic style across many eras and styles.

Mikey had an hour long set from 6 to 7, and passed it off after one more track that incorporates elements of Acid house with squelching sounds and deep basslines.

Between sets, Subset employs a segment called "Music Roulette" where a guest will come on and play clips of songs they love/are influenced by, and they provide a personal and historical narrative and anecdotes on the song. This segment so far, has taken up 30 minutes of the stream. Viewership noticeably dropped from around 170 to 123 during this time and there was significantly less activity in the chat.

Technology: A lot of his mixes incorporate a very bright and jangly guitar loop of his own making. The guitar Mikey was playing was a Fender Jazzmaster which is popular among jazz guitarists and definitely fit the jazzy/funky style that Mikey was playing. It comes equipped with extra knobs and switches which give the player much more control over the sound of the instrument as opposed to something more straightforward like the Stratocaster which only comes with 2 tone knobs and 1 volume knob. The guitar was connected to his DJ mixing equipment, which allowed him to play short riffs that he could then loop. 

Sound Quality: The sound seems to be very clear and balanced. The sound quality suggests that the equipment must be connected to the computer as an input, rather than it being filtered through a computer microphone. The sound has only cut once due to connectivity, and has otherwise been playing without delay, glitches, or disrupted because of streamer's poor connection.

Social Experience: Below the stream frame, Subset included a link to a breakout Zoom chat room where audience members could engage with other participants through webcams and mics, allowing there to be an enhanced element of liveness through “face-to-face” communication about a momentary event. The Zoom was also used for a live dance workshop from 4 to 5 pm PST, where we first did some cardio exercise and stretching to the beat of a funky house track, then learned a jazz and hip hop fusion dance from a professional dancer from the Seattle area who had extensive experience teaching through Zoom since the lockdown. We also discussed wellness at home through the endorphins of physical activity and had a guided meditation.Given the different segments, the event had a very ‘tv-like’ feel to it giving the impression that a lot was going on today at different times (zoom dance workshop, dj livestream, and music roulette). As far as chat activity goes, it was fairly active with positive reception towards Mickey’s music and the art in the top left corner among other things. People were tuning in from Vegas, Seattle, and Connecticut among other places. Some interaction between chatters as well, such as a couple making jokes about smoking weed. 

Money / Donations: Donations to subset are being encouraged. There is a graphic with their Venmo information in the bottom left corner, @subsetgetsit. Donations and promotion for performers are also being encouraged, with their Venmo and Instagram handles in the bottom right corner.

Every so often, the bot @StreamElements will post in the chat encouraging viewers to donate to Subset through the Venmo link. They also included a separate PayPal link not found anywhere else on the screen. The bot automatically notified the chat whenever someone subscribed to the channel and also periodically reminded viewers to tune in to other events throughout the week. The bot also had certain commands that chat users could use to get information on the stream such as ‘!schedule’ which caused the bot to respond with the week’s stream schedule.

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[jenanigans1207]

Original Drabble

As I’m sure many of you know, I’ve been participating in NaNoWriMo this month. This is a little one shot I wrote for some of my characters that is set before the timeline of the novel so it’ll never see the light of day otherwise. Still, I think it’s really cute and does a good job of showing my two boys and I wanted to share with you guys. 

So, enjoy some of my original writing!

--x--x--x--x--x--x--x

    Cam had never been particularly fond of his birthday. His parents had never really celebrated it when he was younger and once they gave him up, well, it was more of a bitter occasion than anything else. Still, each year Tyler wished him a happy birthday and cooked him whatever he wanted for dinner and that was enough for Cam. Except this year, in the very back of his mind, hidden in the depths of his heart, was a small seed of hope that he’d get to spend it with Cayden. Last year, their first year of being friends, Cayden had been shocked and distraught over the lack of a proper birthday celebration for Cam and had sworn continuously since then that he’d made Cam’s next birthday— and his next, and the fifteen after that— memorable and amazing to erase all the negative feelings and bad memories.

    It was this reason that Cam had been a little disappointed when arriving at school that morning to find out that Cayden had been called out sick. It wasn’t too uncommon, Cayden often got sick at the beginning of fall and the start of the school year. Typically it was just a head cold that he could push through but Cam couldn’t hold this bad timing against him. Instead, he tried to frame it in a positive light by focusing on the fact that it gave him something to do with his evening. He figured that he’d stop by later to check in on Cayden and maybe they could do their homework together. That was better than not seeing him at all on his birthday.

    The day had gone by slowly, each hour bleeding monotonously into the next, making it hard for Cam to pay any sort of attention. All he could think about was getting out for the day and stopping by Cayden’s house with his homework and some remedies to the common cold. It was his birthday, sure, but he was happy to overlook that if it meant taking care of his best friend. So, once the day ended, he stopped by Cayden’s locker, twisting the lock effortlessly through the combination and yanking it open as soon as he hit the third number. He rummaged through the locker, pulling out the books Cayden needed for his homework, depositing his own books inside. They shared lockers anyways since they each had a locker on opposite ends of the school, making it easier for them to get to their classes on time while goofing off in the few minutes they had in between.

    Once he was satisfied with that, he shut the locker, gave the lock a twist and headed for the door, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. The benefit of moving in and living with Tyler was the proximity to school. It was easy for Cam just to walk home, enjoying the crisp fall air. Fall had never been his favorite season, but it was his second favorite and it usually provided him with a good birthday full of nice weather and that was the most he could ask for. He hustled home, the exercise warming him up against the cool air, planning to just drop off a few things and gather some medicine so he could pop over to Cayden’s. Plus, he needed to tell Tyler where he was going.

    Except, the moment he opened the front door of the house, all of his plans changed. He barely had a foot in the door before he noticing the colorful decorations all around the house. Before he had a chance to register any of it, there was a loud noise as Cayden popped out from around the corner, blowing the party horn in his mouth. Cam jumped in surprise, dropping the books he’d been holding in his arms to the ground with a loud thud.

    “Surprise!” Cayden cried, pulling the horn away from his lips and smiling broadly. He threw his arms out wide, gesturing to the decorations that were filling the entire house. “Happy birthday!”

    Cam, in an attempt to get his thundering heart under control, took a step back and looked around. There were streamers trailing from every high surface in the house, balloons littering the floor and banners spanning across every doorway. It was colorful and exuberant and the kind of thing that Cam had never experienced personally. He glanced back at Cayden to see that he was dressed in jeans and a plaid button up, a party hat on top of his head. He was smiling broadly still, looking pleased not only with his work but with Cam’s reaction. Cam couldn’t stifle the smile that rose to his own lips when he noticed the second party hat in Cayden’s hand.

    “What is all this?” He asked after a moment, stooping down to pick up the books that he’d dropped. “I thought you were sick?”

    “Nope!” Cayden’s grin was huge as he stepped forward and enveloped Cam in a hug. As he pulled away, he placed the party hat on Cam’s head, securing the elastic string under his chin gently. “I just needed time to prepare!”

    “Your dad called you out of school so you could come decorate my house?” Cam adjusted his backpack, glancing around the room again. He didn’t want to admit it because he had always, always downplayed his birthday, but he was touched. He’d never had someone go out of their way like this. This was more than he had ever expected in his wildest daydream and Cayden still wasn’t done, it seemed. He stepped forward with a giant ‘Birthday Boy’ pin, attaching it to Cam’s shirt and then stepping away and nodding in satisfaction. 

    Cayden took the books from his arms and then gripped his shoulder, steering him through the entryway and into the kitchen. “My dad doesn’t know I did this. He thinks I went to school and am just coming over here after to celebrate.”

    “Really? You lied to your—” The rest of Cam’s question died on his tongue as he entered the kitchen to find Tyler— who was also wearing a party hat— leaning against the counter and the island filled with treats. In the very center was a chocolate cake with white icing— his favorite— with words written across the top in green gel icing.  Even from the entrance of the room he could read Cayden’s handwriting on top of the cake: ‘Happy Birthday Cam’. Spread out around that was two trays of cupcakes, some cookies, a plate of brownies and what appeared to be lemon bars. It was obvious just by looking at them that they were all homemade by Cayden. His heart swelled with the realization.

    The floor in the kitchen was also covered in multicolored balloons and Cam had to kick them out of the way as he walked further into the room. A banner was taped along the length of the island, below the cake, wishing him the happiest of happy birthdays. Tyler had a bright smile on his face; the kind that made it clear that this was completely and utterly Cayden’s idea but he loved it. Their home had always been sweet and comfortable but suddenly it felt intimate in the best way. It felt like he was walking into a movie scene, as if there were some sort of unspoken magic hanging in the air, swirling lazily around them and dragging them into a moment that he would never forget.

    “Happy birthday,” Tyler said, his voice indescribably tender, as they entered the room.

    Cam could feel his throat constricting slightly with fondness and gratefulness. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, dropping his backpack on one of the kitchen chairs. He had tried to guess a few times what Cayden would do for his birthday but he’d never expected it to be this over the top— and he’d definitely never expected to love it as much as he did. Tyler had initially tried to make a bigger deal of his birthdays but after being shut down so many times, he’d given up. It was plain for Cam to see, though, how happy Tyler was that this year was a big event.

    “Guys, this is—” He paused, glancing from Tyler to Cayden, “amazing.”

    For all of his life, his memories of his birthday were boring at best, and bleak and tragic at worst. And suddenly, in the few minutes he’d been home, this birthday was already overwriting all of those negative memories and replacing the ambivalence he felt towards his birthday with happiness. It had never been hard for Cam to imagine why people liked birthdays, he had just never liked his in particular. He’d always liked celebrating with other people and had done his best to make Cayden’s birthday special the previous year, but he’d just never had or wanted that treatment for himself. Suddenly, though, that was drastically changed and he found himself swept away, hoping that all the future years would be this amazing.

    “Yeah, well, I couldn’t just sit around and let you spend another year not celebrating your birthday.” Cayden dropped the books on the table by Cam’s backpack, exchanging them for a neatly wrapped package that was sitting on top. “I mean, seriously.”

    After his parents had given him up, Cam had spent a long portion of his life feeling unimportant to people. It was still something he struggled with on occasion, but had mostly gotten over. And yet, still, it felt like this was Cayden saying that he was important, that he mattered, and that he’d always matter. And that, more than anything else, was what touched him the most.

“Still, you didn’t need to go this—” Cam was cut off by Cayden deliberately handing the gift to him, gesturing for him to open it.  

He took it delicately in his own hands and looked at it. It was beautifully wrapped in green wrapping paper, the creases and corners neat and perfect. Cam knew that Cayden’s mom had taught him to wrap gifts— it was something they did together every Christmas. Last year they had added him into that tradition and she had done her best to teach Cam her magical ways of gift wrapping but he couldn’t quite grasp it as well as Cayden did. Instead, he’d sat off to the side, laughing with them and ripping off pieces of tape as necessary. The experience was perfect in its imperfections, giving him that feeling of family he’d always been seeking.

Glancing up from the package, Cam could see Cayden looking at him expectantly, an excited expression on his face. With that knot still in his throat and a grateful smile on his lips, Cam slipped a finger under the edge of the wrapping paper and tore it open delicately, doing his best to spare the paper. Once it was off, he flipped it over in his hands to find the video game he’d been asking Tyler to buy for weeks. He could feel his face light up at it as he looked back at Cayden.

“No way!” He exclaimed, placing the paper on the counter. “I’ve been after this for weeks!”

“I know,” Cayden smiled as he crossed the room to stand by Tyler at the counter.

Tyler finally pushed off, pulling a chair away from the island and gesturing to Cam, who obliged and moved to sit in the chair. Once he was settled, the other two moved to stand across the counter from him. Cayden slid the cake in front of him while Tyler rummaged through the nearby drawer to pull out candles and a lighter. Again that knot formed in Cam’s throat— he’d refused a birthday cake each year— but he knew it was from sheer happiness. He clasped his hands together in his lap to try and keep his composure while Tyler stuck the candles into the cake and began to light them.

Once everything was in place, Tyler and Cayden took up singing with no preamble. Neither of them had particularly great voices, but they swayed from side to side as they sang, their eyes focused on Cam the entire time.

“Make a wish!” Cayden cried, once their song was done.

Cam looked at both of them, really looked at them. He took a moment to notice the way Cayden’s hat was crooked on his head, too far to the left, and the way Tyler was leaning forward anxiously on his hands. These were the people who had found him in his worst moments and never left. These were the people he was closest to in the world— the ones he considered his family. And they were looking at him with all the joy in the world, waiting for him to blow out his candles.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he choked out, “I don’t have anything to wish for. This is more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

In response to that, Tyler clasped Cayden proudly on the shoulder and Cayden bit his lip to control his smile. Cam took a moment to commit the image to memory before taking in a deep breath and blowing out his candles in one fell swoop. The other two broke out into ridiculous applause after he succeeded and immediately moved to clear the cake away.

“I know normally cake is done after dinner,” Cayden was rambling immediately, something he did when he was either nervous or excited. In this case, Cam was left to assume it was a mixture of both. “But I was just really excited. I know you’ve never had a cake and honestly that’s just a tragedy and I just wanted to change that as soon as I could.”

“Cay.” Cam leaned onto his elbows on the counter, levelling his best friend with a fond expression. “It’s perfect. Seriously. It’s even better than I ever thought it could be.”

“Speaking of dinner,” Tyler was heading to the far corner of the kitchen where the crock pot stood. Cam hadn’t noticed right away because he had been overwhelmed by everything else, but now he could smell the beef stew that had no doubt been cooking all day and it was mouth watering. “Who’s hungry?”

“I am starving.” Cayden crossed the room to help dish up the stew. “I worked up an appetite after a hard day of grueling, tiresome work.”

Cam didn’t even try to stifle the laugh that came in response to that. Instead he let it bubble up inside of him, filling him with a content warmth that made the moment even sweeter. “I’m sure taping things is a lot of hard work.”

“Oh, it is.” Cayden confirmed as he slid into the spot next to Cam, two bowls of stew in hand. He set one in front of himself and one in front of Cam, wasting no time before digging in.

A moment later, Tyler placed glasses of milk on the counter in front of them. He disappeared for a moment and then came back and slid in on the other side of Cam, his own bowl in hand. They ate together, Tyler asking Cam about his day at school and Cam filling Cayden in on the things he’d missed. They acknowledged that there was homework to do, but Cayden was adamant that tonight was not the night to do it. With a reluctant sigh, Tyler agreed.

Once they finished eating, they threw their dishes into the dishwasher before Tyler dismissed them to the family room to play Cam’s new game. As they settled in on the floor, backs against the couch, he turned to look at Cayden. Cayden was looking back at him, green eyes the color of the wrapping paper earlier, his head tilted slightly to one side.

“Thank you,” It was perhaps the most heartfelt thing he’d ever said in his life and the small smile Cayden gave in return showed that he knew that.

He leaned slightly over, bumping his shoulder gently against Cam’s. “I don’t know how I’m going to top it next year.”

“Nothing will ever top this.” Cam stretched his legs out in front of him, clicking through the starting menu of the game. “This is forever going to be my favorite birthday.”

As Cayden mimicked his position, selecting his own player in the game, he smiled. “Challenge accepted.”

They lost themselves quickly in the game, hooting and hollering and shoving each other as they battled. Tyler popped in to watch for awhile before bidding them goodnight with one more birthday wish. It was the first and last night that Tyler let them stay up as late as they wanted, despite school the next day. They played until the early hours of the morning, falling asleep leaned up against each other, a unrivaled sense of contentment in their hearts.

[oceaneducation]

There are moments in life, that you have dreamt about for years. Doing a TEDx talk and becoming part of the inspiring global TED community was one of them. And then, as the saying goes, "Life is what happens, while you are busy making other plans". 

Whilst I could prepare the message of the talk, I was unable to deliver it in the way I had pictured it. After I have agonized until today about whether I should share the experience and message or not, I decided to post about it anyway. 

Although after several attempts I had to use my notes to deliver the talk, although neither mentally nor physically I was feeling at ease that day, I stand by my decision to go forward with the talk on that day and not cancel. 

Despite the subpar performance, the message is much bigger than these 18 min, bigger than my personal failure, bigger than my individual limited lifetime. It`s about human community and how we can all come together to protect the ocean. Thank you dear TEDx UniMannheim team for inviting me on 10th October to "Perfectly Imperfect" and showing such understanding, compassion and support. 

Thank you to the other speakers, who cheered me on that day, especially Gigi. And thank you to my brothers, who showered me with positive energy as always are also responsible for the best gift I have ever received - my spirit animal Totoro, who of course was also with me on the red carpet. 

Here is the video, in case you want to watch it. Unfortunatly due to technical glitches the quality is not so good https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoeefnFIlN4 Below is the complete text of the talk. I hope I can bring the message across this way. #

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Who is allowed to save the ocean?

Good afternoon everyone,for the duration of the talk, I want you, dear audience, to imagine that you are the ocean:

You are vast, beautiful, strong.You are home to around 70% of all life on earth.You are mysterious - 91% of ocean species, your children, are unknown to humanity.You cover 71% of the Earth’s surface.You are the cradle of existence, life began in you, around 3 billion years ago.Thanks to YOU, all life on Earth can breathe and exist. 

Oh what's that, you feel unwell? Climate change is making you warmer, rise up, acidic.Humans are polluting you with plastics, noise and chemicals.Your children, the plants and animals, are being captured, killed andencaged.

How can you be set free from these worries and problems?How can you feel secure and happy?So you need help, right?Who will rescue you?Aliens? Cats? Or maybe – Batman?Jokes aside.The pain you are suffering is caused by humans.So it would have to be one of them who decides to come to your rescue.So a human then.Who would you like to be saved by?How would they look?Does it even matter?Chances are, the only ones that will show up for your rescue, no matter what your answer is, are white humans, most likely men.

So you wonder, dear ocean, what happened to the rest?Weren't they motivated enough to help you?Let me explain to you, why they could not show up:When humans hear the word „human“, the first thing that comes to their minds is a white man, or a white person.White people are what is seen as the standard, the norm.Search Google for „marine conservationist“, and images of mostly white people pop up.Yet, Earth currently accommodates 7.8 billion people, of which nearly two-thirds live in Asia and 17% in Africa.

Biodiversity, which is linked to the health of ecosystems, is something that human conservationists focus on.But human diversity itself is missing.How can humans acknowledge the worth of other beings, if they fail to do so in each other?These “other” humans want to help you too, dear ocean, but it will take them longer to get to you.

Let's imagine, being able to protect you, is a prize at the end of a game.I know, don‘t blush, it is very flattering.When I was little, my family used to play a game called „snakes andladders“.It's a game where there are ladders that help you to advance faster, and snakes that slow you down.Whoever makes it to the end of the playing field, dear ocean, as weassume in this case, can contribute to your rescue.

The game stands for the ups and downs of my life:My quest to marine conservation, the struggles in terms of women's rights and racism, as an example for a Woman of Color.I also explore systemic obstacles Women of Color are more likely to face when they want to protect you.You will see, dear ocean, how everything is connected and why a large portion of humanity currently cannot come to your rescue.BTW, I love snakes, so please, dear snakes, don`t take it personally that you are playing the villain in this scenario. 

My parents fled Sri Lanka in 1983 because of the Tamil genocide.The snake was already rearing its head.They ended up in a refugee camp in Germany.That is when I was born.And then later, my two brothers.In the picturesque village in Southern Germany we moved to and called home, our family didn't have the privilege to be treated as favorably as the only two other things that were named Black – the Black Forest and the Black Forest cake.

Although there were people who welcomed us warm heartedly, I will never forget being called the N- word for the first time, which was when I was still in kindergarten.My father did what he could do to make a living, working night shifts in a factory and my mother cleaned houses, and mostly stayed home.They knew, education was the only currency that could make a future for us children in a foreign country. So they told us to work extra hard. 

Growing up in a very conservative family, as the eldest and onlydaughter of a Tamil household, I was constantly shifting between the outer German and the Tamil world.In the outer world, in school, I was the outsider.Being the only person of color at the whole school, until my brothers later joined me, some classmates made racist jokes within earshot. 

At home, I realized that a Tamil girl is expected to behave very differently from a German girl:Whilst other teenagers talked about love, I was to sit still at functions where relatives came over to ask when I was ready for arranged marriage.It was at home where my fight for women's rights began – fighting for my own freedom.

Fast forward to university, in a bigger city.One day, I was out, waiting alone for the tram at night.Suddently, several Nazis started to throw beer bottles at me.They yelled: „Tomorrow the headline of the newspaper will read ‚A dead n- b- found cut up in a trash can‘“.I survived because I ran for my life.

Yes, dear ocean, that is scary.Recently I watched Lovecraft Country, a show that is a take on H.P.Lovecraft (a brillliant writer) and racism.The author, Misha Green, mentioned that „being an ‘other’ in this world, you’re walking around in a horror movie at all times, you’re always on the edge, wondering when the monster is going to jump out and get you.“This is exactly how I feel – the exhaustion of always having to fightagainst racism, it never stops.

In 2004, I enrolled at another university – the very university that has invited me to speak today, my alma mater, the University of Mannheim.Here, I heard about "Gender Studies" for the first time through a female professor, who became my mentor.About the same time, I joined a women's association.And it was here I learnt about the importance of who can and cannot ask questions in academia and politics- questions that then become the basis of what „we“ should „know“ about how the world works.The male gaze, who decides on what is important, while the rest of the world is willingly ignored.I became aware of how I was part of the fate that millions of girls and women face.

These women, in academia and the political sphere, were the ones who helped me climb the long ladder of knowledge and consciousness in the fields of gender and racism.Of course the snakes were around:E.g. I struggled to make ends meet, had to take up student loans and juggle several jobs.Once I explained to a political science professor that I was unable to participate in group work every evening of the week because I had to work, he replied: „You should not study if you can't afford it.“

So, dear ocean, where exactly do you come in? Why is all this woman's rights and racism talk important to your survival?

It was in 2008, in a little town in Peru.Back then I was volunteering for a women’s rights NGO in Lima.The towns income was based mostly on small- scale fisheries.You know, where humans go out in little boats to fish mostly for their own sustenanceI noticed a local woman with bruises on her arms.She opened up and told me about the domestic abuse that was affecting her and other women, for the men of the town could not catch enough fish to provide the livelihood of the families anymore.Something that, as I learned later, happens all around the world.So, you see, dear ocean, how because the men didn‘t catch enough fish, the women suffered.

I understood that it would make more sense for me to find out more about you, before continuing my path.I started to reach out and talk to humans who work in marineconservation.I was lucky enough to find people who helped me to learn more about you.Other questions arose:Do I have to study marine biology to protect you?Do you care if you are saved by a scientist or by a non- scientist?Can you afford to turn someone away who comes to your rescue?

I grew tired of seeing you, the ocean, as a place that was solely there to supply us humans with resources.Then the best thing ever happened:I read about Marine Protected Areas.

Yes, I know, you are getting all excited about them.They are a place of rest and happiness, a safe haven for the fauna and flora that you created.But, the more I learned, the more I got concerned:Unfortunately a lot of Marine Protected Areas are mere “paper parks”, snakes in disguise for you, dear ocean, as they only offer protection on paper.

I needed to find out more and really connect with you, dear ocean.So, with the help of skilled and understanding teachers, who happen to be Men of Color, I learned even more:First, how to swim, at the age of 33 - a skill many people living on your shores, especially People of Color, don`t have.Shortly after how to dive.

From November 2017 to October 2018, I undertook the first ever world trip to Marine Protected Areas, to see for myself how the situation was.The focus was on the Caribbean, one of your most beautiful partsIt was during the trip that the „snakes“ got me in the most unexpected moments:

While participating in a sailing course before the trip, I was ignored because I was the only one in the course who could not just hop on their family boat for the weekend to practise.With the hope of a more inclusive experience, I went sailing with a crew, with the sad outcome of being bullied by a fellow crew member because of the color of my skin.While diving in Australia, a dive Instructor mentioned, I didn't have to worry about being assaulted, because I looked like an Aborigine.Another dive instructor did a racist greeting while walking by, as if it were the most normal thing to do.

As you know, dear ocean, swimming, diving, sailing, all these skills are key to get in touch with you and do the actual work in the field. During the trip, other “snakes” became visible:

Institutions, where white staff were in charge, not giving locals the knowledge nor the power to operate on their own– a kind of white savior complex.After the trip, I learnt that Women of Color are more likely to experience e.g. microaggressions, disrespect, misogyny and white fragility – in marine conservation and life in general.Gatekeepers, who decide who is worthy of a fellowship, job etc. areeverywhere.Often, Women of Color are the first ones and the only ones in their families pursuing a career in marine conservation, sometimes a career in general.A mentor can be a „ladder“ and is very helpful to overcome the hurdles, the „snakes“.

Even if someone from a minority gets access to university, can that human afford the unpaid internships and volunteer opportunities?Free labour is a huge issue.Environmental jobs are advertised and accepted through established networks.When back in Germany, I sat down with a coach to prepare for a job interview.She opened the NGO website: „You don't stand a chance to get the job. Look, all the superiors hired someone who looks like their younger self.“

So, imagine, a human from a minority gets hired – congratulations, you would say dear ocean. Or not?It depends on which position the human ends up in, how much influence and power they have: Are they glorified interns, part of the senior staff, member of the board?Studies show that the higher in the hierarchy, the lower the diversity is.Sadly, some People of Color are hired merely as tokens of diversity, to make the institution look inclusive.

How about the working conditions?How about the salary?Is it the same salary someone gets, who is not a minority and has the same qualifications?Generally, the salaries in conservation are low.Yes, some humans claim that it is „working in the conservation field is rewarding enough to justify the sacrifice“.Again, a privilege not everyone has access to. Why? Because of "black" or "brown tax“:This means, dear ocean, the money that professionals of color are expected to give to support their families.It causes financial distress to middle class professionals as they usually have no savings left.It is a financial burden on households of color and can rob a person of the ability to attain financial security.

How about the relationship with the non- minority people at work?Imagine, ocean, there is something called „racial gaslighting“:When humans who have never experienced racism, tell the ones that do and share their feelings, that they are exaggerating, making them doubt themselves.Imagine the mental strain of minorities, who carry this burden.

So, you see, humans who are against diversity, are not only hurting other humans, but they are also hurting you.It seems as if human society does not want a lot of people to protect you.

Looking at our game of snakes and ladders, all humans in marineconservation are on their way to the “win”, to help you.But in reality some get a headstart while minorities lag behind.

I am a marine conservationist.I am part of an industry that does not look like me.Not only am I a woman,  I am a Woman of Color.I represent two significantly underrepresented groups.Representation matters:Through creating a diverse, equitable and inclusive workforce in Marine Conservation, young people from underrepresented groups are empowered and enthused to make you, the ocean, feel secure and happy.

I hope through sharing my story of resilience, you can understand what numerous humans have to go through if they want to help you.

Dear ocean, I invite you look into the future with me:I see a world, in which there are more ladders than snakes.I see a world where all humans care for your wellbeing.I see a world in which marine conservation is a welcoming field.I see a world in which all humans are allowed to save you, the ocean. 

[zipgrowth]

Copy Machines in Libraries Are ‘Going the Way of the Dodo’—Slowly

The printed book just won’t die. But another print-based technology—the copy machine—is disappearing from many academic libraries, as librarians swap the old dime-eating machines for multi-function devices that scan texts and send copies to students via email.

“Copiers seem to be going the way of the dodo, slowly,” says Stephanie Walker, dean of libraries and information resources at the University of North Dakota.

The switch from copiers to scanners makes sense in the hybrid digital/print environment students and faculty operate in now. There’s also a financial incentive for academic libraries looking to economize and streamline operations and provide patrons with the services they most need. And in at least one case, the rise of the scanner has created an opportunity for an academic library to engage in a little community-minded entrepreneurship, providing fellow libraries with a customized computer/scanner/software bundle that won’t break the bank.

Walker witnessed the beginning of the end for copiers in her previous job at Brooklyn College, where she worked from 2005-2015 as chief technology officer. Copier use declined “the minute we brought in scanners,” she says. With the copiers, “suddenly nobody was using them any more, because the scanners were free.” Why pay a dime a page when you can scan what you need, get it via email, and print it out at home or at a college printing station?

Budget pressures have hastened the switch from copiers to scanners. Walker took the top library job at North Dakota in 2015, at a time when a downsized state budget created a sense of urgency around saving money. “One of the things we looked at was our copier leases,” she says. “We were paying leases that substantially exceeded the money made off them.”

The library staff first pulled all the public copiers from the university’s medical library and then, several months ago, from the main library. “Nobody complained,” Walker says. “The student response was a giant shrug.” The only copiers left on the premises are for staff use. If a patron really wants hard copies, “we make them at cost, about 10 cents a page for black and white, more for color,” she says. But librarians don’t get many requests for Xeroxes—one or two a week, mostly from community members.

When Scott Russell arrived at Western Michigan University a couple of years ago, 14 coin-operated copiers still took up space in the libraries. Student workers made regular rounds to collect change from the machines and check paper and toner, all for a few dollars a year in copier revenue, says Russell, director of IT services for Western Michigan’s libraries.

The solution: Get rid of half the old copiers and promote the use of multi-function scanner/printer/copiers instead. “We have multi-function machines just about everywhere,” Russell says—eight in the main library alone. “We started encouraging students to use a scan-to-email function, which was not operational when I got here.” In six months, Russell estimates, email traffic doubled, which suggests to him that the scan-to-email service caught on quickly.

Because the machines are networked, they automatically alert the vendor that supplies them when they need attention. That means the library’s student workers and staff don’t have to waste time collecting small change. “It’s just a savings all the way around,” Russell says.

The decline of the copier hasn’t translated to a drop in paper use, however. “We’re supposed to be in this paperless society, but we still see very heavy use” of printing services, Russell says. One-click wireless printing available in a newly redone area of the main library has fed students’ persistent desire to print. “We see a ton more usage over there,” Russell says.

The wireless-printing system went live in July 2017. By September, about 12,000 pages were printed using it; by October, that number climbed to 22,000, with subsequent months holding at about the same, according to Russell.

Unless they’re printing a huge number of pages, students don’t feel the direct pinch of printing costs. At many if not most universities, they get a printing credit or allotment bundled into their tuition and fees. At Western Michigan, they receive 500 tokens a semester; one black-and-white page printout costs 1 token. (A color page costs 10 tokens.) If they exceed their quota, they get charged a few cents a page.

At Augsburg University, in Minneapolis, students also get a 500-page credit at the beginning of the semester. There, too, copying has given way to scanning, says Mike Bloomberg, the digital and research services librarian.

Faculty and students at Augsburg all have fobs that give them access to buildings on campus and connect them to the library’s multi-function devices, making scan-to-email an easy and quick option. “You can just walk up to the machine and it’ll sense your email address,” Bloomberg says.

What do students want to print with their tokens and credits? “Everything,” says UND’s Stephanie Walker. That includes term papers, journal articles, book chapters and sometimes whole books, although universities will post copyright laws next to printer/scanner machines to remind students that snagging a copy of an entire textbook is generally a no-no.

Professors have a hand in printing’s persistence. Mitchell Walker, who just graduated from the University of Maryland at College Park with an undergraduate degree in English, says that some professors there expect students to print out book chapters or other class-related material.

“A couple of my professors had pretty strict no-screen policies during class,” he says. Readings for those courses “were one type of document I would print pretty reliably.”

He also scanned portions of books he used for his undergraduate thesis. “I would scan the chapter that was relevant to me and email it to myself with the bibliographic information,” he says. “It was pretty intuitive.”

Although he’s not averse to digital texts, Mitchell likes working with paper. “I like the visceral experience of being able to write on and annotate by hand,” he says. “I’m sure it’s every bit as effective to use software to annotate on a screen.” But, he says, “I’ve never used an old-fashioned copy machine on campus.”

Entrepreneurs in the Library

At Brooklyn College, part of the CUNY system, the switch from copiers to scanners led to an excellent opportunity for the library to get creative and do a good turn for other institutions at the same time. Stephanie Walker, who was chief librarian there at the time, actively promoted an entrepreneurial approach to solving library and IT challenges.

Howard Spivak is the current director of academic information technologies at the college. The big problem, he says, wasn’t moving away from copiers but finding a scanner that was good enough and still cheap and simple enough for general use.

“You don’t want to buy a cheap scanner because it will break,” he says. But “the best scanner turns out to be the most complicated scanner,” designed to handle sophisticated jobs as well as the basic stuff most students need to do. As one model superseded another, librarians at the college had to field more and more how-to questions—so many questions that they asked Spivak’s group to run workshops on scanning.

The IT department decided instead to keep a few of the sophisticated scanners for patrons who needed them but to come up with a simpler setup for general use. Bundled technology was available from some library vendors, but equipment rental plus maintenance fees made that option too pricey.

“We put together our own unit at a fraction of the price,” Spivak says. “This was on our side a thrown-together system. It consists of three parts: a computer, a scanner and software,” which the library paid programmers to create. The design aimed for the press-button-get-copy simplicity that copiers used to offer, with a couple of bells and whistles added, including networked printing. Users also had to acknowledge a copyright notice before they could scan something.

Some of Brooklyn College’s sister schools in the CUNY system got wind of the DIY solution and started asking if they could buy scanning bundles too, so Brooklyn College started a “We wanted other schools to have this scanning technology at the cheapest possible price,” Spivak says. “They own the computer, they own the software.”

The bundle costs about $3,400, approximately half of what a commercial vendor would charge, according to Spivak, with some of the fee going to offset development costs and pay the software developers. Add in the fact that buyers get free updates and don’t have to pay for a multi-year maintenance fee, and that adds still more savings.

So far, Brooklyn College has sold about 100 bundles, most of them to other in-state schools, all through world of mouth. “We did it as something to help fellow libraries, not to make money,” Spivak says. “These are not terribly difficult to create and put together. The thing we still debate is how to add new features and keep it simple.”

Copy Machines in Libraries Are ‘Going the Way of the Dodo’—Slowly published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness

[mysticsparklewings]

Aurora Inktense

I just couldn't let go of the idea I felt like I'd failed to realize on my Arteza Watercolor Polaroids; the image of some snowy evergreen trees with the Aurora Borealis behind them. And since I had some supplies I wanted to revisit anyway, I decided it was worth a second attempt using a few different techniques. This is a sort of follow-up to when I originally tested out the Derwent Inktense colored pencils, as even then I knew I wanted to do more experimenting with them and get more colors to work with. I haven't done much since the original drawing with them primarily because of the limited 18-color palette I originally had. But I have managed to finally get my hands on a 12 set to expand my color selection a little, thanks to clearance prices induced by needing to clear shelf space at my local Michael's. And so I figured it was about time to revisit the pencils as a whole and see if anything new came up or if anything from my original impressions had changed. I'll be honest, I went into the swatches and this drawing with the new pencils with heightened curiosity and an open mind, as since last time I was working with a set that was showing its age in a few different ways. For all I knew, the newer pencils could've provided a totally different experience from the old ones. Funnily enough, no, my experience was largely the same. To be fair, I remembered from my experience last time and knew from all instances of just swatching the pencils that, especially for the price you pay, the Inktense pencils are pretty underwhelming as just colored pencils. They can't do anything better than Prismacolor can in that department. So I didn't waste my time on a new dry/colored pencil format only drawing with them, and instead jumped straight away into using them with water, which still seems to be the place they shine brightest. Just to deviate for a second before I get into that, though; I noticed during my swatching and some less pretty testing that the new Inktense pencils had the same issue I'd had with the older ones; when you start to really apply pressure and pile on the color/pigment, the pencils have almost a "sticky" type feeling to them and some of the pigment sort of grinds itself into the paper, and it looks pretty weird. There's just a lot of friction between the pencil and the paper in an uncomfortable way. I wouldn't say it's a dealbreaker, but it is something to watch out for and just another reason I don't think these are worth investing in if you're not going to use them with water. Speaking of which... I started by stamping my trees on some watercolor paper--and not the dinky stuff, this is nice 100% cotton cold pressed paper, so it has enough texture for colored pencils and can handle plenty of water--masked said trees with some washi tape, and then I scribbled in some rough color placement with the pencils, knowing the pigment would spread pretty far once it got wet and that no matter what I did I'd probably be doing a lot of back and forth between smoothing/blending out the colors and adding more. I was reminded pretty quickly of the fact that compared to regular watercolor pencils, the Inktense pencils take more water to melt the color down, as well as sometimes if you press too firmly when you put the color down initially, the pencil strokes may not want to fully melt anyway. In this case, that issue had its uses, given the traditional look of the aurora borealis, or Northern Lights, but if you like super smooth blending and you want the colored pencil texture to completely go away when you hit the color with water, I have to strongly suggest staying away from these. After wetting my first scribbly layer, I started the cycle that I knew was coming and started scribbling a little bit here, a little there, on the still-wet paper. This and dipping the tips of the pencils into the water and then scribbling with them tend to be the better ways to work with them, at least from my experience. Taking a brush to the pencil tip and/or applying the pencil and then wetting it with a brush works fine for lighter washes, but the best color payout comes from, like I said, either taking the pencil directly to wet paper or dipping the pencil tip in water to make it into a creamy, oil-pastel type consistency. I did a lot of dipping the tip into water and using that combined with the wet paper to blend out my colors, and I have to say while the white Inktense pencil still fails to impress me on its own, it does work pretty nicely as a blender, at least when it's wet. Beyond what I've already mentioned, the main issues I had while working on this piece mostly came down to getting the right color depth/intensity where I wanted it and making sure everything blended out the way I wanted, which was all more on me than it was the pencils. Once I was pretty much finished with the Inktense portion of the picture before it dried I was still a little bit iffy on how it looked. It was still more streaky than I was convinced it should've been, and I wasn't entirely sure about the colors themselves being what I'd hoped for either. But I let it dry overnight and I felt a lot better about it when I came back to it the next day. Maybe it just needed to dry and settle, maybe I just needed to refresh my eyes, maybe both; I don't know. Still, I went in and did my best to do the star-splatter with the white Inktense pencil. And while this does technically work, it takes a lot longer and loads more patience than just grabbing my bottle of white Speedball ink would've, but I refrained in the name of experimentation and trying to push the Inktense a bit farther. It's also weirdly not as precise, since the Inktense pigment really doesn't like leaving the pencil, so it comes off as a little thicker on the brush and therefore has less good star-producing taps in it then the liquid ink does. Needless to say, I did end up touching that up a little with a white gel pen, as always. Then I unmasked my trees and filled in some spots/went back over some that weren't black enough with a Copic multiliner and did my signature with it as well so it wouldn't be too distracting. After that, since I had originally drawn out a circle as the share I wanted to work in, I cut the circle out and just for ambiance I went along the exposed edge of the paper with a black marker. In the end, the final product does look quite nice and I feel more like I've properly seen this idea through. (Although I make no promises this will be the last time it pops up in my gallery. ) Still, my opinion on the Inktense remains pretty firm that they are a unique, albeit pretty fun thing to play with when you use them with water. But if you're not going to do that, I wouldn't bother investing in them when there are plenty of other options out there that do the plain colored pencil job a lot better. Even Derwent has like four or five different artist-grade pencil lines to choose from just for that purpose if you're extremely loyal to them as a brand for some reason. For me and my purposes though, I would still like to get my hands on the full 72 set at some point and I do think I will continue to play around with them in the meantime. They're interesting and they do have their uses for me as someone who tends to favor mixed-media art. I'm really excited for the next piece I've got going up for you guys though; it turned out so well and I can't wait to share it! And of course, I have some projects in the works that I hope end up being equally exciting, so keep an eye out for what's coming up. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[mysticsparklewings]

Wire Sunset (+ Time Lapse!)

An attempt at a speed draw/time-lapse number 3! Link: youtu.be/BllxcQOvWQg I'm trying to get myself into something of a habit with these, just to see how it goes over time. This one is a bit different though, as this isn't exactly a typical drawing for me. The drawing is more fitting with my little collection of sky hexagons I did a while back. So what gives? Well, before I did my Happy dAnniversary to Me! piece on the tan paper, I had actually planned to do it on my gray paper, and I got as far as most of the line art...Except I had already run into the problem of the gray paper being unusually difficult to see my sketch through when using my lightbox (which is still exceptionally weird to me, considering the tan paper does just fine ) and then to top that off my own hand was just not cooperating with me.  So I decided to save myself some frustration and just use the tan paper instead. I wasn't really sure what to do with the gray paper after that. It was already a "scrap" piece, leftover from cutting a piece down for Applet, and now it was being scrapped again. I couldn't very well try tracing another sketch, as I'd partially already learned my lesson with that (it is possible, as I've done it before with mild success, it's just that the sketch needs to be dark/have a layer of pen on top and my hand needs to be in the mood to be steady) and now I had pre-existing lines that would get in my way. That reality didn't leave me with a ton of options. For a little while, I toyed with the idea of doing a galaxy/sky piece before going through my camera roll to see if I had any sunset pictures I wanted to try my hand at. And more than ever I wished for a set of tree/leaf stamps to make my life easier because there's something just really appealing to me about having the pretty sunset colors broken up by stark black tree branches and stuff, and trying to draw those details out has just always felt like way too much work that never turns out quite right to me. (And very very easy to screw up.) But ultimately I did a bit of practicing and decided to just go for it and hope for the best. To be fair, the majority of my time was actually spent building up the color for the sunset in the background. I started with Faber Castell Polychromos, and that might have been a mistake? For whatever reason, despite them working just fine on the tan paper on my first test piece with them and on my Stellaluna picture, miraculously, they just weren't turning out very pigmented on the gray paper.  Like I really needed the white and lighter yellows to be bright and pop and they just refused. I tried not to; I really did. But I ended up having to pull out my Prismacolors for the majority of the good color payoff. The Polychromos did make a good base and gave me something of a starting point, but as far as the pigment, on the gray paper, they couldn't touch Prismacolor. Side note: Originally, I hadn't planned on using the Neon Orange Prismacolor, but the bottom portion of the sunset was supposed to be really bright and I wasn't sure how to get any of the pencils to do what I wanted, so I tried it on a whim and over the pink it actually looked really nice! Also, I ended up using this blender pencil by Derwent when I noticed I was seeing too much of the pencil strokes for my liking. I've had the blender for a while; I just haven't given myself much opportunity to use it. When doing reviews/first impressions/tests for colored pencils, I try to keep it fair and not use the blender to see how the pencils stand on their own, and half of the time I just don't think to use it otherwise. And, if I'm being completely honest, I've always still had a bit of a bad taste in my mouth (metaphorically speaking) left from the Prismacolor blender pencil. That's actually part of why I bought the Derwent blender in the first place: I had to see if all blender pencils were that difficult to work with. The Prismacolor blender technically does its job, but I feel like I always have to press way too hard to get it to work properly, and even then it doesn't always do what I want. Just after I got the Derwent one, I did a small side-by-side comparison with just some little circles and color swatches, and IT WAS SO MUCH BETTER LET ME TELL YOU. It doesn't take nearly as much presser, and I would argue it's just better overall. And I think it has to do with the Derwent one having just a little bit of a white/neutral pigment in it, as you can kind of tell that if you sample both blenders on a non-white paper. It's not enough to really notice when you're actually using it to blend, though. I'm not sure how that science works out, but hey, it's saving me hand pain and making my drawings look smoother, so I'm happy. Many layers of colored pencil and blender later, it was time to add something so it looked like more than just blobs of color on a page. I used a ruler to get a few lines, but beyond that, I was mostly free-handing everything (I did look up some extra reference for the birds, but I wasn't super picky about them) and I was trying not to be too picky about symmetry and everything be perfect and all that. (Hence why the power line pole might look a bit wonky). I learned pretty quickly my black markers didn't seem to like going over all the colored pencil wax at all. This worked out in my favor for the actual power lines, as even in my photo reference they looked a bit spotty like this, but those trees... Both of my Copic Multiliners, my Prismacolor liner I used on the pole, my black Sakura gelly roll I used for the birds, even my ultra-fine tip black Sharpie...NONE of them wanted to do those trees! You can see me constantly having to scribble on my scratch paper in the video to get through them. Ultimately, the Prismacolor liner worked the best, but that wasn't saying much. I think I would've been okay if I had stuck to just using the Polychromos, as they're oil-based and I've noticed my gel pens don't fight over top of them alone that much, and I have definitely had plenty of problems with my gel pens trying to go over wax-based pencils like the Prismacolors in the past. And dare I say the Derwent blender pencil probably did not help with that, either. Either way, I did manage to get through it. After that, I cut the edges off where my pencil strokes didn't go quite all the way, then had to cut a bit more to kind of straighten it a little. Then I grabbed my metallic cardstock and cut a piece down to mount the picture on. Neither are particularly straight because I was using an Exacto knife and my own judgment rather than a paper cutter, but eh, I'll live. (I have since borrowed my mom's paper cutter for future endeavors.) In the video you can see me applying mod podge to the back on the picture semi-off screen because I was trying to hide my jacked-up, unused line art.   Then I decided I needed one more bird to cover up a small smudge that was bothering me and signed it with my purple gelly roll, hoping my signature would blend in a bit more that way. (Not entirely sure that succeeded, but whatever.) Overall, I am quite happy with how it turned out  Though I'm not sure how this managed to be the longest video since I felt like it took the shortest amount of time, yet looking back I guess it actually didn't Next up, I've been toying around with some watercolors, so there's that. No clue what I'm going to do for the next Time Lapse, but we'll see. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram