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hateswifi · 5 years ago

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Making Do (With What Life Give Us): Part 1

Asked to me by @abrx2002

For a Daminette what if She met the wayne family young. Dick tought gymnastics and Romanian, Jason taught street skills such and spanish, Tim taught detective skills and business tactics. By the time she met damian at like 12 she was an adorable badass. They later became food friends and started dating a bit before she was ladybug. Because she knew their secret and tikki was alright with it after knowing they were also heros. Later after the class betrayal damian shows up and salg is everywhere

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Marinette had been going to Gotham Academy on scholarship since before her mum had died. She made a lot of friends who helped her out in the long run. That was until CPS found a permanent home for her. Right now, she was missing her brothers, well her adopted brothers, dearly as she looked at the window. A family from Paris had adopted her and now she was on her way to a new life. She thought over her life up until this point and wondered how could she have lost it all so quickly?

Young Marinette, around the age of eight, had been running to class, when she ran into Dick Grayson, the sophomore class president.

“I’m so sorry,” Marinette said picking herself up off the ground, tears glistening in the corner of her eyes.

“It’s ok there is no need to cry,” he said, crouching down to the little girl’s height.

“Oh no! I’m going to be late! Mum is going to be angry!” Marinette said tears spring from her eyes.

“No come on I’ll walk you to class, and you won’t get in trouble ok?” He asks standing holding out his hand.

“You promise?” Marinette asks, grabbing his hand.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Dicks says leading her to class. When he led her to class he opened the door and greeted the teacher. “Sorry Miss, but Marinette here was helping me for a school promotion video that the class presidents are putting together.”

“Of course Richard. Marinette please take your seat,” the teacher responds as sweet as honey. Marinette does as the teacher says and takes her seat. She waves to Dick as he heads to his class.

When Marinette got home that day she drew a sparkly thank you card for Dick. The next day she was going to give it to Dick after school, but when the final bell had rung and she had left her class she was stopped by a couple of fifth-graders.

“Look at little miss clutz,” one of the boys, Samuel, said cornering her in the locker room.

“Oh, what’s that?” One of the other boys, Isaac, sneered snatching the card.

“Give that back!” Marinette screamed. “That’s not for you!”

“Leave her alone she didn't do anything to you,” a darker voice said entering the locker room. Marinette room the distraction from the new voice to stop on Samuel’s foot and grab the card.

“Come on guys, move! I’m not dealing with Jason!” Isaac said, grabbing Samuel by the arm and dragging him away.

“Are you ok, Pixie-Pop?” The voice from earlier, apparently Jason, asked coming around a corner.

“Ya,” she says looking at the ground. “But I was going to give this to Dick before I left, but I can’t.”

“Grayson?” Jason asks sitting on the ground leaning up against a locker across from her.

“Yes, how’d you know?” She asks sitting on the ground.

“He’s my brother,” Jason sighs. “Why’d you make him a card anyway?”

“He got me out of a tardy yesterday and didn’t yell at me when I ran into him,” Marinette explains. “Would you be able to give it to him?”

“Of course I promise I’ll give it to him, Pixie-Pop!” Jason said standing up as she held out her card.

“Thank you, Jason!” Marinette said, smiling before skipping away.

Jason leaves after grabbing his homework from his locker and heads to the car Alfred was driving. When he gets in the car Dick is already there. “Here you go,” Jason says, handing him the handmade card. “From a little Asian girl.”

“Marinette?” Dick asks taking the card.

“Ya I think so, how do you know her?” Jason asks, slouching.

“She’s a sweet little clumsy girl. She had the start of a panic attack when she realized she was going to be late,” Dick said, looking at the glittery card. Tim slid in the car next to his brothers.

“Who was going to be late?” Tim asks closing the door.

“A little girl Dick met and saved from a tardy,” Jason says.

“That makes sense, but how’d you meet this little girl?” Tim asks, buckling his seat belt.

"She was cornered by a group of fifth-graders," Jason explains nonchalantly looking out his window.

"She gets bullied," Tim asks.

"Apparently for clumsy nature," Jason responds.

"We could help her," Dick says.

"Ya and that would go over like a fart in church. Just think, hey little girl, we can teach you to fight if you get in this car and come to our house," Jason says sarcastically, looking Dick like he is dumb. Well, at least his suggestion was dumb.

"I guess so," Dick says, his usually bright smile turned to a frown. After that, the rest of the car ride was filled with a heavy silence.

When Marinette had gotten to her family apartment she called home from school, her mum laid on the couch surrounded by multiply empty bottles. She tries to quietly walk to her room, in hopes her mum wouldn't hear her enter late. "Nette, why are you home late?" the drunken woman asks, sitting up slowly. "It sounds like you're avoiding me, are you in trouble?"

"No mum, I just wanted to let you sleep," Marinette responds, trying to walk to her room faster.

"Are you sure, because it looks like you have a hole in your uniform," the woman says, now standing in front of her.

"I'm sorry mum, I tripped. I didn't mean to rip my tights," Marinette says, backing up slowly, almost curling in on herself.

"You're so clumsy! Do you know how much the goddamn uniforms cost?! No! because you're an ungrateful brat!" she screamed. She smacked Marinette across the face. "Get out! I don't want to see your face!"

"I'm sorry, mum! Please don't kick me out again! The hole is fine I can sew it!" Marinette pleaded, earning herself a kick.

"And risk us looking poor!? I don't think so now, get! out!" she says, throwing Marinette towards the door. She wished her dad had stuck around, maybe her mother wouldn't be like this. Her father, she doesn't know much about him, left a couple of weeks before Marinette was born. Her mum had resented Marinette since she had been born. The only family Marinette had in the world and her mum treated her like this.

Marinette was glad it was close to summer so she wouldn't freeze on the streets and she hoped that the Gotham Rogues or heroes wouldn't find her. She found a nice little alleyway and took out her pencil and homework and started doing her homework. As she completed the last of it, she finally let the tears slip down her cheeks and onto the paper. She fell asleep to the sounds of sirens and honking horns.

She woke up early the next morning to the sun shining down on her. Her stomach grumbled so she stood up and left the alley where she saw a grocery store just down the street with apples out front. She knew her mum would get in trouble if people knew how she slept outside last night or how she actually got those bruises. She walked by the grocery store and grabbed an apple and ran down the street toward school.

School that day was normal, she caught a glimpse of a black long-hair boy with blue eyes looking at her in the hall, he kinda looked like a grumpier Dick. After final bell, her teacher had pulled her aside to ask about her check and Marinette explained that a kid had hit hurt at the park after school. and the other bruises had been because she's clumsy. The teacher had given her a weary look and told her to head home.

"Mum, I'm home," Marinette says, opening the door. She had been home a bit earlier since she ran all the way home. Her mum was passed out at the table, bills under her head. Her mum works hard every night and when she came home in the mornings she was either high, drunk, very sore, or all of the above. She got paid a decent amount for her work, but most of it went to bills and alcohol. Marinette was going to the academy on scholarship. Today her mum was high, and probably wouldn't be aware of much until dinner. Marinette walked to the fridge to see if she could make anything for when her mum woke up. There were some green beans, carrots, and sauce in the fridge, and she knew she had rice in the cabinets. She was going to take some money and pick up some chicken to make a stir-fry. She had been cooking for a while or else she wouldn't eat because her mum was always too tired to cook.

After she grabbed some chicken and onions, she walked to the front to pay. This is a small, family-run business she goes to because the prices are usually better. "Sir, this morning I didn't have money on me and I took an apple. I'm sorry, but may I pay for that now," Marinette says. She is standing on her tiptoes trying to give the man the money.

The man, the father of the owner smiles softly. The poor girl was bruised on her face and bit on her arms. "Thank you for apologizing, but I'll pay for this. Please come back if you have a problem at home," the man says with a small, but warm smile.

"Mum tries her best. I just want her not to be angry when she wakes up," Marinette says, putting the five-dollar bill into the tip jar. "I'm sorry again about the apple, mum was too tired to cook last night. Thank you for everything."

"It was honorable for you to come back and try to pay for the apple, not many would," he says, waving to the girl as she leaves the store.

She makes the food and by the time it's done her mum is up and hungry. As she sat at the bottle filled table, her mum looked at the food. "Did you take my hard-earned money without my permission?" the woman asks stabbing a piece of chicken.

"I.. I just wanted you to be happy," Marinette said, a stray tear landing on her plate.

"I would be happy if you didn't take my money without my permission. Money doesn't grow on trees!" she screamed by now Marinette was eating a bit faster fearing the inevitable. "Go to your room, you're wasting too much food."

"Yes, sorry mum," Marinette says, sliding off the chair. She grabs her backpack off her chair and walks with her head down to her room. Her room is attached to the fire escape, so she sits looking over the city and does her homework. Her mum was home tonight, so she couldn't even go back out later and finish her dinner. After about an hour or so, the sound of splintering wood rang throughout the apartment. Around five minutes later she hears her mum's blood-curdling scream. Marinette, not wanting to get hurt, runs up the fire escape. She holds her breath as she hears heavy footsteps walk around the house, but no soon after she sees two black cars pull away.

She runs inside and sees her mum's body, bloody, on the floor. She runs over and pulls her mum's head onto her lap. She leans over her, hugging her while crying. "I'm so sorry, mum."

Her mum raises a bloody hand to her daughter's face. Her once beautiful dark brown hair, now blood-soaked. "Mari...nette, I... am sorry.... you will.... do great things one day. I... lo.. love you," she says before her bright blue eyes look off far into the distance and dim.

When the cops found her twenty minutes later, Marinette still sat there, rocking back and forth asking her mum to come back to her. "Excuse me, dear, we have to take her now," the nice cop-lady said, trying to pick up the now bloody girl.

"No please! She's all I have left. She didn't deserve this! She said she loved me! If she loved me she wouldn't have left like daddy! Please is she ok?" Marinette screamed, trying to hug her mum's corpse in hopes it was just a terrible nightmare.

"Dear, we're going to wait in the car, ok? The nice paramedics are going to do everything they can," she says, picking the girl, who should weigh more, up. She walked with the girl down the three flights of stairs. Outside there were some reporters along with a couple of the bat family including Nightwing, Red Hood, and the newest Robin. The two eldest birds paused, looking at the poor bloody bluenette.

"Is she hurt?" Nightwing asks, looking at the bruises.

"Besides some bruises from what looks like domestic abuse," the nice cop-lady answers the hero.

"No, mum was just tired! She would never hurt me on purpose! It was my fault, I shouldn't have tripped then she wouldn't have gotten angry," Marinette explains, grabbing Nightwing's hand. She cries while pleading. "She said she loves me! She didn't mean to hurt me!"

"It's ok," Nightwing says, leaning down to hug the girl. He rubs small circles into her back.

"Dear, it's time to go, were going to take you to the station before you go to the group home, ok?" the cop-lady says slowly.

"But what about mum? She's fine, right?" Marinette asks, breaking away from Nightwing.

"I'm sorry honey, she's gone. But don't you worry she loved you," the nice cop-lady explained.

"No... she's all I have left. She can't be gone! She left me!" Marinette screams, running away from everyone around her.

"We got a runner!" Robin says. "We'll go get her." The bat fam runs down the street after where they thought she went.

"Nightwing, you know her?" Batman asks, looking out for the girl. He sees her but doesn't say anything, wanting her to have some time and for him wanting answers.

"She's the little third grader that I helped get out a tardy," he explains, looking at the poor girl.

"The one you wanted to teach self-defense to?" Hood asks, getting ready to jump down there.

"Yes, that's the one," he explains.

"Can we foster her?" Robin asks, looking at Bruce.

"She has no one else," Hood pleads.

"She has blue eyes and black hair," Nightwing adds.

"We'll talk about it later," Bruce says, dropping down to where she sits. They grab her and head back to her apartment. She gets in the car quietly, her eyes blank and cheeks tear-stained, and bruised. After the cruiser pulled away and the reporters had left, the bat fam headed home.

"So can we have a little sister?" Dick asks, plopping down in the spinning chair in the Batcave.

"You didn't let us get sent to a group home, would you really let that sweet little get sent there?" Jason pleads

"I'll see what I can do," Bruce grumbles before leaving.

The next day during school, which Marinette didn't show up for, understandable, Bruce, Alfred, and the Wayne's lawyer head to the police department to pick up the poor girl. When they walk in everyone literally stops and stares. "Are you officer Kansinsky?" Bruce asks as he got to the back.

"Yes this is her, how may I help you?" she asks, shaking his hand.

"We're here about Marinette Jiayang. We would like to foster her until she can find a permanent home," Bruce says.

"Of course! Do you have the papers?" she says. "She had a rough night, right now she's sleeping on the couch in the commissioner's office. What made you want to help her?"

"Well, you see I actually love children. I have three, Dick, Jason, and Tim, they're adopted. They convinced me to take her in because they already help her at school and she deserves the same chance at life as my sons do," Bruce explains, holding out the papers.

"Ok well this seems to be in order, but you're not off the hook that easily. CPS may drop by unannounced, ya know to catch you as natural as possible. I'm going to go grab her," Officer Kansinsky explained. After a couple of minutes, she reappeared with a sleepy Marinette in her arms.

"Bye-bye nice cop-lady," Marinette says sleepily with a small wave.

"Bye-bye, Mari, I hope you enjoy your time with the Waynes," she said, kissing the sleepy girl's head. She then hands her to Bruce and he smiles softly. She had been through hell just like him and his sons, but he will try and make the most of her time with him and his family.

"Alfred, your newest grandchild," Bruce says, buckling her into her seat.

"Sir, you might have a problem," Alfred says, driving to the boy's school. "You need to pick her up a uniform, her uniform is too bloody to clean, and the work she missed from today."

"Ok, make sure the boys don't wake her up, she didn't sleep last night," Bruce explains, getting out of the cars and walks toward the entrance. When he gets to the front desk he says "I'm here to change guardianship, pick up a uniform, and work."

"Who's guardianship?" the receptionist says, pulling up the files on his computer.

"Marinette Jiayang, I'm her new guardian. I also need to buy her a new uniform. Am I able to do that here? Also, she wasn't in school today, how can I pick up her work?" Bruce asks.

"I'll call the teacher about the homework. What size do you need for Miss Marinette? Will her name be changed?" the receptionist asked.

"I don't know about the size, a small, maybe? The name change is up to her, but I don't think so," Bruce says.

The receptionist gets up and leaves. When he comes back a couple of minutes later with three uniforms. "These are covered by her scholarship," he explains, handing him the uniforms.

"Hello, I have Marinette's stuff. I'm a teacher aid," shes says, handing him the work. "There are also some cards and good wishes with the work. Will she be back tomorrow?"

"Thank you. I don't think she'll be back till Monday," Bruce says.

"Is she ok?" she asks.

"She's sleeping in the car right now, she was up all night," Bruce explains then turns to the receptionist. "Can I take my three sons out right now? I want them to meet their sister."

"Of course," he said, picking up a phone. "Richard Greyson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake to the office please, you're dismissed." After the boys got to the office, they headed to the car. They were told to be quiet because Marinette was sleeping.

"Miss Marinette, it's time to head inside," Alfred said from the front. The rest sat frozen, not wanting to startle the poor girl. Marinette rubbed her eyes with a yawn.

"Where... where am I? Jason, Dick, is that you?" Marinette asks, oddly calm while looking around.

"Yes, it's us. We convinced our father to foster for you," Dick says with a smile.

"I'm hungry, I haven't had a full meal in a couple of days," she answers as Alfred opens the door for her to get out. "Mum got mad last night and said I couldn't finish dinner."

"What about the night before?" Bruce asks, holding out his hand for her to take.

"I had tripped and tore my tights. Mum got angry and told me to get out. I stole an apple the next morning after I finished my homework and fell asleep," Marinette explained as Alfred opened the door, her new adopted brothers following behind her.

"Did you sleep outside, but that's dangerous," he says.

"Yes, I slept in a quiet alley and woke up to the sun. When is dinner going to be?" Marinette asks, looking around the entrance.

"It could be within the hour, Miss Marinette. I'll show you to your room," Alfred said, taking Marinette's hand to lead her upstairs.

After the car pulled away and Marinette was out of sight, Dick exclaimed. "Can I teach her self-defense?"

"No! That's no fair! I want to teach her self-defense!" Jason whined.

"How about we see if she wants to learn first. Now, boys time for homework. I'm guessing Marinette will join you after," Bruce said walking to his office.

Around ten minutes later, Marinette appeared wearing one of Jason's shirts that could count as a dress. "Miss Marinette Master Bruce has informed me that we will get you clothes you can wear tomorrow morning along with all other essentials," Alfred said, pulling out a seat next to the rest of the boys.

"Will I be able to have anything from home?" Marinette asks, scooching to the edge of her chair so she could swing her legs.

"I'll talk to Master Bruce about it later. If it would make you more comfortable, I feel like I can arrange it," Alfred said, handing her a pencil. "Now do your work, Miss." He finished before walking away to prepare dinner.

"Thank you, guys! I probably would still be at the police station or put at a group home if you hadn’t talked to your dad," Marinette said with a sad smile.

"We were once in the same position," Tim said. "We haven't met yet, but my name is Tim and I’m your new brother."

"Hi! I'm Marinette!" she says, smiling before looking down at her page.

"How are you feeling Pixie-Pop? We heard what happened yesterday," Jason says.

"I'm tired and I miss mum, but before she went bye-bye she seemed happy," Marinette said with a sad smile.

Dinner came and Marinette ate three portions, she was malnourished. Alfred tried to warn her to slow down so she wouldn't throw up, she listened. She went to bed early.

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Sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy. Three more parts coming out soon.

#marinette x batfam #marinette dupain cheng #batfam #maribat #ml salt fic #lila salt #marinette x damian #alya salt #damian x marinette #marinette deserves better #wifiwrites

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marketingimobiliariasxyz-blog · 5 years ago

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minipelissari · 6 years ago

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Samlere V Forhandlere, kan vi ikke alle bare komme sammen?

Okay, nu er min forståelse for vores civilisations begyndelse måske ikke hundrede procent nøjagtige, men det er meningen, at hvis vi springer frem til 2016, er det i det væsentlige samme ting der foregår i dag. Uanset hvor langt vi er kommet som en art, er der altid konflikt, og der er altid nogen der ser ud til at komme videre på bekostning af en anden. Men hvem er i den rigtige, og hvem er den forkerte? Er der nogen, der gør dig syg, eller er det bare din opfattelse af situationen, fordi du ikke får din egen vej? Dette er vigtige spørgsmål, og når det kommer til emner for samlere og forhandlere i det retro spillemiljø, er der ikke noget let svar.

Ideen om retro spilindsamling er en simpel. Samleren ønsker gamle spil. Måske vil de bevare video gaming historie for fremtidige generationer. Måske kan de bare godt lide at spille gamle spil, der minder dem om yesteryear. Måske tror de bare, at retro spil ser cool ud på deres hylder. Uanset årsagerne til det, vil solfangeren bare indsamle.

Der er noget om indsamling, som de fleste af os kan forholde sig til. Når du er i skole, er der normalt noget, der er populært, at alle børnene er i. Da jeg var i grundskolen alle disse år siden var det Garbage Gang-handelskort. Mand, vi elskede garbage Gang. Vi var vanvittige for dem. Næsten alle i vores klasse, drenge og piger, samlede Garbage Gang, handlede Garbage Gang og spillede med Garbage Gang på vores frokostpause. Denne mentalitet stikker sammen med mange af os, mens vi vokser. Kun de fleste af os fortsætter ikke med at samle Garbage Gang ind i vores voksenalder (jeg solgte mit komplette sæt i 2010 og satte det i ro). Som voksne bliver vores huse fyldt med film, musik, bøger og en levetid på fotos og minder. Vi har hylder fyldt med bøger. Måske er det fotografier eller malerier eller møbler. Jeg har en ting til min rejsefotografi og hænger dem overalt, men jeg vil altid have en spilsamling også. Der er kun noget tilfredsstillende om at have en samling ting du kan lide.

Ideen om videresalg er igen en simpel. Som vores caveman-ven fra tidligere, vil nogen altid bemærke, at der er et hul i markedet. Værdi er i det væsentlige, uanset hvem der er villig til at betale for noget. Du tror måske ikke, at en håndfuld bær er tilstrækkelig kompensation for at gå ud og står over for en uldmammoet i kamp, men hvis nogen er villig til at bekæmpe denne mammut for dig, så er det, hvad bærene er værd. Princippet har ikke rigtig ændret sig gennem årene. Hvis nogen er villig til at betale top dollar for noget, så er det hvad det er værd.

Men på hvilket tidspunkt sælger noget på bliver moralsk tvivlsomt? Tja, hvad nu hvis vores hule venner med bærene ved, at hans ven bare elsker bær og ved, at han vil arbejde for dem? Er det retfærdigt? Hvad hvis hans ven sulter ihjel, og han sætter ham i en farlig stilling, fordi han ved, at han har brug for maden så slemt? Så er det lidt mere tvivlsomt, sikkert, og du kan forstå, hvorfor nogle måske finder denne taktik forværrende.

Indsamling mod videresalg er et argument, der er opstået inden for retrospilsamfundet i de seneste år netop på grund af dette moralske gråområde. Samlere ønsker at indsamle, fordi det er, hvad de kan lide at gøre. Uanset om de gør det for at spille spillet eller se på dem eller bevare dem, gør de det på grund af en kærlighed til at indsamle og ikke for deres egen personlige pengemæssige gevinst. Forhandlere har bemærket, at gamle spil er meget eftertragtede af disse samlere, og så søger de at erhverve spil, især sjældnere titler, så de sælger dem videre til kollektørerne for fortjeneste.

Det er nemt at se, hvorfor samlerne måske finder videresalg så foragtige. Videresalg effektivt styrker markedsværdien af spil, hvilket gør det vanskeligere for samlere at gøre, hvad de elsker at gøre. En forhandler kan gå til et garage salg og finde nogle gamle spil, som de ved, er værdige seriøse penge til de rigtige mennesker, men til de mennesker, der sælger dem, er de bare uønskede, at de sælger for pennies. Har du nogensinde set Toy Story 2? Det er hovedsageligt hvad kyllingens mand gør, når han spionerer Woody i garagesalget. Han ved, at cowboy legetøjet er værd at store penge, og så vil han prøve at narre Andys mor til at sælge ham for intet, så han kan maksimere sin fortjeneste. Kyllingemanden kan være et komedie-animeret skurk (udtalt af Wayne Knight, ikke mindre), men der er folk derude, der gør hver weekend for at prøve at tjene penge fra videospil-samlere, og det er det ikke noget, vi burde være irriteret over?

Der er noget, der forekommer iboende skyggefulde ved at købe spil, som du ved, er værd at mange penge fra en person, der ikke har den viden og sælger dem billigt og derefter udnytter denne situation til egen fordel. Men er forhandleren virkelig skyldig?

I mange tusind år har guld været en værdifuld vare her på Jorden. Grunden til at det er så værdifuldt er, at det er så sjældent. Som jeg lærte i en dokumentarisk hovedrolle professor Brian Cox for et par uger siden, dannes guld, når massive stjerner eksploderer, og det er så sjældne tilfælde, at hvis du skulle samle alt det guld, mennesket havde nogensinde fundet, ville det stadig kun være udfylde tre olympiske mellemstore svømmebassiner. I dag tillægger vi værdi til andre ting end skinnende, sjældne metaller, som vi graver ud af jorden.

Spil og guld er ikke så forskellige. Forhandlere er i det væsentlige moderne prospektører, leder ud og leder efter de dyrebare ting, som de så vil kunne sælge til den højeste budgiver (ret bogstaveligt i mange tilfælde, da disse spil i vid udstrækning kommer op på eBay). Forhandlere søger efter en sjælden eller værdifuld vare, og så sælger de den for at tjene penge. Samlere finder det ubehageligt, fordi de tror, at det dræber omkostningerne ved de spil, de ønsker at indsamle, og fordi de pågældende forhandlere ikke køber spilene til kærlighed til at samle, men for kærlighed til fortjeneste.

Men bør samlere virkelig begrænse forhandlere til at tjene penge? Vi tjener alle penge i vores liv. Og vi alle gør forskellige ting for at tjene penge. Gør penge ved at sælge gamle spil værre end at sige, at sælge dine gamle tøj? Formentlig, et sted derude, er der nogen der elsker at samle gamle tøj. Er de i øjeblikket på et internetforum et eller andet sted, stønner over folk, der ikke er ligeglade med at indsamle tøj, der går til velgørenhedsbutikker og rydder op på alle de gode tilbud?

Endnu vigtigere er det, at forhandleres handlinger faktisk påvirker samlerens evne til at indsamle? Værdi er, hvad nogen er villig til at betale for noget, men hvis de kan få det billigere andetsteds så vil de sandsynligvis gøre det. En forhandler kan ikke opkræve for meget for det spil, han har købt i et garage salg, fordi medmindre der kun er en kopi, vil en anden sælge det til en meget mere rimelig pris, og samleren kunne bare købe den fra dem. Sådan fungerer det frie marked. Køber og sælgere sammen bestemmer markedsværdien af en vare. Og så hvis samlere ikke betaler latterlige priser for de spil, som forhandlere tilbyder, så bliver disse forhandlere nødt til at sænke deres priser. Det ser ud til at være kortsynet at tro på, at der er onde forhandlere derude, der køber op alle lagre af gamle spil og gør alle de fattige kolleger remortgage deres huse bare så de har råd til en kopi af Stadium Events på NES eller Power Strike II på Sega Master System.

Sandheden, som det generelt er tilfældet i denne form for konflikt, er et sted i midten. Forhandlere er i det væsentlige at købe noget og derefter sælge det til en højere pris. Det er præcis det samme som hvad butikkerne over hele verden gør, herunder butikkerne, som samlere ofte vil gå på på jagt efter klassiske spil at afhente. Samlere opfanger ofte en håndfuld spil fra fora eller en Facebook-spilside, idet de ved at de allerede har fået de fleste af disse spil og kun køber bundtet til den ene titel, så sælger de dem på de duplikatkopier af de spil de har selv, ubevidst bliver forhandlere selv. Jeg har gjort det selv. Vi har alle …

Der er ikke noget ægte sort og hvidt svar her. Det er nemt at forstå, hvorfor nogle samlere måske hader ideen om, at forhandlere kommer ind for dem og finder et klassisk spil til en lejlighedskøb. Men der er intet, grundlæggende, galt med nogen, der sælger varer for at tjene nogle penge. Det er ikke anderledes, hvordan en butik arbejder. Køb lavt, sælge højt; det er det generelle princip, at enhver virksomhed over hele verden opererer under.

Måske er det på høje tid, at samlere og forhandlere lægger arme og gjorde deres bedste for at komme sammen. En god ven af mig, der er en ordentlig, die-hard samler, har været venlig med en af de nævnte forhandlere og får nu tilbudt første dibs på den mintie friske lager gutterne finder hver uge. Det virker som en god løsning for mig! Der er mere end nok klassiske videospil derude for alle, og hvis lejlighedsvis du skal betale flere penge, end du gerne vil betale for noget, så er det bare naturen at indsamle noget. Hvis du vil have noget så dårligt, så bør du være parat til at betale for det, og hvis du ikke er det, er du virkelig det, der er forpligtet til at indsamle, eller skaler du bare?

Hobbyer koster penge. Min bankbalance kan bekræfte det. I årenes løb har jeg brugt en formue på ting, jeg nyder, og jeg ville ikke engang turde gætte på, hvor mange penge jeg har brugt på videospil. Fornærmede jeg det? Nej. Gaming er min hobby, og jeg har samlet spil i over tyve år på grund af det. Som vi talte om tidligere, bestemmes værdien af hvor meget en person er villig til at betale for noget. Det gælder også for samlere. Hvor meget vil du betale for noget, du nyder at gøre?

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fotballdrakterbarn2016-blog · 6 years ago

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Ronaldo ønsker en gjenforening med Wayne Rooney

Juventus-stjernen Cristiano Ronaldo vil ha en gjenforening med den tidligere Manchester United-lagkameraten Wayne Rooney senere i sin karriere. Ronaldo drakt barn til salgs nettbutikk.

Ronaldo sa: "For meg er makt av Wayne Rooney hans mentalitet og styrke. Han stopper aldri, han løper alltid, hjelper laget. Han er en fantastisk lagspiller og han scorer mål. Han gjorde viktige mål, for meg er han fantastisk. Du kan også kjøpe Juventus drakt 2018/19 i butikken vår.

"Han gjorde mange mål, hva kan jeg si? Jeg savner å leke med ham. Fremtiden vet ingen. Kanskje vi skal spille en dag sammen igjen. " Juventus drakt barn med høy kvalitet!

Rooney forlot Manchester United to sesonger siden for Everton før han kom til DC United i USA.

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oselatra · 7 years ago

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Forever, sculpture

Artwork, and a city director, carve out a special place along Little Rock's riverfront.

Yari Montes, a young woman from North Little Rock, made her annual trip to Riverfront Park last Wednesday so she could have her photograph made next to her favorite sculpture. Her own pretty face framed by long brown hair and a rose tucked behind one ear, Montes leaned in close to "Forever a Rose," an almost life-size bronze of a kneeling woman with a bowed head, the sweep of her hair mostly obscuring her face, a rose in her hand. Her back is to the Arkansas River; in front is a grassy area partially enclosed by roses.

Montes said the sculpture is both beautiful and a bit sad. "It's like she was going through a hard time," Montes said.

It was the sixth year Montes has had her photograph made with "Forever a Rose," and a reporter just happened to be passing by. "Today was the day!" she laughed. Then she and her brother and three sisters continued their walk in the park.

It was exactly what Dean Kumpuris envisioned when he got the idea that downtown Little Rock's riverside needed some loving care to attract people to the park. Kumpuris and his brother, Drew, donated "Forever a Rose" to the park in 2009, just a few years after Dean Kumpuris began his Saturday walks through the park with his dog, Boris. "If it weren't for Boris, bringing him down here, a lot of this wouldn't have happened. I would take him on walks and I'd think, 'What can we do?' "

The French bulldog, now 13, has his own sculpture in the park, in the Vogel Schwartz Sculpture Garden, a cluster of small-scale works east of the Little Rock Marriott Hotel. The bronze Boris is one of an estimated 115 sculptures located (or to be located) in the park and around Little Rock, all gifts to the city made possible by donations from individuals, family foundations and the Sculpture at the River Market Inc. nonprofit. Since 2004, close to $4 million worth of sculpture has been installed; the replacement value of the works is higher.

Within weeks, the Vogel Schwartz garden will expand into a new area going in up the slope from the original, where a road turnaround was once located. The garden is itself being sculpted, with curving Corten steel walls creating a boundary and landscaped pathways within.

Robert Vogel said his family foundation gave a donation to make the garden possible after Kumpuris came to him with "his vision." Kumpuris, who is Vogel's close friend, has no trouble asking for money to buy sculpture and make other park improvements, Vogel said with a laugh. Kumpuris himself has said that sometimes when people see him coming, they run.

Vogel also said he believes the park, officially Julius Breckling Riverfront Park, named for a former director of the city's Parks and Recreation Department, should be renamed for Kumpuris.

***

On a recent hot Saturday morning, Kumpuris, a gastroenterologist and a Little Rock city director since 1995, was dressed in long sleeves and long pants and spraying weeds from an insecticide container labeled "Dr. DK" when this reporter met up with him in the park. "This is my job," he said as he sprayed.

You can find Kumpuris at the park every Saturday. He not only keeps the weeds down, he helped design the landscaping, chose many of the plants and has had a hand in the installation of every piece of sculpture. He knows every artist and the name of every work.

The Arkansas Times, it should be noted, has had some critical things to say about the sculpture, particularly about the scale of the work in the Vogel Schwartz garden. The garden did not originally have the intimate setting that the small sculptures — many more appropriate for a private garden or indoors — demanded. Now, thanks to the redesign, the placement of boulders that the city hauled down from Petit Jean Mountain and plantings that have matured, the sculptures work better in its big park setting. The garden now has a hidden feel: The Corten steel "waves" that parks department planner Leland Couch designed as partial enclosures mean that "you can never see all the sculptures at one time," Kumpuris said.

Kumpuris acknowledged that "we," meaning himself and the parks department, "made a lot of mistakes" with the garden in the beginning. Part of that had to do with the size of the work: The sculptures, some just inches tall, were small enough to make off with. Vandals have been able to remove bolts, grind through bases and simply wrest parts of them away. A total of five sculptures have been stolen since 2011; three were returned by the thieves after the publicity and two were replaced. One piece, Lori Alcott-Fowler's "Conversation with Myself," a sculpture of a person bending over a smaller version of the figure, was repeatedly vandalized; it has been moved into a more visible spot and made more secure.

***

Kumpuris gave us a tour, starting with "Beginning Life," a marble sculpture suggesting a seed. It is one of the loveliest sculptures in the park, to this writer's eye. "This is by Kathy Caricof," Kumpuris said. "She's probably the craziest woman I've ever met," he added fondly. (Kathleen Caricof also designed the "Stars and Stripes" stainless steel sculpture in front of War Memorial Stadium, a work that the Roy and Christine Sturgis Foundation commissioned for $500,000 and which Kumpuris said gave engineers fits to construct.)

One small sculpture depicts attenuated dancers with their hair on fire (Wayne Salge's "Sizzling Sisters") and another tiny work of reclining zaftig siblings (Adam Schultz's "Sisters") — are "crazy pieces," Kumpuris said, meant to bring a smile as much as a chance to appreciate art.

The Vogel garden extension, which Kumpuris said should be complete by July, will feature flagstone paths and river rock beds meant to suggest water. A large sculpture by Jane DeDecker of children walking across a log will be placed atop boulders straddling the gravel; a crane operator worked with city employees a couple of weeks ago to position the sculpture, "Shortcut." While all the sculpture is bought by the nonprofit or donated, the city is doing all the landscaping. "We couldn't do it without city labor," Kumpuris said.

The first acquisitions for the riverfront were installed in 2004 along the park path that connects it to the Clinton Presidential Center grounds and on President Clinton Avenue. Kumpuris and others who worked to convince Bill Clinton to choose Little Rock for his library told him they would improve the park if he'd locate the library there.

"We needed to start doing something" in the park, which he described as just "big, sloping hills" at the time. "They're going to think, 'What the hell is over there?' " Kumpuris said.

"So people met on the third floor of the River Market. We said, 'Here are some sculptures we think we can put in that will make us look like we have some idea of what we're doing here.' ... We bought $300,000 to $400,000 worth of sculpture in two weeks," Kumpuris said.

Those first buys were Sandy Scott's "Presidential Eagle" (donated by Jennings Osborne) and "River Market Pig" (donated by Dean Kumpuris and the parks department); Carol Gold's "Fiesta" (donated by Dean and Drew Kumpuris, Bobby Tucker and his brother, Rett, and Wally Allen); and DeDecker's "Harriet Tubman" (donated by Peggy and Haskell Dickinson); "Anglers" (a gift of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, Cynthia and Bob East, Richard L. Mays Sr., Richard L. Mays Jr., Gregory Mays, Bruce Moore, Darren Peters and Darrin Williams); and "Touch the Sky" (donated by the late Bill Clark in honor of his grandchildren).

All the artists are members of the National Sculpture Guild associated with Columbine Gallery in Loveland, Colo. Kumpuris got to know gallery owner John Kinkade when he sought a memorial sculpture for his daughter, Anne, who died tragically in a train accident in Egypt in 1997, to be placed at Kumpuris' church.

The selection of out-of-state artists, which has continued, prompted some grumbling among Arkansas sculptors and others, including this writer. The Sculpture at the River Market nonprofit, which recently hosted its 11th show and sale in the River Market pavilions, used Kinkade as a paid consultant at one time, so it seemed to local artists that they weren't considered good enough by the nonprofit's sculpture committee. In 2009, the Arkansas Sculptors Guild set up a competing show and sale the same weekend of the Sculpture in the River Market show, purposely timed as a "heads-up competition," organizer David Harris said, to put the works of talented Arkansans on exhibit.

But Kumpuris said that NSG membership is not a requirement, and notes that Sculpture at the River Market has invited non-NSG members to submit work to the jurying committee for the show, and has selected several such sculptors. In 2010, the nonprofit, which collects a commission on sales at the annual event and proceeds from a ticketed preview, started buying works by Arkansas artists; now sculptors Kevin Kresse, Michael Warrick, Bryan Massey Sr. and Shelley Buonaiuto are represented there. Missing from the park: Robyn Horn, Pat Musick, Margaret Warren, Stephen Driver, John Ellis, Susan Williams, David and Bre Harris, Terry and Maritza Bean, Harry Loucks, Tod Swiecichowski ... . (Kumpuris said he'd reached out to Fayetteville sculptor Hank Kaminsky, asking him to submit work, but was turned down.)

The Times has been critical of certain works in the park, particularly "Native Knowledge," which features three mounted stone bas reliefs of Native Americans and is positioned at the Junction Bridge, where the Quapaw Line begins. Denny Haskew's sculpture is a tribute to the Quapaw, and Kumpuris said the artist consulted with the tribe for the symbols carved into the back of the stones. But an identical sculpture by Haskew is in front of the Barona Resort and Casino in San Diego, where it was said to be dedicated to the elders of the Barona Tribe, and yet another is located at a golf course.

Still, if the Quapaw are happy with "Native Knowledge," who are others to quibble about its inconstant fealty?

In fact, now that the park is full of sculpture and landscaping that appropriately sets it off, it seems petty to carp about the work. It is public art, and almost by definition that means there's never consensus about which of it is good and which is not.

Jane Rogers, president of Sculpture in the River Market Inc., said around 400 artists are invited every year to submit art to the selection committee of 23, which meets on a Sunday afternoon to see the work and hear Kumpuris talk about each artist. She said the committee tries to keep the number of artists who will appear to under 50.

For seven years, the group has awarded a $60,000 commission to one artist in the show. This year, Stephen Schactman of Colorado (but not an NSG member) won the commission for "The Arkansas A," a monolithic stylized A that will be installed at the new Southwest Little Rock Community Center.

Though it seems the sculpture in the park has reached a critical mass, Rogers said the sculpture committee's job is not done. She was mildly receptive to the idea of holding back on granting commissions for a few years so the group would have enough money to buy a work by a big-name artist that might bring people to Little Rock. OK, maybe not a multimillion-dollar Claes Oldenburg "Clothespin" or a Jeff Koons stainless steel balloon dog, but it would only take a couple of years to buy, for example, a George Segal (depending on the work).

But for now, Rogers said, the committee intends to fill in a few gaps in the park and keep buying for the rest of the city, like those placed at the Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport, along Chenal Parkway, at the community center and War Memorial Park, in front of the Robinson Center and on Main Street.

Rogers said people do sometimes complain about certain sculptures to her, "and that's OK." But most people "see value in what we are doing: making Little Rock a better place to live. It's been proven that a city with public art is a city that cares about itself."

Late last week, Carla Wilkins of Little Rock and friends were photographing "The Ties that Bind," a sculpture of a man tying a little boy's shoe, located in a shady spot just west of the splash pad. Wilkins brought family and friends to see the sculpture.

The Saturday previous, Kumpuris had pointed to "The Ties that Bind" and said, "This is how things happen in Little Rock."

In 2012, Kumpuris related, Dale Nicholson donated the funds to buy the sculpture "Patty Cake," of a woman and child playing the game, in memory of his late wife, Patty. When Nicholson died the following year, Sculpture at the River Market Inc. bought "The Ties that Bind" to memorialize Nicholson and created a minigarden, with a retaining wall, paving and picnic tables. Kumpuris said the garden needed a little girl sculpture, and so the nonprofit added "Hulahoop" in 2014, in what is now named the Dale Nicholson Sculpture Plaza. All the work is by DeDecker.

Wilkins, sporting a sleeveless T-shirt declaring "Too Busy Being Awesome," continued down the path to Kevin Kresse's "Breaking the Cycle," a sculpture of a man being pushed in a wheelbarrow by a young boy. On our tour, Kumpuris had said Kresse would be shocked "by the number of people who come and take a picture" by "Breaking the Cycle." And there were Wilkins and friends, having their picture made around the sculpture.

***

People may differ in their taste in art, but all agree that the Peabody Park Splash Pad, just west of the Junction Bridge, is a super addition to the park. The splash pad, where water shoots up in various patterns, is surrounded by native rocks for climbing and rubberized landing areas, tunnels and slides. To one side is a bowl-like grassy area. A pavilion overlooks the splash pad. The water draining from the splash pad has been directed under the walkway and to the river's bank, where it flows through a swampy area of cypress and bog plants and sweet spire to a waterfall. The play area, to which Peabody Hotel Group chairman Marty Belz donated $250,000, is a far cry from the splintery pirate ship set on hot sand that once stood there.

Now, kids squeal as they splash, families picnic in a shady area up the hill and people stroll through the park and around the Marriott, and there is sculpture punctuating the way.

Some of it is whimsical, like the monocle-sporting and bumbershoot-carrying turkey "Lord Featherwick" by Herb Mignery, who did cowboy art for most of his long career but who Kumpuris said turned to quirky stuff in his 80s. Mignery also did "Ellwood," a weasel in overalls, just up the path from the turkey. Both are just under 4 feet tall. There is figurative work of both humans and animals, like "Breaking the Cycle" and Pati Stajcar's "Vixen." There are stylized human images, like Collen Nyanhongo's "Resting Angel," the face of an African woman. "Some of the work is hard-edge conceptual work, like Ted Schaal's "Open Window," a large work east of the Junction Bridge that features a huge half rectangle balanced on a small ball atop a mirror image of the rectangle above.

Some of this writer's favorite sculptures: "Ghost at the River," a carved, abstracted bison detailed with skeletal figures donated by the Rev. Dr. Christoph Keller III and his wife; Dale Rogers' "Retro Trees," Corten and stainless steel with an Adolph Gottlieb/1950s look; DeDecker's "Patty Cake," the face of the mother reminiscent of the mother's in Picasso's "Mother and Child"; Leslie Lehr Daly's "Camdeboo," a fantasy animal with horns like tree limbs emerging from a cone-shaped head; Kevin Box's origami horses and paper airplanes in painted steel. Dee Clements' "Cat Tails" and her cranes, "Birds of Happiness," are perfect outdoor garden pieces.

Mark Leichliter's 14-foot painted work in steel, "Together," is the right scale to signal the entrance to the western part of the park and adds a bright splash of color to the splash pad area by which it stands. Timothy Nimmo's "Autumn Winds" is lovely (but is one of those small pieces that the artist likely envisioned as an indoor work). Sandy Scott's pelican, "Las Brisas," which was hidden by plant growth at the William Clark Wetlands on the Clinton Presidential Park grounds, is better placed in the new Vogel Schwartz area. Like "Together," Caricof's "Infinity," a 10-foot-tall abstraction of looping steel, is monumental, announcing to visitors that this long ribbon of a park is a place for art.

East of the Vogel Schwartz garden expansion, a portion of Riverfront Park lies under the Main Street Bridge. It's always cool there, Kumpuris said, and the bridge's supports create a nice visual as they diminish in the distance across the river. He wants seats on the slope under the bridge and lighting placed on the underside of the bridge to add to the view and create a feeling of safety. That means that one day there will be seats on the slope under the bridge and lighting placed on the underside of the bridge to add to the view and create a feeling of safety.

The city parks department has drawn up plans for a new children's play area past the hotel (Kumpuris has put the finger on someone for this, no doubt), in a neglected plaza now filled with leaves. Its outdoor musical instruments — drums and vibraphones and bells — sit forlorn on a concrete pad. A mosaic of the Riverfest logo on one wall reminds visitors of the area's earlier uses. There was once a "splash pad" here, as well, but it was merely a shallow fountain-like area that Kumpuris said wasn't connected to water. "When they wanted to fill it, they took a fire hose," Kumpuris said.

Kumpuris has his eye on more development along the riverfront, on the spit of sand and jungle just east of the Clinton pedestrian bridge over the Arkansas. A bridge has been built to the island, but it is locked while plans are made to develop the island. Kumpuris is already bushwhacking there, cutting a path through the wetland's equisetum and vines and cottonwoods. He sees children fishing from its sandy banks, making their way to the other end of the island that Kumpuris said opens up "like a cathedral."

"It will be a treasure once we get it figured out. Someone will think this is crazy, but if you want to see what life looks like ... this is Arkansas."

Returning to the River Market area and his weed-killing, Kumpuris observed, "We'll never be Crystal Bridges," referring to Alice Walton's grand Bentonville museum, where sculptures by famed artists dot the 100-acre grounds. "But we've got museums that are real quality" and Riverfront Park, with cool river breezes, splashing water and sculpture along its length, enough that visitors might stay awhile.

Forever, sculpture

#Forever #sculpture

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