#this is from yesterdays show in san francisco

[beesgobzzzing]

Melodifestivalen coverage translation collection

From here

Hooja, Mårdis and Käärijä are at the arena.

The trio has spent the night together in a rented cabin outside of Luleå, where they celebrated the release of their single "San Francisco Boy" and now they have just arrived at Mello's press room to answer some questions.

We were first in line and we will post some videos, pictures, and talking points starting now. [Bees note: The article is a live commentary they kept running the whole night, I'm posting the snippets of K and Hooja that I can find]

--

The trio Hooja, Mårdis and Käärijä are soon going to perform their song live, for the first time in front of an audience. Friday's dress rehearsal starts at 19.00.

"It's not going to be just us on stage," Hooja reveals when we meet the trio at Coop Arena.

"And this choreography does demand some coordination. You almost fell down a few times at rehearsal yesterday," says Mårdis.

Is this the biggest number you've ever done?

"It's not just us on stage, like I said, it's pretty big - you can say that, yeah. With all the lights and everything happening on stage. But it is Mello, so that's how it's supposed to be."

--

Regarding the stay at the cabin I mentioned earlier, the musicians took the chance to get to know each other while they're performing at Mello. This was the third time they've met up, previously having met to record a music video and make the song.

On Thursday they rehearsed the number at Coop Arena during huge secrecy, and then they left for their cabin to have a celebratory night.

"We didn't ~party~ [Bees note: when someone up north calls something a party, it's sort of insinuating that you're getting black out drunk], but we did have a bit of a live stream into the late hours of the night when the song was released," Hooja tells us.

Mårdis turned to Jere Pöyhönen (Käärijä's real name) and said:

"Everyone was supposed to sleep at the cabin, but you didn't. Can you tell them why?"

"I don't sleep," the Finn replied, who has never been in northern Sweden before.

--

Hooja-time

All six competitors of the night have performed and we're closing in on the interval act. The expectations on Hooja and Käärijä are high - now we'll see if they can meet them. And how. [Bees note: I think they're referencing a Hooja song called "Levererar" here. It's about delivering a great performance on the dance floor while drunk. So lit. trans. of the wording is "we'll see if they deliver. And what." But it sounds weird to me to put it like that in English without an explanation. ]

--

Synths, inaudible lyrics and DANCE This is the first time we're seeing something this choreographed from Hooja and Mårdis.

Hooja's interval gets the loudest cheers from the audience of the night. Before the song San Francisco Boy there is a clip that shows Hooja walking across the border to Finland.

Then the treadmills start running and the trio works up a sweat (I'm assuming) as they walk briskly for the entire song. Tonight's winners.

[mittland]

i 🖤 girls

[personinthepalace]

I’m back on my legally blonde videoessay bullshit and my current obsession that’s probably not making it into the video I’d the progression from

this

To this

To the final broadway version. Like isn’t it insane how it had nothing to do with love originally. Like, in biased and like when it’s “how about love?“ but this is so precious and works so amazing for door-less productions I can’t!!! The instrumentation picking up!!! The profound sadness and Emmet not knowing!!!! (The way they deal with that is Definitely worse tho, I’m not shilling for Vivian telling him, not me)

But still it’s so!!!!!

hi! hope you are well :) and this is perfect timing bc I am also back on my legally blonde obsession haha

but yeah the San Francisco run doesn't have Elle tell Emmett what happened so he instead finds out through Vivienne which is quite strange especially since Elle does tell Emmett what Callahan did to her in the movie. So at the end of the ballad, Emmett is confused about why Elle wants to leave, finds out about the assault off-stage, and through a second party instead of through Elle herself which not only makes things feel less impactful but is also offensive (I am not sure if I am using the right term) to Elle - she is the victim in this situation and thus this is her story to tell not Vivienne's

but what I really love about the San Francisco version of the ballad is how the music swells after Elle shuts the door. And you see Emmett rushing to the door and calling out to her multiple times - ahhh it is so heartbreaking!! I do sometimes wish they kept that in somehow though of course I love the final Broadway version with all of my heart - "what about love?" "some girls were just meant to smile" 😭

here is a clip of an early san francisco version of the ballad scene for anyone who wishes to watch it:

also does anybody know what emmett is holding here?? I can't figure it out???

anyway wishing you the best of luck with your video essay!! so excited to watch it :)

[octuscle]

Exchange Student: Brooklyn (NY)

Chuck was a simple country boy. He had graduated top of his class in agricultural mechanics—of course, he had. Giving your best was just the way things were. That’s what his parents had expected of him. And now, that’s what he expected of himself. He was giving his best. And now he had to give his best at the New York City College of Technology. Because he had a scholarship there.

His hometown had 684 people. More people lived on the block where his dorm was. Shit. He wasn’t built for the big city. Not at all.

His dorm room looked like the room of a guy who had never had to clean up after himself. Back home, his mom did the laundry. His mom cleaned. His mom picked up after him. And when she didn’t, his sister did. It wasn’t about patriarchy or anything (not that Chuck even knew that word)—that’s just how things were. Men didn’t clean, just like men took cold showers without body wash.

Chuck picked up a tank top from the floor and sniffed it. He’d worn it to the gym yesterday. Probably not for the first time. Good enough for today’s lectures.

By Friday, even his gym buddies had started complaining about how bad his clothes smelled. That meant there was no way around it—he had to do laundry. Somewhere between his dorm and Washington Hall Park, where he sometimes played ball with some guys, there was a laundromat on Myrtle Avenue that looked decent enough. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.

So, he threw on the least smelly basketball jersey he could find, grabbed his gym bag stuffed with dirty laundry, and headed out. He stopped in front of the laundromat, took a deep breath. He was nervous. Rightfully so. The place was packed. Dozens of washers and dryers spinning. He had no idea what to do. And apparently, it showed.

“First time?” A guy asked him. Slim, buzz cut, tattoos, colorful outfit. Chuck knew guys like him. Art school types from across the street. Normally, Chuck would at best spit at their feet. But now? He needed help. And this guy seemed willing to give it.

“Dude, you’re a lifesaver, bro!” Chuck said, giving the guy a fist bump. The guy returned it, amused, and told him his machine would be done soon—Chuck could take it after.

Martin, as he introduced himself, walked Chuck through everything—how to separate his mess of gray-beige towels, bedsheets, socks, jockstraps, tank tops, tees, shorts, and jeans, where to get detergent, how to use the dryer afterward, and so on. Chuck’s head was spinning.

“Relax, big guy, it’s all on the wall,” Martin said, pointing to a board covered in instructions.

Damn. Maybe it would’ve been easier to just drive home and have his mom do it.

Once his machine was running, he thanked Martin, who was neatly folding his own laundry fresh from the dryer. Chuck had to get out of here. He needed to sweat, to prove he was a bro—not some laundry-doing wimp. According to Martin, he had 90 minutes.

When he got back, sweaty from shooting hoops, his washer was already beeping like crazy. He stuffed everything into a big dryer and let out a sigh of relief when the drum started spinning. Drying only took 25 minutes—just enough time to grab something quick to eat at the Chinese spot next door.

Back in his dorm, Chuck realized laundry wasn’t over yet. He had to make his bed, shove his clothes into his locker… Damn, getting the duvet cover on was torture. Definitely women’s work. Even the pillowcase was fighting back. Maybe because Martin’s tie-dye shirt was stuck inside. Not that Chuck noticed.

He didn’t care how the bed looked. He was wiped. He crashed onto the fresh sheets and was out almost instantly. And Martin’s shirt did its thing.

That night, Chuck dreamed in wild colors. If you could paint his dreams, they’d look like some psychedelic trip. He saw places he’d never been—Paris, Berlin, San Francisco—everything spinning in a massive vortex.

He woke up drenched in sweat. Half-asleep, he reached for his sketchbook. He had to capture this. He had to paint it tomorrow—big, bold, powerful. He stumbled into the bathroom, chugged a glass of water, and caught his reflection in the mirror.

Shit. He looked awful. He needed more sleep.

If you wanted to piss him off, you called him “Chuck.” There was nothing Charles hated more than hillbillies butchering the beautiful name Charles. He was Charles—pronounced the French way, please. Yeah, maybe that was a bit ridiculous for a guy born and raised in Chicago, but ever since his semester abroad in Paris, he stuck with it.

According to his professors, Charles was an insanely talented young man. He had proved his artistic skill on his own body—most of his tattoos were his own work. A bunch of his classmates were walking around with his ink, too. That alone had made him a bit of a legend at Pratt Institute. But what really stirred things up was his latest series of large-scale, vibrant paintings—whirlpools of color with subtle critiques of toxic masculinity, as he put it.

Not that Charles had much of that in him. Unless you saw him playing basketball in the little park around the corner. There, he took no prisoners.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home: Silver and Gold Edits

It's actually a Wednesday and I've finally been getting somewhere with the Silver and Gold edits! Can't believe I got stuck for so long.

So, here's a little teaser for anyone who is still following me.

I've revamped the radio interview Young Justice has in Amity to try and improve Phantom's reputation. So I'm going to share that.

Word count: 3k (They definitely went over time)

Summary: Young Justice (Tim, Kon, Cassie, and Bart) get stranded in Amity just before Walker's invasion. They stick around to help out and in the process decide to try and help Danny improve his reputation in the town. One of the ways they do that is by going on for a radio interview.

-----

The room fell into silence for a few long moments until the “on air” light lit up. Steve started speaking immediately.

“Good morning, Amity Park! This is Steve Boyce here to help you bring in the day. How are you early birds doing? Have I got a treat for you today! I’m here with the largest cup of coffee I could find because I got absolutely no sleep last night. And you’ll all understand why when I tell you who our guests today are!

“Yesterday afternoon, the studio got a very surprising email. We honestly thought it was a prank. But this morning, our guests actually turned up! Everyone, give a warm Amity welcome to the Teen Titans. We’re honored you would want to come on my little show, especially after the service you did for our town just the other night. Why don’t you introduce yourselves for our listeners?”

Each of them did as asked. Then Tim added, “We were just glad we happened to be in the right place at the right time, Steve.”

Cassie met his eyes and Tim nodded. “Robin’s right. Though I have one small correction to make. The former Teen Titans have kept the name Titans, even if they are no longer teens. So we’ve decided to re-brand and establish ourselves as our own team.”

Bart nodded. “Yep! We go by Young Justice now.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I’ve already put my foot in it. Let me correct myself: Amity, let’s give the Young Justice a warm welcome!”

Tim put on the happy gala voice his parents had drilled into him. “Not at all! It’s a new change and we’ve never really operated out here before. Even back home in San Francisco we get called the Teen Titans more often than not. Hell, half our mentors still call us that. We’re just on a crusade to get the name change to stick.”

“Well I’m sure all of my listeners will be sure to get it right going forward. Now, let’s get down to business. We’re all thrilled that you were around to help us out the other night, but what brought you to Amity to begin with? Mayor Montez has publicly stated he never even had a chance to reach out for help before you were on the scene.”

“Pure luck, I’m afraid,” said Tim.

Kon took over the story, “We were on our way home from a mission when our transport crashed and stranded us here.”

Bart made a noise of agreement. “Luckily my old friend Phantom was here to help us out!”

“That’s right. You were telling me before the broadcast started that you’ve had some dealings with Phantom before. Impulse is a speedster like the Flash. And apparently that means he’s used to interdimensional beings like the ghosts that have been plaguing our town.”

“Yep! And Phantom and I in particular go way back. So when I realized he was here, I insisted we stick around for an extra day to hang out.”

“And imagine our surprise,” said Tim, “when our very first night here, we experienced a ghost invasion!”

Cassie laughed. “Oh, come on, Robin. With our lives, it really wasn’t that surprising.”

“Yeah,” said Kon. “We’ve totally had weirder things happen to us.”

Steve pitched his town lower as if conspiring with them. “Well, I’ll definitely be asking for some of the details on what those might’ve been later.” Then, in his normal broadcast voice, said, “But first, I have to ask. Impulse, how did you meet Phantom? He’s that ghost in the black-and-white jumpsuit sometimes called Inviso-Bill, right? As far as I know, he’s only ever been seen in Amity. And you’ve certainly never been here before.”

Bart met Tim’s eyes and Tim nodded, letting him know to go ahead with the story. With Tim’s story, to be exact. “Yep, that’s him,” said Bart. “And, well, it may be strange, but I knew him before he was Phantom.”

“Before he was Phantom? Do you mean…” Steve let his voice trail off.

Bart nodded and Tim took over. “Yeah, Steve. He knew Phantom before he died. They were close friends and when Phantom died, it hit him hard. We’re so glad they managed to find each other again.”

When Bart spoke, it really did sound like he was upset. “Yeah. I didn’t expect it, you know? He wasn’t in the hero business before he died. And regular kids don’t just come back.”

Cassie sighed and clasped his shoulder. “Oh, Impulse.”

Steve made a sound of sympathy. “I’m sure I speak for everyone in Amity when I express my sympathies on your loss and how happy I am that the two of you found each other again. Will you tell us what that reunion was like?”

Tim was impressed. If Bart had been a grieving teenager, Steve successfully pivoted the topic to a more happy discussion. One that would keep his audience engaged without dragging the mood down.

He and Bart exchanged a look. They’d practiced this one, too. “As you mentioned, Speedsters tend to get involved in interdimensional situations. It has to do with how the speedforce—the thing we get our powers from—works.”

“Mind telling us about that?”

“It’s too complicated, I’m afraid,” said Bart.

“And he’s not lying, either,” added Tim. “He’s tried to explain it to me, and I’m no slouch when it comes to complicated science, but it’s just one of those things that I think is impossible to explain if you haven’t experienced it.”

“Fair enough,” laughed Steve. “Can’t blame me for being curious! But continue, please, Impulse.”

“So I was running one day, when suddenly I was somewhere else. Somewhere with a swirling green sky and no solid ground. Around me were all the islands and doors just floating in nothing. Well, it wasn’t the first time I’d ended up in an alternate dimension, so I went looking for a local to see if they’d know how to help me get back.”

“And you found Phantom?” guessed Steve.

Bart laughed. “Not first! Went to the nearest island I could see. It was this rocky canyon type place. All steep cliffs and narrow ledges. Well, the ghost who owned the island didn’t like me trespassing and we got in a bit of a fight that attracted some attention. Didn’t stop until Phantom physically separated us. Well, we recognized each other instantly. He asked if I’d died and I told him I didn’t think so.

“Took us the better part of a week for me to find my way back to Earth, but that was fine because we had a lot to catch up on. And I was lucky! Only a few hours had passed on Earth by the time I’d returned. We’ve been able to keep much better contact now that he’s in Amity. At least we experience the passage of time the same!”

“And the rest of you, this is your first time meeting Phantom?”

“Yep,” Tim said. “But we’re all getting along really well.”

Steve glanced to the sound set up. “Ope, looks like I’m being told it’s time for our commercial break. Well, I for one am certainly looking forward to continuing this show after. We’ll be back very soon.”

The “on air” light turned off as soon as Steve stopped speaking. “You’re all doing very well!” he told them as soon as it did. “I have a feeling this will be my most popular show.”

“Sorry if we ran a little long,” said Tim with a disarming smile.

Steve waved him off. “Oh trust me, the studio does not care. Will you lot be okay if we’re here a few minutes late?”

“Sure,” said Kon. “We’re not on a strict schedule now. For once.” He gave Tim a pointed look.

Tim laughed. “Oh, shut up. My schedules are important.”

“Excessive is what they are,” retorted Cassie.

Steve laughed at them. “Well, it’s great to see you acting casual. Thanks again for stopping by. Breaks almost over. I’ll reintroduce you for any latecomers.”

They all sat in silence watching the “on air” light.

The moment it turned on, Steve was going again. “For those who joined us late, let me reintroduce today’s surprise guests! We have the Young Justice team on here today! Consisting of Robin, Impulse, Wonder Girl, and Super Boy. Welcome back to the air. Before the break, Impulse, you were telling us about how you were friends with Phantom and reconnected in the Ghost Zone. Well, now I’d like to jump a bit ahead to the present.”

“Of course, Steve,” said Tim.

“Well. You all affirmed that you like Phantom, right?” Steve waited a moment for them all to voice their agreement. “Well, whenever he shows up, things get broken and we have to spend days or weeks and tens of thousands on repairs. People have been hurt. What are we missing?”

Tim spoke again, “You see, Steve, the thing that allowed Phantom to come back to Earth also allows other ghosts. And Phantom isn’t in control of it.”

Kon took over for him. “Phantom came through to reconnect with his living family and friends. But some of the other ghosts coming through don’t care about the living and just want to do what they want. Or actively want to hurt people.”

“And Phantom does his best to stop them,” finished Cassie. “The other ghosts are the aggressors causing the problems.”

“Actually,” added Bart. “You should keep an eye on the Amity Times! Phantom has written a series of Op-Eds explaining his side of some of the incidents that have affected the broader public. They’ll be published over the next few days.”

“Oh, well now you’ve definitely got me intrigued!” exclaimed Steve. “I will absolutely be looking out for those. But tell me, there’s got to be something you can share now? Give our listeners a teaser of what they can expect?”

“Do you remember how a month or two ago, a giant robot was seen in Amity?” asked Tim.

“Not something I’m likely to forget!”

Tim laughed. “I’m sure! Well, what you don’t know is that he crossed over to Earth from the Ghost Zone about three or four days before you ever saw him. Phantom kept him from gaining a physical body for days before Technus was able to get past him.”

“Really? So you’re saying that without Phantom, we would’ve been dealing with that robot for a lot longer?”

“Yep.”

Steve let out a low whistle. “Well, that will certainly give me something to think on.”

“We’re also working with Phantom to come up with techniques that’ll decrease the amount of property damage with each attack,” said Tim. “He’s new to this, though, and learning on the fly. And sometimes there really isn’t much you can do. Even our mentors don’t get out of fights without something getting damaged in most cases.”

“Food for thought for sure. Now, I also have to ask. The Fentons are the world leading scientists on ghosts. And according to their research, ghosts are all malevolent spirits hell bent on wrecking destruction on Earth. You’re claiming something different. Why should we believe you over them?”

“Well, Steve, I want to start by saying I respect the Fentons as inventors.” Tim ignored the way his teammates’ eyes bored into him. “Their weapons and inventions are nothing short of marvelous which is why we used their products the other night during the invasion.”

“We did notice! So the Fentons gave you those weapons?”

“By the time we got to their place, they’d already left. But their children were able to help us.” Tim saw Kon open his mouth and he glared and gave him a hand signal to shut up. Kon glared right back so before he could say anything, Tim kept going. “Despite their quite astounding inventions, however, the rest of their science and research is…rather lacking I’m afraid.”

“In what way?”

“So. Did you know the Fentons have never actually talked to a ghost?”

“They haven’t?”

“Nope.” Tim popped the P. “The majority of their research was published before the portal between Earth and the Ghost Zone was established so it was based on whatever happened to get trapped Earth-side. Which seem to mostly be shades and animal ghosts. Non-sapient ghosts. Sapient ghosts are quite common, however. It’d be like if someone made judgments about all Earth lifeforms after seeing bacteria, insects, and bugs. There’s so much more out there.”

“Have they published anything since the portal was made?”

“Only papers on how effective their weapons are against actual ghosts. Nothing about ghost behaviors, sapience, or biology.”

“In other words, they’re bigots,” said Kon, no longer able to hold back. Tim glared at him, but Kon just stared back, undeterred.

“Well, it does certainly seem like there might be some gaps in their research!” agreed Steve without agreeing. “We might look into that claim and report on tomorrow’s broadcast.” The technician made another gesture through the window. “How fast the time goes! Time for our second commercial break, listeners! Stay tuned, though. Because we’ve got our guest for just a little bit longer.”

The “on air” sign flashed off and Kon couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“How could you say anything good about those psychopaths?”

Tim sighed. “You forget. I’m from Gotham. I deal with Mad Scientists all the time. Right now, they’re cautiously allies. By talking up the stuff they do well, I’m trying to not alienate them so we can continue to use their inventions. If we come across too strong, they’ll bar us from using their stuff and we won’t be able to help if more ghosts invade.”

“But they talk about tearing Phantom apart molecule-by-molecule!”

“And that’s why we’re trying to keep Phantom and the Fentons away from each other.”

“Unsuccessfully,” muttered Cassie.

Tim met each of his teammate’s eyes. “Yes, well. We can’t force him to do anything.”

Kon grit his teeth but looked away. Bart crossed his arms and stared unhappily at the table. Cassie ran a hand through her hair.

Steve just watched them all. After a moment of silence, he said, “The broadcast will be resuming. I’ll try and keep this one more light hearted.”

“Ask if he’s a dog person,” suggested Tim.

Steve grinned at him and the “on air” light came back on. Steve did another brief reintroduction, then said, “Now, I’ve been told to ask if Phantom is a dog person which makes me think there’s a story there.”

Tim gestured to Bart. Sam and Tucker had gleefully told the story last night leaving them all in stitches. “A few weeks ago, you remember how Axiom labs was having those issues?”

“I think all of us here in Amity remember that.”

“Well, it’s because this ghost puppy was acting like a puppy. Have you ever had a puppy before?”

“When I was a kid we had one. My wife now is allergic, though.”

“Remember how hard it was to train them when they were still really young?”

Steve winced. “My dad was near about ready to drive him back to the pound. Took my brother and I crying to change his mind.”

Bart laughed. “Well, imagine that but with ghost powers and super strength. That’s what this puppy was like. And Phantom never had a dog. It took him a while to figure out how to train him. But once he did, the dog stopped causing problems.”

“And really,” said Cassie, “It was only a few days by his account. So I don’t even know if ‘a while’ is the right phrase there.”

Tim made a noise of agreement. “But with the property damage, we can admit the situation was a little more urgent than normal puppy training.”

“But now Phantom has a dog and he’s thrilled,” finished Bart.

“Well that is a story! Will there be more details in one of those Op-Eds you hinted will be published in the Amity Times?”

“Sure is,” said Cassie. “And Phantom tells the story so much better than we do.”

“Well, we’ve talked a lot about Phantom this interview. But what about you four? What does Young Justice hope for their future?”

“It’s in the name, isn’t it?” said Cassie. “We want Justice. For everyone, not just the powerful.”

“A lofty goal, and one I think we can all get behind. Well, I’ve had the chance to spend a little bit of time with you four now and you’re clearly very good friends. Has it always been that way?”

Tim couldn’t help but crack up, followed by the others. “Not at all,” he said through his laughter. “Super Boy and I hated each other at first.”

“Yeah, Robin can be a real stick in the mud.”

“And Super Boy pretends he doesn’t take anything seriously.”

Bart sighed loudly. “And they’re so slow. My normal is speedster fast, so I hated having to slow everything for them.”

“And we hated how he always rushed ahead,” said Cassie.

Tim grinned at his teammates. “But we figured it out. And now we’re stuck with each other for life.”

“Damn right,” said Cassie.

“They’re crash,” added Bart.

“We’ve got each other’s backs,” finished Kon.

“It’s obvious just talking to you. How long did it take to build up your rapport?”

Tim exchanged a glance with his friends and hummed. “I think three life-threatening events.”

Steve burst out in surprised laughter. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, but clearly I should have been. Of course superheroes would measure time in life-threatening events.” He glanced at the window where the sound technician was making another gesture. “But the rest of us mere mortals have to use clocks. And my managers are telling me we’ve already gone over time. So I guess we’ll have to wrap this up here.”

“Thanks for having us on,” said Tim.

“I should honestly be thanking you four. I’ve had a great time. And to our listeners, we’ll be preparing a recording of this interview and posting it on our website at some point today. So if you only caught part of it, don’t worry. You’ll be able to go back and listen to the whole thing shortly. Be sure and share it with your friends who aren’t morning people. This is Steve and the Young Justice wishing you a very pleasant Amity day.”

-----

I'm sure you can see how much this has changed from the original (if anyone even remembers the original. It's been how long?)

Hope you enjoy!

My rewrites are progressing quite nicely for now so I hope to get back to updating soon. I won't start updating until it's fully finished, though. Don't want to leave something half finished for almost a year again.

[peaterookie]

I'm making this to have it off my chest. I don't want this to turn into a drama or whatever, but kind of like a PSA to maybe avoid this person and not support him

Oranges, the translator who's known in the manga community as the one who does most of the translation work for MP's manga is a bit of a dubious guy, let me explain

It starts with Me, Idien, and Aisterion who are planning to translate the San Francisco Arc around August 2023, we paid Ai to translate it and we're gonna be responsible for the scans.

Flash a couple months later, we decided to alert Oranges about our project on his server, because we worried if he didn't know then it would appear that we wanted to compete and we didn't want to flood mangadex with two groups doing the same chapters. Keep in mind this was around the time where he didn't release any chapters in a while so we thought it was fine to do our own.

The dryness of the response sorta irked me but we decided to continue our work since we've paid Ai already

Days after, I found out Oranges then uploaded his own translation of San Fran, and I was banned from his server.

He then went on a frenzy, uploading San Fran chapters at insane speed. In addition, he also skipped about 20 chapters just to upload San Fran, which goes to show he is doing this in response to my project.

I was very bothered with this since this is a clear act of pettiness and trying to one-up our well meaning efforts. I really didn't understand why he was doing this, I think he wanted to maintain this monopoly he has over Shin Lupin and anyone that tries to do their own translation will be his enemy of some sort.

Interestingly, when we finished our translation and are currently posting them on Mangadex, he then- again- uploaded more chapters in a frenzy, which is why you now have those Yapland chapters.

And just now, as I was planning to translate Welcome to Adultland with Ai yesterday, Oranges then proceeded to upload HIS translation of Adultland TODAY.

Interesting pattern of event don't you think...?

To me, Oranges is trying to stamp out whatever effort from others to translate anything Shin Lupin related. It really upsets me because I am completely doing this out of good intentions for the fandom, but it seems to me that he wants to only do this to have all the credit of translating a series all to himself. What kind of person takes a 2 year hiatus, only to come back from the dead when he's heard that there's someone else trying to do his work?

It's been extremely frustrating seeing this, so yeah, that's it. Take these stories however way you want.

[callisto-the-silly]

I had to make an actual post about this:

Yesterday evening, i saw a clip from the IOF that showed a soldier in an inflatable dinosaur costume refilling the ammunition of an M109 howitzer. Later in the same clip, the howitzer fires into Gaza, causing (presumably) unspeakable damage.

Absolutely appalling. These are people so void of emotion and empathy that they turn the ruthless murder of thousands of innocent civilians into sport. How can a human being voluntarily do such a horrible thing? It boils down to psychology. People are more likely to inflict suffering when being ordered or threatened to do so. That may be true for some, but not for the Zionists. They truly, deep down, in every soldier, ingrain a sense of what can only be described as Nazism. The State of Israel truly has become what tried to kill them. They have technology that detects trucks with aid, or innocent people trying to escape, and annihilates whatever it detects as "other" with an automatic cannon. The Zionists have turned the Gaza strip into the largest death camp ever seen in all of human history. 2 million people, all with stories, lives, and hardships. people who lived, loved, laughed, learned and lost. They are systematically eliminating the Gaza Strip and attacking and erasing it's history and culture.

The worst part: Nobody cares. Israel can just slip by international law like sand through your fingers. The ICJ has tried and failed on numerous occasions to stop Israel, but to no avail. So if the government won't do it, we will. Regular, average people with a sense of decency should rise up and protest for Gaza. And not just at universities and at major events.

Everyone, everywhere, should protest. New York, Boston, LA, Vegas, San Francisco, San Diego, Sacramento, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, Nashville, Orlando, Jacksonville, Miami, Houston, Dallas, Austin, and countless others. Boycott. Be loud, be memorable.

But don't get violent. Fighting violence with violence is not the right thing. Think about something similar to the March on Washington in 1963. We must send a clear message to America and its European vassals that we do not stand firm this. The Nakba did not end in 1948. It is a 76 year long catastrophe for millions.

From The River to the Sea, Palestine WILL BE FREE

this post kinda deviated a lil bit but i got the point across so its fine

[cottagecoreloreee]

Chapter 3 will be up later this week! Catch up on the first two chapters in the meantime. ❤️

-Snippet-

Lestat could not be dissuaded. The next day he called again, and telling myself that he would continue to call if I did not answer, I picked up my phone. Modern technology had provided Lestat with a partial bridge to the sacrifice he took as my maker. While he could not read my thoughts, we could communicate across large distances and I believe this comforted and flustered him in equal measure. I was accessible at the push of a button, but then I would not answer, further proving my detachment. Though if I answered, it signaled my care for him. 

I was the cold-hearted Louis; I was the adoring Louis. I was demon and angel, tormentor and savior–the dichotomy he claimed to love even in his most crazed states. As soon as I answered, I knew I shouldn’t have. I thought to hang up, but my breath betrayed me. 

“Mon cher, how are you?”

I swallowed. “We talked yesterday.”

“I am, how did you say it, Daniel? Oh yes, clingy.”

“You sound like an old man if you phrase it like that.” I laughed and so did he, and the question he asked on our last call weighed on me–his charms hadn’t been lost on me.  “And yes, you are.” 

“I was a recluse for seventy years, Louis. I am still adjusting to the times.”

“That would explain the rockstar stint in those ridiculous outfits. Who’s dressing you?”

“So you’ve watched my shows?” And Lestat made an ungodly sound, a single-syllable laugh that inflamed me. “I could send you a ticket to see me live. VIP, if you like, so I’d see you backstage.” 

We spoke for an hour–our longest conversation since New Orleans. He detailed life on the road, observing how humanity had changed. Gone were most superstitions that forced him into the shadows–the fear of vampires had faded. In the media, we are brooding, fraught creatures, embroiled in romance. Lestat was both awed and disappointed by the development, and I could not point out the irony. 

And time lent fondness to the past. We reminisced over the old traditions, and how laughable they were to us, even then. He mentioned her once–and only once–the name Claudia slipped from his mouth like the first leaf that falls from a tree in autumn, by surprise and almost unheard.

“Claudia kept the dolls,” he sighed, the strain of pride in his voice.“But she gave one to a baby just to watch the mother scream in horror.” A moment passed where neither of us could speak. It was something of her that didn’t reside in my memory. But he remembered. Lestat: her maker, her uncle, her brother, her keeper, her torturer. Lestat, the actor, filled every role. And he was her father, despite his limitations. 

“We should stop here,” I said. 

There was a pause. The world around me shrank, and the distance between Dubai and San Francisco became a stone’s throw. I felt the ghost of his hand on the back of my neck, his breath summoning goosebumps on my flesh. “My Louis,” Lestat’s voice broke, and how it unwound me–I wished to drag my fingers along his cheek, and promise him a day in the future I couldn’t guarantee. “Always short on time.” 

“I’ll call soon,” I found myself saying. 

“You will?” Lestat cleared his throat. “I’ll be patiently waiting for your call.” 

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Women's march

* * * *

Harris and Walz shift the vibe!

August 19, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

As we look ahead with hope and anticipation to the Democratic National Convention, the Harris-Walz campaign continues to surprise everyone with its effectiveness and nimbleness. On Sunday, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz took a bus tour through Pennsylvania—a complete “vibe-shift” from the enthusiastic crowds at packed stadiums that fueled the campaign over the last four weeks.

The bus tour was terrific! It highlighted Kamala and Tim in “normal” situations that voters can relate to—buying chips (Doritos) in a convenience store, talking to a high school football team, and chatting up the employees at a restaurant. Both joined a local field office’s phone-banking efforts! Kamala Harris even petted a firehouse dog after delivering pastries to the firefighters! (Can you imagine Trump petting a dog?)

There is no way in the world that Trump or JD Vance could have negotiated those situations with anything other than awkward stiffness as they pretended to know how to talk to everyday Americans in normal situations. Both Trump and JD Vance are stuck behind podiums with dwindling or non-existent crowds, while Kamala and Tim turned the “small group” interaction into a show of strength and normalcy.

That is a feat that Trump and Vance cannot replicate. The GOP nominees are comfortable among billionaires and sycophants but not among people who are feeling the pain of Trump’s tax cuts for billionaires, assault on personal liberties, and culture wars.

Harris also asked reporters questions at various stops on the tour. Those reporters—perhaps local reporters(?)—asked the Vice President substantive questions about her economic proposals released last week. No notes, no teleprompters, no “hand-picked” reporters who are afraid of Kamala Harris. Her answers were “okay” to “good”, but they were orders of magnitude better than Trump's meandering words-salads. She answered the questions head-on; not everyone accepted her responses, but that’s politics! Kamala Harris is speaking to voters, not to pundits.

While dwelling on Trump is becoming tedious, he made things worse for himself and JD Vance on Saturday with another unhinged speech that focused on pettiness, grievance, and hate. In the speech, he criticized Kamala Harris for her laugh, dating history, and “looks” before stooping to call her a “communist.” See Trump zigzags between economic remarks and personal insults at rally in critical Pennsylvania. In a sign of supreme insecurity, Trump repeatedly said that he was “better looking than Kamala.” Geez! What kind of person does that?

And then Trump proceeded to have an epic meltdown on social media on Sunday, posting at least fifty-two (52) times, with each post worse, more offensive, and delusional than the last. Trump posted fake “photos” of “Swifties for Trump”, and posted doctored photos of Kamala Harris holding a sign that said, “I am a moron.”

Below is one of Trump's most unhinged posts

Again, apologies for repeating Trump's post, but it is important to understand what the media is not reporting about Trump's descent into madness. At the very least, let your eyes graze over the Unabomber-esque quality of the prose:

We had to turn away lots of people yesterday in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, but Comrade Kamala Harris’ Social Media Operation showed empty seats, long before the Rally started, early in the afternoon when, in actuality, we had to turn away 11,500 people! She’s a Crooked Radical Left Politician, and always will be! Everything she touches turns bad, just like California, and San Francisco before it - as is the case with all Marxists. She should have never been Vice President, and had to stage a COUP of Joe Biden, with her America-hating friends, Barrack Hussein Obama, Crazy Nancy Pelosi, Cryin’ Chuck Schumer, and the rest. Comrade Kamala is a STONE COLD LOSER, she will FAIL and, if she doesn’t, our Country will cease to exist as we know it, turning into a Communist, Crime Ridden Garbage Dump.

As Trump is off message in the worst possible way, Democrats are heading into their convention more united than ever. Are there potential problems? Of course! Protests over Gaza will give the media a counter-narrative to dampen the enthusiasm that will greet President Joe Biden, First Lady Jill Biden, former presidents Obama and Clinton, Secretary of State Clinton, and Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff. Then, the main event will be Tim Walz and Kamala Harris.

The convention will be historic. It will serve three purposes:

It will lift and inspire a formerly weary base who can finally celebrate with a sense of confidence and optimism.

It will help unify Democratic messaging—finally!

It will extend the period of enthusiasm that has propelled the campaign thus far.

If the unprecedented enthusiasm continues into September or October, it will solidify the momentum that Kamala Harris is building among the electorate.

Joe Biden’s speech alone is reason enough to hold a convention that has already elected Kamala Harris as the Democratic nominee. It should be Biden’s finest hour in his half-century of public service.

I resolve to not allow the media’s desire to deflate Democratic enthusiasm to interfere with my enjoyment and appreciation of a historic moment.

And a special note to readers who will be attending the convention: I would love to hear from you about what it is like to be “in the room where it happens.” With your permission (and not for attribution), I will share comments with other newsletter readers who are not at the convention. Feel free to post in the Comment section or email me at rbhubbell@gmail.com.

Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter

[captainsophiestark]

The Best-Laid Plans

Platonic!Annabeth Chase x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: Annabeth's best friend and older sibling figure since she ran away at seven helps her execute the perfect birthday surprise for Percy in their first year at college.

Word Count: 1,306

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: To those new to the fandom from the tv show, weclome! This fic has hella spoilers for future books, so be warned

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I just want to do something special for him. It's his first birthday away from home, and I can tell it's bothering him."

I hummed, twirling my dagger and staring at the ceiling while kicked back on my couch. Such was the life of a demigod, that we fiddled with weapons like fidget toys.

"And there's no way you guys can go back?" I finally asked. Annabeth, my little sister in every way but blood, shook her head.

"We've got orientation for the next week and a half, including his birthday. It's the only reason we're here so early in the first place. We can't miss it."

I frowned. Annabeth and her boyfriend, Percy Jackson, had just started college at New Rome University. They'd gotten to the Bay Area yesterday, which I'd been incredibly excited about. Annabeth and I had been attached at the hip since I was eleven and she was seven, when we'd met as runaway demigods. Out of our little group, Annabeth and I had stayed the closest. After the Titan War, I'd decided to go USF, the muggle university in San Francisco. Leaving her had been the hardest part.

Now, luckily for me, she and Percy had moved out here too. Annabeth had finished unpacking and setting up her dorm room within a few hours of arrival, and so had some free time this morning to spend hanging out with me. Percy had not, so he was otherwise occupied on their last day before school activities started.

"Well, I'm happy to help with whatever you want to do, Annabeth," I said. She sighed, chewing at her lip and staring out the window of my apartment as she thought. "Maybe you could show him around the Bay Area? He probably hasn't spent much time out here, has he?"

"I really haven't either," she said. "I've barely been back since I was a kid."

"True..."

"Maybe we could go on a tour of New Rome? Percy told me he wanted to show me around, but I don't want to make him be the tour guide for his birthday."

"Yeah."

The two of us fell silent for a moment, thinking things through. Then, like a blast of lightning from Thalia, an idea hit me.

"What if you baked him some cookies or something? He's probably already missing his mom's baking."

Annabeth shot up straight in her seat, staring at me with wide eyes.

"That is the perfect idea. Can I make them here?"

"Of course! I'm not going to make you use the shared freshman kitchens."

Annabeth grinned, then stood and headed to the kitchen table. I watched her go with interest as she pulled out a notebook and pen and started scribbling away.

"Uh... Annabeth?"

"Making a plan. Don't worry about it."

I grinned to myself. My little sister was nothing if not predictable.

A few days later, Annabeth managed to sneak away from Percy and orientation to come back to my place for a baking party. Percy's birthday was tomorrow, so we only had tonight to get everything ready.

"I came up with the perfect plan," she said in lieu of greeting as she pushed past me and into the apartment. I smiled after her, joining her in the kitchen as she plopped down a massive bag of baking supplies. "I got the recipe, I timed everything out, I got a ton of blue food coloring. By the end of the day, the perfect birthday surprise will be completed."

"I'd never doubt a plan from Athena," I said, giving her a smile. "Just tell me what to do, and I'm on it."

"Right. Well, first we need to preheat the oven."

That was about the only part of the plan that ended up going off without a hitch. Annabeth didn't bake often, and she'd happened to choose a pretty difficult cookie recipe. I did my best to help, but I didn't have a lot of experience in the area either, so things went quickly off the rails. Just under two hours later, the two of us stood in the kitchen covered in flower, eggs, and bits of way too watery dough, staring at the absolute disaster of a mess we'd created on the counter.

"This was not part of the plan," she said. I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing.

"I don't know, I think sugar cookies are supposed to be so wet we can't pick them up," I joked. I turned to see Annabeth with a very serious frown on her face.

"I haven't had a plan fail this miserably in... a long time."

"Well, I think it's probably time for plan B. That can be your redemption."

Annabeth's frown just deepened, so I did what any good sibling would do and took it upon myself to cheer her up. By throwing a wad of dough in her face, of course.

Her mouth dropped open in shock as sugary, goopy dough dripped off her chin. Then she whirled on me with a fierce look and fire in her eyes that I recognized from the few times she'd really been on the warpath for capture the flag.

"That was a mistake."

She picked up the nearest glob of dough and chucked it at me as I tried to dodge. It hit me in the back with a thunk, and I cackled before turning around to reengage with a clump of flour.

The baking battle raged for a few fierce minutes, before Annabeth and I slipped in some dough on the floor while wrestling to smear more of the stuff on each others' heads. We collapsed in a heap, both of us laughing like crazy people.

"That was so worth everything that came before it," I declared, slumping against the nearest kitchen cabinet. Annabeth immediately followed suit, leaving us shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the mess.

"What about the cleanup that comes after?"

"Also worth it, especially since I have you here to help me."

Annabeth snorted, but didn't say anything. After a minute of comfortable silence, she sighed.

"What am I gonna do for Percy's birthday tomorrow?"

"Well, were the cookies the only plan?"

"No... He took me to one of his favorite spots in the city a few days ago, so I planned a picnic for the two of us there. The cookies were going to be the final surprise."

"Well, there you go then. The rest of the plan remains intact. If you wanted to, you could even make him a little coupon or something that promises 'one day of baking cookies' or something like that, and the two of you can pick an easier but still delicious recipe to try."

Annabeth looked at me with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

"Would you let us use your kitchen again?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Maybe Percy's better at baking than us. And even if he's not, having someone who can control water to help us with cleanup will at least make a round two of this easier."

Annabeth smiled and huffed a laugh, leaning against me.

"Thanks. For this, and for everything. I'm really glad you're here in San Francisco with us."

I smiled too, reaching out to put one arm around Annabeth. We'd known each other more than a decade, and we'd both changed so much. But our relationship had stayed the same.

"Any time, Annabeth. You know I'm always here for you." The two of us sat there for a minute, taking a breather and appreciating each other's company, and then I sighed. "Alright, time to get the cleaning stuff out. This is going to take hours."

"You know, I actually have a lot of coursework I need to get started on-"

"Nice try, but it's orientation. And even if you were in the middle of finals, you wouldn't be getting out of this."

"Fine. But next time, let's plan to avoid the massive kitchen food fight."

I grinned. "Sure. We can plan on that."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Riordanverse: @valkyriepirate

[nalyra-dreaming]

I hope you don't mind me sending you this and that you don't think I'm deranged (I am deranged about these characters) but yesterday I wrote this https://www.tumblr.com/chicalepidopterareblogs/746157267839270912/what-if-jkirks-scene-in-the-trailer-is-part-of?source=share

about the scene with JK in the trailer being actually one of Daniel's grandpa nap dreams. To summarize I'm not particulary fond of the idea of doing the same Armand reveal but with Marius. I don't think you can pull off that very same trick twice. But what if the first time we see Marius it is in one of Daniels dreams and he gets his name and everything cause they've already met but he doesn't remember. And when Daniel wakes up he tries to rationalise it by telling himself that he must have gotten the name from the artist from the painting on the wall?

It would explain Marius not looking vampiric in this dream just as Daniel didn't remember Armand's vampire eyes in the other one. The dream would mirror the San Francisco First Meeting (sitting in a bar, talking to a stranger) but with an "old man twist". As much I've tried I can't imagine a good reason for Daniel to be allowed to leave the penthouse. But the Sushi Restaurant as a projection of his imagination still connencted to Dubai...I can see that happening!

No, of course not, thank you for linking me the post!!!

So, I get why you would prefer a setup like this^^, and it is a very interesting idea. As said in that ask it is a completely possible approach in the VC.

I'm just... my problem with this is less the idea itself, than the necessary lore explanations they'd have to do to link a memory with the current setting (so to include a certain... "tinkering"), and the danger Daniel is in (or not).

Like, we have the cloud gift, fire gift, and the more telekinetic powers of the mind gift in season 1. The "only" mental communication was between Louis and Claudia (and Antoinette). There were hints at more, but only hints.

The dream Daniel had in s1 was a memory. And it was a suppressed one. The scene we saw in the trailer could also be a suppressed memory, true. But I don't think it's a projected one, if that makes sense.

Lore-wise we will get the destructive powers of the fire gift next season, as well as a huge update on spell and mind gift (through Armand), at the very least. Theoretically that could include projecting dreams... but I just feel like that would be combined best with upcoming arcs, and then of course QotD.

And re the tinkering, or what Daniel's subconscious would then do with it all...

The thing is, Daniel is good.

IF Armand shows him posters with "Armand Marius" on them he will immediately know something is up. I would bet anything on it.^^ Remember that little file he has? What else is in there? He has clocked in on all the little things. The little discrepancies. Has called Louis out on it, too. Has challenged the narrative. Has slapped Louis. Has taunted both Louis and Armand. I don't think that's gonna stop :) If he remembers someone introducing themselves as Marius... the deal will be up. BUT I mean... maybe that will be the twist! Maybe he will remember and know. That I could easily see, indeed.

But I don't quite see him "not connecting the dots", if that makes sense :)

A Pulitzer price winning journalist, who has just started tearing it all apart? :) Naaaaaahhhh.

(Of course I'm very much looking forward to Daniel tearing them all a new one, so that is coming from a place of wishful thinking *laughs* :))

I hope I make sense^^

[mirkwoodshewolf]

No following; Planet of the apes fanfic Chap. 9

*Author's note*

Now here is where the story plot truly takes a shine as Lin and Caesar finally stand before each other and Lin tries to get the dam up and running along with Malcolm and his team, all the while trying to hide her past from the rest of the surviving people of San Francisco.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

___________________________________________________

I woke up like clockwork at the butt-crack of dawn.  Jesus even with these pills I still can’t escape military protocol.  For once I’d like to sleep eternally without waking up.  I stretched myself out like a cat before getting up and walked over to the kitchen to see Malcolm and his family eating breakfast.

“Morning Lin.” Malcolm greeted me.

“Morning everyone.”

“How did you sleep?” asked Ellie.

“As fine as anyone can these days.” I responded.  Malcolm stood up from the table and handed me a plate filled with food rations.  “No.”

“Come on, even someone as hardcore as you needs to eat.” He told me.

“I eat breakfast, I just eat my own. I’m not taking parts of your family’s rations.”

“Everyone in the colony looks after each other. It’s how we’ve managed to survive this long. And like it or not you are a part of the colony now. Please Lin.” I looked between Malcolm and his family before hesitantly reaching out for the plate.

When suddenly the alarms started blaring throughout the entire colony.  Already we could hear people from outside people starting to race down the stairs in a panic.

“Get dressed.” I ordered as I grabbed my rifle and was the first to leave their little home.

By the main gate, the crowd was in a panicked uproar as I tried to make my way up towards the catwalk where Dreyfus stood.  Once I got to the stairway, I ran over to him and was shocked at what I saw just over the wall.

Caesar stood there riding a black stallion wearing what appeared to be war paint covering his entire body, and behind him was a whole army of apes bearing the same style of war paint as he did.  Some riding on horses, but every single one of them held a spear in hand to let all of us know they meant business.

“That’s a hell of a lot more than 80!” Dreyfus said over the alarm.  I turned to see that Malcolm had now joined up with us.

“It’s a scare tactic!” I proclaimed over the sound of the alarm.

“A what?!”

“They’re trying to intimidate us! Show us their numbers and size! If they wanted us dead they wouldn’t just be standing there! But you idiots start firing your guns and there will be bloodshed!” I then went down just as the alarms were cut off and the doors began to open.

There I was the first to walk out and keep my focus solely on Caesar.  I still can’t believe that he’s really alive, I can’t believe I had given up on him surviving the forest fires, he is after all a very special chimp.

“Lin!” I heard Dreyfus call out to me.  But I ignored him as I slowly walked closer to Caesar before I briefly paused.  Caesar kept his eyes on me before urging his horse forward and I resumed my walking until finally the two of us stood before the other.  Time and the world almost seemed to fade away as it was just the two of us.

The brief softness in his eyes as he looked at me quickly hardened as he turned his attention towards the colony and he proclaimed.

“APES!” hearing him speak made chills go up my body but it filled everyone else (besides Malcolm and the others who heard him speak yesterday) with fear.  Caesar continued, “DO NOT…WANT. WAR! BUT WILL…FIGHT! IF. WE MUST!” he then turned to a younger male chimp and gave him a nod.

The younger male got off his horse and in his hand he held Alexander’s bag that he had left behind after we got startled by Caesar and the apes.  The young male chimp had the exact same war paint as Caesar did and he did resemble Caesar a bit from when he was that age, could this be his son?

He held out the bag but as I went to grab it, he dropped it at my feet before turning around and headed back to his horse.  I reached down and grabbed Alexander’s bag before turning back to Caesar.  His eyes glaring at the colony as he proclaimed while pointing behind him.

“APE HOME!” he then pointed at the colony’s building, “HUMAN. HOME!” His eyes then turned to me, his face still stern but his eyes glaring at me not as threatening but he still wanted me to know. “Do not come back.”

I gulped harshly as I tried to keep my emotions at bay as Caesar then urged his horse and his people away.  As all the apes soon left, there was one ape that lingered behind.  From his war paint I could see the scarred side of his face and his eyes were blazing with nothing but hatred.

He remained glaring down at me growling lowly as he stayed there until almost every single ape had left before he too finally left to join the others.  I let out an exhale but I knew that this was only the calm before the storm.

And boy was I right.  The second the apes had left the city, the colony was in a panicked uproar.  Everyone crowding each other as they clamored and try to outvoice the other’s panic.

I stuck to the far back as I could so that I wouldn’t be caught up in the panicked crowd.  Now this is exactly how I remembered this building to be.  Hundreds of thousands of people in a state of mindless panic, too afraid and too stupid to allow anyone to speak to them, and now I’m just waiting for the accusations to start happening.

“EVERYBODY! PLEASE! WE ARE ALL IMMUNE!” Dreyfus called out using a megaphone.  “WE ARE ALL IMMUNE OR WE STILL WOULDN’T BE HERE!”

“HOW DID THEY FIND US!?” proclaimed one man as the crowd then roared in agreement.

“WE FOUND THEM!” Dreyfus answered.

“YOU KNEW THEY WERE OUT THERE!” proclaimed another man.

“WHAT IF THEY COME BACK!?” screamed out a woman.  The crowd all cried out agreeing with the woman, to which Dreyfus told them.

“IF THEY COME BACK—IF THEY COME BACK, THEY’LL BE SORRY THEY EVER DID!” The crowd slowly began to die down but I could still feel the paranoia in the air.  “NOW, THIS CITY MAY NOT HAVE THE MANPOWER IT ONCE DID, BUT IT HAS THE FIREPOWER. THOSE STOCKPILES LEFT BEHIND BY FEMA, THE NATIONAL GUARD, WE HAVE IT ALL. LOOK…”

Dreyfus paused for a moment to compose himself as he spoke his next speech into the megaphone.

“I KNOW WHY YOU’RE SCARED. I’M SCARED TOO, BELIEVE ME. BUT I RECOGNIZE THE TRUST YOU’VE ALL PLACED IN ME. WE’VE BEEN THROUGH HELL TOGETHER!” Trust me Dreyfus, you don’t know the first thing about hell.

Yeah San Fransisco began ground zero from when the outbreak hit, then the riots and civil unrest but that’s only a taste of what I’ve seen in the rest of the world.  They’ve been through hell, but I have seen it with my own two eyes.

“BUT YOU ALL KNOW WHAT WE’RE UP AGAINST. WE’RE ALMOST OUT OF FUEL. WHICH MEANS NO MORE POWER, WHICH MEANS WE COULD SLIP BACK TO THE WAY THINGS WERE THAT DAM UP THERE WAS THE ANSWER. NOW WE JUST HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE UP THERE TOO.”

“SO WHAT DO WE DO NOW!?” exclaimed another woman as the crowd went into another uproar.

“WE FIND ANOTHER WAY…” the crowd slowly quietened down as Dreyfus continued, “BECAUSE THAT POWER….IS NOT JUST ABOUT KEEPING THE LIGHTS ON. IT’S ABOUT GIVING US THE TOOLS TO RECONNECT TO THE REST OF THE WORLD. TO FIND OUT WHO ELSE IS OUT THERE!” some people started nodding and doing hail Mary’s.  “SO THAT WE CAN START TO REBUILD…..AND RECLAIM….THE WORLD WE LOST.” With that being said, the crowd dispersed and everyone went on trying to get back to their normal routine.

Both Malcolm and I waited for Dreyfus in the hallway near his sleeping quarters.  As Dreyfus came up Malcolm said.

“That was a great speech.”

“Yeah, did you write it down first or did it just pop into your head?” I asked snidely.

“Lin not now.” Malcolm warned me.  He stood up and told Dreyfus, “There is no alternative power source. That dam is the only option.” Dreyfus slowly walked towards us before saying.

“Well, then we fight them.” I chuckled madly.  “What you think that’s funny Lin?” Dreyfus demanded.

“I think it’s hilarious. Cause this just proves why humanity lost more lives than the Simian Flu. Humans are always so quick to violence. Intelligent thinking, that’s just a bunch of egotistical bullshit. Just because someone has bigger balls than you, you think it’s alright to start a war.”

“They’re animals Lin. They may have the numbers but we have the fire power, just as I said.”

“Yeah but you underestimate your opponents and they’ll find your weakness. Apes were already smarter than humans before given the drug, now they’re beyond intelligent. If you want a war, you’ll fight without my help.”

“Then what else would you suggest? We’re two weeks from running out of fuel, maybe three tops. And once that happens, I won’t be able to go out there with a bullhorn and calm everybody down.” He said as he walked up to me, the two of us standing almost chest to chest with each other.  But I held my stance as I had my arms crossed. 

He then turned to Malcolm and walked over to him and stood across from him saying.

“We need that power to get the radio transmitter working. It’s our only chance of reaching the outside world. We have to find other survivors.”

“Yeah, there’s not that many of us left. We can’t afford any more casualties.” Malcolm agreed.  Hate to tell yah boys but you won’t find much luck in the outside world.  The places I have seen, they’ve been wiped out completely of any chance of human contact.

As the two of them went on about how they founded the colony together, I stepped aside and took some deep breaths.  This whole world created because my uncle wanted to save my grandpa’s life.  To give him a second chance…..sometimes I wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse. And if any of these guys find out that I’m directly related to the man who caused all this…..God help me.

“Let me go back up there.” I then stated.  The two men stopped and looked at me.  I turned back to them and I continued, “I can go up there and talk to him. Just give me a few days and….”

“And what if it backfires? What if he gets violent? I mean, how do you know that he’ll even understand you?”

“War is the last thing he wants, or don’t you remember what he just said? The apes don’t want war, but if you give them a reason to, they will. They could’ve ambushed us and slaughtered us all in the dead of night, they didn’t. They could’ve started the war right there at our doorstep, but they didn’t. Shall I go on?” Dreyfus was beyond words then Malcolm said.

“I’ll go too.” I gave him a harsh glare but he said, “I don’t doubt you Lin but you’ll need a team of workers and one in particular who knows how the dam works.” I let out a groan at the mention of Carver’s name.  He turned to Dreyfus and said, “Give us three days, if we don’t get the dam working in three days, we’ll do it your way.” Dreyfus took a long pause to ponder and gather his thoughts.

“I’m gonna take some men up to Fort Point, I’m gonna go through the armor, I’m gonna see what’s still working. Three days. You’re not back here in three days, we’re going up there and we’re gonna kill every last one of them.”

 My heart clenched and my blood boiled but I kept my emotions down.  I couldn’t risk exposing the truth now.

“Deal.” Malcolm said as the two men turned to me.

“Agreed. I’ll tell Kemp and Foster, you can talk to trigger-happy douchebag.” I said heading back down the stairs to find Foster and Kemp to let them know what was going on.

I managed to the two lug heads and I informed them of what Dreyfus and Malcolm had decided to do.  I helped them load the trucks and soon the rest of the team came along, including Ellie and Alexander.  Normally I’d try to convince Malcolm to leave his kid behind cause I can’t guarantee his safety, but truthfully he’s better at his dad’s side with the apes than staying here with a bunch of triggered, paranoid humans.

Once we got the trucks all packed up once again with the supplies we needed, as well as camping gear Carver took the driver’s seat and he led us on the drive back to the Redwoods.

As we drove along, the weather suddenly shifted from cloudy to rainy once again.  The rain was hard and heavy and without human interference to keep Mother Nature at bay, it practically made it impossible to navigate the winding roads but somehow Carver actually managed to get us back to the main entrance of the red woods.

“No one gets out of the trucks. No one.” I said after Carver cut off the engine. “If I’m not back in two hours….”

“I’m coming in after you.” Malcolm interrupted me.

“No. You all will head back to the city.”

“Lin.”

“I mean it Malcolm. I’m not letting anyone else get hurt. No one back at the colony would care if I got lost. But if any of you get hurt, Dreyfus wouldn’t hesitate to go back on his word. You all go back to the city and not say a word to anyone. Promise?” Malcolm and I had a hard staring contest at each other before he relented.

“Alright.” I pulled up my poncho hood and opened the car door before leaving and headed up the trail.

The mud was extra slippery and the rain felt like being pelted by paintballs.  But I pushed on and followed the same road path until I came to the trail where we first came across the apes yesterday.  I heard a rustle of a bush and I quickly turned before slowly taking out my sniper rifle.

I heard the rustle again and I slowly raised my gun up, my eye resting over the scope but soon a familiar white figure came out from the bushes.

“Kiba.” I said setting the gun down.  His piercing yellow eyes stared at me and he let out a huff.  “Are the others alright? The apes didn’t find you did they?” his ear twitched as he continued to stare at me.  “All these years of talking to Caesar make me forget that you can’t sign, let alone talk. Now I don’t know if you can really understand me, but I understand. It was the apes that got to you and Tsume that day, wasn’t it? Do you remember where their home was?”

Kiba’s eyes remained fixated on me before he hopped off the boulder and walked ahead.  He stopped and turned to look back at me and he let out a grunt.  I picked up my gun and followed behind the large white wolf.

He took me further up steep hills and sharp down drops and when I began to see all the animal skulls decorated above the trees, I had a feeling in my stomach that I was close.  Kiba then stopped and growled anxiously, his head down as his eyes stared straight ahead.  His body stiff and his fur began riling up on end even through the rain.

“Okay, I won’t let you walk any further, I’ll take it from here. Go rejoin the others.” Kiba looked up at me and I gave him a head gesture to go back.  He let out a huffed bark before heading off back into the woods.  I looked back at the animal skulls.  Some hanging off of tree branches or trunks, other tied by string almost as if they were decorations.  “While we’ve done reefs, flags, and banners for decorations, apparently apes prefer the elephant graveyard look as part of their exterior design.”

I followed the animal skulls until I came up to a small pathway, and the second I turned into it, I was greeted by desolate fortress.  When the military had burned the Redwoods all those years ago, they didn’t start at the very entrance of the forest, no they went for the heart of it in hopes that it would cut off any escape routes the apes could take.

But through this desolation they survived and now they’ve turned it into a fortress of wood and mud with a large gateway entry up ahead of the muddy pathway.  Some of the wood had been sharpened like spears and were pointed outward as a warning to any and all that may enter. 

“I would make a King Kong joke right about now but A) it’s not the time, and B) the fact I’m literally about to walk into the World of apes, isn’t something to joke about.” I said to myself as I pushed onward and walked towards the gateway.

As I walked under the bridge, my heart was racing and a hundred thoughts were going through my head.  There’s no way this place is just left here unguarded.  There had to be something waiting for me, a boobytrap, a guard, or an ambush.  Something.  There’s no way Caesar would just leave this place unguarded, especially now.

The sound of soft clanking suddenly caught my attention and I slowly closed my eyes as I felt my body tighten up.  Ever so slowly I turned around and opened my eyes to reveal a large, silverback gorilla coming out from the side of the fortress wall.

He growled lowly as he stood over me, showing me his dominance and size over me.  I raised my hands in surrender as I said.

“Please, I need to speak with Caesar.” I said while remembering to not make direct eye contact.  Caroline taught me that unlike chimps, direct eye contact to gorillas is a sign of a challenge, so it’s always best to not make direct eye contact with them.  The silverback continued to stare me down until it let out a loud roar.

I let out a yelp as I crouched down trying to make myself as small as possible but I looked up and soon saw more gorillas coming out from each side of the fortress.  I soon found myself surrounded by about 5 maybe seven silverbacks and the one who let out the call huffed at the others.

I bit my lip trying to suppress any sound as I buried myself into the mud and tried to stay as still as I could (even though my body was shaking with absolute fear).  I heard some of them sniffing at me, huffing and grunting as they spoke to each other before I felt a tug at my ankles.  I was at first dragged aways before two more gorillas grabbed me by the arms and they began to carry me further into the Ape Fortress.

I could only look above me as chimps and bonobos swung and leapt over the roof over me, chattering and shrieking frantically.  Letting everyone in the troop know that a human had entered their home.  Maybe this was a mistake, any of these apes could easily kill me, hell I could’ve been ripped apart by the silverbacks just earlier but being beaten to death by thousands of apes did not sound like a way I’d want to go out.

After what felt like an eternity, I was soon dropped to the ground before being pulled up by my poncho.  I kept my hands above my head as I now stood before an army of chimps and bonobos.

A moment ago it had been an uproar of apes sounding out the alarm of my arrival, but the second I was forced to stand up an eerie silence now hung in the air.  All the apes glared at me, especially a scarred bonobo that looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t remember.

He slowly came up to me as he stood on the opposite side of me where the silverback who first saw me stood at my left side.  Cautiously I walked forward, keeping my arms raised in surrender as the apes all crowded around me but allowed me passage.

I tried to put my focus onto the various nests and buildings that had been built within the fortress.  Caesar had built such a home for these apes, that I couldn’t be any prouder, and I know the rest of the family would’ve been proud too, especially uncle Will.  And speaking of which, at the top of a large stone platform, Caesar soon stood on top of it, his posture tall and firm as he looked down at me.

When I was now at the stone’s platform, the scarred bonobo and the silverback pushed me into the mud by my shoulders as I let out a grunt.

“Please, please.” I spoke up.  I looked up at Caesar and he looked down at me, a hint of disappointment in his green eyes.  “I know Caesar, I know. No following. But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” I made sure to stay on my knees, not to make any sudden movements and kept my hands on behind my head now.  “Just hear me out.” I asked him.  “They’re scared Caesar, the people at the colony are scared and almost losing hope. But there’s something here, something in your part of the woods that the colony needs.”

“HUMAN LIES!!” the bonobo to my right exclaimed which caused the apes to uproar.

“NO! NO! I’m not lying!” I tried to tell them.  I turned back to Caesar and pleaded, “You know I would never lie to you, when have I ever lied to you? Please believe me!” the apes continued to cry out but Caesar remained stoic on top of his rock as he looked down at all of us.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the spear that the bonobo had, he now flipped over and had the spear part of it pointed directly at me ready to skewer me if Caesar gave the command.  Tears filled my eyes as I mouthed out another please to Caesar, desperate for him to see reason.

He held up his hand and all went silent once again.  I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of my heart racing in my ears.  But soon Caesar spoke.

“Show….me.” a strong wave of relief came over me after he had said that.  But my relief soon turned to fear was I heard a growl from behind me and from my peripheral vision I saw the spear ready to skewer my like a wild boar. “NO!!!!” Caesar cried in an uproar.

He jumped from the platform and took the spear away from the bonobo.  The two of them staring each other down before the bonobo relented.  Caesar turned back to face me, he slowly extended his hand out and gently grabbed my arm and helped me stand up.

“Show. Me.” He said again.  I nodded then Caesar signed out. ‘Ape Council, follow her.’ Caesar then turned to me and gave me a nod.  I then walked out and the selected few apes followed behind Caesar and I.

Following Carver’s directions, I took them deeper into the woods until we came to the river where a small beach-like area rested along the mountains and just across the river was the dam.  Of course I would’ve preferred if he had told me that we had to walk across a wet, narrowed log path to get to the dam but that’s Carver for yah.

I took a deep breath and slowly took a step onto the logs.  Already my foot started to slip as the log also began wobbling beneath my foot.  I got lower and tried to climb on top like an ape but all that did was make me fall off and land on the other logs.

“Goddamn that hurts.” I groaned.  I got up and saw as all the apes were now just staring at me.  I got up brushing off the pain and said, “It’s right across the lake. It’s the only safe way to cross.” I tried again but my muddy hand once again forced me to slip and I landed this time face first into the logs.  “Oh Carver I’m going to kick your ass.” I groaned softly.

I got up again but before I could try again, Caesar stopped me and I turned to him saying.

“No, no I can do this. I swear this time I’ll get it.” I glared at the logs and proceeded to walk up them once again, I got a bit further but just when I thought I could safely stand up, the log shifted and I went rolling down the logs and into the river.

I breached with a gasp as I rubbed my face of the runny mud.  Is this my karma? Cause if it is, this is beyond embarrassing.  It’d be bad enough if Malcolm or any of the others saw me but I’m humiliating myself in front of Caesar and his people.  I swam back to shore before walking along the pebbled shore and I let out a sharp sigh and extended my arms out in surrender.

“I got wet.” I heard what sounded like a mixture of a chuff and a laugh from the scarred bonobo as Caesar came up to me.  “Once again you beat me in the art of balance. I never did get better at it. But I swear to you there’s no other way to get to the dam other than this way. However I wasn’t told just how’d we cross it, I thought there’d be like a more modern bridge to get us there but nooo.” Caesar looked at me pitifully before grunting out.

“Luca.” The silverback gorilla who I met at the entrance of the gate came forward and Caesar signed to him. ‘Carry her.’ Luca grunted in annoyance but one look from Caesar and Luca trudged up to me.  He let out a few grunts before picking me up and placing me on his back.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he now climbed up the logs and successfully walked across them, followed by the others.  I buried my face into Luca’s fur ashamed and said to him.

“I’m so sorry.” Luca didn’t respond as he continued to walk across the bridge.  Finally we reached the end of the bridge and arrived at the entrance to the dam.  Luca set me down and I went up to the metal door and muttered. “Alright, military strength don’t fail me now.” I grabbed a hold of the metal handle and pushed it downward before forcing the door open.

Letting out a few grunts as I pushed the door with all my might until finally it cracked open with a loud screech.  I smirked and pushed the door further inward until the door was fully opened.

“Holy shit. The cowardly bastard was right.” I muttered.  I turned to Caesar and said, “Follow me.” I entered inside and walked down the staircase where the main controls were as I explained, “This is what we used to call a ‘small hydro.’ It was built to service areas to the north of here, but we’ve been working to reroute the power lines to the city. The city used to run on nuclear power but that all burned out years ago, so we’ve been using diesel generators and gasifiers. But if we can just get this dam working, then we have a shot at restoring limited power.”

Caesar and the rest of the apes merely looked at me.  I came down from the main control panels and stood before Caesar.

“I made a fool of myself out there trying to walk the bridge, please tell me I made at least some sense in explaining all that.”

“The….lights.” Caesar said to me.  I smiled a true genuine smile for what felt like—an eternity as I nodded to him.

“Yes. Yes the city lights.” I looked back at all the apes before diverting my attention back to Caesar. “This is your home, I know that. And we don’t want to take any of it away from you. And I know it’s been a decade since we last saw one another, but I swear to you, on my life, that if you allow us to work here—”

“You…brought others?” the scarred bonobo sneered as he walked over to me.  But Caesar kept both him and the other two apes that stood behind the bonobo at bay.

“Only a few.” I said looking at him, trying to show him that I wasn’t afraid of his intimidation tactics anymore.  I turned back to Caesar and continued my statement, “If you allow us to work here, we’ll leave. Good or bad outcome we’ll leave your home and never come back. No following.” I then did something that surprised the apes.

I got down to my knees and extended my right hand into the supplicating gesture that Caesar used to do for us.  I heard the apes all gibbering and hooting in awe.  I didn’t look up at Caesar, I wanted him to know that he was in control of the decision and that I wouldn’t try to suade him with a look in my eyes.

“No…guns.” I heard him say.  I looked up at him and repeated.

“No guns?”

“No….guns.” he said in a more firmer tone.  I nodded and repeated this time in understandment.

“No guns.” I bowed my head again and this time I felt his fingers brush across my palm, accepting my gesture and the deal.

I stood up and with one arm raised up, but with my free hand I remove my rifle strap from my chest.  Ever so slowly I took it off my shoulders and made sure to not grab it with my other hand.  I then held out the rifle to him and he looked at me.

“You said no guns.” He then took my rifle out of my hand and handed it to a balding chimpanzee who let out a few grunts of anger as he stared at my sniper rifle.  “Thank you.”

[bandcampsnoop]

1/30/25.

Man, it's almost been 20 years since Peter Bjorn and John (Stockholm, Sweden) released "Writer's Block", accurately described by Tim Sendra as a masterpiece. I learned that the band will be doing a small tour of the United States to play "Writer's Block" in its entirety. I plan on going to the show in San Francisco at the Great American Music Hall (tickets went on sale yesterday).

In Sendra's review, he mentioned how Peter Bjorn and John's earlier work rocks harder and is more straightforward than "Writer's Block". I'd never really listened to their early catalogue. So, here we are.

This S/T debut is everything I could have hoped for. Is it better than "Writer's Block"? No - and it's not really close. But, this is very good, and reminds me of Elvis Costello and Split Enz. I'll add a shout out to a contemporary musician who's more quietly mining a similar aesthetic as PB and J - Paddy Hanna. This single just dropped from his new album.

Peter Bjorn and John "S/T" was originally released in 2002 on Beat That! and has been reissued on vinyl by Peter Bjorn and John's own label PB and J Recordings.

[animeraider]

Rounding up brown people, day one.

So the rounding up of Brown-skinned people began yesterday in Southern Kern County, around the town of Bakersfield and the various farms that surrounds it. As a result, 75% of the agriculture workforce has stopped showing up for work, afraid of deportation, mis-identification and worse. There is already rampant racial profiling going on; rounding up people at Home Depot and at Gas Stations. Brown-skinned people. Even cars driving down the 99 Highway, which is the major highway through the valley, are being pulled over and detained. 

The people of Bakersfield, an overwhelmingly Right-wing populace (the new/old guy got 60% of the vote), have noticed it and are concerned. So should you, because this is going to impact your groceries.

Right now it's Citrus picking season. In this part of the state that's mostly Oranges. People tend to think of Florida when it comes to Oranges but the truth is that about 40% of the crop is in the Central Valley of California. And right now, that's work that's not getting done.

This time of year evenings get very very cold in the low desert. Not snow-storm cold, but destroy your crops cold. a workforce reduction this big at this crucial time means that the amount of Oranges available to consumers is going to drop dramatically. As per supply and demand rules, that means the price is going up. Way up.

Hang on tight friends, because Lettuce and spinach harvest start in a couple of weeks. Grapes just finished but maintenance time is underway now and that's not getting done.

Kern County has been rated one of the top three agricultural counties in terms of production in the nation, and the workforce is being rounded up to be sent to camps. Right. Fucking. Now.

A couple of things to point out here. I find it interesting that the first roundups, which everyone said would be in Chicago, are happening in California and specifically in the district that used to be represented by former Speaker Kevin McCarthy and current head of Truth Social Devin Nunes. Nunes used to brag about his dairy operation in the area, which is actually in Iowa.

Everyone knows that the big dairy operation in Bakersfield is Larsen's (home of Sam the Hippo! who dies years and years ago). Side note: I remember that poor Hippo, which had been abandoned by some carnival that came through town. It was kept in conditions that would have Peta protesting for miles today. But when I was a little kid, the sheer novelty of there being a Hippo at the local Dairy was kind of amazing. 

Nobody has yet said where these people are being kept.

So how does a lefty blogger from San Francisco know all of this? Welp, I haven't always been from here. I grew up and spent a sizeable chunk of my childhood right where these raids have been happening, and while I don't go there anymore there are people in this world who think I should still know what's going on. I haven't lived there in 43 years, but still it happens.

The white middle class neighborhood I grew up in is mostly Latino now, I've been told. I don't keep in touch with anyone who still lives there. I remember book burnings when I was a kid. Nazi rallies. Fuck them. I am proud to say I escaped all that bullshit, and got most of my close friends and all of my family out of there. Okay, I mostly just shouted words of encouragement but it still happened.

But there was always a migrant worker population. I went to school with many of them. Many were allowed to come to school late because they worked on farms in the mornings. A few even got school credit for it.

None of these people were adding to the crime rate. None of these people were taking jobs other people wanted. Try farming sometime. I quit after 2 hours. It's hard work, and occasionally brutal work and I don't recommend it (I was terrible at it) yet they do it day after day after day because they want to feed their own families. Because what they had before was even worse.

A New York (now Florida) real estate developer is never going to understand the balance of migrant workers necessary to keep the food chain running. Neither is the former leader of a hedge fund, or someone whose whole farm (and/or political) experience has been talking about it on television. Neither is the white and nearly translucent Nazi fuckhead who is the new/old guy's closest advisor on brown people. Neither are the Billionaires of DOGE.

We need to let people know where the people rounded up are being kept. That's where the protests need to be. 

[wanderingmind867]

My take on Kyle Rayner:

Warning: This is a follow-up to my idea of third dc universe created in 1986. And since Kyle Rayner is a character I know very little about, i took the limited information i had and created this concept at school yesterday.

Kyle Rayner was an aspiring graphic designer, living in LA in 1986-1987. Down on his luck and struggling to pay the bills, Kyle was talented but poor. Your basic starving artist. He longed for a chance to prove himself. To make something of himself as a comic book artist, working with the medium he grew up reading. But then one day, fate brought kyle rayner a gift. A gift he would soon come to cherish most dearly.

One day when kyle was out in the hills outside of San Francisco, sketching out the terrain for an art assignment, he saw a giant green meteor crash into the San Francisco Bay. Running to try and find out what it is, kyle finds a strange lantern floating at the bottom of the river. The lantern's still steaming from it's crash landing on earth, and it burns kyle's fingers to touch it. But suffering through the pain, he manages to drag the lantern out of the water and bring it home with him.

Kyle still isn't sure why he felt so mesmerised by the glowing lantern. He wonders if maybe it had some sort of hypnotic effect on him. But it's pulsating light in the evening hours inspires him to make sketches of it. He's reminded of an old favorite comic book character, Hal Jordan and his Green Lantern. But what kyle couldn't expect is for the lantern to end up talking to him telepathically.

It tells him that it came from a far distant world, a far different time and place. When it's home universe collapsed (during the crisis on infinite earths), the lantern was bombarded with energy beams, giving it reinvigorated power and a temporary sense of sentience. Flying through space like an asteroid, it eventually crashed on him. Looking for worthy individuals in the nearby area, kyle was the only one the lantern sensed. So it called him to it, and convinced him to take it home.

Rapidly losing it's sentience (which was only granted to it temporarily), the lantern gifts him a ring, and tells him that if he says an oath in front of the lantern once every 24 hours, he will receive tremendous power. As Kyle trys the oath for the first time (vowing to the ring that he would never betray it's trust) he is transformed into the Green Lantern! And the lantern (now losing its mental sentience) says it's last words to him: "Congratulations, Green Lantern… may your light shine bright…and protect this world you call earth"…

From here, kyle becomes the Green Lantern! Champion of the Underprivileged and Hero to Millions! Coincidentally, Kyle Rayner is eventually hired by a comics company to draw a monthly comic chronicling the exploits of the Green Lantern. Kyle eventually proves himself capable of writing the comic too, meaning his day job is writing and drawing a comic all about his real-life superhero identity.

This whole "superhero writing a comic about himself" idea would allow us some particularly cool avenues of writing. More specifically, it means we can have a back-up feature on the book. The Green Lantern comic covers Kyle's real exploits, but the back-up feature shows us how kyle turns his real adventures into slightly exaggerated tales in his comic book. Hell, we might eventually get some stories told purely through the lens of kyle's comic.

And as for what kyle's lantern is, let me explain: kyle's lantern is a lantern that once belonged to a member of the green lantern corps. But that lantern died during the crisis, and the radiation waves as his sector was destroyed imbued the lantern with temporary sentience. From there it fell to earth and chose kyle to be it's new wielder. So kyle is a member of the green lantern corps, he just doesn't it initially.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3792

merry crismis

it's crismis!

merry crisis

merry chrysler

today was a damn good day.

i did wake up early because we were supposed to start doing stuff before 9:30, but i woke up early enough to talk to leo for a while. that was nice.

i eventually got up and threw on a bra and robe and made my way downstairs. of course the lights were on and everything was exactly as i left it last night since i was the last one up (as per usual), but it was daylight and i was less sleepy so that was good.

i went to bother chels and james when they didn't show up at 9:30, and they made their way out to the living room and we dove right in.

we always start with stockings first, and so i got up to hand them out from their location on the stairs. the additions to them in terms of stuff i got when i went out last night were exactly what were needed. beef jerky for chels, a giant kitkat for james, macadamia nuts for mom, goobers for dad. of course, when i got stuff for myself i just got a couple things because i didn't need a whole lot, but i wanted to spoil everybody else because they all have different tastes and it's nice to spoil them.

gifts went well! i got mom a potato ricer, a mug warmer, a new mount for her phone for her car, and a planner. james i gave fleece lined beanies with lights built in and a waterproof bluetooth speaker. chelsea i gave cowtales and a sticker of caitlyn from arcane as a mongoose, and i gave my papa a book about the production of a war movie that he likes.

i received a BUNCH of woobles kits that i wanted and a few extra accessories (yay!) from papa. mom got me a new northeastern sweatshirt because at some point in the last year and a half i lost my original one. but momma got me an identical one and i was so pleased to receive it. and the gift i got from chelsea and james was both hilarious and perfect:

a rice cooker.

a month ago or so, chelsea and i were making dinner. i'm fairly certain it was stir fry, so we had to make rice. but we've been the people who use a regular-ass pot to cook rice on the stove like normal, i guess. but i looked at this, and i said to chelsea, "how white does our family gotta be to not have a RICE COOKER." and she laughed because it's both hilarious and true.

and so she and james got me a rice cooker.

so now we have a rice cooker.

and it's fucking awesome.

after we finished with our gifts, i went and showered and got dressed and put on my new sweatshirt (which fits perfectly). i got myself together and i grabbed a big box at the table that had gifts for aunt wendy and gramma in it, and mom and i headed to manchester.

aunt wendy is a little bit miserable being back at gramma's since she's sleeping in gramma's den because it's the only place aunt wendy can sleep sitting up. but we brought the gifts over and were there while they opened stuff. mom and i made a christmas quilt and we gave it to aunt wendy. she loves it.

every year mom gets aunt wendy a snow globe from the san francisco snow globe company. it's a tradition from their dad who passed in 2001. it happens every year. and every year they both cry. christmas was grampa's favorite holiday, so it's tough on them.

but gramma gave me some gingerbread cookies which i'm thoroughly addicted to (the recipe is 302 years old, homie. this shit's been like crack cocaine for generations), but this time she made them into piggies!! they were delightful. what a great shape for a gingerbread cookie.

after being there for maybe 20 minutes, mom and i had to leave again. she was NOT feeling good, and being in gramma's company drains her quickly. so we headed back home.

the rest of the afternoon consisted of playing uno show em no mercy (which mom has dubbed "uno mega kill" because she can't remember the name), eating cookies, and watching battle bots. eventually i got up to make dinner.

yesterday i made the executive decision to make chicken taco salad for dinner. it was the right call.

i cut the chicken first, into little pieces that were often too big, but i had so much that i had to cut and cook in batches. thankfully, one batch took the same time to cook as the next batch did to cut. i started with putting the salsa into a crock pot, turned it on high, and then as the chicken got cooked, i dumped it right in to keep it hot and cook it together.

when that was all done, it was time for the ultimate gift:

the rice cooker.

i pulled it out, washed it and dried it all, and then got to making the mexican rice. the packages filled just over three times of the little cup that it came with. filled it with water to the line, plugged it in, pressed the buttons, closed the lid. and away it went. fucking superb.

i left the slow cooker and the rice cooker on the stove while i went and talked to my sister who showed me her gifts and stuff. i went back and forth between the kitchen, the eggs' space, and the living room. it took about half an hour to finish totally, which gave the chicken enough time to get salsa juice, cook the rice completely, and then get some beans heated up.

dinner was perfect. and there was so much choke i cooked that there's PLENTY for leftovers. james, chels, and dad will be very happy with their leftovers. there's enough of all of it.

i did, however, fuck up when cleaning the rice cooker, but i fixed it by disassembling it further lmao. i put it back together without issue.

after cleaning up after myself, i grabbed some stuff from my car and came upstairs. i watched an episode and a half of ncis with mom and moved my shit into my room.

i checked in with joel while i was cooking dinner. he's been chillin. i'll probably see him on friday, which will be nice. but that means i gotta wrap all the gifts i have for him and his family, since their christmas is saturday.

and all day i've been talking to leo. leo, who is as incredibly sweet as he is incredibly horny, is simply very cute. i am planning on seeing him next week for the standard sleepover, complete with vidya games, drinking, dinner, dick, and diner food in the morning. it's a great arrangement, but i wish i had more money so i could see him more often. he's one of my very best friends and i love hanging out with him.

but that leads us to now. i am in bed, my eyes are tired, and i have to get up at a stupid hour tomorrow because we have someone coming to deal with our heating. at 8am. which is rude.

but that's all. merry crimbo to all and to all a happy hanukkah and happy kwanzaa. :)