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blakbonnet · 19 days

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Artist of the Week!

So last weekend, I announced that I'd like to feature an artist every weekend for both new fandom joinees who might not have seen some of this art and older fans who like the nostalgia. This week's artist is Ash @aha-my-villainous-thoughts 💖 who also, wonderful that they are, agreed to answer a few questions for me!

Which App Do You Use To Draw When I’m at my big set up I use Clip Studio Paint, I love it so much. It’s very straight forward to dip straight in, has all of the bells and whistles you need from an elite drawing program, and the community elements where you can see assets and brushes is a lot of fun - although I still to this day have no idea how to earn coins to buy assets?! I use a XPPen Artist 15.6 Pro Graphics Tablet to draw into the program, although my best tip with graphics tablets is to get a screen protector, mine got covered in marks before I noticed. Recently I also got an iPad 10.9 to use as a digital sketchbook I can carry around, and while I am enjoying Procreate, I think CSP is a better art program overall.

Fave Brushes? On iPad I stick to the technical pen, studio pen and the soft airbrush, along with the textures and the light pen. I don’t think Procreate has great ‘painting’ brushes, whereas on CSP I would marry the Gouache brushes, I love how they blend and texture as you work.

Your favourite piece you’ve drawn? I’m a super self indulgent artist, I try to draw the kind of stuff I like to look at, so it’s a lot of colour, a lot of fabric and details. My fave piece for detail is the one I did for the OFMD RBB last year - Crescente Devotione, there’s a blushing sentient stool in it! For colour I’m in love with this sleepy time Ed in a lil negligee and a Holly Golightly eyemask, he's my lock screen because I'm trash.

Who harder to draw: Ed or Stede? Oh for sure Stede. I love Rhys Darby, but the man has like no lips. I stand by this meltdown.

One essential tip for beginner artists? Comparison is the thief of joy, don’t measure yourself against others - particularly when you’re finding your groove. Be self indulgent af. Also get a screen protector for whatever digital screen you draw on, and BACK. THINGS. UP. Whether in an online account, or on an external harddrive - or both?! BACK THAT SHIT UP.

Why OFMD? I’ve been in a few fandoms in the past, always as a pretty passive enjoyer, little fanart here or there, little fanfic sprinkled around, but there’s just something about the way this fandom feels? It feels like a group of friends who’ve got their own lives and their goals, but they still exist in each other's orbit, it’s like this feeling of returning home to somewhere you’re always welcome. There’s so many good moments in the show for both comedy and some gut wrenching pathos. Sign up for the hot guy in leather and get got by this beautiful delicate little love story. It’s something about queer joy of thriving, not just surviving. Something about finding love and romance no matter your age or what’s past before. Something about found family, and unlikely friendships, and community and silliness. I was already a goner when Taika put on the wig, but then when he teared up in a blanket fort while trying not to die? Excuse me sir, I did not need feelings that powerful. It was literally waking me up at night thinking about his last shot weeping in the nook - like are you kidding me?! I’m supposed to finish watching and be normal after that??

#artist of the week #everyone go follow ash and gear up for all the amazing art that would now be posted heheh

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recurring-polynya · 2 years

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Does Byakuya ever take a day off? I can imagine him taking one day off to see how Renji handles the squad while he's away lol

I guess there's no citation on this, but the Bleach wiki's descriptions for the role of captains and vice-captains rings pretty true to me, based on my reading of the source material and my own work experiences:

[Captains] function as Chief executive officers, and they determine the course, organization, tactics, and policy of their division.

Lieutenants function as executive officers for their division, taking care of or supervising day-to-day operations. [...] In the case of a division captain's death, departure, or other circumstances making them unable to perform their duties, the lieutenant acts as the "substitute captain" until another can be assigned.

In other words, Renji better be able to handle the squad because that's literally what he's there for.

Captains have a lot of discretion in how they do things-- I suspect there are captains (in my mind, Kensei) who are really hands-on and like working with their troops directly. Hitsugaya does a lot of hands-on stuff, too, but it's some combination of the fact that he's kind of young and insecure in his own authority and has a lazy vice-captain. You also have captains like Kurotsuchi and Unohana who have a very specific subject-matter expertise related to the squad's specialization, so I think they function more like a primary investigator and a chief surgeon, respectively.

On the other hand, I feel like the CEO metaphor fits Byakuya and Renji's work relationship pretty well. Furthermore, there's an entire command structure under Renji, so even when the two of them get sent off on a mission together (which is obviously a thing that happens with some regularity), the place is designed to run itself without constant micromanagement.

To get to your question about does Byakuya ever take a day off: unquestionably yes.

I have worked with a lot of Important People in my time, let me tell you: they take their time off. People like you and me think about our lives in terms of "at work" and "not at work". Most of the big wigs I have known just have "their life" in which going to dinner with other big wigs and flying across the country and writing proposals or orbital analysis code in the middle of the night and showing up to morning meeting with the team are all just things they do.

I think that Byakuya tends to keep standard office hours when he doesn't have other pressing matters, but I feel like being Clan Head is like an entire second big wig job. If he has to go put on his extra fancy haori and schmooze in the middle of a weekday, he just does it. I think he also takes time off for his important hobbies, like the Orchid Show, or when he needs to go out to West Rukongai to buy a new banana koi or something and he literally does not think twice about it. It doesn't matter whether he works 40 hours a week or not, because he's very important and 1 hour of his time is worth 10 of Renji's. There are certain things only he can do and it's not like there's a line out the door of people who can make giant glittering domes of swords when some ancient eldritch entity shows up, needing to be lectured on their fatal flaw, arrogance, now is there?

There's some amount of stuff around the squad that requires Byakuya's attention, but it's usually approving things more than anything else. I think he is an enormous stickler for documentation and he actually reads everything Renji puts in front of him, but if he didn't fundamentally trust Renji to run things, he would simply fire him.

I think he hates going on vacation and frequently tells his relatives that he can't leave work, but this is a lie. He does not usually take time off for the purposes of relaxing, although I think in latter canon times, he will take a day to do something with Rukia if she asks him to. He took a lot of days off for Hisana, and does not regret any of them.

#byakuya kuchiki #renji abarai #squad 6 #one of my pet peeves in fanfic is when people write renji as lazy or bad at his job #i am telling you that byakuya will overlook a little light treason but the man will NOT put up with incompetence

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halsinthebear · 2 years

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Pls share nope theories? 🥺

I'm on mobile so formatting is going to suck BUT

also most of these have been shared/plotted/discussed with @murraybaeman so credit goes there too but I've got three major theories.

1] Amber Park

let it be known that I find Wrenn Schmidt unbelievably beautiful so jot that down. HOWEVER Amber is absolutely a foil for Em-- Em is the businesswoman while OJ does the actual work and Amber is more like Jupe's manager than his business partner. the Gordy's Home flashback implies Jupe may not have been the best actor so Amber literally dresses Jupe (well depending on how you look at it) and runs lines with him to make sure Jupe is putting on his best show.

she's even still commanding from the sidelines of the Star Lasso experience. given how Jupe says their sons are going to perform for the crowd, you wonder how much Amber (or Jupe) were trying to get their kids into Hollywood as well. also like. her husband's been feeding horses to an unknown entity and her introduction shot is her trying to sell someone on coming to the Star Lasso show.

I also loved the fantastic ginger wig they put on her just for the quick shot of the Jupiter's Orbit poster you saw in her office.

2] Angel and the tarp

this has, like, no official confirmation but it's my dumbass theory and I'm sticking to it.

while Angel tying a tarp around him with barbed wire is just clever thinking, when I saw the movie it immediately made me think of a cilice. seeing as JJ has been compared to biblical angels (also Angel...angel...get it...haha...), I thought it was interesting that Angel uses a tarp (uncomfortable material close to the body) with barbed wire securing it, because cilices were common with devout Catholics to continually moritfy their flesh in the name of holiness.

also Google tells me most modern cilices are now mostly BDSM accessories so. that was fun.

3] the Wizard of Oz

this is my most conspiracy theory theory so grain of salt here.

I am still partially convinced this movie was Jordan Peele's Wizard of Oz. but also still. grain of salt.

a) the shot of Mary Jo's during the attack is pretty similar to the framing of the Wicked Witch once Dorothy's house fell on her

b) a deleted scene has Em schmoozing on the Walk of Fame with a prominent Dorothy mannequin in frame

c) Em's name can either reference the Emerald City or Aunty Em...or both???

d) when Em falls asleep in her RV, she's watching an Oprah clip where the woman interviewed makes a joke about not being in Kansas anymore

e) Mary Jo, at the Star Lasso show, has two pins on her sweater-- a hot air balloon and an old traveling wagon. like the wagon Dorothy meets the fortune teller in and the hot air balloon that she leaves Oz in.

f) Em is the Wizard to OJ's Dorothy to Lucky's Toto to Jupe's Ms. Gulch

AAAAAAND we're done.

#nope #long post is long

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cleopatraas · 7 years

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you: vassa is white she has red hair

me, an intellectual:

i’m sorry i couldnt

hear you over the

sounds of

the sixth queen

queen vassa

the cursed firebird

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hearts-hunger · 5 years

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ksjsjkwjdjhbd my professor just emailed the class to say she knows the bookstore is out of our book and it’s officially out of print so we can’t get it on amazon and there’s only one copy in the whole university library, but the quiz on it will still be next week despite student emailing her saying they can’t get a copy of the book. she signed off with “good luck” im LITERALLY

#my wig is in orbit rn i cant #she's so horrible #she literally took time out of her day to write an email to us #that boils down to 'fuck you'#and she's old and tenured so nobody can do anything about her #im SCREAMING #maddie speaks

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surprisebitch · 6 years

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youtube

#this video and song slays me everytime. its truly in my top faves #like the visuals her crunchy vocals #that rap verses #the metamorphosis concept fitting for a butterfly #wig in orbit #go won #loona #i cant believe she literally dyed her hair for this video and the concept.. we stan a legend who dedicates her life to art

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chenbox · 6 years

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stan culture is not having even watched the performances and already reblogging posts about it bc you know it'll be good

#my wig...shes in orbit #i literally hust woke up

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

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when you come home, i’d lift you up

read on ao3

It’s dark. Eddie never really wanted to end up in the dark like this again.

It reminds him of the other times — the damp darkness of the well, the weightless black of the in-between he was stuck in after getting shot. But it’s also worse, because it’s compounded on top of those times to make it suffocating. Before, he knew there were ways out. Before, he wanted to fight, like he always did, like he promised he always would. But now, he can’t remember what’s waiting for him in the light. Faint images of glasses and curly brown hair and birthmarks and crooked smiles, but none of it enough to pull him out this time. All he knows is nothingness. It feels like all he’s ever known.

There’s a jolt, and he’s briefly brought back to his body, enough to remember the power going out, the hospital, and that he decided to take the elevator because the stairs were on the other side of the floor. It’s worse now, somehow, because the darkness is still suffocating, but now it has physical confines. Four walls, a floor, and a ceiling that can’t be pushed through with his hands or force of will. He’s not stuck, he’s trapped, and he’s sweating and his hands are shaking and he swears he hears his heartbeat echoing around him.

But his heartbeat gets louder and louder, and he realizes it’s not a heartbeat at all — it’s footsteps. Quick, heavy footsteps heading his way. They skid to a stop outside the elevator door, and a voice he’d recognize anywhere — in the blackest dark or the brightest white — carries through and lights him up, just a bit.

“Eddie? Eddie, are you in there? Are you okay?”

He swallows his panic enough to let “Buck?” fall from his lips, soft and shattered.

“I’m right here, Eds.” He shouts something else but it’s muffled, far away, like he’s projecting away from the door. “Are you hurt?”

Deep breath, focus. Take stock of yourself. He quickly scans from head to toe, flexing muscles and wigging limbs. “I’m fine. Think I twisted my ankle, but nothing’s broken.”

“Good, great, okay.” More shouting and far away footsteps. “We— we need jaws and some extra hands to get you out but they’re on their way, okay? I promise we’ll get to you soon.”

Ice crashes through him again. “Are you— can— please don’t—” The air suddenly feels too thin, too close to his skin and not enough in his lungs.

“Eds?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

He’d feel pathetic asking any other time, but they’d been in each other’s orbits more than ever the past few months, and not having Buck in his line of sight for this long is making him itchy, jittery nerves mixing with unwavering panic in an unpleasant cocktail. It had felt selfish, at first, always taking up Buck’s offers to stay over and cook and help with Chris, but the one time — the only time — he’d tried to say no, to give Buck a break, he’d looked so wrecked that it just confirmed for him that all the volunteering was as much for Buck’s sake as it was for Eddie’s.

Call it weird, call it codependent, but this is the longest they’ve been apart in months, and on top of everything else happening at the moment, Eddie’s not sure how much longer he can handle it.

Luckily, he hears the squeak of fabric against the door as, he assumes, Buck slides down to sit. “I’m not going anywhere,” Buck says, softly as he can to still be heard through the door. “I promise, I’m not gonna leave you.”

The nerves subside a fraction, only to remind Eddie that it’s still dark and he’s still trapped. He swallows and nods even though Buck can’t see him. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Buck’s radio crackles to life, probably Bobby checking in, but Eddie can’t quite make out what he’s saying. Buck's response is quiet, muffled a bit too, like he turned away from the door again so Eddie couldn’t hear. “Cap, I’d really rather stay here, if that’s okay. He needs me.”

A tangle of relief and guilt crashes through him, because he does need Buck, but he hates that needing Buck means keeping him from the job.

He must have gotten an affirmative, though, because his voice comes back to it’s normal, still muffled volume. “Okay, everyone’s on their way, just a little bit longer. How you holding up?”

“Fine,” Eddie says, cursing the tremble in his voice.

Buck definitely clocks it, too. “Eddie, come on.”

Eddie takes a breath that catches all the way in and out. “It’s dark,” he says quietly, weighed down in his throat by shame. “The emergency lights don’t work in here.”

Buck whispers something under his breath, probably a curse. There’s tapping and scraping along the door for a minute. “I can’t— there’s really nowhere for me to get light in.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, taking another, smoother breath. “I’ll be alright.”

“You will be. I’m making sure of that.” His radio crackles again, another quick, murmured conversation Eddie can’t hear. “Hey,” he says once the radio clicks off, “we’re having a day Saturday, right? Tell me the plan, what does Chris want to do?”

He’s stalling, Eddie can tell. There’s been a delay, Eddie’s going to be in this box for God knows how long, and Buck is trying to get Eddie to talk about Chris to keep him calm. He sees right through it, but he’s also immensely grateful, because really no one but Buck would try something so obvious with him and actually have it work.

“That traveling food exhibit at the science center,” he says. “Apparently they have samples of very smelly cheese he’s going to dare you to try.”

“He knows I’m always up for a challenge,” Buck says, and Eddie knows for a fact he’s smiling. “What else? Dinner?”

“That taco place off 41st, if you think you’ll be up for it.”

“No amount of bad cheese can keep me from tacos.” Buck says it so seriously it actually startles a laugh out of Eddie. Clearly, the panic hadn’t weighed everything down. Or Buck being here really was lightening the load.

“And then what? Game night? Movie night?”

“Probably both,” Eddie says, because he knows his son, and he knows he’ll figure out how to squeeze everything in. “He’s gotten really good at Clue, though, so prepare to lose.”

“As long as I get to be Professor Plum, I don’t mind.”

“And you’ll stay?” He already knows the answer — it hasn’t changed in almost six months — but he’s currently still shrouded in darkness and fear, and he just wants to know for sure.

“I’ll stay, Eds. Of course I will,” Buck says with a solemnity that might be too much for something so trivial, but it loosens the vice on Eddie’s ribs enough to breathe properly. He’s pretty sure Buck isn’t talking about just staying the night.

Before he can finish fully processing that, or the way it warms him from head to toe like he’s been injected with sunshine, there’s unfamiliar loud voices and thumps outside the door. “Okay, Eds, cavalry’s here,” Buck says. “Can you back up from the door for me? It’s gonna get loud.”

Eddie’s already sitting against the back wall, but he makes himself as flat as possible as the team starts to work. There’s sparks and screeching metal and the whole elevator box rattles so hard Eddie’s teeth knock together. The dark shifts around him, like it’s trying to swallow him whole while it still has the chance.

Finally, salvation: Eddie’s blinded momentarily by the bop-and-weave streaks from various headlights, but when his eyes adjust, Buck is there, lit from behind and reaching down to him like a literal guardian angel, his smile brighter than any man made light could even attempt to manage. Eddie returns it, and he knows it’s tired and probably a little dopey with relief, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Getting up is hard — his ankle hurts a little more than he originally thought — but he hobbles to the elevator door and takes Buck’s hand, lets himself be pulled out to safety, to light, the weight of panic finally dissolving around him. He lands on his knees and falls into Buck’s chest and doesn’t try to move, lets himself melt into Buck, his familiar warmth and scent and life. Buck melts too, arms wrapping around Eddie’s shoulders, forehead resting on the crown of his head. They stay like that, and Eddie breathes enough of Buck in that the darkness quickly feels like a distant memory, even though they’re still technically in a blackout.

“Thank you,” he whispers, arms wrapping around Buck’s waist, refusing to let go. “Not— not just for this, for everything with me and Chris and—”

“Hey, hey,” Buck breathes into Eddie’s hair, “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, as long as you need me.”

Forever. I think I need you forever.

Eddie just pulls him closer and holds on tight as the last of the dark fades from his mind.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #we're MANIFESTING #ficcery

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for2buns · 7 years

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Naruto is rly on some oroboros shit....

#i gotta go edit my facts on orochimaru bc THAT read rly took my wig into orbit #the polished cog in the machine....wow.....#hes a literal reflection of the state....im gagged.....

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pochapal · 7 years

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miss kesha rose sebert truly did #THAT !!! rainbow literally invented and saved pop music and by extension all music in general !! all other artists are quaking in their flop graves!!

#:)#kesha #wig in orbit #buy rainbow on itunes #facts only but let em talk is the feelgood jam of the century #boots invented dramatic pop #kesha singlehandedly gave birth to country music with hunt you down #boogie feet is a certified platinum banger #the vibes in bastards are literally the definition of healing #we already know that woman hymn praying and learn to let go saved the human race #finding you invented love and being in love past lives from warrior found dead in miami #old flames is the song you hear at a small country bar you're sitting in nursing a heartbreak #godzilla is simultaneously silly and deep i love it #spaceship has this dream-like vibe to it i'm living #and i had to listen to rainbow itself in instalments because i kept crying too hard to actually appreciate it #thanks kesha for my life

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westernhoodrat · 3 years

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Meet Dani

The following is an excerpt from my first book that I recently self published on amazon. If you’re interested in science fiction, adventure, or just a good story? Give it a read, let me know what you think and consider checking out The Map: Book One of the Edwina Chronicles.

Chapter 4

August 4th, 3108 AA

Olympus, Gaea (Colonial Capitol City)

The warehouse was grubby, grease-coated and run down; piles of star ship parts sat idly all about it. The lights were dim and the air was stale with the scent of old oil and a haze of drifting dust. It was like a giant mouse nest, that had been patched together out of scrap metal and broken engines. In the middle of this vast stillness, something stirred, tussling through the dust, occasionally clanging parts together and hammering on metal. Beneath the layers of scrap and decay was a small blonde girl toiling away at a fighter engine, mumbling to herself. She wore a tattered old blue mechanic’s jumper and oil-soaked leather boots. Her fingers seemed held together by various bandages and bits of gauze and they were currently clinging tightly to a hammer and pair of pliers. She had a small, but lean face with a long nose and jawline. A pair of round brass colored goggles clung tightly over her bright blue eyes. Her hair was unkempt and long, the only thing holding the thicket in place was a pair of green welding goggles and a bit of wire tying it back into a ponytail. A small patch on the right breast of her jumpsuit read “Dani.”

Dani was arguably the best mechanic ever to be dishonorably discharged from the Colonial Corps, and she had worked her whole life to be so. Her father had been a mechanic, her father’s father before him and so on for almost eight generations. But unfortunately Dani had a fondness for making unorthodox modifications to regulation equipment; one such modification had literally blown up in her face. Now, she found herself stuck in an enormous warehouse on a dead planet, trying to piece together old ships and sell scrap just to get by.

“Be an ace mechanic Dani!” she muttered to herself, mocking the advice her father had given her years before. “It’s a great career oppawtunity!” she balked in her heavy Gaean accent. She angrily ratcheted a nut on to a bolt. “This war’ll never end! Don’t you worry love! You’ll always ’ave me!” She shook the parts in her hand. “Then the old geezer goes an’ dies!” She let out a heavy sigh, looking around at the enormity of the pile around her. She was a small speck in a sea of particles and shadow, trying to swim her way out. She rubbed her forehead vigorously “You’re alright Dani, deep breafs old girl, deep breafs.”

She had been just a girl of eight when the war started. Her father was arguably the best human mechanic in the galaxy at the time, so he joined up and for nearly eight years Dani and her father “lived off the fat,” as he used to call it. But when she turned sixteen it was her turn. She was at the top of her class in basic, outpacing her fellow students by light-years. It wasn’t fair really Dani had practically grown up inside an engine block. To her it was as comforting as her mother’s womb. She had advanced to deployment nine months ahead of schedule and at his request served in her father’s division. But her father never lived to see the Colonial victory. It turned out that stomach and lung cancer were the reward for all his hard work in the war effort and for the first time that she could remember, Dani was alone. She became angry and over time her skills were overshadowed by her grief. She began to experiment and modify things out of boredom and frustration. Then one day she’d managed to modify an engine on board a frigate without the proper authorization, it had exploded, almost killing all two hundred and eighty crew members on board. They discharged her, instead of sentencing her to a penal colony, leaving her to rot on the surface of the rotting corpse of Gaea.

It had been hard at first. When she’d stepped back on the surface from Gaea’s orbital blockade she didn’t understand what had happened to humanity. Before she had gone into orbit the planet was lush and green, but when she came back, all victory had won mankind was a homeworld that couldn’t give anymore in the way of resources. Gaea had been stripped and mined and farmed to the point of exhaustion. The soil was sterile, the water was poisoned and they lived in a constant, storming, dust-ridden wasteland. But the war had been won. The soil was sterile, the water was poisoned, and humans lived in a constant, dust-ridden wasteland. But the war had been won.

There had been more people on Gaea when she’d first stepped back on the ground. Some were just trying to get by and others were eating them alive, sometimes quite literally. Roving gangs of violent, broken men, back from the farthest reaches of the galaxy had taken what they learned in war and turned on the very people they’d been fighting for. The learning curve had been steep in the beginning, but over time she’d learned that it was survival of the fittest. She hadn’t killed anyone, she didn’t want to for that matter, but she had given a number of fellows a good clout on the head with a wrench when they came around trying to take her things, steal her water or worse, she never let them though, not once. After a while the gangs in her area figured out that they better not come around the old warehouse looking for trouble, because Dani could take care of herself. After she’d established those boundaries life got a little easier. She managed to sell what little scrap she could to folks looking to patch up homes and huts after the storms, she’d rewire engines to provide heat or cold as needed. But that didn’t stop her from thinking, dreaming, hoping that some day she’d get out.

Suddenly she heard a loud crash from the far side of the hangar.

“What the ’ell was that?” she whispered as she shot up and began looking around frantically. Another clank came from her left, echoing through the large building. She grabbed her large pipe wrench and went running in the direction of the noise. She slowed her pace as she came to a corner near the building’s entrance, pressing her back to the wall, raising the wrench to her chest and gripping it tightly.

No. she thought. Not again, her heart began to race as the thought of fighting off the gangs and robbers made her fear for her life, made her wonder if they had grown bold enough to attack her again, or worse, managed to find real weapons, guns and the like. It made her wonder if today was the day they’d get her.

She gently peeked around the corner to find a heavily armed man and what appeared to be a dog with a bomb strapped to its chest.

Robbers! she thought as she bit her lip. The man was glancing around the room as the dog seemed to almost mutter at him with a series of groans and whimpers.

“It’s alright Nugget, I think the computer was right, we just need to have a look round. Try to relax.” He turned and smiled at it before it barked back at him in response. His accent was different than how any of the thieves she know spoke. He sounded like the people in the High Command, the big-wig military types who were the only ones allowed out of the muck and mire on Gaea. They lived in a great black tower complex which was guarded like a fortress and had access to what few resources were left on the doomed planet. For a split second the pair unknowingly turned their backs to her.

Alright Dani girl, ’ere’s your chance, she thought, taking a deep breath and leaping out from behind the wall, flying at the man and swinging the pipe at his head.

Quickly and without warning the man turned around, reached out and caught the wrench with a thud, just before it reached his temple. “Oh hello!” he said with a devilish smile. He ripped the wrench from her hands and pushed Dani to the ground with his boot, dropping her weapon with a dust laden thud. Dani crashed flat on her back with her legs in the air. The force of her landing made her fuzzy as she tried to draw focus back to the pair. The dog was snarling, hackles up, poised to strike. The man looked down at her in delight.

“Who the ’ell are you?!?!” Dani shouted at them.

The man placed his hand on his chest. “I am Captain Ashley Odessa Cumberge and this is Nugget.” He gestured towards the dog, who was still snarling at her, its eyes nearly popping out of its skull. “Nugget?” She looked up at him. “Heel.” He smiled at her as she immediately relaxed and moved to a seated position. He stood up straight and extended his hand to help her up. “Sorry about that, but you were about to hit me in the head with a rather large wrench.” He grinned. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s just a little rude.” Dani eyed him skeptically until she took his hand, pulling herself up.

“What do you want gov?” She shrugged at him wiping her hands on her pant legs.

“Ah! Yes, well we are looking for a mechanic.” He pulled a small, blue handkerchief from his breast pocket and offered it to her.

“Well you’ve found one.” She grimaced at him, blowing her nose with his hanky.

“Indeed.” Ash nodded. Now it appeared it was his turn for skepticism. “But we are looking for a very specific mechanic. Specialist Daniel Colbert, so if you could perhaps point us in his direction it would be much appreciated,” he finished as she handed him back his hanky. Ash stared at it for a moment in minor disgust. “Please, call it a gift.”

“Thanks,” she replied, shoving it into her pocket. “Well that’s me mate,” she said, still dusting herself off, only half paying attention to him.

Ash paused for a moment and eyeing her with a frown. “You?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” She replied looking down at Nugget. “Hi doggy!” She smiled as Nugget began to wag her tail.

“Daniel?” Ash continued his eyes glancing around.

“Yeah,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “My dad was brilliant wiv a wrench, but he couldn’t spell to save ’is life. So he wanted a Danielle, got a Daniel. But call me Dani.” She stuck her hand out to shake his. Ash shot her a fleeting, half-hearted smile before gingerly shaking hers.

“Specialist.” Despite the smile, his face went slack and his doubts about her identity floated in the air, as heavy as the dust between them.

“What’s wrong?” she scoffed at him.

“You’re a world class, ex-military mechanic?” He forced another smile as his brows drew together.

“Yeah why?” She sassily put her hands on her hips, cocking them to the right.

Ash eyed the thin, mousey girl, with the rats nest of hair on her head, long crooked nose and obnoxious demeanor. He seemed taken aback. In his experience all the top military mechanics were broad shouldered, square-chinned men and while a woman in the service wasn’t out of the ordinary, one had to be particularly well educated to work on star ships. A slight, young girl whose name wasn’t spelled correctly and who spoke in a manner consistent with that of the rabble who now inhabited what remained of Gaea didn’t seem right. Her mannerisms and appearance were slovenly and simply not in keeping with military standards.

“I apologize.” He said softly. “I believe I have made a mistake.” He turned to exit the building.

“Wait a minute!” she shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder, spinning him around and sticking her index finger in his face. “You can't just march in 'ere with this adorable little dog, ask me one stupid question an' expect to walk off without explainin' yourself!” She grabbed him by his collar. “Now what do you want fancy man?”

“My dear,” he let out a little laugh and a smile, raising his palms. “I need the best mechanic in the universe to maintain my ship. It is unlike any other that has ever traveled through space. Your name was at the top of the list when I looked through the Colonial database. But now that I’ve met you, I dare say they can’t be right. No offense.” he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling his collar out of her clutches.

“A mistake?” she said, raising both eyebrows and rocking back on her heels, crossing her arms. “Oh really? You don’t fink someone like me couldn’t be the best mechanic in the whole universe? Why? Because I’m a girl?” Dani was turning red, as she began to tap her foot.

Ash again raised his eyebrow and shrugged. “Well…,” he began to explain.

“Right well let me tell you somethin’ Cap’n Ashwin Odooly Cabbage!” she pointed her finger at him. “My father only ever taught me ‘ow to do one fing in ‘is world an’ at was ‘ow to take care of starships!” She threw her hands in the air, waving them at him. “My entire life people ’ave tried to tell me I am not who I say I am! But I swear on me father's grave an’ ’is father’s before ’im that there ain't an engine in the universe I can’t fix!” She pointed at him again as her eyes widened. “And if you fink that you can judge ’is book by its cover an' walk out without a piece of me mind you’ve got it all wrong!”

Ash stood in aghast, eyeing her for a moment. “Cumberge.” he said sharply.

“What?” she snapped at him.

“My name is Cumberge, Specialist.” He stood at attention. “What do you know about maintenance on a zero point energy engine?”

“I know ’em inside an’ out if yew really 'ave one? I heard they was too expensive to put on most military ships. Even so, we was trained at length on ’em. The principal construction is the same as a combustion, but it only works if you've got it paired wiv a jump drive an’ everyone knows they don't exist.” She calmed down as she spoke, her face turning back to the pale color it normally was, her attitude now shifting from one of anger to arrogance.

“Hmmmm…” Ash responded. “What if I told you we’ve got one?”

“Right! Now who’s tellin’ lies?” She laughed. “You’ve got a ship outfitted wiv a jump drive?” she asked skeptically.

“We do.” Ash smiled looking at Nugget.

“And I'm supposed to believe you because you’ve got all those guns an’ medals, eh?” She let out a laugh. “Besides you ain’t no captain anyway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look at that old bomber. Blue and gold ain’t the Colonial colors no more, everybody knows ‘at. They’re black an’ red now.” She turned up her lip in a sneer. “So tell me another one ‘captain’.”

“Oh yes, just as I am supposed to believe you are the best mechanic in the universe because you’re covered in dust and oil? If I’m not mistaken you’re wearing the same colors as I.”

“You’re damn right I am!” She pointed a finger at him before thumbing her chest. “An ’is is my father’s jumper you geezer so don’t you tell I’m wearing the wrong colors.”

A pause followed between them as the mood grew sullen. They eyed each other a while longer, each having just as much cause to mistrust the other. Ash looked down at Nugget, who whimpered at him. “Look I don’t know if you are who you say you are but if you can get my ship to work, I can offer you a place on board.”

“Oh yeah? What's in it for me?”

“Well I can’t promise much, nor can I guarantee your safety, but I can promise that it’s a damn sight better than this place.” He looked around at the piles of junk.

Dani paused then and thought about the years she had been there, how long it had been since she had worked aboard an actual star ship, how much she missed her father and how badly she wanted to redeem herself.

“What are you doin’ wiv the ship?” she questioned. After all, this fellow was awfully strange and seemed to appear out of no place; for all she knew it could be some sort of trap or ploy to get her out of the hangar, kill her and take her stuff, or sell her into slavery. But then she remembered that nobody had guns on Gaea, except the big wigs in the tower of course, especially ones like the one this fellow had.

Ash paused for a moment, seeming to choose his words with care. “That information my dear is on a need to know basis; however, in the very near future we are looking to acquire a very special map.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Does that suffice?”

Dani thought again for a brief moment. “Anything illegal?” she eyed him.

“Ah. Well there might be a bit of trouble involved, but nothing serious.” Ash replied looking down at his dog, who squeaked back.

Dani looked down at her dirty boots for a half second of hesitation then said. “Alright Captain. I’ll take a look at your ship, but no funny business?”

“I would never dream of it.”

“An’ first I 'ave one more question, before we go.”

“Yes?”

She pointed to Nugget. “Why do you ’ave explosives strapped to your dog?!?!” She shouted, her brow furrowing. “She’s a cute dog an’ you don’t see many of them runnin’ around now do ya?” Dani did have an affinity for cute things and this dog was the cutest thing she’d seen in years, even if it was ready to attack her.

Ash smiled. “She’s not a dog.“ He shook his head. “She’s a bomb.” He turned and began to walk away, Dani exchanged a look with the mutt who seemingly shrugged at her. “Come Nugget.” The dog followed him quickly as the two put distance between themselves and Dani.

“What?” Dani shouted, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose.

“Coming Specialist?” Ash called.

Dani looked around at the hangar one last time, with a sigh and then ran after them without the slightest notion of what was to come next.

#scifi #self publishing #fiction #write #first book #writerscorner

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cecilspeaks · 4 years

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161 - The Space Race

Space, the final frontier. The womb, the first frontier. Somewhere between those two, the ocean. Welcome to Night Vale.

I’m excited today for the annual Night Vale Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation. Yess, that’s right! As we’ve done every year on this day, we will be devoting our entire episode to a scientific narrative that is sure to delight both the young and the young at heart. And also those who have stolen young hearts and incorporated them into your flesh sacks. For this year’s Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentations, we will be looking into the history of – the Space Race. Mmm! My husband Carlos has been helping me research this. Thanks, honey! And so it should be airtight and without error.

Now, the Space Race truly began in 1792, at a garden party hosted by the first Duke of Luftnarp one lazy July weekend. A bored group of noble people were sitting out in the garden in all their ruffles and wigs, looking absolutely fashionable for the time, and absolutely ridiculous to modern eyes. And soon the conversation turned, as it often does in parties, to how much they all hated the moon. “Stupid moon!” said one. “Lousy orb!” added another. “Why, I loathe that sky rock!” said a third. Then they started to throw things at the moon to demonstrate how much they hated it. But none of the objects they threw, not the champagne glasses, nor the decorative party masks, nor the dangerous knives, came anywhere near the moon. Most of the hurled items followed the tedious arch of gravity back into the party with mixed results for the attendees, some of whom required immediate medical attention. “This won’t do,” said the first Duke of Luftnarp. “We must hit the moon square on with our objects of derision. “Let us endeavour,” said the Prince of York, “to build an object that can make it all the way to the moon, and smack that awful rock right across its ugly surface. The first one to do so will show that they indeed hate the moon the most.” There was general cheering to that remark, along with some moaning from those who had been struck by the falling objects. And thus, the Space Race was born.

And now the news. As I’m sure we’ve all been following, there is a presidential race going on. Yes, Night Vale may be a small town, mostly preoccupied with the banal goings on of our day to day life, but we are not unaware of national stories. Just like any other town, we have our own opinions on the presidential race. And spirited debates are held weekly in the Compressed Spine amateur boxing gym. Winner is generally by knockout, although occasionally a winner has to be chosen by points. I myself am a strong supporter of Spotless Tony, who I think has the best positions including banning guns, legalizing writing utensils, and Medicare for Spotless Tony. A-a program that would provide comprehensive health care to himself. Others may support Heartbreak Maggie, and I do see the arguments for her. She has the most number of arms, the most number of eyes, and her singing voice literally kills. In any case, I think we can all get together on one thing: Old Towel Leonard has got to go. Get him out of here, ugh! Old Towel Leonard! This has been the news.

And now traffic. Lift your eyes, pilgrims. See above you, another world awaits. This world has grown so tired. This world has grown restless. This world has less color and more dust. Lift your eyes, pilgrims. See above you, another world awaits. Get to that other world by any means, pilgrims. For what are pilgrims without their pilgrimage? What is anyone without a destination? You must lift yourself up to that other place. Gather your supplies, pilgrims. Strip this world bare in order to raise yourself up. Take every scrap around you and put it toward that other world. This is all that matters. It’s all that matters to you, and so it is all that matters. Aloft, pilgrims. You have done it. from here, the sweep of the universe presents itself. Cast down your eyes, pilgrims. See below you the world you left behind, the world you stripped bare to make this journey. There was found all the conditions of life. Up here is only a cold, lonely hollow. Why did you ever feel you needed to leave? But oh well, ooooh well. For what are pilgrims without their pilgrimage? This has been traffic.

Let us know continue with our Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation. The history of the Space Race. The Space Race went on through the 18th and 19th centuries, with the rich and poor alike trying to be the first to successfully throw something at that horrible moon. The most obvious methods were quickly tried and discarded. Catapults only managed to cause collateral damage to neighboring homes, gunpowder only backfired on the scientists involved, often quite literally. One woman, the Arch Dutchess of the Motley Meadows, believed that she could reach the moon through dreaming. Every night, she performed a series of meditations that allowed her to have lucid control of her dreams. In those dreams, she would fly upward, each time getting a little closer to the dumb old moon. It was her belief that when she reached the moon in her dream, she would attain the same goal in real life. But the moment she finally touched the moon in her dream, she awoke to find herself in the stifling darkness of a coffin. It seems she had died several decades before, but still she dreamed. Having ascertained that there was no way back from the grave, she performed the meditations and fell into one final endless lucid dream. And that basically sums up the Space Race until 1953.

Now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by Borders Books and Music. Remember the old days when your legs were shorter, but your life stretched longer? When the shadows were less dark and the lights less bleary. When the internet was a secret club and not a poisoned chalice. When energy was a bottomless thing, not a quickly siphoned tank. We are what once was. Look on our works, both books and music, ye mighty, and peruse. Borders Books and Music. What you are now, we used to be. What we are now, you will be. This has been a word from our sponsors.

The lawsuit in the case of the estate of Franklin Chen versus the city of Night Vale continues apace. The suit is currently in the discovery phase, which has been made difficult by the fact that the apparent murderer of Franklin Chen, Hiram McDaniels, has not been seen in Night Vale for years. Not since… the incident. And all records in Night Vale are top secret. So every time the lawyers for the Chen family try to see one, they have to dodge the laser grid and tank darts that surround every filing cabinet in City Hall. Those lawyers have filed an injunction against the city to try to force them to turn the laser grids off, but as the official Night Vale motto, written by the town founders hundreds of years ago clearly states: “Laser grids or death”. More news on this lawsuit as news is made by this lawsuit.

Back to the Space Race. Affairs continued with little success until 1953, when the United States, descendants of the Prince of York, decided that enough was enough and established the North American Slap the Moon Agency, or NASA, dedicated to developing the skills and technology needed to give that horrible orbiter what for. Meanwhile, the Russians, descendants of the Duke of Luftnarp, started their own agency designed to kick the moon in the you know what. And so a bet between two bored aristocrats became a global race, as they both tried to be the first to aim missiles at that sad little planetoid. To represent us, we chose Neil Armstrong. He was a test pilot, and he reportedly hated the moon more than anyone. Above his bed, he kept a National Geographic picture of the moon. The caption: “Can this celestial trash ever be put in its place?”, which he had drawn a huge red X through. Below that, he wrote: “Darn you, moon!” Which was the strongest language that existed in the 1950’s.

Finally, all was prepared. Neil Armstrong and his fellow astronauts boarded the rocket. All was quiet. Then, all was loud. More soon, but now for this week’s word jumble.

The following nonsense words will, when the letters are rearranged, produce a simple phrase we all know well. Here we go. Before I went into the cave, the prospect of the cave became so monstrous in my head that I dreamt about it for weeks. In my dreams I was just outside of the cave and I knew that the moment I stepped into the cave, my life would be over. But I also knew I could not delay my journey into the cave. I shook and shook with fear, and in my shaking awoke myself. This happened night after night. Then came the day of our expedition and to my horror, as I stood outside the cave, the same dread certainty came to me as soon as I stepped one foot into the crevice before me, my life would be over. I shook and shook, but I did not awaken, for I was not asleep but in the terrible dream we call life. So there it is. Just take those nonsense words apart and rearrange them into the phrase we’re looking for. If you think you have the answer, you probably do. Great job! Uh, before we go, the answer to last week’s jumble was: “Hop! The window shakes slyly, look here!” Which is, of course, the title to Dave Edgar’s new book of essays about block chains. This has been this week’s word jumble.

We near the end of our story on the Space Race. Neil Armstrong and his comrades hunched in this tiny capsule that absurdity of absurdities was about to be launched through void to lifeless rock. Sweat on his nose, sweat on his lips. Then sweat in his mouth. This was all unnecessary, the-the history of humanity did not require us to physically touch everything there is, but. Some drive made him willing to risk his life, the only life he would ever get, in order to go far away and then come back again. There was a sound. There was a fire! There was pressure! And then, there was an absence of pressure. And they were at the moon. The lander careened its way to the surface. Neil, sweat still on his face, placed one foot on the moon. “I have a small foot,” he said. “But humanity metaphorically has big feet. Biiiig huuuge metaphoric feet.” History would record and repeat these poetic words. Neil looked about him. He had done it. He had been the first one to smack into this disgusting space rock. All around was grey, and above that black. And within that, unnervingly distant blue and green. And then, Neil saw.

What Neil saw in a moment. But we really should, and we really must Go to the weather.

[“Have a Smoke” by Head Portals https://headportals.bandcamp.com]

Neil’s breath made shapes on the inside of his helmet. Some part of him felt that it was not even him on the moon, but that he was merely watching someone else’s body through a little window. That other him stepped forward and saw something truly odd. It was a house. Solidly built, two floors, a front door and gable windows. As he looked at it in disbelief, he realized that it was one of many. An entire town all cleverly camouflaged from above with grey and black mesh, so that it would appear through telescopes to be merely the awful boring surface of the awful boring moon. He was not the first one on the moon after all. Who had come before? He walked through the town, tho it appeared abandoned. He stood in the middle of the main square and he said, tho he would not be able to be heard through his helmet and the thin atmosphere: “Hello?” In every window appeared an animal. Dogs, cats, snakes, hamsters, and parrots. So many animals all watching him silently, regarding him from the windows of their little town. One cat, grey as the moon itself, hopped from her ledge and came over to him. “I am Barbara Emmeline Gwendolyn Sauss,” said the cat. “But you may call me Barb-E-Q –Sauss.” Neil said: “You can talk?” And then he said, “Well, apparently you can, I don’t know why I asked. The cat continued as though he had not spoken. “This is our city. We are the lost pets of your world. We are lost, because that is what we choose to be. We came here so we could be lost forever. Tell no one.” Neil didn’t know what to say. All of his training had been about zero-G maneuvering and the best way to hit the stupid moon when he got there. Nothing about how to interact with a cat that wanted him to keep a secret. “Please,” the cat repeated, and Neil nodded. Not knowing what else to do, he went back to the lander, climbed in, and looked at the other man who had made this journey with him. Lee Marvin looked back at him with gentle eyes. “Lee,” Neil said, “You’re not going to believe this!” “A secret lost pet city on the moon?” Lee said. “Well…” Neil said, “Uh… yes!” Lee nodded thoughtfully. “Better leave them to it then,” he said. “Probably better we keep this between us.” Lee did not look surprised. It seemed to Neil that maybe Lee was there precisely to ensure that this secret was kept. And so again Neil only nodded, and they made their preparations and left. As they launched, out of the tiny window, Neil could just barely see thousands of animal eyes looking up at him. “I’ll keep your secret,” he whispered, “I’ll keep your secret. And he did. He never told anyone. Neither did Lee. No one knows this story. No one has ever heard it.

This has been the Children’s Fun Fact Science Presentation.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Correct placement from right to left: salad fork, soup spoon, salad spoon, bread knife, bowie knife, meat thermometer, entrée fork, and finally, the dessert claws.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #episode 161 #the space race

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justauthoring · 4 years

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the new chapter of NRT literally snatched my wig, she’s in orbit now

😂😂 thank youuuuu

#personal

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hua-fei-hua · 4 years

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any lil trivia bits for paper faces?

i feel like i’m gonna start off every bullet point on this list with “fun fact” even though that’s literally what this is asking for LOL

fun fact i was reading paper faces last night and thinking “man i am a good fucking writer hot damn i am some hot shit” and then seeing all these little tidbits like “ah yes this is a fun fact” and all this just to say that it was the fic i had in mind when i mentioned i wanted to talk abt Fic Trivia lmao

in the scene where todoroki goes back to his dad’s house to get the ring out of the attic, there were a lot of really subtle, but really deliberate references to the effects of abuse on a child that i picked up from having a mutual who posted abt that kind of thing a lot a long time ago. stuff like being able to locate and identify a person in the house based off the sound of their footfall, naturally silencing your own footsteps, knowing the layout of the house in the dark like the back of your hand, those are things i remember reading a lot abt in my early days of tumblr, and they’ve stuck with me.

there were a few random implications throughout that todoroki was afraid of the dark to a certain extent (like in the scene where he first enters the piano room w/momo, he mentions that he usually had his flames to keep him company in the dark), and those just kind of happened as i was writing and i was like “yeah okay i can dig this”

i feel like it’s very obvious that i’m not used to describing clothes or appearances in the fic bc i spent like an hour trying to write the three sentences that ultimately described momo’s attire LMAO

the code name for this fic in my tiny notebook has been 土豆, which means potato (despite being translated literally out as earth bean), bc I didn't know exactly the word for face in chinese, but I did know that 豆 was a radical in there, so. Earth bean.

my mother once told me she bought a pearl ring with one of her first adult(?) paychecks. That's where I got the idea for where in the god damn fuck todoroki would get a ring. I think I just threw out a ring in the original pitch as a placeholder

from chapter three: "even though they both ended up on the floor, once momo regained her bearings, she felt as if she had missed the ground" is a reference to the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, wherein it's said that the way to fly is to fall and miss the ground. (that's actually what it means to orbit the earth; satellites are constantly falling so fast they miss the ground) basically, what's being said there can be interpreted in three ways. One, she saw his face (still masked) in the moonlight and felt that giddy, weightless rush that you get when you look at your crush or w/e, in a "everytime we kiss I swear I could fly" kind of way. Two, she had fallen, but she missed the ground and landed in love. Three, she was simply dissociating from shock.

here’s a line that got cut from chapter four: “Bakugou made his bitching noises and ran his hands through his hair, puffing it up a bit extra with the little explosions that came with his bitching, but in the end, he let them stay.” There was actually no point to having that one scene in bakugou's room other than self-indulgence lmao. the bit where he puffs up his hair via explosions was a reference to a very good krbk fic i once read. (and if that’s not the fic where that idea originated then i have no idea what fic i got it from)

in chapter three, it’s mentioned that seating arrangements at the masquerade were done by assigning basically ink blot cards w/invitations and you sat w/a matching ink blot. the todoroki siblings didn’t think who got what card really mattered, so that’s how you ended up w/fuyumi sitting across from momo and shoto sitting across from hawks lol

in the scene where fuyumi and natsuo were arguing abt shoto getting the phantom of the opera mask and fuyumi goes “i’m going to get some hair spray [for the wig],” i was originally going to have natsuo go “no stop that you’re gonna give him cancer [from all the aerosol spray you’re using in this poorly ventilated bathroom]” as a reference to a script i did for speech as a senior, but i ended up cutting it bc i felt it might be in poor taste just in general

both tdk and momo kept and dried their boutonniere and corsage, respectively, after the event. i was gonna put them kind of staring at their respective flowers for a bit in chapter four, but that didn’t fit

the object which momo gave to todoroki when they were children was originally supposed to be a matryoshka doll, but for some reason i changed it to a fake flower

#asks #paper faces is like my ego boost fic i'm gonna be real with you #it was also the fic that made me realize that i write more passionately out of excitement than out of spite #i'm not a spite writer #people making me feel bad just makes me feel bad not want to prove them wrong #anyway not really trivia but m*neta doesn't exist in this fic and is replaced by shinsou #but that's a proper assumption to be making about any and all of my fics #mmm yup this should be all the little trivia snippets i had abt this fic that i wrote down #other than maybe wanting to include a scene where izch is like 'lol we don't like each other'#and iida gives them this look like 'do you guys honestly think that i do not have functioning eyeballs'#stardust-make-a-wish

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