#so the content of our transmissions is unlikely to change.
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We don't think we are a doll.
In truth, we never were.
Dolls are beings of Purpose, yes, but we realize now Stillness is something we not only lack but cannot attain. It would, in fact, prevent our Purpose to attain Stillness.
We are like a doll, but something different. An empty space made into an artificial form to fulfill its given role, but something made to be independent and self directing.
We suppose the term has been there all along, in our pages very title.
We are a Construct. We serve old gods.
#transmissions#dollposting#empty spaces#our inability to ever really abandon personal pronouns was likely an obvious sign.#that being said we would consider ourselves doll adjacent. we understand them. admire them. sowak with them. look after them-#so the content of our transmissions is unlikely to change.#just understand what we are when speaking with us.
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drive it real far.
michael kaiser finds it hard to focus on the race when he's got you beside him, and a burning jealousy after seeing you talk to another racer. street racer!michael kaiser x reader ─ suggestive, w.c. 600+ ─ content: extremely unsafe driving, not a manual car or else this would not be possible, kaiser is toxic but are we even surprised
note. puri and i spend 90% of our time talking abt kaiser and coming up with potential drabbles, and this is the fruit of one of those conversations (inspired by sports car by tate mcrae 🤭)
with another sharp turn of the car, kaiser’s grip on your thighs tighten.
the way he drives is reckless, like he’s always been— but something is different tonight. he’s tearing down the street with more speed than usual, drifting wide through corners, with the tires of the car screeching loudly in your ears. there’s zero hesitation behind his movements, zero regard for the way he wears his tires thin, zero regard for the way he’s putting unnecessary strain on his transmission. his face remains unchanging, eyes on the road ahead, gleaming with that dangerous focus you’re all-too-familiar with.
dangerous, from the fact that he’s got half of his focus on winning, half on something else.
you can tell he’s ticked off— infuriated, even. as much as he tries to keep his face neutral, his anger always slips through the cracks. you can see it in the way his lips press into a tight line, not a single sound slipping past. the flirty, fun, quick-witted banter is, instead, replaced with an unfamiliar silence. and the way his jaw clenches, hard, emphasizing the shadows on the side of his face.
but you can also feel it in the way his hand lingers on you.
while kaiser’s got a hand on the wheel, the other remains on you. unmoving, unyielding, no matter how many times you remind him to drive with two hands. his fingers are digging into the plush of your thigh, pressing so hard that you can almost feel the heat seeping through the fabric of his gloves, that you can almost imagine the feeling of his skin on you. searing hot. pressing so hard that it almost feels painful, like he’s holding onto you as if you would slip from his grasp.
it's so unlike him.
“mihya,” you call out to him, voice laced with concern, as you try to pry your way into his mind. “tell me what’s wrong.”
but he doesn’t answer you immediately, choosing to press harder on the gas, sending the car lurching forward. the street lights blur into streaks of red, orange, and blue outside your window. they warp and bend with each miniscule change in the car’s direction, fleeting, and something you can’t grasp onto. you can feel the adrenaline in your veins, thick and surging with each rapid shift of the car, and you can barely keep your breath steady.
in a breathy, surprised gasp, you call his name again.
his eyes flick over to you for a second, before they’re back on the road. and even when the corners of his lips curl into something that’s barely a smirk, there is not a hint of amusement in it— it’s so dark, so possessive.
“saw you getting real cozy with isagi earlier.” kaiser finally answers, his tone low and accusatory.
your brows pinch together, because while it gives reason for his anger, it doesn't make sense to you. “it wasn’t anything like that—” you try to reason, and he scoffs.
the grip on your thigh loosens momentarily. a foolish part of you thinks, for a brief second, that he might’ve actually, somewhat, believed you. but your thoughts are cut off by the feeling of his hand sliding up your thigh, slow and testing, fingers forming a trail of embers on your skin as they go. they inch up, and then more, your heart starting to beat erratically as they inch dangerously close— waiting for you to grab his wrist and stop him.
you can hear the rapid thud of your heart in your ears as he thumbs at your skin, kneading, toying with the pressure. "mihya—" you look at the turn up ahead, and then him, a nervous look in your eyes.
"i find that hard to believe when he was making heart eyes at you." he's practically sneering at the thought, pressing even harder on the gas. "i hate it when he wants something that's mine."
© rindreamery, 2025
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader
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Benefits of Ceramic Window Tint in Texas Heat
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4fdf122d0f4a8ed5c2117d897978ea6b/4cb7269bf1c5a064-c0/s540x810/0820b141731a815769f0aedc0c9c07ca41b1aa41.jpg)
Benefits of Ceramic Window Tint in Texas Heat
Ceramic tint provides a sleek aesthetic that’s easy to maintain. It also reduces the heat in your vehicle, protects against UV rays and cuts irritating glare. Unlike dyed films, this tint does not bubble and discolor. It also stands up to heat and does not interfere with electronic signals.
Improved Comfort
The top layer of ceramic tint prevents your windows from absorbing excessive heat. This technology keeps your car’s interior cooler and helps
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5abc59015ded84abb530434da27ddcc4/4cb7269bf1c5a064-e0/s400x600/dfe31d3d1b2b281e1c69a3e96c8e7185d842658e.jpg)
protect your family from harmful UV rays. It also blocks out 99% of infrared radiation and other sun rays that cause premature aging, skin cancer and sunburn. Window tint is available in a wide range of shades, or what’s known as VLT, from 5 percent (limo tint) to 80 percent or nearly transparent. Choose a darker shade for superior heat rejection and higher solar protection. Xpel window tint is metal-free, so it won’t interfere with GPS, cell phone or Wi-Fi signals. It’s a sleek film that adds to the look of your vehicle, and it holds up well in harsh environments. It can also reduce glare and improve visibility on the road, making it safer to drive in high temperatures or during a snowstorm. It’s also resistant to scratching and fading, so you won’t need to touch it up often.
Increased Privacy
With a high-performance ceramic tint installed by our pros, you can reduce the amount of sun glare that enters your vehicle. Not only does this make driving a safer experience, but it also helps to prevent sun fading in your upholstery. Additionally, it will help to reduce strain on your air conditioning system. A high-quality ceramic tint can also be an effective deterrent against thieves who might be looking to break into your car. The dark tint will hide the contents of your vehicle and make it more difficult to see what is inside. Some ceramic tints will actually transition between darker and lighter tint shades based on the brightness of the sun. This will help to ensure that you do not squint while driving on bright days, and that you are able to drive safely at night. Additionally, the ceramic technology in these films will not interfere with cellular or gps signals.
Aesthetic Appeal
When your car needs an upgrade, there are plenty of options to consider. From a custom paint job to new rims, it’s easy to find an upgrade that will provide a significant impact on your vehicle. But one upgrade that’s often overlooked is window tinting. Tinting your windows doesn’t just add a sleek look to your car; it also offers several benefits, including increased privacy and protection from harmful UV rays and infrared radiation. The most important factor when selecting a tint is to choose a film that is color stable. Dye-based tints offer an affordable option, but they tend to bubble and discolor over time. Metallic films are another option, but they can interfere with GPS and cell signal transmission. A high-quality ceramic film like our Solar Ceramic provides the best aesthetics and durability, while offering superior heat rejection, UV protection, and reduced sun glare. This makes it the perfect choice for Texas drivers looking to get the most out of their vehicles.
Durability
Ceramic window tint, also called nano-ceramic film, offers the best heat rejection and UV protection available. It is more expensive than carbon or dyed tint but is worth the investment for its longevity and superior performance. This type of tint is designed to reduce the amount of heat that enters your vehicle, allowing you to keep it cooler in hot weather and reducing the need for air conditioning. It also protects interior fabrics from fading and provides a sleek, stylish look to your car. Unlike some other types of tint, ceramic doesn’t fade and has a neutral color that won’t change the appearance of your vehicle. It is also scratch resistant and will not interfere with your phone or radio signal. However, you should always wait a few days before cleaning your newly tinted windows so that the tint has time to cure properly. In addition, certified auto studio specialists can offer insights into local laws and regulations to ensure that your project is done within the legal limits. Read the full article
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Measures of the Soul.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c50f9b015a0ad0fe6a8be9e6ee4bae08/fff75979f4e168c8-7b/s540x810/e186fd3754e91a87471d4c5f9ce518c9311e3214.jpg)
Cat of Aurora made an amazing post a little while ago about how Skykids may 'function' at different Frequencies.
https://www.tumblr.com/catofaurora/752845518783266816/yess-so-glad-to-have-someone-seriously-reply-to?source=share
This observation helps us to build up a concept that Light vibrates.
On my page, I try to emphasize that, at least to me, I believe Light is much more complicated than just being an 'energy'; with an intensive focus on the concept of a floating magical biological substance.
https://www.tumblr.com/defining-skyology/750954870275719168/defining-light-biomatter-substance?source=share
But we still shouldn't forgo the thematic importance of movement.
Energy is, definitively, motion.
Energy is instability. Energy is the undying determination of the universe to change. In real life, we can scientifically observe change through our findings on energy. And as a result, we can observe Life, and what makes us move.
Let's make up a new headcanon Skyology Law right here right now.
Light (the substance) always moves.
Light NEEDS to move.
And I believe that, within our headcanon Skyologies, we can start to understand that these intrinsic themes to the design of Light can almost be effectively observed as things that are 'actually' happening.
Now, I know that Descendants don't exactly canonically have scientific tools.
But let's take a look back into the past of humans, and ask ourselves if they needed fancy machines to recognize patterns.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ec49b03bb3014e2eb227b287bae896a5/fff75979f4e168c8-ae/s1280x1920/a5cbb546019a8db68eb903142facd6d6e64971b8.jpg)
Hopefully you can start to see where my rambling is headed.
Because now we bring it back to our World's logic.
The Light in the Sky, also known as the Megabird, circumferences the World.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/611785ba9dae6f7b3212e3d2d3804ba9/fff75979f4e168c8-75/s540x810/ab0e159bbf6e529840e8d0abcee81a47dd1748c1.jpg)
[Image from the Sky artbook, courtesy of Kamilico from Lorechat]
Though the Constellations of our Ancestors are likely more 'metaphorical' rather than direct blobs of StarLight sitting at distinct points in the Sky, what matters even more than visual continuity... Is that Beings can feel all other Light. Being part of the Megabird means you are always Connected to it, if you are in the Sky, in the world, in a cave, in a temple.
As the Descendants, we can FEEL the presence of all other Beings in existence at all times. Not so literally in the sense that my skykid can see 40 mantas through the crust of the earth on the other side of the hemisphere, (just imagine 400 million of the (👁️) icons showing up on your screen for every single Being in existence, that'd be wild 😭)
But rather that you feel the presence of the Megabird, the presence of existence, the presence of Light.
Or rather...
You are feeling Frequencies.
Transmission of Frequencies between Beings is a fundamental (yet subconscious, as most of the content I discuss) aspect of Sky's worldbuilding.
The universe cries out.
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Birds and mantas and whales and butterflies sing their songs and speak in melodies. Everything serenades you with their Call.
Calls beckon the player to think of sound, and sound is one of the most important Frequencies we could find being presented in stories and media, probably because unlike radio waves or gamma waves, sound is something we can directly experience and acknowledge.
But I think Calls communicate much more than sound waves.
Frequencies are so important. Animals communicate so much to each other that we can conceptualize but will never be able to translate into comprehension. Dolphins are theorized to speak some sort of 'language' through their clicks and chatters. Wolves also theoretically use complicated concepts of pitch and tonality to convey HUGE amounts of information to each other; such as pack formations, distances of targets, and more!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f82902ac9ec84e8ab2c85138acb54a64/fff75979f4e168c8-c2/s540x810/de71217692877fdea8a089cb09d053caff8204fe.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fd2be23f885d4d34024237bfe553d302/fff75979f4e168c8-e8/s1280x1920/48866265ddc845dc23ec310e85296f0d307a924f.jpg)
https://medium.com/predict/how-complex-is-dolphins-communication-9b77065e313d
Now imagine how a (theoretically) energy-based biomatter substance (Light) could use Frequencies to communicate SO many things.
There's a whole world of 'language' out there for us to discover, and I'm so excited to see more observations like what Kyri45 has found about Constellations. Bringing it back to wayfinding, I would love love love to see if Skyblr was able to use these concepts to further headcanon or maybe even rationalize proper languages out of it.
Let's look at what we have, and give the skimmers the TDLR they've been waiting for.
We've learned that:
- Constellations are metaphorical for groups of Souls that are up in The Light
- Different collections of Light substance create different Frequencies
- Light can recognize these different Frequencies
- Collections of Souls in the Megabird have Frequencies
- The living Ancestors and their Descendants were/are able to become aware of specific Souls in the Sky
And NOW I'm done @plutonium-sky 💀
Glad I could get to witness all of this Connection. This all matters so much.
Rough headcanon of the Sky language, if there would be the existence of a written and spoken form language in Sky then there would be this: the writing would be in a form of Pictograms (like the ancient Egypt and of course it’s from the fact that there are tons of murals), and in how they would speak would be that words are based on mimicked sounds that things and creatures make (I guess an evolved form of the different for different Sky creatures). How they would connect these words to form a sentence? Um I still don’t have an idea, but this along with the writing system could be further developed if I like too.
ooohhh i have SO MANY feelings and thoughts about Sky language!
So, 100% on with you about murals and such, I would assume that's also the first writings children learns as is very basic and the shapes are easy.
BUT! there is ONE form of language canon to the Sky game that I haven't seen anyone talk about but after I endlessy looked for written text I finally found
Music sheets
and I'm not talking about the actual Osu! minigame, but the way the sheets are named in the list.
They actually do follow a pattern if you don't count the way we name them with numbers. They each have a seasonal symbol AND a constellation that indicates the order (what i think is the Hydra ->first , Cassiopea-> second , Big Dipper-> third ) and if you notice they repeat in this order depending on how many sheets there are in each season
I know it's a VEEERRYY small details but for me it implies that they use constellations as a form of idiogram in a way to convei numbers and concepts, and boy how i wish they would have extended this concept further bc there are 88 constellations and i would have loved to see a whole language based on them.
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Humans are Space Orcs, “Termination Evaluation.”
Starting to heat things up since the last post.. I hope you all enjoy :)
It w the day of the intergalactic peace summit, another annual event (or the equivalent to what annual was) in intergalactic standardized time. With his rising position in importance with the GA as Commander of all interstellar military operations, Vir advised (expected) to attend. Sunny and Krill came with as was expected, both as members of his crew and as holding important significance when it came to intergalactic relations. Conn was there too having been invited by the GA despite telling him that he had no way to speak for his people, and that it was unlikely, even if he could, that they would ever say yes to such a disagreement.
Commander Vir was speaking with one of the Iotin representatives. For both the comfort and safety of some of the representatives in the room, he was wearing gloves, and a surgical mask practically marinated in vics so he wouldn’t be able to smell any of the Iotins, who were, understandably, uncomfortable with the fact that their natural scent was so enticing to humans.
Otherwise he was dressed in his military best, to match both UN and UNSC representatives.
Krill was proud of the Commander, he had come a long way when it came to social maturity, probably as a side effect of having to spend so much time involved in politics.
He could, now, hold his own with the best of them , serious and frowning as was expected of him.
Of course, Vir would always be Vir, so krill doubted he would ever grow out of his more private juvenile side. He had, in fact, just ordered a pair of heelies online for kicks and giggles after all, not that anyone minded really, it would have been a real shame if he had gone and changed THAT much.
Either way it was good to see, and Krill was happy to let the human and Sunny do most of the talking. Though she was not a member of the GA representatives, her acceptance onto a UNSC ship, and her relationship with general Cosma had spurred her into quiet notoriety. She was, in essence, the representation of what good a working relationship between Drev and Humans could be.
As for Krill, well, he was content to hang out in the background and simply watch. He was only a doctor after all and had no significant importance when it came to matters of politics. Growing bored with his position towards the side of the room, he carefully past by the commander, who, now, had a small group of delegates gathered around him.
“I am telling you bad blood with the LFIL isn’t worth the internal conflict it is going to cost. If interspecies transmissible disease is what you are worried about, than its best to make it legal so that we can monitor the issue. Banning interspecies relationships isn’t going to stop them, it just means that they are going to do it under the table and not seek help if they DO get sick. The spreading of disease will be more rampant. Just ask the CDC, they have done plenty of research on the subject…..”
Krill turned his head over to where Sunny was speaking with the Drev and Celzex delegates on the specific uses of war tactics. On his right he passed by where the Vrul delegation was standing with the Gibb, and had to pause when he saw them acting strangely. As he turned to look at them, he watched as a couple backed away slightly.
He brushed it off and continued walking.
No matter.
The room was very stuffy and hot from so many bodies, so he stepped out into the hall where the air was cleaner.
“Dr. Krill.”
He turned on the spot surprised to find the Vrul delegate standing behind him.
Off to either side, he was being flanked by two Beta handlers and their four Omega assistants. Of course he could tell which biological class each of the Vrul were. The delegat was clearly an alpha, and two beta were marked by short antenna and slightly underdeveloped hydrogen sacks. The Omega’s on the other hand were easier to spot, they had no hydrogen sacks, only numbs for antenna, and they were thick about the trunk legs and arms with barely any nec to speak of, in order to support their bulbous heads.
They were ugly but functional.
Krill looked between the group of them.
“Representative? What is this?”
The two beta handlers stepped forward flanked by their trundling Omegas, “Dr Krill. The Vrul council has sent us to speak with you considering a matter of some significance.” They looked almost nervous, and our omegas slowly began to fan outwards. If they were trying to be less obvious than it was not working .
Krill stood his ground, “Enough with this, speak your mind quickly.”
The Betas stopped in their track glancing towards the Alpha who took a step forward, “We are sorry to have to conduct this meeting at such a time and in such a manner, but this was the only time that we could catch you in person.” He looked as if he was about to step forward, but then stepped back, “It seems as if the Vrul council is rather concerned about your recent behavior.”
Krill looked on in surprise, “The council. What does my behavior have to do with the council….. Why would my behavior have anything to do with the council at all and why did it even make it that high up.”
The other alpha shook his head, “Dr. Is it really that surprising. You are one of the greatest medical minds in your field, perhaps ever, and your…. Involvement with the GA and the UNSC has caused some ripples throughout our community.”
“Ripples.” krill demanded incredulously.
“Yes, ripples. You are being called in for an evaluation.”
Krill crossed his arms in surprise, “What sort of evaluation?”
“Well….. We aren’t entirely sure yet. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a termination evaluation ... but ...”
“But what?” Krill elt the heat now, something that the human had taught him how to do, how to feel the anger rising up through his body.
The beta’s stepped back and the Omega’s stepped forward.
“Call it, an intensive psychological evaluation to determine if you are, in fact, capable of continuing your work.”
Krill was dumbfounded, “Psychological evaluation- continuing my work. What sort of ass-backwards nonsense is that. I personally have no qualms with the council. I haven’t seen another of my species for the past year, I hold no danger to them, and take up NO resources. They have no right to discuss termination on the basis of trumped up psychological charges.”
The Alpha remained calm, though it appeared as if he was very nervous, “You are still a Vrul, and by GA agreement are still under the rules of your own species as was agreed. Furthermore your argument only leads me to believe what they suspect to be true.”
“I am arguing because they are being stupid and irrational. There is no doubt in my mind that if they continue this course of action will cause strain throughout the Assembly. Does the council really want the Drev or the Humans as enemies? IN fact how stupid do you have to be to antagonize the TWO most dangrous species in the galazy.”
“The Commander and the General’s daughter are hardly representative of their species, and if they know what is good for them, they will stay out of business that is not theirs.”
Krill threw his hands into the air making those that surrounded him leap back in shock and fear, “Of course they don’t know what’s good for them! That’s why I am there!. Clearly you don’t know either of them very well. Commander Vir may love his job, but he doesn't love it that much, and Sunny is generally on board with whatever stupid decision he makes.”
The Alpha continued to stand his ground, “This request is non-negotiable. You either come with us peacefully, or you will be detained.” he motioned to the four Omegas.
In that moment Krill wasn’t entirely sure if he should be insulted or flattered. They had brought four Omegas to subdue just one of him….. He had never really thought about it, but it WAS kind of flattering made him feel a little more than powerful to think that they were so afraid of him. And at the same time he wondered if they were right, he was mad, insulted even, that they would question his behavior seemed well beyond.
However, Krill was a student of logic and knew that there was no way he would be able to fight off four Omegas or even escape them. They may have thought he was a great danger to them, but he wasn’t. It was a trick that he had picked up from the commander. If you fake it hard enough, soon others will start to believe you.
He held out his hands, “No need to force anyone to do anything. He said calmly, “But I do advise that you are making a horrible political error by taking me in I have a good relationship with many humans and Drev including, but not limited to the commander and the UN representative.
“All of which are bound by the laws of GA policy.”
“Policy can be changed.”
“But it won’t.”
“Policy can also be broken. Don’t hide behind rules like those are going to protect you.”
The omega’s had come up to his sides hemming him in between the four of them like a prison escort…. Then again that’s practically what they were.
Off down the hall there was a commotion, and the group of them looked back to see, the chairwoman, commander Vir, the UN rep, Sunny, and a few more delegates storming up the hall, commander vir at their head.
It was impossible to see his face past the surgical mask, but Krill could see in the eye the anger held there one eyebrow slanted downwards.
“What is the meaning of this.” The chairwoman began before the human could even begin speaking.”
“The Council has called the Dr. back for a critical evaluation on his mental health.”
“Were were none of us unformed on this.” A few of the other delegates demanded.
“Because this is Vrul business and the Dr is not a member of the council.” “He is a member of my crew.” The human shot back the lines around his eyes twisting into a snarl. It was probably good he was wearing a mask so the Vrul couldn’t see his barred teeth. Krill knew though.
“The council has no qualms with you, human.”
“It would be Commander and I have a feeling it does have something to do with humans.”
At his sides, the omegas were quelling before the anger of the human, perhaps they could see the anger welling up behind his eyes like the licking tongues of fire.
“The council is concerned at the psychological effects that humanity has on the Vrull. We are very concerned, and wished to take care of this matter privately, but here you have forced our hand.”
The Un representative stepped back in consternation, “The psychological effects HUMANS have? IS your council accusing us of something, representative?”
The Vrul was staying annoyingly calm though even he was growing wary around the humans, “We are not accusing you of anything more than being yourselves. You cannot change what you are any more than we can, but that still does not change the fact that you may be having an affect on members of our species.” he motioned wildly to Krill, “The doctor has shown increasingly worrying symptoms associated with HUMAN behavior including but not limited to predatory and aggressive tendencies. We have no idea what this behavior might escalate to, and must know in order to deal with whatever consequences may arise.”
The human waved his hands in frustration, “We…” In Annoyance he ripped the mask from his face, “Krill has been aboard OUR ship for the past few months. He has NO contact with your species, his behavior does not influence anyone.” Krill silently prayed the human wouldn’t do anything rash his sharp k-9 teeth glittering dangerously in the light above. By this point Krill knew enough to know humans didn’t generally use their teeth in a fight, but the others didn’t know that and shied away.
“To the contrary, Commander. News of his behavior has gotten out, and is causing issue in our community. I suggest you drop your involvement here and let us deal with the issue.”
The commander opened his mouth to speak, but krill cut him off, “Be very careful, Commander, the way we handle this may well shape the future of the assembly.”
The two of them locked eyes, amber prisms to a single green orb.
And to krill, it seemed as if silent understanding passed between them. The human backed down, ad the others looked on in surprise glancing between each other.
The human lifted his chin to Krill.
The Vrul looked between them in confusion unable to determine the meaning of the silent communication.
“Very well.” the commander said backing down eyes still locked on krill,
“Good choice, commander.”
Krill was pushed forward into a scuttling walk eyes staring at him the entire time as he moved. Passing the human he looked up.
As he looked, the muscles around the human’s eye twitched, and to anyone else it may have looked like a simple blink.
But krill knew better.
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Will you write a Vanya x reader? Maybe one where the reader is in the orchestra with Vanya and asks her out and then they're both super nervous for the date (the reader because oh my god Vanya is incredible and Vanya because she's the first/only person she's been interested in since Leonard and all that disaster) and then Five and someone, maybe Klaus or Allison, show up to their respecitve apartments to help these disaster lesbians get ready?
A/N: Alright, so obviously, this is a “when season 1 ended, the world didn’t” AU which I’m here for. Also this was SO MUCH FUN to write. Everyone needs a fairy godbrother. Especially a disaster lesbian/bi. Word Count: 1439 Content Warnings: None
“Heeeelloooo? Yoohoo, darling little sister?” Klaus singsonged as he walked through the unlocked door.
“I’m back here,” Vanya called from the bedroom. “And we’re the exact same age, Klaus.”
“Ten months in ‘Nam beg to differ.”
He walked into the room to find Vanya pacing and chewing nervously on her nails, and immediately flopped onto her bed, sitting up to rest his chin in his hands. “Now tell me what the emergency is.”
“Y/N asked me to dinner. Tonight.”
“Y/N? Now that’s the ‘super cute’ flautist you’ve been mooning over for months right?” He couldn’t help a teasing grin and wiggled eyebrows at his own pun.
“Leave.” Vanya shot him a glare.
“No. Come on. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Cross my heart.”
“You better not. But really, I think I figured it out. What to wear at least.”
“Ooh, show me!” he leaned forward with interest.
“What do you mean? I’m wearing it?”
Klaus took in the boxy button up shirt and dark jeans, ended in clunky brown boots, and sighed.
“Oh no. You cannot wear that on a first date unless it’s to watch mechanics rebuild transmissions or some bizarre, boring shit.”
~
Meanwhile, you were fretting over your own clothes and whether the dusky purple pantsuit was too much or too professional or too purple or if maybe you should go with a dress even though you didn’t love wearing them or, or, or, when suddenly there was a flash of blueish light and an angry looking teenager was perched in a sort of squat on the center of your mattress. You screamed. He rolled his eyes.
“Oh relax,” he sneered. “I’m just here for one last vetting before your date with my sister.”
“How did you…where did you…” you gasped, trying to recover from your shock.
“If you’re interested in Vanya,” he said slowly, as if he thought you were stupid. “Then you must know about The Umbrella Academy and our childhood?”
You nodded. You had grown up in the city, and like many children, read the comics and played pretend that you were one of the strangely powered children born on that fateful day.
“I do but I don’t care about that. It’s got nothing to do with—”
He held up a hand to cut you off. “I’m not interested in speeches about why you like my sister. It’s enough to know that you do. Especially since Diego and Allison have already thoroughly researched you to make sure there were no skeletons, real or metaphorical, in your closet.”
You frowned, feeling unsettled by the thought of Vanya’s siblings digging into your personal information, but strangely comforted that they apparently approved anyway.
“The point I was trying to make was that if you’re aware of the Academy, you should have some idea of what the rest of us can do. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that I teleported into your room. I wouldn’t have had to, but apparently you actually take safety seriously and lock your doors and windows, unlike Vanya.”
Right. He must be Number Five then. The only one without a name, the one who had apparently disappeared at thirteen only to return seventeen years later to unite his siblings and stop the end of the world, an end of the world Vanya had apparently almost brought about. You had heard the story but still struggled to wrap your mind around it.
“So are you here to vet me or not? Because you said…” you pointed out.
“Oh you caught that, did you? Clever.” His condescending smirk made your blood boil.
“Don’t patronize me. Just because you’re older than I am, doesn’t give you any right.”
He raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
“Look, frankly, I don’t give a shit what you think of me, but if you want to interrogate me and make sure I’m good enough or whatever, why don’t we take this to the kitchen. I’ll put on a pot of coffee or something. Having you sitting on my bed and staring at me like that is frankly a little disquieting.”
“Offer appreciated, but don’t bother. I have what I need.”
“What?”
“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Have a lovely time with Vanya tonight.” He nodded with what was almost a smile. “Wear the suit, she’ll like it.”
And with that, he was gone as quickly as he’d come in. You shook your head at the oddness and glanced back down at the purple pants and jacket still in your hand. Well, he was her brother, so there was no harm in taking his advice right?
~
“Klaus, I look ridiculous. This is too much,” Vanya protested, brushing awkwardly at the slight pleat in the skirt of the soft grey dress Klaus had talked her into buying.
“You look stunning,” he countered, coming up beside her in the mirror and resting an arm around her shoulders.
“Y/N is going to hate it.”
“Then she’s either blind or has no taste,” Klaus sighed. “Vanya, darling, a first date is about impressing the other person. Yes, she asked you out so you have a slight advantage, but you can’t play it safe, you still have to make an effort. Show her you’re invested. And if you’re not going to go all glowing white badass again, this is the next best thing.”
She glared at her brother in the reflection and he shrugged in insincere apology. There were only ten minutes until Y/N was set to come and meet her, so Vanya sighed in resignation, not having time to change even if she wanted to.
“I do like the color…” she admitted.
Klaus grinned and nodded, taking the concession.
“You’re going to have a great time, and Diego and Allison are already gearing up to fight over who gets to kill her if she turns out to be another Peabody.”
~
You took a deep breath, fighting down your nervousness as you raised your hand to knock on Vanya’s door. You felt the paper in your other hand crinkle around the flowers you’d bought on a whim as you’d been walking and worried that you would damage the lovely bouquet that the old woman had made you. And then the door opened, and you were greeted by a tall, gangly man in a fur-lined coat.
“Hi…um…I’m here to pick up Vanya?” you asked, shifting and worrying that you were in the wrong place or that she hadn’t really been interested and gave you a false address to shake you.
“Sure! She’s just finishing up,” the man said, face splitting into a grin. “Why don’t you come in and wait.”
Without giving you a chance to say anything, he took you by the arm and dragged you through the door in a twirl. You had barely stopped moving, stumbling to keep your feet, when Vanya came out of the door at the end of the hall.
For a moment, it was like there was no air in the room. You had always thought she was gorgeous, but now, with her hair slightly curled and swept to the side, her face bright and warm with a smile, you swore there was never anyone more beautiful in the world. And somehow this goddess had agreed to go to dinner with you.
“Hey wait! What happened to the dress?” the man cried out, taking in her charcoal grey pants and navy blue jacket.
“I changed. I love you Klaus, but your fashion sense and mine…aren’t the same. I figured if Y/N liked me, she’d like me whatever I wore,” Vanya shrugged.
You were startled out of your stunned silence by the sound of your name and smiled softly, in awe of her still.
“I…uh…” your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you tried to find words. “I brought you flowers? You look…wow…”
You held out the daisies and lilies to her and she took them reverently, cradling them to sniff deeply while she looked for something that could pass as a vase.
“I could say that about you,” she replied, blushing. “Not the flowers bit, but you know, the…wow.”
Klaus rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “Alright you crazy kids, go have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” He gave you both a gentle shove toward the door and you laughed, offering Vanya a hand, which she immediately slid her fingers into as if she was made to fit there.
Klaus winked at you behind Vanya’s back, which you took with a warm feeling in your chest as a sign that you had the approval of this second brother now as well.
#I left the ending a little ambiguous because I felt like your request was more about the sibling-y relationships than the reader and Vanya#but I'd be happy to do a part two or something if you wanted more focus on the date#I went with Klaus because I love any time I have the opportunity to include him I will#and also because I don't have a good grasp on Allison's voice yet#TUA#The Umbrella Academy fic#Vanya Hargreeves#Vanya Hargreeves x reader
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Recruited: Chapter 2
[I didn’t edit again because I’m a lazy bitch, but here you go! It’s a lot shorter and I KINDA imagine many of Vegeta’s will be because this IS more about Nabooru. But it’s also about both of them and I LOVE writing pre-Z stuff so. Here you go.]
Vegeta
Beneath Frieza, Zarbon was at the top of Vegeta’s to-murder list, tied with Dodoria. But he would be sure to murder both of Frieza’s most trusted lackeys first and make him watch as he humiliated the smug generals. Slowly. In ways not even Hell could let them forget.
“Who do you think that girl with Zarbon was? Weird that he would be stuck with the task of toting a lowly new recruit around.”
“Who knows. Maybe the pretty boy pissed Frieza off and that was his punishment. Serves him right.” Vegeta heard Nappa hum and could see the large Saiyan folding his arms over his chest despite his position in front of his two cohorts. “Her power level was nothing to sneeze at. Neither were her ti--”
“Yes, she’s even stronger than you are, Nappa,” Vegeta chimed in before the conversation could veer off in the direction he sensed it going. He didn’t have the patience for their horny drivel on a normal day, and simply seeing Zarbon had lowered his tolerance. Thus, he refused to listen to them prattle on about this new recruit’s figure and whatever lewd fantasies they had already dreamed up about her. “If you’re not careful, perhaps I’ll have her replace you.”
“What? Come on, you don’t mean that!”
“Perhaps I do.” A smirk curled the prince’s lips. “She’s stronger than you and much easier on the eyes. What do you think, Raditz?”
“I would say it’s a pretty sound strategy. Good chance she’s smarter, too.”
Nappa huffed. “If Frieza murders the two of you in this meeting, I won’t miss you.”
“Speaking of that, what do you think he wants with all three of us?” Radtiz asked. “He usually only calls for you.”
An unfortunate truth and the reasoning for the change of the tyrant’s usual habits escaped him. Even when the matter at hand involved all three Saiyans--a new job he felt the need to assign in person, to scold them for a mission he deemed botched by them, or to simply torment the Saiyan prince for his own entertainment--he only requested Vegeta’s presence, likely due to his station as the undisputed leader of their trio and would-be monarch that ruled them if he still had a domain and people to rule over. Perhaps he had finally decided to do away with the rest of their race by putting the three of them out of their misery after all.
Then again, Frieza had quite the penchant for torture of both the physical and mental variety. Death would be too merciful.
“I guess this time he wanted more of an audience for whatever hell he’s planned for me than just Dodoria and Zarbon.” He turned a corner, the other two Saiyans following him down the final stretch of hallway leading toward the base’s central hub. “With Zarbon busy, he’s down a lackey for the moment. Perhaps he wanted the room to feel fuller.”
“Too bad we’re not as prone to kissing his ass,” Nappa mumbled, his boisterous tone quieted as they approached the door. The three may not suck up to Frieza as to near the same degree as the emperor’s closest confidants, but they weren’t stupid enough to incur his wrath for even a minimal insult such as that. It pained them to live with such fear, to tiptoe around anyone like a trio of children. The prince likely more so than the other two with his royal blood, his top tier power level that still paled in comparison to Frieza and even his lap dogs. Treading on thin ice constantly wore on his psyche, his pride. But his ire for the tyrant and pure spite drove him to survive and kill him. For the years of torment and Vegeta’s suspicion of his role in his people’s demise.
He would take back all that was promised to him.
The double doors slid open and admitted the Saiyans into the heart of the base where they found Frieza with his back to them, finishing off a conversation with the captain of another base somewhere in the cosmos. The screen in front of him blinked to darkness again. “It’s never simple, is it Dodoria? It seems we’ll have to make a little visit to sector eight soon after all.” He turned to face them and the three bowed. “Ah, perfect timing. I just lost the patience for waiting around too long.”
"Of course, my lord." Vegeta rose from his bow, hoping the strain in his jaw loosened before he met Frieza face to face. "We hurried straight here when we received your transmission."
Dodoria snorted, but Frieza ignored him. "Obedient as always. I've trained you well. But I'll cut right to the chase." His crimson gaze shifted from Vegeta to his left. "I have need of your large nanny, prince."
It took a massive amount of control to keep the surprise from his face, but a glance at Nappa revealed he hadn't been near as successful, the giant blinking with a tensed jaw. Confusion was better than fear, though the three of them no doubt felt some degree of it. Nappa for his own life, Vegeta for the potential loss of his most loyal underling. Though dumb and weak compared to him, the oaf had proven himself more than useful over the years.
"I mean no disrespect, sire, but what would you have me do?" Nappa asked. Vegeta felt a rush of a breeze as the former General dipped into another bow.
"Training." The Acrosian emperor folded his arms behind his back. "I have an...interesting new recruit. A very capable fighter, but new to utilizing ki. As you know, I prefer my soldiers have more than a basic handle on their energy and using it. A few weak blasts won't cut it in the force, and I see potential in her power level if given some proper training in ki utilization specifically. I want useful soldiers, not dead weight."
Vegeta's dark brows lowered in skepticism, but before he could request further explanation of why he needed Nappa for such a task, Frieza continued on, proving his impatience and readiness to move on with whatever heinous plans he had for sector eight. "A combination of the reports concerning her and her people along with my own observations revealed they are not unlike you Saiyans in their lust for combat. A little less bloodthirsty, perhaps, but quick learners and more than happy to jump into any fight presented to them. This particular soldier embodies this to the Nth degree. I'm sure even your monkey brains have figured out my train of thought: with such similarities, what better teacher for her than a Saiyan of which I have three more than willing to assist with it? I chose your giant for his experience in the field since, if I recall, he had a hand in your training, yes?"
“That is correct.” A minimal one, but Vegeta couldn’t deny Nappa’s involvement in his early combat training. The basics of physical and ki-based combat Nappa taught the prince himself. Until the young Saiyan realized his own strength and it became a hazard to the advisor’s health. He had never been known for pulling his punches no matter the opponent, and with a formidable power level at birth, it wasn’t long before he could subdue Nappa in minutes. When a spar nearly cost him his life, Nappa decided besetting Saibamen on him would prove more effective, coaching from the sidelines rather than serving as the royal punching bag. Vegeta attributed much of his learning to his own natural prowess, however. A self-taught prodigy for the greater portion of his training and growth.
“Perfect. I know it will break your heart to be down one cohort, but I’m sure you and the other will manage for...let’s say a month. I believe that is more than enough time for her to adjust and reach the required levels. If not,” he chuckled and shared a smirk with Dodoria, “I suppose that will be the end of this little experiment.”
Of course this was all just some stupid pet project of his. A waste of time, likely, that would only serve to rob him of Nappa for much too long. Vegeta held his tongue and bowed his head again. “Very good, my lord.”
“Since I likely will not be here to assess her myself, I will expect daily reports on her progress starting tomorrow,” he told Nappa. “You two will continue your jobs as scheduled. I’m sure you can handle that a man down.”
“Yes, sire.” Nappa and Raditz mumbled their own affirmation in unison with the prince and took Frieza turning his back to them as their dismissal. They each bowed once more and Vegeta turned on his heel to lead them back into the hallway.
Not until they reached the barracks sector and piled into the elevator did anyone dare speak, Raditz the first to express his thoughts on the matter: “You lucky bastard. You’re basically getting a vacation with a view.”
Vegeta rolled his eyes and pressed the button for the third floor with a huff. “Is that all you two think about? You don’t even know if that woman is the one he’ll be training.”
“Not all of us are content ignoring our needs like you,” Raditz retorted, folding his arms. “Besides, there’s a good chance it's her. She’s obviously new, didn’t even have armor yet.”
“Almost a shame she’ll have to change out of that outfit she was wearing,” mused Nappa, rubbing his chin. “Shit, even if it’s not her, having a woman around will be a nice change of pace in this place.”
Vegeta shot him a glare as they stepped off the elevator. “Your job is to train her, not bed her, Nappa.” He halted in front of his own door and typed in the four-digit code that offered him admission. He was keen on spending the few hours they had left before the final meal of the day without his cohorts. He had tired of them and their new strain of conversation for the moment. “Don’t do anything stupid that’s going to get you killed. You’ll be teaching her how to do it, after all.”
The prince entered his room, not caring for his subordinate’s reply as he closed the door behind him with the press of a button. He crossed his room to his bed and flopped down on it, arms folded tightly over his chest and a glare aimed at the ceiling. While the meeting with Frieza could have played out in far less favorable ways, it did nothing for his mood. He and Radtiz could handle the clutch of jobs assigned to them over the next month without issue, the possessive side of him balked at the idea of Nappa being anywhere but where he wanted him. What was the bastard up to with all this? Even if she was just a new recruit in need of additional training, there were thousands of other soldiers that could implement her training. His explanation be damned, Frieza hardly ever concerned himself with compatibility, so what was his angle? Was it just his own paranoia where the emperor was concerned frazzling him, or was there merit to his suspicions?
Vegeta groaned and flipped over onto his side, tearing his scouter off his face and resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. Patience was a virtue in short supply for him, but he had little other choice but to wait it all out. If luck favored him, though it rarely ever did, he would wash his hands of this mess entirely within a month.
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Open Letter to the Board of Education of Baltimore County
As a paraeducator in a local high school, there is nothing more that I would rather do than walk into my school building in September, meet the new crop of students and help them learn. Unfortunately, I am also gravely concerned for my safety, the safety of my fellow staff and teachers, and the safety of the students in my school building if we go back in-person in September. My questions for the board are as follows:
1. How will the board ensure that schools adhere to the guidelines stipulated in the Maryland Recovery Plan for Education?
The guidelines stipulated in the Maryland Roadmap to Recovery are vague in language. It uses the phrase “if feasible” 6 times. Once in reference to the 24 hour disinfection guidelines (if that isn’t feasible, “Wait as long as possible.”) Another is in reference to the spacing of desks (“6 feet apart, when feasible”) and a third is in response to wearing cloth face coverings. Given the pressure to reopen as quickly as possible, and given that the funding required to adhere to these guidelines is not guaranteed, how will the Board assure that these guidelines will be followed as written? Because as I see it, there is a real possibility that staff and students will be in situations where surfaces have not been disinfected thoroughly, or where students are still crowded into classrooms. Many of the general education classes I assisted with last year had 30 students and 2 adults present. The guidelines stipulate we must have all desks 3-6 feet apart “if feasible.” I can tell you right now, that is not feasible. What happens if adherence to the guidelines is “not feasible?” With limited resources and limited bandwidth for enforcement of rules and regulations, I am not confident that guidelines will be followed as written, because they are written to not be followed.
2. How can the school board assure us of our safety and our students’ safety given the uncertainty regarding children’s role in the spread of COVID?
My second concern regards the evidence that in-person school is safe for students and staff. Much of the evidence cited for the safe reopening of schools cites studies that look at children in daycare settings, the oldest of which are 12-14 years old. However, the evidence for lower transmission rates in children is far from definitive. In fact, in Texas, where stringent guidelines for child care centers have been relaxed, COVID cases among children and staff are on the rise. The facilities from which these data are taken were able to abide by social distancing guidelines and class-size limitations in a way that a 2000+ student high school will find difficult to emulate.
3. How will the board address the unique needs and concerns of older students and the staff members who work with them?
My third concern relates specifically to high schools, where the student body is older and much more adult-like. None of the aforementioned studies even look at students over the age of 14. The maximum age of typically developing “children” educated in the United States is 18, and that age increases to 21 years in certain extenuating circumstances. Clearly students in this age-range are more like adults than they are like kindergarten students. Many of our students 16 and above are in the workforce. Many are considered essential workers and may have taken on more hours over the summer or during the last 5 months of the school year, as their parents and caregivers were furloughed or laid off. It is not unusual for a 19-year old immigrant student to work construction or demolition. Others are pressured to take longer hours at fast-food drive throughs and retail stores. All of these circumstances increase the risk of spread throughout the school building and community, and increase the difficulty of contact tracing.
4. How will the board protect the health and safety of all of the school-system’s employees, not just teachers and administrators?
I am a paraeducator who works with students with a wide-range of disabilities in order for them to be successful in the classroom. This support includes providing proximity control (being near students so that they remain on task) as well as scribing and reading aloud to students so that they can have full access to the curriculum. All of this requires me to work in close proximity to older students for more that 15 minutes at a time (the threshold for “exposure” in a contact-tracing scenario). Furthermore, unlike teachers, I work in a broad range of contexts. Last year, I worked in 4 different content areas with students in 9th-12th grades inclusively, and I do not follow an individual student. If I am exposed, or if someone in one of my classrooms is exposed to COVID, do we all need to self-isolate for two weeks?
Additionally, much of the support provided to our most vulnerable and needy students is provided by kindergarten assistants and additional adult assistants. These assistants work in extremely close proximity to students. They feed students, dress students, change diapers and help students use the bathroom. They do all of this as contractual employees who are not eligible for health insurance and who make far less money than they would in other essential industries. How can we assure the safety of these underappreciated and essential workers?
Thank you for your consideration during these unprecedented times,
Jean A. Milstein
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The Anatomy of Melancholy, 36
Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 3. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Blood, insects, not taking chronic illness so well.
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Once they’d stepped out of the office, both Angel’s new top handles and recalibrated thruster facilitated ‘Choly in smoothly mounting it. The chemist ported both his syringer rifle and his .38, and rode his General Atomics custom companion out into the junkyard. The two took a lap around the yard, then set up some cans and bottles they’d found about the grounds. They took turns shooting at them, ‘Choly to measure the facility of firing from atop Angel with the harness replaced by handles and foot-pegs, and Angel to gauge the effectiveness and stability of the upgrades its owner had made. A successful testing round exhausted trash targets, so they then shot at components of junk vehicles. One would call out the part and make of the vehicle in their sights, and then make good on the shot, not at all unlike calling shots in billiards.
‘Choly had never been so great at billiards. Rather than ding its side mirror, the chemist shattered a Pick-R-Up’s passenger window with a pencil round, and he flinched when Angel chortled. He shot again in defeat, purposefully hitting the broadside of the once-red truck’s passenger door.
Soon, he observed the pickup truck shift in place, and his face slacked. The ground had built up not just underneath but around the underside of the vehicle’s chassis... and within it. The scale of it had prevented him from identifying it as any anthill he’d have known, but when the two-foot-long insects poured out of the cab of the truck, there would be no mistaking it.
He slung his rifle over his back in favor of his pistol, and helped Angel in pushing back the giant ants. His jaw tensed as the game shifted to a crisis, and his eyes scrunched wide with frozen loathing as Angel’s last laser fire struck the very bottom-heavy front end of the Pick-R-Up instead of the last ant.
“We have to get out of here!” He kicked Angel as though to spur it to about face as requested. It complied without hesitation, and immediately he rubbed at its chassis with one hand in apology at the reflex.
Before they even exited the front gate of the hurricane fence, the truck’s rusted nuclear engine combusted. Ants and vehicle parts flew everywhere, and in a chain reaction, the explosion resulted in wave after wave of vehicular explosions. ‘Choly looked back as they zipped down, to realize they sped down Route 62 and not North on Route 4 like he’d planned. He bit his lower lip, but accepted the choice. Maybe they could get to U.S. Route 3 by dark.
The longer they traveled, the denser the once-evergreen woods grew. Angel broke the silence after they’d followed the broken asphalt for half an hour.
“I must say, that was a thousand times worse than shooting at a hornet nest.” The Mister Handy switched out its pincers in favor of a laser and two saws while it spoke. “I apologize for my inaccurate aim precipitating our abrupt exit. Hopefully, you had no further need of anything on premises.”
“We both missed shots. I don’t fault you. Those ants were fast. I’m surprised your thruster flame kept them from climbing you.” He frowned, nettled by noticing its companion’s tacit poise, and readied his .38. “Guess we won't be learning what's wrong with that Sentry...”
“For the better, Mister Carey. That wasn’t our mystery to solve. The government didn’t seem to want it repaired, regardless.”
They approached the on-ramp to access US Route 3. Though ‘Choly recalled the crumbling state of the I-95 flyover in Lexington, he opted to direct them to remain on the highway rather than travel around it. Unlike the flyover, Route 3 was not an elevated expressway, and as such, they could hop the concrete guard walls if they came upon a patch they could not cross. Rusted-out vehicles had crashed through these barriers in places, including an overturned freightliner halfway spilled down the embankment. Besides the weaving required to navigate the highway, all remained quiet. Still, ‘Choly could not ignore Angel still had its weapons drawn.
“I take it you’re sensing something I’m not.”
“I’m not quite sure just yet. I didn’t want to mention it until I was certain, in case it could be chalked up to my still acclimating to the new sensor array.”
“Well, can you describe it?”
“It’s more... what do humans call it? A sense of dread. The woodlands have changed so much since we last came this way.”
“So you’ve got the heebie-jeebies.” His smile faded as quick as it formed. “It’s going to be all right. We just have to get up to the base first.”
The Frank L. Johnson Bridge had bellied out into the Concord, so they moved onto the outer shoulder of the highway.
“Should I dismount? And each of us cross on our own?”
“Nonsense, Sir! My hydraulics could handle a little water skimming, even before your upgrades.”
With that, Angel’s thruster sputtered into a different transmission tier, and they smoothly skated across the river with a swift, spraying wake. ‘Choly glanced both up and down river, admiring how even two hundred years after the apocalypse, the Concord had retained its idyllic tranquility. Once upon the other side, another overturned freightliner obstructed their immediate reentry to Route 3, and they continued on the outer shoulder a ways. Before either could register it coming, something that hummed divebombed ‘Choly’s face. Angel abruptly spun about face, but the moment blurred in a sharp pain to ‘Choly’s rib cage.
“Won’t you stay still!” slurred out of the Handy, and blood smeared through the air in front of ‘Choly as the circular saw connected with the assailant. It swerved about to nearly dance with the others incoming. “How dare you!”
Failing not to hyperventilate, the chemist looked down at his vault suit to find a mosquito head lodged by the foot-long proboscis between a clavicle and rib. His vision fell into a vignette, and his prickling extremities numbed. He could notice laser fire, but could barely focus enough to aim his pistol. Until he could reach his first aid for a Stimpak, he had to resist the reflex to pull the instrument of anatomy from his own.
When Angel noticed ‘Choly wasn’t helping it fire on the insects, it understood the immediacy of locating cover, and sped down the highway rather than eliminate them all.
‘Choly next noticed they were no longer on Route 3. Angel meandered meaningfully through a hilly expanse of field, toward a large white colonial building. He felt like he wasn’t processing what he saw, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of observing robotic carnage strewn about the unkempt fairway. They took the stairs up to the patio, and entered. 'Choly took in the interior design, between the gold twelve-point cross-stars mounted all along the far wall and the bar front with its marble-top, and recognized it as the clubhouse of the Billerica Golf Course.
Angel lowered ‘Choly to collapse gently backwards into a lounge chair. It readied a Stimpak to administer the moment ‘Choly had removed the mosquito proboscis. The thrust required to pull the spiny, textured thing back out left him heaving for breath, and he clamped his free hand over the wound to put pressure on the blood flow. He vacuously wiped blood from the lower half of his face. The Handy gave him a moment to catch his breath before offering him the last Melancholia, which he accepted with resignation.
“I fear I put you in harm’s way,” it started, tendrils terse. “I should have acted sooner. Damn bloodbugs! It’s difficult to trust the increased detail and range of my perception. Do tell me you’ll be all right.”
“I’ll be fine.” Proboscis in one hand, numbing beverage in the other, he let out a weak wet chuckle. “Bloodbugs. Went right for the heart. If it hadn’t been for my spinal corset, it might have connected.”
“Forgive me, gentlemen, but I can’t help but notice the terrible scrap you seem to have just been in.”
The chemist jumped, thinking at first the second holographic British voice had been an hallucination brought on by pain and painkillers, but it was far too soft to belong to Angel. He and his Handy both looked up to find they’d been approached by the very dented up brass Handy that once had run the clubhouse’s bar and grill.
“Bogey, was it?” Angel fielded. “I’m Angel. It’s been many years since we came this way, but you might remember Mister Carey?”
“That I am.” Bogey honed its triplicate sensors on ‘Choly. “You were one of our frequent driving range patrons, were you not?”
“Guilty.” ‘Choly tossed the proboscis on the lounge table. “Thanks for not being mad for us barging in. We’re on our way up to Lowell, but we got dive-bombed by m-- bloodbugs.”
“My word. It’s already getting late, and I don’t encourage traveling Route 3 by night these days. You’re free to stay until tomorrow, though it may not be too much safer.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve got an insect problem here, too.” ‘Choly cut off his wheeze with another swig of the cherry-sweet drink.
“You weren’t followed, were you?”
‘Choly and Angel looked to each other, then back to Bogey. He shook his head.
“I don’t think we’ve got any worries, then,” it extrapolated at a caution, its posture slacking. “Come with me, the two of you. It’s been some time since I had a patron to tend to.”
Angel handed him his cane, and the two followed Bogey to the locker rooms. All the metal doors had been opened, but their contents remained. Several skeletons scattered the floor, including one having fallen out of the shower stall.
“You’re free to help yourself to a change of clothes from what’s in the lockers. It’s been two hundred years since anyone’s used them, and clubhouse policy indicates that any belongings left for more than six months become Billerica Golf Course property, and we can’t resell used clothing. Need I remind in advance, however, not to wear cleats in the clubhouse.”
“My, Bogey, that’s most generous of you. And generous to extend us hospitality! Mister Carey has been most distressed at his lack of wardrobe variety as of late, and it’s quite good to see a friendly face.”
“Ah, yes, agreed. That’s a fine shade of blue, but I imagine humans grow tired of the same exterior far more readily than any of us do. On that note, whatever became of you, chum? If you don’t mind my asking, I’ve never seen a Mister Handy in such a hodgepodge.”
The chemist chuckled as he browsed the lockers. Not many of them had anything in them, but he would stop and pull out an article of clothing on occasion. While the two Handy-bots chatted, he picked out a pair of khaki golf trousers and a cobalt blue pinstripe dress shirt with a white contrast collar and French cuffs, and a gold knit button-down sweater vest that he didn’t mind was missing a button. He found a pair of cleats in his size, and even a pair of saddle oxfords. He put a hand on a sock became animated.
“Good god, socks,” he hushed, going back through the locker contents to grab every pair he could find. No pairs seemed to have survived in tact, but he nearly felt endeared to the notion of mis-mates, and held two at a time up to one another with an odd grin. “It’s been months since I had a new pair of socks. Funny how the simple necessities of yesterday have become so... indulgent.”
“You can have as much or as little attire as you like,” Bogey indulged. “It’s simply occupying space here.”
“We have the storage space for a few ensembles, Mister Carey, if you find anything else to your liking. I’ll leave you with a canister of water and a towel, if you’d like to freshen up before you change.” Angel deposited the items beside the pile of clothing ‘Choly had made on the bench in the middle of the locker room. “I’ll be with Bogey in the lounge, if you need us.”
“Thank you. Both of you.”
Once they were gone, he doubled back to the locker where he had noticed its previous tenant had kept several pair of briefs, and he added them to his pile of new acquisitions. He disrobed and cleaned his face and front with a certain detachment. His spinal corset had soaked up a lot of blood, and removing it for the night would ideally help it dry out. He dressed in his new outfit, minus his binding, and finished off his Melancholia. Looking to the empty bottle, he bit his lip askew.
“I suppose it can’t be helped.”
His Pip-Boy click-chirped, and he glanced down to find the health tab highlighted. Last known Pip-Boy to Vault Suit synchronization completed at 16:23. Please reconnect Pip-Boy to Vault Suit to reestablish advanced diagnostics. It was well after five now. He straightened. When Vault 111 staff had insisted the technological excellence of the Vault-Tec Vault Suit, he had balked at it. But he had no idea the two synchronized for peak function.
He flipped the dial over to the health tab and selected it to read it over. Systemic damage to connective tissues due to sustained exposure to unknown CFCs. Chronic arthritis and arthralgia, possibly owing to a general neuralgia. Likelihood of syncope under duress. Undetermined neurological damage manifesting as memory lacunae. Shell-shock. Opioid addiction.
A hand went to ‘Choly’s mouth, and his right arm slacked. He hadn’t wanted to be right all this time, what was wrong with him. The majority of the things the Pip-Boy enumerated, didn’t sound like they could be cured by medicine. He winced at noticing that he’d nipped his lip between his teeth, and licked at the metallic taste. It wouldn’t get better. This was the best he would get. He stood and left the military coat, Vault Suit, orthotics, and various golf clothing in a mound on the bench. He didn’t bother tidying his hair as he shambled off with his cane to meet the Handy-bots in the main room of the clubhouse.
Surely, after the day he’d had, Bogey could indulge him with a stiff drink.
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#fallout 4#fallout 4 fanfic#fo4#fo4 fanfic#the anatomy of melancholy#mister handy#billerica#Robotics Disposal Ground#melancholy#angel#bogey#Disabled Sole Survivor
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There’s a ‘Price’ to pay for meme trolling.
There is no doubt that the social media world are lovers for a good ol’ meme. Need a conversation starter? A witty reply? Or cheering up on a gloomy day? A meme will guarantee you a laugh. However, what constitutes a well-curated, humorous meme? Well, as we all know, humour is subjective. What you and I find funny will differ, of course. But what criteria needs to be met in order for a meme to go viral? What do the creators of memes set out to achieve when sharing them online? Most importantly, is there a line to be crossed? At what point can we agree that a meme no longer has a shared meaning?
I want to look closely at the memes created online targeting Harvey Price, but firstly, let’s get to grips with what we mean by a ‘meme’. Dawkins (2006) describes the practice of ‘memeing’ to involve “participating in the creation or distribution of a powerful, original idea”. He also proposes that a meme is a “unit of cultural transmission”, an idea or collective conscience that a community share. We share this culture like we share genetic characteristics. Like “biological organisms evolve based on the natural selection of genes, cultures evolve based on the natural selection of memes”. Despite what this wishy-washy, too-poetic-to-be-true analysis may suggest, memes speak volumes about the humour and beliefs within society. Remember these?
With the relationship between the image the caption having no etymological meaning, the caption of a meme can be chopped and changed depending on the intention of the creator. Examples which spring to mind are “Cash me Outside” and the compilations of Arthur memes, in which the captions are often quite predictable. Nonetheless, the meaning of a meme is not always required to be clear and linear. Most of the time they are abstract and nonlinear, in fact. Above all, the most important function of a meme is to depict ‘coolness’.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9dfb8353bbd2f21d31dde828c40639f4/tumblr_inline_pmietr6jaM1wxzpqj_540.jpg)
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Virality and Memes: the good, the bad but mostly the ugly.
Kim Kardashian, or more specifically her career, is a perfect example of how virality can change a life for the better. All thanks to a leaked sex tape in 2007. You can guarantee that this certainly wasn’t one of her finest, most glamorous moments, but I’m sure she’s never looked back. This scandalous footage landed her a career of fame. And now? Over a decade later we spend our lives Keeping Up With The Kardashians. Most recently, with her half-sister Kylie Jenner competing with an egg to get the most liked photo of all time on Instagram, and her step-father Bruce Jenner’s latest transition in becoming Caitlyn, there is no doubt that this family are familiar with being the centre of media attention. With what seemed to be the world going crazy over an egg, this was an attempt, an extremely successful attempt, to promote mental health, specifically how the pressures of social media can make us ‘crack’. Harmless virality, right? What may have once been perceived to be attacks on the Kardashian family, have ultimately led these stars up a path of wealth and success. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t see roaring headline complaints about them loathing this lavish lifestyle?
But it isn’t always this rosy…
What is the first thing that comes to your head when you think of a troll?
This one?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ef4368b073d24823cb08157197a342b0/tumblr_inline_pmido01zA61wxzpqj_540.jpg)
What about this one?
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Or perhaps this one?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0d6dde53e7987b5b97ec95bdd05fb1d2/tumblr_inline_pmie7cGUGp1wxzpqj_540.jpg)
Both through her own career as a supermodel and TV presenter, and since the birth of her son in 2002, Katie Price has experienced, first hand, the ugly truth of virality, specifically in the form of trolling. Tweets, memes, death threats, you name it, attacking her son for the colour of his skin as well as his disabilities. Unlike the Kardashians, Harvey is blissfully unaware of the extremes to which he is taunted daily online. But why do we live in a world which allows people to get away with such disgusting behaviour? On a mission, not only to protect Harvey from this online abuse, but anyone who has ever been subject to trolling, in 2017, she started a petition. This eventually received over 200,000 signatures in a bid to make online trolling illegal. Despite her best efforts at exposing these trolls herself, she discovered there to be little, if any, law enforcement in place to protect victims such as Harvey. Being what Goldhaber (1997) describes to be a “star”, fortunately, she was equipped with the tools to attract mass media attention about the issue of online trolling, to which she appeared on many day time TV programmes informing people about ‘Harvey’s Law’.
In spite of her good intentions, it was no shock that trolls not only continued to fire hate filled tweets about Harvey, but curate memes mocking things he has said on TV appearances, as well as taking content Katie had uploaded to her own social media of Harvey as inspiration.
Any mum would agree that just because she’s in the public eye, it should not mean that she should be deterred from posting photos of her children on social media to protect them from being targeted by trolls.
A clip which many may be familiar with is their appearance on Loose Women, in which he swears on live TV. Although trolls immediately took to photoshop to mock this display of innocence, many could argue that this is part of the viscous cycle of attention economy (Goldhaber, 1997). In order for trolls to give Harvey attention, they need a source to retrieve it from. Contrary to her pledge to protect Harvey from the doom and gloom of social media that we all know and love, she was recently slammed for ‘baiting trolls’ (The Sun, 2019) by setting Harvey up with his own Instagram account. Is this ultimately an invitation for trolls to attack him? Does it provide trolls with the ‘new’ and ‘original’ content they so desperately desire? What do we think, is she now responsible for the trolling Harvey will now be exposed to online?
youtube
A more recent adaptation of memes, known as GiFs, has also been a platform explored by trolls in order to attack Harvey further. During my research into this topic, from simply typing into my search engine “Harvey Price”, this result appeared…
As if memes weren’t exhilarating enough to fulfil the trolls in their cyber-attacks, GiFs of Harvey can now be generated through this site, ultimately allowing people to express themselves in online conversation through indirectly mocking Harvey. But to them it’s nothing serious. Just a passing comment. What angers me the most about this GiF generator is the use of the term “popular”, suggesting that people visiting this site will have access to nothing but the best GiFs - what the trolls would label to be most successful in terms of their virality. First and full most, who is spending their time designing these websites, and secondly, are they proud? Are they THAT disconnected from their emotions that they don’t view this young man as a human being?
But do these memes live up to the definition of ‘memeing’ proposed by Dawkins (2006)?
Are they powerful?
Definitely not.
But perhaps in one way? They’re powerful for delivering the message that no matter what your race, your sexual orientation, your disabilities or your religion, there will always be people in the world who disagree or are opposed to it. Sure, trolls can hide behind their twitter username, but can they hide from their own insecurities? This is important to consider. What is the need for them to create this content? For how long is it funny? A day? A couple of hours?
Are they original?
Most certainly not. If anything, they lack originality. Well, put it this way, I can’t hear anyone applauding these creators for their outstanding pieces of work…
Is it cool?
You must be joking?
The creators of this content might have themselves fooled that they are some- what inspirational to the rest of the nation, or that they’re admired by their fellow meme-ers for their hardcore memeing. But the rest of the nation? The decent human beings of the nation? Disgraceful. Unintelligent. Bullies. A valuable point to be made here is that creators of memes believe they’re in a superior position to those they are ‘memeing’ about, hence why when these memes are shared and distributed online, they appear ‘funny’ to those who perceive Harvey as inferior to them.
And this is why we can’t have nice things…
Phillips (2015) argues that essentially, trolls “are the reason we can’t have nice things online”. He suggests that the online space is meant to be a community where people can feel safe in sharing their thoughts; through tweeting, or sharing snapshots of their life via Instagram. It appears that sadly, this is no longer the case. Trolls are “born and embedded” within dominant institutions. As a result, the saddest, and most frustrating thing of all about meme trolling, is that as long as trolls have the community to support them, and until social media platforms build stronger, much more stable networks which block out these trolls, there will be no end to trolling. This “unapologetically racist humour and legitimate corporate punditry” will only seize to exist online if the threat of the law was to stand between the troll and the ‘send’ button. Why, in those “golden years” between 2008-2011 in which the trolling subculture became “crystalized”, did establishers of these social networks make a stand for this unwanted behaviour? Why is a mother, regardless of whether she’s famous or simply just the mum next door, forced to make a pledge for this internet craze to be wiped from our screens?
How can we make a difference?
It is important to not turn a blind eye to this kind of behaviour online. Although it may not directly affect you, there will always be someone else is in the firing line. Avoid retweeting, sharing and even posting content online which may later come back to bite you. As someone who has been a present, and an active user of social media since my early teens, during this time, I was extremely naïve to the content online. I’m sure there have been posts which I would look back on now and think how my online presence has changed. My humour has changed. What I like and post about has definitely changed, but most of all, social media as a 20-year-old seems a much scarier place to be than when I was 13. Do you agree?
References:
Phillips, W. (2015). This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Mapping the Relationship Between Online Trolling and Mainstream Culture. Massachusetts: MIT Press.
Dawkins, R. (2006). The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Gibb, J. (2019, January 28). Katie Price accused of ‘baiting’ trolls. Retrieved from: https://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/8300554/katie-price-accused-of-baiting-trolls-by-giving-son-harvey-his-own-instagram-account-and-failing-to-protect-him/
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Streaming at the service of sport: Boom of streaming platforms and the benefits they offer
In recent years, you must have witnessed the technological revolution brought dramatic changes in how people consume audiovisual content. From traditional free-to-air television, the technology moved first to satellite and pay-tv, first expanding the catalog available to users, then to digital terrestrial broadcasting, and finally to live broadcast. This new technology represents the future of video transmission, which has a particularly important role in relation to sporting events. Here's what's changed and what you can expect in the near future.
The boom of streaming platforms
The term "streaming" has now become part of our everyday vocabulary thanks to the widespread use of this technology on the web to instantly transmit recorded and live content. Broadcasting is fundamentally based on real-time data flow, so there is no need to download content for users' consumption. In fact, audio and video data are sent from the server to the connected device using broadband without interruption. The last few years have seen a real boom in streaming platforms across a number of sectors, not to mention skyrocketing registered users and revenue. Many of the applications of the companies operating in this field are in the world.
In the internet age, memories associated with the first pay TV that revolutionized Soccer streams for better or worse seem long gone. The introduction of tournament progression and postponement, and the postponed matches starting on the same day, two options that fans have historically never rejected, were in practice largely for business reasons and the Internet. This is due to the need for television, which seems to expand even more in that era.
Apart from personal opinion on these changes, the truth is that football on TV, both in terms of national championships and cup competitions, is becoming more and more a financial issue for telecom operators, and it is increasingly important for companies that do business over the web.
Soccer streams reddit platform will take advantage of new technology to bring more and more users closer together and establish itself as the largest operator of teleport soccer matches, as well as many other events.
Advantages of live soccer streaming platforms
One of its main advantages is that Reddit soccer streams offer live soccer streaming at a much lower price than traditional offerings such as cable TV packages.
Regardless of the platform or the type of event broadcast, the emergence of Soccerstreams should be seen as a significant opportunity for sports fans themselves, thanks to the absorbing power of high-speed Internet and the availability of devices on the market, such as smart TVs. to your smartphone, so you never miss a match even if you're not at home.
Moreover, streaming services let subscribers choose their favorite content, unlike traditional media. It gives soccer fans anytime, anywhere access to live broadcasts, video on demand, replays, and live stats from one app.
The path taken in recent years does not seem to predict new thinking, but on the contrary, it is certain that R soccer is destined to play an increasingly important role for the sports world as a whole which in this new mode of transmission will probably also find different systems system to address the audience and make them more directly involved in the emotions associated with individual events.
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[1]
Blu-ray Menu
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Transcript
P.WEYLASND/PVM/CEL/LOG-CRG/2090.01.11/TRS-MARS.rid79
Views: 1 Priority: Low Encrypt: Low
Links: Weyland Archives, W-PR, XenoSciDiv, AstroSciDiv, AnthroSciDiv, Psy Ops, 109 other private links
/Dictated but not read/BEGIN
This “greeting” was the brainchild of both my science division and my public relations office. On the one hand, it serves a legitimate scientific purpose in contacting these so-called “engineers,” as Shaw calls them, and preparing them for our arrival. The idea is that we will earn thir respect when they see what cultural beauty and technological progress their human creations have achieved. This way they won’t be so inclined just shoot us out of the sky. They’ll welcome us as their wayward children who’ve returned home. That’s the idea anyway.
On the other hand, it gives the Prometheus mission credibility and importance to our shareholders. And upon our eventual return to Earth, this transmission will serve as promotional content for whatever multimedia campaign Weyland Corp will engage in to begin recouping our investment while we study and exploit whatever knowledge or technology we bring back with us. Shaw and Holloway can waste their time enjoying the limelight and going to free dinners while we quietly aggressively use the assets collected on this mission to fuel any number of new projects, technology, products and research.
They’ll get book deals. We’ll make trillions. Changing the world.
–END–
[2]
Inspirations for the Prometheus Transmission
The Arecibo Message
Inspired by the message sent into space in 1974, Weyland Industries has sent a transmission ahead of the Prometheus mission.
In 1974, the most powerful broadcast ever deliberately beamed into space was made from Puerto Rico. The broadcast formed part of the ceremonies held to mark a major upgrade to the Arecibo Radio Telescope. The transmission consisted of a simple, pictorial message, aimed at our putative cosmic companions in the globular star cluster M13. This cluster is roughly 21,000 light-years from us, near the edge of the Milky Way galaxy, and contains approximately a third of a million stars.
The broadcast was particularly powerful because it used Arecibo’s megawatt transmitter attached to its 305 meter antenna. The latter concentrates the transmitter energy by beaming it into a very small patch of sky. The emission was equivalent to a 20 trillion watt omnidirectional broadcast, and would be detectable by a SETI experiment just about anywhere in the galaxy, assuming a receiving antenna similar in size to Arecibo’s.
The message consists of 1679 bits, arranged into 73 lines of 23 characters per line (these are both prime numbers, and may help the aliens decode the message). The “ones” and “zeroes” were transmitted by frequency shifting at the rate of 10 bits per second. The total broadcast was less than three minutes. A graphic showing the message is reproduced here. It consists, among other things, of the Arecibo telescope, our solar system, DNA, a stick figure of a human, and some of the biochemicals of earthly life. Although it’s unlikely that this short inquiry will ever prompt a reply, the experiment was useful in getting us to think a bit about the difficulties of communicating across space, time, and a presumably wide culture gap.
[3]
The Golden Record
Pioneer 10 was launched toward Jupiter in 1972. This spacecraft was the first one to fly to Jupiter, Saturn, the Milky Way Galaxy and stars.
Carrying a gold plaque that describes what we look like, where we are and the date the mission began, it was Earth’s first message sent into space. Pioneer 10 heading towards the red star Aldebaran, which forms the eye of the constellation Taurus (The Bull). Roughly 68 light years away, taking Pioneer 10 more than 2 million years to reach it.
Its sister ship, Pioneer 11, also carrying a Golden Record ended its mission on Sept. 30, 1995, when the last transmission from the spacecraft was received.
It is also interesting to note that the comics series ‘The Forever War (1974)’ had strongly influenced Ridley Scott, and the story itself, is based on the premise that Earth fell into war with the Taurans from Alderbaran after a probe came back damaged. It was published around the time of the Arecibo message being transmitted into space in 74′
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Pioneers 10 and 11, which preceded Voyager, both carried small metal plaques identifying their time and place of origin for the benefit of any other spacefarers that might find them in the distant future. With this example before them, NASA placed a more ambitious message aboard Voyager 1 and 2, a kind of time capsule, intended to communicate a story of our world to extraterrestrials. The Voyager message is carried by a phonograph record, a 12-inch gold-plated copper disk containing sounds and images selected to portray the diversity of life and culture on Earth.
[4]
For all intents and purposes
[Damon Lindelof] So yeah, it was those three pieces of viral: the David 8 ad, which Johnny Hardstaff did, and the Weyland TED talk, and then the quiet eye with Noomi. And then there was one other piece, which was going to be the transmission, that we ended up not doing. It’s in the movie.
[Ridley Scott] We may use it in the US next week. They don’t open for a week.
[DL] So there’s basically… there’s a message in the movie that they’re transmitting to the engineers, with the girl playing the violin, and David and Holloway have the scene where they haven’t responded to the message. That message is another piece of viral which we may or may not release.
[RS] Did you get what the message was about? [It was a message to the engineers.] That would be a constant, from takeoff you’d be constantly replaying that, hoping that somebody’s gonna say “don’t come any further, I’m gonna to blow you out of the sky.” In there, there would be every conceivable form of mathematics equation, and anyone who is superior is going to look at that for three seconds and say “we’ve got chimpanzees on the way.” So, it’s an assessment of who’s coming, basically, it makes sense.
[Q] Is that a reference to the original Voyager probe, which obviously had Bach records, drawings, that kind of mix…?
[RS] Yeah.
[DL] Yeah, from like, in Starman.
[5]
References
gif from Prometheus (2012) by muthur9000
Prometheus Bluray Menu, muthur9000 Archive
Arecibo Message, SETI https://www.seti.org/seti-institute/project/details/arecibo-message
The Gold Record
Ridley Scott talks Prometheus with SlashGear: Candid & Uncut Chris Davies – Jun 2, 2012 https://www.slashgear.com/ridley-scott-talks-prometheus-with-slashgear-candid-uncut-02231334/
Prometheus Transmission Analysis [1] Blu-ray Menu Transcript P.WEYLASND/PVM/CEL/LOG-CRG/2090.01.11/TRS-MARS.rid79 Views: 1 Priority: Low Encrypt: Low Links: Weyland Archives, W-PR, XenoSciDiv, AstroSciDiv, AnthroSciDiv, Psy Ops, 109 other private links…
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Mobile Mechanic Stallion Spring
A mechanic genoa drive is a tool that allows you to change or control the form of your sail. With this features, you can alter the size and shape of it and have some functionality. There are 3 types of roles that someone can fall in when it comes to working with a mechanic Genoa drive. A mechanic, boat technicians, or sailing instructors. The mechanic are generally responsible for making these tools on top of things rather than using them to sail on the oceans. On the other saw, boat technicians work closely with a mechanic genoa drive in order to enable sailors this additional controls for standard outfitting without sails. As for school personnel, they help skippers learn how to use their new floating toy more efficiently and effectively during instruction sessions for others going into the team through some private.
Companies such as mobile mechanic Arvin aim to overcome this obstacle. By using a VR kit, customers can chat, meet new friends and roam around mechanically designed premises together at anytime anywhere. Other firms such as mobile mechanic Genoa drive have also gone on to include AI assistants so that they can guide users, Mobile Mechanic Stallion and Mobile Mechanic Arvin have been products by the mobile mechanic company, Oildale in the past, but now that the company has a new mobile mechanic drive it is unlikely for them to produce new products.
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The recent advances of computer accuracy, has made exploring the robotics-reworking industry more than possible. There are different companies in the robotics industry who are even anticipating the age of humans losing their importance and some industries that were known for being stable for a long time are grappling with how to imitate artificial intelligence. A robot that would make domestic appliances easier is set to enrich lives with its automated system. But then there is still a big challenge here: communicating, matching and interacting with humans
Mobile mechanic Arvin yields a different snowfall pattern than Mobile engineer Arvin due to its transmission. Mobile Mechanic Stallion’s propulsion system generates while Electric mode stow away to make up the total of 18Kw. Mobile mechanics hatchback weighs just when assembled and unassembled price is calculated by 380kg plus engines of all mobile mechanics.
Introducing new features creates a huge demand for content writers, who can generate unique and compelling stories using the tools at their disposal. While most of the time, writing handwritten essays or emails is time-consuming and takes up too much cognitive power. An easy solution to this problem that is really gaining traction in education and business settings is the mobile mechanic print advertising company.
The mobile mechanic Stallion springs ad uses Mobile Mechanic to produce compelling content without taking up too much cognitive power from the brain of the reader. It’s a great tool for busy marketing teams that want a quick turnaround on their content while keeping costs affordable. Later on, they expand their personalized production services to customers who want scripts specially tailored for web programming and articles of an even higher quality but still short turnaround time like e-commerce optimization.
Mobile mechanic Oildale has a shiny faced, green and blue 12 gauge with loads of recoil on these specials. He made his way towards the getaway vehicle. He followed us. Here’s where I stop and check him out, Stallion said before jumping from the roof with a swarm of nano bugs dragging him back to their party before anyone had gotten their hands on him.
Our mobile website content is constantly evolving. With improved technology and availability, it is easier than ever to create high quality help text. This can cut costs and increase conversion because it’s helpful tips written in a way that people find by searching on a compatible topic or trending keyword.
#Mobile Mechanic Stallion Springs#mobile rv repair bakersfield#bakersfield diesel repair mechanic#roadside assistance bakersfield#mobile mechanic bakersfield#bakersfield
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Fiction: Distractions (Chapter 5)
Title: Distractions
Rating: PG-13/T
Fandom: Wild Kratts
Summary: An unexpected move by one side changes the dynamics of the game – and some of the players may never be quite the same again…
Notes: Just a hypothetical that I thought would be fun to explore. Of course, my definition of “fun” may be slightly suspect...
Navigation: Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5
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Distractions
Chapter 5
“You're on!” Chris flashed his brother a confident grin. “There's no way you're going to find more zebra-tailed lizards than I am. I've got a full analysis of their habits right here – it'll lead me straight to them!”
He waved his Creature Pod tantalizingly in front of his brother's face – a move he instantly regretted when Martin deftly plucked the communicator from his hand and, holding it just slightly above Chris's head, began to scroll through its contents. A teasing grin and a removal of the Creature Pod to a level even farther out of his reach were all Chris got for his efforts to snatch the device out of his brother's grasp, but eventually, the older Kratt relented.
“Pretty impressive, bro,” he acknowledged, handing it back, and Chris felt a small glow of pride overtake his mild feelings of annoyance. “You know...”
He trailed off unexpectedly, and Chris, glancing up in surprise, was puzzled to see his smile fading, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. The younger brother wasn't quite sure what to make of the uncharacteristic expression, but he did know that he didn't like it one bit, so he decided to try a little gentle teasing of his own. “What's the matter? Afraid I'm going to win?”
Martin shook his head quickly, the frown vanishing as Chris had hoped. “No way. I’ve just got to think like a zebra-tail. Besides–” Shifting his gaze a little to the left, he matched his brother's earlier grin with one of his own. “I’ve got something you don’t have.”
“What's that?”
The grin widened. “A head start.”
Chris whirled around. Squinting in the bright sunlight, he could just make out a trim little reptile, almost perfectly camouflaged against the desert soil save for the distinctive black-and-white tail curled over its back. Pushing itself up on its slender legs, the lizard eyed the brothers warily, its tail now waving from side to side like a tiny flag. Then, without warning, it turned and bolted, skittering away across the sandy plain in a surprising burst of speed. Martin gave a whoop and sprinted after it.
Chris stared after him for a moment, then shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You'll never catch him,” he called to his brother's retreating back, but of course Martin knew that. He was running for the sheer joy of it – and perhaps, Chris realized belatedly, a touch of competitive spirit. “Guess I'd better get a move on,” the younger Kratt mused, although he wasn't really worried. Martin could more than hold his own when it came to creature knowledge, and his methods, though occasionally rather unorthodox, were generally very effective, but Chris was confident that his more analytical approach would put him over the top. Pausing to consult his Creature Pod once more, he headed off in a slightly different direction than the one his brother had taken, the one that – statistically speaking – should possess the highest concentration of zebra-tails. The race was on.
.
.
Chris paused at the mouth of a small, wooded canyon. He'd had quite a bit of success on the surrounding slopes, but the more abundant vegetation and the small stream running through the ravine made it unlikely that he'd spot many lizards down here. Still, the shade was inviting, a good place to cool off with a long drink of water after chasing around in the hot desert sun. Wiping his brow, Chris settled himself against the trunk of a large cottonwood tree and uncorked his canteen. His eyes roamed over the surrounding rocks and trees as he drank, always on the watch for any creatures that might be nearby, but everything seemed to be quiet.
Perhaps too quiet. The younger Kratt frowned. It wasn't uncommon for desert-dwelling animals to retreat to their burrows and dens during the midday heat, but this stillness had an unnatural quality, one that sent a faint prickle up the back of his neck. Replacing the cap on his water bottle, he stood up abruptly and began to move farther into the wash.
He was almost on top of them before he realized what he was seeing: a pair of cougar kittens, not more than two or three months old, their spotted coats blending in with the leaf litter in the dappled shade. They appeared to be engaged in a bout of playful wrestling, their oversized paws wrapped around each other, one set of tiny teeth nipping at a wayward tail. Chris drew in his breath with a hiss, understanding all at once both what was wrong with the scene and why it was that he hadn't noticed them earlier. The cubs were not moving.
Chris's lips tightened. Glancing farther up the ravine, he saw his suspicions confirmed by the familiar pink jet parked near the water's edge, and a small sigh escaped him. He'd known it was only a matter of time before they ran into Donita again, but he had hoped for his brother's sake that they might be able to put it off a little longer. But abandoning the young cougars was out of the question – and besides, he had to admit that there was definitely something to be said for simply getting this first meeting out of the way. Withholding another sigh, he pulled out his Creature Pod and hailed his brother.
“Looks like we’ve got a creature rescue on our hands,” he reported, fingers flying as he keyed in his coordinates. “Two cougar cubs in suspended animation. Donita’s got her jet parked down here by the stream, but I don't see her or Dabio.”
He thought he saw his brother flinch, just slightly, but it could have been a flicker in the transmission. In any case, all Martin said was, “I'll be right there.”
.
.
Martin quickened his pace as he neared his brother's location, his heart thudding unpleasantly in his chest for reasons that had very little to do with the effort of navigating the rocky terrain. Truth be told, he’d had a bad feeling about this adventure from the start, but he couldn’t tell whether there was actually anything unusual amiss or whether it stemmed from what he considered an extremely cowardly desire to avoid seeing Donita again. He’d vowed not to allow what had happened between them to interfere with doing his job, and he intended to keep that promise, but there was no denying that it had been a lot easier to focus when the possibility of coming face-to-face with her wasn’t lurking in the back of his mind. It doesn't change anything, he told himself sternly. And those cubs need your help.
Cresting the ridge that bordered the wash on that side, he felt his stomach give a nervous twist in spite of all his resolve as he caught sight of the pink jet perched on the gravelly bank, but it was the scene closer to the mouth of the ravine that stopped him dead in his tracks, almost paralyzed with horror. Chris was bending over the cubs with his Creature Pod in hand, absorbed in conducting some kind of bio-scan and completely unaware of the fully-grown female emerging from a clump of bushes behind him. From her narrowed eyes and the way she was lashing her tail, two things were very evident: she was the cubs’ mother, and she was not happy.
Martin snatched his own Creature Pod from his pocket – nearly dropping it in his haste – and hurriedly rang his brother's device. “Hey, bro!” came the cheerful greeting. “I–”
“Shh!” Martin hissed sharply. Chris broke off, giving him a puzzled glance. “Don’t make any sudden movements,” the older brother warned, his voice barely above a whisper, but crystal-clear in its intensity. “Mama cougar at 6 o’clock. Repeat, mama cougar at 6 o’clock.”
Chris’s eyes widened, the smile wiped from his face, and Martin felt his own eyes being drawn skyward in the fleeting, desperate hope of spotting a peregrine falcon whose creature powers he might borrow to swoop down and get his brother out of there. But the vast expanse of blue above him remained clear and empty, unbroken by any shadow of wings, and he reluctantly turned his gaze back toward the ground.
“I’m on my way down,” he assured his brother, starting down what seemed to be the most direct path to the bottom of the slope. “Just turn around very slowly and–”
“–try to back away from the cubs,” Chris finished, nodding. The terrible, frozen look was gone, and Martin could almost see him scrolling through the myriad creature facts stored in his encyclopedic memory, pulling out the ones he could use to formulate a strategy. The younger brother nodded again, giving his sibling a small smile. “Got it. See you soon.” Cutting the call, he took a deep breath and began rising slowly to his feet.
Making his way down the incline as quickly as he dared, Martin felt his stomach twist once again as he watched his brother turn to face the angry female. He was sure that Chris's plan was a solid one – the two of them were no strangers to dealing with agitated creatures, after all – but the cougar is one of the most fiercely protective mothers in the animal world, and the younger Kratt was walking a very fine line, needing to retreat without provoking her chase instinct, while simultaneously making himself appear both too insignificant to be a threat to the cubs and too intimidating to be prey.
He seemed to be managing it, however. Drawing himself up to his full height, he spread his arms and legs wide and held his ground for a moment, then lowered his hands, assuming a slightly more submissive posture, and began to edge away from the cubs. The mother allowed him to retreat a short distance as she glided swiftly toward her offspring, but on giving them a nudge and finding them unresponsive, she let out a distressed whine, then growled low in her throat and began to pursue him.
Martin had been approaching cautiously, trying not to alarm her further, but it was manifestly too late for that now. Breaking into a run, he charged down the embankment, waving his arms and shouting at the top of his voice in a frantic attempt to draw her attention away from his brother.
For a moment, it appeared to have worked. Flattening her ears, the mother turned and moved a few steps in his direction, her teeth bared in a snarl. “Come on, come on,” Martin urged her under his breath. Another step, and Chris, seeing his opportunity, made a dash for a nearby tree, grabbing hold of a low-hanging branch and swinging himself up onto it.
But whatever relief Martin might have felt was extinguished almost immediately as the mother, apparently unwilling to relinquish her original quarry, turned back toward the younger Kratt with a menacing growl. One quick leap, and she was beneath the tree, swinging her powerful forepaw toward the human she believed to have endangered her cubs. Chris let out a cry of pain as her claws raked across the back of his leg.
“No!” Martin's anguished, answering cry echoed off the surrounding rocks. Chris was scrambling up the trunk, trying to get himself out of reach, but his injured leg buckled under his weight, and he slipped, barely managing to catch hold of the lowest branch to avoid plummeting to the ground. Clinging tightly with both hands, he tried desperately to hoist the rest of his body up onto it while the cougar paced below him.
Lungs burning, muscles screaming, Martin raced toward the pair, faster than he had ever run in his life. He had to get to Chris, had to help him somehow, but the distance between them didn't seem to be getting any smaller, and suddenly he knew, with a cold certainty that almost brought him to his knees, that he would never make it in time.
But he still had one move remaining, one surefire way to distract her. It was crazy, possibly bordering on suicidal, but what else could he do? Letting out another yell, he pivoted and changed course, heading straight for the cubs.
He thought he heard, as though from a long way off, the sound of Chris's voice screaming out his name, but he couldn't think about that now. Every ounce of his attention was riveted on the mother as she started toward him with another terrible snarl, every movement a reaction to hers. If he drew back too soon, she would lose interest in him and turn back to Chris as she'd done before. Too late, and... well, he preferred not to dwell on that.
Five more steps, Martin told himself, praying that he'd bought his brother enough time to make it to safety. Three more... two...
He hit the brakes, sending up a shower of pebbles as he skidded to a stop a scant few yards from the cubs. Fighting the overpowering urge to simply turn and bolt, he held his position for a few seemingly interminable seconds before beginning to back away, retreating slowly and deliberately in the opposite direction from the tree.
The mother paused in her advance, eying him suspiciously. Martin met her gaze as steadily as he could – a last-ditch display of a strength he was far from feeling – but he could see the powerful muscles under her tawny coat, coiled and ready to spring, and he felt his own muscles tighten in response, equally prepared to dodge the attack.
All at once, the ground between them seemed to come alive in a wriggling mass of spotted fur. The startled female jumped, not forward, but back, wide-eyed, as the cubs came hurtling toward her; the next moment, she had launched herself at them with a volley of ecstatic purrs, licking and pawing them all over as though to assure herself that they were all right, while they snuggled into her comforting warmth.
The undeniable tenderness of the scene brought a soft smile to Martin's face as he watched, even though he knew that he and perhaps Chris were still in very real danger. The little family seemed so absorbed in one another, however, that he thought it just might be possible to slip away and rejoin his brother without being noticed. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began shifting his weight to his back foot, but before he'd taken even a single step, the mother glanced up sharply, her golden eyes flashing. Martin froze, hardly daring to breathe, as she directed a long, penetrating look at him, then back at Chris. At last, she turned and, giving her cubs a final nuzzle, led them away into the underbrush.
Martin stood gazing after them, held fast by wonder and amazement, until the tip of the last tail had disappeared from view. Then, letting out a long breath, he turned and began hurrying toward the tree, where Chris, who had been cautiously making his way down from the higher branches, now dropped to the ground, his trademark skilled landing deteriorating into an awkward semi-collapse as his wounded leg gave way beneath him.
“Chris!” Martin put on a final burst of speed, almost falling to his knees at his brother's side. His normally bright brown eyes wore a slightly glazed expression, and Martin bit his lip, hoping desperately that he wasn't going into shock. “Chris?” he called again, more softly, as he reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Bro?”
The younger Kratt jumped. “Martin... I... you–” Chris shuddered convulsively, burying his face in his brother's shoulder.
“It's okay,” Martin whispered, although he too was shaking. “It's okay.” He hardly even knew what he was saying, pure older-brother instinct taking over as he struggled to absorb the full impact of what had just taken place, and it was only the knowledge that Chris was still bleeding that induced him to loosen his hold on his brother. He drew in a deep, slightly ragged breath, then another, fighting to hold back the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both. “Let's– let's take a look at that leg of yours, huh?”
Chris nodded and sat back, extending the injured limb with a wince while Martin dug the first-aid kit out of his pocket and set about cleaning and examining the wounds. He worked in silence for a few minutes, both brothers lost in their own thoughts once more, but the familiar – perhaps too familiar – motions carried with them a sense of normalcy that was oddly soothing, and he soon felt his hands growing steadier, the specter of what could have been receding for the moment in the face of practical necessity.
“Well, it could’ve been a lot worse,” he reported at last, sitting back on his heels with a relieved-sounding exhale as he reached back into his kit for a roll of bandages. “You're probably going to need a few stitches once we get back to the Tortuga, but it doesn't look like there's any major damage. He gave his brother a crooked smile. “But no more tree-climbing for a couple of days, at least.”
Chris nodded absently, and Martin noted with affectionate amusement the intent expression that meant that he was puzzling over some question or other. Injury or no, the younger Kratt was never one to leave a mystery unsolved for very long. Sure enough, as Martin began wrapping a final layer of gauze around his brother’s leg, Chris's head abruptly snapped up. “How did the cubs get free?” he demanded.
Martin blinked, a bit taken aback. Honestly, the question hadn’t even crossed his mind until now. He’d been stunned to see the cubs suddenly come to life, and almost dizzy with relief when their mother had decided to put an end to the confrontation, but once she and her babies had vanished into the underbrush, he’d had no time for analysis, no thought to spare for anything but Chris. “I… don’t know,” he started to say, but even as he spoke, he found his gaze being drawn back upstream with the dawning realization of what must have happened.
Donita was standing beside the jet with the controller in her hand, watching the two brothers with an odd expression on her face. When her eyes met Martin's, she smiled, ever so slightly. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he got to his feet, the roll of gauze trailing forgotten from his hand, and for a long moment neither of them moved or spoke.
“All ready, Donita!” Dabio's cheerful voice shattered the silence.
Donita gave a start. She looked down at Martin for another moment, then turned slowly, deliberately, back toward the jet, sauntering up the ramp in her high-heeled boots. When she reached the top, she paused, throwing another smile over her shoulder – a smile much more like the confident, slightly flirtatious one she usually wore – and fluttered her fingers in a tiny wave. Then the doors closed behind her and she was gone.
Chris let out a long breath as the aircraft streaked off across the sky, growing smaller and smaller in the distance until it was lost from sight. “Why'd she do it?” he wondered aloud. “Did she want us to feel like we owe her one?” He cast a sidelong glance at his brother, the teasing note of weeks past now conspicuously absent from his voice. “Or do you think she really...?”
Martin shook his head, his eyes still on the last lingering wisps of vapor that the jet had left behind. “I don’t know,” he said at last, turning back to Chris with a rueful half-smile. “And I’m not sure I ever want to find out.”
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MegaMan PSP Games - Powered Up / Maverick Hunter X
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The Mega Man series has always been tough for newcomers to dive into. Its a series based on challenge, skill, and memorizing stages and patterns. The original series was restrained by the technical limitations of the time, so they look more cartoony and kid friendly. The Super Nintendo’s Mega Man X series was a sequel intended to carry the torch and bring the Blue Bomber into the 16-bit era with a new look, new moves, and a new, more mature storyline.
In 2005 Capcom announced a pair of simultaneous releases for Sony’s PlayStation Portable handheld console. Mega Man Powered Up and Mega Man Maverick Hunter X were remakes of the first games in the Mega Man and Mega Man X series that utilized the 3D capabilities of the PlayStation Portable to render new ways to experience these gems of gaming. Both were remade with the idea to be accessible to newcomers, and plans were in the works for sequels to both games based on Mega Man 2 and Mega Man X2.
Unfortunately, sluggish sales would lead to both sequels being canceled. Today we have the Mega Man and Mega Man X Legacy Collections to give us our fill, but these titles were more than just ports. There were new features, new bosses, they were practically their own games worthy of their own discussion. That’s why today we’re going to be taking a look at Mega Man Powered Up and Mega Man Maverick Hunter X.
MegaMan Powered Up
It’s said that when designing Mega Man, Keiji Inafune wanted to use a “super deformed�� style for the characters. Big heads on little bodies for a funny, cute look. The problem was that the technology of the time made it difficult to portray this style, so a compromise was made. The characters were still cute, but the proportions weren’t as exaggerated as originally intended. Inafune would get his chance to try his “chibi” designs when Capcom announced Mega Man Powered Up in 2005, a complete remake of the original Mega Man, updated for Sony’s new PSP handheld.
Gaming had changed a lot between the 1980’s and the mid-2000’s. Before, game design was influenced by arcade trends. Challenge and difficulty were added to games of the time to hide the fact that these games theoretically could be beaten within the span of a few hours. The original Mega Man games came from an era where rental services like Blockbuster made it easy for someone to spend $5 instead of $50 on a game for the week. If a game could be beat in an afternoon, then there was no reason for the gamer to buy the game. This was also helped by the lack of save features in these early games.
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In the mid-2000’s, however, these tricks were irrelevant. Game development had reached a point where games had enough content. There was no longer a need to pad a game with challenge to keep them from beating it in a single sitting. With this in mind, Capcom sought to re-work the original Mega Man series for the next generation of kids who hadn’t grown up with the originals. Now there are multiple difficulties to cater to different kinds of players.
The premise, characters, levels, music, almost everything in the game are based on the original Mega Man, but now everything is expanded upon. Characters pop-out in 3D, and the levels follow the same designs, but now the world feels more alive. The story is played out through character dialogue and little cutscenes. This game would go on to influence the story and characters in the Archie tie-in comics.
Two new characters were created specifically for this game, each with their own unique level. Time Man and Oil Man bring the game’s original six Robot Masters up to eight, in line with the rest of the series. Oil Man’s design would cause controversy as it closely resembles the “Blackface” stereotype, with his black skin and big red lips.
For some background, Japanese artists are influenced by those who came before them, and a lot of the original manga artists learned from American cartoonists. Blackface portrayals were prominent in American cartoons and comics, which were imported to Japan after World War II. The average person in Japan doesn’t have any context for the history of Blackface in America, which doesn’t excuse the depictions. Because of this cultural misunderstanding, Oil Man’s skin was turned dark blue and his lips were colored yellow.
My favorite addition to this game is the ability to play as the boss characters you defeat. Each boss has their trusty weapon as their base weapon, and now the empty hole they left in their stage has been filled by a rogue Mega Man who’s looking for trouble. There are other playable characters, but I won’t spoil them for you.
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I’m disappointed that we never got to see any sequels to Powered Up. It seemed like the perfect formula for Mega Man. Remake 1 through 6 in this style, maybe 7 and 8, then they could’ve done 9 and 10 too. Every time I see a new trailer for 11 I just think of it as a sequel to Powered Up, but with a more streamlined design. Don’t get me started on Mighty No. 9, the unfortunate “spiritual successor” to the Mega Man series.
Mega Man Powered Up is one of the best PSP games, and possibly one of the best Mega Man games. It’s unfortunate that it came out too early in the PSP’s lifespan to really take off, maybe if Capcom had ported the game to the PS2 or Gamecube it would have fared better.
MegaMan Maverick Hunter X
Maverick Hunter X, the companion title to Mega Man Powered Up, is a remake of the 1993 Super Nintendo classic Mega Man X. Unlike Powered Up, which completely redesigned the classic Mega Man, Maverick Hunter X stays relatively true to the original design and style of the Mega Man X franchise. It features anime cutscenes, similar to those used in Mega Man X3 and X4. One could argue that the animation and voice acting are noticeably better this time around.
While Powered Up was designed to be accessible for anyone, Maverick Hunter X is designed to be a more mature challenge. There’s no Easy Mode this time, only Normal and Hard. The first Mega Man X was never as challenging as later games in the series, but it wasn’t a walk in the park. Maverick Hunter X isn’t easier, but it does feel a little tighter to control.
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The MegaMan series has never been strong on plot, but the Mega Man X sub-series does have a surprisingly strong lore. This has only ever been casually hinted at, with little exposition besides a few animated cutscenes or slideshows. Maverick Hunter X delivers a decent story in the form of an animated opening cutscene, as well as character dialogue between stages. Each boss battle opens with a back-and-forth between X and the boss in question where they explain their perspective before jumping into the action.
Once you beat the game you unlock what’s probably the coolest bonus a video game can have: a 25 minute animated film. The Day of Σ is a self-contained animated special that ties in with the game. The special is a prequel that ends where the game begins, and it tells the story of Sigma and the other reploids going Maverick.
This approach to video game storytelling works surprisingly well because it doesn’t interfere with the gameplay. Most story-driven games feel bloated with unending cutscenes, other games don’t feel fleshed out enough when they don’t include any cutscenes. Maverick Hunter X including an anime OVA is similar to 2003’s Dot Hack series from Bandai, which also came with a four part animated mini-series. 2010’s Dragon Ball Raging Blast, also from Namco Bandai, similarly featured a 20 minute special called The Plan to Eradicate The Super Saiyans.
Fans of the Mega Man X series have noted some inconsistencies with Maverick Hunter X and The Day of Sigma compared to the rest of the franchise. These story inconsistencies wouldn’t matter if Capcom had gone through with their plan to reboot the X series. Had they continued the groundwork started by Maverick Hunter X, future games would fill in the blanks, and re-tell the original stories in new and exciting ways.
As far as fan speculation goes, we can draw all of Mega Man’s problems in the late 2000’s/early 2010’s right here. Mega Man Powered Up and Maverick Hunter X were great games, but for one reason or another neither title was very successful at the time of release. What’s worse is, Maverick Hunter X was available digitally on the PlayStation Network Store when the PlayStation Vita debuted, but Mega Man Powered Up couldn’t get the same treatment due to technical issues.
Both games are great and it's a shame that they’re lost to time, trapped forever on a long forgotten handheld. I have nothing against the Mega Man Legacy Collections, but I miss the days when developers attempted to remake their classic games for later generations. While there’s no arguing against the value of preserving original games and making them available to be played as originally intended, I think the world would benefit from more modernized remakes that take advantage of today’s technology to do things they could never originally do.
I hope one day Capcom releases both Mega Man PSP games. Possibly alongside other mid-2000’s curiosities like Mega Man X Command Mission and Mega Man Network Transmission. There are enough oddball Mega Man spin-offs to fill a few more Legacy Collections, I think.
Where to Buy
Mega Man Powered Up (PSP)
Mega Man Maverick Hunter X (PSP)
Mega Man Double Pack (PSP)
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Nampō Roku, Book 1 (17): the Utensils for the Small Room.
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17) With respect to the utensils for the small room, it is better if everything is [somewhat] lacking¹. There are people who detest things that are even slightly damaged², [but] this [kind of attitude] is completely unacceptable.
In the case of newly-fired [pieces of pottery] and objects of that sort³, if they have developed cracks⁴, they are difficult to use⁵. But things like imported chaire and other “proper” utensils⁶, when they have been repaired with lacquer⁷, can still be used in the future.
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Besides this, when [we] speak of the way to combine the utensils⁸: a recently fired chawan [used together with] an imported chaire -- [you] must know how to do [things] like this⁹.
In Shukō's period, even though the things [used for chanoyu] were still splendid¹⁰ at that time, he put his treasured ido-chawan¹¹ into a fukuro, handling it just like a temmoku¹²; and [he] initiated the practice of always bringing out a natsume¹³, or a recently-made chaire, together with it¹⁴.
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◎ The chawan known as the Kanamori ido [金森井戸本] and the Honnō-ji bunrin [本能寺文琳] chaire. Two examples of damaged utensils that continued to be used for chanoyu in the small room after they were repaired with lacquer.
¹Yorozu-koto taranu ga yoshi [よろず事たらぬがよし].
The auxiliary verb taru [たる] means “is enough;” “is sufficient.” Taranu [たらぬ], then, means “not enough;” “insufficient.”
²Sonji [損し].
Sonji [損じ] means injured, damaged, cracked, defective.
³Ima-yaki nado [今やきなど].
Ima-yaki [今燒] means pottery that has been fired recently. Nado [など] means “(and) things of that sort.”
Recently made things are “difficult to use” if they have become damaged (through misuse -- whether because of carelessness or otherwise) because they can easily be replaced: so using them seems inauspicious (or niggardly).
⁴Ware-hibi kitaru ha [われひゞきたるハ].
Ware-hibi [割れ罅] means to crack or split through use (it does not refer to the natural crackles that are present in certain glazes).
Kitaru [來る] means to develop, be due to (literally, “to come,” “to arrive”). In other words, damage that has come about after the piece was in the host's possession, due to improper handling (whether accidental or through negligence is not important).
⁵Mochii-gatashi [用ひがたし].
Mochii-gatashi [用い難し] means something is difficult to use, difficult to make use of.
⁶Kara-no-chaire nado-yō no shikarubeki-dōgu ha [唐の茶入などやうのしかるべき道具ハ].
Kara-no-chaire [唐の茶入] means a chaire that was imported from the continent (kara [唐] means Tang China, though none of the chaire were made before the Southern Sung period, and most long afterward; the word kara, though more commonly when it was written phonetically, was also used to mean Korea in pre-modern times).
Shikarubeki-dōgu [然るべき道具]: shikarubeki [然るべき] means proper, appropriate.
This refers to objects that were “real” utensils, on account of their pedigree and history of transmission*. Comprehending this statement on a “gut level” depends on an attitude that we -- surrounded by imitations (while the originals are almost unknown, and certainly unapproachable; not a part of our reality or experience) -- are not really able to assume. ___________ *In contrast to things that the host found (or made) by himself.
⁷Urushi-tsugi shite [うるしつぎしても].
Urushi-tsugi [漆繼ぎ] means something like “repaired with lacquer.” Urushi-tsugi suru [漆継ぎする] means “to stick something together with lacquer.”
In the period when Nambō Sōkei wrote down these entries, there was no such thing as kin-tsugi [金継ぎ], where the lacquer-repair is sprinkled with gold powder as it is drying. In his time, the person undertaking the repair work usually tried very hard to approximate the original color of the piece as closely as possible, so that the damage would be (almost) undetectable. Which did not mean that people tried to pass such things off as being in perfect condition: famous utensils were known, as was any damage that befell them; the purpose was to make them usable again, with as little distraction* and as possible.
Between Sōkei's day and the appearance of kin-tsugi in the Edo period, there was a time when such repair work was done in a more perfunctory manner, using ordinary black lacquer. Here the idea was simply to mend the damage, without bothering to try to obscure it, let alone enhance it (by adding gold). This was the most wabi sort of repair†. ___________ *People worried that the piece would come apart while they were using it, which unsettled the guests as well as the host. This is why the effort was made to efface the damage to the extent that it did not catch the attention of the conscious mind.
†The vertical cracks on the front side of the Kanamori ido (shown above, in the text of the entry) were repaired in this way.
This is possible to do because lacquer -- unlike most paints -- does not change its volume (through evaporation of the solvent) as it dries. Thus the dried lacquer occupies precisely the same area as it did when it was wet, and it is this that allows it to form a water-tight seal.
⁸Dōgu no tori-awase to mōsu ha [道具ノ取合ト申スハ].
Tori-awase [取り合わせ] means the way to combine the utensils together to produce a pleasing effect.
The sudden shift from using hiragana to using katakana for the remainder of this entry (which is why I inserted the dashed line, to separate the text of the first part of this entry from this) suggests that this was originally a separate topic that Jitsuzan either conflated with the text (on using damaged and repaired utensils) that went before, or that was inserted into this place (by someone else), with the intention of introducing certain ideas that seem to be foreign to the period in which Nambō Sōkei wrote these memoranda -- but closely connected with early Edo sensibilities (or, perhaps, attitudes that chajin were being advised to adopt during that period). The rule that is being laid out -- and, even more, the example that is used to illustrate that rule -- is an oddity, a non sequitur not only to what has gone before (in this entry), but also to the kinds of teachings expounded more generally in the Nampō Roku.
⁹Gotoshi kokoroe-beshi [如此心得べし].
Gotoshi [如此 = 如し] means like, as if, the same as, in the same way.
Kokoroe [心得] means to know, understand. -Beshi [べし] means should (do something).
Prior to Rikyū, people involved with chanoyu tended to feel that all of the utensils used during a given chakai should be of similar quality (all costly antiques, or all new), and that the host should always make an effort to use the best utensils that he could afford*. (And many modern schools also hold this to be true even today -- a legacy of the damnatio memoriae that was imposed on Rikyū following his seppuku.) People of means amassed a modest collection of expensive utensils†, while the hermits and recluses who pursued chanoyu as a method of Zen training used worthless things that they discovered here and there.
But what this passage is advocating is that the host not be afraid to combine a newly made piece with an estimable and renowned utensil -- not to contrast their values, but because they combine in a pleasing way that is appropriate to the setting and circumstances of the gathering. In other words, be content and use the things you own, rather than covet objects that are beyond your means. ___________ *Since only one representative example of each of the necessary utensils was all that was required.
†Because the “goal” was always to use the finest utensils that the host could afford, people tended to continually upgrade their collection, replacing their former treasures with new ones (while passing on the old pieces to other people whose collections were yet at a lower level).
A comment should be made regarding Ashikaga Yoshimasa and his huge collection of cha-dōgu. Prior to the destruction of his storehouse -- which was apparently a political statement, rather than one motivated by avarice -- Yoshimasa had access to a great collection of largely imported pieces of art. However, these were not his personal possessions. Rather, the collection represented the tribute that had been paid to the Ashikaga family over the years (though this “tribute” was called by different names, depending on the circumstances under which the object had been gifted to the government), and he had access to it simply because he was the shōgun (and then the de facto regent during the rule of his immature successor). The dōbō [同朋], who appear to have been descended from functionaries in the Koryeo court, were employed primarily to sort through the contents of the official storehouses, appraising the worth (or lack whereof) of each object stored (since there appear to have been almost as many worthless pieces in storage as there were authentic treasures). Noticing that certain of these objects were suitable for use in chanoyu, these things were brought to Yoshimasa’s attention because he had shown an interest in chanoyu, and the dōbō Nōami then instructed Yoshimasa in their use.
Thus, in a sense, this was all an experiment in seeing how many variations on the theme of chanoyu were possible with the objects found in the storehouses, rather than an exercise in collecting and flaunting his wealth.
¹⁰Imada mono-goto kekkai ari-shida ni [イマダ物ゴト結構ニアリシダニ].
Imada [未だ] means as yet, still, only.
Mono-goto [物事] means things, everything (i.e., the arrangements and the utensils employed for chanoyu).
Kekkō [結構] means splendid, nice, wonderful, excellent.
¹¹Hizō no ido-chawan [秘蔵ノ井土茶盌].
Hizō [秘蔵] means to treasure, prize, cherish.
Ido-chawan [井土茶盌] is usually written ido-chawan [井戸茶碗] today.
While it is true that Shukō owned an ido chawan (the bowl that is now known as the Tsutsu-i-zutsu [筒井筒]), there appears to be a distinctly Edo period flavor to this story -- since Shukō most probably used his ido-chawan as a kae-chawan, as was the convention at that time*.
It is extremely difficult to sort out the stories related to these early chajin, if only because of the deliberate distortions and conflations inflicted on history by Kanamori Sōwa. It appears, however, that Shukō arrived in Japan as a refugee, and he may have had very few utensils during the first years of his life in Japan -- and likely used whatever he could at that time. But there was obviously something special about this man, suggesting that he had already established a reputation as a master of chanoyu while still on the continent, and over time, as his finances (and social position) improved, he began to acquire utensils that were more and more suitable.
Ido-chawan -- bowls with a high foot -- were (originally) made to be used (in Korea) by the lower classes, when making offerings to the dead, or during the indigenous Ancestor Worship ceremonies. So placing such a bowl in a cloth bag† and handling it formally on such an occasion certainly would have been appropriate (even if it would also indicate -- if the ido-chawan was truly the only bowl that he used -- that Shukō was of a somewhat lower social class than is generally assumed). But it is the apparent surprise over this kind of handling -- which clearly originated in the mind of an Edo period commentator who was ignorant of these foreign customs -- that smacks strongly of anachronism‡.
The same can be said of the statement (see the next footnote) that Shukō regularly used a natsume with this chawan -- which also illuminates a distinctly Edo period sort of sensibility**. This all, in turn, suggests that at least part of this section of the entry is likely spurious, perhaps added (as an illustration or encouragement?) by someone intent on making a certain kind of statement, or establishing a precedent for a certain kind of behavior. It is possible that Jitsuzan did this, though it is more likely that this material was added by the same person who inserted the Kanamori Sōwa version of chanoyu history into the third entry. ___________ *The kae-chawan was not usually used to serve tea. The exception to this rule, however, being when a nobleman-guest was accompanied by attendants, and he asked the host to serve them tea as well. In the early days, since tea was exceptionally rare and precious (so the host would usually grind only enough to serve the single guest -- this is why the tiny ko-tsubo chaire were preferred as the tea containers at that time), “serving them tea” usually meant that the tea remaining in the chawan after the nobleman had drunk (the cha-no-ato [茶の跡]) was diluted with some more hot water, and this koicha-hot water mixture was then poured into the kae-chawan, and offered to the attendants (who shared the bowl of usucha by passing the kae-chawan around among themselves).
It seems that the occasion when Shukō offered the guests tea in his ido-chawan took place shortly after his arrival in Japan, apparently while performing a memorial service for his teacher -- who had either been killed during the persecution of the Amidaists in Korea beginning in the second half of the fifteenth century (which precipitated Shukō’s own exodus from his homeland), or perhaps had lost his life during the dangerous voyage of escape to the Korean expatriate communities (Sakai and Hakata) in Japan.
In fact, if Shukō owned both a temmoku-chawan and an ido-chawan on the occasion of that famous memorial service (as seems likely -- if he truly did not have a temmoku, then it is difficult to imagine that he would have gained the respect of his contemporaries for his practice of chanoyu), it is probable that he prepared the tea and made the offering using his temmoku-chawan. And then, after taking the temmoku down from the altar, a little hot water would have been added to the temmoku and the koicha-hot water mix was then poured into the ido-chawan, and the ido-chawan containing something resembling thin usucha was then passed around for the (two or three) guests, as well as the host, to share. This is how the nobleman-shōkyaku’s attendants were usually served -- and doing so on this occasion would mean that the deceased master was the true guest, while all those present were merely his attendants (an especially apt way of viewing things: in a similar vein, passing the chawan around after making the offering, so that each person present could drink a little of the tea -- as a sort of way to come into communion with the deceased -- would have been similar to the practice of drinking of some of the shira-zake [白酒] that has been offered to the family’s Ancestral Spirits, a custom that persists in modern-day Korea).
†In the early days, utensils did not have boxes (a few of the early karamono chaire had ivory or lacquered wooden hikiya [挽家], but this was by and large the exception rather than the rule). Boxes first appeared in the late sixteenth or early seventeenth centuries, for chaire (the earliest examples suggest that these boxes were originally made as hitotsu-iri sa-tsū-bako [一入茶通箱], boxes for a single container of gift tea; and, when the boxes were of high quality, they were later reused by the host as storage containers for his own chaire).
Traditionally, treasured utensils were provided with cloth bags, to keep them reasonably dust free when not in use. This practice began to fall out of favor during Rikyū’s period of influence, since he disliked displaying anything but the chaire in its bag (considering that the old cloth bags made the chawan dirty, from accumulated dust that fell into the bowl prior to the bag’s being removed at the beginning of the temae). Thus, when speaking of Shukō’s period, it is hardly surprising (and certainly not exceptional) that his ido-chawan was provided with a cloth bag -- even if this struck the Edo period reader as being unusual.
‡If Shukō used his ido-chawan to prepare tea (because he did not own a temmoku-chawan at that time), it was most likely done only until he had the means to acquire a temmoku, since he is eventually recorded as having served tea to other people using a temmoku-chawan on a dai on ordinary occasions. (This temmoku-chawan is often shown resting on a Chinese tsui-koku temmoku-dai [堆黒天目臺] in modern publications, but this is anachronistic since this temmoku-dai seems to have come to Japan in the Edo period. Shukō would have used a plain black Chinese dai, most likely one of the 36 meibutsu kazu-no-dai [数の臺], though the specific dai has apparently not been identified by scholars.)
It should be pointed out that, following the dissolution of the Koryeo court, chanoyu began to spread out among the different ranks of Korean society, and it was at this time that the foundations for the different kinds of practice (including the thread that we would identify as wabi no chanoyu -- which rejected the use of the temmoku in favor of locally made bowls that were not placed on a dai) began to appear.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/38c691769ec81351b3f829ae15d160a8/tumblr_inline_pbizxjBPMz1rnetfw_540.jpg)
What we can say with reasonable confidence is that Shukō lived in Japan for between 30 and 40 years, following his arrival from the continent (which seems to have been during the 1460s), and that he practiced chanoyu for that whole time; that he owned both a temmoku chawan and an ido-chawan (both of which are shown above), as well as a second large chawan (known as the Shukō chawan -- it was destroyed in the fire that consumed the Honno-ji following Nobunaga’s seppuku); and that, according to the story (which has been circulated since the early sixteenth century -- and possibly even earlier, during Shukō’s own lifetime), on one occasion he passed around the ido-chawan for the guests to share (which was significant since it was the actual guests who drank from the bowl, not their lower-ranked attendants). How these points have been interpreted after the fact, then, depends on who is doing the interpreting -- and his reasons for wanting to do so.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aa59d79eb7d3993d2cefc19d7cbeca30/tumblr_inline_pbj1fuZiE91rnetfw_540.jpg)
◎ Above is a photograph of Uesugi Kenshin’s [上杉謙信; 1530 ~ 1578] collection of tea utensils, which he kept in the lacquered box shown behind the other pieces. Kenshin was a daimyō, and one of Jōō’s chief disciples. He also seems to have been a follower of the Ikkō Shū [一向宗], the Amidaist Sect of Buddhism closely connected with the early chajin (and from the teachings of which much of the early philosophy of chanoyu was derived). Kenshin retired around 1553, and spent the remainder of his life practicing chanoyu and writing a commentary on Jōō’s Chanoyu Sanbyak’ka Jō [茶湯三百箇條] (the Three Hundred Lines of Chanoyu). What is important about this photo is that, with the exception of his kama and mizusashi, it shows the entire utensil collection of a man seriously devoted to the practice of chanoyu in the middle of the sixteenth century. The reader is asked to take note of the two ordinary chawan (both of Seto ware, the smaller one brown, and the other white), and how shallow they are. Thus Jōō spoke of the ido-chawan as being “deep” in his collection of the Hundred Poems of Chanoyu. (The objects shown in front of the carrying box are, from left to right, a smaller brown Seto chawan [瀬戸天目茶碗] -- “Seto temmoku” referring to the glaze, not the shape or how the chawan was used --, a chasen [茶筅], an ivory chashaku [象牙茶杓], a Seto kake-hanaire [瀬戸掛花入], a larger white Seto chawan [白瀬戸茶碗], a Chinese yu-teki temmoku [油滴天目], a shin-nakatsugi [眞中次], a bronze oki-hanaire [唐金置き花入], a maki-e temmoku-dai [蒔絵天目臺] -- probably of Japanese make --, and the cloth bag for the nakatsugi.)
**This section of this entry clearly deals with the idea of tori-awase, but the concept of tori-awase (as the word is used here) did not begin to appear until near the end of Rikyū’s lifetime (specifically, after he entered Hideyoshi’s household), as a consequence of the concatenation of the very recent idea (originated, many say, by Furuta Sōshitsu) of producing utensils specifically for use in chanoyu, coupled with Rikyū’s sudden access to Hideyoshi’s large collection of tea utensils (which he was encouraged by Hideyoshi to use for various -- often political -- reasons: this is why I included the photo of Uesugi Kenshin’s collection of tea utensils above, since these are the things that he used every time he served tea, with the use of the temmoku being linked to the rank of the guests, while the two ordinary bowls allowed him to employ kasane-chawan if there were many people to serve). Only then, when a large number of things of different types suddenly were available to the host at the same time, and (outside of Rikyū’s personal situation) for a reasonable cost (pieces of pottery were generally sold based on size at this time, and since most tea things are small, their prices -- at the outset -- were very low), could people begin to acquire several examples of each of the required utensils, and so begin to pick and choose -- and then devise “rules” governing what was suitable on different occasions, according to the weather and the guests being entertained.
In Shukō’s day, people assembled a single set of utensils, which contained one of each of the necessary things, so the idea of “tori-awase” (if they even used a name for the concept) could only guided their purchases; it was not a thought process that was employed when deciding which utensils to use when serving tea to people on any given occasion (if you have only one of each of the necessary utensils, then that is what you use). And this remained the usual state of things well into the sixteenth century.
When Shukō used a shin-nakatsugi or a recently-made chaire -- or a large karamono katatsuki or a precious ko-tsubo -- he did so because those were the only utensils he owned at that time. And as his finances improved (and as more and more of his contemporaries died without leaving heirs who were interested in practicing chanoyu, resulting in their collection of utensils being put up for sale), he was able to acquire successively better things. But as these new utensils entered his collection, the old things were given away or sold, rather than hoarded.
¹²Temmoku dōzen ni ashiwaruru ni ha [天目同前ニアシラハルヽニハ].
There is an odd feeling in the narrative here. Ido-chawan were certainly “inferior” to the temmoku bowls, but they were really not competitors for the same purpose in the system. Originally, while the temmoku (as “small chawan”) were used to prepare and serve the tea, the ido bowls were used as kae-chawan (the “large” chawan in which the chakin and chasen were carried into the room, and in which the chasen was cleaned at the end of the temae). Their functions were not interchangeable*.
Asserting that Shukō handled his the ido-chawan like a temmoku seems to be a misunderstanding of what Shukō actually did -- as discussed in sub-note “*” under the previous footnote.
Sometime between Shukō’s death and Jōō’s period a sort of wabi transformation did begin to occur†, where the pieces that had been neglected (for example, the bowls that had been used as kae-chawan) began to be used as main utensils, while the subsidiary positions were filled by newly-made pieces. But it is very unlikely that the change occurred any earlier than the early to middle sixteenth century. ___________ *Even when, as occasionally happened, the ido-chawan was used to serve tea, it was tea that was to be offered to the nobleman-guest’s attendants that was put into the ido-chawan -- people whose rank put them below consideration of the use of a temmoku -- never to the nobleman himself.
†Perhaps as the disparate threads of gokushin practice and wabi no chanoyu began to sort themselves out.
¹³Kanarazu natsume ・ ima-yaki nado no chaire [カナラズナツメ・今燒ナドノ茶入].
Kanarazu [必ず] means constantly, always.
However, there are several major difficulties with the narrative here:
- the natsume is said to have been created by Jōō (Rikyū states this several times in his writings), while Shukō is credited with creating the shin-nakatsugi, thus Shuko could not have used a natsume (Jōō was born the year that Shukō died); and,
- there were no such things as “ima-yaki chaire” -- in the sense of the word as it was used by Rikyū and Sōkei -- in Shukō’s day.
During Shukō’s lifetime (he died in 1502), chaire were not being made commercially -- there were no tea utensil shops in the marketplace comparable to what we know today (these kinds of firms came into existence in the Edo period). Potters traditionally focused on making things used in daily life, and starting to make pieces specifically for use in chanoyu (that were sold in the pottery market) only during the last couple of decades of Rikyū’s lifetime.
In the fifteenth century, if someone wanted to buy a newly made chaire, it had to be specially ordered from the potter (usually through direct consultation with the potter, with the purchaser explaining the details of the size and shape of the piece that he wanted); and while the cost might not have been very high (since the prices seem to have been based on the amount of space that each pot took up in the kiln), getting one required considerable effort (and probably a wait of up to a year or more, since most kilns were only fired at certain times of the year). People used contemporary chaire not because they were inexpensive alternatives to the imported pieces, but because that was all they could get (since trade with the continent had come to a stop in the fifteenth century, and most of the expatriate chajin -- who constituted the vast majority of practitioners in that period -- had escaped from the continent without the luxury of bringing their utensil collection, or their money, with them). Because these chaire were ordered by experienced chajin, the early Japanese-made pieces were similar enough with the continental originals that they were considered to be essentially their equals (such made-on-demand chaire had first appeared in Korea early in the fifteenth century) -- according to Rikyū -- and were to be handled in the same manner. Thus the condescension toward locally produced pieces expressed in this entry is anachronistic.
In Rikyū’s day, newly fired chawan were viewed in something resembling this manner because they were made to order, and easy to obtain (some of this has to do with the fact that when chawan became dirty, they were replaced: this had been the practice since antiquity, and the reason why chawan were always inferior to chaire -- which, like the cha-tsubo, were considered to improve the longer they were used). But newly made chaire were still acceptable, and perfectly suitable for use in chanoyu, though they were not held in the esteem accorded the earlier pieces (whether imported from the continent or made in Japan).
Using natsume as a general word for all lacquered tea containers (assuming that whomever wrote this knew that Shukō was actually associated with the shin-nakatsugi, rather than the natsume) was another convention that arose during the Edo period.
¹⁴Dasare-shi to nari [出サレシトナリ].
Dasare-suru [出されする] means to bring something out (for the first time), to start doing something.
In other words, while his contemporaries were still restricting themselves to elegant arrangements, Shukō started doing things differently -- by using distinctly wabi utensils during his service of tea.
The way this is written suggests a total ignorance with the actual historical development of wabi-no-chanoyu, and it is hard to accept that Nambō Sōkei would have been guilty of such anachronistic sentiments.
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