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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

And the Walls Kept Tumbling Down

Prompts: Trust and Breakdown

Word Count: 3,706

Characters: Pixal and Lloyd

Timeline: right before season 8

Trigger Warnings: Mental Breakdown/Panic Attack, Lack of Self-Worth

Summary: Pixal has been Samurai X for awhile, now- a role that allows her to be herself, to be happy. But it’s also... incredibly lonely. Luckily, she’s not the only one alone- Lloyd has been left in the city while his friends go after Master Wu, and his presence is comforting. But as they struggle with a mysterious biker gang, Pixal can’t help feeling the want to be part of something more.

Link to read on FanFiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13897921/1/And-the-Walls-Kept-Tumbling-Down

“Master Lloyd, maybe you should go get that checked at the hospital.”

“Pix, I’m fine, it’s just a scratch,” Lloyd mumbled through the gauze as he snapped it with his teeth, winding the last several inches around his forearm. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why? You are our master now, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorted, tentatively testing his arm as he moved it back and forth. “I’m no master. I can’t even keep our team together.”

Pixal stared at him, shocked. “We all agreed on this, Lloyd. It is the most efficient plan to find Master Wu.”

“Yeah, and whose plan was that?” Lloyd’s voice was suddenly sharp.

“I believe it was Zane’s, but-”

“Exactly! It was Zane’s plan, not mine. I did nothing. And now, they’re off searching for Master Wu, and I’m sitting here, doing nothing.”

An unfamiliar sensation squeezed at Pixal’s chest, one that felt hot and fierce and miserable all at the same time, before she had to remind herself that no, she didn’t have a body, didn’t have a chest to feel pain in, and that she was just speaking to Lloyd over the monitors.

At least, in the moment, she was.

“Zane trusted me to watch over this city,” she insisted, her voice unstable- which it shouldn’t be, she was a nindroid, not affected by such things- “He trusted us.”

Lloyd flinched visibly, looking away from the computer they were using to talk. “Pix, I didn’t mean- look, I’m sure Zane much would’ve rather had you come along with him, but instead you got stuck babysitting me.”

“Normally, I would object, but I think you’ve already proven your own point,” she commented, shooting a pointed glare at his bandaged arm.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, letting out a slow breath. “I get it, Pixal, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“A doctor’s visit couldn’t hurt, Lloyd.”

“Will you drop it already?”

She frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t grow cross with me, Master Lloyd. I am only trying to look out for you-”

Lloyd stood up sharply. “I get it, okay? I’m incompetant. You don’t need to keep calling me ‘master’ out of pity, I know I’ll never be able to live up to my unc- Master Wu.”

Pixal blinked at him, stunned. “Lloyd, I never-”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” And then he was reaching forward, slamming down the laptop’s lid, and Pixal’s world went dark.

He knew how much she hated that, when he turned her off or walked away without her consent, like she was some sort of object.

He hadn’t meant it- she had learned a lot about Lloyd in their past year alone together, and he often became impulsive when he was angry in order to cover up his sensitive, insecure side. It would probably only be a matter of hours before he came running back, apologizing repeatedly, and sobbing over what a horrible friend he was as Pixal patiently waited for him to calm down. But she had grown to like and respect Lloyd, and it still stung when he snapped at her, even though the logical part of her mind knew that it wasn’t really her that was the problem.

What bothered her even more so, though, was the things he said about himself. It had been abrupt, this time, but she hadn’t missed the times he had slipped it in more subtly into conversation. It made her angry, how he refused to appreciate himself.

And now, stuck in this stupid form, she couldn’t go after him.

Well. Technically, she could.

The Samurai X suit had been up and operational for a few months since her last major upgrade- the one that had finally given her her own, independent body, separate from just the mech itself.

But she was nervous to remove herself from the computer entirely. She was aware that she was so incredibly useful as a program, with instant access to all sorts of technology and data. She had become an asset to her team.

She liked feeling important, feeling like she was part of the group.

But being the samurai allowed her to physically be there. In these last few months, she felt like she had really grown to know and trust Lloyd- even if he didn’t know it was her beneath the samurai mask. She wanted to get to know the others fully, too- she was already fairly close to Zane, but she liked the rest of the team, too- Cole, Jay, Kai, and especially Nya, Pixal felt intrigued by. She had spent some time connecting similarities between them- there were a lot of differences, too, but she felt like they could be friends. A physical form would allow her to bond with them, like a human. She was well aware she wasn’t one, but she wanted to understand.

But she was afraid, too. Except for Zane, and maybe Lloyd, now, seeing the others again felt daunting. They had never been particularly close before she had been scrapped. What if they thought she was infringing on their team? The six of them had been close for so long. It would make sense if she wasn’t wanted there.

She just wasn’t ready, not yet. Communicating with Lloyd through the monitors would just have to do for now. It was difficult, though- it didn’t seem like he took her as seriously this way.

For now, though, they had bigger problems. Lloyd’s injury hadn’t been too severe, from what she could tell, and would heal quickly. But it had been a sizable wound, and could leave some pretty severe scarring, if he wasn’t careful with it- she knew he wouldn’t be, which was why she had to keep him in line- but the point was, these were no common thieves going around, dealing this kind of damage. This gang- whoever they were- were something bigger, more dangerous than their day-to-day threats. Pixal wasn’t sure if it was severe enough to start calling the others back- she didn’t want to interrupt their search for Master Wu. But she would certainly have to keep a closer eye on Lloyd from now on, to make sure he didn’t get in over his head.

She should probably start playing a more active role as Samurai X. Although the ninja had a tentative relationship with her mysterious persona, she wasn’t about to send Lloyd against this gang alone again.

She just hoped he would have her.

---

The next call came in much sooner than Pixal had anticipated. At the unappealing hour of four in the morning, Lloyd hauled himself out of bed and stumbled drearily out the door at Pixal’s report of a prison breach alarm coming from Kryptarium. With the rush, there was no time to talk to him, and the drive to the prison was awkward and silent.

When they arrived, it turned out the alarm had been triggered by accident. The good news was there were no criminals to stop, the bad news was that they had woken up at four am for no reason.

Not that Pixal particularly minded- sleep was inconsequential to a nindroid, but Lloyd was less than pleased.

“I mean, if you’re going to have an alarm system that immediately pages the city’s ninja team and makes them stop everything they’re doing to rush over there, it should at least be heavily guarded. How do you even accidentally set off an emergency alarm? I thought these guys were supposed to be professionals!”

Pixal stifled a laugh as he paused, taking a sip of the iced coffee he had picked up as they had headed back. He had told her, “If I’m already up and ready, I might as well spend some time in the city for a little while. Y’know, in case they trigger any other ‘alarms’ that I need to go rushing off to.”

“Perhaps they need a lesson from the ninja,” Pixal suggested.

“I’ll say,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how this city ever survived before we showed up.”

“Well, experience is the best teacher, and you guys have triggered enough traps and alarms to last a lifetime.”

“Wait, what?” Lloyd spluttered. “No, we haven’t! We’re highly trained ninja, we’re better than that.”

“Oh, really? I seem to remember quite a few in the Tournament of Elements, or the time with the technoblades, or when General Cryptor tracked you- shall I go on?”

“Shut up,” Lloyd snorted, trying to hide his grin. “You don’t know nothin’.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I was only with you for a short time before I was uploaded into Zane’s head, and after that, my view of your adventures was extremely limited. I can’t imagine how much more trouble you got into when I wasn’t there.”

“I hate you,” he said, attempting to scowl and failing miserably, the look on his face was too comedic for Pixal to bite back her laugh this time. It wasn’t long before Lloyd joined her, and soon, he was bent over, clutching his stomach, and he had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. Pixal felt warm inside as she watched him take a long sip from his coffee. She enjoyed seeing him like this. He had been far too tense over the last few weeks, and she missed the more childlike, carefree side of him.

After a moment, though, the expression on his face fell solemn, and he turned to the tablet they were using to communicate to look her directly in the eyes. “Pix, I’m really sorry for yelling at you last night. I was being a brat.”

She paused carefully, both relieved and nervous that they were finally addressing this. “Lloyd, I know you were hurting. I am only trying to look out for you.”

He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I know, I need to work harder-”

“Lloyd,” she interrupted firmly. “That’s the other thing. I need you to stop saying things like that about yourself.”

He cocked his head at her. “Like what?”

Good grief, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “Talking down on yourself. I called you ‘master’ because that’s what you are now. You’ve earned this title, Lloyd. Just like you’ve earned everything else in your life, and more. It was not my intention to say you would take your uncle’s place, but say that you can be just as great of a leader as he was.”

Lloyd suddenly found the cracks in the concrete to be very interesting. “See, people keep saying that, but- it’s just so hard. I feel like I always mess everything up. Something always goes wrong, or worse, someone gets hurt-”

“Lloyd, you’re one person. You can’t expect to be successful all the time. You may be a ninja, yes, but your job is very difficult and dangerous, something most people wouldn’t even dream of tackling. You’re part of a team for a reason, and I’m sorry they’re not here right now, but until they return, you’re going to have to give yourself a little credit.”

Lloyd’s breathing hitched, and he scrubbed at his suspiciously wet eyes. His next words were so quiet, Pixal could barely hear them. “I just miss them. Everyone… everyone always leaves, and I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

Pixal was struggling to breathe herself- even though she was a nindroid, didn’t need to breathe- the sensation was still there.

She could remember when she had been alone too. Those nights after Zane had… had died, had been some of the worst times of her life. The emptiness had only made it sting worse, but when Lloyd had reached out to her, she had refused him.

She had been scared, scared to let anyone else into her life in case she lost them too, but now she realized that he had been hurting just as much as she had. She knew his friends had gone off on their own like she had, leaving him just as alone as the rest of them. She had been the cause of that, she had only hurt him more when he was already going through so much.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t just for the situation at present.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at the screen, his watery green eyes staring into hers, then raised an arm, his fingers ghosting the screen, before falling back to his side. He looked away, swallowing.

“What is it?”

“I just… I wish I could hug you. I wish you were here. Like, actually.”

“I am much more useful in the computer, Lloyd.”

“Yeah, but you’re not… you’re not here. I don’t care about how useful you are.”

Pixal let out a trembling breath, but Lloyd hardly seemed to notice, already beginning to stand up. “Sorry about being such a downer. I better get back to the Bounty, I’m sure the police have something for me to do.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just… they’ll be back soon. I know they aren’t like… other people. They’re going to come back. And besides, until then, I’ve got you, right?” He gave her a shy smile.

Pixal froze. This was it. He was extending- a metaphorical- hand to her. Offering her to be part of something that she had been wanting for a long time.

But it felt wrong. She wasn’t a ninja. She wasn’t one of his teammates. What if she was assuming wrong? What if he wasn’t really asking that?

“I’m not one of the ninja, Lloyd. I can’t help you the way they can.”

“No, you’re whoever you want to be, Pix. But you’re still my friend.”

Friend. Pixal felt a sudden urge to correct him, to tell him he was mistaken. “I’m not part of your team. I… I can’t be.”

“Trust me, Pix- in every sense that matters- you are one of us.”

---

“Pixal, I need my car! Now!”

The nindroid’s voice came out slightly crackly from the radio. “Your coordinates, Master Lloyd?”

“I’m somewhere around… well, you know how to find me.”

The cable he was gripping onto slowed to a stop, then quickly began to swing back down. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lloyd prayed that Pixal knew what she was doing, and let go.

Air whipped past him as he fell freely, the fall feeling both agonizingly slow and alarmingly quick at the same time, but before he had time to question what the hell he was doing, a blur of green darted out from a nearby alleyway, and Lloyd fell into his car.

He quickly pulled himself up and took over the controls. “Impeccable timing, Pix! You’re getting good at that.”

“I have to do something while you’re busy fighting crime, don’t I?”

“Speaking of which…” Lloyd cut off, gritting his teeth as he wove in between cars on the busy street, chasing after the biker. “Who is this person? Anything you can tell me about them?”

“They appear to be affiliated with the same criminal biker gang we have been having trouble with over the last few weeks. I am afraid I cannot tell you anything other than that. They have been keeping a very low profile.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re good. I’ll keep you posted.” Gritting his teeth, he pushed on the gas and shot through the streets after the mysterious biker. They were a skilled driver, but Lloyd wasn’t lacking in that department either, and soon, he had caught up to the biker. The person’s eyes glowed an eerie red through their mask, their expression emotionless, and Lloyd forced his gaze away for a moment to examine the object in the back of his bike- presumably the stolen item. It was a red mask, with an ugly, beast-like face patterned over the top, complete with a mouth of crooked, yellowing teeth, and deep, glowering eyes. It looked like nothing more than a costume. Lloyd wondered what they could possibly want with it.

Putting on another burst of speed, he pulled in front of the biker, making them screech to a halt to avoid a collision. The two of them stared each other down, only a short stretch of road between them.

The criminal revved his engine, and suddenly, was racing towards Lloyd. Lloyd began to do the same, and just when he thought the biker was about to hit him head-on, mechanical arms extended from the bike, driving into the road, and sending the biker flying over his head. Lloyd slammed to a halt and jumped out of the car, running over to the bridge as the biker went over the edge. He yanked something near his chest, and all of a sudden, a big sheet was billowing out from his back, gray and black and red-

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat as the parachute unfolded fully, revealing the emblem of a face that Lloyd had never thought he would see again.

No, no, no. Lloyd stumbled back from the railing, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried desperately to draw it in. This doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps they just are a fan of Garmadon, it doesn’t mean he’s here-

But it wasn’t working. His body just wasn’t listening to him, his heart beating too fast, his breath trembling and shallow, and his head-

“Lloyd!” A voice came from seemingly out of nowhere, and in his panicked state, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd, it’s Pixal. What’s happened, why aren’t you responding?”

Oh. It was Pixal, on… on the radio. With trembling fingers, he reached down and switched on his mic. “...Pix?”

“Lloyd, don’t scare me like that, what’s wrong?”

“Pixal… Pixal, I don’t know…” Oh gosh, he was spiraling, spiraling hard, panic swamped his brain as images of his father flashed before his eyes, first running off with the golden weapons, then trying to kill him when the Overlord had taken over, then when he had submerged under the ocean, down, down, down with the Preeminent-

No! Lloyd’s eyes snapped open, scattering the images. He couldn’t be thinking about this now, not- not when-

Oh gosh. His father couldn’t be involved with this gang, he couldn’t. He was gone, gone for good. He missed him, so, so much, but nothing with his father was ever that simple. Something always went wrong, and Lloyd was just beginning to get over his last death, he couldn’t- couldn’t live through the pain again-

“Lloyd, Lloyd listen to me, just try to breathe-”

He could barely hear her. His legs had stopped working, and he sunk to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to remember to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from lack of oxygen.

He buried his face between his knees, gulping through the sobs. Dammit, why was he like this, he hadn’t had an episode this bad since Morro-

And now he was thinking about that part of his life, one he had so desperately hoped to forget- it had been years, why was still not over that, he had gotten good at suppressing those feelings long ago, but when he got like this, he couldn’t control anything-

He hated when he got like this, it was so terrifying, he just wanted to go home, he just wanted Kai to be here, why was he always all alone-

Suddenly, firm, cool arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. Lloyd gasped, his eyes flying open sharply.

A pair of glowing green eyes stared back at him, shadowed with fear. “Hey,” she whispered, her metallic jaw moving with the words, “I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”

He had lost it, he was hallucinating, how was- how was she here-

“Pixal?!”

“Yeah,” her voice was quiet, rubbing her fingers across his palm. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“How?”

“I’m Samurai X, Lloyd.”

“Oh.” Vaguely, a part of his mind told him he should be more surprised by that piece of information, but he was just tired. His mind was already on overdrive, he couldn’t afford to take in anything else.

“Lloyd.” Pixal’s voice was scared, and he realized he was trembling in her grip. “Please, what has happened to you?”

“It’s- it’s…” Lloyd gasped for breath. “My dad, he- the biker, he was- he had-” and those words alone were too much. Everything was breaking, splintering apart right in front of his eyes, and he clutched onto Pixal like she was his lifeline- in a way, she was. She felt different from Kai’s warm, soft touch- harder and cooler- but sturdier and stronger, too. And right now, Lloyd could use a bit of strength.

But most of all, she was here.

“Why did you tell me?” He managed to get out. “Out of everyone, you told me first? Not Zane?”

Pixal was silent for a moment. “I know what it’s like. I mean, not exactly- I can’t feel what you are feeling right now. But… feeling emotions has been hard. Draining. You, out of all people, seem to know that. But you’re still so strong through everything. I just… you helped me to see how to heal. How to get better.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “But I guess it doesn’t always work out that way. I figured it was about time I helped you back.”

He leaned his head into her lap, examining her long, silver fingers, brushing them gently. “I like you like this. You’re pretty.”

He wasn’t looking at her face, but he could almost feel her smile. “Thank you. I worked hard to make this. I wanted to make sure… that I was better, this time. I still have some modifications to make, but…”

Lloyd winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I made you show me before you were ready.”

“Lloyd,” she said firmly. “This was my choice. Not yours.” She took one hand and turned his chin so their gazes met, green on green. “I trust you. I always have.”

Lloyd felt his lip tremble. “I-”

Pixal stopped him. “It’s okay, Lloyd. You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Lloyd curled into her side and wept.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #ninjago lloyd #ninjago pixal #hope you guys enjoyed!#this was really fun to write #i finished it in like three days wow look at me actually being productive for once #but yeah pixal is underrated and i needed to be sure to add her at least once into this found family event #because she's just as much a part of the team as any of them ❤

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aeori-o · 4 years

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So long 2019!

I usually try and get these up December 31st not January 1st but, really, it’s 24 hours apart, does it really matter?

End of a year! And end of a decade!

I usually go over my yearly reading first. I wanted to get the “bad” out of the way first this time. This year I continued to stagnate creatively. I haven’t drawn anything since Qelvi back in January of 2018. I have written but mostly in role-plays with Vin and the other stuff I haven’t tracked very well. I don’t know how to track it in a way that’s clear and also easy to remember.

In the past my goals going into the new year have always been along the line of “do a little of [thing] every day” and that is super not working for me. So this year I’m going to try and change it up. For writing all I want to do is a five minute, free-flow, unplanned just-put-pen-to-paper-and-write based off a prompt. That should be do-able as there’s no pressure of it having to be connected to a larger work. There’s no planning and thus no pressure except to take five minutes and do it. I think in the past I’ve tried to do that in addition to x amount of words or pages per day. I’m just gonna scale it back and see if I can get myself to do the bare minimum consistently and see where that goes.

As for drawing. Ideally I’d like to do a little bit every day so I can actually get better at it, but as that’s been my goal for the last several years and I have not done it even a little bit these past two years I’m going to change my goals for drawing up, as well. Instead of trying to do anything consistently I’m just going to make it my goal to do one drawing a month. That’s it. I don’t need to show it to anyone, or post it, or whatever. Just one drawing I can consider “complete” every month. Complete doesn’t need to be polished I just don’t want to do nothing again and this seems do-able. We’ll see how it turns out at the end of the year.

Reading! My goal was to read 100 books this year and then I got sucked into playing Fortnite halfway through the year and basically read nothing in May. I read as much as I did last year, so I’m not torn up about the amount I read, but just once I do want to read 100 books in a year. (Not counting graphic novels, because I read through them too quickly and it doesn’t feel the same as reading a novel). So next year will be attempt number 2 at reading 100 in a year because I don’t think I should give up after not meeting it once. Life happens, sometimes we play more video games than we should, I still read 78-book-books and 63 graphic novels. For a total of 141 books. Which is pretty good, I can’t be upset at that number.

Part of my goal for 100 books this year, too, will be to slim down my at-home to-be-read pile, which is currently taking up seven shelves and must be stopped. I say this but I already have five more books on hold at the library. Whoops.

Here’s everything I read this year that I inputted into goodreads:

My one hour a day reading calendar (this year I started trying to add dots for every book completed on the day of completion, but I think I missed days, gonna do that some more this year, too, I like it):

And my goodreads badge:

2019 was a pretty wild year, there were some unexpected and costly hiccups. One of my cats went missing for a week; the other got struvite crystals and his bladder nearly exploded; My ancient AV receiver kicked it and on top of those things being expensive there was a whole thing where the new one seemed to be messing up my TV, it was a time; I got rear-ended on the freeway which thankfully didn’t wind up costing me anything except for a lot of stress, some minor pain, and over two weeks without a vehicle. None of these turned out to be that bad, in the end, and thankfully spread out enough that I didn’t just expire from stress.

There was a lot of good this year, too. I got to bring my partner skiing for the first time ever, and for my first time in a very long time (I don’t know when the last time I went skiing was, back when I was in highschool maybe?). I expanded my plushie collection by A Lot this year. I have cute eevee plushes, and some really soft pillow plushes now, and beeb got me a little corsola who I would Die for.

I’ve been more involved with pokemon go. I technically found the group I play with at the end of 2018 (right at the end, it was in December during the community weekend and someone from the group saw me doing circles hitting the same pokestops over and over and was like “hey… wanna join our group?”), but 2019 was the first full year with them. It’s been really nice to reliably be able to get stronger/rarer pokemon and just have a general sense of community. It’s neat because it’s not like I’m close friends with any of these people, but they’re all good people and I like seeing them. I know virtually nothing about any of them, but still, it’s nice.

I also got super into stickers this year (I blame you, beeb) and since my laptop only has so much room I’ve taken to adding stickers to my car. I don’t want to go overboard but I love all the ones I’ve added so far and now that my bumper looks better than new I think my car looks pretty slick.

I started keeping a video-game journal at the beginning of this year, which has been really satisfying and I’m going to keep doing it. I always struggle to remember how much time I sink into games and what happens in this games. Being able to flip through and see all of what I played, when I played it, and what was going on is interesting.

Also got a new phone this year. I didn’t get the latest and greatest but usually when I’ve needed a new phone due to a previous one being busted I have found myself inheriting whatever phone someone else doesn’t want (for the most part). This is the first phone I’ve gone out of my way to get because mine was just not performing well and I have no regrets.

I have a huge issue with upgrading to a new device when my old ones are perfectly serviceable. For instance: the computer I am writing this on is twelve years old. It’s slow but it works for what I need. This computer isn’t even from the past decade, which is pretty wild to me. In thinking about the past decade this computer has been through it all with me.

I guess I’m moving onto the decade now. I was just thinking that this computer still has msn/wlm on it. There’s a dedicated button on my keyboard for it. I hit it and I can see the last icon I ever used on there (I used to change icons constantly, which is a thing I do not do anywhere anymore), as well as the theme I had in place. Absolutely wild. In the last decade(ish) we all abandoned msn/wlm, got skype, abandoned skype when it became a bloated, ad-filled disaster, and got onto telegram, discord, and the dms of various social media websites. (Which I suck at using as if I’m a person three times my age.) In 2010 we were on the iPhone 4 and basically every android sucked, now we’re on the iPhone 11 and androids are a viable option for a phone. Console generations are slower and mess with my perception of time. In the last decade we’ve only gone up one console generation which feels weirdly slow but then when I contemplate any company releasing a new console I inevitably feel it hasn’t been nearly long enough.

On a more personal note, I definitely cannot remember even most of the things that have happened in the last decade. I know I’ve read about five hundred books (closer to six hundred including graphic novels) because I’ve been tracking that since 2011. I’ve been tracking what I read for about a decade.

Left is books by year, middle is graphic novels by year, and right is the total of both.

I became decent at excel in the past few years. I went from not understanding this program at all to trying to find excuses to use it. I used to track all my reading in a notepad document, it looked like this:

As you can see: I only switched over in 2017. And it used to be a total pain because I would have to count all of the dates by hand. Hope I didn’t miscount. Then I’d be looking at my goodreads count and trying to figure out if that made sense against my personal count because I also didn’t count graphic novels as book-books back then and would sometimes mark them on goodreads. So I’d have to figure out how many I had inputted to goodreads to then make sure the two counts reconciled. It was a total nightmare. Now the computer counts for me.

And the reason I even became interested in excel is because of DnD which I have also gotten into in the last decade. It’s one of those things I had always been interested in but had no way to play or had false starts. A group came together a few years ago and we did some of the most fun, fulfilling, and emotional group-role-playing I have ever experienced. Our group has kind of disbanded now, and I’m trying to work on a campaign myself, but our first campaign is definitely one of the things I really cherish from the past few years. It’s definitely a highlight of the decade.

Speaking of meaningful role-plays. I got with my partner in the last decade, too. I’d feel weird getting all gushy about them here, but we’ve been doing written role-plays since before we figured out that we were a thing. They’re a constant source of inspiration to me and the things we create together are some of my favourite things in the world. At times there have been lulls between the things we make that really grab both of us, but this past year we started an AU of some of our characters and I think it’s safe to say we’re both in love with our little creation. Roach Squad is definitely the highlight of 2019 and I suspect it will continue to be the highlight of 2020. I don’t think we’ll be as aggressively into them by the time 2030 rolls around, but our original boys have persisted for the better part of the last decade (the Boys have been a thing since 2013 and we are still enjoying them, so I don’t doubt Roach Squad will persist, as well, but I imagine the next decade will give us a third group that we’re consumed with).

I’ve lost some friends in the past decade, and made some new, but find I don’t have the time to stay caught up with as many people as I used to. That used to be a thing I was good at. Toward the beginning of this decade, I’d regularly keep-up with at least a dozen people (by which I mean: talking to them daily). Now that number is at… maybe three or four people who I interact with daily (not counting group chats of which there is one). But if you’re reading this and we haven’t spoken in a while (“a while” could be years, honestly) and nothing really happened we just sort of stopped talking or hanging out: I still care about you. I hope your 2019 was more good than bad and that you have nice things to look back on in the last decade. Also hit me up, if you want to.

Overall I think the last decade has been pretty good. I’m thankful for all the good times with friends I’ve been able to have, all the sushi eaten and talks on long car rides. I’m thankful for the help I’ve gotten with housing and car situations that would have been outrageously stressful if I’d been dealing with them on my own. I’m thankful for all the creative people I’ve been able to meet and interact with, all the character ideas and moments we’ve shared through written role-plays, tabletop role-plays, and art.

I hope the next decade can be as socially and creatively fulfilling as the last!

And at the end here, because I never do this and then I always look back and go “what even were my goals” I’m going to make a handy list of goals-discussed:

Draw one thing a month

Write for five minutes every day from an unplanned prompt

Read 100 books and continue with my one hour a day reading

Get my DnD campaign off the ground and keep it going (I don’t think I explicitly mentioned this above, but it’s a goal this year)

#new year get better do better

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obligatorykoreablog · 6 years

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Storms and Sentries: Crossing the English Channel

Sometimes a place just won’t let you go.

The Route Since Last Time: Bruges, Belgium - Dunkirk, France - Dover, England

Countries Visited: 7

Total Distance: 2,291km / 1,423 miles

Total Ascent: 13,118 meters / 43,038 feet

There were so many bonds that I had to sever, and that had to be severed for me, before I moved from America to Korea. And when I decided to strike out from Busan two years later–to the far ends of India and Indonesia and dozens of destinations between, to wander until I stumbled onto my next path in life–a new teaching opportunity reeled me back to Korea for an additional three years. But not before visa issues nearly marooned me Stateside. Even this last January, when I loaded up my bike and started pedaling to the bus that was to start me on my way out of Korea, a bike malfunction, ice-covered trails, and a run-in with a troop of Korean soldiers–who were marching in drill formation down the trail that led to the station–all nearly conspired to make me miss my bus.

Mainland Europe didn’t want to let me go, either. Clear of the canyons of Luxembourg and the rolling landscape of southern Belgium, I thought it would be a straight shot to Dunkirk, France, where I planned to catch a ferry to England. And for a couple of hours it was. The terrain was finally flat, running between rows of trees along a low-lying canal. The sun cast the horizon in a golden glow.

But then the rain started. And soon it became a downpour. Even though I was clad in rain gear, water started to drain in under the tops of my boot covers and down into my shoes, down my chin and beneath my waterproof layers to my chest. As I pressed on, the wind ripped open the zippers on the sides of my poncho. Its flaps lashed my back. I weaved between flocks of sheep idling in the cycleway.

A woman smoking a cigarette under the overhang of a roadside apartment complex advised me to backtrack to a tram station on the coast. But I couldn’t understand her instructions, and I couldn’t locate the station on my phone. Finding it would probably necessitate more wandering than it was worth, and besides, there were only 25 miles to go. I was determined to cycle every inch of my route.

Signs for the port started to appear. Two miles to go. The wind kicked into high gear. My hands had long since gone numb. With my head down, I fought for each pedal stroke.

I pulled into the ferry ticket office, overjoyed that I’d made it. The attendant asked if I wanted to upgrade to the VIP lounge for something like 15 bucks. After that shitshow, I thought, why not? I was ready to kick back and warm up. I swiped my card and scrawled my signature onto the receipt with my red, swollen hands.

And then the attendant directed me back outside.

“Just present your ticket at that booth.“ He pointed at some obscure point down the road leading to the coast. “But you need to go now, if you want to catch the 6pm.”

Though all of the ferry signs showed entry for bicycles and pedestrians, the port was really only designed for car traffic. I fought my way to a checkpoint along the roadside and presented my drenched ticket. The attendant waved me on to passport control a little further down the road.

The immigration officer there was an Englishwoman, probably not much older than me.

“Where and when did you enter Europe?” she asked.

“At Barcelona, on February 28th,” I said.

“And what have you been doing here?”

“Cycling across Europe, on my way to see friends in Birmingham.” The wind was flinging droplets of stinging rain onto my arms and face.

“You’ve cycled all this way?” She gave me a look of disbelief that I’d grown used to, even become proud of, in interactions with people I’d met along the trail. I smiled and nodded. She craned her neck to peer out at my bike. “How long do you intend to stay in Birmingham?”

“A couple of weeks,” I said.

“Do you have a ticket out?”

I hesitated. I knew my answer wouldn’t win me any points. “Not yet. I’ve had to keep my schedule kind of flexible. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get here.”

“Don’t you need to get back for work?”

“Well, I’ve been teaching in Korea for the last 5 years, and I just finished that job and won’t start graduate school until August.” The wind kept whipping my poncho into my face. My teeth were starting to chatter.

“How long have you known this friend in Birmingham?”

“We actually taught with the same program in Korea, so about 5 years.”

“Do you have a home to return to in the States?”

“When I get back I’ll stay with my parents for a bit before I get my new living situation settled near my university.”

“And which university is that?”

“University of Colorado.”

“Do you have an acceptance email or something that I could see to verify your enrollment?”

I flipped through my phone and found it, then handed it over to her, compliantly, promptly. I’d never been questioned so much at a passport control. Not in Asia, even in countries with stringent visa application processes like Russia and India. And certainly not in mainland Europe, where so far the borders had been void of any checkpoint at all. But I was providing honest, verifiable answers to her questions, and I’d read that my U.S. passport guaranteed me a tourist visa in the U.K. I stayed calm.

She scanned the email for a couple of seconds and handed the phone back to me.

“So far you haven’t told me what I want to hear,” she said.

My gut dropped.

“You don’t have a date of exit from the U.K. You don’t have a job. You don’t have a home to go back to. You’re traveling by bicycle, which is extremely unusual. Nothing you’re telling me is concrete.”

“I understand,” I said. The smile washed off my face. The wind was howling.

“I’m going to stamp your passport with a date by which you must leave the country, and if you overstay that date, there will be penalties. But before I do that, we need to fill out some paperwork with details of your stay. What’s your friend’s address?”

My stomach sank deeper. “I actually don’t have his address.”

“You don’t have his address?”

“No,” I said. I searched for something I could offer up. “I have the address of the hostel where I’m staying tonight, but I don’t have his address.”

“How were you going to get to his house?”

“Well, I knew it was going to take about a week to cycle up to him. So at this point I was just going to head in the general direction of Birmingham and ask for his address when I got closer.”

“When was the last time you were in contact with him?”

“A day or two ago.”

“A phone number, then.”

“Sure,” I said, unlocking my phone once more. But I already knew I didn’t have it. I paused for a second before looking up in defeat. “So, I know this is terrible, but we only communicate via a chat app that we used when we were in Korea, even for voice calls. So I don’t have his phone number.” I scrambled to the bright side before she could reply. “But I can call him on the app, right now, and we can get all the information we need.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” she said, “because this is getting worse and worse.”

I shuffled to the side of the booth where I could get some relief from the howling wind and called my friend, praying he’d pick up. Which he did, after only a few rings. I rushed the phone back to the immigration officer and then returned to the side of the booth while they chatted, hopping around to try to get warm, my teeth chattering more and more violently. After a couple of minutes she called me back over.

“Your friend has verified what you’ve told me,“ she said, “so I’m going to stamp your passport for entry.” Her expression softened, just a bit. “I hope the weather clears up for you. I’m sorry to give you such a hard time. It’s just that nothing you’ve told me is concrete.”

Those words, which she repeated again and again over the course of our 15-minute exchange (which felt more like an hour), played on a loop in my head as the ferry carried me across the choppy channel. In the weeks since my graduate school path became clear, I’d been inwardly rejoicing that I’d finally found a practical outlet for my creative impulses. That I was going to rejoin life in the States, but outside of the corporate strictures that had driven me to flee home in the first place.

But there I’d stood, on the threshold of the next phase of my journey, an entire continent closer to my next major undertaking in life, and the gatekeeper had nearly denied me entry on the flimsiness of those very strides.

Still, after all that trouble, she stamped my passport for the standard six-month tourist visa, well beyond the few weeks I told her I wanted or needed.

As the ferry neared England, the white cliffs of Dover jutted up from the churning ocean. For the first time I understood how such a small, isolated country could have been such a domineering global force for so many centuries. The weather and the landscape were impenetrable. Unforgiving. I cycled off the ferry and over to my hostel, just a mile or so down the street. It lay down a dark alleyway. After the heavy rains, dampness hung in the dorm. I fell into a deep sleep.

The next day the sun was out. I hiked to the ends of the trails atop the cliffs of Dover and looked out across the channel. In the distance, I could see the coast of mainland Europe, after all just a faint line behind me.

#bike touring #travel #cycling #Europe #England #dover

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maxwellyjordan · 5 years

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A “view” from the courtroom: A few more words

Another month, another blockbuster argument in the Supreme Court. Last month it was whether Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits employment discrimination based on sexual orientation and transgender status. Today, it is the Trump administration’s efforts to rescind the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, known as DACA.

We may yet have a similar blockbuster for each of the remaining five sittings of the court this term.

Senator Durbin and Janet Napolitano in courtroom for DACA argument (Art Lien)

In the front row of the public gallery, Sen. Richard Durbin of Illinois, the Democratic whip in the Senate, has taken a seat minutes after appearing on CNN to call President Donald Trump’s efforts to rescind DACA “cruel.”

Behind Durbin sit five of the six DACA recipients who are named plaintiffs in the McAleenan v. Vidal case out of New York City, one of several consolidated cases before the justices today. Some of their lawyers in the bar section tell me that respondents Martin Jonathan Batalla Vidal, Antonio Alarcon, Eliana Fernandez, Carlos Vargas and Carolina Fung Feng are in that row.

One row behind them is Janet Napolitano, who was secretary of the Department of Homeland Security under President Barack Obama and who signed the memorandum that put DACA into effect. Now she is president of the University of California system, which is a plaintiff in one of the challenges to the Trump administration’s action to end DACA and the lead respondent here.

On the other side of the aisle, both figuratively and literally, is Ken Cuccinelli, the Republican former attorney general of Virginia and the acting director of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, which is part of DHS. He is sitting in the middle section of the public gallery, while Durbin and Napolitano are in the section on the south side.

There are surely more so-called Dreamers here, including some who spent a long time waiting in the public line. And for the first time, there is a DACA recipient sitting at the counsel table.

As CNN Supreme Court reporter Ariane de Vogue noted over the weekend, Luis Cortes, a 31-year-old graduate of the University of Idaho College of Law who came with his parents to the United States from Mexico when he was one year old, is joining Theodore Olson at the table. Cortes became something of an expert in immigration law after his father was deported to Mexico, and he was in law school when DACA came into effect and allowed him the ability to get work as a lawyer.

When U.S. Solicitor General Noel Francisco arrives in the courtroom, he greets the opposing counsel, as is customary, including Olson, Cortes and Michael Mongan, the solicitor general of California, who will split the argument time with Olson on the respondents’ side.

As 10 o’clock nears, Joanna Breyer, the wife of Justice Stephen Breyer, and Ashley Kavanaugh, the wife of Justice Brett Kavanaugh, take their reserved seats in the VIP section.

Meanwhile, Josh Blackman of South Texas College of Law, a frequent commentator on the court, arrives just after the justices take the bench but while bar admissions are ongoing. He showed up at the court at about 3 a.m. but was initially relegated to the lawyers’ lounge, where bar members may listen to live audio of the arguments. He is upgraded to the last row of the bar section just before the arguments begin.

Amy Howe has this blog’s main report of the argument in Department of Homeland Security v. Regents of the University of California, which was alternately focused on the administrative-law wrinkles in the case and more sweeping sentiments about immigration law and policy.

Breyer engages Francisco at one point about “reliance interests,” not just for the estimated 700,000 recipients of DACA but also for countless groups and organizations that have filed amicus briefs on their side — although “countless” is not quite the word because Breyer and/or his law clerks have counted them.

“I counted briefs in this court, as I’m sure you have, which state different kinds of reliance interests” Breyer tells the solicitor general. “There are 66 healthcare organizations. There are three labor unions. There are 210 educational associations. There are six military organizations. There are three home builders, five states plus those involved, 108, I think, municipalities and cities, 129 religious organizations, and 145 businesses.”

Francisco patiently waits for a chance to dive in to answer a trademark lengthy Breyer question, interrupting the justice by muttering “Right” and “Uh-huh.” Finally he gets to answer, responding that then-Secretary of Homeland Security Kirstjen Nielsen, the author of one of the two key decision memos at issue, “explicitly considered the reliance interests, including all of the things that you just listed that were set forth in excruciating detail in the numerous district court decisions that have ruled against us.”

Francisco has a harder time interjecting an answer during a lengthy question — some might call it a speech — by Justice Sonia Sotomayor.

“I’ve always had some difficulty in understanding what’s wrong with an agency saying, we’re going to prioritize our removals, and for those people, like the DACA people who haven’t committed crimes, who are lawfully employed, who are paying taxes, who pose no threat to our security, and there’s a whole list of prerequisites, we’re not going to exercise our limited resources to try to get rid of those people,” she says. “I know you’re going to argue contrary to what I just said.”

Francisco is chomping at the bit to do so. “So I guess I have three responses, your Honor.”

But Sotomayor is not finished. “All right,” she says. “But let me just finish my question.”

She continues to talk about the Trump administration memos and reliance interests, concluding, “I think my colleagues have rightly pointed there’s a whole lot of reliance interests that weren’t looked at, including the … current president telling DACA-eligible people that they were safe under him and that he would find a way to keep them here. And so he hasn’t and, instead, he’s done this. And that, I think, has something to be considered before you rescind a policy.”

“Putting all of that aside, I’m going to get to my question,” Sotomayor adds, to laughter.

Chief Justice John Roberts interjects: “And maybe we’d have an opportunity to hear the three answers.” Sotomayor wraps up by asking where “is all of this really considered and weighed?”

Francisco says, “So, your Honor, four answers now. I think I’ve added one.”

He starts with a reference to Obama, and just as Sotomayor has declined to mention Trump by name, Francisco does the same with Trump’s predecessor.

“I think that the prior president didn’t, couldn’t, and hasn’t made any kind of promise that DACA would remain in effect in perpetuity because it would have been impossible to make that promise,” Francisco says. “In fact, every one of my friends on the other side, I think, has agreed that we could rescind DACA at any time if, at least in their view, we did provide a little bit more detailed of an explanation.”

“[A]ll that they seem to be saying is we have to write a few more words,” he says.

Arguing for the challengers, Olson and Mongan faced their own difficulties, including questions about whether the action is reviewable at all, a raft of thorny administrative law questions and suggestions from some justices that the Nielsen memorandum may have offered valid rationales for winding down DACA.

“What good would another five years of litigation over the adequacy of that explanation [in the Nielsen memorandum] serve?” asks Justice Neil Gorsuch.

Olson pivots toward a recent decision written by the member of the court who may hold the cards in this case, the chief justice.

“What they could have said is that we understand all of these people, working for all these people, we understand what people are going through, provide a reason[ed], rational explanation, to use the words of this court just a few months ago in the Census case, to explain those things, to explain why a policy is being changed and make a contemporaneous decision.”

After 80 minutes of argument, and more than a few words, the case is submitted.

The post A “view” from the courtroom: A few more words appeared first on SCOTUSblog.

from Law https://www.scotusblog.com/2019/11/a-view-from-the-courtroom-a-few-more-words/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

#law #justice

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olivereliott · 6 years

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The Archduke: Analog builds the ultimate KTM Super Duke

You’d be surprised at how many custom motorcycle builders ride ‘regular’ bikes day-to-day. Tony Prust over at Analog Motorcycles has an affinity for KTMs; he’s owned several over the years, and they’ve all been mostly stock.

“I have always wanted to build a custom KTM,” says Tony, “but never had the opportunity, since my customers haven’t requested one as a donor bike, or it wouldn’t fit the design request. Granted I could have probably customized one I’ve owned, but I usually keep them somewhat unmolested and just focus on riding them as much as possible.”

One of Tony’s favorites was a 2007 model 990 Super Duke. “I made brackets for luggage for it and racked up 20,000 miles over five or six years,” he says. “I rode it long distance and around town. It was my daily rider. Perfect seating position, great handing, and plenty of power.”

Tony eventually sold the 990 and bought a newer 1290 Super Duke—but couldn’t shake the feeling that the 990 had potential as a donor. Thankfully the opportunity eventually presented itself, via a repeat client: Rebel Yell Bourbon, a company that Analog has already built two giveaway bikes for.

“The parent company of Rebel Yell is Luxco,” explains Tony, “and the owner’s son Andrew is an avid motorcycle enthusiast. Andrew contacted me when we started last year’s build for Rebel Yell, and asked if I would be interested in building a custom motorcycle for him personally.”

“He rides a Ducati Monster 796 but wanted something with a little more power—and he wanted a sort of cafe racer aesthetic, with a more powerful machine. I thought ‘bingo, this is my chance to build the custom Super Duke I wanted to do’.”

With a suitable donor (another 2007 Super Duke) sourced and on the bench in the Illinois shop, it was time to tick another box—because Tony’s slowly been learning the art of metal shaping. He used to farm out metal shaping tasks on his builds, but he’s gradually started turning out smaller parts himself—like fenders or side covers.

For the KTM, he set out to shape all the bodywork himself—which would mean building his first fuel tank. So the subframe, tank, tail section, fly screen, front fender, belly pan, and even a radiator reservoir cover, were all built in-house using aluminum.

“I had a mentor coming in regularly and helping me learn this art form,” says Tony. “He was an incredibly knowledgeable mentor but passed away unexpectedly nearly a year ago. It took the wind out of my sails for a few months when that happened.”

“But what I learned from him, no one can take from me—and finishing up this bike is a personal achievement.”

The new shapes have given the Super Duke a radically different silhouette—but that’s only half the picture. Analog made a slew of smaller changes too, to help tie the build together.

For the exhaust, they added a custom-made connection just after the stock headers’ two-into-one joint, flowing into a stainless steel Cone Engineering muffler. And they installed a Moto Hooligan intake kit to help the KTM breathe better.

Moving to the cockpit, the stock bars were swapped out for a set of Vortex clip-ons, and the OEM speedo relocated with a one-off bracket. The headlight’s a Denali Electronics M7 DOT LED unit, mounted up inside a traditional bucket on custom mounts.

For the taillight, Analog mounted up a pair of prototype red LEDs with their existing LED turn signals, mounting them discreetly alongside the exhaust can. The front signals are bar-end numbers from Motogadget.

For switches, Analog fitted units that they import and sell, from Renard Speed Shop in Estonia. They’re bolt-ons for modern bikes that negate the need for excessive rewiring—but Analog rewired most of the bike anyway, to slim down and hide as many components as possible.

They also upgraded the clutch and brake controls to Magura HC1 radial pumps.

When it came time to paint, Tony wanted to show off some of the bare metal—and keep a little of KTM’s signature orange in the mix. So they sanded down some strategically placed panels, before Jason at Artistimo laid down a grey and orange paint scheme.

The Super Duke was stripped down, and all the important bits sent of for powder coating. The rims were torn down, and a section on each hand-sanded to match up with the bike’s livery. Dane at plz.b.seated upholstered the perch, with a mix of solid and perforated leather, and gripper vinyl.

‘The Archduke’ is now ready and poised to tear up the streets—just as soon as the snow clears in Chicagoland. “It sounds angry,” says Tony, “and I can’t wait to unleash the horses stored up in that 990cc twin.”

Analog Motorcycles | Facebook | Instagram | Photos by Grant Schwingle

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