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#home is more a person than a place

lessdenied · 2 days

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Not to wade into Discourse on main, but I've seen several posts talking about how ridiculous it is that the Watcher HQ is in LA and how expensive that is. I just want to say, as someone who works in streaming, that it would be functionally impossible for me to do my job if I moved more than about an hour from where I am now because of how often I need to do immediate in-person things now that major streamers are back in-office. Note that "more than an hour away" would still be in LA. I have a coworker who lives that far from me and spends literal hours on the road.

I cannot imagine that Watcher is any different.

#watcher #note also that I don't particularly enjoy living in LA #if I could move you bet your ass I would #and not just because it's expensive #but there are legitimately some industries where you have to Be In A Place #streaming is a labyrinth of NDAs and big egos that require in-person massaging to get anything done #more than once I have been called to a place #watched something for five minutes #and then went home #it takes me LONGER TO PARK than I am in the office at that point

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awkward-teabag · 24 days

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I have to wonder how many people celebrating AI translation also complain about "broken English" and how obvious it is something was Google translated from another language without a fluent English speaker involved to properly clean up the translation/grammar.

Because I bet it's a lot.

I know why execs are all for it—AI is the new buzzword and it lets them cut jobs thus "save" money and not have to worry about pesky labour laws when one employs humans—but everyone else?

There was some outcry when Crunchyroll fired many of their translators in favour of AI translation (with some people to "clean up the AI's work") but I can't help but think that was in part because it was Japanese-to-English and personally affected them. Same when Duolingo fired many of their translators in favour of LLM translation. Meanwhile companies are firing staff when it's English to another language and there's this idea that that's fine or not as big a deal because English is "easy" to translate and/or because people don't think of how it will impact people in non-English countries.

Also it doesn't affect native English speakers so it doesn't get much headway in the news cycle or online anyway because so much of the dominant media is from English-speaking countries and English-speakers dominate social media.

But different languages have different grammar structures that LLMs don't do, and I grew up on "jokes" about people speaking in "broken English" and mocking people who use the wrong word when it was clearly a literal translation but the meaning was obvious long before LLMs were a thing, too. In fact, the specific way a character spoke broken English has been a way to denote their native tongue for decades, usually in a racist way.

Then Google translate came out and "Google-translated English" became an insult for people and criticism of companies because it was clearly wonky to native speakers. Even now, LLMs—which are heavily trained on English compared to other languages—don't have a natural output so native English speakers can clock LLM-generated text if it's longer than a sentence or two.

But, for whatever reason, it's not seen as a problem when it goes the other way because fuck non-English readers or people who want to read in their native tongue I guess.

#and it's not like no people were doing translations so wonky translations were better than nothing #it's actual translators being fired for a subpar replacement #and anyone who keeps their job suddenly being responsible for cleaning up llm output rather than what they trained in #(which can take just as much time or longer than doing the translation by hand from scratch)#(if you want it done right anyway)#hell to this day i hear people complain about written translations of indigenous words and how they 'aren't english enough'#even though they're using the ipa and use a system white english people came up with in the first place #and you can easily look up the proper pronunciation and hear it spoken #but there's such a double-standard where it's expected that other languages cater to english/english speakers #but that grace and accommodation doesn't go the other way #and it's the failing of non-english speakers when an english translation is broken #you see it whenever monolingual english speakers travel to other countries and utterly refuse to learn the language #but if someone doesn't speak in unaccented (to them) english fluently in their home country the person 'isn't trying hard enough'#this is just the new version of that where non-english speakers are supposed to do more work and put up with subpar translations #even as a native english speaker/writer i get a (much) lesser version of this because i write with canadian spelling #and some people get pissed if their internet experience is disrupted by 'ou' instead of 'o' or '-re' instead of '-er'#because dialects and regional phrasing/spelling is a thing #human translators can (or should) be able to account for it but llms are not smart enough to do so #and that's not even getting into slang and how llms don't account for it #or how llms can put slurs into translations because it doesn't do nuance or context and doesn't know the language #if you ever complained about buying something from another country that came with machine-translated instructions #you should be pissed at companies cutting english-to-[language] staff in favour of glorified google translate #because the companies are effectively saying they're fine with non-native speakers getting a wonky/broken version

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lesbianwithchainsaws · 3 months

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One of the most frustrating things about being queer and living and growing up in a country that's not very accepting of queer people is that at some point you have to make a choice between trying to leave your country and living in one that's more accepting of you, and where you have more rights, and more of a chance of being able to openly be yourself, or stay home, the place that has your favourite food that you've loved since you were young that you can't find elsewhere, and the place where all your memories lay, and the only place you can visit your relatives that have passed and meet your friends who want to stay. I know there's ways to meet people from your home country living in other countries, but it's not really the same. I can talk to them in my native language, and we can participate in our shared culture, but I will still be walking streets foreign to me. And so I must choose whether to stay or to go elsewhere. I have to choose between acceptance and home. And I once thought that acceptance was the clear, easy winner, but now that I'm away from home, I can't even begin to describe how many things I miss about home

#and i know that maybe eventually the other place i live will start feeling like home but no matter how much time passes;#it will never be home in the same way as the home i grew up in #sorry im just really unsure of what to do. I've moved out of my home country but i find myself really missing home lately #i wish home was more accepting so I'd feel more comfortable staying there #maybe I'd still move eventually but i wish i could make that decision based on more than just wanting to feel accepted #because i think maybe i might've moved away before i was fully ready. and now I'm in a dilemma on what to do #or maybe its because its 1am and im overthinking things. idk. i just wish i could have both yknow #i hate that i cant have both #personal post

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sleepyfemme · 3 months

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my thyroid levels WERE off so i was right about it being hypothyroidism but actually me and my partner have just been staying with my mom for the past few weeks so i could get out of our horrible horrible moldy student rental that was making me sick and i feel basically completely fine now. also i started taking my vitamins again

#i’m sooooo sensitive to mold and that was the worst place i’ve ever lived #i was expecting to feel so much better when school ended last month bc i’d be lest stressed and busy #but that meant i was suddenly home wayyyyy more than i’d ever been since we moved in #and my health literally tanked so bad. i’m so relieved to be feeling better oh my god mold is no joke #personal

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crowleyaj · 4 months

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context: my main plan for 2024 in my journal was "figure out the future & what I'm going to do & where I'm going to live" thinking about summer maybe except last friday during a particularly bad work-related depressive episode I went, fuck it I'm leaving here and found a site and applied for cheap studios in cork and dublin basically in the middle of the night. when I got better I started wondering if I REALLY wanted to leave and may have acted too soon without thinking it through as usual but decided that, you know, what's meant to happen will happen.

then this morning when I was washing my breakfast dishes I dropped a bowl on top of my favourite (and very durable) glass and the glass just snapped in half. at first I was upset but then I laughed thinking, guess this means everything is going to work out and I'm moving out, thanks!! and when I got back from work I found out that not only did I get a place in dublin but my top pick at that. I cannot believe this. the fucking glass. and it was actually still stable so I glued it back together to use for a plant or something. I fixed it. I wonder what it means. anyway. looks like things will work out after all

(it's got a dragon and that's why it's my favourite. out of two. the other one I just use for measuring rice.)

#personal #sofi.txt #text #multiple thoughts in my head #if superstition then why does it work?#the funniest thing is that i overthink tiny things but make big life changing decisions on impulse but somehow they're right #it was so random too because the cork apartment (which i wanted but got declined) was available since may so that's the date i applied for #even with the others #so i'm left with may but 4 months is the perfect amount of time to find a job and still save enough money here to make the move ok #the place is basically a shed in a lady's garden the size of my current living room but it's extremely cool and has everything one needs #and more than i have here in some cases. a DESK #it doesn't look unlike my childhood dream home tbh #and. thinking of palestinians living in tents who don't even have the one room and how lucky i am to be able to have that #or leave this small town willingly for the sake of my own wellbeing and go elsewhere just like this & safe 😭#dublin has all the major events though and i feel like i can do more there and actually join ipsc (

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catsafarithewriter · 1 year

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"Can you stop implementing secret rooms in my house?" You will do something brilliant with this, I just know it!

A/N: Okay, so I promise this prompt, uh, prompted this ficlet, but it went off the rails. If you were hoping for humour, sorry! I humbly offer you heartfelt sincerity instead! Have a ficlet about Baron’s early years in the Sanctuary! <3

"I know of a place," the crow gargoyle had told him. "It's not a home but it's safe. It's a refuge for Creations."

At first he stays because it's safe.

Beyond the Sanctuary lies a world torn apart by war. A treaty may have been signed, but the echoes of the conflict linger in poverty, and hunger, and mourning, and he finds he can help only so much from the confines of his creation.

He is nothing but a figurine, after all.

The Sanctuary is quiet. Empty. As he had been promised, it is a refuge, not a home. The little Creation world lines up a sea of houses which go vacant, and he chooses a simple workshop build with an eerily familiar shop front.

And so he retreats into that world, at least until the drone of planes and the stench of grief are almost forgotten, he promises himself.

And then he stays because he has nowhere else to go.

"I will make my way there eventually," says the gargoyle who tells him of the Sanctuary. The other Creation gestures to the remnants of the cathedral which had once been his perch. "But first I must see my people safe."

Baron has no people. He left behind his world – one of magic and mystery – in search of his lost soulmate, and instead found himself in a place plagued by destruction. He has had no time to form the familial bonds which tie others of his kind to this world.

Other Creations come and go through the Sanctuary, but none stay. Why would they, when they have homes or roots or people to return to?

It's not their fault he does not.

"The war must have driven many Creations to seek a refuge," the gargoyle Creation remarks when he finally makes his way to the Sanctuary. He has given his name as Toto, and there is less of the gargoyle about him than Baron remembers. Baron wonders how long it has been since the war ended. "Whenever I've dropped by, this place has been almost always empty."

Baron does not speak of the keening loneliness which has kindled within him, nor the surreptious timing of so many Creations finding their way to the Sanctuary's threshold. It has been a kindness, even if the ever-turning carasol of new faces is only a skin-deep balm.

And then he stays because maybe she will hear of the Sanctuary.

He has no other word for what Baroness Louise von Gikkingen is to him, other than soulmate. It is perhaps more literal than how most take it; they both were formed from the same soul of the same artisan, and were never meant to be apart.

She still exists – he'd feel it if she had been utterly lost – but the connection is faint, and he fears he could search a new world every day and never find her.

(He voices his grief for his missing half only once, but does not miss the portrait that appears on his mantelpiece the following day. Neither does he ask how the Sanctuary knows her face, and yet cannot find her.)

And then he stays because he is comfortable.

"I've never known a Creation to visit here for so long," Toto says in his next flying visit. He has almost entirely shed his gargoyle origins now, bearing more resemblance to a common corvid than the creature of tooth and talon he'd been carved as. Baron, meanwhile, has changed little in the intervening years, save for some alterations to his colour palette.

He has had no need to change.

"Where else would I go?" Baron asks. He opens a cupboard door and gathers up a bag of tea leaves. He's never gone shopping, but the Sanctuary never seems to run empty.

"I've heard of you in my travels," Toto says. "The Cat Creation who helped so many."

"I tried," Baron corrects.

"I would have thought you'd have grown bored by now," the crow continues.

Baron pauses, his hands curling around the kettle which never needs filling. "It would be... inauthentic to say I have not thought about it," he says. "Life is consistent here, unchanging. It was a relief when I first arrived, but sometimes I do miss the unpredictability of the outside world."

"Perhaps it's time to leave."

Baron smiles, and sets to making his tea. "I will think on it."

The next day, he selects a book off a shelf, and a hidden door slides open.

The door is new.

The book is not.

The passageway leads deeper into the Sanctuary, to a room impossible by human physics but unrestrained by the Sanctuary's magic. Bay windows look out onto a sea of stars, galaxies swirling like whirlpools across the expanse. And for the first time in too long, Baron feels life return to his old wooden heart.

It's the first secret room he discovers, but is far from the last.

He knows the cupboard under the sink wasn't always a tunnel, nor the western window a portal or the mirror a doorway, and at first it is a delight. His world, so safe and secure, now has surprises. Secrets.

Discoveries.

And so he stays because he is curious.

"You're looking better than my last visit," Toto remarks. He's added some light to his form, now bearing the marks of a magpie, and it feels like a pointed move away from his gargoyle origins. "Brighter. More awake."

"I was not aware I was so lacking during our last meeting."

Toto shuffles his wings. "Not lacking, but... sedate," he settles on. "Last time, it felt as though life had ceased to surprise you, and you are too young a Creation to feel that already."

Baron opens a cupboard. It's filled with jam jars. He tries it again, and this time he finds the tea leaves he is looking for. "Did you only come here to share judgement on my life choices, or can I offer you a spot of tea?"

"I came because I found her."

Baron drops the tea leaves. The cupboard door slams shut of its own accord.

"Her?"

"I found a trail," Toto clarifies. "A man who had once been engaged to a woman who had once had the Baroness in her possession."

It's a lot of loose connections, but it's the first breadcrumb he's found in decades. Baron feels his lungs go tight, his heart constrained by an unfamiliar tendril of hope. "Show me."

Toto nods and nudges open the doors, but instead of the Sanctuary courtyard, they are met with a corridor, old and dusty.

"Uh, Baron – is that normal?"

Not now.

Not like this.

Baron doesn't reply. Instead he shuts the double doors, counts to ten, and opens them again.

This time it's a different corridor, one marked with elaborately carved sconces lighting up a polished marble floor.

Again, and it's a tunnel, roughly hewn from rock that shouldn't be there.

Another try, and it's a hall of mirrors.

Baron stares at the infinite reflections, all staring back, and wonders when his fur had so dulled. In this light it's almost grey.

He shuts the doors once more.

"Baron...?"

"A moment, Toto." He sets his forehead against the grained wooden lines of the door. He notes the pine scent, and realises it's been too long since he breathed in air not saturated with Sanctuary magic. "Old friend," he murmurs, "you have been nothing but good to me, but I need you now to stop implementing secret rooms in my house. I need you," he says, "to let me go."

The door shivers.

"She is my soulmate. She is all I have left of my old world, my old life," he says. "Let me go to her now."

The door shivers again.

And then it clicks open.

Not onto the Sanctuary courtyard, but to a simple street. To the Human World.

And so he leaves.

The man whom Toto had talked about owns a humble antique store and so it is easy enough to blend in. Despite the Human World being less believing of the supernatural than Baron remembers, the man seems to take the talking figurine in his stride, and shares all he knows of his once-fiancee. Separated by the same war that Baron discovered this world in, the man can point him in no direction, but offer him a place to stay in hopes that one day that will change.

And so he stays.

The Human World has changed since he last retreated from it. The war still bears its marks on the older generation, but the children speak of futures untainted by conflict. The man's grandson wishes to craft violins, and the kids in the street take time to pet the stray cat on the shop's doorstep.

And then the girl arrives.

She is lost in more ways than one, but carries a curiosity that he recognises. She is young, burdened by that weight that all youth feel in that they must know their life's course or else flounder, and so he reaches out. He tells her a story – his story – and she discovers a passion in writing.

He helps.

And he succeeds.

It is not long after that that the antique shop's owner tells him he's tracked down a clue to his lost fiancee. Baron bids his farewell to the man and, with the unexpected aid of a stray cat, sets out to find his soulmate.

He does the unimaginable.

He finds her.

She has changed since they last saw each other – not so much in looks (her dress is different, and her hat has changed, but her fur is the same snow-white as before) – but in personality. She is bolder than he remembered; she stands taller, surer, and there is a cocky, reckless sort of grjn that he is sure their artisan never carved. She has discarded her Baroness title for all but the rare moment, instead going by Louise to those who know her now.

She pulls him into a tight embrace and tells him all about her missing years. About the adventure, and danger, and the worlds she has seen.

"Did you never look for me?" Baron asks.

She breaks the embrace and, oh, how he has almost forgotten those sapphire-blue eyes. "Of course I looked, Humbert. I found my way back to our artisan, but he said you had gone. So I came back, but this world is so large and we are so small..." He sees the glimmer of something akin to guilt. "Eventually I decided to live my life."

To move on, is the unspoken addition, but Baron can't even find it in himself to be hurt. Sedate, Toto had called him, but now he wonders if faded would have been truer. He looks to Louise and sees that she is more alive than he has been for decades.

"But we're found each other now!" Louise declares. "We can travel the worlds and see everything there is to see – together! Oh, there are worlds with waterfalls of diamonds, and flying whales, and – oh, so many people! There's so much to learn!"

"That sounds... wonderful."

His soulmate fixes him with a steely look. "But?"

But he thinks of the schoolgirl with her passion for writing, and the sense that he was finally helping someone again.

Oh, how he had missed that.

"But I think that we have different paths to happiness," he says. "I think I may have just realised what I want to do with my life."

"And it's not gallivanting off through other worlds, is it?" Louise asks softly.

"It's not." He smiles. "But I think our paths will cross nonetheless."

He returns to the Sanctuary with purpose, and it responds in kind. Alongside the stray cat who had helped him find Louise, he sets up the Cat Bureau in a little cottage-like house which bears striking resemblance to the old antique shop. The Sanctuary finds those who need the help of a cat Creation, ushering them into its world, until the Bureau garners enough of a reputation that clients find their own way there.

"So you're staying for good this time?" Toto asks. He's returned to a full black plumage, and his feathers shimmer with an iridescent gleam.

"I believe so." Baron regards his friend. "What's this? No recommendations to venture further afield this time?"

Toto casts a beady eye over the Bureau, and then Baron, both sure in purpose. "No. Finally. You're not running away from something, but to it instead."

"There's always room for another member in the Bureau, you know."

Toto smiles. "I'll think on it."

And Baron stays because he is home.

A/N: This whole ficlet started because I looked at that prompt and thought “what if the Sanctuary tried to cater to Baron’s personality and installed hidden rooms to keep him entertained” and then snowballed rapidly into “the Sanctuary is so used to being only a stopping point for Creations, never a home, that when Baron stays longer than usual it becomes attached to him and tries to tempt him to stay permanently by always giving him exactly what it thinks he needs/will make him stay.”

#the cat returns #cat writes #tcr ficlet #also whoopsies this became 2K words #I get very attached to stories where you have two hurting individuals healing with the help of each other #and also I just really like the idea of houses wanting to be homes #the Sanctuary not even realising it was missing being a home until Baron accidentally showed it was an option #look I have a weird amount of feelings for a place that is really just a setting in the film #it has a personality now #and feeling #also toto constantly just looking at this disaster of a cat creation and being like #oh dear. I somehow feel responsible for this mess #also also dropping in my personal headcanon that toto was originally a bird like gargoyle #and after the war wanted peace and quiet #so his appearance changed to something more mundane and less scary #toto choosing to look after those around him with kindness rather than physical strength #it's important to me that after everything toto was able to choose to be soft #despite his original build

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