#slowly refining my john design

[bunnyfan194]

Also here’s my piece for the project! (I also sang that line in the video!)

this past extra life day (11/2/24) I had the pleasure of being a part of an incredible fan tribute project in the style of The Discovery Channel boom de yada song to honor Harlan and Jo Guthrie ( @malevolentcast ) and the incredible community that they've built and that i get to be a part of!!

@redundare organized the project over a month in advance and we all worked so hard on this vid so Harlan could air it during his & Jo’s 24 hour extra life stream

we set out with the goals of:

Make Jo cry (SUCCESS)

Send a bunch of donations while the video was airing so we could push for a huge amount of donos and collectively bump up the total donations by several THOUSAND total dollars (SUCCESS)

so please enjoy the fruits of our labor!

Everyone is credited at the end of the video, but in addition to @redundare , I’d like to directly tag my fellow contributors (in no particular order):

@dandelionbomb @lambdalegend @koscheyyy @creekschaoscorner @threearmsally @shadow0haven @dani-r @nerdfaerie @lizard-of-lore @marixmoon0702 @sleepinbird @sixstepsback @necrodancerscrypt @thecaptainsdesk @marimo-art

[runwayrunway]

No. 23 - Icelandair (With an Aside on the Role of Flag Carriers)

Sure, let's talk about Icelandair! I think they fit in pretty well with the conversation that's been slowly playing out with other European flag carriers Lufthansa and SAS about the evolution of liveries as we stumble in to the 2020s proper. (As for the second half of this ask, hold that thought for just a minute.)

Unfortunately, Lufthansa snuck its nasty little face into this post as well, and I do sort of want to give a brief content warning, as a...certain sordid point in Germany's history is alluded to, though not lingered on. Because flag carriers are sort of important. They're propaganda - and in Icelandair's case, that's okay!

Icelandair is not a concept that needs much explanation. It's right there in the title. It is an airline, and it is from Iceland. If you want a little more information, here's a summary written in 1997 by John K. Morton for his book "Jetliner Glory". (Scan mine)

As you can see, Icelandair was, at this point, rocking a supersized nothingburger of a livery. With just a cheatline and some paint on the bottom of the nacelles to accompany the logo and wordmark it feels less like SAS's belly stripes or Tibet Airlines, where it looks like a plane painted white, and feels more like they just forgot to add the rest of the livery.

While I do slightly prefer this older take with the more faded colours, the bare metal underside, and the contoured down-sloping cheatline, it's still pretty nothing.

Oh no. Oh nonononono don't do that please don't-

Thank you. That's much less worse.

The blue-and-yellow livery was adopted in 2006. I don't like this but this feels necessary. What stands out to me about Icelandair, above any individual feature of their fleet, is that they are fundamentally incapable of departing from whatever the most simplified and common design trend of the time is.

70s and early 80s. Single rule cheatline, large font wordmark, bare metal lower half.

80s and early 90s. All over paint, text moved forward to just behind the forwardmost door. Beginning of strict adherence to Eurowhite en masse.

Aughts to late 2010s. This is an era of somewhat refined Eurowhite. This allows very specific colored parts of the airframe: a block of color on the underside, a detached floating tail, colored winglets, and colored nacelles.

My opinion of this specific livery is that it is nearly identical to Delta's. Similar dark blue shade, exact same layout. The only difference is that Delta's blue engines make the livery look more coherent and Delta's logo is far more distinctive. I consider Delta to be the platonic ideal of this type of 2000s Eurowhite, and Icelandair uses the exact same layout.

I will say...it could be worse. Icelandair does not fail the Star Alliance test, so I cannot give it an F.

It's getting a D, for Delta.

But hey! Great news! They literally just unveiled a new one! And they've given me a nice webpage describing their thought process. I keep seeing more and more airlines do this with their 2020s livery releases and I think it's awesome.

image: icelandair

And they're jellybeans! I make no secret for my love of jellybeans. These come in five colours: boreal blue, magenta, sky blue, yellow, and green. Each of them is meant to represent a different aspect of Icelandic natural phenomenae, which I would expect at least partially stems from the response to their widely beloved Hekla Aurora and Vatnajökull liveries.

The two colours not pictured above: boreal blue (left) and green (right)

I really like these choices of colour. I think my favourite is ultimately magenta because of how striking its contrast is with the main blue, but none of these look even a little bad.

I do wish there was a little more integration of the jellybean colours into the rest of the livery (maybe the winglets or the engine nacelles, or as an outline on the wordmark, or extended to the underside of the plane), but the concept itself is solid and each colourway is pleasing. While I think this is a welcome change from the earlier yellow-and-blue scheme I am very happy that they kept a yellow variant.

Red engine SAS livery jumpscare in the background.

I would say the main thing I dislike about the new livery is the billboard wordmark. It's fine in theory but I utterly despise the typeface they've chosen and I find that sans-serif typefaces look fine when they're small but get uglier and uglier the larger you make them. It's a very boring downgrade, especially compared to the tasteful little serifs on the very tips of the old one. They were a minor aerodynamic touch but they were very nice compared to this, which is giving corporate brochure in a way I can't stand. At least it keeps the middle fuselage from being blank, I suppose.

I do like it a lot better on the Dash 8, though it's a little too low to the bottom for my taste. They could solve this by just making it slightly smaller, but they've apparently fully committed to a font that is, in my opinion, too large and widely spaced.

I feel like they also missed an opportunity with their logo. I've seen people say that it's a stylised 'F' to represent the company's first name, Flugfélag. I've heard someone else say that it reminds them of a stylised aurora, and I agree with them. I think there was a lot of room to play with both of these, and that it's a shape that's simple enough and dynamic enough to lend itself well to livery design, and that they could have created something so much better had they made more use of it - especially with the jellybean colours.

The final thing I want to point out is the tail. It's very blatant that the 2020s equivalent of the detached tail is the slightly-integrated tail, which loops down and just prevents the tail from being detached while still leaving the majority of the fuselage blank white without really adding much visual interest or presenting much in the way of creativity.

SAS and WestJet are two other airlines from those I've covered which do this. Now, they could both be a lot worse - WestJet has a nice wordmark and I've already talked about why SAS does a lot that's more interesting than the tail - but I can't deny that I dislike this trend. It fixes the ugliness of Detached Tail Syndrome but without adding much. It is the bare minimum. It is an upgrade from bad to nothing. And I think it's worth noting that both of these airlines, and indeed the majority of airlines with slightly-integrated tails, used to have detached tails. The Lufthansa clone of the 2020s is the Delta clone of the 2010s.

But I think Icelandair's new livery requires comparison to one 2020s livery more than any other - our old 'friend', Lufthansa.

The reason I point out Lufthansa is that unlike SAS and WestJet it does not feature a curve, but a straight line downwards. It also features more than one colour on the tail itself, sort of - I mean, it has the contrasting white stripe.

I don't think I particularly need to linger on why I like Icelandair's livery so much better than I like Lufthansa's. But I will point out one aspect in particular. The descriptions of the inspiration behind Lufthansa's livery focus on how sleek and modern it is. It occasionally mentions nebulous 'German values' (a phrase which in context refers to Europe's obsession with the most hideous sans-serif fonts on the face of the planet and soul-sucking minimalist white design but which sort of makes me shudder as a disabled bisexual Jew, a set of traits seemingly min-maxxed for being a target of...well, you know) but beyond that is wholly and almost gleefully corporate, scoffing in the face of the fact that flag carriers are almost by design intended to be unprofitable, to provide air transport to residents of their country and to serve as propaganda.

Air France lost heaps of money on Concorde, Alitalia went fourteen years without turning a profit, and do you think carriers like Rwandair or Air Niugini, which just don't have the demand to operate planes filled to capacity, are able to make money? Of course not, but they operate anyway because people need to get places and it's a statement for a government, especially one without the means of a massive European power with centuries of stolen resources at its disposal or an ultrawealthy Gulf state, to put their names on a plane and say that this is a service they are providing to the people they are, on paper, meant to provide for.

This is not a feature unique to airlines - just think about the way high-speed rail in China and Japan are inherently tied to their national identities, as something these countries have built as a service to their people and as something which makes them better places to live. Think about the Space Race, which was a dick-measuring contest more than it was for science. The US government is notorious for its unwillingness to fund science projects but if it means sticking it to the reds it's worth a couple billion to put a man on the moon.

Any sort of project which invents or builds by necessity becomes a symbol of national power. Sometimes these things are useful, like high-speed rail, and sometimes they advance science, like reaching the moon, but, like...did Ferrari World need to exist, or is the UAE willing to spend a bunch of money to say "look how awesome we are, we have the fastest roller-coaster in the world"? Did the USSR need the Tu-144? Of course not - luxury air transport wasn't a thing, they couldn't charge a premium, and there wasn't anywhere safe to release a sonic boom over, and it was rushed out in a state that couldn't really be considered airworthy just to serve for less than a year while diverting resources from actually useful aerospace projects. The Tu-144 set back Soviet aerospace engineering by decades but it was worth it for the chance to say they built the first supersonic airliner, which will remain technically true forever. Countries are chomping at the bit to displace people and abuse labourers and waste money and resources to build stadiums that will lie derelict for the rest of time just to get to say they hosted the Olympics.

These things are worth losing money for. To say 'we are willing to lose money to give our people transport and to have our own airline with our own flag on it'. Flag carriers do not need to be profitable. If they happen to turn a profit that's a good thing for the country but it's not meant to be the point. That the US has never had a flag carrier feels like a very pointed statement to me - no handouts, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and build your own damn airline. While many large airlines elsewhere have their own founders with their own marks on history and large personalities, none of them have the cultural capital that Juan Trippe or Howard Hughes do. Icelandair's equivalent of Juan Trippe is the aurora.

I cannot imagine a carrier which reflects its national identity less than Lufthansa does. Perhaps they want to forget that they are a flag carrier and by this nature propaganda. After all, despite being largely a different entity, they bear the name of a flag carrier founded by the Third Reich. They had an easy out of this. They could have stuck with their initial name, Luftag. They could even have taken the name and branding of Interflug, the East German flag carrier, but better to be founded by the actual Third Reich than by the Communists, from their perspective. It's probably better to lean as far away from what they were made to be as possible. And from their point of view to be as corporate as possible is actually probably a reflection of what there is to love about Germany, given that this is their background. I find that incredibly sad. If I were German, this would make me furious. There is so much more to Germany than anything Lufthansa has ever been. It is insulting not just to my eyes but to the idea that it is meant to be part of German identity.

Meanwhile, Icelandair's inspiration is Iceland: the natural features which make their country worth visiting. They are aware of this - they actually used the Hekla Aurora livery to promote the fact that they offered free week-long stopovers in Iceland. Their website explicitly lays, interspersed with images of aurora over snowy mountainous landscapes which seem to stretch on forever, that this is what Iceland has to offer.

And since we spend so much time in the sky, we drew inspiration from what we see in front of us, and what we see in our country from above. [...] By extending our color palette, we have a chance to bring the vibrant Icelandic spirit to the world, and to show the world the diversity of our people: The Icelandic spirit is available to anyone and everyone who wants to share in it.

At the end of the day, flag carriers are a form of propaganda. That word normally has a very nasty connotation, but it doesn't have to be things like war crime coverups and attempts to quell rebellion. In this case, it can be an encouragement for Icelandic people to be proud of something about their country as well as an attempt to drum up tourism. Is it still a calculated attempt to sell you something? Sure. But it's an attempt to sell something Icelandic people are proud of, because they live somewhere with beautiful features that don't exist anywhere else. I really want to visit Iceland, and have for years, for the exact reasons outlined in Icelandair's material about their new livery.

And does this livery actually overtly communicate these things? No, not really. I think it's something you can see when you have it explained to you but wouldn't notice at a glance. But the fact that this was considered at all, much like condor's justification for their flying striped nightmares, keeps me from feeling the same sort of disgust I do for liveries like Lufthansa's.

So, Icelandair could do a lot better. But they're doing a lot better than they ever have before. And they have succeeded, fundamentally, at being Icelandair.

I leave them with a final grade of C.

It could be better. Far better. But they're at least using the right equation to get the wrong answer. If they ever get the courage to design something which doesn't follow the dominant trends in whatever the decade's particular flavour of Eurowhite is as if it's copied from a template, I think Icelandair could come up with something really great, and I hope I live long enough to see it.

And, as a final note on their commitment to their national identity, I will be discussing their three non-crossover special liveries: Þingvellir, Vatnajökull, and this blog's first twice-requested livery, Hekla Aurora. But they will get their own post, because this one is already preposterously long, so get ready to see a lot more Iceland very very soon.

(...I really want to visit Iceland.)

[amirahunit04]

PERSONAL STATEMENT

I'm a very observant person, focusing on tunnel vision which helps me pinpoint priorities and anticipate challenges that I could encounter allowing me to think of solutions ahead of time. Gaining interest in art at four years old, helped me to block out all the chaos that was happening in my life. It was an outlet for prominent emotions in a creative and productive manner. When I was struggling, I found this outlet to be invaluable. Dorothy Draper inspires me, she combines different art styles, that make her interior design feel fresh, flamboyant and with a quirky side of elegance. Another interior designer that inspires me is John Saladino. His style is appealing to me because he uses refined material and immense detail to create spaces that are clean, chic and comfortable. I also watch interior design videos, which allow me to get a much more in-depth view of what interior design is, and how to mesh different styles together to create comfortable living spaces, which is something I wish to do as I am very passionate about this subject. I wanted a career in Interior Design, since I was a child, I was fascinated by interiors of different buildings. I would use recycle materials, create papier-mâché buildings and use left-over newspaper to create wallpaper. I completed a project where I sculpted a mini city, which was an example for my final project based on buildings, enabling me to visualise ideas better. Using different techniques such as, a digital city design sketch, cardboard/ paper to create buildings and Adobe After Effects to develop visuals that would be projected onto the buildings. This furthered both my art and digital skills. I learnt to use different Adobe apps, such as Illustrator, which I use to create most of my patterns and digital art, Photoshop, which I use to manipulate my photographs and create graphic poster. I studied on an Art and Design course where I expanded my drawing and painting skills and my knowledge of a wide range of artists work. Interior Design is every bit as exciting and progressive. As styles and tastes change, so do the interiors we live in and use daily. Interior Design interests me because of the story that is told through the design, materials and aesthetics of the buildings. You can follow the history of a place through the Interior Design and see the vision for the future. I want to create more eco-friendly homes/spaces, and to construct inside/outside living spaces using materials that will not vitiate the world. I'm passionate about this because if we don't help the earth then the generations after us will not be able to see the world's beauty like we have. Instead, they will live in a world that is slowly decaying and disintegrating before their eyes. During 2021, I gained work experience with a company called Lendlease Hoardings. I worked as part of a team that created hoarding to go outside the Commonwealth games building site. The purpose of the hoarding was to inform the public about single use plastics and the adverse effects on nature. This taught me how to communicate with clients professionally and effectively and to deliver within a strict time frame. I learned from this experience how to use criticism constructively to improve my work. Doing this meant that the client was excited and inspired with what we produced. I learned how to communicate and co-create within a team, which helped us to combine our ideas together and come to a final idea that we were satisfied with. This developed my skill in Adobe Illustrator to create the hoarding designs. This enhanced my skills as a designer. Studying on an Interior design course will give me an opportunity to bring all my skills together and focus on learning all the specific skills needed to work with the industry. I aim to improve my designing skills and elevate my work. I am eager to extend my knowledge, skills and imagination and apply them to one day becoming part of the industry.

[m88n]

[9.01 pm] - when johnny suh makes for an unexpected companion after you got stood up in a valentine’s day date

►listen to ‘dance by offonoff if you’re in a bar’

You’re clad in your favorite black dress that hugs your curves in all the right places, adorned with precious silver jewellery and a pair of black stilettos, complete with a soft glam look with glossy lips that glimmer in the low lights of the hotel bar. You made sure to look your best tonight, yet finding yourself sitting defeatedly on one of the bar stools, with your leather handbag limply perched on the table surface. You rest your elbows, delicately cupping your own cheeks while sighing softly to yourself.

Noticing your movements, a bartender slowly makes his way towards you after attending to the other patrons in the relatively empty bar. This doesn’t come as a surprise, as this particular bar venue would not be accessible to many, due to the nature of its pricing and overall exclusivity. That would also be the reason why you made sure to dress up really well in the first place.

“What can I get you, miss?” He asks politely as he continues wiping glasses behind the counter with a washcloth.

“Two shots of absinthe, please.” You sighed out.

Although the bartender exercises an unsurprised look given your response, you could sense that he’d be a little concerned with your drink of choice given its strength. But before he could interject, you feel a slight movement occupying the empty spot next to yours.

“What’s a beautiful lady doing taking solo absinthe shots during the night of Valentine’s Day?” The stranger asks after settling in his seat. You fixate your eyes on the soft glow of the bar lights reflected on the surfaces of the liquor bottles, not even bothering to take a look at the man now seated beside you. A stranger trying to butt his way into your business would normally bother you, but tonight, it really seems like you really couldn’t care less about anything, anymore.

“She’ll have a blue lagoon. I’ll have the standard whiskey on the rocks.” He promptly says to the bartender.

You finally bring yourself to turn your head to take a look at this stranger, and you’d be lying if you said the sight you’ve been presented with fails to take your breath away. This man dons a crisp black vest and pants combination, elongating his already striking body proportions, with a black tie neatly tucked against the fitted white shirt he wears beneath his vest. His locks lush; slightly long, dark brown—slicked back accentuating his high cheekbones and prominent jawline. You don’t fail to notice this man wearing a pair of black leather loafers to complete his entire polished ensemble. He looks nothing short than a million dollars—yet somehow doing so without appearing loud and gaudy. You won’t even disagree if someone were to say that he’d be sophistication and refined personified.

“Oh, apologies miss for my interruption, my name’s John.” He chuckles, putting his hand in between you two. “My friends sometimes call me Johnny, but whatever works for you.”

You snap yourself out of your daze and gingerly takes the hand that’s been offered to you. You notice that his hand is warm against your own, almost as if thawing the emptiness you’ve surrendered yourself to. His grip is gentle, yet firm, as he shakes your hands to solidify your acknowledgements of each other.

“..I’m y/n.” You finally say, meeting his gaze.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” He says as he maintains deep eye contact with you, not forgetting to wear an inviting smile, drawing you in even further into his charms.

“I promise you, you’ll love the drink I got you.” He grins, faint whiskers forming on his cheeks as he leans against the bar table.

“What, do all the girls you approach in a bar seem to like it too?” You scoff, reminding yourself to put your guard up against an attractive man that approaches you out of nowhere.

He hums to himself, then simply pulls a smirk.

“You could call me a connoisseur in these kinda things,” He says, cocking his eyebrows.

You let out a chuckle in response. “Sure, let’s see what you’ve got then. Even if you didn’t really answer what I asked.”

“There we go,” He smiles to himself as he takes a look at you, leaning against his hand that’s been resting on the table.

“…What?” You ask.

“Your smile’s so pretty, and I finally get to see what it looks like.” He answers simply.

You scoff in utter disbelief, yet unable to suppress the smile trying to break through your reserves.

“What, have you been looking at me from afar or something, Mr. John Doe?” You tease.

“What if I said yes, would you believe me?” He asks with half lidded eyes and a slight smile, not letting you up.

“Whiskey on the rocks, and a blue lagoon for the lady.” The bartender says as he places your drinks in front of you, finally directing your attention elsewhere other than Johnny’s pair of eyes.

“Thanks, man.” Johnny says.

“No problem, Mr. Suh.” The bartender responds.

“You come here often?” You ask him after a beat of hesitation. If he does, then you conclude that he has to be a man of at least considerable status, fame, or power. If he does, then it makes you wonder all the more as to why he chooses to approach you and perhaps, keep you company.

“I do, sometimes. I like it here since it doesn’t get crowded much.” He answers simply. “You cold? I have a puffy jacket you could wear on top.” He continues as he carelessly grabs a black coat that’s been sitting on the table beside him. It wouldn’t take a genius to notice that the coat he’s offering you at the moment is in fact, a designer puffer coat. Not that you’d be surprised at this point.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, John.” You smile at him. You feel yourself clamming up a little due to the thought process you’ve had earlier.

“Okay then, suit yourself,” He says in a sing-song voice, shrugging his shoulders. He briefly gets up from his seat to place his coat on the table surface next to your seat, before quickly returning to his seat. “It’s there if you need it.”

Your smile grows wider, and maybe, a lot more genuine as you notice the sincerity in his gesture.

“Thanks, John.”

“Alright, let’s drink up,” He says, before swiftly unbuttoning his cuffs then rolling his sleeves up—and you can’t help but to notice his toned biceps. You try your best not to gawk, but you can’t lie, you feel a little weak in the knees at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He says as he slicks back some loose strands of his hair.

“….Haha, what a sleazeball,” You say, chuckling nervously to yourself.

“Sure thing baby,” He says, lifting his glass of whiskey on the rocks, “Let’s cheers,”

You feel your face heat up, your lips threatening to break into a wide smile, as you palm your forehead in an attempt to center yourself. You finally take your glass of blue lagoon to meet his cheers.

“Too much?” He asks, examining your reactions.

You clink your glasses.

“Don’t worry about it.” You answer, chuckling, still in disbelief.

You finally take a sip of your blue lagoon, pleasantly surprised with the taste of the drink—it’s everything you love: it’s fruity, fresh, and sweet—with a hint of citrus. You must’ve looked pleasantly surprised as you could sense Johnny smirking from your periphery.

“Did I hit the mark?” He asks, as he studies your expression intently, a smug smile pasted on his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, you actually really did.” You sigh out, smiling to yourself. “You really got that whole connoisseur thing going on, huh? You’re not just all talk,”

He lets out a hearty chuckle at your comment.

“I’m glad you like.” He says before taking another sip of his drink.

As you take another sip of your drink, you can’t help but notice that it really does taste so good. You could tell that it wouldn’t be the hardest or most expensive drink to make, but it really does fit your tastes a little bit too well for it to be a mere blind guess.

“Okay, Mr. Big Shot Connoisseur, what are your trade secrets? I need to know,” You ask him, incredibly curious as to why he has your exact tastes pinned down to a T.

“Trade secrets?” He shrugs, “Don’t have any. I’m just that good.” He responds, wearing a smug smile.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“You doubting me?” He asks you playfully.

“Hell yeah, I’d be doubting you.” You scoff as you take Johnny’s jacket, quickly draping it over your shoulders. “A connoisseur’s a connoisseur, but a connoisseur won’t be some oracle, you get me?”

“You’re still doubting me even when I saw that coming,” He says, eyeing his coat now hanging over your shoulders.

You laugh at his remark. “Shut up,” You manage to say, “I’m just honestly really curious. Did I seem like the type who would like this drink or something?”

For the first time tonight, he refrains from quipping in his usual whimsical tone. Instead, he holds an indecipherable gaze towards your eyes, which takes you a bit off guard as the air seems to have changed a little.

He hums, gently swirling his cup of whiskey with his hand, before taking another sip.

“What if…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at you, “...I tell you that my trade secret is that I’ve actually known that you’d like this type of drink?”

“Wh... What? What do you mean? It couldn’t be—Wait, are you actually an oracle?” You ask him, taken by complete surprise.

He laughs at your hasty accusation, before looking at you with a knowing gaze.

“Miss y/n, we’ve met two times before tonight.” He answers you with a slight smile, holding a gentle gaze towards you. “Actually, once really. The other time I really just watched you from afar. So would you look at that, your guess was on the mark.” He finishes, before taking another sip from his glass of whiskey.

You’re left with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, before resting your fingers against your forehead, trying to fetch any hints of Johnny in your memories.

He chuckles at your antics, “We met at Skye. That night, when the whole venue was rented out for Jimin’s birthday party.”

Skye. Jimin’s birthday party. Jimin.

Then you vaguely remember a memory of a tall, long-legged man helping you get up after you puked your guts out, then taking you to a taxi stand, waiting for you until you get a ride home. You recall him insisting that he’d give you a ride home for you to be safe, but you declined his offer because you didn’t want Jimin thinking anything of it.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” Is all you could say after recalling all that.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it, y/n.” He quips after seeing you zone out, “It’s Valentine’s Day, let’s drink your blue lagoon and live it up or something. I didn’t come out here for you to be sorry.”

You finally brave yourself by looking at him in the face, “….Why didn’t you just say you knew me from the start?”

“And what? Introduce myself, being all like, ‘Hey, my name’s John, I’ve noticed you from weeks ago during that one party at that one venue and since then I’ve had my eyes on you, but haven’t had the chance to make any moves until I see you all alone in this bar I’m a patron of’ …And expect you to not turn the other way and run away from me? I’m not taking any chances, y/n,” He answers lightheartedly, before taking a sip of his drink.

You let out a hearty chuckle at his clever remark. You decide that spending Valentine’s Day with John isn’t so bad after all. It might even be much better than you’d expect.

“Yeah, Jimin’s an ass.” You say offhandedly. “Should’ve seen that coming. He was the one who stood me up tonight.”

You look at John, noticing the way he’s seemingly restraining himself from responding the way he immediately wanted to.

“Out with it.” You say to him.

“Wh-what..?” He feigns ignorance.

“I know you wanna say something. Out with it. Lay it on me.”

“Naah, there are times when you gotta hold—"

“I thought we were gonna live it up tonight, and if we do, we gotta live it up with complete realness. You’ve seen me as a complete mess anyway,” You chuckle.

“Okay, okay, alright.... Would it be bad that I kinda thank Jimin for being an ass? I wouldn’t get this close to you otherwise,”

You chuckle in disbelief, before gently punching his arm. “Yeah, alright, maybe we gotta have limits.”

You notice his eyes quivering in the slightest, sensing his worry in the way he’s handled the situation.

“I’m joking, John. Not gonna lie, Valentine’s been real fun with you.” You chuckle at him, rubbing the spot on his arm that you’ve punched earlier. You don’t fail to notice the way his face flushes a light pink at your touch. “I, too, now, am glad that Jimin’s an ass. Otherwise how am I gonna be treated to a blue lagoon by a real connoisseur?” You finish smugly, bringing your glass in between you two.

Johnny laughs at your response, before looking at you with a warm smile.

“You really are something else, y/n.” He muses, looking at you gently as he leans his head against his hand.

You gaze at him with the same gentleness, smiling at the man who’s been treating you with nothing but kindness.

“…Cheers to Jimin, I guess.” He says, bringing his glass to meet yours.

“Cheers to Jimin.” You say, chuckling, clinking your glasses.

You both take time in downing your drinks in order to defuse the slight tension carried in the topic you’ve discussed earlier, revelling in the quiet Valentine’s night in an expensive hotel bar, having each other as unlikely companies—yet somehow still finding yourselves with each other.

“One very important thing hasn’t been cleared up, though.” You finally say.

“What would that be, miss y/n?” He asks you.

“How’d you know I’d like blue lagoon?” You finally ask him, hoping to finally get an actual answer.

He chuckles at your question. “Alright, don’t hate me for this.” He says, as a smile breaks onto his face.

You look at him quizzically. “What? Why?”

“That night, when you… Threw up,” He says, in the midst of light chuckling, “You kept on complaining to me that you had to take whiskey shots because you’d feel bad asking Jimin to get you a cocktail—a Sex on the Beach—and you were saying that so much—‘I wanted a SEX ON THE BEACH, a SEX ON THE BEACH, in the middle of a crowded venue, and everyone looked at you,”

You palm your face from the utter embarrassment, recalling that such event did actually take place upon further look into the fuzzier contents of your mind.

“Just get to the reason dude, I know you’re telling me in such great detail just cause you wanted to see me flustered,”

He laughs at your reaction, “Damn, that was so funny though. That was the time that I really did think, dang, this girl’s a keeper or something—anyways,”

Your eyes widen at the remark he let out with complete lightness, feeling your cheeks warm up almost instantaneously—in no way you’re going to let that slide without reacting to it in some way.

“Yeah, so, when we met the second time, or more like, I looked at you from afar, it was at this underground bar, and you finally got your Sex on the Beach then, and I was like ‘Oh, she finally got her Sex on the Beach, good for her’!” He says with a thumbs up, earning a flustered smack on the arm from you, as you partially cover your face with your other hand from embarrassment.

“But then I heard you saying to Jimin, ‘They always get the schnapps and juice to vodka ratio wrong in some places,’”

“Wow, details.” You say whimsically, however not hiding the obvious flusteredness you’re feeling from his whole recollection.

“Yeah, so, when I actually got the chance to sweep you off your feet as this handsome stranger at the bar during Valentine’s day, I’d like to introduce you to a similar summery drink that this guy makes,” He gestures at the bartender, “And he does make a mean blue lagoon, if I do say so myself.”

“….Well, this handsome stranger did sweep me off my feet with a glass of blue lagoon, so, awesome job,” You say, still chuckling in disbelief with how your Valentine’s turned out to be. “I guess you weren’t really lying when you said you’re a connoisseur.”

“Well…. I’m a connoisseur in many other areas too, baby,” He winks at you. “.…Too much?”

You chuckle, basking in the playful chemistry you both have been building since the moment you’ve met each other tonight.

“You know what, no.” You say, finally deciding to drop your attempts at a façade, as if you haven’t been thinking about that earlier either. “It’s not too much. Show me what those guns could do baby, let’s see if you could sweep me off my feet in other ways.” You say with an overdone, faux husky voice, earning a fit of laughter from him.

“Just so we’re clear, I’d want to eventually ask you on a proper date.”

“We can do that tomorrow babe, when you’re done giving me what I deserve on a Valentine’s night.”

He chuckles at you, looking at you almost in a painfully affectionate way.

“That’s a done deal.”

[ducktracy]

185. porky’s hero agency (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky, emperor jones), tedd pierce (gorgon, assistant), sara berner (porky’s mom)

the final porky cartoon for 1937, and what a busy year it’s been for him! hard to believe he had an entirely different voice, look, and demeanor just 8 months prior. even then, his character still had much to explore, as we see here—in this cartoon, he’s cast as a child again. curiously, bob clampett is often credited as the one who refined his personality into the one we know today (he did give him his iconic suit and tie), but, like everything else, it was more of a collaborative exploration by all of the directors.

the title card is one of the more interesting title cards in the warner bros. repertoire—it’s a photo of a porky statuette! bob clampett would make several statues during his time at WB and distribute them to his top animators. while the statue in the credits is painted over, you can view an unpainted model here!

here, porky dreams of the wonders of ancient greece, prancing around as the mythological messenger parkykarkus. however, a gorgon has her sights set on turning him into stone, and it requires some quick thinking from porky to weasel his way out of this mess.

bobe cannon animates the expositional sequence, with porky propped up in bed, sucked into a giant book full of greek myths. his mother (offscreen) tells him it’s time to go to sleep, but porky objects, protesting that he was just at the exciting part. cannon’s animation is easy to spot with his trademark buck teeth, yet the gestures he gives porky--finger points, turning the page, etc.--give him a nice dose of youthful energy as he recaps the story, telling tales of gorgons and “great great great” greek heroes.

nevertheless, a disembodied hand turns out the light, dismissing porky’s protests. he heaves a resigned sigh, lamenting how he wishes he could be a great greek hero. 

the cartoon doesn’t make any attempts to keep the dream sequence a surprise--instead, the face of the book’s cover takes up the entire screen, the pillars emblazoned on the front melting to life as we fade into ancient greece. and, as to be expected, our favorite porcine hero proudly stands in front of the building, proudly advertising “HERO FOR HIRE AGENCY -- PORKYKARKUS PROP.”

porkykarkus is a play on parkykarkus (”park your carcass”), a character on eddie cantor’s radio show “the chase & sanborn hour”. truck into porky’s services as he narrates over the specials:

“has anybody any eh-deh-deah-deah-dragons you want seh-seh-sleh-slay-slaye--rubbed out? or maybe ya have some, uh, fair meh-mai-meh-maide--honeys ya want rescued! it’s a peh-pleasure. is your daughter safe? phone eh-peh-porkykarkus at olympia 2222!”

porky’s narration, as always, is fun to listen to, and the physical advertisement has its own charm and appeal, with discounts and deals on certain rescues. not only that, but it’s a damn smart way to save money, having just the narration over the still frame. smart thinking!

conveniently, porky gets a phone call, sparking the tried and true “gear up for a big sprint but merely tinker on over to your destination” gag. as porky answers the phone, filling us in by repeating the hidden dialogue from the other line, we find out it’s the emperor--he wants one hero to go.

chuck jones’ layouts stick out quite strongly throughout this cartoon, especially in the human designs. porky’s statue of mercury is no exception--the bulbous nose and rounded body construction are all surefire trademarks of his work. porky grabs the messenger’s hat and winged shoes from the statue, never once taking a beat to stop as he hobbles along, dressing as he prepares to head out. woodblock sounds simulate the sound of his hooves clopping, but also add an extra jaunty jive to the merry score of “have you got any castles?” in the background, the cartoon’s motif. it would also be a merry melody courtesy of frank tashlin not even a year later.

with that, porky takes off, soaring in the skies like a pro with his winged shoes. if the scene wasn’t appealing enough with the overhead layouts, the animation of porky steadying himself is wonderfully smooth and fun--the cherry on top. he circles the palace where the emperor is located, swooping down to his destination. complete with airplane sound effects, of course.

“howdy, empy!” another bulbous-nosed jones character silences porky from behind his armchair. emperor jones (boy, who could that name reference, i wonder?) speaks in a ridiculously hilarious dialect, completed with a thick accent: “shh! i’m making a fireside chat with my sheeps!” his voice then slips into a rooseveltian draw as he coos “my friends, grecians and customers, this is emperor jones speaking...”

pan to the audience, which consists of a sea of smiling statues. this entire speech sequence is wonderful--not only is his terrible grammar terribly amusing, (”statistics show... what last season at this time was population in greece from 6,000 with 500 with 54 people, with 17 statues.”) but little touches such as one of the audience statues roasting marshmallows and later a hotdog over the fireplace, the emperor making his audience clap by pulling on ropes tied to their arms, and so forth make the entire charade highly amusing with lots of details to look out for. porky standing idly in the background, awkwardly fidgeting as he tries not to intrude is a great little piece of character animation as well.

the emperor gives the skinny, all while chowing down on a hotdog: a gorgon has been turning more and more people into statues, and they need a hero to steal her life-restoring needle in order to turn all of the statues back into humans again. the hero he has in mind is, of course, porky, who bashfully accepts the offer. when the emperor asks those in favor to raise their right hand, he pulls on a lever that causes all of the statues to raise their hands in unison, including a hand on a nearby clock. with a handshake, empy concludes “it’s a deal!”

one of the most impressive pieces of animation in the cartoon (i actually dedicated an entire drawing to it!) is when the emperor sends porky on his way, who waves goodbye as he flies through the air with his winged shoes. just as he tips his hat, he knocks into a pillar, which sends him tumbling upside down, but still airborne. the wings on his shoes form hands as they shake their fists in the glory of the good landing, with porky flashing a cheeky grin to the audience before spiraling lower in the air, regaining his balance, and barreling onward towards a smoldering volcano. the animation is full of life and character--though porky is consistently jolly in the B&W clampett cartoons, the grin towards the camera as he prides himself in his save is a great little touch of personality. slowly but surely, bits of character are now becoming more defined.

a gag that took me just now to recognize it--porky swoops into the heart of the volcano, where we spot the source of the black fumes pouring out the top: the gorgon statue factory. a merry score of “you’ve got something there” serves as some easy listening as we’re treated to a sign gag:

outside of the factory is a human picket fence, comprised of familiar faces: statues of bobe cannon, norm mccabe, john carey, bob clampett himself and chuck jones surround the area. directly outside of the factory is the frozen statue of a salesman with his foot in the door--the joke is not only amusing, but the pose is quite strong and readable, too. though nowhere near the dynamism of frank tashlin’s poses in the mid ‘40s, clampett’s poses in this cartoon are quite defined and exaggerated for the time period. this is especially sharp in the scenes with the emperor.

porky knocks on the door held ajar by the ceramic statue’s foot, holding out an envelope. “telegram for the guh-geh-gee-geh-gee-gor-geh--” a hand snags the envelope out of porky’s grip, causing him to mutter “aww, nuh-neh-nee-nuh-neh-neh-nut--shucks,” a phrase he echoed in clampett’s previous entry, rover’s rival.

we transition to the inside of the factory, where we see the gorgon herself, positioned in front of a camera, awaiting to take “pictures” of her models. tedd pierce voices the gorgon, whose vocal stylings are a parody of tizzie lish, bill comstock’s character on al pearce and his gang. interestingly, the cartoon before this, the woods are full of cuckoos, featured a caricature of lish as well, also voiced by pierce. 

clampett and pierce’s comedic timing is sharp--not nearly as sharp as tashlin’s timing in the woods are full of cuckoos, but abundantly amusing nonetheless. the gorgon asks for a boy--”a sorta young-ish one”--and in comes a decrepit old man who can hardly hold himself up. the gorgon waits for the man to assume his position on the podium where his picture will be taken, singing a pitchy rendition of “am i in love?“, another homage to the characteristics displayed by lish’s character on the radio.

the gorgon snaps her photo, which turns the shaky old man into a stone statue at once, cheekily labeled “ANTIQUE --  $60,000 (P.S.: 000,000)” before he’s yanked off of the podium with a cane. 

“now let’s try a group picture.” you know it’s a ‘30s cartoon if the three stooges come waddling in--they made their caricatured, cartoon debut in the 1934 film the miller’s daughter, notorious for being chuck jones’ first animation credit. as expected, they all beat the tar out of each other while on the podium, rendered immobile only through the power of medusa’s camera. they turn into the three wise monkeys, labeled “3 MONKEYS OF JAPAN -- MADE IN GREECE���. 

norm mccabe’s animation is easy to spot in the next scene with porky, characterized by his signature double eyebrows. porky knocks on a door, parroting a favorite catchphrase from the al pearce show that frequented many a clampett cartoon: “i hope she’s eh-eh-at home, i hope, i hope, i hope, i hope, i hope...”

porky shakes the hand of the assistant, unfortunately a blackface caricature (save for the voice, who is just tedd pierce speaking in a deep, suave voice) as he greets “welcome, stranger. won’t you come in?” before porky has time to answer, he’s yanked through the iron bars of the door and placed neatly in line for the photoshoot, where he peeks through the door to see the action inside.

a pile of men form a pyramid, where the camera turns them into a literal statue of a pyramid, with some slight imperfections. “aw, shucks!” laments the gorgon. “you moved!” she approaches them with her life restoring needle, allowing the men to form into the proper position, maintaining good balance. she gets her “genuine egyptian statue”, quipping “ought to make a handy paperweight!”

the assistant informs porky that he’s next. porky backs up anxiously, echoing a short-lived catchphrase of his from the joe dougherty era: “nuh-neh-no! eh-nn-nee-no! a-a thousand times no!” the decision to make his thoughts visible (his head is slapped onto that of a piggy bank’s) is playful, and also reflects just how big of an influence comics had on bob clampett’s work: comic artists such as milt gross and george lichty have been cited by clampett as inspirations. the george lichty influence is definitely noticeable in rod scribner’s animation under bob clampett, as we’ll discover in the coming years.

in the midst of his panic, porky backs into a statue of "dick a. powello” (dick powell and apollo), causing it to break. but, rather than fuss over the mess, porky uses the opportunity to hatch an idea instead.

in comes strolling porky, concealed by powello’s upper body and a blankett hiding his hooves. the triumphant score of “he was her man” and the gorgon’s smitten woos makes the scene hilarious as is, but the blanket falling off and revealing porky’s pudgy little hooves is the icing on the comedic cake.

porky perches himself on a conveniently placed couch, where the gorgon approaches him. “pardon me, is this seat taken?” she doesn’t wait a wink before snuggling right up to him, a heart symbolizing her affections popping in the air. though clampett would play with typography at times and maintain an overarchingly jovial mood to his cartoons, it’s an odd thing to see him play with comic-like visuals in this manner, such as porky physically envisioning himself as a piggy bank or the heart from the gorgon. i wish he had done it more in this nature!

with the gorgon too close for comfort, porky uses this as an opportunity to grab the gorgon’s life-restoring needle, dangling from her neck and lying against her body. it wouldn’t be a clampett cartoon without sexual innuendos--porky reaches aimlessly around for the needle, prompting the gorgon to let out a shriek, cooing “why, mr. a POWELLo!” 

she smothers the ceramic head in kisses, giving him a nice lipstick finish to boot as she pretends the statue has given her a ring. her ecstasy is hilarious and WONDERFULLY conveyed through strong, rubbery poses worth freeze-framing. picturing porky’s befuddlement is another humor within itself. 

finally, porky’s disguise is revealed when the gorgon literally crushes the statue in an embrace, stone crumbling around him as he desperately slips out of her grip. as the gorgon makes threats to call the cops, reciting the WB favorite catchphrase of “calling all cars! calling all cars!”, porky makes with the needle and jabs it in various statues, warning them “uh-geh-uh-get goin’! i-i-eh-it’s the guh-geh-geh-eh-geh-gorgon!”

as the gorgon chases porky with her camera, he continues to revive a barrage of statues: the antique, the famed discus thrower (who throws himself out of the scene rather than the discus), the man from the end of the trail statue, who exits riding his horse like a merry go round (a nod to friz freleng’s sweet sioux), a woman who marches off with popeye’s forearms--note the bobe cannon statue in the back here--and a mermaid who unzips her fin and makes a run for it. the highlight of the entire montage is when porky approaches two temples (the two of them together labeled “shirley temple”) and injects the needle into them, prompting the temples to use their pillars as legs and run for the hills.

the chase reaches its climax as the gorgon pursues porky with a movie camera, turning the crank ferociously as she runs. her plan works--porky slows down, freezing in mid-air as the gorgon cries “hold it!” thus, the gorgon pins porky to the ground, who tries his hardest to fight back, but ultimately flailing around as she commands him to open his eyes.  

we melt into the present, where we find porky’s mother in place of the gorgon, telling him softly to wake up. he does so, after she pries one of his eyes opens. relieved that it was all a dream, he embraces his mother, prompting a happy end and an iris out.

this cartoon has a soft spot in my heart--it was one of the first LT cartoons i saw on this whole venture. i thought i was the smartest person alive, understanding the three stooges, popeye, and shirley temple references. who knew just how much i had (and still have!) to learn! though even without my sentimental biases, this still stands as a very good cartoon.

as i mentioned previously, the poses in this are full of elasticity and energy, especially in the emperor and the gorgon. porky does a very nice job as well--little pieces of animation such as him fidgeting awkwardly while the emperor rambles on, swinging from side to side as he’s offered the job to be a hero, etc. etc. are full of charm and character. while his personality isn’t the most electric in comparison to characters like bugs and daffy, it’s the little things like these that really make porky stand out. with him, a little subtlety goes a long way, and that’s why he’s one of my favorites. he’s so reserved in comparison to such a wild cast of characters that his timidness actually shines through and sets him apart! (though, on the other hand, he can still have quite the personality, as we’ll discover!)

personally, the only gripes i have with this cartoon is the blackface caricatured assistant (which, in comparison to some cartoons we’ve seen and still have yet to see, is relatively mild, but uncomfortable nonetheless). the jokes, while corny at times, still hit, the animation is full of life and vigor, and the short as a whole has a lot of charm, whimsy, and personality. it has my seal of approval! go check it out!

link!

[dustedmagazine]

Catherine Lamb — Muto Infinitas (Another Timbre)

Muto Infinitas by Catherine Lamb

In her talk at the 2013 Harvard Initiative for Learning and Teaching conference, art historian Jennifer Roberts describes the unusual task she puts to her students as they embark on their research projects: visit the artwork in question and spend no less than three hours looking at it. It’s an exercise situated at the intersection of patience and perception, designed to provide students “the permission and the structures to slow down” and help teach them what Roberts calls the “deliberate engagement of delay.” Through it, doubts like “How can there possibly be three hours��� worth of incident and information on this small surface?” are gradually displaced by an astonishing proliferation of observations, questions, and analyses as time exerts its force. 

It’s the kind of practice that might appeal to a composer like Catherine Lamb, whose long, subtle works reward persistent listeners with an unexpectedly rich (psycho)acoustic experience. In fact, Lamb describes the transformative effects of her own engagement with Agnes Martin’s multi-panel painting The Islands: “At first my eyes are overwhelmed by the luminosity of white. Over time, I begin to see whole spectrums of color emerging to the surface, which may later become variations of grey.” Next to the “incident and information” contained in Roberts’s example, John Singleton Copley’s A Boy with a Flying Squirrel, the relative “blandness” of Martin’s or Lamb’s aesthetic only stresses the role the audience must play in any encounter with their work. For Lamb, intentional blandness may represent a resistance to the notion that “a piece of music must ‘take one somewhere’ or overwhelm the senses to be felt, rather than the listener having any responsibility towards it.”

What is the nature of the responsibility the listener owes to this music? Patience should not imply passivity. In “The Form of the Spiral,” her own Harvard lecture, Lamb draws on Maryanne Amacher’s suggestion that “the active listener is the experimenter.” A key component of this active, experimental posture is the rejection of “habitual musical thinking and terminologies.” These frameworks aren’t just limited or inadequate; proceeding by habit, we unwittingly choose received conceptions over true attention. In a sense, then, engaging with Lamb’s music by turning to well-worn labels like “microtonal,” “drone” or even “just intonation” and “timbre” is like going to a museum to skim wall copy. Doing justice to the music requires something more, something as sui generis as the piece itself. “I don’t believe in virtuosity,” Lamb tells one interviewer. “I believe in working over a long period of time, consistently and with love and attention.” 

If Lamb is describing a kind of generous, sympathetic patience, these passing references to belief hint that she’s also describing something like faith: trust that earnest application will lead one safely into, if not through, doubt. With its title’s suggestion of things forever out of reach, Lamb’s latest from Another Timbre is a fitting venue for all these ideas. Muto Infinitas is also music of considerable ambiguity, at least on first approach. Just 20 seconds into the hour-long composition, the performers — Rebecca Lane (quartertone bass flute) and Jon Heilbron (double bass) — fall silent. After 10 seconds of silence, they resume their sustained breathing and bowing, only to pause again not quite two minutes later. The music proceeds in this fashion, its “global” structure troubling the distinctions between continuity and discontinuity, repetition and progress, event and nonevent. Similar puzzles play out on the “local” level as well, with each of the piece’s 30+ episodes inviting the listener to ponder the complex harmonies, tensions and acoustic phenomena occasioned by the instruments’ interactions — a true test of language (especially for those of us taking notes) as we search for words that can keep up with the minute distinctions and developments introduced after each silence. “Microtonal” won’t get us very far. Close attention only heightens the effect of the surprise that arrives in the piece’s final passages, as Lane’s breath lengths contract and a simple but affecting melody slowly emerges from harmony. Without committing to a conventional narrative structure, Lamb manages, in a sense, to dramatize Roberts’s “deliberate engagement of delay” and the process of discovery that grows out of it. 

Ultimately, of course, that process — and the responsibility that underpins it — extends in varying proportions not only to the listener but also to the performers and the composer herself. “I have been slowly working on Muto Infinitas for 5 years,” Lane writes, characterizing the present recording less as an absolute statement than as a document charting one point in an even longer, perhaps infinite, effort of exploration and refinement: “So the piece is a framework into which Jon and I hope to go deeper and deeper. We look forward to performing it again and again and seeing how our interpretation and listening evolve further.”

Perhaps paradoxically, it may be Lamb’s role in this network of shared responsibility that is most opaque. Commenting on an earlier work, her words apply well here: “Fluctuations of bow or breath or tone may become little bits of expression, and I find those portions the most compelling,” she says of 2012’s three bodies (moving), also on Another Timbre. “This is humbling, because I really have nothing to do with them other than allowing them to occur.” In the case of Muto Infinitas, it may be tempting to trace that guiding hand in the definitive, if elusive, melodic turn in the composition’s final moments. It’s there, of course, in the fertile interaction of tone carried out by the flute and bass as well. But it may actually be the piece’s periodic silences that best mark the composer’s presence. Modest but firm, they open a space for recovery and refocusing, always bringing the music back to the place of richest possibility. 

Eric McDowell 

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 21

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 21: The moment Kate has been dreading for years. 

           Kate wasn’t sure if she could move at all. But she didn’t even want to see the man in front of her. Everything about him sickened her. He had deep brown eyes but there was hardly any emotion in them other than smug self-assuredness. His dark hair wasn’t slicked back as it usually was. In fact, he wasn’t wearing the same airs he usually did. Not the expensive clothes, polished shoes, gold watch. It indicated to her that he hadn’t been conducting business, but traveling. Traveling from London to Birmingham to catch her off guard.

He stepped toward her with a smile. “No words for me? None at all?”

“I have a gun on me.” She spat out, trying her best to sound fearless. There were so many men who she could dismiss, men she would never be afraid of, men she could take over in minutes. But Santo was different. He knew things about her. He could control her if he wanted to.

“You’re not gonna kill me, you’re smarter than that.”

“Yeah? Seems like a smart idea to me.” She lowered her hand to the edge of her jacket, prepared to reach to her holster tucked beneath.

“Because you know the repercussions already.” He stuck a hand in his pocket, making Kate flinch. “S’alright.” He held one hand up like he was soothing a spooked horse. “Here.” He pulled something out and reached his enclosed fist out to her.

Kate remained on her front steps, watching him warily. “What is it?”

“What, you think I’ve got a live snake in here or somethin’? A spider?” He chuckled. “C’mon.”

She glared at him but stepped down to hold out her palm. Santo gently dropped something gold into it. Still cautious but curious, she examined the piece of jewelry. Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized. The oval-shaped locket wasn’t anything expensive. It was badly tarnished from decades of being worn for so many years. It was the same locket her father had given her mother when they were just lovesick teenagers. It was the locket that her mother had gifted to her when she became of age. It was the locket she had lost when she fled America.

“Where did you find this?” She whispered.

“In Boston, you dropped it on the street before you disappeared.” He answered.

Her expression hardened. “When you set my building on fire.”

He nodded slightly. “I can admit my methods were harsh back then.”

Kate’s fingers curled around the necklace, not willing to let it go again. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Now, how would you know that? You’ve been running around Europe while I’ve been trying to find you. You don’t know how I’ve changed.” He took another step toward her, almost testing the waters to see how far he could get before she threatened to shoot him again.

She tensed up but didn’t move away. “Was anyone killed?” She asked the question that had been haunting her for years. The screams coming from the burning apartment building still kept her up at night. She never knew if her neighbors were saved or perished. She had no idea the destruction Santo had caused. And yet while he lit the fire, she felt responsible for giving him reason to.

“Come now, Katie, that’s not what I’m here to talk about.” He said in an almost unrecognizably gentle voice.

“I know why you’re here. You’re not going to get what you want.” Kate crossed her arms over her chest, holding her mother’s necklace close to her.

“Could we talk inside?” He gestured to the door.

“You won’t be able to kill me in there and get away with it.” She asserted.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t want you dead, micina. C’mon, let’s talk inside.” He passed by her and went up the steps.

It was against her better judgment to let him in. The man she’d been hiding from. But she knew she wasn’t going to get rid of him easily. She wondered if she cooperated even just a little, he might be more lenient. Besides, she was self-assured that if he did try to harm her, she could fend him off.

So, with a deep breath, she went back to the door and unlocked it. She let Santo inside. He acted as if it were an old friend’s home, taking off his hat and coat and hanging them on the wooden pegs by the door.

Feeling awkward and on edge, Kate led him into the kitchen. She sat down and pulled out a cigarette to calm her nerves.

Santo slowly walked behind her, taking in the surroundings as if each piece of her personal belongings were artifacts in a museum. “I didn’t think I’d find you in a place like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked defensively.

He chuckled and finally found a spot to sit at the table. “I mean, I remember the way you used to live in Boston and Chicago. I mean you used to stay at the Palmer House and the Omni. You knew people, I mean for fuck’s sake Crowninshield wanted to put you on the cover of Vanity Fair.”

Kate averted her eyes. They were memories she had chosen to set aside. The lavish lifestyle she once had. Things people in Birmingham didn’t know about. The circles she ran in afforded her things that perhaps someone like her didn’t deserve. Things she ate up because she was just a young woman who wanted the world. It all seemed well and good until she attracted the interest of very dangerous men. One of whom was sitting in her kitchen.

“I was different then.”

“Hm.”

Kate loosened the grip she had on her locket. Instead, setting it on top of the table in a neat pile. “Just tell me what you want, Santo.”

“It’s not really about what I want, micina. It’s about what you want.” He proposed. “Is this really where you want to be? Stuck in this filthy city? You want to be locked up for something someone else did? You’re so much better than that.” He urged.

“You don’t know anything about this place.” She muttered. He made it seem like she was locked up in hell.

“But I know the people you’ve been running with.” His eyes darkened with disapproval. “Thomas Shelby. Him and his brothers don’t know their fucking place. I heard what they did to Kimber. I know what they’ve done. Now you’re suddenly a favorite of his? Where do you think that’s going to lead, Kate?” He questioned.

“Fuck off.”

“And even in London, you managed to find the lowest of the low. Alfie Solomons.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” She warned, not about to allow him to talk shit about a man who actually respected her for the person she was.

Santo took the hint and backed off a bit. “I’m just saying, there’s so much more you were meant for. When was the last time you danced? Do you still have your shoes?”

She did. The ballet pointe shoes that she adored so much. They were perfectly broken in and allowed her to lift up inches beyond how tall she usually stood. She felt like a different person when she laced them up. Someone more elegant and refined. That’s why she didn’t take them out of the box that was carefully tucked under her bed. They would remain there until she was free. Free to finally dance on stage again with a production. Free to have enough space to practice her leaps and spins.

“Kate, that’s all you ever wanted. To be a dancer no one could take their eyes off of. You didn’t want all this mess. Not here or in America. I can give you more. I can give you what you want. Any company will take you on. You’ll be the lead in every production.” He enticed her with bedazzling dreams of some utopia back in America. “You won’t have to worry about money or anything. I’ll take care of you until the day I die.”

She was absolutely sick to her stomach. Everything Santo was promising her was so alluring. To finally be free of the burden she’d been carrying for so long. To finally dance again. To put her murky past behind her and just shine. But then she looked into his eyes. There was still nothing there. No emotion, no adoration, no concern. He didn’t hold the same feeling that Tommy. She could recall seeing an array of strong expression in those blue eyes. But Santo never showed her anything. Nothing. Not the respect that people in Birmingham and London did. He never laughed with her like she laughed with John and Arthur or Alfie. Never confided with her like she did with Ada or Lizzie or Polly. He never held her heart in his hand like Tommy did.

“I don’t want that.” She replied. “I may have at one point, but I don’t anymore.”

A flash of anger passed across his face but he seemed to try and suppress it. “So, I can’t convince you with anything? Designer clothes, five-story town-house on Beacon Hill, cars? Nothing?”

She shook her head. “No.” She knew what she wanted. She wanted Tommy. She wanted the Shelby family. She wanted the relationships she had cultivated over the last couple of years.

“Well.” He cleared his throat and stood. “I suppose I can’t force you into anything.”

It was surprising to Kate that he was ceding so quickly or easily. “Um…okay.”

He pointed to the locket. “May I?”

Wary, she nodded and stood up. Santo picked up the locket as she brushed her hair away from her neck. He placed it around her neck and fixed the clasp.

When she expected him to step away, instead he grabbed her by the neck. His fingers dug into her throat, threatening to completely cut off her air supply. She reacted quickly out of shock, scratching at his hands to get him off her.

But he only tightened his grip and leaned in close to her ear. “You’ll come back to America with me, whether you like it or not.” He hissed. “I’d give you the fucking world and you turn me down? Not happening.”

“You can kill me.” She rasped, still clawing at his skin and trying to elbow his torso. “I don’t give a fuck.”

He let out a low chuckle. “I know you don’t. That’s why I won’t kill you. If I had wanted you dead, you never would have made it out of Boston alive. No, no, I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to kill those fucking gypsies that you seem to like so much. I’ll kill that fucking Jew if I have to. I’ll make you watch as I burn down this disgusting city. I’ll make you watch as I slit their throats.”

Tears began to slip down Kate’s cheeks. She had been so naïve to think Santo would let her off the hook. This was much more like the man she once knew. Violent and psychotic. “Please.”

“Please? Please what? You want me to spare their lives?” He asked in a simpering tone. “Do they really mean that much to you? Huh?”

Kate felt so weak crying in front of him. She always expected that if he returned, she would either kill him or at least fight tooth and nail. But there she was, crying and helpless against him. She couldn’t kill him. Not when the Changrettas were already breathing down Tommy’s neck. Not when he had so many other allies who would be willing to cross the Pond to teach him a lesson. She couldn’t bring harm to the Shelbys. “I’ll do anything. Just leave them.” She gasped for breath.

“Oh, micina, I thought you learned not to catch feelings for others. They can always be used as your weakness.” He tsked sarcastically. “Very well. If you go willingly, I’ll leave them all be.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek making her stomach flip with disgust. After a few more moments, he let go of her neck and stepped away from her.

Kate felt her knees buckle as she rubbed her throat and took a few shaky breaths.

“I’ll get tickets to the next ship. Should be less than a week.” He straightened up and acted like everything was all well and fine. I would keep you company for the night but I don’t want to spend another second in this dumpster.” He sniffed. “And you’re smart enough to know that if you run, I’ll keep my promise. Every single one of them will die and it’ll all be your fault.”

She nodded. “Okay.” Her voice was weak and didn’t even sound like her own. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Santo smiled, victorious. He had finally won. “Good, sleep well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate didn’t spare any time. She went right to the phone once Santo left. Her calls to the office, the betting shop, and Arrow House all went unanswered. No one seemed to be around or willing to pick up the phone. She stayed up all night trying to call everyone but didn’t get a response.

Finally, the next morning, she got through to Polly.

“Is Tommy still in Warwickshire?”

“Kate?”

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, we were supposed to meet with him today. He didn’t say to bring you…”

“I need to speak with him.”

There was a soft sigh over the phone line but Polly didn’t seem to have the energy to argue. “Alright, I’ll come by to pick you up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to Tommy’s study was locked when Kate tried to barge in. Ada looked alarmed that she had shown up.

“He didn’t need to talk to you today.” The Shelby sister tried to intervene.

“Well, I need to talk to him.” She insisted and banged on the door. “Tommy, open up!”

Polly rand Ada exchanged looks but neither of them knew what was going on. Kate hadn’t disclosed anything to Polly on the drive over.

Finally, the knocking on the door got Tommy to open it. He was stone-faced and didn’t say a word. Instead, he moved right past her.

“Tommy, I need to talk to you there’s something going on and it’s-”

He just kept walking, right out of the room and out of the house entirely.

Close to tears, Kate followed. “Tommy!”

His footsteps crunched across the gravel as he made his way toward the stables.

She finally broke down in tears. Everything was too much to handle and she couldn’t hold her composure for another second. “Tommy, please!” She sobbed.

The agony in her voice made him finally stop and turn around. There was clear pain written across his face. Their last interaction obviously had put them both in drastic moods.

“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” She choked out.

He wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Whether it was about walking out on him when he expressed his love for her, or not. But he didn’t have the strength to turn away from her. “Sorry for what?” He walked back toward her.

Too overwhelmed, she just let out another sob and shook her head.

“Kate…” That’s when he noticed the fingerprint-shaped bruises around her neck. “Who did this to you?”

She could hardly breathe right, she was all out of sorts. “Santo. Santo did it.”

//If you’re looking for more Tommy fics, I just started a new one call Field of Poppies that details Tommy’s life before and going into ww1. Check it out!

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen

Masterpost

Masterlist

[simikaurblog]

Brief history of typography

Typography has been around for a long time and plays the key role in communicating to consumers. There are four main typefaces - serif, sans serif, script and decorative. It is vital to pick the the right typeface as it can communicate everything from tradition, elegance to playfulness.

I wanted to look back at the evolution of type and how it started from the ancient cave paintings that date back to 20,000 B.C. They are the very first recorded written communication. Formal writing was developed by the Sumerians at around 3,500 B.C. As each civilisation advanced their need for communication became more complex.

The Egyptian incorporated symbols and ideograms into their art, architecture and writings.

The Ancient Greeks who used the alphabet created by Phoenicians taken over by Romans afterwards.

Phoenicians developed phonograms, symbols and the first alphabet.

The Romans, refined the art of handwriting, different styles of lettering, and  introduced different scripts.

Johannes Gutenberg created the printing press of moveable type in the 15th century. This was a turning point for the modern world as it meant that books could be published and distributed on a large-scale. For the world this meant that education could be spread, the news could be created and read, as well as advertisements using the initial serif and sans serif typefaces.

Many of the typefaces known today were created by a number of people.

Helvetica was created by Max Miedinger in 1954.

Baskerville was created by John Baskerville.

Roman Type was created by Nicolas Jenson.

William Caslon created a typeface which has a straighter serifs and more obvious contrasts between thin and bold strokes. We call this type style ‘old style’. 

Letterforms as identity

Signs, posters, newspapers, periodicals and advertisements, typefaces became larger and catchier, with bolder lettering and shading.

1700 - newspaper, newsletter, hand-set, niche 

Single sheets of newspaper - they have a similar structure of headings.

1835 - The modern newspaper is made (early days)

Broad sheets were produced that were filled with columns of text. The papers changed slightly over time.

There wasn’t many tools available for graphic expression, so they took the rulers of the newspaper and changed this.

Slowly advertising started to appear on the newspaper.

1885 - Hand-set to linotype

Linotype helped the production of newspapers by becoming one of the mainstay methods to set type.

1900 - The visual high road

The first page photo was in 1910.

1912 - first sign of large banner heads. The use of larger typography makes it easier to read and stands out when reading about major news events happening at that time.

People were now becoming more aware of the style of typography and typefaces.

There were booklets like this full of information where the workers at the newspaper company would come and pick what they wanted.

1960s 

During this time things were getting advanced but also it would slow down. The 60s were a great time for design and this impacted on newspaper production.

Al Seckel was hired by the company and made these changes.

The designers states in his book that he had a hard time getting this design approved.

Robert Frank is an Swiss-American photographer and documentary filmmaker who worked for the company. I really think that this design is refreshing and beautiful to look at and look modern even though they were produced in the late 1900s.

Sketching is an important process and helps you to layout your ideas and test them. This is a process in which I will be doing a lot during my time at University.

1980s - Colour

The first colour newspaper produced in 1983

These were made by Tom Bodkin who took this to meeting to show people that they needed to include more colour in the newspapers.

1994 - The web

1994 - Janet Froelich redesigning the magazine

I have a project coming up where I will be creating my own magazine. Looking at this layout i can see what makes it successful. This includes the rule of thirds, layout, proximity, line, columns etc. I will keep this in mind when it comes to the project.

2000s - Refinements and innovation

The attack on 9/11 - Tom Bodkin decided to produce pages and pages of news and images that kept up to date of the events that were happening.

This research has helped me to understand how typography became to be in today’s society. I found it so fascinating to see the change and how long it took. I can really appreciate the beauty in each time period. The New York Times Newspaper has changed by including leading, kerning, rulers, colour, images, logo, titles, subheadings and so much more however, they have always kept to their brand identity and the layout of the newspaper.

[omniversalobservations]

Near Myths No. 1 (September 1978)

Luther Arkwright is a work of apocalyptic science fiction set in parallel universes. The eponymous hero has the unique talent of being able to move between parallels purely by force of will, and is aided by Rose Wylde, a telepath whose many incarnations across the parallels are able to communicate with one another. Luther and Rose are agents of a parallel known as "zero-zero", whose stable position in the multiverse has allowed the development of a world at peace with itself and sufficiently high technology to monitor the parallels for signs of the malign influence of the "Disruptors".

Most of the action in the story is set in a parallel world where the English Civil War has been indefinitely prolonged by the actions of the Disruptors, who are also responsible for unleashing "Firefrost", a legendary artifact which is destabilising the multiverse. Arkwright intervenes on the Royalist side in order to draw out the Disruptors and locate and destroy Firefrost. Along the way his unit is ambushed, and he is killed, only to return to life with his powers enhanced.

The storytelling of the early episodes is complex, with flashbacks to Arkwright's upbringing by the Disruptors, escape to the parallel of his birth and early missions for zero-zero intermingling with the course of his mission in neo-Cromwellian England, with story-telling techniques and art styles shifting to match. The scenes of Arkwright's death and rebirth are particularly abstract and full of religious and mythological symbolism. The comic is unusual in being one of the few adventure stories where the readers and the protagonist both know from the beginning that he's going to die, only the event itself is not known.

The later parts of the story have a more straightforward, linear form. At the end Arkwright, having completed his mission, renounces violence.

Source: Wikipedia

"There is not one infinite universe, instead there are an infinite number of universes: a multiverse."

Those were Karl Marx's first words to the Scientific Assembly of Munich in 1882. I've read that the media described the implications as "far-reaching."

My great-grandfather told me that some people panicked, thinking that we were about to be invaded at any moment. Our entire world was stunned. I don't think that many people had more than a shaky idea of what Marx meant by "probability valency," "shell perception" and all the rest. There was a lot of speculation and debate.

I remember my grandmother insisting that it was all a hoax, as late as 1964, especially after what Orson Welles did.

Mind you, for most people doubt ended in 1886, when Crookes proved Marx's theoretical model to be an actual physical reality. By the end of 1888, at the World Fair in Paris, we had had to accept that our's was but one of an infinity of Earths.

Yet what did they hold? What were they like? Were there Earths where dinosaurs still lived? Where the Holy Roman Empire still held sway? Others where life, as we knew it, had never evolved? The truth of it, when we were at last able to perceive it, was beyond our wildest imaginings and our darkest nightmares.

Recorded text of EL communication - CAT4.63256/6. Location , ELA Rm 15. Date, 24-09-71. Subject Mary Astor. A/Para 09-01-67. Notes: Instruction to Alternative Self recently contacted, Para as above. Standard Pattern Briefing. C/P 659023a. Non-crisis. Strength and Imaging 96%.

The myriad parallel Earths are separated from each other not by space or time, but by a dimension the Karl Marx of ZeroZero termed "probability valency." These Earths are all the echoes of the same basic blueprint. Each co-exists in time. Most co-exist in space; some occupy slightly different orbits, or are at a different point in their orbit. The latter two classes of parallels are extremely rare. Most Earths share identical astronomical features: Core Position as it is termed on ZeroZero.

Each Earth is dif ferent in some fashion from the others. There are a few that have never known Humankind, and on these Earths there has never evolved any life form of comparable intelligence to Humanity. Across the parallels inhabited by Humankind there are many variations of history. A surprising number share the Eastern or Euro Asian continent as the cradle of whatever civilisation they have. Beyond this the variation in culture, language, social development and human psychology is too slight, within the massive breadth of probabilities, to be entirely coincidental.

The Earth known as Zero-Zero developed along one of the five standard historical templates. Rising to a Middle Ages which saw the rapid growth of the Holy Roman Empire, the Germanic states were strongly united in an unusually coherent and effective alliance. Their rulers, and later the World Emperors, maintained a continuity of lineage and policy for nearly five centuries.

Dominated by this Empire neither England, Spain or France developed,into major powers. The Ottoman Empire briefly opposed the Holy Roman Empire; the resulting Thirty Years War served only to sharpen the technological revolution begun by Gutenberg and the mediaeval alchemists. Through a lengthy process of war and diplomacy the Empire rose to world domination. By the end of the seventeenth century the "Boy Emperor," Frederick X, the puppet of a decadent and glittering court, held sway over the entire globe.

There had, during the Empire's long climb to misrule, been another power rising. Science had been slowly assimilated, over the previous two centuries, as the religion of the masses. The Futurist Renaissance with its new ideals, its reappraisal of the world in the light of scientific thought, and its contempt for the old doctrine and dogma (in which the rule of the Emperor was enshrined) was the movement of the people, and, more importantly, that of the military.

The world-wide military coup, the execution of Frederick and his court, followed by a dictatorship based on the principles of the Advancement of Science, was inevitable, merciless and brief.

"I am the Son of Scientific Thought," declared the first World-Consul, Napoleon Bonaparte, when the world was finally brought under the Futurists rule in 1802.

The science of this Earth grew by leaps and bounds, unfettered by the socio-religious prejudice usual on other parallels.

By 1800 John Dalton had perfected his Theory of Relativity. In 1816 Franz Joseph Gall proves to the scientific establishment th existence of psionics. In 1820 a man and woman set foot upon the Moon. In 1832 Charles Babbage completed BINAC, the first electronic stored-programme computer. During the early 1850's world poverty and famine were eradicated.

And, working quietly in London, the mathematical genius Karl Marx was progressing towards a discovery which would change his world.

He was constructing a mathematical model of the universe, then of the multiverse his equations predicted. In 1881 he had his proof; that beyond the common and familiar Earth there were others, set in other solar systems, set in other galaxies, set in other universes. As he refined his theories Marx designed the annotation system still used by ZeroZero to designate the different continua.His own Earth was taken as a norm, thus 00-00-00 for Zero-Zero; so 00-01-00 and 00-00-01 would be flanking parallels, one unit of "probability vatency" removed, and so forth.

Marx announced his discovery to an Earth much changed from the Iron Rule of Science. Over the last century, the dictatorship had mellowed into benevolent rule. In 1900, the dictatorship and the powers of the World Consul were dissolved by the Athens Accord. A self - regulating World Government was established. Zero-Zero had become the first technologically advanced parallel to live in harmony with itself, freed from cultural and religious dogma.

One of the first acts of the new administration was to initiate the Valhalla Programme. Created to monitor parallel worlds and observe the predicted fluctuation of historical trends. London was chosen to be the site of the giant Valhalla Nova complex, built to house the most advanced technology of the time and the specialists the project required.

The massive hyper-computer W.O.T.A.N. was conceived as an integral part of the structure and project. W.O.T.A.N. was designed to scan the continua, to correlate, analyse and display information on the status of the myriad parallel worlds.

That ZeroZero had the technology to do this was unsurprising The means of reaching other parallels lay in the careful nurturing of psychic and paranormal research. Parapsychology had been recognised and developed as a true science on ZeroZero since the1830's.

By the early 1900's on Zero-Zero the ability of certain human minds to hook into and use psionic energy was a well established fact. Furthermore, methods of developing and enhancing psi-abilities had been carefully nurtured.

One of the most astonishing finds was that of the Empathic Link. Psychics with this talent could, through various techniques, monitor and on rare occasions communicate with their alternative selves on other parallels. Some psychics could use psychometric techniques to scan other parallels; techniques which were at first augmented by W.O.T.A.N. and then duplicated by the hyper-computer.

During the long, hot summer of 1905 the Valhalla Nova complex became fully operational. The parallels surrounding Zero-zero were scanned; the information received was split into basic social and cultural indices. These were then compared to the theoretical indices generated by W.O.T.A.N. and Marx's careful predictions.

The results were nowhere near what had been expected.

THE DISRUPTORS DISCOVERED

Previous speculation had concluded that the variation across Human-inhabited parallels would be enormous. Each parallel was expected to have generated its own individual psychology, language groups, histories and societies.

Instead, W.O.T.A.N. demonstrated that the socio-historical variation fell within 30%, on the Marx-Oppenheimer Index, of Zero-Zero's history across a set of one thousand "neighbouring" parallels.

This was, of course, improbable in the extreme. For example, the odds against the adoption of the Gregorian calendar, across a significant number of the sample parallels, was calculated at approximately 735,000 to I against. Yet only five parallels, were not using the Gregorian calendar; by whatever name it was known.

There had to be an outside force acting on the parallels. W.O.T.A.N. named the effect of this force Disruption, and before long had proved to it's satisfaction the existence of the Disruptors.

Initially it seemed that every parallel exhibited some shade of Disruptor activity: even Zero-Zero. The considerable panic this caused was used to justify the expansion and increased budget of the Valhalla Nova programme.

Fortunately the continued research demonstrated that this shadow of Disruptor activity was exactly that. It was discovered that there were parallels which occupied probability foci (also termed psi-matrix nodes) and that any disturbance on these focal Earths was echoed by similar disturbances on the shadowed parallels.

Two things were swiftly demonstrated by this new intelligence. Firstly, that Disruptor activity had been and was being co-ordinated across these focal parallels. Secondly, that ZeroZero occupied a strangely stable and independent position in the Multiverse.

The first period of research into other parallels (1905-1928) ended when the Psi-section was brought fully onto stream with the rest of Valhalla Nova. The next few years saw the difficult work of setting up "field operations" on those parallels that could be reached via the empathic link or other psionic means. By 1930 Valhalla Nova had four hundred and sixty-two Psychics gifted with the empathic link, each in contact with between three to twenty alternative selves. The dif ficult work of achieving full communication, then persuading what was often a very frightened individual to co-operate, could take years.

The first active "field agent" was Margaret Bondfield of 28-00-35, a citizen of the French Imperial Estates-General, recruited in1924. Other Margaret Bondfields followed on other parallels until, by 1930, there were fourteen active Bondfields; two of whom hadsucceeded to government, in a ministerial or consular capacity, on their respective (British Empire and Roman Republic dominated) parallels.

By this time a considerable body of information on Disruptor activity had been assimilated. ZeroZero now had numerous in-sights into the respective histories, modes, and means of Disruptor campaigns across a huge number of parallels.

Unfortunately, a goodly amount of this information was highly speculative; furthermore the patterns of Disruptor activity often seemed contradictory. Analysis of the few thousand parallels available to ZeroZero through the empathic link showed numerous patterns of common historical perception. Whereas psychometric scans of certain parallels revealed that their history, usually up to the sixth through to the eighth centuries, had been manifestly different. It gradually emerged that the Disruptors had rewritten, or grafted on, the perceived history of these parallels at least twice in the history of the multiverse.

The first and greatest remoulding of the perception of the past had taken place between 550 to 700AD. The second was during the years 1500 to 1800AD. Three centuries which saw a rapid turn around from the period of the witch-hunting craze (common to most parallels) to times of scientific discovery and enlightenment on some Earths, but of philosophical and scientific repression on others.

Whatever they were doing, for whatever reasons, it was certain that the Disruptors had engineered wars, coups d'etat, plagues, peace treaties, scientific discoveries, industrial and philosophical revolutions, assassinations, autocracies, alliances, reformation, decline and renaissance for over a thousand years.

Some theorists argued that their influence could stretch all the way back to the beginning of human society. The majority opinion, however, settled on the fourth and fifth centuries as those in which the Disruptors had become established.

THE VALHALLA RESPONSE

The theorists on ZeroZero could explain possible Disruptor motivations for several, linked, activities. However, no theory could consistently explain all Disruptor activities,

Until the mid 1940's the most popular hypothesis insisted that there were actually numerous, conflicting Disruptor organisations. A great many lives were lost in a number of abortive attempts to recruit, or liaise with, what Zero-Zero perceived to be, ethically sound Disruptor enclaves.

By the start of the 1960's Zero-Zero had, at last, reconciled itself to standing alone against the Disruptors.

The working hypothesis altered to accept that the Disruptors were co-operating in the manipulation of hundreds of thousands of parallels. The World Government of ZeroZero accepted that, whatever the nature of this manipulation, it must be countered where possible.

The main directive issued in1921 by the World Government ordered that the counter-Disruptor activities performed by ZeroZero must act to enhance the freedom and preserve the well-being of the afflicted Earth. The aim of any Valhalla Nova activity, therefore, was to remove the Disruptor influence, whilst leaving the Earth in question unaware of both ZeroZero and the Disruptors.

The question of secrecy, and of fighting the Disruptorr, in secret, first became an issue on Para 34-09-09, in 1920.

Due to W.O.T.A.N.'s interference (using Valhalla Nova's most powerful telepaths) the WorldWar I of this parallel had continued for far longer than the Disruptors desired.

ZeroZero further manipulated the Disruptors into increasing the power of the Anglo-French American colonial states, in an effort to hasten the end of the war. In the final days of the war the Americas declared their independence, and ZeroZero took the previously untried action of informing this Earth of the existence of the parallel Earths, of themselves and the Disruptors.

Within hours the fledgling American Federation was destroyed by nuclear attack. Devastated by weapons launched on a different parallel which emerged at ground-zero on 34-09-09.

Elsewhere around the parallel there were other, selective strikes, attacks by strike forces of Rooks and the outbreak of engineered plagues.

Within a decade the world was reduced to a primitive technology, with the remaining population harshly moulded into a loose tribal structure.

On ZeroZero the lesson had been learnt. It might be that para 34-09-09 was one which the Disruptors could afford to lose, but ZeroZero could not, in all conscience, take such a risk again.

The War would go on, but it would be a shadow war, fought by shadow warriors. A war in which the victories and defeats would, all to often, seem meaningless, far too subtle or small to matter. And always there is the Question: Who are the Disruptors, and what, ultimately, do they want?

THE DISRUPTOR INTELLIGENCE

The following is what Valhalla Nova knows of the standard patterns of Disruptor activity across the parallels. Most of the information concerns the methods and organisation of known Disruptor agents. This material forms the basis for the Valhalla Nova briefing of new ZeroZero agents.

W.O.T.A.N. soon realised that most of the Disruption was conducted by agents indigenous to the parallel being disrupted. The most powerful of these agents usually occupied positions of power on the parallel, as either heads of state or religion, or as powers behind the throne. These key agents received their instructions from (W.O.T.A.N. assumed) a central Disruptor control, probably based on a single parallel. These instructions were passed through either the empathic link, or, increasingly since the end of the end of the nineteenth century, by sophisticated Trans-Parallel Communicators (TPCs).

Somewhat to Valhalla Nova's surprise, it was discovered that most of the Disruptor agents were dupes. Disruptor control would deliberately manipulate its agents perceptions and knowledge. Many key Disruptor agents would not even know of the existence of parallel Earths. Moreover, Disruptor control represented itself in many different ways across numerous parallels. The Disruptors' influence over these key agents, called Bishops by ZeroZero, could often be traced back over several centuries.

A technique of Disruptor first contact emerged. The Disruptors would usually begin by representing themselves as a powerful, though secret, organisation, sympathetic to their chosen agent's cause, conviction or ambition.

The newly recruited Bishop would then be aided in the establishment of an expanded power base; the Disruptor Lodge. Where possible existing social groups were used as fronts whether political, religious, corporate or criminal. It is not unusual for the Disruptors to infiltrate and take over existing secret societies. (A fact that can cause considerable confusion to ZeroZero agents, as they attempt to establish which secret society, one of several native ones, is the actual Disruptor Lodge.)

The Disruptor Bishop's first priority is to recruit further prime agents. These are organised into an Inner Council, who are the only native Disruptor agents to know of the existence of the Disruptor control.

Immediately below that an Elite is formed, these agents believe that the Bishop And the Inner Council are the masters of the Lodge.

Finally, the Elite recruits and controls the rank and file, the Pawns, of the Lodge. These ordinary members make up the largest proportion of any Lodge, although their knowledge about the Lodge, its purposes and organisation, can vary wildly from parallel to parallel and even within the Lodge itself.

The establishment of a Lodge usually takes a generation. During which time the Inner Council's loyalty to and dependence on the Disruptors will have been firmly established. Once the Disruptor control is certain they begin to use their puppets for their own inscrutable aims. By this time the Bishop, or their heir, normally accepts these plans as perfectly desirable or justifiable.

The inducements offered by the Disruptors are considerable. Their strongest card remains that of knowledge. Thousands of parallels have fallen to Disruptor Lodges using sophisticated weapons and tactics beyond the norm of that Earth.

Brutal and direct support has occasionally been provided by the Rooks. These are cybernetically enhanced humans, far stronger than a normal person, with an arsenal of highly advanced weaponry at their disposal.

At first ZeroZero thought that the Rooks were entirely robotic, but a ZeroZero agent managed to disable and briefly examine one, discovering them to be about 70% human/organic and 30% machine. For some reason the Disruptors have been extremely reluctant to use the Rooks since the nineteenth century on most parallels. Far more subtle and dangerous are the Disruptor Knights. These human agents are invariably psychic and able to travel between parallels, as do the Rooks, by using Trans-Parallel Vehicles (TPVs). The Knights function as in situ advisors to the Bishops. On rare occasions they may command a Lodge on a parallel considered critical to the Disruptors.

To date ZeroZero agents have yet to capture a Disruptor Knight alive. Simply because they all appear to have the ability to will their own death.

Several items of Disruptor technology have been observed by ZeroZero agents. Some have been captured. One of the most significant events was the recovery of a Trans-Parallel Communicator (TPC) from a Disruptor Lodge destroyed by ZeroZero agents. Which has freed ZeroZero from a total reliance on agents with the Empathic Link.

ZeroZero also discovered that the supposed psionic talents of the Bishop and Inner Council were often the product of Disruptor machines. These artificially implanted psychic abilities can usually be predicted, giving the more flexible psi-active ZeroZero agents a much needed edge.

Once established the Lodge acts as the tool of the Disruptors on the parallel. There might, in fact, be a number of Lodges, some acting in opposition to each other. The Lodges are used to initiate and control the social and geopolitical manipulations that the Disruptors wish to create.Valhalla Nova has extensive files detailing individual Lodge actions and reports of the activities of Disruptor Knights and Rooks.

It is evident that many of the Bishops and Inner Councils have no idea of the wider ramifications of their actions. In some circumstances the Disruptors have brought about situations where their own Lodges have been destroyed; usually whilst another is being created, or it's influence enhanced. Communication, using a TPC, between Bishop and Disruptor control has only been observed a handful of times, by ZeroZero agents who survived the experience.

In each case Disruptor control represented itself as some kind of guiding oracle, Organisation or figurehead. The only consistency is that the TPC shows the image of a man (in one case a talking statue), in robes or uniform, against some sort of symbol which represents the Lodge. Each man, and the statue, showed a marked racial similarity.

Source: The Arkwright Multiverse

(image via Comixology)

[fingerless-glovez]

Tales of Home Point: Welcome Home

Eight children were orphaned after a dreadful bus crash stole their parents away from them. They were a loving couple, and although they were...eccentric to say the least, they were good parents.

After the accident, the children's aunt on their mother’s side took them in. She and her husband were extraordinarily rich and sophisticated. They lived in a large mansion with six bedrooms, six bathrooms, a ballroom, a library, an enormous labyrinth magnificent dining hall, and a swimming pool that you’d swear was from a beautiful tropical resort. Many staff served the couple everyday, although they were really just for show.

The aunt and her husband resented the idea of raising her sister’s rowdy little demon spawns. And so they decided; if the children were to live in their home, they would have to make them refined high-class ladies and gentlemen.

The pompous couple started by changing the children’s names, which they had deemed “too odd”. They would now be known as Dominic, Julian, Elizabeth, Katelyn, Ryan, Henry, Clementine, and Sebastian Halewell. 

They were made to hand over their charms to restrict them from their animal forms, and to remove the vibrantly colored streaks and highlights from their hair. She then hid them in various places.

A governess was hired to teach them math, make them read long and old books, and teach them how to be proper and perfect. 

They were stuffed into fancy clothing; suits, ties, frilly dresses that were sickly pale in color, at least 3 layers of heavy makeup, and shoes that were forbidden to be made dirty. And these were just their casual outfits.

Because the aunt hated the children’s father, anyone from their paternal family was banned from having any contact with them. Those ruffians would only hinder her plan to make perfect children. She was hellbent on succeeding where her parents failed. No niece or nephew of hers would end up like her sister.

This was easier said than done though, especially for the oldest girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 31st, 2013

“Elizabeth,” Victoria Halewell flatly addressed her eldest niece, not even looking at her, “elbows off the table. Why must I remind you everyday? And please, no slouching at the dinner table.”

Eleven year-old Elizabeth Halewell internally groaned as she sat up straight. She glanced around at her siblings before briefly making eye contact with Du-no, that’s not his name anymore, you should know this by now-Julian. He quickly looked back at his food, probably hoping his bigger sis hadn’t seen him looking pitifully at her. She smiled lightly, grateful for some sympathy.

God, she hated this house. Day in-day out, it was always the same; “Elizabeth, get that ugly little piece of hair out of my sight.” “Elizabeth, please walk like a normal person. Your feet point to the sides and it’s very awkward to look at.” “Elizabeth, don’t touch your face. You’re ruining your makeup.”

“Elizabeth,” John’s stale voice interrupted another one of her episodes of resentment. “Will you quit that fidgeting? It’s making us all incredibly uncomfortable.”

“In fact,” Victoria added, “why don’t you just excuse yourself? If you’re not going to eat then don’t ruin meal time for the rest of us.”

Elizabeth, doing the best she could to “properly” remove herself from the scene (which failed and got another pointer from her aunt because, you know, Elizabeth was Elizabeth), kept her head down as she trudged up to one of the bathrooms to wash the makeup off of her face. She looked at herself in the mirror as mascara tricked down her face. Pathetic. she thought.

She then went to her room, closed and locked the door, and plopped face first onto her bed and groaned. Another night in my personal luxurious prison cell. All by myself.

She and her other siblings were all designated to a certain room. Her brothers, Dominic, Julian, Liz-no-Ryan, Henry and Sebastian all shared a room with twin mattresses. The two of the triplets, Henry and Di-get it right kid-Sebastian shared the bottom bunk since there was an odd number of boys. Her sisters, Katelyn and St-Clementine, the other triplet, also shared a room with twin mattresses.

Elizabeth slept in a bedroom alone. It was John’s way of getting her to behave. She was always isolated from the rest of her siblings because of her...faults. No, not just her siblings. Her aunt and uncle basically ordered everyone in the house to completely ignore her very existence unless she did something wrong. And it wasn’t going to stop unless she got her act together and erased her stupid flaws. Julian would occasionally try and sneak away to visit, but Aunt Victoria quickly put a stop to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 1st, 2014

Elizabeth jolted up from her bed. She heard something. It sounded like...singing? She glanced around. Then she saw it. A small red something. It was hovering above her bedroom balcony. The second she blinked, it was gone. But the singing continued.

Originally, Elizabeth tried to block out the sound. But, after numerous failed attempts to muffle singing under her pillow, she found herself on the balcony. She sat, legs crossed, on the steel railing. The view was nice, even if she hated everything else about her living situation, she still loved to look at the snow as descended onto the ground. Between the clouds, the moon shined exquisitely in the sky. If only she could get closer to it.

Then, she heard it again.

What is that? Elizabeth wondered, Why is calling me?

Calling. That was the best way to put it. Like a siren, it cried to her, and Elizabeth wanted to find it. Badly.

Elizabeth stood on the balcony, stepping away from the rail. Then, she jumped over, flipped, and landed gracefully onto the top of the rail. With her arms out for balance, she turned left and stepped across the thin iron like she was walking on a tightrope. She looked up, noticing where the roof stuck out above the balcony door. She stepped towards it, then she leaped. She got a firm grip on the edge and skillfully climbed up.

Elizabeth was now on the roof. The wind sped through her hair and made her dress flap like mad. Flakes of snow whirled like a tornado around her. It was cold, but she didn’t care. Her eyes were locked on the prize.

The glowing red something was about ten feet away. Elizabeth took one step, and it flew towards her. Elizabeth braced herself for impact, but felt nothing. She opened her eyes and gazed mystified at the something. A little red triangle that dangled from a silver chain.It was her charm. 

Her stolen charm! It was here, right in front of her face!

The small ruby triangle zipped around her body. It seemed to be studying her. Then it slowly flew in front of her face again. Suddenly it zoomed away. Elizabeth bounded after it.

You’re not getting away from me! Not again!

  The charm dashed to every corner of the roof. Elizabeth chased it relentlessly, vaulting over the chimney, jumping across gaps in the roof, and sliced throw the cold snow as the sky dumped it upon her. That charm was hers.

Suddenly the charm stopped. Elizabeth caught up with it at the highest point of the roof. She stood confused as to why it stopped. The charm hovered over to her right side, the two links on the ends snapping open and attaching to the pink sash around her waist.

Now Elizabeth was the one glowing. She whipped around, confused and a little bit anxious about what was happening. She felt weightless. She felt herself...changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was beaming with pure ecstasy.

For the first time since her parents died, she looked like herself. Short silver hair with green streaks lacing it. A long silver and white horse’s tail. Fluffy gray wolf ears that twitched with excitement. A giant pair of tannish pegasus wings that ripped through the back of her faint pink dress.

Holy crap, this is awesome!

“Welcome back,” purred a voice from behind her. Elizabeth spun on her heel to see a familiar face in the doorway. “Ace.”

No. The coyote man with black and purple hair and shiny blue eyes couldn’t possibly be here. She slapped herself in the face to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. The pain was there.

“Thunder?” she breathed.

“Glad to see you again, third biggest nephew.” The uncle, Thunder, opened his arms for a hug. Ace nearly knocked him to the ground.

After a nice long hug, Trace pulled away. “How did you get in here?”

“Well, it went a little something like this,” Thunder explained. “I got to town by ship. You never knew, but I swing by every other week just to check up on my brother’s kids.” Ace smiled, happy to know that someone cared about him.

“When I got to the house and saw you running around on the roof chasing a red thing like a runaway balloon. Then there was a big white light. So, I snuck in through the window and started looking for you.”

“But, what exactly happened? And why didn’t it happen, like, I dunno, when Victoria made us put the charms in the box in the first place?”

“Beats me. All I know is that you’re here, and you’re back in your animal form.”

“So...what about everyone else? Why haven’t their charms come to them?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re the only one that hasn’t changed.” Thunder looked away from his nephew. “I’ve seen what those pieces of shit aunt and other uncle of yours have done to them. Their spirits are shattered, their personalities are bleached, and they just look...empty.”

Thunder smiled, giggling like he was drunk. Trace cocked his head, making him choke out a laugh.

“But, you...you’re just like Venice. You’re tough, stubborn, smart-mouthed, you do that thing with your head when you’re confused...you’ve got your dad’s charm, kid!”

Ace shuttered internally. This was getting too sappy for him. If he didn’t change the subject soon, he’d be crying.

“So...what’s next?”

Thunder ceased his monologue and pulled himself together.

“I’m taking you home.”

Ace’s eyes lit up, but then they dimmed again. “All of us?” Thunder shook his head.

“I’ve only got a change of clothes for you. The sad truth I’ve learned is that...they won’t leave. Not while under Victoria’s control. They’d rat me out the second they see me. And you, you can’t stay here any longer. You’re hard, but you’re not indestructible. I don’t want my brother’s closest child to end up like the rest of them.”

“But what about my siblings? Can’t we tell them where we’re going?”

“Well,” Thunder said, “there is one...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Rusty!” Ace whisper shouted as he shook his brother awake. Julian, or rather, Rusty, grumbled.

“Ugh...Sebastian...what do you want…? Go back to bed...”

With a grunt of impatience, Trace grabbed Rusty by his night shirt’s collar and slapped him in the face. Rusty’s eyes burst open as he plopped back into his pillow.

“Ow!” Rusty sat up and rubbed his cheek. In that few seconds, he went from grumpy, to enraged, to stunned.

Ace was still in his animal form, but was wearing a red hoodie, blue jeans, black and white sneakers and had his hair up in a loose ponytail. The green streaks were clearly visible, as was the chain with his charm dangling from two belt loops.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“E-Ace? What are you doing up this early?” Rusty put his glasses on and looked at his clock. It was 3:35 AM.

“I, uh, just wanted to let you know that...I’m leaving.”

Rusty, much like Ace, cocked his head, bewildered. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

Ace didn’t hesitate. “Thunder is giving me a lift back to Home Point-”

“Thunder?!” Rusty hissed.

“Yeah, Uncle Thunder. You know, that one guy we’re supposed to hate? Dad’s brother? Don’t pretend, Rusty, I know you talk to him too.”

By now, Rusty was out of bed and looking at his oldest younger brother with eyes that pleaded for him to say that he was joking. Ace, in return, gave him a look that said that he wished he was.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Ace said to break the silence. Rusty stared at him for a few more seconds.

“Why not?”

“You’ve seen how the other six are, you’re the only one I trust not to tip off Victoria. Besides I already forged my own dummy in my bed-why are you looking at me like that?”

A smile had cracked across Rusty’s face. “I always figured you’d be the first to leave. Okay, I’ll keep your secret. That is, of course, if you can keep mine.”

The moment he saw his brother tilt his head was the moment he rolled up his sleeve to reveal his arm brace, fashioned by a softly glowing citrine triangle. Stars were now in Ace’s eyes.

“You, too?”

“The thing had me running all around the labyrinth. It stopped a few times to let me catch my breath. I’m pretty sure it was making fun of me. Then I had to go out and buy a wig to hide my hair.” Rusty pulled off his wig to reveal the golden streaks in his pitch black hair.

“So why didn’t you leave?” Ace inquired.

“Someone would’ve noticed. I guess I’m a tad too good at pretending to be someone I’m not, and now they like me. You, on the other hand…”

His brother met him with an eyeroll. “Yeah…”

“But, the other thing is, you’re braver than me. I’d be so overwhelmed by the pros and cons of booking it for Home Point that I’d have to slam my face into a sink of cold water. You’re not a wimp like me.”

“Ah, shyuddup, you’re not a wimp. You had the audacity to exclude me from Twister, remember?”

Rusty smirked at him and pulled him into a hug. Ace gladly returned the favor.

“So long, my dude.”

“Good luck, my good man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the crack of dawn. The wind had calmed down as Trace and his uncle strolled down the North Dakota street. They were fairly under dressed, Ace being his human form and still in the dress his aunt had stuffed him into, but they weren’t bothered too much.

Thunder, back in his human form, was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and a blue scarf. His hair remained black with purple edges.

“So...uh,” Ace said to his uncle, “where are we going?”

“To meet Spencer.” Thunder replied.

“Spencer?”

“My wife. She’s waiting for us at the docks.”

“You’re married?”

“With a kid. Kinda. I’m actually her stepdad.”

“How old?”

“Seven year old little rascal. But she’s really sweet once she starts to like ya. Name’s Pip.”

“What’s she into?”

“Demons.”

“Interesting topic. Please, go on.”

The two chatted until they had reached the harbor. There, a blonde woman with rosy red tips ran up to them. At least, until she slipped and face-planted into the snow.

“Is that my aunt?” Ace inquired, completely unfazed.

“That’s your aunt.” Thunder replied.

“Is she seriously wearing a T-shirt during January? In North Dakota?”

“She’s Canadian.”

“Lucky…” Ace grumbled, embarrassed to be twitching in the cold.

Once Spencer had gotten up and situated herself, she continued her trek to her husband and nephew, more carefully this time.

“Hello, husband.” She said, putting herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Thunder on the cheek, as Thunder was pretty tall.

“And hello there!” She exclaimed, bending over to see the boy with her husband. “You’re Ace, right?”

The eleven year-old nodded and Spencer continued.

“Thunder’s told me all about you. I’m so sorry about what happened to your parents.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it.” Ace lied as he shrugged. Spencer obviously didn’t believe him. “Mostly.”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Thunder quickly intervened. Ace and Spencer awkwardly laughed it off and thanked him.

After about four years of being trapped in Victoria’s mansion, Ace was elated to see a Dungeoneeran ship again. When Spencer asked if he wanted to to meet her in the crow’s nest, the immediate answer was “Oh my god, YES!” The two reverted to their animal forms and climbed to the top of the ship.

Spencer was a squirrel and panda hybrid. She had a purple squirrel’s tail and ears, and big purple spots around her eyes. Her hair was long and pink, still with the rosy red tips, and she wore a white T-shirt with watercolor hearts on it, blue leggings with stars, and fuzzy brown boots. On her arm was a bracelet that held her smokey quartz charm, as well as smaller charms that were designed to be fruit.

“So, the reason I brought you up here,” Spencer said to Ace once they reached the crow’s nest, “I wanted to give you something.”

Spencer pulled a blue cloth from out of her front pocket. The cloth was an hombre of shades that started rather dark from the top, but was lighter at the bottom. And no matter which way you turned it, the order of shades was always the same from top to bottom.

“We told Pip that she was going to meet you on New Year’s day, and she really wanted to give you something. But the kid’s all worn out from staying up all night and fast asleep at my mom’s house.”

“So...what is it?” Ace asked, curiously examining the gift.

“It’s phantom’s fabric.” Spencer continued. “It gives you the power to become invisible and faze through walls. I tried it myself.”

Ace tied the cloth around his neck, making it a bandana. The material felt quite nice, he had to admit.

“Where did she get this?”

“Thunder mentioned that Pip likes demons right?” Ace nodded. “Well, she has a little demon friend who is actually her age. He gave it to her to give to you.”

“I’ll never take it off.” Ace said, beaming.

After a few minutes, the entire ship was engulfed in pink fog. Spencer and Ace became excited knowing what was coming next.

“HEY, GUYS!” Thunder called from the deck. The two in the crow’s nest made their way down to hear what he had to say.

“We’re almost to the whirlpool. Grab onto something sturdy.”

Ace dashed to the front of the ship and fastened his grip on the rail. After a few moments of eager anticipation, his eyes widened at the bright glow to the whirlpool. 

The ship drifted right across it, and then the circling started. Thunder turned the wheel slowly in the opposite direction to keep them from going down too fast.

This is it, Ace thought as the water was nearly at his level. I’m never getting chained down, again.

[nightingveilxo]

Ajay as Memories of Torture, Snipers, Bombs, and Moriarty’s NATO Code

AGRA - Anti-jam GPS Receiver & Antennae [AGR is a PPS (i.e., Y-code)]

AJAY - Anti-Jam Antennae (Y code) - Works with M code.

M code - missile code ( x )

MiniGAS

Raytheon UK has taken its first order for a pre-production MiniGAS, the latest in GPS Anti-Jam technology, designed and manufactured by the company in the U.K. This contract, awarded by an undisclosed customer, requires Raytheon UK to produce demonstrator units for customer evaluation.

MiniGAS is the latest in Raytheon’s GPS anti-jam family of products, and it aims to be the lightest and smallest GPS anti-jamming system produced by Raytheon UK. It will have flexible form factors, suited to land, unmanned aerial vehicles and missile platforms. Raytheon is also producing demonstration units of its Landshield high performance digital anti-jam product for customer evaluation. - 2013 ( x )

AMMO - ammunition

GARA - Give A Rat’s Ass  (The Giant Rat of Sumatra)

Remember our ongoing The Princess Bride scenario?

R.O.U.S. Rodents Of Unusual Size

are giant rat-like creatures. 

Westley and Buttercup's encounter with the R.O.U.S.es (in the film) was striking. The rodent's presence is made known through a sinister foreshadowing before it leaps into the scene, attacking Westley. Westley immediately engages combat with the rodent, and Buttercup is horrified—standing on the side. Westley eventually defeats and kills the rodent after a bloody battle. ( x )

MARY (moving to stand at the other side of the table): No, I-I-I mean how did you find me? SHERLOCK (frowning as if he doesn’t know why she’s surprised): I’m Sherlock Holmes. MARY: No, really, though, how?  Every movement I made was entirely random; every new personality just on the roll of a dice! SHERLOCK: Mary, no human action is ever truly random. (Quick fire) An advanced grasp of the mathematics of probability mapped onto a thorough apprehension of human psychology and the known dispositions of any given individual can reduce the number of variables considerably. (Mary stares at him, bamboozled by his technobabble.) SHERLOCK (quick fire): I myself know of at least fifty-eight techniques to refine this seemingly infinite array of randomly generated possibilities down to the smallest number of feasible variables. (She nods.) SHERLOCK: But they’re really difficult, so instead I just ... stuck a tracer on the inside of the memory stick. (He snorts laughter as her mouth drops a little, then she laughs as well.) MARY: Oh, you bastard! (She looks down on his giggling face.) MARY: You bastard! SHERLOCK: I know, but your face! MARY: “The mathematics of probability”?! SHERLOCK: You believed that. MARY (throwing up her hands): “Feasible variables”! SHERLOCK: Yes.  I started to run out about then. (Still grinning, Mary clenches her hands either side of her head in frustration.) MARY: In the memory stick! JOHN (walking into the room): Yeah, that was my idea. (She turns to look at him.  He looks back at her straight-faced and her smile slowly drops.) Night falls outside, and the call to prayer can be heard.  In the hotel, Mary has taken off her dark wig to reveal her blonde hair tied back.  John is sitting on the corner of the low table while she stands in front of him. JOHN: AGRA. MARY: Yes. JOHN: Mm-hm.  You said it was your initials. (Mary bites her lip.) MARY: In a way, that was true. JOHN: In a way? (He shakes his head and looks away.) JOHN: So many lies. MARY: I’m so sorry. JOHN: I don’t just mean you. MARY: What? JOHN: Alex, Gabriel, Ajay ...  You’re ‘R.’ (She nods.  He looks up at her, a small tight smile on his face.) JOHN: Rosamund. MARY (after a slight pause): Rosamund Mary. (He nods.) MARY: I always liked ‘Mary.’ JOHN (smiling): Yeah, me too. ( x )

[smoothjazs]

Slow growth is Good growth

Today consisted of a personal pep talk. A pep talk to keep pressing on and showing up. Even when it feels like your efforts are going unnoticed or leads us out of our comfort zone for that matter. Today, I’m declaring that slow growth can actually be good growth. Despite our discomfort.

In a message delivered on May 20, 2013 Pope Francis said: “When it comes to living out the gospel message, the best way is by going out of our comfort zone.” He went on to say, “This is dangerous. We lock ourselves in our parish, with our friendships, in our movement, with those who think just like we do. But you know what happens? When the Church is closed off, it gets sick.”

Pope Francis also said: “today’s world needs many witnesses. Not so much teachers, as witnesses. It’s not just about talk. It’s about talking through our actions. Living a coherent life. It’s precisely about a coherent life.” When it comes to living out this message, the Pope said the best way is by going out of our comfort zone. Maybe that means trying something new, or traveling. Maybe you want to conquer fears this year, or make sure you’re not settling for anything less than a magnanimous life. But in the midst of doing all of those things, it may feel as though our process or our efforts may feel slow-paced or inefficient.

Today, it’s all about that: our slow-growth in the midst of discomfort. About being honest in our relationship with the Lord and prayer. How to encourage “healthy vulnerability in our lives. It’s going to be about showing up. Even when it feels like no one is watching. when nobody is listening. or nobody is engaging in your work. I don’t know about you but these feelings are definitely felt on my end from time to time. But as someone who always tries to see the big picture, who tries to find the opportunities in the obstacles, I’m choosing to declare that slow growth can actually be good growth.

It’s okay to go slowly: It’s a good thing. “Slow and steady wins the race,” right? I think it’s fairly common to feel ashamed of disappointed when our realities don’t match up with our expectations. Expectations that we place on ourselves. We grow impatient, we start thinking that we could be, should be, or would be further along than where we are currently standing.

What I want to say is to trust the pace of your journey!

There’s this wild statistic that I heard last year and it’s that 50% of small businesses fail or don’t make it to the 5th year mark in their business. While there can be a multitude of reasons for this, how crazy is that? And that’s the same statistic when it comes to showing up for the Lord. We’re on this all time high for a few year’s time and then eventually feel inadequate when life tears us down. There can be so many possible scenarios of why small businesses don’t make it there or why some of us fall short and quit. But I’m sure that at least one of those scenarios is because of these expectations that we place on ourselves. They become this burden that we carry each day. And I’m sure that many businesses and many of us have thrown in that towel or waved that white flag in the air because we simply felt burnt out or discouraged from the game. Which can feel like one extreme to another sometimes. There’s high high’s and very low low’s.

So this is why I believe slow growth is good growth. Not only because it builds character and it allows you time become the person that you need to be or to gain the skills we need to gain to carry out our ideas and beliefs to begin with. But also because I think it keeps us going. It keeps you from waving that flag after a rollercoaster ride or emotions and experiences.

Hopping on the slow growth chain is not without it’s challenges. Let’s be honest, showing up is hard when you don’t see a return right away.

In my 40 days of silence with God I’m re-learning that it’s not about relying on my strength but to have full trust in Him and his process as he continues to “make everything new!” (Revelations 21:5) The reality is that our growth is all about planting seeds that don’t tend to flourish right away. Sometimes not even weeks, months, or even years later. While that can be frustrating as hell to think about, it’s a good thing. God reminds us in our wavering moments “to not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9) Because this added time, this space, this stillness, is making our growth better. It’s building up our ability to see it through in the best way possible.

Choosing to refine your life takes courage and vulnerability and the risk of failing in front of others. But on the other side of those things is so much goodness, so many results, and so many opportunities that are sometimes even better that what we expected.

Although a call to refinement forces us to live in discomfort sometimes, Faith thrives in discomfort. God designed us to develop habits of obedience and holiness slowly and incrementally because the proves teaches and trains us to live by faith rather than by our often inaccurate perceptions and emotions. The waiting, the slow growth, teaches us to trust more in the truth of what God says rather than the impulses of what we see or how we feel. Remember, it’s not about what you can’t do but more of what God can do.

As Christians, we are slow-grown and fruit-bearing. God’s ways with us may not seem efficient to us. We might even think they are needlessly slow and inefficient. But none of God’s ways are needless and God is not slow; He’s patient. (2 Peter 3:9)

As we grow from discomfort and out of our comfort zone, God wants us to learn patience, too. It’s one of his slow-growing spiritual fruits. We shouldn’t be discouraged with our slow-growth, we should determine to “dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.” (Psalm 37:3) It’s bearing in mind that “what God is doing is something we do not understand, but we will learn to understand” in His time. (John 13:7)

So tonight, my intention for all of us is to examine the forces that shape our expectations. Do not let wrong assumptions fuel your discouragement or disillusionment. Your Christian life is much more like patient, faithful, slow-farming than modern, efficient manufacturing. Let us fill our cup by trusting our divine farmer, our vinedresser. He has very good reasons for maturing us slowly.

Trust the process.

Peace, love, and blessings.

[azveille]

New treatments for peanut allergies sound promising, but questions remain

Whenever I see a report touting possible new peanut allergy treatments, I devour it. I can’t help it. It’s an occupational hazard for any health journalist whose reporting specialty and medical history intertwine.

I write about the business of health care, focusing on how consumers interact with the system — what we pay, what we get and why American care costs so much. But in this particular instance, I have another kind of authority: 26 years of life-threatening allergies to nuts and peanuts.

So when Brisbane, Calif.-based Aimmune Therapeutics recently sparked optimistic headlines after releasing clinical trial results that its allergy product, AR101, would reduce the risks linked to an accidental exposure to peanuts, I received the usual wave of questions from friends, co-workers and my parents: Would you try it? Could this help?

Aimmune is just one company eyeing the prize. Childhood peanut allergy diagnoses increased more than 20 percent in the United States from 2010 to 2017. The global market for relief is worth as much as $2 billion. The French drugmaker DBV Technologies is also working to commercialize a peanut allergy patch. Other companies, including industry giant Sanofi, are following their lead.

If any one of them succeeds, it could change my life.

My friends call nuts “Shefali poison.” My allergies to peanuts first surfaced when, as a 15-month-old, I picked Thai noodles off an aunt’s plate and developed hives on my face. A few months later, I ended up in the hospital after I tasted my mom’s kaju barfi — an Indian dessert with cashews (to which I am also allergic). Nobody in my family had ever heard of peanut allergies.

Writer Shefali Luthra, second from right, as a seventh-grader. She says she has carried epinephrine for her allergies to nuts and peanuts since she was 7 years old. (Courtesy of the Luthra Family)

I’ve carried epinephrine since I was 7 years old. My friends are trained to inject it in my leg, the standard procedure for an emergency allergen exposure, although I luckily haven’t had to take a shot of it since I was 4. (Another child in my Montessori class had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.) My mom also recalls another incident when she had to pick me up early from day care because the class was making peanut butter bird feeders. And I spent too many years of pre-adolescence eating lunch at the designated “peanut-free table.” Now, I can only dream of flying to visit my parents for Christmas without worrying about whether my seatmate’s snacks might induce anaphylaxis. And yes, kissing someone who has just eaten peanut butter would put my life in danger.

But are these pills and patches a true breakthrough for people like me?

I approached the question as I would any other assignment. I read the research, called immunologists, and spoke with economists and drug pricing experts about whether these treatments offer meaningful benefit.

One of the first things I heard: “We are still in the infancy of these treatments,” said Corinne Keet, a pediatric allergist at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine.

Medically, there’s a lot we don’t know about the risks, how much these drugs could help and how long any effects would last. “None of these treatments have been shown to prevent fatal reaction,” Keet said.

The idea behind them is to desensitize people. Aimmune’s “peanut pill” is modeled on the oral therapies some specialists use to slowly wean allergic kids back on to nuts. This approach has gained popularity in recent years, especially for children with multiple allergies, or when it’s a substance particularly hard to avoid.

A colleague’s young daughter, who was born with multiple allergies, used that very treatment, as did a younger cousin of mine who, for the first several years of her life, was allergic to — not joking — almost everything but fruits and vegetables. In my case, this therapy came into vogue after I was too old to have a good chance of it weakening my sensitivities.

How it works: Kids ingest tiny, escalating doses of peanut protein. They then stay on peanut protein — Aimmune recommends the pill, although other doctors I spoke to suggested a little bit of peanut — as a maintenance drug.

But it’s unclear how much the new therapies would improve upon that ad hoc oral immunotherapy that are already being offered by allergists. Instead of drugs, they use store-bought peanut protein, usually defatted peanut flour available online for as little as $1 a pound. This method isn’t approved by the Food and Drug Administration, and often isn’t covered by insurance — although doctors’ visits can be billed as “food challenges” or other visits that are typically covered.

In contrast, Aimmune’s product is expected to cost between $5,000 and $10,000 for the first six months of use, and $300 to $400 per month after, although the company declined to confirm these, or provide other, pricing estimates. DBV, Aimmune’s chief rival, has come up with a wearable skin patch that would transmit tiny, desensitizing protein doses. Analysts predict DBV’s will cost more than $6,000 for a year’s supply. The company says it has not yet determined a price. ­Joseph Becker, a company spokesman, said it does not view oral immunotherapy as a competitor.

“There’s excitement, there’s caution and a lot of unanswered questions,” warned Erwin Gelfand, a pediatrics and immunology professor at the University of Colorado’s School of Medicine.

According to Aimmune’s results, published in the New England Journal of Medicine, two-thirds of allergic children could ingest 600 milligrams of peanut without harm after going through treatment.

To be clear, even with Aimmune’s help, someone like me still couldn’t safely eat PB&J. But it would desensitize me enough that I could taste a friend’s wine if he recently ate peanut-topped pad thai.

Still, the treatment comes with caveats.

While 496 children started the trial, only 372 completed it. Of the 20 percent who backed out, half did so because of adverse events. About 14 percent of children getting treatment still had to take epinephrine, and one experienced anaphylaxis, a severe reaction that can involve rashes, vomiting, a tightening throat and difficulty breathing. (For an allergic kid, even the possibility is maybe one of the most terrifying things you can imagine.)

Children who completed the regimen still had to take small doses of peanut protein daily, either the Aimmune drug or a controlled peanut serving. Statistically significant benefits were clear only in patients through age 17, although Daniel Adelman, the company’s chief medical officer, said Aimmune plans to do a follow-up trial for adults.

And the results don’t indicate who would probably benefit, or how long improvements would last. That’s impossible to know, Adelman said. He said, however, accidental peanut exposure is scary enough — and pure avoidance ineffective enough — that the treatment is still worth it.

But all this means that anyone who has gone through Aimmune’s regimen would still want to carry epinephrine, and try to avoid peanuts.

“Not everybody responds well,” Gelfand said. When you factor in those details, the results are “not all that impressive.”

Tina Sindher, a pediatric allergist at Stanford University, pointed out that the Aimmune pill is a repackaged, clinically tested version of that homegrown oral therapy many allergists have been using. DBV’s peanut patch, Viaskin, to a lesser extent, is the same — more convenient, perhaps, and more regulated, but still a variation on the existing medical approach.

“This concept has been around for a long time,” she said.

What’s new is the addition of labor, standardization and federal oversight — which companies then say demonstrates increased value.

It highlights a pattern I’ve noticed from my reporting: Drugmakers develop medication that refines a low-tech remedy, run a clinical trial to secure FDA approval and then sell it at a higher price.

For pharma, it’s a logical way to profit. But it puts patients in a bind.

“The hard outcome is we have these new products and they’re just about as good or slightly better than what we have,” said Nicholson Price, an assistant professor at the University of Michigan Law School, who studies drug pricing. “And they’re a lot more expensive.” He noted: “That’s when the choices get hard, and we’re not good at making hard choices.”

Also skeptical? The closest authority I know: my mother, who raised me with peanut allergies when they were more or less unheard of, and is now doing it all over again for my 10-year-old brother. (Another brother, my twin, was allergy-free until about a year ago. Adult onset peanut allergy isn’t that uncommon)

“It’s not worth it,” my mom told me. Her concern? Getting any of us to maintain a peanut dose — without knowing how long that reduced sensitivity would last — could induce what she called “a false sense of security.”

This thinking isn’t out of line, Sindher said. The way these studies are touted, she said, often “gloss over the fact that there’s a lot we don’t know.”

So for now, I’ll have to maintain my distance from the newsroom stash of Reese’s Pieces. My epinephrine and I aren’t parting ways anytime soon.

Kaiser Health News is a nonprofit news service covering health issues that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

[unixcommerce]

Don’t Want to Risk Your Own Money on Your Business? 13 Alternative Financing Strategies

Getting any business off the ground requires sufficient capital. However, all the financial stress doesn’t have to fall on you as the entrepreneur — there are other ways to secure funding for your startup without assuming 100% of the risk yourself. That’s why we asked the members of Young Entrepreneur Council (YEC) the following question:

“Starting a business is a big risk — especially financially. What’s one alternative to risking their own money an entrepreneur could consider when starting their business?”

Where to Get Alternative Financing for Business

Here’s what YEC community members had to say:

1. Solidify Your Business Model to Attract Private Capital

“If you have a solid idea, do not try to reinvent the wheel. Go with a business concept that is more proven to work so you mitigate your risk a bit. Also, when you raise private capital, if it’s a good idea, you will be able to find money easily. If you face challenges, usually the idea needs more refining.” ~ Julian Montoya, JM11 Investments

2. Tap Into Your Personal and Professional Networks

“As soon as you start thinking about starting a business, you should utilize your entire network, both personally and professionally, to see if you can drum up interest from potential investors. This can come from family, friends or other business owners who believe in your vision. Have a clear plan in place to show those people you have a viable business model.” ~ Justin Lefkovitch, Mirrored Media

3. Invest in Free or Low-Cost Tools

“See how far you can go just based on sweat equity and invest in the tools you need that won’t hurt you financially. It’s the best way to learn how to do things lean, and learn even more intimately what you actually need versus what you perceive you need — and that’s the best lesson you could possibly ever receive.” ~ Richard Fong, Ready Green

4. Build Something From Within a Company

“If the entrepreneur route is not a perfect fit for you (yet), try to build from inside a company. Be an “intrapreneur,” so to speak. Perhaps you could start a new branch, product or service. The downside is that you will likely need a high position, soft power, a track record and quite a bit of strategic thinking – but if your thing is good, the company will back you.” ~ Joey Bertschler, bitgrit

5. Pre-Sell Your Product or Service

“Pre-selling your product or service ensures that there truly is a market for what you are offering, and also provides you with the capital to then fund the development of your product. Crowdfunding platforms such as Kickstarter have become quite popular, but it could also be as simple as approaching a couple of prospective clients and getting signed contracts and deposits from them.” ~ Diana Goodwin, MarketBox

6. Seek Out Flexible Funding Options

“Before turning to traditional funding options, it’s important to consider all your options. There are so many sources of flexible funding out there today that can help you successfully launch your business, cover daily costs and support growth. A merchant cash advance, for example, is easy for startups to qualify for and does not add a burden of debt because it is a cash advance and not a loan.” ~ Blair Thomas, eMerchantBroker

7. Trade Your Time and Skills for Resources

“When I started my massage practice, I couldn’t afford to rent a space on my own, so I offered my therapeutic services for free at a physical therapy clinic in exchange for a free treatment room to build up my private practice. When you start a business you sometimes need to get creative, especially if you lack funds.” ~ Rachel Beider, PRESS Modern Massage

8. Share an Office

“When we first got started, we could not afford to pay our team and full rent. We found another small business in the area with an extra two rooms, and we rented them out. It saved us money, it saved them money, and after being in the same space for a few months, we ended up collaborating on some ideas with them.” ~ Zach Binder, Bell + Ivy

9. Launch a Crowdfunding Campaign

“Crowdfunding is generally viewed as a mixed bag, but there’s still plenty of good that’s come from this strategy. If you have a good idea, you’ll be able to connect to people who have similar interests, including your target audience. You can use these funds to get your business started, which could encourage bigger investors to step in to help.” ~ John Turner, SeedProd LLC

10. Partner With Someone

“One of the best ways to start a business without investing your own money is to look at your network. Consider who may be willing to partner with you (for instance, on a strategic alliance or equity allocation) so you can leverage their audience to build your own audience and brand. Just keep in mind, this approach needs to be mutually beneficial.” ~ Kristin Kimberly Marquet, Marquet Media, LLC

11. Consult First, Productize Later

“Whenever possible, build a business around consulting and productize later. All digital tools are designed to save time or optimize processes. Offer this as a service until you generate enough demand to invest in a product that handles that. Then you can slowly transition from a consultancy model to a product company and expand with the economy of scale.” ~ Mario Peshev, DevriX

12. Start Pitching Investors

“If you don’t want to risk your own money or if you don’t have the amount of money that is necessary to get your thing started from the ground, do what most startups do. Pitch your idea to the investors, involve more stakeholders with your project, and if you’re convincing enough, you’ll be able to raise enough funds.” ~ Solomon Thimothy, OneIMS

13. Do the Things You’re Good At

“You can reduce expenses and risk by doing things you’re already good at. Part of the reason why you’d need to invest in your business is to hire people to carry out other activities. Try to streamline your work and solutions so that it’s something you can do on your own, whether it’s coding or writing content. In this way, you’ll minimize your investment size and risk.” ~ Blair Williams, MemberPress

READ MORE ABOUT:

Small Business Loans

Financial Management

This article, “Don’t Want to Risk Your Own Money on Your Business? 13 Alternative Financing Strategies” was first published on Small Business Trends

https://smallbiztrends.com/

The post Don’t Want to Risk Your Own Money on Your Business? 13 Alternative Financing Strategies appeared first on Unix Commerce.

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[businessreviewguidenow]

Don’t Want to Risk Your Own Money on Your Business? 13 Alternative Financing Strategies

Getting any business off the ground requires sufficient capital. However, all the financial stress doesn’t have to fall on you as the entrepreneur — there are other ways to secure funding for your startup without assuming 100% of the risk yourself. That’s why we asked the members of Young Entrepreneur Council (YEC) the following question:

“Starting a business is a big risk — especially financially. What’s one alternative to risking their own money an entrepreneur could consider when starting their business?”

Where to Get Alternative Financing for Business

Here’s what YEC community members had to say:

1. Solidify Your Business Model to Attract Private Capital

“If you have a solid idea, do not try to reinvent the wheel. Go with a business concept that is more proven to work so you mitigate your risk a bit. Also, when you raise private capital, if it’s a good idea, you will be able to find money easily. If you face challenges, usually the idea needs more refining.” ~ Julian Montoya, JM11 Investments

2. Tap Into Your Personal and Professional Networks

“As soon as you start thinking about starting a business, you should utilize your entire network, both personally and professionally, to see if you can drum up interest from potential investors. This can come from family, friends or other business owners who believe in your vision. Have a clear plan in place to show those people you have a viable business model.” ~ Justin Lefkovitch, Mirrored Media

3. Invest in Free or Low-Cost Tools

“See how far you can go just based on sweat equity and invest in the tools you need that won’t hurt you financially. It’s the best way to learn how to do things lean, and learn even more intimately what you actually need versus what you perceive you need — and that’s the best lesson you could possibly ever receive.” ~ Richard Fong, Ready Green

4. Build Something From Within a Company

“If the entrepreneur route is not a perfect fit for you (yet), try to build from inside a company. Be an “intrapreneur,” so to speak. Perhaps you could start a new branch, product or service. The downside is that you will likely need a high position, soft power, a track record and quite a bit of strategic thinking – but if your thing is good, the company will back you.” ~ Joey Bertschler, bitgrit

5. Pre-Sell Your Product or Service

“Pre-selling your product or service ensures that there truly is a market for what you are offering, and also provides you with the capital to then fund the development of your product. Crowdfunding platforms such as Kickstarter have become quite popular, but it could also be as simple as approaching a couple of prospective clients and getting signed contracts and deposits from them.” ~ Diana Goodwin, MarketBox

6. Seek Out Flexible Funding Options

“Before turning to traditional funding options, it’s important to consider all your options. There are so many sources of flexible funding out there today that can help you successfully launch your business, cover daily costs and support growth. A merchant cash advance, for example, is easy for startups to qualify for and does not add a burden of debt because it is a cash advance and not a loan.” ~ Blair Thomas, eMerchantBroker

7. Trade Your Time and Skills for Resources

“When I started my massage practice, I couldn’t afford to rent a space on my own, so I offered my therapeutic services for free at a physical therapy clinic in exchange for a free treatment room to build up my private practice. When you start a business you sometimes need to get creative, especially if you lack funds.” ~ Rachel Beider, PRESS Modern Massage

8. Share an Office

“When we first got started, we could not afford to pay our team and full rent. We found another small business in the area with an extra two rooms, and we rented them out. It saved us money, it saved them money, and after being in the same space for a few months, we ended up collaborating on some ideas with them.” ~ Zach Binder, Bell + Ivy

9. Launch a Crowdfunding Campaign

“Crowdfunding is generally viewed as a mixed bag, but there’s still plenty of good that’s come from this strategy. If you have a good idea, you’ll be able to connect to people who have similar interests, including your target audience. You can use these funds to get your business started, which could encourage bigger investors to step in to help.” ~ John Turner, SeedProd LLC

10. Partner With Someone

“One of the best ways to start a business without investing your own money is to look at your network. Consider who may be willing to partner with you (for instance, on a strategic alliance or equity allocation) so you can leverage their audience to build your own audience and brand. Just keep in mind, this approach needs to be mutually beneficial.” ~ Kristin Kimberly Marquet, Marquet Media, LLC

11. Consult First, Productize Later

“Whenever possible, build a business around consulting and productize later. All digital tools are designed to save time or optimize processes. Offer this as a service until you generate enough demand to invest in a product that handles that. Then you can slowly transition from a consultancy model to a product company and expand with the economy of scale.” ~ Mario Peshev, DevriX

12. Start Pitching Investors

“If you don’t want to risk your own money or if you don’t have the amount of money that is necessary to get your thing started from the ground, do what most startups do. Pitch your idea to the investors, involve more stakeholders with your project, and if you’re convincing enough, you’ll be able to raise enough funds.” ~ Solomon Thimothy, OneIMS

13. Do the Things You’re Good At

“You can reduce expenses and risk by doing things you’re already good at. Part of the reason why you’d need to invest in your business is to hire people to carry out other activities. Try to streamline your work and solutions so that it’s something you can do on your own, whether it’s coding or writing content. In this way, you’ll minimize your investment size and risk.” ~ Blair Williams, MemberPress

READ MORE ABOUT:

Small Business Loans

Financial Management

This article, “Don’t Want to Risk Your Own Money on Your Business? 13 Alternative Financing Strategies” was first published on Small Business Trends

source https://smallbiztrends.com/2020/07/alternative-financing-for-business.html

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[hoodiedesigninspiration]

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http://myhomedreamshome.blogspot.com/2019/09/dixon-homes-house-builders-australia.html