#the recommended system is shite

[c-nv-s07]

Top 10 WLW ships ranked based on how much I like em (coz no one is stopping me)

1. Bea Smith & Allie Novak (Ballie from Wentworth) - they were so special and sweet, their story was tragic but well written and portrayed and I'm still not over it.

2. Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught (Wayhaught from Wynonna Earp) - very cute, very gay, 12/10.

3. Ava Sharpe & Sara Lance (Avalance from Legends of tomorrow) - their relationship was actually central to the show quite a bit, they made a lot of human mistakes and fixed them, got married, very nice.

4. Alex Vause & Piper Chapman (Vauseman from Orange is the new black) - super toxic, would not recommend this relationship irl BUT on tv it works. Pragmatic Morticia Adams x annoying golden retriever combo slaps.

5. Scylla Ramshorn & Raelle Collar (Raella from Motherland fort salem) - the lovers to enemies to lovers is always fun. Plus they got gay married which is bonus points in this arbitrary system.

6. Eve & Villanelle (Villaneve from Killing Eve) - They'd be higher up if they had more time together. Unique relationship though, they were in love. Shite ending.

7. Clarke Griffin & Lexa (Clexa from The 100) - what can I say, they were good but the show was bad.

8. Ava & Beatrice (Avatrice from Warrior Nun) - we deserved more of them :( they were a really sweet couple though, both equally fucked in the cosmic sense and now they get to be together wahoo.

9. Alex Danvers & Kello Olsen (Dansen from Supergirl) - well written couple, finally giving Alex a nice plotline, family and all.

10. Lena Luthor & Kara Danvers (Supercorp from Supergirl) - Not canon why question mark. The fandom made this ship good but it definitely deserved to happen on screen.

Edit: Warrior Nun got renewed (!!!!) so they're in 7th and Clexa in 8th

[queen-of-bad-opsec]

this cat will occasionally reblog porn, and other sexual content.

do with that what you will; if you're a minor, maybe it's worth staying away.

anyways, i am the Queen of Bad Opsec. there's backstory to the name. ppl close to me may ask about it.

she/her are my pronouns.

this cat will frequently refer to itself as "this cat". she likes saying that, and . i mean, call a cat a cat, am i right?

@ all my mutuals: i suggest you go make a cohost. if shit hits the fan even more than it already has, that's where i'll be. welp, nevermind. cohost died first.

this cat is discovering the joy of colored text. please bear with me.

this cat is some flavor of trans. maybe she was a boy once, but she can't say that with certainty anymore. this cat learned the word "demigirl" recently, and is slowly rotating it in her mind. she likes the sound of "girlthing".

also, this cat is probably bi. or maybe pan? maybe she'll figure that out one day, hehe.

in any case, its gender is such that every sex with it is gay :3

this cat uses Linux. this cat will tell you to also use Linux. this is because windows is shite, macos is restrictive, and chromeos is both, plus google. big tech is a fuck, go use linux today. viva la FOSS.

this cat uses Arch Linux (btw). this cat will not recommend you use Arch Linux (btw), because Arch Linux is annoying (btw). this cat just happens to tolerate, and occasionally even enjoy, those annoyances. if you're new to linux, go use pop!os. if it werent for snap, i'd recommend ubuntu, but even putting aside issues of dated packages, why the fuck would anyone want more than one default package manager? it kinda defeats the purpose a little bit.

update: this cat has installed NixOS on its laptop. she likes!

central configurations, my beloved.

this cat loves tiling window managers. it used gnome once, but abandoned that long ago in favor of i3wm, and eventually cast that aside when it found swaywm and realized it wouldnt have to deal with picom anymore. now, this cat gets to deal with the lacking software support for Wayland in multiple critical areas (screen sharing is .bad) instead. this cat has heard of dwm and hyprland and a few others, and is a lil curious what all the hype's about, but lacks the energy to do the research. for now, she loves the rectangular simplicity of sway. she loves the low-effort nature of windows that just neatly tile side by side where you tell them to be, and wonders how she ever put up with floating window systems at all.

this cat plays video games. games it likes / has liked are Celeste, SUPERHOT (MCD too), FTL (esp Multiverse), Into the Breach, Minecraft, Satisfactory, the Metro series, Astroneer, ULTRAKILL, Dungeon of the Endless, Cyberpunk, Doom (2016 and Eternal, mostly Eternal) and Planetside 2. and more probably, but i forgor. want to play Highfleet sometime, bc i love the OST (Tanc a Lelek my beloved)

Current video games: Satisfactory, Deep Rock Galactic

[elirandom]

Having a shite day. Dad's dementia has now reached the point where he's woken up outside twice. Of course it took a ~month for him to admit it to me so now I'll have to talk to their healthcare and see what they recommend. Moving them to a home isn't it yet because they'll both get so much worse just by grieving... Everything they lost. They're in that space where they know their brain is actively working against them and grieve every small loss. Some days this is easier to deal with, now is not such a day.

And on top of that my boss announced she's leaving for another job in another town in September. I'm currently team leader under her and I just saw the even keel I was reaching by working up a system to try and manage everything just... fall apart. Maybe it'll feel better in a few days, right now I just wanna hide under a blanket. I've a vacation starting in 2 weeks, it doesn't feel like it'll be a very restful one where I can let go of work completely. Ugh, I hate this feeling.

[drfeelnothing]

Thinking about games i love to play that i also hate

Laytons mystery journey: worst layton game. Zero tension or conflict. Has two extremely intriguing mysteries that never get resolved. The puzzles are shite, like for real if i don't understand what the hell the puzzle is even asking me to do even after i read the hints its because you didnt explain it good. Also if your puzzle has technically more than one answer but itll only accept the "right" one fuck you. One puzzles hint gives you a hint to an unrelated puzzle thanks game.

Pros: i love the characters despite the writing not really fleshing them out. The dress up and decoration functions are wonderful. Canonised Alfendi.

Paper mario sticker star: please watch chuggaaconroys youtube series about this cause he lavishes in great detail every single fucking thing wrong about this not-even game. One of my favorites being its an rpg were battling enemies isnt recommended cause you waste resources and gain zero exp.

Pros: stickers pretty. Just in general i like how the game looks/the textile feel of pulling the stickers off stuff. Idk man just collecting all the stickers and putting them in the museum is why i play the game, ive never even actually beat the game i always stop before bowser. I also have a strong mental association with this game and the song Bouncer by Studio Killers. Because bouncer sounds like Bowser.

Mario & Luigi paper jam: i only play this game because ive never experienced such a grueling game like this before. The mixture of the most basic and boring world design with no plot makes going through it literal hell. But i play it anyway because i LOVE how pissed this game gets me. Zero fun. Boring music. Haunted area has no haunted house. Did i mention they banjo kazooi nuts and bolts'd it and made the world extremely large and empty?

Pros: somehow has the best battle system of any mario and luigi series game. I like how solid the ground feels in the mountain area. Thats all.

[mypotsotoso]

事前先行

"事前" (jizen)

means "in advance" or "prior to" an event or action. It refers to something that happens or is done before the main event or action takes place. For example:

事前の打ち合わせが大切です。(Jizen no uchiai ga daijidesu.) - The prior meeting is important.

事前に準備をしておくことをおすすめします。(Jizen ni junbi o shite oku koto o osusume shimasu.) - I recommend preparing in advance.

"先行" (senkō)

means "to precede" or "to go first." It refers to something that happens or is done before something else. The focus is more on the relative timing or order of events. For example:

新商品の先行発売を行います。(Shin-shōhin no senkō hassai o okonaimasu.) - We will have an early release of the new product.

先行研究では問題点が指摘されています。(Senkō kenkyū de wa mondaiten ga shiteisarete imasu.) - The preceding research has identified some issues.

In summary, "事前" (jizen) emphasizes advance preparation or actions taken before the main event, while "先行" (senkō) focuses on the relative timing or order in which things happen. Both words indicate something occurring before the main event or action, but they have slightly different nuances in their usage.

事前先行

The phrase "事前先行" (jizen senkō) is a combination of the two words you asked about earlier.

The meaning of "事前先行" is:

"Advance/preliminary implementation or execution"

This phrase implies that something is done or put into action before the main event or activity. It suggests a preparatory or initial phase that precedes the main effort.

Some examples of how "事前先行" might be used:

新製品の発売に向けて、事前先行でマーケティング調査を行う。 (Toward the release of the new product, we will conduct a marketing survey in advance/as a preliminary step.)

大規模なシステム改修の前に、事前先行で小規模な試験導入を行う。 (Before the large-scale system overhaul, we will do a preliminary/advance small-scale trial implementation.)

重要プロジェクトの立ち上げに際し、事前先行で関係部署との調整を進めている。 (In launching the important project, we are conducting advance/preliminary coordination with the relevant departments.)

So in essence, "事前先行" indicates an initial, preparatory phase that comes before the main implementation or execution of something. It combines the nuances of "in advance" (事前) and "to precede" (先行).

[firebirdsdaughter]

Well…

… My take on the Pokemon GO battle thing… Is that it’s too hard.

And this is only partially bc I am unhealthily competitive due to an inferiority complex and general anxiety and so losing makes me irrationally angry to the point I cuss at people who will never meet me and flip off my phone.

It’s that it’s not casual-player friendly. Like I’m fond of Pokemon, but I also work full time and bc of mental/physiological/psychology stuff, am often too exhausted to go out. An ankle that refuses to improve doesn’t help. At the moment, at least, I’m not going out on long walks in heavily ‘poke’d areas, catching Pokemon and fighting gyms and what not. Additionally, even I, at twenty six, lack the patience and focus to go through and meticulously learn all aspects of the game and data. While I was ‘battling,’ despite the CP limit on the match, I ran into Pokemon that did much more damage than my own did, multiple times, bc I don’t know/understand how to tell what makes a ‘good battle Pokemon’ in this version of the game. I’ve been going off the basis of high CP, but that seemed moot, and I definitely don’t get the finer details, and as a result, am regularly destroyed in matches bc I can’t predict what Pokemon are best to take (also is there a way to see your opponent’s Pokemon pre fight??? Bc I swear some people were doing that to me). Also there’s some weird stuff going on w/ timing—even though there’s supposed to be a cool down, I had one other trainer switch out their Pokemon immediately one after another. I don’t know if these are ‘live’ fights, or if it’s an ai using their avatar, but no way in hell is that fair. I shouldn’t be feeling like it’s a lucky fluke that I happened to win a couple times, there should be a sort of ‘level’ that’s comfortable and accessible for players who aren’t able to meticulously build and manage a battle team. Also the tapping is a shitty method bc I was going so hard on my poor phone screen there.

And in light of that… The reward threshholds are too high. I only got through fifteen fights bc I’m stubborn af, but those had me pissed off and wanting to rip my hair out, I feel like some people might get disheartened after the first five… And we’re meant to make it to fifty for anything to count??? Or train one hundred times? Given how long and how much attention battling takes (also the fact that training contributes nothing but new fingerprints to my screen which are a major peeve for me, so that one is definitely way too high), that’ll take ages, lots of slogging, tapping, and frustration, w/ very little reward. It’s one thing to say that it’s intended to prompt you to use all aspects of the game, but to me it feels like it’s locking a number of things behind walls that some people may never ever breach. I’ve run into so many roadblocks w/ events bc I can’t go out to raids, and I sure as hell can never win any bc I have no friends to team up w/, and I’m never on or in the right place to collaborate w/ strangers.

I just feel like there could/should be alternative methods/paths for getting through events/getting rewards that you can follow if you choose. Raising stakes and doing things for people who do want to meticulously make the perfect battle team and can take walks and fight in gyms and all that… Yeah, that’s great. But if you want people to keep w/ the app and use it and explore all the options, you need a level playing field that’s not full of enormous mountains that you just say ‘just climb this.’ I think there need to be more/better in between rewards, and a more gentle slope, on a more level field. Bc nothing destroys the spirit of community like a system that caters only to one type of people, which is what I feel like the battle system does.

[joonkorre]

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

@drarrymicrofic prompt: sunrise/sunset. ao3

Hello to the new hire,

I know you must be confused. Why are you finding this raggedy piece of paper in your brand new office? Well, first of all, there’s a reason why they keep this office shiny and clean. If it’s not spotless by sunrise, would anyone take the job?

Either way, I’m the one making sure this paper is found by new hires (perks of being a janitor with all the keys). The higher-ups don’t know this building like I do; they know that people can’t work here for even a week, and that’s it. They don’t know enough to solve the problem, they’re too scared to, and no one bothers to ask an ancient janitor.

After your first night here, though, you’ll have a lot to ask. The janitorial staff is not allowed to speak to any employee, including you, so read this document carefully. I’d say take pictures of it front and back, but taking out your phone to access them on the job might not be a good idea, especially as the night progresses.

Again, read this until the rules are tattooed in your head. Many have not heeded me. They’ve either quit or lost more than a job.

Pay attention.

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

[DO NOT DEFACE THIS DOCUMENT IN ANY MANNER]

Always arrive at your office before sundown. That’s why you’re called here early. The door doesn’t have to be locked, but stay in your office.

8 PM is when your shift starts. Begin by doing your routine check, two rounds for each floor. Finish the 1st floor in no more than 25 minutes.

If you see trespassers, don’t bother chasing them out if you see upturned rubbish bins (see Rule #8).

There will be another night guard who also has a document of their own. Greet them, remember their face. Don’t be surprised if you see a different person the next day, you know how it is around here.

You might meet another person as you walk up the stairs to the 2nd floor. They look the same as the other night guard, but there are slight differences. It doesn’t work here. Do not respond to any and all of its attempts at getting your attention.

After 9 PM, don’t look out the floor-to-ceiling window on the 3rd floor. It will be difficult and the noise will only get louder, but it is strongly recommended that you do not look. Be patient, it will be gone.

Leave the opened file cabinets be.

Be mindful of upturned rubbish bins. If you see one, hide in an office and lock it. It’s some of the building’s inhabitants’ feeding time. Wait until the second set of footsteps passes, then you can come out.

On the 4th floor, there will be a man with glasses. Sometimes you’ll see a boy or a teenager instead, but the glasses are the same. Engage in conversation with him. Deny that you work here.

If the man finds you interesting, he will walk with you as you continue your routine check, and will eventually ask you to let him out. There is no telling how he’d react, but the best response is a polite rejection as you “don’t work here and don’t have the right.” He might use other means of persuasion, in which case defend yourself and/or negotiate with him as best as you can. This is where many people have failed the test.

Between the hours of 10:21 PM and 11:09 PM, it is imperative that you return to your office and monitor the building using the security camera system. Do not go out to the courtyard before your shift is over. Only the other security guard knows the rules to navigate it.

Camera #3 has to be off. If it turns on, cover it entirely.

At 1 AM, there will be two knocks on your door. You will open it and find no one outside. Remark on it aloud, then lock your door, both bolts. Sit with your back facing it.

The paper shredder near the right of your work desk might move when you are not looking. It is always unplugged. If it turns on and alerts you of jammed paper, don’t fix it. Fingers aren’t easy for us to scrub out.

You are to stay out of your office from 2:16 AM to 3:26 AM. No source of light other than your company-issued flashlight is permitted when you are in the halls at this time, including phones and other smart devices. They will deceive you.

Camera #11 will show a being running just off-screen. When it does, check your door three times to ensure that it’s locked. You will have to re-lock it.

The man with glasses will stand in front of the 4th floor's fire exit and look directly at Camera #7. There will be a banging on your door, which will increase in intensity. No matter how tempting it is, do not open the door under any circumstances.

The man will start to talk about how you look very similar to his best friends—a man with ginger hair who can "eat anything" and a curly-haired woman who is "smarter than Einstein" are described—and will plead with you to help him escape. If you are a man with blonde hair, it’s reported that instead of comparing you to his friends, he’ll threaten to “throw you into [redacted] to rot with your fucking father when [he] gets [his] hands on you," and grows extremely hostile. Do what you can to keep him from breaking the door down.

When a camera moves, turn off all the lights in your office. Hiding under the desk for at least five minutes is encouraged if you want to lessen the chances of the creature seeing you.

Remain in your office when you’re done with your tasks until dawn. After sunrise, you’re allowed to walk around inside the building. Leave using the front entrance when your shift ends at 6 AM.

I admit this doesn't sound fun at all. But as someone who’s worked here for longer than she can remember, once you’re used to all the quirks of this place, it’s worth it. High wages, no nosy bosses hovering over your shoulders, great benefits. You can do whatever you want in your office, as long as you follow the rules. Trust me, you’ll like this job.

Just keep an eye on the monitor and the clock, will you?

P.S: If you're able to read this postscript, I know you have a wand. Call me Muggle, No-Maj, whatever, but I’ve seen it all. Here’s a final piece of advice for people like you—your neat little sticks are useless here. Feel free to try, but it’s better to leave it at home than have a broken wand, no?

[crackling noise]

“Hello, uh, Jaclynn, is it?”

-Hey, Drake. And yeah! Ha, wow, this is kinda weird. I’ve never used a walkie-talkie before.-

“Me too. Um, question, do you have a… an old-looking… letter? On your desk? Maybe in a cabinet?”

-Oh, um.-

“Jaclynn?”

-You… received that document, too? With all the rules?-

“Yes, actually. Reckon it's some sort of idiotic prank by the last night guard, right.”

-I, I don’t know, to be honest. I mean… I thought it was, but it’s. It’s starting. Whatever’s going on, it’s right there in the rules.-

[pause]

“Shite.”

-Yeah, I get that. Fuck, I’m scared, haha, fuck. Is it starting for you, also?-

“Not for another, ah, 10 minutes. I can’t leave my office until then.”

-Okay. Okay. I’m not supposed to come into the building.-

“And I’m not supposed to come out to the courtyard.”

-Fuck.-

[pause]

[distant whistling]

-Fuck, fuck, it’s here. It’s here.-

“Okay, alright, stay calm. Stay alive. We both stay alive our first night, and I’ll, I’ll get us kebabs.”

-Not sounding too confident there, mister.-

“I promise. We adapt, we survive, we get our paycheck, and we eat good food. By 6 in the morning, we’ll meet by the front gate.”

-Goodness, Drake, that sounds so nice.-

“Mhmm. I’ll have this thing turned off the whole night, you should do the same. Read your rules, okay?”

-Same goes for you. You owe me kebabs and Indian, too.-

“Noted. Good luck, Jaclynn.”

-Don’t die, Drake.-

[crackling sound]

[silence]

[dirt-grub]

i really like power metal, so stuff like blind guardian and helloween. extreme is a fun band, i also do really love system of a down and in this moment. zeal & ardor do a really unique mix of metal and soul music, it's great. type o negative for the gothic metal urge, and i am trying to find new industrial metal bands bc the ones i previously listened to are shite people but i love the subgenre lmao

YOOOOOOOOOO these are great recommendations thank you!!! started a blind guardian album and it FUCKS im def writing all these bands down :D

[fluffbyday-smutbynight]

* Random thoughts while watching Ghost Stories *

DISCLAIMER: obviously spoilers. These are just the notes I took live while whatching it; my final impression is that it’s a really entertaing film and definitely would recommend. By the third act you start to put the pieces together, but it’s clever and the mindfuck reaction at the end is totally real.

---

“I've seen your work. It's shite.” - Well, nice to meet you, too

Boy waving around dead pigeon? Check. Jittery alive pigeon? Check. Remains of dead pigeon in corner? Check. God, do I hate pigeons.

Wait, dead pigeon isn't there anymore. WTF. Yet another good reason to despise pigeons.

Noooo don't go inside creepy room

Oh no not mannequins

Aaaand here it is, the dead pigeon. Called it

Girl in yellow needs a manicure

Overly optimistic priest: prof. Goodman is not buying your crap, nah-ah

Oh no it's the boy from Black Mirror *trauma flashback, Vietnam War style*

Black Mirror's boy's mum standing still in front of the sink: oook that’s weird

Uhm I really need to re-watch Black Mirror

“Simon? ...Simon?!” Calling it out now, he's actually a ghost

Nice home decor, Simon. The satanic images really pull the room together

Ok Simon not dead but definitely creepy as fuck

“Do you wanna go and look?” “NO” - finally someone that makes sense in a horror movie

OOOOPS devil goat furry cosplayer is gone

Ghosts just love fucking up electrical systems, apparently

Noooo don't put your hand out of the car

Noooo don't get out of the car

Oh no devil goat furry cosplayer is not gone, and he’s pissed off

And he can open car doors

And he talks??

Oh fuck it's a bloody Ent

Aaaand here he is, Martin Freeman, walking too fast

"Why is it always the last key that unlocks everything?" Uuuuuh this is gonna be important

Hahahaha he snorted

Aaaand here he is, Martin Freeman looking good in a waistcoat

Wow cool fireplace, cool everything, we get it you're loaded. Why you need so many barstools, it escapes me

WHY the fuck would you have a doll of girl in yellow. WITH NO FACE. Weirdos

Is the poltergeist using the loo? Is it fixing the tap?

Woah dead woman, chill out (eheh)

"Life goes on" Oh no Martin stay with uuuuuus

OH NO Martin actually go away

That's NOT how you slick your hair back

What the fuck is this mindfuckery

Prof. Goodman gets lead into creepy place by creepy Martin: "I don't like it" - eh, no shit

Oh no poor kid has been bullied

Holy fuck the numbeeeeers

Oh noooooooooooo 

Gotta always have cat food at hand, in case of random feral baby

Martin Freeman shushing: creepy and sexy at the same time

OH NO WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK (continues for the next 10 minutes)

Aaaaaand... PIGEON

Bye guys, gotta add a new phobia to my list

.

[bomberqueen17]

“crop factor”

I am going to link to a nerdy B&H article that explains this far more thoroughly than it really needs explained, but because of a conversation i just started infodumping into @sonnetsandswingouts‘s mentions (sorry), I was inspired to go look this up.

This is about digital photography. This is about when you’re shopping for lenses. The focal distance on the lens tells you whether it’s a wide-angle or telephoto lens or what, but the numbers are not absolute; lenses are designed for different cameras, and the effective focal distance on your camera is going to depend on some things. So people talk about “the crop factor”, and that article explains it, but to sum up--

A “full-frame” digital camera, or a 35mm film camera, both have imaging areas that are the same size. A “crop-sensor” camera, which for a long time was the default in digital but a few years back they realized they could make big bucks making normies pay extra for full-frame sensors (formerly the provenance exclusively of studio professionals), has a slightly smaller sensor. So your lens, if it is designed for a full-frame camera, will have a slightly different effective focal distance on a crop-sensor camera, and vice versa.

(Every manufacturer has a different way of denoting this, but an easy shorthand, if you’re in the biz, is to recognize that certain numbers only make sense for one or the other. Your 28mm lens is amost certainly full-frame. Your 18? That’s for a crop-sensor.)

(A further confusing factor: mirrorless or compact cameras with interchangeable lens systems, such as the Sony NEX, Nikon Z, uhhh, there are others, but I don’t care about them. Fortunately, usually they have much different mounts, so the lenses aren’t compatible, so it doesn’t cross over or matter, excepting adaptors, which are a whole thing I’m so disinterested in I can’t summon the energy to explain.)

Lenses that are in compatible mounts (Canon EOS, Nikon AF-S) will work on both kinds of cameras. I own a number of full-frame lenses, some of which date from the film era, which I use on my crop-sensor camera body.

A general rule of thumb is that crop-sensor lenses are shite on full-frame cameras. (You can’t use the whole sensor. so why have the whole sensor? don’t bother with this lens.) The converse rule of thumb is that often your full-frame lenses are a waste of money on your crop-sensor cameras, since you’re only using the middle of the lens.

Part of it is that you pay extra for wide-angle in a crop-sensor. So don’t. Your all-in-ones-- (28-75, 24-70, 28-135) are not going to be useful at their wider range, because they won’t look wide-angle with your wee sensor.

But your lovely prime lenses (those are the ones with one number-- a 28mm f/1.8, a 50mm f/1.8 [for many years the default, before they invented zoom lenses; they were called “nifty fifties”], a 105mm f/2.8-- those will still be lovely on your crop-sensor camera.

So don’t buy a 28-135 for your crop-sensor DSLR, because you’re paying for a wide angle you can’t use. Buy an 18-200. (I recommend image stabilization, or VR or IS or VC or whatever the manufacturer calls it.)

If you want example images, ha ha ha, well. Do I have recent ones? No. But my entire Flickr is example images, and a great thing about Flickr is that they include the EXIF data, so it tells you what camera took the photo with what lens and what flash, if applicable, and what the settings were.

Nikkor 10.5mm f/2.8 fisheye-- this is a crop-sensor lens, and it would vignette badly on a full-frame. (Oh this is probably my favorite photo I’ve ever taken with this lens, though.)

Tamron 18-270mm all-in-one-- a crop-sensor lens, which is notably not fantastic at its extreme telephoto end but is pretty fantastic up to about 200mm, and i bring it everywhere. That first photo is at 18, this one’s at about 220, and here, alas, is at 270, where it has kind of fallen down, but it was a big ask. (Honestly though that’s better than no photo!)

My usual low-light or indoor lens is a 17-50mm f/2.8 VC, which I think is a Sigma brand-- the VC is image stabilization, which is super helpful if you’re going to shoot at slow shutter speeds. I have used it to good effect for nighttime shots.

And I have a whole stable of fast glass-- prime lenses with huge apertures-- that were super essential back when I was shooting indoor sports with a slower camera body. But in 2013 or so they hit that point where camera sensors are fast now, and that glass isn’t necessary anymore, not in the same way. I hang onto it because they take beautiful pictures, but they need so much premeditation-- I joke that I always have the wrong lens on my camera, and more often than not that wrong lens is my beloved 85mm f/1.8, because I love that lens because it has gotten me some really beautiful shots in my day and everything looks beautiful through it, but if your subject comes closer well you’re shit out of luck. (It’s the shallow depth of field, it’s how you can pick a thing and isolate your subject, that’s what makes fast glass worth it. nowadays your phone does that with a filter but it fucks it up half the time.)

Anyway if anyone has questions about what the numbers on lenses mean it’s a while since I was on the sales floor but I very much do still work in a camera store, LOL.

[harukapan]

Generic Heroine - Lyrics and translation

Generic Heroine by Zerotic Holic

Romaji

Daitai nitariyottari son'na tenkei-tekina post mitaku fotojenikku o kidotta koi ni kyōmi naishi

janjan sarakedasu kei no sutōrī mo nanka nigatedashi son'na jibun mo mendōdashi

toriaezu wa kōhī katte hitoiki tsuite mimashou ka suishō: Nonfirutāmaiserufu

dokka ni aru no ka na? Kon'na itsumo no uīkuendo garari kaete kure chau yōna torigā mā ikka kyō wa kyō de okashi tabete mōsō junkai... Un! Zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu jenerikku hiroin

kyōkan shi chau kanjō ni nanka jakkan egui tagu no kan sottoji shite tameiki nante hendesu wa

kōryū-chū janai hito to kōryū shitai son'na mujun yueni kyō mo botchi anken demo

tokimeki toka tōto-mi toka myūto shi teru wake janai yuru tsuno: Dokidoki anken

dokka ni iru ndesho? Kon'na watashi no koto mitsukedashite kureru ōji-sama nante ne saredo kyō mo ohitorisama mankitsu tenshi... Nē zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu enjerikku fō rinrabu

hibi no haitta ekishō no gamen tte nanka seikimatsu-kan kore wa kore de ari tcha ari kana? Nante nante nante ii-sōna kimi tonara

toriaezu wa kōhī nonde nanka okutte mimashou ka hyōmei: Nonfirutāmaiserufu

dokka ni aru no ka na? Kon'na itsumo no uīkuendo garari kaete kure chau yōna torigā mā ikka kyō wa kyō de okashi oishī soko wa happījan? ... Un! Zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu zenbu jenerikku hiroin

~

English

Everything are mostly similar or the same I want to see a typical unique post I'm not interested in a photogenic love

I'm a system that does not stop exposing Telling stories isn't my strong point Even someone like me is so troublesome

For the time being I'll buy a coffee Let's take a break Recommendation: Non filter myself

Is it lying somewhere? Such a usual weekend The trigger that will change the louvers Oh well, I'll eat sweets today again Delusional patrol...Yeah! It's all, all, all, all like a Generic Herione

For the sake of the sympathizing emotions The number of tags is a little ugly Closing it and taking a breath, feels weird With people who aren't interacting I want to interact with that contrast Therefore, even today in my case

Excitement or respect I'm not muted Recruiting: a heart pounding matter

You're somewhere, right? Even somebody like me Hopes to find out who my prince is Just kidding, but today as well I'm by myself An enjoying angel...Hey It's all, all, all, all like Angelic Fall In Love

The cracked LCD screen Feels like the end of the century This here, this there, is it anywhere? What if, what if, you're the one to say

For the time being, I'll drink some coffee Should I send a message Statement: Non filter myself

Is it lying somewhere? Such a usual weekend The trigger that will change the louvers Oh well, today's sweets are delicious too Isn't that happy?...Yeah! It's all, all, all, all like a Generic Herione

~

Kanji

だいたい似たり寄ったり そんな典型的なpostみたく フォトジェニックを気取った恋に興味ないし じゃんじゃんさらけ出す系の ストーリーもなんか苦手だし そんな自分も面倒だし

とりあえずはコーヒー買って 一息ついてみましょうか 推奨：ノンフィルターマイセルフ

どっかにあるのかな？ こんないつものウィークエンド ガラリ変えてくれちゃうようなトリガー まあいっか 今日は今日でお菓子食べて 妄想巡回 ...うん！ 全部全部全部全部全部 ジェネリックヒロイン

共感しちゃう感情に なんか若干エグいタグの数 そっ閉じしてタメ息なんて変ですわ 交流中じゃない人と 交流したい そんな矛盾 故に今日もぼっち案件でも

トキメキとか尊みとか ミュートしてるわけじゃない ゆる募：ドキドキ案件

どっかにいるんでしょ？ こんな私のこと 見つけ出してくれる王子様 なんてね されど今日もおひとり様 満喫天使 ...ねえ 全部全部全部全部全部 エンジェリックフォーリンラブ

ヒビの入った液晶の画面ってなんか世紀末感 これはこれでアリっちゃアリかな？ なんてなんてなんて言いそうなキミとなら

とりあえずはコーヒー飲んで なんか送ってみましょうか 表明：ノンフィルターマイセルフ

どっかにあるのかな？ こんないつものウィークエンド ガラリ変えてくれちゃうようなトリガー まあいっか 今日は今日でお菓子おいしい そこはハッピーじゃん？ ...うん！ 全部全部全部全部全部 ジェネリックヒロイン

[0itmelex0]

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬  -- one shot of how lorenzo and jesper met

It was starting to slow for the night, earlier than usual, but it was nice. It always got too busy at times for Lorenzo’s liking, could only handle staying at the bar during busy hours rather than be out at the tables taking drinks. Out there, it felt like he was going to be crushed and unable to escape the confined space. Plus with Alba working the tables and not at the bar as much, it made things feel less awkward, even if they ended things on good terms a few weeks back.

“Bartender!” a whistle made its way through the chatter at the bar, the person raised a hand briefly a few seats away.

Lorenzo finished pouring the liquor in the glass and slid it over to the patron in front of him. The bottle was placed back in its place and he snatched up the kruge the patron placed, shoving it into his apron. He strolled over to the person who called for him. Lorenzo dried his hands with his towel before resting it back on his shoulder, “What can I get ya?” His body leaned against the fine wood, hands firmly placed on the edge.

The person looked Lorenzo up and down, a small grin grew, “What do you recommend?” they raised an eyebrow. “First time here.”

“Depends on what kind of booze you like and what you can afford,” he shrugged as he looked over the person.

Despite them leaning against the bar, it was obvious they were tall and lean. Lorenzo could only assume that they were Zemeni with their darker skin and short natural hair. Their grey eyes were full of nothing but trouble.

“Well,” they pursed their lips and drummed their fingers on the wood. “What’s your favorite drink here?”

Lorenzo chewed on the inside of his cheek and shook his head. A shot glass was placed down in front of the new patron. Eye contact wasn’t broken as Lorenzo grabbed a bottle and poured the rich and deep golden liquid into the glass, “Here,” he slid the shot glass to them, “on me, since you’re new ‘round here.”

“Ooo, mystery, huh? I like mystery,” they flashed a smile. Their head was thrown back as they downed the shot.

A grin grew on Lorenzo’s face as the patron coughed some, their nose scrunched as they slammed the shot glass onto the wood.

“You like the strong stuff, Bartender, huh? What’s that stuff called? Please, get me another shot of it.”

He began to pour another, “It’s Hawk’s Remedy Whiskey,” he paused in handing the newly poured shot over. “And don’t call me that.”

The patron snatched the shot from Lorenzo’s grasp and finished it off. They sat it back on the wood and began running a finger around the rim of it, leaning in as they did, “Then what should I call you, Bartender? Darling? Love? Sweetheart? Pretty face?”

Despite the best efforts, a small laugh still left him. He bit down on his tongue and his eyes gravitated to their lips plastered with a mischievous grin. Lorenzo didn’t understand what was going through his head. I don’t even have a buzz on, only have had a few drinks tonight and those were hours ago. He was so enthralled in whatever was going on between him and this patron, it didn’t register that Alba had returned to the bar and had taken over.

He leaned forward and finally met the grey eyes. His lips curled up, “Call me Lorenzo.”

“Lorenzo. . . what a name for a bartender. Call me Jesper.”

“Hm. . . Jesper.”

He was used to being occasionally flirted with by female and male patrons alike, but he’d usually ignore them, especially the male patrons, as they all never caught his interest. Plus, they’d only ever do it to get free drinks, and not for the cheap stuff either, the only stuff he’d possibly let people occasionally get free drinks of. Yet there was something to this Jesper that was pushing specific buttons that made him annoyed, and he liked it.

Lorenzo’s stomach felt off, but it didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. . . yet at least. His heart felt as if it was get squeezed hard by a fist, then released before being squeezed again over and over again. Despite not moving, his breathing came up short.

“Just remember. . . Jesper,” his curled lips turned into a grin as this patron’s name left his mouth, “only the first drink was free to you.”

“Oh I know. . . Lorenzo,” Jesper licked his bottom lip. “Please, get me another.”

The idea of kissing a man before sounded weird, never had really crossed Lorenzo’s mind, yet in this moment. . . he wanted nothing more than to know what this Jesper’s lips felt like, even for a moment, against his. His stomach felt worse and his heart was getting squeezed and released more intensely. His breathing became more shallow. Fuck.

Lorenzo pushed himself off the bar and grabbed another shot glass. The deep and rich golden liquid was poured into both shot glasses. Jesper didn’t even have a chance to pick his glass up before Lorenzo downed his own and was pouring himself another shot.

“Looks like Bartender is joining in on the fun. Should you even be drinking on the job?” Jesper drank his shot and raised his brows.

He shut his eyes tight and his jaw clenched once he finished his third shot. Lorenzo’s tolerance for a strong whiskey was growing, but he still wasn’t used to drinking three consecutive shots of it, “Told you not to call me that. And yes, I can drink on the job if I want. . . just can’t get too fucked up.”

“But it’s such a fun name! C’mon. . .”

What have I gotten myself into? Lorenzo sighed and chewed on the inside of his cheek, “You can call me that,” he held up a hand and wiggled his fingers, “five more times. Call me that more than five more times? I’ll dislocate your jaw.” He drank two more shots.

“Wonderful, Bartender,” that grin of mischief only grew. 

Lorenzo lowered his thumb and wiggled the remaining fingers, “Eh, fuck it,” he rifled through the tips in his pocket he had earned throughout the night and grabbed out what he believed was enough. He shoved the money into the pocket of the apron where the money earned from sold drinks went before taking it off and placing it in its secured place behind the bar alongside the towel he kept on his shoulder. “You’ve caught my interest enough, Jesper. I’m done working for the night,” he grabbed the bottle of Hawk’s Remedy Whiskey by the neck of it and left from behind the bar. “C’mon, you arsehole.”

“You’re so full of mysteries,” Jesper quickly followed behind, some pep in his step. “I like that about you. Where we going?”

Lorenzo lead them to the back exit of the Leaky Tap which lead into the alleyway, “Can’t deal with being in a too crowded of a place and can’t be getting drunk behind the bar.”

“You’re already expecting to get drunk?” Jesper watched as Lorenzo began to climb the ladder that lead to the roof. He began to climb as well.

“Going to have to if I’m dealing with you. Also, Jesper? I’m not full of mysteries, I just don’t say shite sometimes.”

The two found a spot on the roof and sat side-by-side. It overlooked the Barrel, it was quiet. Well, quiet until Jesper and Lorenzo began talking and sharing the bottle of whiskey.

“So, tell me, Bartender,” Jesper chuckled as Lorenzo held up four fingers then lowered his pointer finger. “How long you’ve been in Ketterdam for?”

“Whole life. Only have known this shite place,” the alcohol was really starting to set in. Lorenzo’s head was starting to get fuzzy and the distant lights that laid over Ketterdam were blurring together. He looked down at the bandage on his left arm that peaked out from underneath his sleeves that were a few inches from his wrists. He ran his tongue over his teeth a few times, “At least with what my memory serves me.” He looked back at Jesper with a brow raised, “How about you?”

“Eh, few weeks maybe? Loving it here so far.”

“I would say just you wait, but you suit Ketterdam. I can tell,” Lorenzo took a large swig of the whiskey before handing the bottle to Jesper. He shifted his sleeves up to his elbows and leaned his head back against the brick.

Jesper took a drink from the bottle as well, giving Lorenzo a brief look. His eyes were drawn to his right arm, “Tch, you say you aren’t full of mysteries, Bartender, and next thing I know, you just casually display a tattoo,” he sat down the bottle and got a closer look.

Lorenzo’s heart jolted at feeling Jesper hand touch his arm. He yanked his arm away and open his eyes, making eye contact with the pretty grey ones of Jesper, “First off,” Lorenzo held up three fingers and lowered his middle finger, “and second off, don’t. Not when I’m not paying attention. Would have hit you if you weren’t talking.”

Jesper lifted his hands up, “Sorry.”

Lorenzo grinned before showing his inner right forearm and displaying the tattoo that was maybe a couple months old. It was of a crow perched on a cup while it dipped its beak into the mostly empty cup. The cup had a vine of thorns running up it, “Spend enough time in the Barrel, you may eventually know what it means. Doesn’t mean you should, though.”

The alcohol continued to settle into their systems more. Jesper was past the point of buzzed, he was absolutely drunk. Lorenzo on the other hand, he was past the point of drunk once he finished off the rest of the whiskey. Despite being wasted, Lorenzo was still able to be competent enough to put down his ring finger and eventually his pinky when Jesper used the nickname Lorenzo hated two more times. Not that he’d remember it once he sobered up.

Neither of them could see Ketterdam beyond the roof, everything far away was just a blur of colors. The only thing either could see clearly in their drunken state, was each other as they sat shoulder to shoulder, or as good of shoulder to shoulder that they could get with Jesper being so tall compared to Lorenzo.

“Prob. . .  Probably should go get some. . . some more to drink,” Lorenzo drummed his fingers on his legs.

Jesper shook his head and patted Lorenzo’s knee, “Nah, this is nice, Lorenzo. I think we’re good.”

Lorenzo’s cheeks grew warm from feeling Jesper’s touch on his leg, but it wasn’t noticeable from the redness in his face from drinking, “Very well,” he shrugged, “that’s fine.”

“Say, Bartender. . .” Jesper stopped, a drunken laugh left him and he looked over at Lorenzo. “Uh oh.”

His head slowly turned and he looked up at Jesper with slow blinks. That laugh and that fucking smirk on those lips of his. His arm lifted up and went for Jesper. He pushed himself up before clutching onto the side of Jesper’s face and letting their lips connect.

Jesper’s smirk grew against Lorenzo’s lips as he felt himself pushed hard against the brick from the force of Lorenzo closing space between them. Both of them breathed heavily once they pulled away.

Lorenzo’s eyes were large while he looked back at Jesper, his hand still resting on the side of his face. His heart felt like as if it was going to explode, but he liked it. The feeling of Jesper lips against his? He really like it. A soft drunken smile formed on his face as he ran his thumb against Jesper’s bottom lip. Still felt just as nice. Why is it this shithead? Why is it him who made me realize? Oh fuck it all. Lorenzo swung his leg over and sat on Jesper’s lap with his hands rested on his shoulders. For once it was Lorenzo looking down at him.

Jesper chewed on his bottom lip while looking up at Lorenzo, his hands rested firmly on Lorenzo’s legs that were on both sides of him. Everything else was blurry around him.

His hands ran up Jesper’s neck and held his face as he hungerly went down and reconnected their lips. Their bodies were flush against one another. Chills went down Lorenzo’s spine as he felt Jesper’s warm hands run under the back of his shirt and up his bare back before feeling Jesper’s fingers dig. They separated for a brief second, catching their breath. Jesper began kissing along Lorenzo’s jawline and then down his neck. He undid a few of Lorenzo’s buttons, then began kissing and biting his collarbone. Lorenzo’s breathing was shallow, his drunken smile still on his face. His fingers entangled in Jesper’s hair, sometimes gripping onto it tightly. Despite being wasted, he was hyperaware at Jesper’s touch from the love bites be was leaving all over Lorenzo’s neck and collarbone to the feeling of Jesper unbuttoning his shirt more and more.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbled.

Jesper’s hands stopped and his lips hovered over Lorenzo’s skin.

“I. . . I can’t,” Lorenzo lifted himself off of Jesper’s lap and flopped onto the roof. “I’m sorry, I just. . .”

“It’s okay, Lorenzo,” Jesper chuckled breathlessly as he watched Lorenzo laying. “That was nice by itself. You’re a great kisser. It’ll be hard not to kiss you again until you’re ready.”

“Th-Thanks, so are you. I. . . I need to go,” Lorenzo stumbled to his feet and would have fell back to the ground if Jesper didn’t scramble to catch the wasted Lorenzo.

“Let me help you,” Jesper continued to hold onto Lorenzo, the only thing keeping the wasted man up. He thanked the saints that despite being drunk himself, he was competent enough to be aware, “Is there a different way down aside from the ladder?”

“Ya,” Lorenzo lazily gestured towards the back of the roof while leaning on Jesper. “There’s. . . there’s a fire escape on the side. Window to my room is actually on the fire escape.”

“Wait. . . you live here? Well damn,” he laughed briefly before guiding Lorenzo towards the direction of the fire escape.

“Mhm, my mother owns the Tap.”

Both, very intoxicated, stumbled down the steps of the fire escape to the second highest level of the building. Lorenzo pulled himself out of Jesper’s hold and he leaned against the window.

He fumbled with opening the window, “Right here. . . yeah right here,” he swung the window open. “G’bye, Jesper. You’re annoying as fuck, but I like ya,” Lorenzo managed his way inside the window into the dark room, then closed the window behind him.

“Like you too,” Jesper murmured to himself as Lorenzo closed the window. He ran his hand over his jawline, “What a way to try and dislocate my jaw, Bartender.” He finished his way down the fire escape and, even in his drunken state, made his way to a secure enough place to pass out safely.

A throbbing headache was the first thing that hit Lorenzo when he woke up midday, “Fuckin. . . damn.” He rubbed his eyes and buried his face back into the pillow. Next thing that hit him was the small ache all over his neck and collarbone. The ache subdued as he began rubbing his hand over the area. What in the saints happened last night? Was on the roof with that Jesper guy, drinking, but. . . how did I end up in bed? Lorenzo groaned and he buried himself deeper in bed, then he mumbled to himself,

“That pretty shite was fun to drink with.”

[everygame]

Double Dragon (Nintendo Switch)

Developed/Published by: Technos Japan / Arc System Works Released: 20/02/2020 Completed: 01/08/2020 Completion: Beat it. Trophies / Achievements: n/a

Wayhey! You know, I’ve actually beaten the arcade version of this, and I wrote it up… thirteen… years… ago… ah fuck I’m ancient. Anyway the arcade version of Double Dragon is actually extremely shite no matter what anyone tells you for the very reasons I explain there, most notably that you can beat the thing just by doing one move over and over.

[“Hang on, you just reviewed Neketsu Renegade Kunio-Kun which you beat by doing the jumping kick over and over again. How is that different?”--Quizzical Ed.]

Aye alright fair enough. Maybe I was just a bit dazzled by the fact that it attempted complexity. Anyway, the nice thing is that Double Dragon on NES is much, much better than the arcade original, even if it’s louping with the same sort of “erk, we’ve only made so many levels, make the end impossible” shite that basically every NES game had apart from the ones where they went “make the entire thing impossible.”

Much like Renegade/Kunio-Kun, I was impressed here that it tries to make battles interesting with enemies that duck and try and counter you. It doesn’t really work (you can’t, really, do anything about it) but it almost does. It’s definitely wildly technically limited though: they can only manage a max of two the same enemies at once, and weapons disappear after an encounter. However, they have thrown in a fairly charming and simplistic RPG element with the fact you unlock moves as you go, and that does keep it interesting.

This wouldn’t be recommendable, really on anything except the Double Dragon & Kunio-kun: Retro Brawler Bundle because it includes some quality improvements (no flicker!) and you can save to cheese through the last battle which requires you beat a pair of every enemy before the second-to-last boss without losing a life. 

It’s interesting, really. I really can’t remember how I’d have felt as a kid playing these but I think that I’d probably have eventually got pure raging at the pointlessly hard ending of this. As an adult, totally sanguine about saving at the start of a level and cheesing things that are obviously a pain, I just get to enjoy playing the game without needing to engage with the old concept of “challenge” which usually meant “time investment.” And I did!

Will I ever play it again? I’m good!

Final Thought: Oh! Interestingly this discards the z-movement on a lot of levels to include platforming instead. It doesn’t really work, but it’s intriguing to see they didn’t think that just brawler content was enough to go on (and frankly, it is what makes this game more interesting.)

[dollydeez]

Chapter One Sneak Peek

I’m currently rewriting the ending and haven’t done final edits yet, but I thought I’d go ahead and post the first chapter of Lesbian Robots From Space to give people an idea of what I’m going for with this project. So here it is, Chapter One: Get Lost!

I spent most of my free time wandering around the space station. There wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen, but I’m well known enough in this sector that I pick up just as much business wandering around as sitting in my office. It’s a rough part of the galaxy, so it’s not uncommon for your affairs to get FUBAR. There’s four levels to the thing, going from the hangar at the gravitational bottom to the flats at the top, with a shopping centre and office section respectively in between. I don’t know why old space movies liked spherical buildings, can you imagine how annoying that’d be? Use a cube like a thinking being and maximize your available space. If my flat had a curved ceiling I’d start a riot. And having the hangar in the middle, I mean I guess for military constructions but what the fat cats want for their civilian developments is for people to have to walk through as much commercial space as possible.

My favourite part was checking out the hangar, and not just because it was a hotspot for people on the run. So many ships, from all over, docked here. Swear to god, I saw one that looked exactly like a pickle. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. I mean, until the crew started spilling out and medics had to be called. People don’t land here because they want to check it out, they land here because they are out of options. We are the Saint Jude of scum. The regular clientele had an effect on the shops offered. Shite specific for those living here were automated, usually owned by the station. Stuff like furniture stores, clothes shops and the grocer’s. There were a couple people trying to hack out a living with their cooking, but… let’s just say if they were good they’d be elsewhere. Hell do I know, I never went into any of those disease factories. Most of the other shops sold guns, parts and medical supplies. It wasn’t the worst place in the world to poke around, it was always entertaining to see some lost yokel argue with someone, who’s surrounded by guns mind you, seemingly unaware that this is absolutely the place your annoying corpse would be chucked into space. I was good friends with Doc, the lad who ran the station’s main medical bay. He was a good kid, just made some mistakes early on and had to move his practice off world. Well, he wasn’t bad. Every so often he’d get bored doing his work. You’d know when to keep your issues to yourself when you saw some poor bastard limping around the food court with the wrong number of limbs, or the right number but on the wrong side. He usually stayed up in his office, however, across from mine. We were friendly enough, and he told his staff to let me wander around the wards.

The limited number of staff made this an absolutely desperate place to seek medical attention. If you weren’t of the species represented in the OR, you might have to cling to life as some doofus flips through a book trying to figure out what the hell you are. So, why not have a little conversation? I’d swoop in, say something about how they seemed to be in some heap of trouble, and most of the time I’d get a job. Money up front of course, and if they argued this point I’d make sure they were clear on how friendly I was with the medic bay. This tactic meant that sometimes they’d take my card and never be heard from again. Which is fine, credits spend the same, but it doesn’t do much for word of mouth. I knew I’d hit the jackpot when someone, gushing blood, would look up with wide eyes and ask if I was Lisa Dean. Why yes, and your price just doubled. Hey, if they know my track record I can put it up front rather than racking up bullshit expenses. If they argue about the rate their buddy got, I’d tell them that if I wasn’t worth it I wouldn’t get recommended. Here I hand them my card, because if they’re bleeding there’s someone who caused that blood and they can get looked for somewhere else. But if they approach me as I’m wandering the rest of the station, I’d invite them up to my office.

I’m still proud of how well I fixed up the place; when I moved in it was little more than a ratty little hole in the wall, wallpaper peeling, lightbulb flickering, dark and damp, reeking of mold, somehow there was a leak from the flats upstairs despite the fact this is a space station and, well, that feels concerning. But I’d moved in with plenty of disposable income and plenty of time, so I made use of the automated stores down stairs. I thought it’d be neat to get some wood inside there, so there was a jarring feeling when you walk in from the outside. Most of the station is boring polished steel, blinking lights, then you enter my office and it’s wood. Getting books for the shelf was a pain, it’s the one thing the station doesn’t sell, so for a while I looked like a real cunt with plenty of shelf space and a handful of books. People would ask about it, which was annoying but, alright, it was a compounding factor on how shady it all seemed, and I’d tell them I’d lost most of my books in the move and was waiting for them to arrive. Which was true enough, at least enough to shut them up about it. But they’d sit across from my desk and tell me the details of their woes, then I’d tell them how I’d solve it for them. It was a pretty good system. Sometimes, I’d have to get them back into the office to go over some details or expenses. I started out my practice letting the expenses slide in exchange for a favour, which people are usually grateful enough to accept, so at this point it was generally understood that you should pay your expenses when I tell you to. When I wanted to get out of the flat but didn’t want to wander around the station, I’d hang out in my office. People coming in at these times were the most annoying, because usually if I don’t want to do a job I can get out of it easily. In the medbay, they’re dying so they’re not in the position to chase after me. Elsewhere, I can either pretend they’ve got the wrong person or give some extravagant price that they won’t concede to. Every so often, I got roped into a job I don’t want to do and I resent it. I even resent it when people come into my office uninvited and put me in the awkward position of turning them away. Usually if I’m upfront about how I find their case boring or trivial, they’ll get all offended and leave. Some require more pushing.

The day began normally. I got up, got ready, and headed out into the world. I didn’t have much going on, and was on the edge of liking it that way. The station was pretty dead for once, with the usually chaotic and filled hangar being nearly empty. I think the only ships there might have belonged to the few residents that owned one. I felt sorry, and still do, for the poor fuckers stuck on that hellhole. Usually what happened was that someone, not knowing better, would land from a nearby planet with little more than a dream and an idea of the cheap real estate. Then they’d chop their ship at one of the shops upstairs, grab a place and a store front, and slowly regret their decision. It was cheap real estate, almost offensively so, but that was because no one in their right mind would show up unless under duress. Sure, Doc might get a poor family that’d gained just enough capital to get up there for his skills, but with orderlies mostly running the OR they usually were disappointed. Then they’d have a “well, we’re here, sad and hungry” meal from one of the subpar restaurants before heading back to their planet. So those who sold their way off to settle here were more or less stuck in relative poverty. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy if a legitimately talented chef or whatever risked everything to set up shop here and succeeded their way back off, but I’ve never seen it happen. Even when someone has been somewhat of a draw, it was never enough to get a ship and enough money to set up somewhere nicer. The only one I’ve seen get close is Synthia Gray, who garnered good reviews and quite a few people going out of their way to try her food. But the area’s too dangerous for anyone who could have a real impact, or the masses that might do the same, to come by. I just remember them packing up all her stuff one day, saying it’d been auctioned off. Turns out she decided to try her luck leaving the station, only without a ship or a suit. Sweet girl, I was always sorry it happened to her, but it was inevitable as soon as she stepped foot here. People don’t leave, not when they’re attached to it financially.

My theory is that the owners rig the price just so in order to attract desperate people. Those people pay rent, usually two forms of rent, while buying all their goods from the company and paying “taxes” on all the money they make. It’s an absolute racket, designed to keep this sorry excuse of a space station staffed enough to keep it used and profitable. Most people end up going into debt after settling. If the company had a heart, they’d offer some sort of way off when people go broke, but instead they allow people to run up the score. It’s indentured servitude to make the station seem full and welcoming to anyone willing to put money into a bad investment.

In any case, I was one of the few fortunate enough to have a ship still in the hangar. Which was good news for both me and the station itself, as I needed it to work. Can’t quite look into things if I’m stuck on a hunk of metal orbiting aimlessly around some nothing gas giant. I like to keep it tuned up, making sure it’s ready to go at a moment’s notice and taking it for a short spin every so often to make sure it can, in fact, work. I love my ship, but I feel like other people feel that on an entirely different level. It’s a reliable and necessary tool, but I don’t see much need in worrying about it being clean or looking nice or whatever. I’ll get a Wash Me on the window if I haven’t taken it out in too long, but I’ll just scrub it off. As long as it gets me from point A to point B I’m happy with it. After I gave it a good look over, because what the fuck else was I going to do, I headed up to the shopping area to wander around for a little bit. It was boring. Even Doc’s was mostly empty, with the one person being looked after having cut himself deeply out of sheer clumsiness. I wasn’t quite ready to go back to the flat, I wanted to keep it a space I felt good in, so I headed back to my office. And there was someone waiting for me. I did not like this, and I’m still not super happy about it.

She was sat in my office chair, usually reserved for active clients, and dressed in all black. Even when I walked in, she continued boohooing into her snot rag, you know how these mucus gremlins are, with loud and halting cries. I could see flakes of red hair poking out of her garish black hat, complete with a little veil in front of her face. I cleared my throat and she finally turned around.

“Are you Lisa Dean?”

“That’s what it says on the door.”

I made my way to my desk, and she looked up at me from her hunched posture with wet eyes. I had to awkwardly shimmy between the close wall and my desk, an act I don’t like doing in front of people who might be deciding to pay me, before sitting down. She could hardly put words together and babbled incoherently.

“I’m guessing someone’s dead?”

Mistake. This set her off with a loud wail and I had to wait it out. I flipped through an old magazine on my desk and cursed myself for not picking up a newspaper. Apparently those skis were still available with an exclusive discount. Eventually her sobs started to stabilize and it seemed as though she were about to speak, so I tilted the magazine down.

“My wife… she’s gone!”

This had my attention. A lover, possibly murdered, possibly missing, but either way a mystery? Grand, sounds to be quite the adventure.

“So, in your words, what’s happened?”

She sniffled a bit, then took a few deep breaths to collect herself.

“I woke up one day and she was gone, with a note left saying she’d left and her ship was gone. But I know she would have never done something like that!”

“I’m not saying I won’t take the case, but given the evidence she just left don’t you think this getup is a bit much?”

“She would never! She would never do such a thing, the possibility wouldn’t even be in her programming it’s so antithetical-”

“Whoa, stop right there. Her programming?”

“She was a robot, but what we had was so real.”

“Buy another.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your bot babe was defective. Buy. Another.”

I brought the magazine back up to my face and let her spit and sputter. She seemed the type to have always gotten her way, daddy’s favourite, and I’ll be honest I took some joy in saying no. She composed herself and stood, placing a calling card on my desk.

“Regardless, I’ve heard you’re the best. If you change your mind, please give me a call.”

“Mkay.”

She kept standing there, looming over me, until I placed the square into my desk drawer. Who even does that? A square card? Where is that meant to go? A purse I suppose, so I’ll respect the specificity of use, but if she was married it was an oversight to not update it for easier storage. That said, I’m probably over analysing it and should concentrate on telling the story. That’s what’s important, the story, not any of these bullshit details. In all honesty, I might just be bored and pointing out shite like this for the drama. In any case, she took her leave and I went back to reading my magazine. Halfway into an article on exercise routines, for whatever reason, I put it down to go buy a paper because if I had to keep reading this sports magazine I’d punch a hole in the station wall.

I was sitting in the local saloon, watching Doc get absolutely hammered. From that and the blood drenching his coat, you’d assume he’d had a rough day and was having to work through some heavy shite. You would be wrong. Not to suggest he is drenched in blood on a daily basis, although it isn’t an unusual occurrence, but he did enjoy drinking until he had to be carried back upstairs. It was a bad idea to say it, or even imply it, but there was a common understanding that this habit most likely landed him on the station. It was generally accepted that you do not want to piss off the person who has a say in you getting patched up, and if you’re going to be doing something especially dangerous, do it early to be on the safe side. So he’s leaning on the bar, gripping his beer as if it was about to float away, and grimacing. The poor busboy was holding his mop by the tip of the handle to mop up the pool of blood slowly forming underneath Doc’s stool and holding his breath in an effort not to be noticed. I wouldn’t call Doc a mean drunk, as that would imply he was different the rest of the time. Bless him, he was a bastard but wholly honest about it. I leaned forward as he started mumbling, the reek of beer and whisky pouring from his mouth more freely than from the taps, just in case he was trying to talk to me. He bolted upright and grabbed me by the lapel, pulling me close and forcing eye contact.

“No one here today! Only the cunts showed! Cunts, all of them, screaming and bleeding and all but pissing themselves, whining for their mammies!”

He slumped back against the bar and placed his face into his arms, and Frankie, our bartender, looked over to me. I nodded, resenting the fact I’d need a wash after taking him to his place. He turned his head, ear now pressed firmly against the bar and seemed like he was looking for a response.

“Yeah, Doc, absolutely awful. Only job offer I got was to locate a missing bot, wasn’t about to take a salvage job.”

He pushed himself up, working his way into a maniacal laugh, and I had to put a hand on his back to keep him from going arse over teakettle.

“What’s her name?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have her card upstairs, she wouldn’t leave until I took it.”

“She fit?”

“Not your type, I don’t think.”

“Certainly ways to change that. ‘Not my type’, feh! Insult my skills.”

Knocking my arm away, he took another swig of beer and lied back down on the counter. He should have been cut off hours ago, but Frankie was in the odd position of having to poison the man who might save her life, or he might not out of spite. Well, if you were lucky he’d leave it at that. Most of the time, the blood was from boredom more than altruism. If you made the mistake of causing a ruckus in his med bay, well let’s just say that being handed over to Doc to be handled personally usually was a bad sign. He did personally take care of station residents, at least the ones whose death would be inconvenient for him, but, again, that was only a good thing at the right time of day. Stubborn as a mule, if he wanted to be hands on begod no one would stop him. Which is unfortunate for everyone, including Doc. That’s how Frankie got her job, and it took him almost a year to adjust.

Luckily, Doc wouldn’t argue against the saloon closing and would allow himself to be walked home, usually with a takeaway cup in tow. As the clock struck three, I picked him up and half dragged him away from the bar. He woke up enough to start struggling, reaching toward where he had been with both arms extended.

“Drink!”

“Alright, give me a second.”

I sat him back down on his stool and leaned him on his arm so he’d stay upright. Frankie, who always waited and watched to make sure Doc left without a fuss, already had his cup ready and mouthed a thank you. When I handed him the paper cup, he took a few sips from his straw, readied himself and nodded. He could almost stand, so I had to prop him up by the armpit and lead him to the elevator.

“Real sorry situation.”

“Mhm.”

It was hard to make out the words, but regardless of what he was talking about I was not about to treat it as anything but gospel. He was slumped in the corner of the elevator, barely supporting himself on the banister. The one advantage of helping Doc home is that, despite how busy it is at this time of night, we’d get an elevator to ourselves for a quick trip home. It was a quieter trip than most nights, as he was just staring down at his cup. The ones where he was overly rowdy were definitely worse, but I enjoyed hearing him drunkenly ramble about some random topic. I don’t know if him being a doctor made it more or less weird, but he was well read on the most obscure topics. He once described, in detail, the history of the human homeworld, but with a topic like that it was equally plausible he was making up most of it. Either way was entertaining. But this, this was just sad. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I helped him out into the hallway.

“Right, so how far do you need?”

“Bed.”

His flat was fairly close to the elevator, either by planning on his part or coincidence, so it wasn’t too much trouble. I tried to prop him up against the wall to search him for his keys, but he just slid down it. He slapped my hand away when I tried to get to his pockets anyway.

“Leave here.”

“You know you’ll be furious tomorrow if I do.”

“Fair.”

Pawing at his pants, he managed to drop the keys onto the floor. I unlocked the door, then got him up and into the apartment. Ratty is the best way to describe it. I am fully aware we are off-planet, but you could easily convince me there’s any number of vermin among the wreckage. Due to his importance to the maintenance of the place, I’m pretty sure he’s paid more than anyone here, especially since most people don’t get paid at all, but you couldn’t tell from the state of his flat. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the brokest of all of us, but I don’t think that even matters to him. This wasn’t the first time I had to take him inside, but I always had to adjust to the absolute squalor. It never fully sunk in, the way he lived, if you want to call it that.

There was a relatively clean recliner in the telly area, so I left him there while I got his bed ready. I set up a glass of water and some paracetamol for him in the morning, then brought him over to tuck him in. He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle of the mattress, so I put the duvet over him. We were close, but it was well established that he’d rather sleep fully clothed than go through the further indignity of being stripped. The one time I tried, he fought back with tears in his eyes. I didn’t see much, but I remember a large scar across his middle. I’m happy not knowing.

After I got upstairs and cleaned myself up, I sat down on my couch. Any other day, a rejected case would be the last thing on my mind, but I couldn’t help thinking about the one I found in my office. If she wants to waste her money having someone turn up a lost appliance, I have no issue with it, but the gall of seeking me out and expecting me to waste my time with that nonsense was infuriating. But it was none of my business, I made that quite clear. I lied down on the couch and flipped on the telly, not ready to power down for the night. Nothing good was on, so I shuffled through the channels and watched the shadows dance on the wall. It would be a safety nightmare, but times like these I desperately wished we could have windows. There were a couple planets close enough to watch, sitting in a ship outside, and plenty of stars of course. I always loved the look of it, the majesty of the universe, but there was hardly an opportunity to enjoy it anymore. Well, if I wanted it I could have it, but there didn’t seem to be a point to it. I find work by being in the station, and that pays the bills. Plus, the stars just looked duller nowadays. Better off to stay at home and watch whatever brain drain they’re pumping out to the screens of the galaxy.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Red Goblin: Red Death #1 Thoughts

To my surprise this was an anthology comic book so I’ll be covering all three stories separately.

I really should’ve covered this back around Halloween as it was clearly written and released to capitalize upon that occasion.

But since life got in the way and I’m a British person who dismisses Halloween as Americanized horseshite you are getting this now.

So an important thing to note about this issue is that it was clearly written to capitalize upon Absolute Carnage. In fact I and other people were downright certain that this would be set during or after AC, and would be the inevitable result of Norman Osborn’s subplot throughout the story. Particularly the original motion comics hosted on Marvel’s official Youtube page.

My thinking was the end result of those and everything else that’d happen to Norman in AC was going to lead to him regaining his mind and thus become Red Goblin again, as the latter is a form created from Norman+the symbiote, whilst throughout AC Norman with Cletus’ mind has simply looked like classic Carnage.

That isn’t what this comic book is.

In fact beyond a cash in, I have no idea why Marvel thought these stories were worth publishing.

Maybe they believed they could trick people as they tricked me. Hopefully they wanted to milk the Red Goblin brand one last time before getting rid of it, much as they tried to milk the Scarlet Spider brand one last time before Ben Reilly became Spider-Man.

Or maybe they just knew that Halloween would coincide with Absolute Carnage so using a famously Halloween themed villain who is also kinda sorta Carnage made sense.

Because you see folks every one of these stories takes place BEFORE Absolute Carnage. In fact with one possible exception they all take place before ASM #800!

This really should’ve been published during or after that comic book as like ASM #800.1. In fact for those who (somehow) ENJOYED the Red Goblin story arc I’d honestly recommend reading it after ASM #800 or reading the three stories at roughly the points at which they happen in-universe during that arc.

Or don’t because frankly these are all shite. Nevertheless I’ll tell you as best I can when roughly they should occur chronologically. That ‘as best I can’ qualifier is there because I only skimmed Red Goblin (because fuck that shit is why) and because some of these are confusing to place.

The first story is called ‘Great Responsibility’, and it takes place roughly after ASM #796.

It raises an amusing thematic idea, that from Norman’s twisted point of view it is his responsibility to satisfy the Carnage symbiote’s bloodlust in order to have access to it’s great power.

But the story baffling plays Norman as essentially opposed to senseless violence.

Um...that’s kinda accurate I suppose.

It depends very much on how much you are willing to give the author the benefit of the doubt. Me personally, that’s not much if any.

Because you could MAYBE argue that from Norman’s point of view everything he says regarding killing is true, that he only killed out of necessity and he’s not always got the best perception of reality and ethics so he might be conveniently forgetting the times he definitely didn’t kill out of necessity (like I dunno, Gwen Stacy or Flash Thompson!).

But what’s much more likely to my eyes is that the writer was either desperately trying to find a way to distinguish one psychopathic killer from another to create conflict or more likely...he just didn’t know/get Norman’s character in the first place.

The sad thing is Norman is definitely NOT like Carnage in his attitude to killing.

Oh, he’s a sadist and a mass murderer, but there are subtle differences. Carnage kills for the sheer thrill of it and he doesn’t tend to savour the experience. He’ll kill randomly anyone in randomly anyway. Norman though, Norman kills people who get in his way, or out of spite, or with a specific intent to hurt someone else.

Case in point he abducted and killed Gwen Stacy partially due to holding a grudge against her personally but more significantly due to holding a grudge against Spider-Man. In particular he knocked her off the bridge out of pure spite so he couldn’t rescue her.

In theory though had Gwen never been part of Norman or Peter’s social circle, she’d have never found herself harmed by Norman. In contrast had she lived she, like everyone else, was a potential victim of Carnage waiting to happen because he’ll kill anyone, anywhere, anytime for any reason.

To Norman he’d never be reluctant to engage in senseless murder in this context as it’s simply collateral damage of what amounts to a business relationship with the symbiote. And Norman if anything, is a businessman. In a sense that’s what the whole first page (which is actually pretty well paced and panelled) is about, it’s just that Norman’s reluctance doesn’t ring true and he’s way less cold and calculating than he normally would be.

As for the Carnage symbiote, maybe I’m forgetting something or not read enough Carnage stories (I did read and skim A LOT though to prep for Absolute Carnage) but I felt it was a little bit too articulate and human considering it’s typical characterization. I’m willing to concede to being wrong on that though is symbiote experts can cite sources to the contrary.

I also don’t quite understand why they’re communicating verbally, let alone in public, considering that the symbiotes systemically can talk to you in their heads. Then again I admit that’s not been a consistent rule, even back in the earlierst Venom stories.

What is definitely IS a consistent rule though is that the symbiotes CAN kill without hosts which is the crux of this whole story.

Norman himself must actively participate in senseless murder to satiate the symbiote, it can’t just do it on it’s own.

This is another example of the direction of the story being okay but the justifications for that direction being dumb. Why not simply have the symbiote threaten to leave Norman or suggest killing on it’s own before returning to him, but Norman not trusting it to come back?

What’s especially dumb is that a symbiote literally kills in one of the motion comics in Absolute Carnage and Venom killed Angelo Fortunato by abandoning him mid-leap. Hell it forced Brock to jump off of buildings in Paul Jenkins’ run.

Now when it comes to the scenes of Red Goblin selecting targets there is some nice characterization to be had for Norman. His intelligence is on display as he wants to select people who wouldn’t arouse suspicion (although I don’t know why, surely people would just presume it’s Carnage not him thus still giving him the element of surprise when he finally fights Spidey). To this end he refuses to kill a man with a wedding ring. Instead, in a very Norman move, he suggests a disabled person.

His selection of a drug dealer who lives out of the city is a logical one. But his rationale that the world would be better without him is illogical as Norman doesn’t not give a fuck about the world’s well being at large. That same moment has an example of the Carnage mischaracterization I spoke of. The symbiote talks the way Cletus would with pop culture references and all, but that’s not how the symbiote itself would talk.

The symbiote is in character though when it goes off book and naturally escalates the violence to a much larger degree than Norman wanted.

That’s all fine but Norman’s characterization as kinda...beta and horrified by this violence is really, really not. Similarly if Norman wanted to keep a low profile whilst murdering it makes no sense for his face to be exposed literally outside the burning building he just slaughtered people in.

There is one great part about that though, which is when Norman and Carnage’s dialogue merges into one. That’s a great feat on the lettering department’s hands.

There is however a weird tease in that same scene where there is a survivor spying on Red Goblin. I don’t get it? He doesn’t show back up in this story or the Red Goblin arc, so where is this going? Nowhere would be my bet.

A final thing to note is that the art by Pete Woods looks really, really great!

Over all this was an unnecessary, filleriffic and generally lame story that didn’t need to be told.

[mantra4ia]

Preface: forgive me as, due to a recent struggle with insomnia carving holes in my concentration, my thought process may be an exhausting stream of consciousness regarding both literal and figurative corpses in the water:

Humans have an analytical weakness in processing vast quantities of data. Therefore we intake statistics, mass scales of human suffering for instance — famine, homelessness, addiction, and all the other tributaries to this large body called poverty — as more remote and less impactful to us personally. This classification isn't exactly conscious, but rather because abstractions like statistics have the potential to dehumanize, water down tangibility, dilute urgency, etc. AKA corpses in the ocean: while the quantity is so vast, and is therefore strongly relevant, it is far more removed for us my a vast ocean of information and environmental factors vying for our immediate and finite attention/empathy that it creates a barrier to our visceral response and corrective reaction to address the corpses and how they got there. Whereas if it has and imminent impact on us — for example a family or close community member displaced by domestic violence is now homeless — we tend to act with more prompt and decisive intervention because there's a face on the situation (providing temporary shelter with a spare room, the community taking turns to provide a meal, getting property back from the abuser, offering help to navigate the pros and cons of established institutions with the goal of finding protection and permanent shelter) — which is why social aid networks and populist ideals are essential to life. Get the corpse out of the pool, identify it, figure out who put it there.

There are sociological and psychological terms for this kind of analytical dissonance, but my recall is shite at the moment. Sidenote: the Vlogbrothers and Complexly make an effort to discuss these kinds of life topics regularly. I highly recommend their content on water/life/empathy and the human condition.

Similarly, and here we come to the more literal part of corpse:water ratio, the corpses in an ocean or even a lake — comparatively small but to a singular human perspective still vast — accumulate over a gulf of time. That aquatic word choice is intentional because historical injustice or severe but prolonged injustice — see the Flint Michigan toxic *ironically* water scandal that while shocking, protracted over 8 years received less attention and action while still poisoning people until just this week the charges were dropped against their criminal governor and there was no mass outcry in response— is another distraction factor that removes humans in the ocean from decisive action to acknowledge/excavate the corpses, preferring instead to swim among and potentially become them. Add to consideration that the corpses in water over time (C/W/T) were sunk in the ocean for various reasons/circumstances (C/W/T/R), further dividing our finite attention from the core issue "corpse in the water" with a layer of decision paralysis. Which corpse do we recover first? Those who committed suicide (healthcare crises)? Those who fell in and drown do to faulty guardrails (infrastructure and social safety negligence, systemic corruption)? Those who did not survive a perilous refugee crossing (casualties of persecution, immigration policy, resource scarcity, and climate crisis)? Those who were murdered on sunken slave ships (local and systemic racism baked into our foundations in part due to generations of lapse and compounded damage in reparation and reconstruction)? How would we begin to identify the who's and why's of each one given the elapsed time that obscures some of our evidence? Within the muck of this decision paralysis, some people fail to realize that they are not the only swimmer in the ocean and by this liberation they can metaphorically zoom focus to help the excavation and/or identification of a corpse, then zoom pan to keep swimming in the vast body of water. Or, equally helpful, to lifeguard by identifying/aiding swimmers in distress — who need help getting out of the riptide so that they don't fall victim to "reasons" that create another corpse — who may then recover and help others.

But unfortunately, the lakes and oceans are deep and filled with distractions to our attention and empathy, so often we forget about the corpses due to the large body of water surrounding us, until we see someone in front of us drowning or until the climate — both literal and social— causes a drought that drops water level to an all-time low and reveals decades old bodies thrown into barrels and hidden/drowned in Lake Mead. And then we are all abruptly forced to deal with the corpses in the water and the corrupt actions that put them there.

Or else give up swimming.

In today's tangential synopsis, we touched on: pools, streams (of consciousness), lakes, oceans, social and economic rights and injustices, drought, climate change and crisis, racism, infrastructure, immigration, refugees, psychology and sociology, just keep swimming, Dory-like distractions, abstractions and how they can lead to stagnancy or decision paralysis, lifeguarding, social safety nets, social aid networks, the Flint Michigan water crisis and the intolerable corruption of ex Governor Rick Snyder, and how this all relates to the human acclimation of the corpse:water ratio, which we should check our tolerance to. And insomnia.

Thank you.

✋🌊🖐️‼️🆘🦺🫂