#point blank range thing being for undercover specifically like

[clannfearrunt]

Nintendo essay on not wanting to even consider buffing brellas even a little bit sowwy we just don’t want to ~change how it feels to play~ what is ur Fucking Problem

[aridara]

So Siryouarebeingmocked, being the patethic and toxic imbecile he is, decided to complain about how people are treating the Capitol coupers differently than BLM protesters. Like, no shit, Sherlock, that’s because they ARE different. SYABM just pretends that BLM is somehow worse, because he has literally never denounced a white supremacist in his entire existence on Tumblr.

For example, he claims that, during this summer, cops were ordered to look the other way when it came to BLM protests. This is a complete and utter lie.

He also claims that Trump was accused of “being a fascist sending out government troops” just because he sent federal cops to protect federal buildings. Again, this is false. Trump sent troop to kidnap people off the streets and take them elsewhere for interrogation, on unlabeled vehicles, without showing or telling the arrested where they were going, and most importantly without any charge. Basically, they went in Portland, arrested any black person that happened to be there for no fucking reason, then dragged them away into some federal building to detain them. Of course, SYABM doesnt’t tell you any of that, because SYABM is a fascist sympathizer.

Someone called @lercymoth decided to dispel his bullshit. Here’s the post; I can’t reblog it, because SYABM blocked me after I pointed out that he was making cops look really incompetent.

SYABM responded. And his response was, obviously, shit. So here I am, trying to deal with his bullshit.

Before we start, a few rules. First: if SYABM misinterpreted or missed Lercymoth’s point, I will instantly dismiss SYABM’s argument without even reading the rest of it. The reason why is simple: countering your opponent’s argument requires you to counter what your opponent ACTUALLY said. If you don’t do that, then you aren’t actually countering your opponent’s argument, which means that you don’t have any actual objection to your opponent’s argument. Now, we could give people the benefit of the doubt and assume that they just made a honest mistake... but SYABM doesn’t deserve any mercy whatsoever. So, if he fails to address one of Lercymoth’s arguments, Lercymoth automaticaly wins.

Second rule: if SYABM completely dismisses Lercymoth’s arguments as “irrelevant”, SYABM automatically loses. Again, SYABM deserves no mercy whatsoever. If he doesn’t bother to make a counter-argument, then he doesn’t have one.

>Yes, people some people got shot, but:

There’s an old saying; what comes after the ‘but’ is the real argument. It’s generally reliable. Especially when you’re being vague about identifying folks in this sentence when you’re ostensibly acknowledging victimhood of the recent DC protesters, but very precise in the following ones when you want to assign blame, or claim BLM are victims

This is a “tone argument”. SYABM isn't addressing Lercymoth's argument; he's whining about the way Lercymoth is presenting it.

Since SYABM isn't actually addressing Lercymoth's argument, this paragraph is worthless. Lercymoth wins.

>let crowd in

Yes, because they were outnumbered, IIRC. They physically couldn’t keep the crowd out without killing people.

Surprisingly, SYABM might actually have a point here.

Unfortunately, I have no intention of giving him mercy. SYABM conveniently forgets that the police has no problem whatsoever with killing black people for being potentially threatening. So why the disparity here? SYABM doesn't explain it, therefore Lercymoth automatically wins.

>took selfies

So you’re implying a few pictures obviates being shot?

SYABM is deliberately missing the point. The point is that the cops decided to be friendly with the insurgents despite the fact that they aren't supposed to be buddy-buddy with insurgents who are attempting a coup.

SYABM automatically loses, since he deliberately avoided addressing Lercymoth’s argument. Lercymoth wins.

>Had to to get attention

There are several things wrong with this statement.

So let me get this straight.  you think government officials don’t care about the lives and livelihoods of black people.  and so, you decided the best way to fix this problem is by destroying the lives and livelihoods of black people...

Nope. Black people didn't choose to protest. The violent reaction of the police, coupled with decades of racism, caused the riots.

Martin Luther King Jr. said that “a riot is the language of the unheard”; and this is precisely what is currently happening. We're at the point where riots WILL happen, regardless of what black or white people want; and the only way to fix this is by addressing the cause of the riot. Continuing to blame black people without fixing the racist police system addresses the symptom, not the cause; and on top of that, it's precisely the mindset that caused the riots in the first place.

Also, 93% of all BLM since May have been peaceful (https://time.com/5886348/report-peaceful-protests/) - and that's if we count “spraying graffiti” and “responding to an unjustified attack from cops/white supremacists” as violence. The vast majority of the violence came from white supremacists and cops. Therefore, any discussion about the violence that happened during the protests that DOESN'T acknowledge this is intrinsically dishonest, and therefore must be dismissed.

Ah, also this bit:

in fact some of them are still claiming it.  like aridara.   he implied the riots themselves by blm were all peaceful,  but any actual violence?  clearly that was done by undercover cops and 88ers.

Yeah, SYABM just made that up. As fucking usual. Rest of the section dismissed due to SYABM's dishonesty. Lercymoth wins.

>rubber bullets

 yeah it’s literally impossible to aim those with precision outside of point Blank  range. you cannot reliably shoot somebody in the eye from more than a  foot or two away.

SYABM is missing the point. Lercymoth was talking about cases where people were shot directly with rubber bullets. Keep in mind that EVERY training says that rubber bullets must be aimed towards the ground, so that they bounce off and lose power before hitting the protesters. The sheer amount of times cops violated this basic training, and the fact that they violated such a basic rule, shows us that these aren't accidental cases; these are deliberate actions.

SYABM, instead, claims that the cops couldn't reliably aim at people's eyes, therefore cops didn't deliberately shoot rubber bullets directly at people. Which is bullshit logic. Rest of the paragraph dismissed. Lercymoth wins.

>fascist

Nope. People literally called the cops ‘troops’, including news sources, and called him fascist for sending them in.

SYABM is once again missing the point. Trump sent in federal cops to arrest people without any charge, kidnap them off the streets, and transport them to federal buildings without telling anyone.

Rest of the paragraph dismissed. Lercymoth wins. Again: if SYABM wants to disprove Lercymoth's arguments, then SYABM must actually talk about Lercymoth's arguments. If SYABM talks about other stuff without actually addressing Lercymoth's arguments, then SYABM didn't disprove Lercymoth's arguments - which means that the latter wins by default.

All that other stuff? Irrelevant. My point was “the cops used much less force than they did in DC to protect Federal property in Portland,...

SYABM is once again missing Lercymoth's point, which is that cops use IMMEDIATE violence against BLM for stuff like peaceful protesting; while they treated the Capitol coupers with kid gloves. SYABM failed to disprove this (no, his bullshit cherry-picked example doesn’t count jack shit), therefore Lercymoth wins by default. The end.

It’s funny you should mention Ted Wheeler, when he’s one of the people the rioters harassed. And the tear gas incident in July was when he was an anonymous face in the crowd, wearing a mask,...

This is false. As usual, SYABM just lies, lies, lies without bringing any source to back up his own claims. In fact, whenever he makes a claim without bothering to bring up any source, the chances that he's lying increase considerably.

Anyway, rest of the section dismissed because it's based on a lie. Lercymoth wins.

>- Putting fucking children in concentration camps. (They’re not detainment centers. Those don’t have fences cages with tin foil blankets.)

How exactly do you detain people without fences and walls?

SYABM is once again missing the point. Lercymoth specifically said “fence cages”; SYABM, instead, talks about fences and walls. SYABM refuses to address Lercyomth’s argument, therefore he abandons the competition; Lercymoth wins.

>No one wants the idea that the White House raiders being treated better than BLM to be true. 

Really? No one wants to claim BLM are treated worse because of racism? Not a single person?

SYABM is once again missing the point. Lercymoth is pointing out that nobody wants X to be true; but X is true so people claim that X is true. Because it IS.

SYABM cherry-picks Lercymoth's argument into “nobody […] claim that X is true”. Which is a massive strawman. Which means that SYABM isn't attacking Lercymoth's actual argument – which means that Lercymoth, once again, wins by default.

And that's it. Literally ALL of Lercymoth's arguments win by default, because Siryouarebeingmocked is too coward, dishonest and spineless to actually try to disprove them.

[indelibleevidence]

Blank, chapter 5 and 6

Author’s Note: I figured I might as well just stick them both in one post, since I wrote them both today. Next time I decide to set a stupidly short deadline to write a 10k fic, slap my hand and tell me NO. Anyway, this is now COMPLETE! Whoo! And it would be awesome to hear your thoughts.

***

Five

They dropped Tasha off on the corner to grab coffee, from what was apparently their usual coffee shop—yet another thing Jane didn’t remember. Then Kurt guided the car into the underground parking garage, and they headed from there back into the NYO, ending up in the locker room to stash their jackets and bulletproof vests.

The raid had been unsuccessful, based on red herring intel planted by Ivy to keep them running in circles. Kurt and Tasha had been vocally frustrated and discouraged on the way back to the office, and Jane might have been just as annoyed, if not for the fact that this had been her first time out in the field since her memory had been wiped.

It had been gratifying to discover the muscle memory she’d utilised in the gym and shooting range yesterday had been just as automatic in the field, in a potentially risky situation. Kurt had given her silent hand signals to tell her what to focus on and where to go, and she’d understood them all without needing to think about it. Every time she discovered something she could do—rather than being told she could do it by someone who already knew—it was validating, giving her a rush she was eager to experience as much as possible.

She closed the locker and looked over at Kurt. “So what’s next?”

“Probably more combing through CCTV footage, to see if we can spot anything new.” Kurt took a step towards the door, then seemed to reconsider. “We have a few minutes to spare, though. Come and sit with me for a second?”

He headed over to one of the benches at the end of a row of lockers, and sat down. Wondering why he’d chosen the locker room to linger in, Jane joined him, sitting about a foot away.

“What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Nothing specific. It’s just that this room has been where a few important things have happened, over the years. I figured it’d be a good idea to spend a few moments more here, just in case it helps you.”

Jane looked around the room, seeing it in a new light. “I would have thought this is just the locker room.”

He inclined his head, smiling faintly. “Yeah, but this is where we start and end our work days, get ready for undercover missions, gear up before a raid. We’ve spent a lot of time together in here. Before we lived together, it’d be where we said good morning and goodnight. Sometimes we flirted in here. Sometimes we argued. Sometimes took a little time to get our heads on straight, after something bad happened.”

Jane nodded, seeing his point. “What were the most important things that happened here?”

He looked down at his hands for a second with a soft laugh, though there was pain behind it, too. Pain that I can’t remember. “Our second ever kiss happened there, around that corner.” He indicated the end of the next row of lockers.

Jane’s heart skipped at the thought. Her body still seemed to remember her husband, even if her mind didn’t. Their subtle chemistry was still there, even if she needed more time and experience with him to fall back in love—at least, assuming she never got her memories back.

“I feel like I should ask about our first kiss, before we get to the second,” she said, self-conscious at how shy she was with her own husband.

“The first… That was your idea. I came home from a grocery trip after work one night, and you’d snuck out of your safehouse without your protective detail. You were sitting on the bench outside the apartment building, trying to figure out if it was a good idea to go in and tell me how you felt. You didn’t know I wasn’t already inside, so you weren’t expecting to see me. I guess that’s why you just took a leap of faith and kissed me.”

Jane searched her memory in vain. The love in his eyes was something she desperately wished was meant for her, but it wasn’t. It was for the version of herself who remembered, who’d made that decision to make her feelings plain, all those years ago.

“Were you surprised?” she asked.

He paused, as though unsure how to answer the question. Fondness in his expression, he finally said, “Part of me was completely caught off guard. But another part of me just wasn’t surprised at all. Like my heart knew we were inevitable, but my brain just hadn’t accepted it yet.”

He really is the sweetest man.

“I wish I could remember. It sounds perfect,” she said, hoping he couldn’t tell how attracted to him she was right then.

“It was. Until my ten-year-old nephew came down to help me with the groceries, and interrupted us while we were making out on the sidewalk.”

Jane covered her face with her hands, laughing. “Oh, no. That must have been so embarrassing.”

“For us, yeah. For him? Not so much,” Kurt said wryly. “Anyway, life kind of got in the way, after that. A few misunderstandings, a few secrets, a lot of complications… But eventually, I felt like we were in a place where we could try again, so I found you at your locker and kissed you.”

Unsure what she might do if she remained sitting so close to him, Jane got up. “You said around this corner? I had a different locker back then?”

“Yeah.” He followed her to the row of lockers he’d indicated, and tapped his fingers against one of them. “This one was yours.”

Jane stood in front of the locker, running her hand over the door before looking around her—at everything but Kurt.

Was she blushing? This moment seemed so intense, even though she sensed no pressure from him. It wasn’t just that she was getting hot and bothered about the thought of kissing him—she only remembered knowing him for a few days, and she already felt as though she was falling for him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him break into a rueful grin as he leaned against the lockers. “This atmosphere between us right now…it’s pretty similar to how we were back then. I’ve almost missed it.”

Frowning, she looked up at him. “Almost?”

He gave a tiny shrug. “The uncertainty, the…not knowing if we should be stepping back, or if we were both on the same page… That, I haven’t missed.”

Jane nodded slowly, knowing it was irrational to feel guilty, but still unable to help herself. If she’d just kept clear of the ZIP, maybe Kurt wouldn’t be suffering so much. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” He stepped in closer, sliding his fingers up one side of her jaw to tilt her face up to his, insisting on eye contact. “This isn’t on you, Jane. Ivy did this to you. And you’re gonna find your way back—one way or another.”

She nodded, about to thank him, but then his smile widened. “Not gonna ask about the part I have missed?”

“What have you missed?” she asked softly.

“Watching you wonder if you should…or if I will…”

Jane caught her breath, captivated by the moment. He was right; all that mattered right now were those two questions—if she should close the gap between them and kiss him, or if Kurt planned to do it.

Her instinct told her he wouldn’t, though. He wouldn’t want to take advantage by initiating anything, not when she was struggling with everything she couldn’t remember.

She couldn’t remember, but she needed to know. How he kissed, what he tasted like, whether it might spark a reaction in her memory where nothing else had…

He wouldn’t, so she did, sliding her hand to the back of his neck and pulling him down to her. Their kiss was full of tempting discovery, yet also familiar and almost comforting, even as her body thrilled in response.

He was the only thing in the world she wanted more than her memories right now, and kissing him felt so damn vital—caring and seductive and just…right.

He was the only thing in her confusing, anxiety-provoking existence that she felt sure about, that she trusted, that she—

The sound of a door opening shattered the moment, startling them both into breaking apart.

“Oh, for god’s sake, you two. I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you’re back to making out in the locker room?” Tasha’s voice was exasperated, but her face was amused. “The more things change, the more they stay the same, huh?”

“Some things really don’t change,” Kurt said, speaking to Tasha, though his amused, frustrated, deliciously heated attention was still on Jane. “Like being interrupted every time we even think about a quiet moment alone.”

“You have a kid; you should be used to that.” Tasha came over and handed them each their coffee, while Jane tried not to sink into the ground in embarrassment. “By the way, when I called Patterson for her coffee order, she said she’s got something, so don’t take too long getting smoochy, okay?”

She’d left the locker room before Jane could formulate a response, and Kurt sighed, seeming unable to help but smile.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s really not the first time. By a long shot,” he added dryly.

Unsure how to react to that, Jane brushed her hair behind her ear, then cradled her coffee cup in both hands, focusing on the warmth. “I guess we should go catch up, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kurt leaned in and brushed his lips over her forehead, the gesture tender. “But hold that thought.”

Like I could think of anything else right now.

***

And one time she did remember…

The doctors had seemed reasonably confident that the stem cells that were already in Jane’s brain, administered last year when she’d been dying of ZIP poisoning, would counteract this batch of ZIP, too. They just couldn’t say how long it would take—or if her memories would return in their entirety.

It had been almost a week—one of the longest of Kurt’s life. Jane had been so much like the woman he remembered meeting five years ago that it had shattered his heart. His wife had fought so hard since that first night in the interrogation room—fought to regain her memories and to take ownership of who she’d once been, and to be a better person. Now all of that progress had been wiped away, and to see her return to the unsure, determined-yet-fragile state she’d been in when they’d first met was devastating.

Jane was suffering far more than he was, and he should be focusing on supporting her, but sometimes he needed a moment to just…hurt.

He stared out of the window of the unmarked van, wondering if their relationship would ever be the same again. There were too many unknown variables where ZIP was concerned. If he hadn’t known Dr. Roga was such a kind, ethical person, whose intentions had been to help people, he’d have cursed her name for inventing such a destructive drug.

“Hey.” Tasha touched his arm gently. “You’re brooding again. She’s gonna be fine, Kurt. It’s different this time.”

“I know.” He sighed, looking over at the passenger seat. “It’s just hard to see her like this. Like she used to be. Not that I didn’t love her back then, but…”

“I know,” she echoed. “She lost a lot, and so did we, because we lost part of Jane. But the docs are optimistic, right? All we can do is concentrate on Ivy for now.”

He took the not-so-subtle hint, surveying the world past the windshield once more. Glancing over at Tasha, who wore a beret and large sunglasses with her long auburn wig, he asked, “You think this intel is good?”

“God, I really hope so. I just want to find every last drop of the ZIP, denature it, make sure no one ever knows how to make more. I don’t want to freak Jane out by saying it in front of her, but that stuff scares the shit out of me.”

“Me, too.” And Jane most of all, before she was actually exposed to it again.

Times Square was just about visible if they craned their necks. They’d finally caught a break and intercepted some genuine communications between Ivy and some of her subordinates, suggesting that the place Jane had crawled out of a duffel bag five years ago would be the same place the attack went down.

Either Ivy found Jane’s ordeal fascinating, or she was taunting them.

Kurt, Tasha and Jane were taking turns scoping out the area, wearing different disguises every time, looking for anything that stood out as suspicious. Patterson and Rich were surveilling the area by digital means, and they were all hoping like hell that they could catch a break before ten p.m.—the time the bomb was scheduled to detonate.

It was just starting to get dark, and Kurt had finally eased up enough to let Jane take a turn at recon. She’d complained of a moderate headache earlier in the day, which had led to him calling the hospital to check he didn’t need to rush Jane back in. The consultant had wanted to wait a few days, telling him the headaches could even be a good thing, a sign that Jane’s system was working to clear the ZIP.

They had an appointment in a few days, but Kurt was still feeling overprotective. Ivy and the Dabbur Zann didn’t care about his worries, however, and even with a headache, Jane’s instincts in the field were better than most agents’. He’d reluctantly allowed her to come along, though the idea of Jane in the proximity of more ZIP terrified him.

“There she is.” Tasha indicated the woman with a honey brown ponytail and baseball cap, wearing a Yankees hoodie and jeans. They’d all gotten good at disguising themselves while they were on the run.

Kurt frowned. “Looks like she might have spotted something.”

Jane was walking quickly, her head down and hands in her pockets, but something about her demeanour didn’t strike him as her usual case-related urgency. Making sure his beanie and sunglasses were in place, he got out of the van and headed out to meet her.

She spotted him and broke into a jog over the final few yards that separated them, a radiant, joyful smile on her face. Before he could process that, she was right there in front of him, both hands reaching up to cradle his jaw as she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Despite how much he wanted to let the moment linger, he was too confused to do anything but gently pull back. “Jane, what—?”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it to the front of her hoodie, her eyes shining. “You’re my starting point.”

Stunned by the strength of his relief, he drew her closer. “You remembered?”

“I remembered everything, Kurt. I wasn’t even trying; I was just walking through Times Square, looking for anything out of place, and suddenly it was like this pressure in my head was just gone, and it’s all…all back.”

It seemed too good to be true. As Tasha joined them, he scrambled to make sense of his thoughts. “You remembered all of it?”

“Everything. But it’s not gonna last long if we don’t find Ivy soon.”

“This is great, Jane,” Tasha said, her body radiating tension, “but we should celebrate later. Did you notice anything? Maybe your memory was triggered by something you didn’t realise you saw?”

Jane shook her head. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I think it was coincidence that it happened at that moment—like the doctor said, the headaches were a symptom of the cure working again, in a way. But when it all came back, I was a little stunned, not really processing anything. Which is why I came back here.”

Tasha gave her a quick smile. “It’s cool. I’ve got it. You guys should get back in the van, just in case.”

Before either of them could respond, she began power-walking in the direction of Times Square, straightening her beret as she went.

Jane sighed, anxiety overshadowing her happiness. “She’s right. We should get back in the van.”

Kurt nodded. “Come on.”

They activated their comms for long enough to update Rich and Patterson, then—at an amused reminder from Patterson—de-activated them again, so they could talk while they waited for news.

“So, if you remember everything… What do I think of pineapple on pizza?” he asked, lacing his fingers through Jane’s.

“You’re a fan,” Jane said, her smile only lasting for a second or two. “Ask me something else, before I can think too hard about what Ivy is planning for tonight.”

He squeezed her hand. “What did Rich insist on calling the bunker in Prague?”

“Archie.” Jane rolled her eyes, though her expression was fond.

Kurt wished like hell that they could just forget about the Dabbur Zann, go home, celebrate the return of Jane’s memories. But Ivy had to be stopped, so he pushed the thought away, watching for Tasha in the distance.

“What’s Patterson’s first name?” he asked, keeping up the distraction.

“William.” Jane rested her head on Kurt’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Just…a little afraid to hope that we’ll get lucky with stopping this attack. It seems like ZIP is our Achilles’ heel.” He kissed her hair reassuringly. “But I’m fine. A hell of a lot better now your memories are back. We’ll get this over with and put Ivy behind bars, where she belongs.”

“We will. And then we’ll go home and sleep for a week.”

“I was thinking maybe a month.”

They shared an amused moment, then lapsed into quiet.

Kurt took a breath before speaking again. “I know you were trying to do damage control when you shut me out of that room. That it wasn’t just me you were protecting. But…”

He didn’t even know how he wanted to finish the sentence. Don’t ever shut me out of a room when you might be dying, ever again. Don’t throw yourself in harm’s way as though your life is worth less than mine, or anyone else’s. Stop scaring the hell out of me like this. I can’t lose you again. I can’t.

As though she could read his mind, she just nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t get out through the door on the other side, and it was too late for me by the time you got there. If I could have gotten clear in time…”

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She turned her face to his for a slow, reaffirming kiss. “We can do this. And then—assuming we’re not thrown in jail or something—we can do whatever we want.”

Kurt had a list of ideas a mile long, but before he could open his mouth, their comms came to life. Tasha’s voice was taut with stress. “Guys, get over here. I think I’ve found the bomb.”

Immediately, Jane pulled off her cap, wig and oversized hoodie, shedding her disguise and revealing her bulletproof vest. The time for subterfuge was over. “On our way, Tasha.”

She glanced at Kurt. “You ready?”

Kurt had already taken off his beanie and sunglasses, and was turning the key in the van’s ignition. “Ready for this to be over? You have no idea.”

They shared a swift, urgent kiss, then Kurt hit the gas as Jane looped Patterson and Rich into their comms connection.

They’d been on the defence with Ivy for too damn long. It was time to finish this, and to reclaim the lives Madeline Burke and the Dabbur Zann had tried to steal from them.

Their time had come.

END.

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairings: Yamazaki Susumu/Kimigiku, Background Toshisami Rating: M Summary: Yamazaki sees all and knows all...until he finds out he's missed a couple of very obvious things. Written for hakusaitosan. [AO3] (There’s some slight spice in this but nothing overly graphic.)

A Moment of Clarity

When Hijikata’s hips swayed out in an unnatural manner upon standing, Yamazaki was instantly upon his feet as well. “Fukucho.” Serious eyes slid to Kondo as he steadied his second by the shoulders. “Kyokucho, may I inquire where you intend to go?”

Kondo laughed. Why had he laughed? As Yamazaki’s brows drew inward, he felt the large hand of his commander warmly touch his shoulder. “Always on duty, aren’t you, Yamazaki-kun?”

Hijikata hiccupped and jabbed a finger toward him. “See, that’s why this one’s my favorite, Kat-chan. Along with Saito over there. Attention to detail, love it.”

Concern was clearly present in the ninja’s gaze as he looked between both men. Kondo seemed to be more sober than Hijikata, but by how much, he couldn’t accurately judge and any margin of error was unacceptable when it came to ensuring their safety.

Kondo appeared to pick up on his unrest. “Yamazaki-kun, I promise you we’ll be okay.”

“Guaranteed.” Hiccup.

“Toshi and I have something to talk about.” …Why had Hijikata snorted at that moment? “So look, please go sit down and enjoy the night out. How often is it that you get to unwind at Shimabara?”

‘…and not be here undercover,’ Kondo hadn’t added, but Yamazaki was quite sure he’d seen the notion reflecting in those golden eyes. Or maybe his ever-paranoid and racing mind had just filled in the blanks. Whatever the case, the point was moot in the present.

“Kondo-kyokucho, I must insist—”

“For fuck’s sake, Yama-chan!” A heavy arm slung about his shoulders out of nowhere, and then came the offensive assault of sake breath as Okita invaded his personal space. “Try reading the room, mm?”

“There is nothing to read,” Yamazaki shot back, making no effort to conceal his disgust while ducking away from the unwelcome contact. He glared with disapproving eyes, darkened only further by chagrin. “The safety of the commander and vice commander is my top priority tonight. It should also be yours.”

Okita’s eyes were half-lidded as he peered, unamused, at a far wall. “Yama-chan, it’s amazing, really. You and Hajime-kun both have the observational ability of a rock at times.”

Saito kept his eyes closed as he sipped his sake, either not hearing or caring about the criticism. That couldn’t have been further from the truth with the other half in question.

The nerve! The audacity! The…the absolute insolence! Yamazaki thought his blood might boil. “Saito-san is one of the most observant individuals I have ever met. Do not dare speak ill of him.”

All Okita offered in reply was his signature mischievous laugh, the one that so expertly and arrogantly grated the nerves. “You know that Kondo-san and Hijikata-san are long gone by now?”

A hiss fell from Yamazaki when he whipped around, confirming that his superior officers had, indeed, taken their leave. “I must—!”

“Nope.” Okita grabbed Yamazaki’s arm, pulling him back just before he sprinted through the closed shoji. “You really don’t.” Without a second more of wasted time, he shoved his mouth right next to the ninja’s ear.

And into it, without an iota of sugarcoating, he whispered something.

Yamazaki’s eyes went wide. He shot an incredulous, nearly offended, look in response.

Another obnoxiously gleeful laugh rang out. “Yep! That’s right. Let that little factoid simmer a little in your brain.” Okita finally released him and chuckled openly as he flopped back on his zabuton. “Hajime-kun, look!” He gave a slap to the shoulder. “It’s you finding out all over again.”

Saito’s torso swayed in response to the contact, but he simply continued drinking without a sound. However, he opened his eyes at last and simply dropped his chin once in Yamazaki’s direction: a confirmation.

He went motionless. Didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His heart might have even stopped.

Toudo-kun and Nagakura-san were laughing loudly at something. Spinning and dizzying, the room suddenly was. Hot. Too hot. Too many voices, too much going on.

Yamazaki had to leave. And yet, he couldn’t move as the pieces started falling in place.

Kondo-kyokucho and Hijikata-fukucho?

…What?!

~

“Well, well, well, well.” The shoji slid closed.

Yamazaki hadn’t even bothered to turn toward the voice; he knew to whom it belonged and if he were entirely honest—by the by, he was always entirely honest—seeing her right now seemed to be a horrible idea. His brain almost always classified it as such, but the present felt even more dangerous than usual.

And yet…

“Who have we here, all by his lonesome?”

Kimigiku’s ornate kimono came into peripheral then full view as she gracefully assumed seiza across the way. She dressed expensive, smelled expensive. The fabric wrapped about her tall figure was adorned with violet and pink flowers, the golden stitches glittering in candle warmth. And her hair, intricately swept up to expose fully the beauty of her features, left her face much too soft for an individual of her caliber.

…of her real nature and real profession.

Yamazaki, sitting in seiza himself, closed his eyes in defiance. He had enough on his plate.

“No interest in conversation tonight, Yamazaki-san?” she sang softly, reaching for the sake and holding it toward his half-filled cup. To get his attention, she said, “Here. Have more.”

His lashes parted slightly at first, and then all the way. The flat, broad edge of the cup met his lips and he tossed his head back to down the smooth alcohol, then he jabbed the vessel toward her. A mumble followed. “Thanks.”

Sake trickled from the carafe, and Yamazaki studied her hands; they carried the pretense of being delicate and non-lethal. Unbelievable.

“Please enjoy.”

He was in no mood for her mind games now, and cut right through to the assumed conclusion. “I am away from the others because I wished for solitude.”

Kimigiku placed the sake down. “I did not pry for your reasons, Yamazaki-san.”

His brow furrowed with a scowl. Bringing the cup back to his face, Yamazaki studied it before swallowing its entirety. He attempted to reach for the carafe to pour his own drink but Kimigiku was faster—as always.

“You are an attentive shinobi, Yamazaki-san,” she said while tending to his next round. “Perceptive, vigilant.” When finished, Kimigiku sat back on her feet. “Committed, loyal. Vigilant. For a human, it is impressive. I have told you this once before.”

“I did not pry for your empty compliments.” A beat. “Kimigiku-san.”

“All of this,” she continued, unfazed by his mockery, “and yet you still fail to comprehend the ties that bind.”

His eyes shot to hers, knowing damn well he needed to be even more on point than ever with alcohol involved. Yamazaki’s tolerance was high, but one could never be too careful. “What are you speaking of?”

“Romance.” It was plainly stated. And when Yamazaki’s gaze averted, she moved only a breath closer to the edge of her zabuton. “You are a samurai and yet you do not know that the purest love is said to be shared between samurai?”

“Do not lecture me in bushido,” Yamazaki snapped, immediately finding her eyes and not concealing the fury her nerve inspired.

“Then why are you here alone, brooding over your commanders?”

Kimigiku’s directness had a deep stripe of blush lighting his skin from ear to ear and it made him instantly incapable of maintaining visual contact. His lips parted but no words left him, and thus, he opted to drink deeply again. When the cup lowered, she was poised, offering the next serving.

He wasn’t brooding; he was just…shocked. And disturbed. And put off, and disappointed, and maybe even furious. And none of these emotions had anything to do with Hijikata-fukucho being romantically involved with Kondo-kyokucho, or vice-versa. They had nothing to do with the fact that those same individuals were apparently in some room in this very building exalting each other in the fashion keenly specific to bonded samurai.

No, these unpleasant and unwelcome feelings Yamazaki felt were entirely aimed at himself. He was supposed to be the stalwart watchdog: the eyes and ears, the all-knowing one of the Shinsengumi. Information was the greatest asset, just as important as blades and armor, but if Kimigiku could so easily be privy to the relationship his own commanders shared when he’d had no idea, Yamazaki wondered how such a fact could have slipped right beneath his nose?

They’d lived under the same roof for so long, eaten meals together, washed up at the well together. Why had he had to learn it from Okita? Did that mean Toudo-kun knew? Harada-san, Nagakura-san? Sannan-soucho? Surely, Inoue-san knew then. And what of Shimada?

His fists tightened. How could he not have recognized it? What else was he not aware of? What more did Kimigiku know that he should?

Yamazaki pushed the sake she offered away and placed his cup down. Like hell would he express any of this to her, or anyone at all for that matter. “Leave me.” It was a cold command. “I wish to be alone.”

Kimigiku’s hand remained in the place it had been pushed and her eyes bore through him. A challenge?

“Do not believe you are capable of reading me so easily.”

She stared him down for a moment longer before a breathy laugh left her lips. Her shoulders relaxed as the sake was set down on the tray and her hand retreated along the tatami, sweeping over it deliberately before it came to rest on her thigh.

“Reading you. Yamazaki-san, I have done no such thing tonight. You wear your thoughts openly.” A beat. “But perhaps, it is the opposite. Perhaps, I am wishing for you to read me, even at this very moment. Why do you suspect I have come to you, now or at any other time?”

He remained without movement, as if his bones were comprised of rock.

Red lips pulled into a smile, one which he recognized as carrying a double meaning. “You spend your days watching, observing. But clearly, there are some things you will never understand, even when they are right before your very eyes.”

“Leave.”

Kimigiku’s hands pressed to the tatami and she pushed herself to her feet. Those hands, once again all too elegant, took hold of the upper cuff of her kimono and pushed one end off her shoulder. Yamazaki’s eyes went wide when he watched her reach behind and undo the ties, allowing the fabric to slacken about her body.

“What…?” he rasped. “What are you—?!”

The luxurious garment fell to her feet, puddling there as if it were a rag. Yamazaki leapt to stand as Kimigiku continued disrobing and pulling at her underclothes until no details were left to the imagination.

He stood there: speechless and frozen, incapable of rational thought, let alone spoken word.

Breasts. Her toned waist, the curvature of her hips and thighs and the neatly groomed hair covering what lay between.

Yamazaki’s lips opened, his mouth dry. He wanted to turn around, wanted to leave, wanted to—stop lying to himself.

Kimigiku lifted her hands and began to pull at the baubles and pins setting her hair. Locks and curls tumbled carelessly, spilling about her shoulders, her breasts, falling over her back.

“Oni are not reserved like human women.” She stepped out from the pile of adornments, lantern light dancing over her naked body. “We are not inclined to hide what we own, when we wish to put it on display.”

His chest rose and fell, undulating like storm-time ocean waves.

“Is it obvious now, Yamazaki-san?” Kimigiku asked, approaching him and taking his hand. She placed it on her breast, covered the back of it with her own, and pressed it to her soft skin. “Can you understand? Or must this humble courtesan…” Her lips twitched. “…also use her mouth, so soon?”

“You—,” It was all Yamazaki managed to grate out, a gravelly and parched word before the taste of Kimigiku flooded his senses. Her scent, her touch, the sound of her voice, the sensation of a palm pressing against the dark trousers he feared would rip from how tight they’d become.

She was no woman, no lady, no normal courtesan.

She was dangerous, too knowledgeable, too rogue. A demon, a rival, a possible enemy.

Yamazaki’s eyes rolled back.

And now she was pulling the clothes from his body.

They fell naked and entwined to the tatami, the firelight flickering from the movement, and neither making any move for the futon closet.

Because it had to be now.

Because if Yamazaki pulled himself from Kimigiku at this moment, he might have realized the mistake, the threat. He might have begun overthinking, might have run into the safety of a dark corridor. And if he ran, if he stopped her now, he might have forever lived with a regret he could never absolve himself of.

Kimigiku’s lips trailed down his stomach, her muscular arms snaking beneath his thighs and pulling them apart, giving her prime position to take his cock in her mouth. And without so much a moment of teasing, the action drew forth a sound from Yamazaki that he deemed unrecognizable.

This was real. It was happening.

She wanted him. For how long? A night, a year of nights, it didn’t matter. He wanted her. For how long? …Perhaps it was so long that it nearly made him ache? No.

This was forbidden, star-crossed as the foreigners said. It could never, would never work. They were rivals, enemies, oni and human. But also shinobi with conviction. And there they were now.

Those enchanting hands found Yamazaki’s, giving them purchase of something so not to break his own skin with how tightly he’d been clenching his fists. Kimigiku continued to hold them as she, a demon of countless expertise, continued demonstrating just how multi-talented she truly was.

The world went white, static rang in his ears. Veils fell into ash, unbreakable walls collapsed to dust. And in this state of seeing and hearing nothing other than the truth and nothing less, Yamazaki found the clarity he’d coveted after all this time—even if only for a moment.

Desires and needs, curiosities and musings, the deepest yearnings in his mind.

Kimigiku had been there all along.

And like many other things, Yamazaki had known. He’d just chosen not to see.

He opened his eyes. Shimabara had beautiful ceilings, not that he thought about them for long.

[gizmosisbuttons]

Episode 4 was a fandom wide callout post.

all you fools too busy being pissed bc Coran went all show crazy and basically re-characterized the paladins to what the masses found entertaining, to notice that the entire episode was literally a fandom wide call out post. they literally called us out guys. 

lets go over the list of things Coran said/did in ep 4 and compare them shall we?

let me preface this by saying he literally wasn't himself and i still love him just as much as before, my gorgeous man.

”I worked up very specific personas for each of you. This is going to help the audience connect on a much deeper level with each team member.” 

as if they didn't already have defining personalities that make them very likable and awesome? sounds familiar right? its one thing to speculate and theorize based on what we know about a character especially if we don’t know a lot about said character. the writers put a lot of time and effort into developing these characters and even said during an interview once that one of the things that bugged them about og Voltron was that the only properly developed character was Keith. the other guys didn't get a chance to be loved. and that was what they aimed to do, to give every paladin and character the chance to be loved. since the beginning the fandom has been bad at this. taking one teeny trait from each character and twisting them so that the only thing that matters is that trait. 

         “lover-boy lance”

throughout the series lance is known  to flirt with...pretty much every cute alien girl. of course. hes handsome, charming, girls love him. Coran wipes away all of the actually relatable things about his personality in favor of this charming flirt who would win over girls. Lance is insecure, he’s witty, he is the freaking sharpshooter, the teams sniper and their glue. he’s voltrons right hand now for a reason. he got into the garrison which is a military space exploration base, not just anyone gets in. hes incredibly intelligent and a great pilot. amazing really. bc simulations are always absolutely terrible and rarely help. oh yea, and hes charming.but god forbid anyone forget that hes a flirt. who cares about the other stuff that will actually help the audience connect with him. 

        “science wiz pidge” 

its no secret that pidge is incredibly intelligent. she is one of the characters who haven't gotten their developing points until this season. in one of the first flashbacks we learned she nearly gave up studying because some kid decided to be a dick and bully her. Matt pulled her out of it and encouraged her to work hard. later on in ep 4 coran says that her science doesn't need to be factually correct because noone will understand her either way. he undermined her intelligence because . well. noone cares what she says as long as it sounds smart. fanfic writers do this a lot. like. a lot. i understand that you may not have the same knowledge that the girl who hacked herself into a military school base undercover at he age of 14-15 (if the theory that the garrison is a high school program is correct) because she had gotten banned for sneaking in and hacking into the computer system, but if you really do insist on focusing her on her smarts, do some research. no to mention. pidge may be the youngest, but she really is more than science and calculations. shes intelligent yes, but she can hold her own in battle (at the age range of 15-17 with no prior battle training), shes afraid of the possible reality that all her efforts are wasted and Matt and Sam are dead, she is actually pretty social with the paladins (she can even be seen hanging out in the kitchen while hunk makes glass cookies.) and beyond her intelligence, shes wise. shes not just random science facts, she knows how to hold her own in situations outside of battle and books. shes street smart. 

       “lone wolf keith”

now i know this was said to allura, and ill get to that. but if the keith vlog showed us anything, its that  hes not just a moody loner teenager.  i am very guilty of this myself. i portray keith as a human disaster. we don’t know hen he was left alone, we don’t really know much of his story. i head canon that his dad left him to fend for himself but every month woul drop off food or money or something. i head canon hes terrible about taking care of his body. but at least i don’t call him moody and move on.  i give him a background to fill in the blank space, but sometimes i forget and focus too much on his folded arms and  pouty face. he smiles. he laughs. hes an actual precious bean.  but hes also afraid of being pushed away. hes guarded and does his best to be strong. he hides his feelings and protects his heart with everything he has. (geez boi who hurt you). he is not the human embodiment of “teenagers” by mcr. aka he has feelings too. not to mention he also got into the garrison, and was the top pilot regardless of how he got in, if it happened to be by recommendation like most people think. 

      “humourous hunk”

as a hunk stan this one annoys me the most. throughout the episode hunk is consistently embarrassed, and even protests the fart noises, fart jokes, etc. he is purposely tripped for laughs. the fandom forgets that hes not just the fat funny guy, or just the personal chef. hes overcome so much since babies first lion flight, he used to get sick, constantly had to be the voice of reason to keep his teammates out of trouble,  he is just as intelligent as pidge and is actually one of the only people that can keep up with her science stuff. keith and lance even stated that they didnt understand anything they'd said. hes a fantastic engineer even if he had a few tummy mishaps. hes an amazing pilot too, and extremely sassy. he and pidge probably rigged the game console to work in space, And hes pretty friendly and cautious. he is NOT meant to be the comic relief. (say it louder for people in the back)

     “shiro the hero”

a lot of the fandom has taken to calling shiro daddy, sexualizing him (”now put on this tight shirt”) and focusing on shiro and only shiro (shiros the “favorite character” of corans little show). hes great. he really is. and the man needs a break. voltron is a kids show. he isnt meant to  be sexualized, none of them are. hes more than his arms and his leadership abilities. the biggest issue i have with the whole shiro thing. regardless of if hes a clone, when shiro returned he cut his hair differently, and wore short sleeves. everyone i know, including me, said they'd be fine with the clone if he had kept his hair long and “as much as i love the arm view” and didnt change his outfit. its a kid show. his body shouldn't matter.i am also guilty of this, and ep 4 opened my eyes to it. coran lifted shiros arm as if to prove that thats what the audience really wanted. he treats shiro differently bc hes the real star here and everyone should know it. ofc, hes the black paladin. (i wonder where the whole “the black paladin is the only one who really matters here” mindset came from. looking @ u ‘84). shiros may have ptsd, and hes constantly trying to hold himself together for his team, and its obviously not easy. maybe thats why hes got a cute white floof. the stress. 

      alluras erasure  

another point that always bugged me. the fandom either forgets allura exists, or that she is just stealing lances place temporarily. Allura is the blue paladin. while keith is gone, she is not filling in. shes a paladin now too. for coran to call her keith, and constantly call her keith, even though she obviously has a few choice words to say about it, its distrespectful. she says his plan is working and he replies with “why thank you keith...i like to keep you in character” once again, erasing her existence. now im not as well versed in this particular topic, but id like you to keep in mind that he talks to his princess with that mouth, and that she IS the princess and not a fill in while keith leads. feel free to elaborate on this more. 

     coran “fires “ team voltron. 

this. i find extremely entertaining. remember that legal trouble last year bc of the leaks? and right around that time the klance shipper started threatening them if they didn't make it gayer and put keith and lance together? the  fandom, who wanted all of this to happen their way, were threatening to get it cancelled and such just because things didnt go their way. shiro, the leader, disagreed with coran and tries to shut him down. and coran in fit of rage says:

you're a bunch of quitters! quitters! i’m a visionary! i have thoughts, ideas, i dont need you anyway. ill rewrite the show, get rid of the whole lot of you, replace you with new paladins! and the show will be better than ever before!...except for you shiro, ill never get rid of you, you're our most popular character!

this is essentially what the fandom was saying. now, was this definitely their plan, to call us out with this bit, in not sure, but honestly, its almost too coincidental.

the writers have made it clear that they heard us, and have always been listening. and really, thats why i love ep4. you're angry because you know you got called out but haven't admitted it to yourself. the writers do their best to bring us the best show possible, but they cant satisfy everyone. why cant we just be happy about Actual Meme (tm) Matt, and look forward to season five instead of fighting them because we got our shit handed right back to us. weve gotten a  taste of our own medicine, so chill. i enjoy them keeping us on our toes, surprising us with every turn, theyre great writers.who cares if one or two things pissed you off? we both know youre not gonna stop watching.

[adobecharacter-blog]

Using the Bone Tool in Adobe Flash

A puppet is a figure of a person or other living being frequently constructed with jointed limbs, suitably painted and costumed, and moved usually on a stage by a pole or by hand from below or by strings or wires. It is usually controlled by an external force and its movement isn't inherent but is caused. Puppets are utilized to entertain in lots of actual people.

Using puppets has a lengthy history. Greeks were the first ones. Producing such shows was expensive, and considering that Greeks were fond of theatrical props, puppets were employed to take the place of actors. Puppets were made to resemble real characters and their movements are due to manipulating wires the sticks or strings.

Kinds of Puppets

The first sort of puppet is that the puppet which controlled and is typically suspended by a range of strings. Another kind is that the hand puppet, which is controlled by one hand that occupies the puppet's inside. A Ticklebug is a four-legged puppet, similar to a hand puppet by drawing attributes on the hand 21, but made. Black light puppet is lit only with black lighting with both hides the puppeteer and enriches this puppet's colours.

Other kinds are the Bunraku which originated from Japan; the Ventriloquist dummy; the Rod puppet which is very similar to a marionette; however, is operated by a pole instead of strings; the Marotte that's a simplified rod puppet that is merely a head and/or body on a pole; a Shadow puppet which is a 2-dimensional rod puppet that operated behind a display and a light source projected in the rear produces a shadow of the puppet on the screen that may be seen from the audience; the Water Puppetry which is native to Vietnam; the Wayang which is an undercover puppet; the Human-Arm Puppet or a Two-Man Puppet that's somewhat like a hand puppet but is larger and requires two puppeteers; the BuDaiXi that's a Chinese puppet series; the Digital Puppet that's a digitally animated figure; along with the Finger Puppet which is little type that just fits onto a single finger.

Want to make money with digital photography? Want your very own Photographic small business? Its wedding photography, keep reading to discover other ways of earning money and begin your own business! Here's a list of those 10.

Your very own digital, photography based, home business could begin here...

* Matchbooks. Parties, parties, birthdays, firework parties, barbecue supplies. Listed below are a sample. Or add to your ever growing lists of items. I understand people don't smoke in bars, pubs and the like anymore, but a book of matches to take home and outside, is a great advertising tool for a lot of businesses.

* Memo Pads. Memo pads are another marketing ploy, such as above, or how about the souvenir market? A good deal of small tradesmen and girls would adore a reasonably priced memo pad, that had their own name and phone number, but a striking image of these, or their vehicle. To give to their customers.

* Napkin Rings. Napkin rings, for the entertainer. Restaurants, or weddings, parties. Plenty of people would pay above store costs for an unusual gift such as this.

* Tins. Tins are everywhere, not just the obvious biscuit, flour. But other kinds of valuables, storage, old letters, old coins, nick-knacks, pencils and pens, artificial blossoms. What about the tins that seem like meals, but are? You can (no pun) get, blank tins, or just about recycling?

* Stick Puppets. Stick puppets are excellent toys, hours of enjoyment for adults (who would not like to find some politicians on a pole?) , or kids, (their mum and dad, pets, friends). You can print sticky prints that are back out to put onto card & sticks, or offer the support for individual pictures. Again gifts, souvenirs Stick to it and you may make a home business that is fantastic!

* Old Photos. A great deal of people find old photos intriguing. You've got the ones of towns and cities that a hundred decades back and the style photos. You can recreate this using a view that capture the picture doesn't contain anything contemporary and turn it to a sepia print, either digitally or with a print kit. Apart from enlargements as souvenirs, they also make great postcards. There are expensive franchises for victorian portrait businesses now, the specific same prints can be made on your computer or from kit. In the event that you desired, with clothing to change into, the portrait service could be offered by you, you pick.

* Mosaics. There are artists today who make a living producing mosaics, from photos or art. And there is great software that can do it to you. Mosaics make advertising. So put on, personalizing, or company? Do you know any contractors? A mosaic of their assumptions would look good on boards, cards,letterheads.

* Mobiles. Folks make a fantastic living making products. You see the advertisements in bulletin board or the ward and lets face it there is not a great deal while daddy is waiting to make an appearance to read! Mobiles make great gifts.

* Mugs. One of the most popular advertising medias around, they are with every image on these. Narrow focus on classes that are smaller, the market, individuals buy everything that represents their hobby or fire. I will not even begin a list here, you understand exactly what I mean... oh alright, golf, fishing, football, horses, cats, dogs, ducks, wallabies, centipedes, OK I am getting sarcastic!

Decision Shopping Bags. You'll have fun with them, they are great for humor, you know a photograph, or animation of a worn out guy, with the caption 'I store, '' he drops'. Or political such as ' **** occurs, and thus don't vote Labour.' Or your view of this town, or what ever picture. Look out for special occasions, they may need bags. Examine the bags around you, where do you think you can improve, or do they give you ideas? .

This is simply to get your brain and your creative juices going! The internet has opened up an never ending need of everything and anything. Stock photography has changed, gone are the exceptionally skilled, large format shots of models and beaches, that needed to be technically perfect, well they aren't gone, but they are not the only opportunities for aspiring photographers who want to make a living with their hobby, their own fire. Pictures which you wouldn't believe started life up anywhere and the capability is available to everyone, and in the comfort of their own home.

A children have toy for parents who wish to develop their child's technical and creative skills. Following is a list of 9 trendy camera projects for your photographer.

1. About Me Journal

Your youngster will love taking photos of their objects themselves and their environment. Print off these images and blend them into an "About Me" Journal. An alternative to this is to make a "My Day" Journal about a unique day, or even a special outing.

(Photo tip: The Vtech Kidizoom Spin and Smile makes shooting self portraits a breeze. Rotate the lens towards you to see yourself on the camera display)

2. Photo Puzzle

Just take this photo of a loved one, print it off, stick it onto card or laminate it, cut it and you've got a quick and easy to make puzzle gift!

3. What Can I?

There'll be some excellent and some not so good pictures in your children's photo library. Using present photos or by taking new photographs, get your child to challenge you to play the "Mystery Object" match to guess the name of the object in the picture.

Among the best things about After Effects is whether you can create animations that are intricate, It's used for some of the most famous Hollywood character cartoons we understand, You May Also create simple, helpful and Usable animations on your first moment.

Learning procedure or any new instrument, it is valuable to establish that the 'fundamentals', the fundamental tools that form the building blocks for this particular tool and in After Effects or any timeline based animation tool, the basics are layers and stopwatches.

What are 'stopwatches' ? Stopwatches are the point and click tool that you use to identify a place at which quality or a specific event is set, the icons. When you 'click' a stop watch you are creating a keyframe on the timeline for that property. When this event will take place, you are telling your animation. The easiest example is place. You have an animated ball, a ball that is bouncing. At position and time 0, the commencement of your animation is on a ledge. It is nudged off. 1 second, your ball's place is half way to the ground, at 2 minutes, it strikes the floor it is so on and back in the atmosphere from a bounce.

Your 'stopwatch' is the tool you use to place those keyframes, to 'lock in' a new value for the characteristic that that you are animating, in this scenario, the ball's job. At every specifying or second event above, you click on your stopwatch beside your position feature, and the position value is listed for that moment. When you play your animation back, you see the values you specified played out to the rankings you defined at the exact time you recorded.

Using After effects text animation is one of the basic tools in logo animation. When it comes to media cartoon among the design choices and which tool is best for the task depends on your logo is primarily text and can be represented with a text application whether the animations that are available for text.

Let us first look at how you would go about animating your logo if it is largely a text symbol with a few graphic highlights. One of the most effective set of presets from the Adobe is your text animations. Just about everything you can imagine, what you've observed from text tumbling to sliding in to colors, from 1 side or another and luminous can be obtained as a text preset.

Use the text tool to create your logo text, picking your font. Create. Directly across in the text 'twirl down' arrow would be the 'Animate' attribute with it's twirl down pair of animate features. Pick 'position' . You will instantly see a component Digital Puppets under your text, 'Animator 1' using it's own place component and a 'Range Selector'. Twirl open the range selector to view 'start', 'end', and 'cancel' options, each with it's own stopwatch suggesting that every property can be animated.

We know about 'a picture says a thousand words'. For a quick illustration to realize how simple it's to prepare an animation using these basic configurations, place the range selector to it's default values of 0 percent for Start, 100% for End, and 0% for Offset. Set the range selector position 0,-200 (0 for x cancel, -200 for y offset). This setting for y will position your text above your stage.

Click on the stopwatch at time '0', move your deadline to 3 seconds and move the Start value to 100%. Scrub the timeline then preview your animation. You will see your text decreasing 'out of the skies'. For one easy setting that will add another touch of diversity using a single switch, look under the 'Advanced' section of your Range Selector for 'Randomized Order' and click on this from off to on. When your characters chanced upon the stage, they appear. This is a really popular effect with television and movie introductions, commercials, and needless to say, web site logos.

Total Moons, Dogcreek, think globally, act locally. Online Designer Tom Womack uses Adobe Design Suite creating sites. Adobe is my application of choice using possibilities. I use Premiere Pro for video editing, Flash for final Web picture. I am on a learning curve that is constant and regularly update my media site.