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#t: broadcast the boom boom boom.
n3ptoonz · 10 months
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mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react when you ride them
this broadcast is brought to you by getting inspired from @dirtymortalkombatconfessions tysm for fueling my raunchy mind 🙏🏾 outworld guys here
all the guys here are submissive in these hcs cause i don't see it enough!!! and reader is GN
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Smoke
first of all it's his favorite position. nothing he loves more than holding his partner in his arms while they have power over him at the same time
HE. WHIMPERS. A LOT!!!!
CANNOT keep his hands still he's always massaging or caressing some part of your body
begs. he begs. if you stop moving? he will deadass start tearing up and whispering pleas all in your ear
hold his face while you do it. look him in the eyes and give him praise && give him kisses 😔 he's got enough shit from bi han and this the only way he properly relaxes 💔
Raiden
he's not very vocal at first, but he does sigh and grunt a lot
when he's vocal? he's not loud, but curses up a storm. his eyes get all hazy and glossed over too like you gotta tap him back to reality sometimes
he can get handsy but prefers to either keep his hands in place or have them restrained in some way
speaking of which if you do restrain his hands there's a good chance he'll start bucking once he's close and try to pull free. silly goose, we know how to tie knots around here!
if you get really close to his face like holding it or just looking at him he can and will just start mumbling about how good you make him feel/how you're the only one who makes him feel like this
Kung Lao
(turns on self indulgence beam) ahem taps mic is this thing on??
lao is a praise kink BITCH you understand??? and since he's full of himself he for sure will not shy away from whimpering and groaning loud as hell just to hear his own voice
you give him praise and BOOM suddenly it's upturned eyebrows and beads of tears at the corners of his eyes. he will ask you to repeat what you said over and over
once his pride wears out he's a begging mess like smoke. he's super handsy but in the way where he's acting like you're gonna disappear before he nuts. i cracking up at the thought of that
afterwords "did i do good?" or "was i a good boy?" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHG hey im normal don't give me that look. ALSO PLAY WITH HIS HAIR he's a sucker for it (glad i can say that now he's not bald)(love you mk11 lao i swear)
Kenshi Takahashi
oooo this sensual romantic ass man. sensual romantic ASS man (he likes ass)
he's not a loud guy or it's just rare. his hands aren't gonna go anywhere but your ass though. MAYBE your thighs, but it's always back to ass!
less on whimpering more on grunting but there's occasional cracks in his voice when feels really good. he only full on whimpers if you go fast and gets closer faster from the pace
please for the love of god leave some sort of marks on this man's neck. it drives him CRAZYYYY he'll be cursing like he's never done before especially cause he WILL return the favor
like raiden if you give his face more love especially around his eyes it's up for him you're going to be told how perfect and how good only you can make him feel for the next 72 hours
Johnny Cage
BRAT. he's a brat. Johnny John Carlton Cage is a B R A T
you will have to physically shut him up and that was his mission accomplished. don't let his hands be free either cause he'll keep trying to take control (and keep failing every single time)(again, this was allll part of the plan)
when he's completely helpless at your disposal...bottom bitch alert! whiny whimpering grunting sighing giggling you name it CENTRAL. he the type to whine about being restricted when it was literally his own idea in the first place
he's a praise kink bitch too i mean come on THE johnny cage ik you weren't expecting otherwise. tell him he's a good boy but also call him your bitch oh how he loves it
and by the way... record. everything. he'll watch those tapes back like they're old school vhs memories
Liu Kang
how you got a god to submit to you is beyond anyone's belief. but who cares?! drain that mf (balls)
he absolutely positively loves loves LOVES eye contact. you look him in the eyes long enough it's like your souls are fuckin too (literally that scene with him and titan kitana except you're looking down at him everybodyshutthefuckup)
give him a bunch of kisses pls pls pls he craves it he adores it CARNALLY. very very handsy man there's no part of you that goes untouched.
he's too calm to be loud but he does grunt and will have dragged out moans that result in a higher pitched tone
surprise, even a god could use some praise every now and then!!! he blushes the most whenever you call him perfect or tell him he's doing great even with all that's on his plate on the daily <3
Sub Zero
this stubborn fucker. just pull his hair and give him the same look he gives everybody and he's all yours cause then he'll look like this (i cannot stop referring to this picture)
in the privacy of your shared room (idc if this is ooc this is tumblr god damn it) he's a stuttering mess and cannot keep his hands off your hips and thighs for anything so prepare for those areas to have frostbite
there are times where his hands slide up your back when he's close, and by this time his furrowed brows and sharp gaze are completely gone. he's looking up at you like you've descended just to give him the ride of his life (bc you did obviously)
if he whimpers it's raspy and deep. he generally grunts and groans and a lot of profane language coming from them lips
however comma it's rare he'll shudder and whine like a lil bitch if he can't touch you oooo and he's a bucker too
Scorpion
last but certainly not least this sexy mf. i fully fully believe that he would not hesitate to submit to someone he's in love with (you hahaha)
you don't even need to pull his hair just glide your fingers through it he's set for life. he sighs and just smiles, you're so good to him
he's not very vocal but he certainly whines and has shallower breaths when he's close. when he looks up at you he has to try his hardest not to bust right there cause damnnn you fine as hail
thigh man thigh man thigh man. oh, did i say thigh man? i meant to say HE'S A THIGH MAN. and neck, like kenshi don't even think about getting up off of him without a bunch of marks on his neck and shoulders if ya feelin freekie
if you pull his hair he will cum. and you heard that from me.
ask box is open! <3
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worldofkuro · 3 months
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How would S2 Alastor react to reader dying in a random, freak accident? Like, he’s just in the middle of his broadcast, and reader is walking to the studio from visiting the parents, and then boom!, accident! Would he immediately know that something was wrong, would he sense readers spirit leaving him? How insane would he get?
I can’t really tell much without spoiling about how their connection works. But Alastor would try to keep your soul no matter what, he would try to trap your soul into a doll, his wedding ring or Eamon… But he wouldn”t let you run away from him.
Alastor is way too proud, he wouldn’t kill himself because you left him. Oh non, please. He knew you were amazing, if he managed to capture your soul, he would feel so elated. You were finally his, no one but him would be able to talk to you, to feel you… but he would miss your touch. Feeling and touching are different after all.
If Baron Samedi took your soul, which meant you fell to Hell, he would try to find a way to communicate with you. He would, after months, years or searching, finally summon you. He would ask you about your wellbeing, how Hell was. You both would agree that you would start your ascension through Hell while he would give you sacrifice so you would get stronger. 
So when he finally goes down there to meet you, no one would ever think about separating you two again.  Which might be sooner than he expected, after your death he became a little too messy so… Let’s just say your husband would soon join you in Hell.
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theoperativeif · 1 year
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Ari (The Operative short story)
Here is the finish short story! I actually wrote the whole thing with the pronouns switched between Ari and 002, I needed to go back and correct it to make it fit the poll results. But I am so happy to have it finished! Feel free to let me know your thoughts on it.
Enjoy! <3 you all!
(Content warning, all warnings in The Operative demo apply to this as well!)
The specks of far-off stars dotted the viewport, an ethereal canvas of black and purple that seemed to stretch into infinity. No artist, however skilled, could have crafted such a perfect tableau.
"Admiral, the Emperor’s Herald is calling,” First Officer Gallo announced, his large frame eclipsing a swath of console lights. “Should I put it through?”
A hesitant glance swept across Admiral Anderson's crew—faces caught in a blend of darkness and eerie console glow. Custom dictated that a Herald's message be broadcast to the entire ship. But not this time.
“No, this is a private assembly,” Elia instructed, straightening her uniform as a screen unfurled before her, obscuring the cosmic tapestry.
The Imperial Anthem, a bombastic melody woven into the very fiber of her being, filled the ship. As it faded, metal walls isolated Elia from her crew. For a moment, she stood in encompassing darkness before finding herself surrounded by a grand chamber of marble stairs. Virtual figures of obscured Admirals and Generals stood beside her in this ritualistic gathering known as the Emperor's embrace—an event Elia usually avoided.
Slowly, she looked up to the throne above her, where a shadowy figure reclined. A second figure descended the stairs, coming into full view.
“Generals, Admirals, Leaders of the Empire," a voice boomed, blending martial roughness with Capitol sophistication. "The Emperor’s chosen voice, his Herald of guidance, will now address you.”
The Herald appeared—a lithe silhouette veiled in holographic stars and galaxies. As Elia locked eyes with two bright stars, a shiver crawled up her spine. Her own reflection in those stars was a haunting revelation, one that weighed heavily on her conscience.
"Elia," the Herald whispered with unsettling familiarity, "child, what do you wish to ask of the Emperor?”
“Only to thank him for his leadership and blessings,” Elia replied in a rehearsed tone, hearing echoed affirmations from her obscured colleagues.
“The Emperor is displeased with Vanern. They dishonor the very souls they owe him. Examples must be made,” the Herald intoned.
“We need to withdraw from the planet,” General Parcer interjected, his voice breaking the uneasy silence.
Elia winced. The General's defiance made her uncomfortable, yet also resonated with her own suppressed reservations. The general was an imposing figure, with a thinly trimmed mustache and long blue cloak behind him. 
“The Emperor commands you to hold the planet,” the Herald cautioned.
Several other Admirals voiced their concerns, echoing that of Parcer.
 
“What of you, Admiral Anderson?” The Herald's virtual fingers grazed Elia's cheek, adding an unsettling intimacy to the long look they gave her, “Is there not one soul brave enough to stay?”
General Parcer stepped back, a look of hurt pride on his face as he shook his head. Elia sensed the moment's significance—a junction of personal ambition and collective destiny. Her eyes met the Herald’s stars again, but now they shimmered with resolve.
"The Chemical Core and my Operatives can hold the line. If we win the skies, they can win on the ground. General, do you have the stomach for it?" she challenged.
Parcer hesitated, his eyes darting between the Herald and Elia, before exhaling a defeated sigh. "I pray you're right," he said, his voice tinged with resignation.
“The only power that matters is the Emperor’s,” the Herald declared, turning back to Elia with a nod. “Proceed with your plans.”
Five Months Later
The evening winds screamed over the southern plains just outside the city of Mulhat, like vengeful spirits mourning their losses. Once a site for thousands to enjoy the celestial lights, the plains were now a desolate tableau, inhabited only by the dead—or those resigned to join them soon. Six medium Imperial tanks rumbled down the roads, weaving through abandoned vehicles, shallow graves, and the occasional forsaken pet. Flanking and leading them were the remnants of the 7th, their rifles swinging from point to point as if desperate to find a target.
More than a third of them had unmarked armor, but it was caked with the mud of a long march. They were green. Ari frowned at the sight, his eyes narrowing beneath his helmet.
Perched atop the second tank, Ari wiped the dried blood off his helmet with swift, forceful strokes. Around him, no one spoke. What could they say? By some fluke, another day had passed without casualties. Yet an uneasy air hung thick, as if death had merely postponed its visit.
The lead tank juddered to a stop, and the rest of the column followed in an ordered sequence. Ari rolled off the side of his tank and landed softly on the mud-caked earth, eyes scanning as platoons fanned out in every direction.
From an armored carrier at the rear, Captain Carrington surveyed a map. Tall and bespectacled, his impeccable uniform seemed out of place next to his subordinates, whose attire bore the scars of ongoing conflict. Ari had felt uneasy when he took over the 7th two weeks ago; he was too young, his uniform too clean. The original officers had fallen during the first week of operations, leaving NCOs to improvise.
Carrington finally closed his map and approached Ari, a polished smile contrasting sharply with his mud-splattered armor. "Ahead is a town suspected of harboring a small Commonwealth presence," he said, never quite meeting his eyes. "Command wants it cleared and any arms seized from its citizens."
Ari's eyes flicked to the map Carrington was still clutching. 
He continued, "I want you to clear it for us. You leave immediately."
Ari stared at him, his gut tightening before he consciously willed himself to relax. This is what he was engineered for.
"Lieutenant Hammond of the Third Platoon interjected, stepping forward. "Sir, Ari's already cleared four towns this week. Maybe we can—"
Carrington cut him off with a glare, his plastic smile returning. "Nonsense. I have the utmost faith in Operative 005."
Ari winced. Hammond had no reason to draw the ire of their greenhorn commander. He gave him a nod of appreciation. His thoughts retreated to his past, to his "mother's" incessant instruction and the tales from 002 about honorable warriors. Tales that now seemed like childish fantasies. He was a soldier. He would obey.
The town that awaited Ari was a mere ten miles up the road—a modest industrial outpost framed by skeletal factories on either side. Once bustling centers of production, they were now hollowed-out relics, victims of the relentless artillery that rained from above.
Ari peered through his rifle scope, his eyes hardened behind the dark visor. The forest that once provided cover had been reduced to smoldering embers and blackened stumps, leaving an unforgiving mile of barren terrain between the town's outskirts and the nearest semblance of shelter.
He had challenged Captain Carrington on his tactics. "How do you expect me to approach the town without cover?" The Captain's response had been a disconcerting smile and a vague assurance: "I'm confident you'll manage."
Suppressing a sigh, Ari activated his suit's cloaking device. A shimmering ripple enveloped his armor, harmonizing with the charred landscape behind him. As he advanced, his suit's sensors fed him real-time data: the air was thick with smoke, but mercifully free of chemical or biological threats. "Good," he thought, recalling a nightmarish scenario where an entire town's air filtration had failed, asphyxiating its inhabitants. He could have easily been one of those children, had fate dealt him a different hand.
His thoughts wandered, as they often did, to questions of origin. Had he come from a lush, verdant world? Or maybe a frozen wasteland? He smiled beneath his visor, imagining a little 002 thriving in a harsh, unforgiving environment. He had always ensured he would too. He was a warrior Ari could only dream of matching.
But not now. Not when 002 was at the frontlines, and he was stuck under the command of an inexperienced captain, showcased like a trophy weapon. He had obeyed his orders dutifully, wading through skirmishes while he observed from a safe distance, his eyes twinkling in unsettling fascination.
He was an instrument of war, and the Captain was merely using him as intended. Yet, a nagging sensation of being wasted gnawed at him. He imagined his "Mother" laughing at him inner turmoil—a cruel, mirthless laugh that echoed in his mind.
Just as he reached the fringes of the town, his steps faltered. A shallow ditch caught his eye. Inside lay five bodies—two women and three men, faces down, their skulls shattered by bullets.
Death had been quick at least.
Grimacing, Ari skirted past the ditch and crept along the side of a nearby building. Its facade bore signs of conflict, scarred by bullets that may have been fired from makeshift firearms.
Taking cover behind some empty supply crates near the corner of the building Ari turned off the cloaking field, letting it recharge for a few minutes in silence. 
The wind blew, howling for a moment before settling into silence without any response. 
Then Ari heard it. A boot stepping on metal with a fairly heavy thump. Too heavy, Ari thought, slowly raising his rifle and pointing it against the wall of the building. Turning his cloak back on he let his armor scan the building. Noting the fuzziness of the screen he waited. 
Some fireteams would carry a scrambler with them to black out a building from an outside fireteams sensors. It was effective except for one issue. A blacked out building also revealed their location.
Ari guessed there must be  at least five inside, if there was more then a fire team others would most likely join in after the fight had started.
 
Ari waited until he heard the last bootstep, then pulled the trigger. With a loud bang his rifle fired easily through the wall, a loud metal ping sounded as he discharged the large casing as she rolled to the side. 
A hail of bullets fired through the walls of the shelter. He could imagine each path as time slowed before he let off two more well placed shots.
In a matter of four seconds it was silent. 
Breathing heavily Ari waited. Satisfied at the lack of noise Ari moved around, peeking out towards the road running in front of the building. If there were more soldiers here they were doing a good job of not revealing themselves. If they were there Ari didn’t intend to give them the satisfaction of spotting him. 
Placing two breach charges on the wall Ari circled around towards the back door. Keying the keypad he opened it, carefully monitoring his sensors. 
Room by room he swept, noting the three bodies, large holes blown threw their personal armor, blood coating the metal fragments. Commonwealth Soldiers, he noted from the insignia’s on their shoulders. Bending down he lightly pushed one, noting the armor had been fused together in a custom repair job.
Interesting. he thought, wondering if the Commonwealth was as low on supplies as their Imperial foes were. 
He heard the faintest scuff of a boot on flooring. 
Diving to the side he barely missed the sword that embedded itself in the floor, it was large with an ornate looking handle. A tall soldier with a curved armored helmet pulled it out of the floor. Standing nearly as tall as him it looked almost like an Operative. A Commonwealth knight. He thought cautiously. Not enhanced. He noted the more clumsy movements.
It raised the sword, pointing it at him in a challenge as several Commonwealth soldiers filed in behind it. 
Not waiting, Ari opened fire, letting off two rounds. 
The first slammed into the large soldier's helmet, skimming off of it in a wave of sparks. The second blew through the next soldier before continuing on to blow the leg off of his comrade behind him. 
There were shouts as Ari rushed behind a wall, bullets striking the space she had just been in.
Calmly aiming at the front door he fired a single round through it, a cry of pain sounding from outside. 
Calmly picking the Commonwealth soldiers off with precise shots he, looked around as the wall behind him exploded. Light pops of gunfire outside sounding. 
He ducked under the sword of the imposing knight. The next swing he blocked with his rifle, the blade digging into it. The Knights free gloved hand shot out, gripping Ari’s throat in an iron embrace.
Drawing his knife he plunged it in the small gap in the suit by his abdomen, ripping upwards in an arc, warm blood coating his hand.
His armor growled, reinforcing his strength as he tossed Ari across the room. His Rifle clattered to the floor as he gasped for air. 
The Knight stumbled, holding the wound. 
Flipping the knife over in his hand Ari circled him, making a feint he got him to raise his sword with one hand. Dodging under it he stabbed two more times, once into his armpit and another into the gap on his other side. 
He cried out, his armor unable to make up for his failing limbs as he dropped to his knees. The sword clattering to the ground.
Ari walked over, picking his rifle up and quickly checking it over. 
Satisfied he stuck the barrel underneath his helmet and fired a single shot. 
Blood splattered his face as the helmet was thrown off the knights head. 
He sighed, turning and eventually finding the jamming device in the house. 
He would clear four more holdouts in the town. Around fifty soldiers in total when he was finished. He sat near the front of the town, cleaning his wounds as the tanks finally crested one of the hills, the marines slowly making their way over to him. 
Fireteams passed him silently, sweeping through the buildings long since cleared. 
Captain Carrington sat calmly on the last tank as it rolled into town, stepping off of it his boots sank awkwardly into the muddy ground. Ari gently grabbed his arm, keeping him upright, a thought crossing his mind to let the kid fall. 
He looked at Ari with a strange mix of embarrassment and anger before shaking his grip off. 
“I see you dealt with things adequately enough,” he said, looking back at the tank commander whose head was silently peering out front the top hatch, “get your tanks under some cover, camouflage the ones you can’t get under the overhangs, the Commonwealth might still be sweeping this area with some ground attack aircraft.”
 
The tank commander nodded, the tank's engine roaring as it was slowly guided by a marine between two buildings and a large camo net was thrown over it. 
“Confiscate any communications devices the locals might be in possession of, can’t have them specifying coordinates.”
Ari looked at some of the townspeople with a critical eye. They wore simple clothes, worn and obviously in need of replacement. He walked over to a graying man who had claimed the role as the town's representative. 
“There is a grave towards the front of town, who were they?” Ari asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. The man held his gaze, his eyes worn and haunted before shaking his head. 
“A family, they objected when a soldier took their daughter for an,” he hesitated, “interrogation.” 
They stood in silent understanding. Such things were common.
 
“We are here to help,” Ari said finally, looking at the man, “I’m Ari.” 
“Antonio,” the man said with a practiced smile, “you will forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. Those soldiers said the same thing when they came.”
“You are Imperial citizens,” Ari objected, “we would never hope to-”
A shot rang out from somewhere towards the edge of town, Ari looked out as birds scattered from where they had been peering atop buildings. When he turned back to Antonio he saw the man's expression had gone dark with a hint of disappointment before passing him and rushing off towards the gunshot. 
Captain Carrington meanwhile paid the gunshot no mind, instead choosing some lodging for the night from a selection of still intact shelters. Ari started to head towards the commotion but stopped as he was waived by the Captain to follow. 
Staring down the street as a young man was dragged by two soldiers out into the street Ari hesitated before slowly following after the young Captain. Two gunshots followed. Military caliber. Ari noted silently as a woman's screams of grief replaced the silence. 
The Captain arranged with an old woman to ‘rent’ one of her guest rooms, with arrangements for breakfast and coffee in the morning. The woman smiled a merchant's smile, practiced and precise, but Ari noticed the daggers glinting in the dim light as she watched the Captain’s men unload his personal effects into the room. 
Ari eventually was allowed to leave without so much as a word said between them. He would be told by a sergeant that a young man whose father was in the Commonwealth army had stowed away a small firearm and had shot one of the officers in the neck. The officer had lived, sporting a bandaged neck by the time Ari finally saw him. The boy on the other hand had been dealt with quickly, his mother given a small sum of money to compensate her. 
Ari found himself wondering if he should step in, this boy was obviously unfit to command this unit in pitched combat. Let alone his inability to keep control of the green recruits who looked like they had been plucked straight from the street corners of the red light district. 
Ari was shown to his own quarters, a tent hastily erected and guarded by two soldiers, each holding a rifle. It was as if he were both a valued asset and a potential threat.
After changing into a simple shirt and pants, Ari reached for his worn sketchbook and pencil. He took a moment to center himself. Closing his eyes, he thought back to a single, beautiful tree they had passed twenty miles back—a stark contrast to the desolation around his. With gentle strokes, he began sketching the tree's every leaf and branch. As he breathed in deeply, he could almost smell the earth and hear the rustle of leaves, a brief refuge from the harsh reality he faced.
He paused and flipped through the sketchbook's filled pages, each a snapshot of a lost moment or a lingering hope. His eyes stopped at one of his earliest drawings. It was a young woman, her face peaceful yet filled with determination. He felt a lump form in his throat and pressed the drawing against his chest as if trying to absorb its essence.
002, the second Operative created by Mother, had always been his sanctuary in the labyrinth of darkness they called home. He remembered their stolen moments, sitting side by side, staring up at the artificial stars above the lab. While 002 was a girl of few words, her smiles spoke volumes. They were like tiny rebellions, showing a sense of wonder and inner freedom. Ari dared to hope—still hoped—that he occupied some corner of her dreams as well.
She had always been in mine, he thought, his finger tracing the contours of the drawing. Last he heard, she had been deployed somewhere on this war-ravaged planet. A bittersweet hope clung to him; perhaps fate would cross their paths once more.
Just then, one of the guards interrupted his reverie. "Visitor for you, Lieutenant Hammond."
Snapping back to reality, Ari quickly hid the sketchbook under his pillow. "Come in," he called.
Lieutenant Hammond entered, his burly frame barely fitting through the tent flap. His face was etched with a mixture of concern and internal conflict. "What he's doing isn't fair to you," he blurted out, almost as if he couldn't hold it in any longer.
Ari's eyes shifted nervously to the tent flap. "Is this the time or place for this conversation?"
"They agree with me," Hammond reassured, his voice tinged with urgency. "Those of us who've seen enough know this is wrong. You're more than just a weapon—you're one of the Emperor's Chosen Children."
Ari's lips quivered for a moment before he steeled himself. "I am just a weapon," he replied, echoing the cold words that Mother had etched into his very soul. "I exist to die for the Empire, in any way my superiors see fit."
"That's no way to live," Hammond argued, his eyes softening, revealing a paternal concern.
"Operatives don't live; we merely exist between missions," Ari retorted, bitterness lacing his words.
"Don't say that," Hammond insisted, his eyes imploring. "You deserve more, so much more."
Tears welled up in Ari's eyes, but he blinked them back. I am the Emperor's weapon; that's all I will ever be, he reminded himself, fighting back his emotions.
"I'll report the Captain to high command," Hammond declared, getting up from his chair with a newfound resolve.
"No," Ari said softly but firmly, stopping him in his tracks.
Hammond turned, an incredulous look on his face. "No?"
"Do it if you must, but not for me," Ari clarified, his voice tinged with resignation. "If you believe he's a danger to you and your men, report him. But he's just using the resources given to him. I am that resource." As he spoke, he wished he could make himself believe his own words; perhaps then the weight he carried would be a little lighter.
Hammond stared at him, bewildered and heartbroken. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and exited the tent, leaving Ari alone with his thoughts.
Retreating to his cot, Ari took a deep, shuddering breath. He lay there in the suffocating silence until sleep finally claimed him, bringing with it the haunting dreams that were his constant companions.
Ari opened his eyes to find himself atop a haunting hill, overlooking a forest that seemed almost alive in its dark expanse. The twisted carcasses of tanks and spaceships lay strewn about the hillside like the skeletal remains of fallen giants. Piles of bodies marked the midpoint of the hill, their positions suggesting they'd collapsed against an invisible force field. Ancient ruins clawed their way up from the base of the hill, their tendrils of stone and metal as if reaching for something lost.
Further up the hill, a sparse selection of bodies lay in disarray. He didn't recognize any of them; they were all strangers, perhaps souls who'd been pulled into this morbid tableau against their will.
"Just us, it seems, hmm?" A voice whispered from behind him, chilling him to the bone.
He pivoted, his breath catching in his throat. An enormous, ethereal beam of light shot upwards, splattering the sky in a surreal blend of purple and green. Between him and this spectacle stood a lone figure.
001—the original Operative. It was a monstrous vision, devoid of any shred of humanity, encased in an unholy fusion of bone and silver-colored armor. Its helmet wrapped around his head, with two jagged armor plates that met in a mesh, pulsating like some insectoid maw. Two malevolent, glowing green eyes bored into his very soul.
"Disappointed?" 001 sneered, as if savoring his reaction. "You wouldn't think something like that of 002."
"She is nothing like you," Ari managed, his voice quivering as he took a step back.
"She is exactly like me," 001 cackled, a malevolent sound that made the hill beneath them tremble. "I paved the way for all that is to come. Don't delude yourself. She's walking the same path, right behind me. And so are you."
Ari's breath hitched. No, they were wrong; 002 was nothing like this abomination. She was kind, she was heroic, and above all, she cared about him.
"I cared about someone, too, once," 001 said, its voice suddenly hollow, almost wistful. In a blinding flash, it closed the gap between them, gripping him by the neck and hoisting him into the air like a ragdoll. "Want to know what became of that love? What he will one day do to you?"
Ari's eyes snapped open. He was back in his cot, drenched in cold sweat. His hands shot to his throat; it was untouched, yet the sensation of that iron grip remained. He sank back into his cot, his eyes clenched shut, his heart pounding in his chest. It had felt unbearably, terrifyingly real.
Then again, it always did.
Ari wiped away tears that he hadn't realized he'd shed, and reached for his sketchbook lying next to him. Could his longing for decency be just a child's fantasy? No, it couldn't be.
There was a commotion outside, shouts of anger and one of terror. Ari jumped from his cot, snatching his rifle easily off its rack and rushing outside. His two guards had their rifles at the ready and quickly fell into step with his. Captain Carrington exited his own quarters, a look of bewilderment on his face as he wrapped a brown cloak around his sleep attire. 
Several marines were aiming their weapons at a group of townspeople who held a marine with a knife to his throat. On the ground was a woman, her face bruised, crying and shaking, beside her was a marine, a gunshot wound through his chest.
“Lower your weapons god damn it!” Carrington ordered, his voice not carrying the order properly over the chaos.
“Lower your weapons now!” Ari ordered, his voice carrying easily as the marines obeyed, shouldering their firearms. 
Carrington cast an unreadable look towards him before focusing back on the marines and townspeople. 
“What's the meaning of this?” He asked, looking expectantly at his marines. 
“Your man drunkenly attacked one of our women,” Antonio said, a dark look on his face as he glared at the young Captain, “when his comrade intervened he shot him!”
Ari’s fingers tapped his combat knife, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. 
“Is this true?” Carrington looked at the sergeant who looked down before nodding his head.
“Seems to be Captain, luckily people intervened,” the Sergeant looked down shamefully, two other veterans nodded their heads, though several objections were raised by several of the younger marines. 
Captain Carrington seemed lost for a moment, looking between the townspeople, their faces filled with a mixture of anger and expectation and his marines who seemed disappointed he would even consider taking the townsfolk side. 
“Take him in front of my quarters,” Carrington said quietly, waving for the marines to take him, “whats, whats his name?”
“Private Summers Sir,” the Sergeant replied simply.
The man holding the marine at knife point lowered the blade, allowing the two closest marines to grab both of his arms.
The two groups followed the Captain back to his quarters. Ari followed him inside quietly. He watched as he suddenly started shaking as he searched through his makeshift work desk, scattering papers and data pads across it. He seemed to be searching for something specific. 
He eventually found it, reading over something on his datapad. He read some parts out loud, but only in pieces.
“If a soldier in his service should…”
“Discretion of commanding officer…”
“Carried out by company…”
Afterwards he pulled up the accused man's military record, he tapped on several other incidents reported.
He shakily put the pad down, hanging his head with a loud sigh before straightening himself and walking back outside. 
He walked over to the Sergeant, speaking quietly so the townspeople could not hear him.
“Sergeant, tie him to that post over there,” Captain Carrington said, drawing his pistol and examining it carefully, he was pale now. His hand barely able to properly secure the weapon, he looked at his marines doing his best to make his voice strong, “we are the Emperor’s marines, we conduct ourselves according to the Imperial Codex of War, and any breaking of that should result in a tribunal of the accused. However when one commits such an act in a warzone and may endanger the lives of others the commanding officer may carry out an execution.”
The townspeople had gone silent, meanwhile whispers and grumbling broke out among the marines. Lieutenant Hammond and the Sergeant quickly quelled the murmurs, their own opinions hidden behind  serious faces. 
Private Summers struggled against the two marines dragging him, “fuck you Captain, you spineless piece of shit!” 
The Captain had gone silent, pistol gripped in his hand. Once the man was tied to the post the Captain raised his pistol, and nothing. The Captain’s hand was shaking as he gripped the pistol. Silence had fallen over the area. 
The private, perhaps sensing the Captain’s weakness, began to silently sneer in contempt.
Ari flexed his hands, looking at the Captain before slowly looking over the crowd. If he didn’t carry out his declared sentence now not only would the town scorn them but the marines under his command would be even more likely to commit acts against the populace. 
His mothers voice popped into his head. One of the instructions given to an Operative was to be the weapon at their betters disposal. Perhaps the Captain was overlooking him as an option.
He took several steps forward to be beside the Captain before leaning over, “I would be honored to carry out the sentence.” 
The Captain spun on him, eyes flashing anger before he noticed the doubting faces of the crowd around them. Something else flashed in his eyes as he looked between Ari and the private. Ari blinked in surprise, was that hatred he saw?
“Yes, I think that would be better,” the Captain said, raising his head in a failed attempt at maintaining dignity as he handed the pistol to Ari, “once in the head please.” 
Ari turned, squeezing the trigger and firing a single round straight through the mans skull. He slumped instantly, with Ari nodding in satisfaction at the shot. He handed the pistol back to the Captain who merely stared at him. 
“Everyone disperse!” Lieutenant Hammond bellowed as he turned to the crowd.
After that fateful evening, an eerie silence settled over the town for the next few days. However, on the fourth day, the tranquility was shattered when a sealed communique arrived for the Captain. Ari and Hammond received orders to report to the Captain's quarters immediately. As they approached the worn wooden door, Ari thanked the elderly homeowner who greeted them with a resigned smile before opening the door.
Stepping inside, they found themselves in a room heavy with the scent of tobacco and aged leather. The Captain sat at his worn desk, the dim glow from a desk lamp illuminating his pale face as he fixated on a datapad.
Ari felt a knot tighten in his stomach, and he exchanged a puzzled look with Hammond before the Captain looked up and acknowledged their presence.
"The 14th and 9th have been annihilated in a counteroffensive. We're being rotated to the front lines to support the 22nd," he disclosed, his voice tinged with an anguish that he couldn't hide. "New officers are coming in to take the 7th from me."
A mix of dread and anticipation filled the room. Hammond, trying to cut through the tension, chimed in. "Well, at least our boys will finally see some heavy combat. I'll get the officers assembled."
With a curt nod, Hammond exited, leaving Ari alone in the stifling atmosphere of the room. The Captain leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long, shaky breath before breaking into an unsettling laugh.
"You planned this somehow," he slurred, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid from under the table and taking a defiant swig. "Your kind always finds a way to win, don't they?"
"Sir, I don't understand," Ari said cautiously, flinching as the bottle flew past his face, shattering against the dark wooden wall and leaving a wet stain.
"Don't feign innocence. From day one, you've played the role of the shining warrior, haven't you?" His eyes narrowed, and he staggered to his feet, gripping the edge of the table for support. "All along, you've been subtly undermining me. Turning my men and this town against me. Your entire kind is just twisted, isn't it?"
Ari felt his pulse quicken, his mouth going dry. In a moment of candid emotion, he retorted, "You've done that yourself."
As the words escaped his lips, Ari froze. Why had he said that? What would happen now?
The Captain stared at him, and for a fleeting moment, Ari thought he saw a glimmer of realization cross his eyes—but then it was gone, replaced by an even deeper darkness.
“You,” he snarled uselessly as he sat back in his chair, “get out of my sight monster.” 
Several hours later they had set off, leaving the town behind them.
Ari reclined in his seat as the armored transport rumbled inexorably toward the frontline. Streams of civilians—the collateral damage of war—fled in the opposite direction. Their faces were etched with haunted expressions that Ari knew he'd remember for a lifetime. A few children, perhaps too young to grasp the gravity of their situation, waved at the passing soldiers. Ari mustered a smile and waved back, but his eyes couldn't help but shift to the metamorphosing landscape outside.
Once verdant fields and dense, peaceful forests were now marred by the scars of war. What had once resembled a pastoral painting was now more akin to a nightmarish hellscape. The earth was gouged open, as if it too had suffered wounds, with mud oozing out like brown, coagulated blood. Deep trenches dissected the land, and the carcasses of tanks and even entire aircraft lay sunken in the mire, forgotten monuments to failed human endeavor.
The landscape brought an unbidden thought to the forefront of his mind: What hell had 002 been enduring out here? A wave of guilt washed over him, complicating his earlier feelings of dissatisfaction with his assignment. He had been pouting about his orders, resenting his inexperienced Captain, and feeling underutilized. But was he not, at that very moment, headed toward the place he felt he should be? A place where he could be of real use? And yet, even that idea felt tinged with a selfish desire—to find 002, to ensure he was alright, to fight by his side just like they had in what felt like another lifetime.
Ari closed his eyes briefly, wrestling with the confusing medley of emotions that churned within him. He felt a strange amalgam of guilt for wanting more action, worry for the woman who had always stood by him, and a newfound, unsettling empathy for the people whose lives had been upturned by this war.
His eyes widened further as they drove past the artillery units. Mammoth cannons, engineering marvels that belied their grim purpose, launched rocket-assisted shells that could traverse several hundreds of miles. The ground itself seemed to tremble with the concussive force of each shot, sending a primal shiver down Ari's spine.
Adjacent to the artillery were the repair units, swarming with engineers and technicians. They buzzed around damaged fighter craft, each a casualty of the dangerous aerial ballet occurring far above them. Sparks flew, welding torches flared, and the scent of hot metal filled the air as these units labored to return their birds to the sky, and into the maw of the ongoing conflict.
Inside the transport, the atmosphere had become thick with tension. Ari looked around and noticed the stark transformation in his comrades. The new recruits, previously flushed with the naïve excitement of youth, had turned ashen. Their eyes darted nervously, and their faces held a greenish tint, as if the reality of war had settled in their stomachs and was threatening to come back up.
As if on cue, their own artillery began its relentless cacophony. The initial hiss of rockets and shells slicing through the air resonated in the confined space, cutting through the tension like a knife. Several marines flinched visibly, their eyes widening and jaws tightening.
For a split second, the sounds vanished, swallowed by the void before them, leaving an eerie silence. Then, the far-off booms reached their ears, each explosion a ghostly echo that seemed to reverberate in the very marrow of their bones.
Ari remained silent as the transport finally crossed the final miles to arrive at the front. 
Hopping out, Ari turned, pausing to look above. Hundreds of ships, small shapes far above were visible, dashes of light flashing as the two fleets far above battled. Hundreds of streaks of light were across the sky, rockets striking all parts of the battlefield around him. 
And what a horrible sight it was, miles of mud, pockets of water and black dirt kicked up at random without the faintest hint of green to be seen. In between the dark mud, smaller pockets of light lit up as gunfire and laserfire intermixed, smoke constantly rolling over the entire area as far as Ari’s eyes could see. 
Ari and the 7th crossed even more miles only just beginning to approach the front. A constant stream of dead or dying soldiers were carried past them on stretchers, the cries and explosions intermixing into a chorus rising up all around them. The sound felt suffocating, as if it was closing around Ari’s throat. Overhead fighters flew past, firing into positions they couldn’t see. Some were hit by flak, rolling over and hitting the ground in a faint explosion. 
Somewhere far off something exploded, shaking the very ground so much so that soldiers lost their footing, collapsing to the floor. 
Miles off to their right Ari could see the glowing green wave of chemical smoke crashed over a Commonwealth position. Ari fiddled with his mask, making sure its filtration was functioning correctly.  
  
Marines marched back past them with cracked armor, missing limbs and some missing most of their armor entirely. The looks on their faces were haunted, young men and women with lines now aging their faces beyond recognition. 
The Imperial defensive positions were layered in four overlapping lines. Two lines carefully positioned in the center had a shock group backed by two battalions of marines positioned seventy yards behind them. Behind that reserve was an enormous trench nearly fifty yards wide and several miles long. Smaller transports could reposition behind the lines without exposing themselves to fire. 
To the right and left were the other two lines of troops, these dug in defensive positions with multiple overlapping fields of fire nearly across the entire line. Some positions even had tanks sunk up to their turrets to provide a sort of pillbox support. Further past the lines were hundreds of scattered foxholes serving as forward posts to delay enemy advances.
In front of all of them was the target the generals coveted. The city of Proko. Its ruins were barely visible in the distance through the haze. 
Imperial bombardment had long since brought the once towering skyscrapers down. 
Ari ducked as a violent explosion shattered the air, hurling a forty-foot-wide wave of mud skyward before it came crashing down like a filthy rain. Amid the chaos, Ari could hear the grotesque sound of mud mixed with human remains slapping back onto the earth—punctuated by the grinding of armored vehicles repositioning. Shouts of agony and confusion erupted all around him.
Nearby, an officer stumbled through the mire, his eyes glazed over with shock, his arm missing from the elbow down. He frantically dug through the mud, sifting through an indistinguishable blend of earth and human remains.
"I lost my ring," he mumbled, his eyes unfocused as though seeing through time itself. "Can't lose that. Can't lose that."
The words struck Ari like a bullet.
With a wave of his hand, Ari signaled a corpsman. "Stay with me," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on the disoriented soldier's shoulder. "We'll take care of you first, then we'll find your ring."
A glimmer of relief passed through the soldier's eyes as the corpsman arrived, directing them toward the medical tent. Ari's armor made light work of the injured man's weight. As he carried him, his eyes remained peeled on the churned earth they traversed.
After laying him carefully on a cot in the medical tent, Ari turned away, his chest heavy with a sense of inadequacy. He was trained to be an Operative—to fight, to survive, but moments like these reminded him of the limitations of his role.
Unable to let go of the soldier's distress, Ari decided to make one more sweep of the battlefield, assisting medics in carrying another wounded soldier back to the tent. Each face he encountered was a blur, but his mission was clear. Amidst the rubble and remains, his eyes caught a glint of metal. Bending down, he unearthed a mud-caked ring.
Ari returned to the medical tent, hope welling up in him as he approached the soldier, who was now being attended to by medics. He placed the ring into his remaining hand, closing his fingers around it.
His eyes met Ari’s, filled with a complex mix of relief, sorrow, and something indescribable. For the first time that day, Ari felt a tiny fracture in the wall of helplessness that had encased him.
"Thank you," he whispered, clutching the ring as if it were his very soul.
Ari nodded, swallowing hard against the emotional lump in his throat. "Hang on to it.”
Eventually, Ari caught up with the 7th, a battalion now rotated up to occupy the first line of defense—or offense, depending on the ever-shifting tides of battle. The 7th was the vanguard, the first to either storm enemy lines or hold their ground against an incoming assault. Even in the cloak of night, squads from the 7th began to disperse, their forms almost spectral as they waded through the mud-cloaked nightmare, reinforcing the foxholes that served as crucial early-warning posts.
But the night was deceptive, never truly dark. It was a canvas incessantly invaded by artificial light, robbing soldiers of the cover darkness might have provided. Flares arced into the sky at irregular intervals, their fizzling ascents followed by an eruption of glaring light that rendered the landscape in sharp, ominous relief. Star shells burst overhead, showering the earth in iridescent hues of blue and white, turning mud puddles into tiny, reflective lakes and casting eerie, elongated shadows on the faces of the troops. Explosions from artillery and grenades added their own erratic lighting, a pyrotechnic display that would have been mesmerizing if not for its blinding effects. These detonations painted the scene in flashes of orange, imbuing everything and everyone with a surreal, otherworldly glow. The intermittent lighting made the mud seem like a flowing river of lava one moment and a desolate lunar landscape the next.
During one of those blinding bursts of light from overhead flares, a piercing alarm cut through the cacophony. Soldiers jolted from their positions, their faces twisted with a blend of readiness and terror. Ari snatched up his rifle, his senses sharpening as he took his position behind an armored shield that topped the trench.
Through the slotted visor, he saw it—something monstrous darting between the foxholes. It was immense, nearly as long as two tanks laid end-to-end, its long tail shimmering in silver and blue light. An advanced Commonwealth warbot, its body like that of a dragon. His gut clenched as bullets pinged off its metallic hide. In retaliation, the warbot whirled, letting loose a barrage of mini-rockets that silenced the foxholes in a spectacle of fire and gore. The screams that followed were guttural, filled with a primal fear that rattled even the most hardened soldiers around him.
But what sent shivers down Ari's spine was the figure mounted atop the warbot. Clad in shining armor of silver and blue that matched its monstrous steed, the knight-like figure sported a single twisted metal horn on his helmet. He brandished a spear, its shaft alive with undulating lights of green, blue, and red. It looked as though it were forged from nightmares and technology, giving it an ethereal yet sinister aura.
The 7th and 22nd opened fire alongside others, tracer rounds arcing through the night, illuminated by the perpetual light show. But they might as well have been firing pebbles. Ari watched as the bullets merely bounced off, as harmless as raindrops. He took aim at the rider, his sights focused on a vulnerable spot between the arm and breastplate. He pulled the trigger.
A brilliant flash erupted, and the rider was hurled from the warbot, tumbling through the air before landing in the mud with a sickening thud.
For a moment, Ari allowed himself a brief grin. But it was short-lived. With a mechanical roar that seemed to shake the very earth, the warbot surged forward, its limbs churning the mud as if it were water. Soldiers screamed, scrambling in a panic, some trapped in the slick mire as the monstrous machine lunged into the trench.
Ari threw himself back just in time, the beast landing where he had stood just moments before. Its mechanical eyes glowed a menacing red, scanning for its next target. Around him, soldiers from the 7th  froze, the horror of what they faced rendering them momentarily paralyzed.
A deafening burst of gunfire erupted from the 22nd Marines, snapping the immobilized soldiers out of their trance. The warbot spun on its axis, extending long blades from its chassis. In an instant, the trench transformed into a grisly blender, whirling metal through air and flesh.
Ari executed a rapid roll, squeezing the trigger to fire rounds into the beast's exposed joints. A nearby flak gun swiveled, its operator focusing on the warbot. With thunderous thunks, the gun spat flak rounds into the behemoth's side.
For a split second, the warbot wavered under the relentless barrage. But then the flak gun fell silent. Whirling around, Ari cursed—he saw the knight, now on foot, finishing off the last member of the flak crew. He vaulted into the trench beside him.
Darting backward, Ari dodged his whirling spear. Then he switched tactics, drawing a pistol and snapping off two shots. His armor absorbed the bullets, but he felt the impact like a sledgehammer to his chest.
Behind him, the warbot's roars resounded, mingling with the screams of dying soldiers. Firing his rifle, Ari targeted the knight's leg, bringing him to one knee. With a quick lunge, he overpowered him, forcing the spear against his throat. Metal shrieked against metal; his suit whined, struggling to compensate for his superior strength.
Suddenly, a searing pain erupted in his shoulder. Metallic jaws clamped down, wrenching him away. Ari unleashed a furious scream, his hands clawing at the warbot's maw.
The knight rose, his spear poised for the kill. But then he froze. Ari, too, heard it—the ground-shaking rumble, like a tank but deeper, angrier. The warbot released him, turning to face the new threat.
Ari scrambled aside just as a brilliant flash rocketed past him. It struck the knight, hurling him through the air before he crashed into the muck. His heart leapt—standing there was 002, encased in hulking battle armor, the gauntlets of her suit still smoking.
Cheers erupted from the soldiers. Their elation, however, was cut short. The warbot lunged at 002, its gaping maw aiming to devour her. But it was halted mid-air, its jaws pried open by 002's immense strength.
Marines of the 22nd wheeled the flak gun back into position, aiming directly into the warbot's vulnerable spots as 002 held it in place and firing at point-blank range. The knight had regained his footing and hurled his spear, skewering two marines. Unfazed by their losses, the crew kept firing. Seizing the moment, Ari lunged at the knight, tackling him into the slippery mud.
With a feral snarl, Ari unleashed a punch that shattered the knight's visor. Staggering, he tried to regain his stance. But before he could move, his own spear flew through the air, sticking him to the ground like a gruesome butterfly pinned to a board.
Silence fell over the trench, periodically interrupted by cries from the wounded. Soldiers from the reserve trench behind them quickly poured into the area, preparing for a possible follow up attack. 
Ari stood silently over the Knight body. He had been stronger than any knight he had fought before. He heard 002 approaching behind him and shivered, 001’s words echoing in his mind. 
She is exactly like me. They had said. 
No, Ari thought, feeling his heart tighten in both anticipation and fear as 002 stopped right behind him. 
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
"You did well," she finally said, her voice tinged with a metallic resonance from her helmet.
Ari almost laughed as he turned around. "Well? Two minutes later, and the whole trench would've been a graveyard."
002 removed her helmet, revealing a face that was as stoic as her armor. Her eyes met his. "But it isn't. That's what matters."
She reached out, her gauntleted hand heavy on his shoulder where the warbot had clamped its jaws. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such a massive suit of armor. "You're hurt."
Ari shrugged, trying to downplay the soreness that was now settling in. "We’ve been through worse."
For a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—relief, maybe, or concern. But it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Instead she gestured with her head for him to follow. 
The medic wrapped up Ari's wound and declared him fit to continue, 002 watched him, her face unreadable. The fluorescent lights in the medical tent seemed to bathe everything in a cold, sterile glow, but the atmosphere changed perceptibly when she led him outside.
The officers' quarters were a far cry from luxury, dug directly into the muddy earth and consisting of little more than a cot and a small desk. The walls were reinforced with corrugated metal, lending a harsh industrial feel to the space. Yet, when Ari turned around, he was surprised to find 002 still standing at the entrance.
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, an unusual display for someone who usually radiated certainty. Then she placed her helmet on a makeshift shelf by the door. For the first time that evening, her eyes met his and softened.
"Good to see you," she began, her voice catching just a little, "I was worried that..." She trailed off, shaking her head as if unable to find the words.
Ari felt a warmth bloom in his chest at his unspoken sentiment. "Yeah," he replied, his own voice softer than he'd intended, "me too."
For a long moment, they simply looked at each other. Then, as if guided by some mutual understanding, 002 stepped forward and pulled him gently into her arms. Even through the fabric of his uniform and his armor, he could feel the heat of her body.
Their foreheads touched, the simple point of contact sending a shiver down his spine. 
Ari closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the embrace. And for a moment, surrounded by mud, metal, and the remnants of war, he found a pocket of peace. 
And it was enough.
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fatehbaz · 2 years
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Avocado orchards had carpeted the gently undulating hills around the sacred lake of Pátzcuaro with stodgy green bushes. Here, before the cataclysmic arrival of the first envoys dispatched by Hernando Cortes from the Aztec capital over the mountains to the East, [...] the Purépecha had sown maize, amaranth, zucchini, cacao, cotton, tomato, beans, a dozen types of chili, and much more.
Now the monotonous “green gold” of the avocado boom had colonized the entire Mexican state of Michoacán. [...] [I]t was shocking to think that the cause of the disaster was America’s great patriotic party: the National Football League’s Super Bowl. A flurry of advertising creativity on behalf of the Mexican avocado was unleashed every year during the multi-million-dollar sports broadcast. [...] “Is your life just terrible?” asks the comic actor Chris Elliott, star of Scary Movie 2 and Scary Movie 4, in the 2019 spot. “You deserve more! Spread an avocado on top of everything!” [...] A few days before the Super Bowl, the domestic diva Martha Stewart [...] had released on social networks her latest recipe for guacamole [...]. Guacamole was now an obligatory snack for the 100 million or so Americans who watched the Super Bowl. In February of 2017, 278 million avocados -- most of them from Michoacán -- had been sold during the days before the game in [the US] [...].
---
The avocado had become the star product of Mexican food production in the age of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) [...] since NAFTA was signed in 1994 [...]. [Mexican] farmers produced 16 times more than the formerly dominant Californian growers. [...] Moreover, the avocado was now classified as a “superfood” [...].
It had not always been like this. In the 1950s, the avocado was known unsentimentally as the crocodile pear [...]. Imports from Mexico were banned until 1997 [...] . When complete liberalization was announced in 2007, Michoacán had become an unbeatable competitor for the Californian avocado growers. The Mexican producers specialized, like their Californian rivals, in the Hass variety of avocado, more meaty than those that the Purépecha had [...] consumed over the millennia, and with a tough skin that protected the pears during long hauls in chilled container trucks to El Paso or Tijuana and then beyond to the big US consumer markets. [...] [T]he Hass avocado was perfectly suited to the global market [...]. Michoacán, whose crystalline lakes had earned it the name of the “land of fish” in the indigenous language of Tarasco, would never be the same.
By 2020, 80 percent of the avocados consumed in the United States came from Michoacán [...].
---
Now in the 21st century, on the outskirts of Uruapan, the frenetic capital del aguacate, the new economy of agribusiness took shape [...]. Further west on the shores of Lake Pátzcuaro, the monoculture had not yet colonized the entire landscape, but the advance of the avocado seemed unstoppable. [...] “Practically everybody here wants an avocado orchard [...],” explained [FFB], a resident of the Purépecha indigenous community of Jarácuaro on the shores of the lake. [...] [H]e was horrified by the extent of environmental destruction. “They pump water from the lake to water the avocado orchards [...]. It’s pillage. [...]”
The falling water level, together with the introduction of the rapacious predator tilapia, had wiped out almost all the [...] [native] fish species. Of the cornucopia of marine life that had fed the Purépecha cities, only the diminutive silvery charal remained. The same occurred at other great freshwater deposits in Michoaczán. [...] The Purépecha communities on the shores of the lake, a landscape of stunning beauty where dense pine and ilex oak forests met white nymphaea lilies floating on turquoise water, were girding themselves for the arrival of the aguacateros, avocado producers [...].
---
“They put a gun to your head and tell you to sign the deed before the notary. That’s how the transfer of land is agreed upon,” explained [GV], a sociologist at the University of San Nicolas de Hidalgo in Morelia [...].
Meanwhile, large exporters and avocado brokers -- some of them international brands like Del Monte -- were profiting by purchasing from producers at dirt-cheap prices and reselling to the US supermarket chains at very attractive ones. “They pay a dollar per kilo of avocado here and sell it for eight at a Minnesota W*lmart,” said [GV].
In order not to squander such a reliable source of profits, “transnational corporations, just like the Canadian mining companies in Zacatecas, pay the extortion money [...],” he continued.
---
Text by: Andy Robinson. Gold, Oil, and Avocados: A Recent History of Latin America in Sixteen Commodities. 2021. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks added by me.]
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pers-books · 5 months
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Doctor Who 2024 series news
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New information about the eight episodes in the Doctor Who 2024 series is revealed in SFX magazine 378. We’ve included contextual information from what we know from other sources and filming reports.
Space Babies
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This episode picks up from the events that happen at the end of The Church on Ruby Road with Ruby Sunday (Millie Gibson) entering the TARDIS for the first time. The Doctor (Ncuti Gatwa) and Ruby land on a spaceship occupied by babies who are very talkative for their age, a scary slimy monster called the Bogeyman (Robert Strange) — and no adults to be found. Space Babies introduces the series story arc of both the Doctor and Ruby’s foundling mystery.
The Devil's Chord
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Ncuti Gatwa describes Maestro (Jinkx Monsoon) as “Such a delicious villain.” The Doctor and Ruby meet and chat with The Beatles in this episode set in 1963. Both Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson will sing in the story. The large recording room at Abbey Road Studios was recreated as a set at Wolf Studios Wales.
Boom
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The Doctor and Ruby travel in the TARDIS to Ruby’s first alien planet — a war-torn world. The episode, written by Steven Moffat and described as “intense”, was filmed in chronological order with Ncuti Gatwa receiving praise for his performance from director Julie Anne Robinson.
73 Yards
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The TARDIS lands on the Welsh coast and Ruby must solve a mystery involving a Welsh horror folktale legend. The TARDIS scenes were genuinely filmed on the Welsh Cost in Pembrokeshire. Dame Siân Phillips co-stars with Aneurin Barnard and Jemma Redgrave. Filming reports reveal that Barnard plays a Welsh candidate named Roger Ap Gwilliam.
Dot and Bubble
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Gatwa and Gibson filmed their first Doctor Who scenes together on a pontoon inside entrance locks in Cardiff Bay Barrage for Dot and Bubble. The setting for Dot and Bubble is a colony with an out-of-control dangerous situation on an alien planet. Callie Cooke plays an influential person in the colony. The episode is described as very Black Mirror and touches on a real-world problem which will likely cause a good deal of discussion after the episode airs.
Rogue
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This episode was co-written Kate Herron and Briony Redman. Set in the Regency Era in 1813, Rogue, described by Davies as “a proper Bridgerton episode with dances and waltzes”, was filmed in three different manor houses. Psychic earrings allow the Doctor and Ruby to period dance with skill. Jonathan Groff and Indira Varma co-star. Varma plays the villainous Duchess of Pemberton — who is not what she seems.
The Legend of Ruby Sunday and Empire of Death
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These episodes, set on Earth, feature UNIT headquarters populated by Kate Stewart (Jemma Redgrave), Mel Bush (Bonnie Langford), Rose Noble (Yasmin Finney), Morris (Lenny Rush) and Colonel Ibrahim (Alexander Devrient). Russell T Davies calls this episode “shocking” and “The Most Devastating Finale.”
Doctor Who, starring Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson returns on 11 May 2024 midnight, 00:00 BST (10 May 7:00pm ET) streaming on BBC iPlayer and Disney+ with Space Babies and The Devil’s Chord. Both episodes will broadcast on BBC One in the UK and Ireland on 11 May immediately before Eurovision. The remaining six episodes will stream at 00:00 BST on the six subsequent Saturdays.
-- So it looks like Jemma DID film with Ncuti, despite what she said in a recent interview. Which is as it should be - she can't be in New Who and NOT appear with the Doctor - that ain't right and proper! AND she's in three episodes this series (that we know of!). Huzzah!
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gorlygorlx3 · 1 month
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The Floridian Couple Chapter 1: in the beninging
The sky had been gray for several days now, the dark and threatening clouds gave the impression of being ready to break out at any moment. The wind was blowing, not strong enough to disturb the passers-by but enough to make the branches of the few trees and other plants that decorated the city shake, making their leaves fall off and disappear elsewhere. The smell of humidity floated in the air almost hiding the other smells and if you listened carefully you could hear the distant hum of a thunderstorm rumbling. However the weather did not stop the living.
On the sidewalks many people were walking, some in a hurry to reach their destination, others walking and admiring the store signs and what they offered, while the few illuminated signs here and there were trying to color this world of black and white a little. In the streets the cars, whose lights had been turned on because of the semi-darkness, were coming and going, growing and moving in a strange and unpredictable choreography. The surrounding noise was deafening, a mixture of the conversations of the passers-by, of the few blasts of the horn that the cars exchanged when one of the drivers did not respect the code of the road or had simply decided to release his frustration on innocent strangers.
A few people had lingered in front of a store that sold televisions, most of the screens presented in the glass were old models that had not been sold for several years now. The multitude of screens, which were accompanied by small speakers, were broadcasting the evening news. With the clouds and the prolonged darkness it was very easy to lose track of time without any chronological reference. The face of the main reporter appeared with a smile, made up of teeth so white that they could not be real, on his face. The reporter began to announce headlines about things that concerned the city, the country and even the rest of the world. With the headlines announced, the reporter began his speech.
”The topic of ghost busting services has become increasingly popular among the public as the many cases of supernatural activity have risen ever since the “Cult of A” had ripped through the supernatural domain 8 years ago.” 
“Hey, did you hear about that time when a guy got swallowed by a basilisk?”
”Yeah, some chick clawed through its skin and pulled him out of its ass. He’s in therapy now.” 
“Man, ghost hunters are weird.”
”Kinda kinky to me. I bet she's a real freak."
I’m not sure if fingering a snake chicken’s ass is considered “kinky” but hey, everyone has a fetish I guess.
Right, forgot there’s people here.
I’m (Y/N) (L/N) also know as The Floridian Woman; local ghost hunter, myth buster and feminist hero. I'm called that because I usually do a lot of shit that always ends up at the headlines. My store’s down the block from here, I’m out today cuz I need some groceries for my ’partment. I would ask my roommate but he’s too busy sitting on his lazy ass looking at porn. God, I swear if I see a weird stain on the couch, he’s cleaning it.
Oh look the grocery store. Quickie's. Horrible name by the way. Hope there's deals on tomato sauce.
Looks like the store's packed today. Probably the tomato sauce deals. 
*The store.*
I’ll just get in and get out. 
*(Y/N) walks around the empty aisles, dodging the shadow people inside.* Tomato sauce, tomato sauce, where’s the tomato sauce? 
AISLE 19
PET FOOD
KIMCHI 
DUST PANS
TAMPONS & PERIOD PADS
TOMATO SAUCE
Who puts the tomato sauce with the tampons? Whatever, it's half off. Let's just get some and go. *(Y/N) grabs two jars of tomato sauce.* Alright, I'm outta here. *(Y/N) throws money on an occupied register and leaves the grocery store, but stops.*
...
Aw crap it's night. Which means--
BOOM!
Witching Hour. So much for a nice night home. Guess those bitches don't know when to fuck off. 
*In the distance, a shadowy figure looms over the night sky; think Harry Potter deatheater vibes.*
"Yak yak yak! I'm the great witch of Harlem and I've come to show you the power of the black!" 
What the fuck?
"It's time to get your asses whooped! Eeyak yak yak yak!!" 
Absolutely not, I mean black lives matter and such, but this is way too much. I need to stop this before shit goes down.
*Dropping the plastic bag and breaking the glass jars of tomato sauce, (Y/N) sheaths a katana from underneath the leather jacket. The blade gleams against the lights.* Go to hell motherfucker!
*Epic anime music plays in the background as (Y/N) scrambles her way through the city, jumping over and on people, some of them getting crush by her giant feet. Meanwhile, the cops drives their way to the witch. (Y/N) hops over cars, smashing their windshields in the process. God damn were your legs powerful. With one finally leap (Y/N) finally made it to an empty highway.
"Ay Mama Yaga!" I shouted. "Better call this off before things get ugly."
"And who the fuck are you?" The witch asked
"FREEZE! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!" Oh look the cops. Seriously, it's 20XX. These guys needs better shit. The city can't be that broke to not afford enchanted guns for the police. *The witch doesn't listen to the police as raised a long black object in hand. It's a belt. Meaning the police are getting punished. The police aimed and fired at her, but the witch was quicker. The belt deflected the bullets back towards the cops. And (Y/N).* 
Damn she's strong."Look just leave this to me alright." I call to the punctured cops crouching on the ground in terror. God are the police stupid. Honestly they need to hired more ghost hunters in law enforcement. There's too much prejudiced bullshit among society; so what if there's people who practice magic, they're not all bad like this bitch.
"That'll teach you to talk back to me!"
"Listen lady I don't know if you know this, but whipping people is consider abuse. And I know you do the exact thing to your 10 kids." I said. "CSA will be on your ass real soon."
"Ha! You think I care? If my kids do dumb shit they'll get beat for it."
"Uh huh and I bet your husband definitely doesn't need to be punished for cheating on you." I smirked. "I should know, he was really good." Oops I think I hit a nerve. *The long belt whipped the highway with a loud smack, causing the road to crumble and the cop cars to fly off the highway. They rain scrap metal down on the civilians. (Y/N) leaped high, higher than the witch, and with a single motion a tailsman was thrown at the witch's face. An exggarated explosion emerged from the air.* Ding dong the wicked bitch is dead. 
Vrooooooooooommmm...
Huh?
*A pink convertible ran over the dead body of the witch and stopped in front of (Y/N). Inside was an incredibly muscled dude with long, wild, dirty red hair, red eyes, and a stupid smirk on his face.*
"Coulda gave me a call y'know? I've would handled this easier."
"Right, cuz it takes a nigga to know one." I eyed the pink car. "Where the fuck did you get Barbie's car from?"
"Girl gave me the keys after I saw the news." 
"You were banging her weren't you?" He had better cleaned up the place. 
"Weren't you getting tomato sauce?" Oh changing the subject huh?
"Shut up Monty just take me home. I need a nap." 
*(Y/N) and Monty hit the road down the highway, manuvering through the rubble of the fight.* "How much property damage don't ya think this'll cost?" Let's see, the highway, the cop cars, the other cars I jumped on, the people I stepped on. Shit, probably a hundred thousand bucks or something.
"I don't wanna know. Having my face on TV is one thing but property damage. Yeesh..."
"Luckliy for us monster hunting pays us a fortune. We can pay for the city and still pay the rent." Well he's not wrong since usually we get about somewhere between $10 to $50,000 dollars depending on the job. For Bloody Mary J. Blige back there we would probably get 40 bucks since she wasn't causing a lot of chaos.
Oh yeah and by "we", I mean the both of us. Monty and I run the place together, not to mention we live with each other too. We split the cash evenly after a job although I'm hoping this jackass doesn't bri--
"How much of the check am I getting? I say split it 40/60."
"You didn't do shit!" I yelled. "I busted my ass out there. Not you. You stole a chick's car and ran over an old black woman."
"Aw c'mon, I'll pay for the tomato sauce and clean the toilet."
"No amount of chores is gonna cover that." *The car parks at a small convenience store. Outside was an asian chick in a yellow tank top, green short, a leather jacket, and fishnet stocking. She wasn't wearing shoes.*
"Sorry cher for stealing your car for a bit." Monty's apology didn't seem to work. The chick smack him in the face. Yeah she was mad, and that goofy ahh grin didn't help at all.
"永遠不要再碰我你這個變態!" She said something in Japanese. At least I think it's Japanese. Wait she doesn't think that I'm his girl right? 
"Well that didn't go well."
"Ya think?" 
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ulkaralakbarova · 2 months
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The adventures of two amiably aimless metal-head friends, Wayne and Garth. From Wayne’s basement, the pair broadcast a talk-show called “Wayne’s World” on local public access television. The show comes to the attention of a sleazy network executive who wants to produce a big-budget version of “Wayne’s World”—and he also wants Wayne’s girlfriend, a rock singer named Cassandra. Wayne and Garth have to battle the executive not only to save their show, but also Cassandra. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Wayne Campbell: Mike Myers Garth Algar: Dana Carvey Benjamin Kane: Rob Lowe Cassandra: Tia Carrere Stacy: Lara Flynn Boyle Dreamwoman: Donna Dixon Security Guard: Chris Farley Noah Vanderhoff: Brian Doyle-Murray Alan: Michael DeLuise Tiny: Meat Loaf Bad Cop / T-1000: Robert Patrick Alice Cooper: Alice Cooper Glen: Ed O’Neill Mrs. Vanderhoff: Colleen Camp Terry: Lee Tergesen Russell Finley: Kurt Fuller Davy: Mike Hagerty Ron Paxton: Charles Noland Elyse: Ione Skye Frankie Sharp: Frank DiLeo Waitress: Robin Ruzan Officer Koharski: Frederick Coffin Old Man Withers: Carmen Filpi Film Crew: Original Music Composer: J. Peter Robinson Screenplay: Mike Myers Executive Producer: Hawk Koch Director of Photography: Theo van de Sande Director: Penelope Spheeris Producer: Lorne Michaels Editor: Malcolm Campbell Stunts: Hannah Kozak Stunts: Alisa Christensen Associate Producer: Dinah Minot Associate Producer: Barnaby Thompson Screenplay: Bonnie Turner Screenplay: Terry Turner Casting: Glenn Daniels Production Design: Gregg Fonseca Second Unit Director: Allan Graf First Assistant Director: John Hockridge Second Assistant Director: Joseph J. Kontra Set Decoration: Jay Hart Camera Operator: Martin Schaer “B” Camera Operator: David Hennings First Assistant Camera: Henry Tirl First Assistant “B” Camera: Peter Mercurio Steadicam Operator: Elizabeth Ziegler Script Supervisor: Adell Aldrich Sound Mixer: Tom Nelson Boom Operator: Jerome R. Vitucci Additional Editor: Earl Ghaffari Assistant Editor: Ralph O. Sepulveda Jr. Assistant Editor: Ann Trulove Assistant Editor: Brion McIntosh Supervising Sound Editor: John Benson Sound Effects Editor: Beth Sterner Sound Effects Editor: Joseph A. Ippolito Sound Effects Editor: Frank Howard Dialogue Editor: Michael Magill Dialogue Editor: Simon Coke Dialogue Editor: Bob Newlan Supervising ADR Editor: Allen Hartz Foley Supervisor: Pamela Bentkowski Assistant Sound Editor: Carolina Beroza Assistant Sound Editor: Thomas W. Small Foley Artist: Ken Dufva Foley Artist: David Lee Fein Foley Mixer: Greg Curda ADR Mixer: Bob Baron ADR Voice Casting: Barbara Harris Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Andy Nelson Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Steve Pederson Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Tom Perry Music Supervisor: Maureen Crowe Supervising Music Editor: Steve Mccroskey Set Designer: Lisette Thomas Set Designer: Gae S. Buckley Special Effects Makeup Artist: Thomas R. Burman Special Effects Makeup Artist: Bari Dreiband-Burman Makeup Artist: Courtney Carell Makeup Artist: Mel Berns Jr. Hairstylist: Kathrine Gordon Hairstylist: Barbara Lorenz Hairstylist: Carol Meikle Costume Supervisor: Pat Tonnema Costumer: Janet Sobel Costumer: Kimberly Guenther Durkin Location Manager: Ned R. Shapiro Assistant Location Manager: Serena Baker Second Second Assistant Director: John G. Scotti Property Master: Kirk Corwin Assistant Property Master: Peter A. Tullo Assistant Property Master: Jim Stubblefield Leadman: Robert Lucas Special Effects Coordinator: Tony Vandenecker Chief Lighting Technician: Jono Kouzouyan Production Office Coordinator: Lynne White Unit Publicist: Tony Angelotti Still Photographer: Suzanne Tenner Craft Service: Vartan Chakarian Transportation Coordinator: James Thornsberry Color Timer: David Bryden Negative Cutter: Theresa Repola Mohammed Title Designer: Dan Curry Second Unit Director of Photography: Robert M. Stevens Stunts: Tony Brubaker Stunt Double: Steve Kelso Movie Reviews: tmdb15435519: I wish I could dress the exact same every day and still be cool.
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jechristine · 1 year
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I read this article today and thought it did a nice job of providing context for the WGA and SAG-AFSTRA negotiations.
I’m going to paste in some excerpts—
On the alienation of the creative laborer from his product:
“Television has turned into a hyperspecialized Model T assembly line where everyone does one particular tiny job,” says Schur. “You focus really hard on screwing this bolt into this piece of metal, and that’s all you do. And as a result, nobody’s learning how to make a whole car. The battle now is to figure out which patches we can put on the process so that in five or ten years, people will still know how to make TV.”
On the signifiers of “prestige” and their easy appropriation (I think this is a main problem of Euphoria, actually):
It may not have helped that some streaming services thought their recommendation algorithms could replace old-fashioned marketing, which made it easy for even great shows to come and go without causing a ripple. In an attempt to make their wares stand out among the glut, some platforms simply spent more money on them with mixed results. Over time, the expensive signifiers of prestige TV — the movie stars, the set pieces, the cinematography — became so familiar and easy to appropriate that it could take viewers six or seven hours to realize the show they were watching was a fugazi. “Premium and streaming have been chasing more of a film attitude than a TV attitude, which is making shows more expensive but oftentimes not as good as they used to be,” says Ryan. “You’re seeing ideas that should’ve been movies being elongated into eight episodes, and they don’t have the narrative engines to sustain them for that long.”
And this is super depressing. On the closing window for a diversity of voices:
One of the best things about the boom was that it created space for stories and voices that had usually been marginalized. But as Hollywood reverts to what it thinks are sure things, many fear that TV may lose some of that diversity. “I recently spoke to the writers of a show that would’ve featured a trans lead,” Nori Reed, a comic and writer, says in an email. “After years of development at a major studio, they were told they had to change the trans character to cis if they wanted the show to be produced. Another friend was developing a show at another major studio that featured a central trans story line. Their show was canceled. When their manager tried to shop it to other studios, they were told that nobody wants to produce trans-focused shows any longer, citing the need for ‘global appeal.’”
And on to the unsurprising but depressing future:
Many in the industry have conjectured that the streaming ecosystem may eventually shrink to four major platforms. If that’s the case, then we’d have sacrificed cable only to replace it with a broadcast-style monopoly. A world with fewer apps could have immediate downsides for both consumers and creators. A number of streamers have raised their prices recently, and less competition would embolden them to do so again. More significantly, anyone making shows would likely lose negotiating power.
Would love to read thoughts about this piece if anyone else is interested!
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le-sserafim · 7 months
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230526 eunchae twt update
뮤뱅 언니들🍒❤️
Mubang* unnies🍒❤️
(T/N: *Music Bank shortened to just the first two syllables in the Korean pronunciation of "Music Bank" -> 뮤직뱅크. It's a reference to the print-outs behind Eunchae in the first two photos: Eve, Psyche, and the Mubang unnies who love Eunchae. Printouts in the last photo say: Boom boom boom, Mubang's heart pounds whenever we see LE SSERAFIM. If this is the last broadcast [of EPBW promotions], we fall fall fall)
Trans cr: Songyi @ le-sserafim.tumblr.com © Please credit when taking out
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ptbf2002 · 1 year
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Here's My Profile Picture (November-December 2023)
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Text
SCU Sonic and Boom Sonic talk about Amy
Boom Sonc- Scarf
Everyone else was busy, that means that these two hedgehogs finally get to hang out on their own.
They’re sitting on beach chairs in front of Scarfs house watching the waves together.
“So.. you don’t have an Amy in your universe?” this question has been burning in Scarfs mind for a while. Sonic looks over at him “..nope! Not that I know of. I don’t even know if there are other hedgehogs like me in my universe!” “So you’re one of a kind?” “In a way, we both are.”
Pause “buuut what if you do get an Amy? What would you do then~?” Scarf raises his eyebrows and lowers his sunglasses for extra effect. “Be friends with her. Obviously.. I hope there is an Amy. I want to know if there’s other hedgehogs.. unlike the ones Earth has.” Sonic sits up and swings his feet over to the side of the chair, shuffling his feet in the sand “Why are you asking? You want me to have the love life you lack?” “Now listen here. My love life is THRIVING. All the ladies love me.” Scarf is a little offended. But we gotta keep our head held high!
“Oh? I thought you and Amy weren’t a thing. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. A bit sus.” Sonic giggles mischievously. “Wh- hey what do you mean?! We’re just friends. Nothing more!“ “you sure? I saw Amy open her purse.. and there was a little picture of you sitting inside.” “..I’ll have to talk to her about that later.”
Scarf sighs “look, little me, you gotta get yourself out there. Extend to new frontiers. If your Amy is anything like mine, she’s going to be obsessed with you when you first meet.” Sonic tilts his head “how so?” “When you’re such a dashingly handsome hedgehog such like ourselves, you’re bound to get some attention from a girl. Amy was aware of my existence before I was aware of hers. She travelled far to reach me. And I’m glad she did, cause she’s now one of my greatest friends. I’ve never met anything like her.” Scarf looks off into the sky. Talking about Amy seems to have put him in the rare gushy mood.
“So.. what you’re saying is.. she’s watching me?” Sonic has another stalker? “If she is, you’ve put on quite the show~ all your best tricks on broadcast for the loving eyes. She’s probably figuring out how to make her way over.” “Aw man.. another stalker.”
Scarf laughs and pats Sonics shoulder “I’m joking. Buuut if Tails found you, she can too.” “I hope she doesn’t break into my house and destroy stuff if she does find me.”
“Your door might get burst down if you’re slow to answer it.”
“What?”
Scarf smirks “oh she’s gonna fall for you so hard.” Sonic stutters “h-how do you know that?? How can you love someone you’ve never met?”
“Love, like Amy, always finds a way.”
“But- but I’m not ready for commitment!”
“Did you or did you not adopt Tails and Knuckles as your brothers?”
“That’s different.”
Scarf lays back once more “if it happens, great. If it doesn’t, that’s ok. There’s other hedgehogs out there.” Sonic slooowly turns his head “..there are..?” “Of course! I mean, there’s a maximum 3 hedgehogs I’ve seen on this island-“ “WHOS THE THIRD?” “I’ve said too much.” “YOUVE SAID TOO LITTLE you can’t just leave me at that!” Sonic whines, now impatient and ready to pounce on his bigger self. “Something tells me you aren’t ready to hear it.” “W H A T???”
A ring portal opens up. Tails hops out “Sonic, mom says it’s dinner time.”
Scarf stands up and stretches “it’s been great hangin out with you, little buddy.” Sonic stands and starts heading to the portal “our discussion isn’t over, I’m coming back tomorrow.” “Yea yea sure thing”
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oceanremnants · 1 year
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[LIVE BROADCAST]
PRIVATE - sibbing gruopchat [Booming Voice Quiet Temper, Keeper of Ten Trillion Beads; First Dewdrop of Morning, Fifth Sunrise; Three Small Feathers in a Lake of Quills; Three Mossy Stones; UPSILON; Winter’s Monsoon.]
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<FDM> i need a nickname for ea
<FDM> i can't just call her Eternal Anomaly every time i try to talk to her face t face
<TSF> use her acronym like a regular guy
<FDM> absolutely not?
<BVQT> Perhaps "short queen" could suffice?
<FDM> he isn't short!!!!!
<FDM> they're taller than everyone in this group but me!! and quiet
<TSF> "taller than average but relatively short to me queen"
<FDM> that's just a title
<TSF> huh???
<WM> I Concurr. If Malachite Thee Ascended is fitte for the title of an ittyrator, Taller Than Averatch Queene would alsso be.
<TSF> that's a slugcat name, though?
<FDM> yeah, a title.
<TSF> they aren't titles. they're just names.
<WM> They Arre.
<FDM> can we PLEASE get back to the issue at hand
<FDM> what do i call my girlfriend. aside from his title.
<BVQT> Perhaps take a leaf from Goldy's book and simply refuse to correctly say her name until something sticks?
<FDM> taking suggestions from everyone but quiet now
<UPSILON> You could simply nickname her based off of something she enjoys.
<FDM> ...evolution.
<FDM> .....
<FDM> beast
<UPSILON> Excuse me?
<FDM> I MEAN HER.
<FDM> i'm gonna call them beast
<UPSILON> ...Good luck, I suppose?
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daggerzine · 2 years
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MY FAVORITE RECORDS OF 2022 (all lists are in no particular order)
MY 20 FAVORITE RECORDS OF 2022
The Jeanines- Don’t Wait for a Sign (Slumberland)
Arts & Leisure- This Vast Illusion (self released)
Mick Trouble- It’s Mick Trouble’s Second LP! (Emotional Response)
Model Shop- Love Interest (Meritorio)
The Photocopies- Greatest Hits Volume 2 and Hopelessly Devoted (both self released)
Hammered Hulls- Careening (Dischord)  
Michael Head & the Red Elastic band- Dear Scott (Modern Sky UK)
The Reds Pinks and Purples- Summer at Land’s End
(Slumberland)  
Winged Wheel- No Island (12XU)
The Boys with the Perpetual Nervousness- The Third Wave of…  (Bobo Integral)  
Sick Thoughts- Heaven is No Fun (Total Punk)
Horsegirl- Versions of Modern Performance  (Matador)  
First Aid Kit- Palomino  (Columbia)
Dot Dash- Madman in the Rain (The Beautiful Music)
Superchunk- Wild Loneliness (Merge)
Ribbon Stage- Hit With The Most (Perennial/ K)
Artsick- Fingers Crossed (Slumberland)
Belle & Sebastian- A Bit of Previous (Matador)
Non Bruises- S/T (self released)
The Sadies- Colder Streams (Yep Roc)
HERE’S 20 MORE!
Panda Bear & Sonic Boom- Reset (Domino)
Papercuts- Past Life Regression (Slumberland)
Weak Signal- War and War (Colonel Records)
Librarians with Hickeys- Handclaps and Tambourines (Big Stir)
The Well Wishers- Blue Sky Sun (self released)
Armstrong- Happy Graffiti (The Beautiful Music)
The Reds Pinks and Purples- They Only Wanted Your Soul (Slumberland)  
Savak- Human Error/ Human Delight (Ernest Jenning)
Freezing Hands- It Was a Good Run (Dateland)
April March- In Cinerama (Omnivore)
Kids on a Crime Spree – Fall In Love Not In Line (Slumberland) 
Young Guv- III & IV  (Run for Cover Records)
U.S. Highball- A Parkhead Cross of the Mind (Lame-O)
Flowertown- Half Yesterday (Mt St Mtn)
Ex-Void- Bigger Than Before (Don Giovanni)
Tony Molina- In the Fade (Summer Shade)
Field School- When Summer Comes (Bobo Integral)
My Raining Stars- 89 Memories (Shelflife)
Kevin Robertson- Teaspoon of Time (Futureman)
Hater- Sincere (Fire)
…..AAAAAAAAND 10 MORE!
Almost Charlie- A Whisper in a World Too Loud (Words on Music)  
The Orchids- Dreaming Kind (Skep Wax) 
 Aarktica- We Will Find the Light (Darla)  
Extra Arms- What Is Even Happening Right Now? (Forge Again Records)
The Silent Boys- Sand To Pearls, Coal To Diamonds (Too Good to Be True Records)
The Smashing Times- Bloom (Meritorio)
The Bye Bye Blackbirds- August Lightning Complex (Double Potion Records)
The Beths- Expert in a Dying Field (Carpark)
Ghost Power- S/T (Duophonic)
Peter Astor- Time on Earth (Tapete)
I ALSO LIKED ALBUMS BY……Dazy, Eyelids, Desario, Hoodoo Gurus, Salt Lake Alley, Helen Love, Kramies, The Monochrome Set,  Anton Barbeau, Cozy Slippers, The Chesterfields, Rob Moss and Skintight Skin, Lewsberg, Richard X. Heyman, The Claudettes, Surf Piranhas, Kiwi Jr, Sault, Nervous Twitch, New Buck Biloxi, Heather Trost, Fine, Alien Nose Job, Kevin Morby, Ward White, Spiritualized , Click Beetles, Whimsical, Man’s Body, Wet Leg, The Minders,  Water Damage, Star Party, The Paranoid Style, Alvvays, Chronophage, Rolling Blackouts CF, The Happy Somethings, The Umbrella Puzzles, Zac Denton, Northern Portrait, Volebeats, Your Academy, Aluminum Group, Guy Capecelatro, Jon Spencer & the Hitmakers, The Trypes, Jeremy, etc. etc.
MY 10 FAVORITE REISSUES/COLLECTIONS of 2022  
Tall Dwarfs- Unravelled - 1981-2002 (Merge)
Broadcast- BBC Maida Vale Sessions (Warp)
Heavenly- Heavenly Vs Satan (Skep Wax)
Biff  Bang Pow! -Better Life: Complete Creations 1984-1991 (Cherry Red)
Go Sailor- S/T (Slumberland)
The Lucksmiths- Why That Doesn’t Surprise me and  Naturaliste (both Lost and Lonesome)
The Krayolas- Happy Go Lucky (Box Records)
The Flashing Lights- Where the Change Is (Murder)
The Muffs- Really Really Happy (Omnivore)
My Teenage Stride- Singles and B-sides (digital)
MY 15 FAVORITE EP’s OF 2022
The Chills- Scatterbrain Storm Outtakes (Fire)
Elk City- Above the Door (Magic City)
The 1981 - Polaroids EP (Dandy Boy)
The Persian Leaps- Machines for Living (Land Ski Records)
The Photocopies- Departure P (self released)
R.E. Seraphin- Swingshift EP (Dandy Boy/Mt St Mtn)
My Favorite- Tender is the Nightshift part 1 (HHBTM)
The Black Watch- The Neverland of Spoken Things (digital)
The Radio Field- Time Simple EP (Subjangle)
The Wends- It’s Here Where You Fall (Subjangle)  
Michael Beach- 2022 EP (Goner)
The Laughing Chimes- Zoo Ave (Slumberland)
My Raining Stars- The Life We planned (digital)
The Age of Colored Lizards (Perfect Smile (Sotron)  
Field School- Swainson’s Thrush (Small Craft Advisory)
The Lunar Towers- Hurry Up and Wait (Colorama Records)
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justactgaussian · 2 months
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Happy Moon Day!
To celebrate the 55th anniversary of the moonlanding, I highly recommend checking out Apollo 11 in Real Time
From the instructions page:
This website replays the Apollo 11 mission as it happened. It consists entirely of historical material, all timed to Ground Elapsed Time--the master mission clock. Footage of Mission Control, film shot by the astronauts, and television broadcasts transmitted from space and the surface of the Moon, have been painstakingly placed to the very moments they were shot during the mission, as has every photograph taken, and every word spoken.
(There is also a transcript of everything said).
You can start at T-1M to launch or at the current date and time in 1969. If you want to skip straight to the First Step, it's at 109:24:26.
I'll put some of my favourite moments under the cut:
109:41:29 Aldrin: Okay. Now I want to back up and partially close the hatch. 109:41:47 Aldrin: Making sure not to lock it on my way out. 109:41:51 Armstrong: (Laughter) Particularly good thought.
110:13:43 Aldrin: Alright. You do have to be rather careful to keep track of where your center of mass is. Sometimes, it takes about two or three paces to make sure you've got your feet underneath you. 110:14:07 Aldrin: In about two to three or maybe four easy paces can bring you to a nearly smooth stop. ... change directions, like a football player, you just have to to ... foot out to the side and cut a little bit. 110:14:41 Aldrin: So called kangeroo hop does work, but it seems that your forward mobility is not quite as good as - it is in the conventional - more conventional one foot after another.
114:00:04 Mission Control: Roger. Just want to let you guys know that since you're an hour and a half over your timeline and we're all taking a day off tomorrow, we're going to leave you. See you later. 114:00:14 Armstrong: I don't blame you a bit.
157:53:39 Mission Control: Hello, Apollo 11. Houston. Buzz, you brought the surgeon right out of his chair. We see you exercising. Over. 157:53:50 Collins: Say again. 157:53:52 Mission Control: We see you exercising. Is that correct, Buzz? 157:53:57 Collins: Yes, I'm sorry. Buzz is. 157:53:59 Mission Control: Roger. We've got his heartbeat way up. 157:54:05 Armstrong: Right. He's sort of out of shape. 157:54:07 Mission Control: Yes. That's what we thought.
157:56:42 Collins: Say the old White Team's really got a busy one tonight, huh? 157:56:45 Mission Control: Oh, boy. We're really booming along here with all this activity. Can barely believe it. 157:56:52 Collins: What are you doing? Sitting around with your feet up on the console drinking coffee? 157:56:56 Mission Control: (Laughter) You must have your X-ray eyes up. You sure can see a long way.
173:52:48 Collins: Houston, Apollo 11. We've been doing a little Flight Planning for Apollo 12 up here. 173:52:55 Mission Control: Roger. Go ahead. 173:52:58 Collins We're trying to calculate how much spagetti and meatballs we can get onboard for Al Bean. 173:53:07 Mission Control: I'm not sure the spacecraft will take that much extra weight. Have you made any estimates? 173:53:14 Collins: It'll be close. 173:53:55 Public Affairs: That last comment came from Mike Collins referring Al Bean who is the Lunar Module Pilot for Apollo 12. 173:55:54 Mission Control: 11, Houston. The medics at the next console report that the shrew is one animal which can eat six times its own body weight every 24 hours. This may be a satisfactory base line for your spaghetti calculations on Al Bean. Over.
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suploxinhh · 8 months
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Week 4: Digital Community and Fandom: Reality TV
Social media platforms have proven to be popular and powerful in today's globalized world, reaching every segment of the entertainment sector, including reality television. In this blog, let's learn how Reality TV has shaped digital communities and fandoms. Specifically, we will explore one region - Vietnam.
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In simple terms, a program features real people (untrained and/or ensemble actors) in real settings (not studios) acting out events based on their real lives or played by real people. The television creation created is called reality television, according to Kraszewski (2017) (Schneider 2018). In Vietnam, 2023 is called the year of the boom of reality TV shows because, after many years of silence, audiences once again have countless choices for entertainment, from music game shows to reality TV shows. Lively, humorous, drama reality TV, listed as: Masked Singer, 2 Days 1 Night, Rap Viet, The Face Vietnam, Vietnam Idol, Beautiful Girl riding the wind to break the waves, First to make a living, Having an appointment with youth, Hanging out and singing, Brilliant Journey, The New Mentor. (TRE 2023).
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However, despite so many programs, quality still does not match quantity (Linh 2023). For example, in the program The Face Vietnam 2023, viewers are completely unable to focus on the talent, qualifications, and skills of the contestants but are often caught up in the never-ending battle of the coaches (Chi & Page 2023).
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Like The Face Vietnam 2023, the same goes for The New Mentor program. Throughout all nine broadcast episodes, the audience did not clearly see the leadership talent and guidance of the contestants but only saw the coach focusing on "mouth" to compete for contestants or "complain" about the results of the competitions (Chi & Trang 2023). 
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Thereby, it can be seen that television programs are increasingly noisy, lacking moderation, and building many dramatic confrontations despite the audience's reactions. As Pham (2013) argues, "Current reality TV shows are still mainly based on scandals, are not really creative, are still half-baked, and are unprofessional. Reality TV shows in Vietnam are mainly for entertainment and advertising purposes for sponsors but do not carry the true meaning of reality TV shows like in other countries."
Besides, there is also another side that is dramatic dramas and details that have created opportunities for reality shows to become more famous by attracting audiences and viewers to comment on social networking sites such as Facebook, Youtube. Program crews post drama excerpts of celebrities or contestants to attract passionate fan communities to comment, defend and debate a common issue. For Example:
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Because those dramas create a community that can debate and share opinions with each other on social platforms, it can be concluded that reality shows in Vietnam have shaped the technical community. numbers and fan communities (Ozok & Zaphiris 2009). However, excessive drama brings negative things. Dr. Nguyen Tuan Anh (Youth Research Institute) said that conflicting situations on television are not only a war between stars but also a war between fan communities. “They argue with each other, even ready to insult and insult each other in cyberspace. These are uncivilized actions that need to be stopped immediately” (Linh 2023).
Reference list:
Chi, H & Trang, A 2023, Gameshow giải trí gây ức chế vì lạm dụng drama, chiêu trò quá đà, laodong.vn.
Linh, G 2023, Gameshow truyền hình 2023: Bùng nổ, lạm dụng chiêu trò, Báo điện tử Tiền Phong.
Ozok, AAnt & Zaphiris, P 2009, Online Communities and Social Computing, Lecture Notes in Computer Science, Springer Berlin, Heidelberg.
Schneider, MA 2018, ‘Jon Kraszewski, Reality TV’, Film Criticism, vol. 42, no. 3.
TRE, T 2023, Truyền hình thực tế năm 2023: Đủ thể loại, lắm chiêu trò, TUOI TRE ONLINE.
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scloudsg · 8 months
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Latency or Legacy? Cloud Gaming to New Business Dimensions
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The gaming landscape is experiencing a seismic shift, fueled by the meteoric rise of cloud gaming. Forget bulky consoles and high-end rigs; the future of gaming lies in the cloud, accessible from virtually any device. This transformative technology is unlocking a world of possibilities for both players and developers alike, and understanding its key trends, challenges, and opportunities is crucial for navigating this exciting new frontier.
Soaring Popularity: Cloud Gaming for All
Gone are the days when high-end gaming was reserved for the privileged few. Cloud gaming empowers players of all walks of life to dive into AAA titles like never before. Whether it’s a smartphone, a laptop, or even a low-end PC, gamers can now access a vast library of games without the hefty hardware investment. This democratization of gaming is driving an unprecedented surge in popularity, making cloud gaming one of the most exciting trends in the industry.
Subscription Revolution: Owning Games is Out, Access is In
The traditional ownership model is facing a formidable challenger in the form of subscription services like Ubisoft+ and Xbox Game Pass. These platforms offer players access to a diverse library of games for a monthly fee, fundamentally changing how we consume and engage with gaming content. While some cling to the nostalgia of physical copies, the convenience and affordability of subscriptions are undeniably alluring, paving the way for a potentially transformative shift in consumer behavior.
Live Streaming Synergy: Showcasing in Cloud Gaming
The rise of cloud gaming is inextricably linked to the booming live streaming scene. Platforms like Twitch thrive on the accessibility and ease of showcasing gameplay experiences, and cloud gaming empowers streamers to effortlessly broadcast their skills and captivate audiences. This symbiotic relationship fosters a vibrant gaming community, further fueling the popularity of both cloud gaming and live streaming.
Technological Advancements: Smoothing the Cloud Journey
To truly unlock the potential of cloud gaming, overcoming technical hurdles is paramount. Advancements in 5G connectivity, Content Delivery Networks (CDNs), and network optimization are playing a crucial role in minimizing latency and ensuring smooth gameplay experiences. As these technologies continue to evolve, cloud gaming will become even more seamless and immersive, solidifying its place as the future of gaming.
AI: The Next Frontier of Cloud Gaming
Artificial intelligence (AI) is poised to revolutionize cloud gaming beyond mere accessibility. Imagine dynamic game worlds that adapt to your decisions, personalized gameplay tailored to your preferences, and engaging non-player characters that react and behave with unprecedented intelligence. AI injects a layer of dynamism and immersion into cloud gaming, pushing the boundaries of what’s possible and promising to redefine the very nature of gameplay.
Game Developers at the Crossroads: Embrace or Be Left Behind
While cloud gaming presents a world of opportunity, some developers may find themselves at a crossroads. Concerns regarding revenue models, creative control, and technical challenges are understandable. However, ignoring the cloud risks leaving developers behind in a rapidly evolving market. The potential to reach a wider audience, experiment with innovative mechanics, and tap into a growing revenue stream makes embracing cloud gaming a strategic necessity for future success.
Are Streaming Companies Facing the Same?
Streaming companies, traditionally focused on video and music, find themselves in a different position compared to game developers entering the cloud gaming arena. While both grapple with issues like adapting business models and content optimization, their concerns diverge in certain aspects.
Streaming companies already possess the infrastructure and expertise for delivering content over the internet, giving them a head start in the technical aspects of cloud gaming. Their existing subscriber base for movies and music also offers a potential springboard for expanding into game streaming, allowing them to leverage existing relationships and brand recognition. However, they face their own unique hurdles. Building robust list of high-quality games to broadcast and convincing game communities to switch stream over are significant challenges. Additionally, dealing with latency issues for real-time gameplay demands a specific focus on network optimization, different from the requirements of video and music streaming.
Key Considerations for a Cloud-Savvy Future
For gaming companies venturing into the cloud, careful planning is key. Understanding your target audience, crafting a sustainable business model, forging strategic partnerships, optimizing content for the cloud, and effectively communicating the value proposition are crucial steps towards ensuring a successful transition. By navigating these considerations with vision and foresight, gaming companies can leverage the power of cloud gaming to reach new heights and shape the future of this dynamic industry.
Conclusion
As the cloud continues to ascend, one thing is certain: the future of gaming is no longer confined by physical limitations. It’s a future where everyone has the potential to be a player, where the boundaries between reality and virtual worlds blur, and where AI redefines the very essence of gameplay. Cloud gaming is not just a trend; it’s a revolution, and those who embrace it stand to become the architects of a truly transformative gaming experience.
Source:
https://www.bgfashion.net/article/19104/80/Innovation-in-Game-Streaming-Platforms-Technology-and-Accessibility
https://bnnbreaking.com/arts/video-gaming/datchat-unveils-future-plans-promises-exciting-developments-in-ai-gaming/
https://www.xfire.com/ubisoft-game-ownership-revamped-ubisoft-plus/
https://insider-gaming.com/ubisoft-not-owning-games-comfortable/
Related Articles:
NVIDIA GPUs Power Local AI Revolution: Bane for Cloud?
The Pervasive Impact of Edge AI on Gaming, Streaming, and Ecommerce
This article is re-published from: https://www.scloud.sg/resource/latency-or-legacy-cloud-gaming-to-new-business-dimensions/
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