#n I’m still not done leveling that artifact either I have 4 more to go sooooo gonna get even more crit rate on him 😌

[artdjgblog]

Innerview: Cathy Fishel / Print Magazine August 2005 Image:​ Print Magazine​ Note: Interview for the Print Regional Design Annual.

Introduction: Cathy…Sorry you missed me. Sorry to miss you. Thanks for the message (sorry it cut you off in the middle of your phone number). Things are a bit intense as summer brings a new definition of BUSY. Work. Work. Work. Many thanks for the kind words about my work and I. It means so much. Yeah, I am sure it is chore to sift through all of the junk I’ve been dumping on the PRINT headquarters every March for the past three years or so…(I feel like a true failure if I send less than fifty entries). It is funny because just last week I was thinking about the upcoming PRINT Regional Annual and how I had not heard back on if I was selected…and I guess I have been…how many? And what? I am very curious. I had pretty much written it off. Thanks for informing me…I suppose I was supposed to receive notice upon that a while back…what happened there? Same thing happened to me last year. Out of curiosity I called somebody at PRINT last year and sure enough they had contacted me at the wrong address or something like that…I hope that wasn’t the case again. We need to get that straightened out…indeed. Certainly, I am thrilled to participate in this little questionaire. Wow, i’ve always wanted to. You don’t have to worry about smearing my name from anything said. I don’t care. Here we go… ​​01) How has the pace of business/number of jobs been in the past year as compared to the previous year? The pace is as thick as I want it and when I have sleep to deprive. I’ve always held other jobs and currently work a massive sixty-two hour weekly schedule as a groundskeeper and a janitorial supervisor…thus, cramming design into my pockets…and whenever I can squeeze it in my free time or find it under the pillow in the wee morning. I never actively seek my work due to time constraints and exhaustion…not yet, at least…and besides, the majority is word of mouth. Most of the time I just make stuff. Some of the time I get a nice little call or email and then just make more stuff. 0​2) Why is it up or down? The numbers (ups/downs) are slim if you stack them to my three previous so-called “professional” years…of course it’s due to my lack of time…fatigue…getting older…and mostly because I don’t really have a definite connection with my clients like I used to…and I don’t live with bands, attend concerts or am around my clients as much as I used to…(in case you’re wondering, my primary source of work is in the local independent music industry). Also, I am not as twenty-four-seven-gung-holike I was when I first started. I’ve accomplished most everything I set out to do at this point…(perhapsI’m just settling and need to mark a new planner?). 0​3) Has there been any surprises in the past year? Good or bad? Surprises in my work and thoughts come quite often. Sometimes it’s mush. Sometimes they come as sneakeries. The only real surprises come when I get random calls/emails from kind Print editors, designers requesting copies of posters, people wanting to put me in their books, seeing my work in books/magazines next to my inspirations/peers…and recent college graduates persuing job opportunities with my bedroom design operation. It’s all good…never bad…well, the only bad thing would be that I have to shell out good money for the good books that I’m in. 0​4) Has there been an influx of a new sort of work or client in your office? In the design community as a whole? Honestly, the only new things I approach are the things that come with each new day and in thought. I try to treat each design day new. Nothing I do is new to the worlds, other than in my own. I do thumb magazines a bit and I am a bit of a junky with design/culture and such…and I do keep my eyes open at all times…though, sometimes too much of it can make me not like design or anything. It’s getting to be way over-impacted with the idea that everyone thinks themselves to be a designer. Most of the only new sort of work that really kicks me (or I even consider new) comes from scraps of paper I find and hand painted ghetto signage. Though, if we’re talking professional work, I guess there is some good stuff coming out of the local climate. And of course I guess there is always good stuff coming out of the woods everywhere. Others might lump me in there somewhere. I don’t really know or care. 0​5) What is the economic climate like there in general? I was bummed when Quik Trip ended their “Cheap Drink Summer” so soonly…however, I’ve always got the Hostess thrift store two blocks away. I always find free junk in the streets and at work in the trash…and I always find great deals on paper and “whatevers” at thrift stores. No matter if I don’t cash in on design…I’ve always got cheap fuel to burn…and I will always barter for goods and services…if the price is right/not right. 0​6) Have any large clients closed or left the area? Who? Most of the rock ‘n’ rollers are skinny little dudes and I’m the one that’s gaining the weight around my belt and portfolio pit. There have been a few bands that have broken apart and some that have decided to play musician-designer to save money. And combined roles like that don’t always produce wickedly pretty offspring. 0​7) Has there been any changes in the ways that clients do business with designers (good or bad)? Not really any changes in clients. People still owe me money. Most people still don’t want to pay much or even pay at all for design…though, they are eager to push the products I slap myself onto and I give them free press in books/magazines. Oh well, that’s part of the deal and I knew that from the get go. It’s more than thant anyway. And I still love them…I am sure they still love me…I just don’t make enough from it to eat. But, I do have some wonderful clients that I hope to cradle and/or have them cradle me for a long time…we’ll see. 0​8) Is the design community tight-knit? Competitive? Friendly? What? I don’t really associate with other designers due to a lack of time and sometimes, simply want. I do have a few I check in on…but mostly I stick to my own guns. Therefore, I constantly hope my cats and girlfriend understand what the heck I’m talking about. It’s mostly mumbles I’m trying to say though…at least I’m entertained. In terms of the local design community…well, I guess the art/design here in Kansas City is looking pretty good. Even though i’m only in my fourth year, through the visual clutter I can see a few improvements. From what I understand, there is a tight-knit community that I’m not really associated with physically. From the outside, the knit appears to be extremely tight though. These days I like to sit at home and hunch my shoulders…and I like to think and be around people/places/things that aren’t necessarily directly connected to the design world, but they are in my personal one (whatever that means). In competitive terms I guess I fell victim to that last December. One of the best things I’ve ever done was stolen at an exhibition. Poor Mortimer was an only child and I’ve nothing to document him. Either I’m getting somewhat popular or I have a backlash. I’m also getting tired of most of the announcement boards to post posters being smaller than one of my posters (time to break out my little hands). ​0​9) What exciting things are going on in the design community? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Well, I’m kind of excited to see where this city is headed to as a whole. There are a lot of expensive things being built…new downtown developments/arena…and a ridiculous addition to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art that looks like a giant trash bin and/or trailer home. 10) What are you looking forward to in the next year? Any big changes? Anything that you hope will happen? Well, I am getting married this Fall and thus must condense my apartment. I must lovingly adapt to sharing my artifacts, junk, libraries, wall space and work space with a woman. I also plan to start sleeping on a real bed again…and to quit my night job. She is a good one though. 11.) Why is where you are a great place/lousy place to be a designer? Since I’m a one man show, I can take my design anywhere. Though, it helps to have an outlet to a music community…I guess…if I want to continue with that. I guess with this question, it’s mostly all behind the controller. You’ve really got to chop some trees down to be heard…or just put your head down, barrel through them and not really pay attention. And my real dream is to live in the woods outside of a small town near a big city and have the requests come to my porch via arrows…and to make things for myself. I’ve never been one to worry myself about if I’m in the right place or not. As long as my brain is not too sloshy and polluted, I will be fine. 12) What advantages does the midwest hold as a design source for clients? I was born and fed here. It is ok (at times a bit too honky and wonky). I’m happy with the way things have gone so far. I’ve got a meager following here that I suppose “gets it”…and the norm that says, “That’s different.” Though I haven’t really ventured off much in my design life, or simply, life in general. I hear it’s a mighty treat to get out. And I also hear good things about the midwest’s hospitality and friendliness from outsiders and/or people who get out. Perhaps I’ll pack it up one of these days and try some new turf to ooze between my toes. 13) What is the level of student/job applicant talent? Is young talent staying in the area or leaving? It’s really flattering, funny and somewhat depressing to me that I’ve received many offers from recent design graduates who desperately want to work for me. Some are really talented too…and I must paint my sad tale of no funds or time for me to even consider full-time employment with myself. Maybe I’ll just have them move in for therapy…or start my own school with fire poles to slide through the floors of my apartment building and heaping pile of posters to burn for warmth. -djg

#innerviews

[lupin-bun]

A Wing and a Prayer - Chapter 11 (A Yondu fic)

A/N: Not much to say here. The fic is starting to wind to a close now. Only a bit of it left but I hope people have enjoyed/are enjoying it.

If you have any questions for Yondu and/or El, please visit my askblog :) xx

Yondu/El (Yondu/OC)

Warnings: Slavery

Chapters 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10

***

El landed with a painful smack on the floor. The force of the impact made one of the beads pop out of her mouth and roll away and she scurried quickly to pick it up again before the door slid open. The only real hiding place in here were the table legs and El cowered behind one, watching the Collector's boots stride across the room, followed by smaller, daintier shoes with pink legs visible above them.

“You will collect all my notes and file them away.” The Collector was saying. “And, after that, I want you to feed each of my beasts. They're hungry.”

“All of them, master?” Came the nervous voice of a girl.

“Yes, all of them.” The Collector confirmed.

“But, master, you told me I could go home if I-...”

“Are you defying me?”

“No, master, not at all! It's just that I've been here for thirteen hours now and-...”

“And one more will not make much difference. Is that not right?” The Collector's voice now had a dangerous, steely edge, something that was clearly picked up on by the girl who replied,

“...Yes, master. Of course, master.”

There were some rustling noises as the Collector picked up the device on its stand.

“Only after your chores may you go home.” He informed the girl. There was a whir, a click, then an identical whir followed by a clunk. “The gemini gun is, by far, my most useful artifact, don't you think, Six?” The Collector asked. “With this, there's no limit to the specimens I can acquire.

Pfft. “Gemini gun”. Were her mouth not full of glowing beads, El would have snorted. The Collector wasn't exactly original with his nicknames for things. She settled for rolling her beady little eyes incredulously.

“Lock the door behind you when you're finished.” The Collector finished, lazily, and showed himself out, leaving Six standing where she was.

Six sighed and began gathering the notes strewn all over the table.

“Do this, Six. Do that, Six. One more hour won't hurt, Six.” She muttered to herself, angrily, as she worked.

Staying aware of this slave girl's location, El peeked out from behind her table leg to look around. She couldn't see an easy way out from here. And, even if she got back up to that sky light, there's nothing she could turn into that could keep hold of these beads as she got through that tight wire mesh. How, then, was she supposed to get out of here?

As she was sitting, deep in thought, she watched as Six dipped her hands into the creatures' tanks to give them food of varying kinds. Six seemed like such a gentle girl and the creatures all seemed to like her. Indeed, many of them nuzzled her hand as she fed them and Six happily petted them back. El looked harder at Six. She was not much more than a teenager, sixteen or seventeen at most. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her gold eyes had a warmth about them that had not yet been stamped out by her master. As El watched, she happened to catch the eye of one of the creatures that had helped her. It was an odd white and pink thing with curious tufts of blue fur sticking out from either side of its head. The creature gestured to Six and nodded. What did that mean, though? El paid attention to Six again, trying to work out what the white and pink thing was trying to convey.

“I'm so sorry. I wish I could take you all home with me.” Six was saying as she released live cricket like things into one of the tanks, standing on a small set of steps so she could reach. “Maybe one day when I'm rich and famous and can afford a house big enough for everybody, huh?” She laughed but there was very little humour in it.

El looked back at the white and pink creature who nodded vigorously again. Catching on, El transformed with a small flash.

A pale blue cat crept out from her hiding place behind the table leg and mewed as best she could around the beads in her mouth. Six spun round with a gasp and looked down at her. El pulled her best cute face, staring up at Six with huge eyes.

“Who are you?” Six asked in a hushed tone. “I've never seen you here before. Are you one of my master's specimens?” El's ears went flat. Six hopped down from her set of steps and crouched to get a closer look at El. She held out her hand, experimentally. Acting as cat-like as possible, El sniffed her hand once, then rubbed her face against it with a small purr. “You must have got in from outside somehow.” Six said, quietly. She glanced around quickly. “Come on. Let's get you out of here before you get put in a tank too.” She scooped El up in her arms and hurried through the museum, glancing over her shoulder every now and then, making sure she wasn't being followed. She reached a set of double glass doors and pressed a button to release them. They swung open and Six quickly crouched again to let El go.

“Six. Is that you I hear?” Came the Collector's voice from somewhere inside the museum. Six gasped and dropped El on the ground.

“Go!” She hissed. She straightened up,

El watched as Six backed away and put a hand out to press the button again. She looked so trapped and alone, El just couldn't help herself. She dropped the beads on the ground. 

“I'll come back for you too.” She murmured.

As the doors swung closed, Six's eyes went wide and El knew she'd heard her. She looked like she wanted to communicate something back but her head suddenly snapped round in response to a noise or a call that El now couldn't hear through the glass. Six looked back at her and flapped her hands, shooing El away, gesturing for her to run. And El wasted no time. She picked up the beads and bolted down the path that led away and into the city.

*

Yondu was still sitting in the bar at the inn, now on his fifth drink and getting decidedly fuzzy-eyed when El dropped herself down onto a barstool beside him... clothed. She was wearing a pair of dark grey trousers, a white shirt, brown calf-high boots and a brown jacket made of some kind of leather. Yondu looked at her, unfocussed.

“Whur'd yuh git all'a dat?” He slurred. His accent was thick at the best of times and now he was almost unintelligible so it took El a second to answer. She laughed.

“Swiped it off some drunkard in the street on my way back.” She said casually. She gestured to the bartender. “I'll have whatever it is he's got, please.” she said, jerking a thumb at Yondu, apparently unconcerned about the fact there was now some poor soul out on the streets of Knowhere in just their underwear (here, Yondu glanced at El's lower half)... maybe.

“Way back frum where?” Yondu asked, frowning in confusion, doing his level best to focus properly.

El smiled, deviously. Glancing around, she put a hand in her pocket and pulled out the beads. She showed Yondu, hiding them from anyone else's view with her body.

“Whuzzat?” Yondu asked, gazing bearily at the beads. “Where yuh bin, girl?”

“As far as I can tell, they're the reactors those Terrans created that jam alternate energy flow.” El said, proudly. “I pulled them out of that device you sold to the Collector.”

“Yuh whut!?” Yondu yelled, loudly, snarling at her, apparently snapping back to sobriety out of sheer rage. El jumped as half the bar looked over at them and she stuffed the beads unceremoniously back into her pocket.

“Sssshhh!!!” she hissed, urgently.

“Yuh try'na git us all in trouble?!”

“Ok, first of all, ssh!” El snapped. “Second of all, he won't know they're gone for a long time. I dismantled the device... or, rather “gemini gun”, took the beads and put everything back how it was. He was done examining it so he won't suspect that anything's wrong until he wants to use it which, with any luck, won't be for some weeks at least.” El finished and there was silence between them for a second as Yondu comprehended what El had done.

“Wait, yuh got inteh Tivan's place alone,” Yondu said slowly.

“Yes.”

“Yuh stole them... things, alone”

“Yes.”

“Yuh got out again,”

“Again, yes.”

“An' yuh di'n't get seen??”

“Not once. Yondu, I told you. I can handle myself.”

Yondu's eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly open, jagged teeth showing, as the bartender placed El's drink in front of her. El glanced up and put her hand in her pocket again to get some stolen coins she'd taken from the drunkard's own wallet. Yondu laughed slightly in disbelief and put a hand out to stop her.

“Nah. Ah'm buyin'.”

#yondu #yondu udonta #yondu/el #fanfic #fanfiction #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol. 2 #yondu/oc #self-insert