#Between Dynamic and Static Pass Box
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dynamic-and-static-pass-box · 4 months ago
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Difference Between Dynamic and Static Pass Box
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This Static pass box, & dynamic pass box also known as cleanroom pass box are very important so as to control air enviornment which is used to pass materials from controlled region to non controlled region and to transfer materials in clean enviornment. As, cleanrooms are being more pricesly required for any pharmecutical operations or laboratories tests, which helps in effective and controlled working. In short this pass box play vital role of passing materials & air from non cleaned to cleaned enviornment. This pass boxes are genrally made up of stainless steel which is powdered coated.
The dynamic pass box have buit up features almost similar like having a UV lights, mechanical interlocking for the doors, fluroescent lamps made from stainless steel.
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nekioka · 1 year ago
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Seven is a lucky number: Year 1 - 1/3
Previous | First | Next
(Ramblings under the cut)
Finally! A new part! I finished drawing this ages ago but then I procrastinated with translating. Sorry about that!
This part is based on this Benny quote:
"When House gave us the Tops to renovate, his robots dropped off boxes full of suits and ties and wingtip shoes. --"
Well here getting the Tops and receiving boxes didn't happen simultaniously, some time has passed since events of previous comic. Nobody is even wearing necklaces anymore after what happened. And Benny's hair has grown longer. His style changed for three reasons: 1. It's more practical than the look he had in previous part. 2. I thought it would look cute. 3. You'll see later ;)
Boot Riders are now cleaning up the Strip. The other Families might or might not be there already. I'm undecided on that one. Any thoughts? But spoilers: they don't show up in this part.
Appreciate the first panel, it took ages to draw! Also appreciate the funny background event between panels 2 and 3.
While I was drawing original 'Seven is a lucky number' comic it bothered me that securitrons were so static. They aren't the most flexible robots but still their poses were just boring! So here I tried to make them bit more dynamic, best shown in panel where Benny and House dance. On unrelated note House is casually horrible with his "like civilized people" comment, Swank doesn't approve and neither do many other Boot Riders. Meanwhile Benny is too dazzled to care.
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brindapharma · 3 days ago
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Brinda Pharma Technologies – Your Partner in Cleanroom Excellence
In today's highly regulated industries, from pharmaceuticals and biotechnology to electronics and healthcare, the demand for meticulously controlled environments is paramount. At Brinda Pharma Technologies, we understand that maintaining absolute purity and preventing contamination are not just goals, but fundamental necessities for the success and safety of your operations.
As a leading Indian manufacturer and supplier of cleanroom equipment, Brinda Pharma Technologies is dedicated to providing cutting-edge solutions that meet the most stringent international standards. We pride ourselves on our deep industry knowledge, commitment to quality, and ability to deliver equipment that forms the very backbone of a compliant and efficient cleanroom facility.
The Brinda Pharma Technologies Advantage: Precision-Engineered for Purity
Our comprehensive range of cleanroom equipment is designed with one core purpose: to create and sustain environments free from particulate matter, airborne microbes, and chemical vapors. We leverage advanced manufacturing techniques and a meticulous approach to ensure every piece of equipment delivers superior performance and unwavering reliability.
Here's a glimpse into the essential products we engineer to elevate your operational purity:
Air Shower: Our state-of-the-art air showers are the first line of defense at your cleanroom entry points. They effectively remove surface contamination from personnel and materials, ensuring that only clean elements enter your controlled environment.
Pass Box (Static & Dynamic): Facilitating seamless and contamination-free material transfer, our pass boxes are indispensable. Whether you choose our static models or the enhanced dynamic versions with integrated HEPA filters and air showers, you can trust Brinda Pharma to prevent cross-contamination between different cleanroom classifications or from uncontrolled areas.
Laminar Air Flow (LAF) Units: We specialize in producing a variety of Laminar Air Flow (LAF) units, including vertical, horizontal, and mobile configurations. These units create an ultra-clean work zone by providing a continuous, unidirectional flow of HEPA-filtered air, essential for sensitive operations where product protection is critical.
Reverse Laminar Flow (RLF) Units / Dispensing Booths: Designed for optimal containment, our Reverse Laminar Flow units, also known as Dispensing Booths, are crucial for protecting both personnel and the surrounding environment during dispensing or weighing of hazardous materials. They achieve this by expertly drawing air away from the operator, ensuring safety.
Bio Safety Cabinets (BSCs): For laboratories and pharmaceutical facilities dealing with biological agents, our Bio Safety Cabinets offer robust protection for the product, personnel, and the environment. We engineer these cabinets with advanced HEPA-filtered airflow and containment principles to ensure maximum safety.
Fan Filter Units (FFUs): As fundamental components for maintaining precise cleanroom classifications, our Fan Filter Units continuously circulate and filter air within your cleanroom space. These modular units integrate high-efficiency fans with HEPA/ULPA filters for consistent air purity.
Garment & Storage Cabinets: Proper storage is key to preventing contamination. Our specialized garment and storage cabinets are designed to securely house cleanroom attire and other sterile items, ensuring they remain pristine until use.
De-Dusting Tunnels: For thorough pre-entry cleaning, our de-dusting tunnels are engineered to efficiently remove dust and particulate matter from objects or materials before they enter your cleanroom, contributing to overall environmental cleanliness.
Your Trusted Partner for Cleanroom Solutions
At Brinda Pharma Technologies, we are more than just manufacturers; we are your dedicated partners in achieving cleanroom excellence. We understand the critical nature of your operations and offer solutions that are not only compliant but also robust, efficient, and built to last. Our commitment to innovation means we are constantly evolving our product range to meet the dynamic needs of industries relying on controlled environments.
When you choose Brinda Pharma Technologies, you choose a legacy of quality, a commitment to precision, and a partner dedicated to elevating the purity and safety of your critical processes. Contact us today to discuss how we can help you build and maintain a world-class cleanroom facility.
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luckyqueenwitch · 2 months ago
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Static Pass Box Manufacturer in Ahmedabad
A static pass box is an essential cleanroom device designed to facilitate the transfer of materials between two areas of equal cleanliness classification, thereby minimizing the risk of cross-contamination. Unlike dynamic pass boxes, static pass boxes do not have built-in air filtration systems but rely on their sealed construction and interlocking mechanisms to maintain the integrity of the cleanroom environment. They are widely used in industries such as pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, electronics, and food processing, where maintaining a contamination-free environment is critical. Constructed from high-grade stainless steel (typically SS 304 or SS 316), static pass boxes feature a double-walled design with smooth, seamless interiors that are easy to clean and disinfect. The doors are equipped with electromagnetic or mechanical interlocking systems, ensuring that only one door can be opened at a time, thus preventing direct airflow between the two areas and maintaining pressure differentials. Tempered glass or polycarbonate view panels allow operators to see inside without opening the doors, further reducing the risk of contamination.​ Many static pass boxes come with additional features to enhance their functionality. UV germicidal lamps are commonly installed to sterilize the interior surfaces and any materials placed inside, with hour meters to monitor usage. LED lighting provides clear visibility within the chamber, and audible or visual alarms may alert users if a door is left open or if both doors are attempted to be opened simultaneously. Some models also include digital displays, buzzer indicators, and optional HEPA filters for added protection.​
 
For More Details Click Here: https://www.indiantradebird.com/product/static-pass-box
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labswas · 3 months ago
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We are reputed Static Pass Box manufacturer and suppliers, offering best cleanroom equipments. Static Pass Box is an enclosed, dust-free and airtight system which is actively used in clean rooms and laboratories to transfer materials between areas of the same cleanliness levels. Since a static pass box is inbuilt with UV light, it can easily disinfect bacteria.
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cssdtechnologies · 5 months ago
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Pass Box (Static and Dynamic) manufacturers
Instech Pharma is a leading manufacturers and suppliers of high-quality pass box in India, catering to industries including pharmaceutical and healthcare. Our product range features dynamic pass boxes and static pass boxes, both essential for maintaining contamination-free environments. A pass box plays a crucial role in clean rooms by enabling the safe transfer of materials between controlled areas, reducing cross-contamination risks.
Dynamic pass boxes are designed with a working principle that ensures air circulation, maintaining positive pressure and preventing pollutants. This makes them ideal for pharmaceutical applications where sterile conditions are paramount. Static pass boxes, on the other hand, are perfect for simpler transfer operations in controlled settings.
Website: https://www.pharmaceutech.com/pass-box-static-and-dynamic-manufacturers/
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faciletechnolab1 · 9 months ago
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A Comprehensive Exploration of 10 .NET 8.0 Enhancements Transforming the Blazor Ecosystem
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Dive into the future of web development with our in-depth analysis of 10 .NET 8.0, dissecting the groundbreaking improvements that have revolutionized the Blazor framework, propelling it to new heights of performance and functionality.
The latest release of .NET 8 brings significant additions and changes to ASP.NET Core. The most notable enhancements for this release of ASP.NET Core are related to the Performance and Blazor alongside the updates regarding the AOT, Identity, SignalR, Metrics and many more features.
Microsoft announced that ASP.NET Core in .NET 8 is the most performant released version so far, and as stated, when compared to .NET 7, ASP.NET Core in .NET 8 is 18% faster on the Techempower JSON benchmark and 24% faster on the Fortunes benchmark. Brennan Conroy wrote a blog post about Performance Improvements in ASP.NET Core 8 and readers are recommended to take a look into this.
1. Enhanced Navigation & Form Handling
Say goodbye to clunky page reloads! Blazor now intelligently updates the DOM with server-rendered content, resulting in seamless navigation and form interactions that feel like a native single-page application.
2. Choose Your Render Mode at Runtime
Need more flexibility? .NET 8.0 lets you dynamically switch between server-side and interactive render modes for individual components, giving you granular control over your app's behavior.
3. Streaming Rendering Preserves DOM
Blazor now paints components progressively, preserving existing DOM elements and avoiding unnecessary refreshes. This translates to blazing-fast performance and a more responsive user experience.
4. QuickGrid
Say Hello to Data Tables Made Easy: Forget about writing tons of boilerplate code for data grids. QuickGrid is a new built-in component that handles sorting, filtering, and pagination out of the box, making your life easier and your tables prettier.
5. Improved Authentication
Integrate authentication into your Blazor apps with greater ease thanks to built-in support for OpenID Connect and improved integration with Microsoft Identity Platform.
6. Razor Component Result
Generate static HTML content with your Blazor components! This opens up new possibilities for pre-rendering content and improving SEO.
7. Sections
Modular Layouts Made Simple: Define flexible content areas in your app layout with "Sections" and dynamically fill them with components. This promotes code reuse and keeps your layouts organized.
8. Jiterpreter for Blazor WebAssembly
Get ready for faster Blazor WebAssembly apps! The new Jiterpreter improves component execution speed, making your WebAssembly apps feel native and responsive.
9. Enhanced Routing with Named Elements
Route to specific elements within your Blazor pages using URL fragments, providing finer-grained control over navigation and deep linking.
10. Cascade Query String Values
Pass query string values directly to your Blazor components, simplifying data transmission and making your development workflow more streamlined. Bonus: Blazor Server Interactivity in Web Apps: While still in preview, this feature opens exciting possibilities for running interactive logic on the server for Blazor WebAssembly apps, potentially bridging the gap between the two models.
Ready to get blazing? These are just some of the amazing improvements that await you in .NET 8.0. So, upgrade your projects, explore these new features, and build the next generation of web applications that are fast, dynamic, and simply delightful to use.  
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catchy-technologies · 1 year ago
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Enhancing Cleanroom Efficiency with Pass Boxes
Introduction
In the dynamic world of cleanroom technology, maintaining a contamination-free environment is paramount. A crucial component that significantly contributes to this objective is the pass box. At Modular Clean Room India, we specialize in providing high-quality pass boxes designed to enhance the efficiency and safety of your cleanroom operations. Visit us at modularcleanroomindia.com to explore our comprehensive range of cleanroom solutions.
What is a Pass Box?
A pass box is a specially designed enclosure installed in cleanrooms to facilitate the transfer of materials between two controlled environments of different cleanliness levels. By using a pass box, you can minimize the risk of cross-contamination, thereby maintaining the integrity of your cleanroom.
Types of Pass Boxes
At Modular Clean Room India, we offer two primary types of pass boxes:
Static Pass Box:
Used for transferring non-living materials between cleanrooms or between a cleanroom and an uncontrolled environment.
Equipped with interlocking doors to prevent simultaneous opening, ensuring no contamination breach.
Dynamic Pass Box:
Designed for transferring both living and non-living materials.
Features a built-in HEPA filtration system that ensures air inside the pass box is constantly cleaned, reducing particulate contamination.
Key Features of Our Pass Boxes
Our pass boxes are engineered with several advanced features:
Stainless Steel Construction: Ensures durability and ease of cleaning.
Interlocking Mechanism: Prevents cross-contamination by ensuring only one door can be opened at a time.
UV Sterilization: Integrated UV lights to sterilize the internal surfaces, further minimizing contamination risks.
Smooth, Rounded Corners: Designed to avoid particle accumulation and make cleaning easier.
Benefits of Using Pass Boxes
Enhanced Cleanroom Efficiency: Streamlines the transfer of materials, reducing the need for personnel movement and thereby minimizing contamination risks.
Cost-Effective: Reduces the operational costs associated with maintaining a contamination-free environment.
Safety and Compliance: Helps in maintaining compliance with stringent cleanroom standards and regulations.
Applications of Pass Boxes
Pass boxes are essential in various industries, including:
Pharmaceuticals: Ensuring contamination-free transfer of drugs and medical equipment.
Biotechnology: Facilitating the safe transfer of biological samples and reagents.
Microelectronics: Protecting sensitive electronic components from particulate contamination.
Food and Beverage: Maintaining hygienic conditions during the transfer of food products and packaging materials.
Why Choose Modular Clean Room India?
At Modular Clean Room India, we are committed to providing top-of-the-line cleanroom solutions tailored to your specific needs. Our pass boxes are designed with precision, incorporating the latest technology to ensure optimal performance. Visit our website modularcleanroomindia.com to learn more about our offerings and how we can help enhance your cleanroom operations.
Conclusion
Pass boxes play a vital role in maintaining the integrity of cleanroom environments. By choosing the right pass box, you can significantly improve the efficiency and safety of your cleanroom operations. Modular Clean Room India is your trusted partner in achieving the highest standards of cleanliness and contamination control. Explore our products and services today at modularcleanroomindia.com.
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airomaxxairborne · 1 year ago
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What is difference between dynamic pass box and static pass box?
A pass box is a specialized piece of equipment used in cleanroom environments and laboratories to facilitate the transfer of materials between controlled environments while minimizing the risk of contamination.
Pass boxes typically consist of two chambers separated by interlocking doors. One side of the pass box faces the cleanroom or controlled environment, while the other side faces the external environment. 
Pass boxes can be classified based on various factors, including size, construction material, airflow direction, and additional features. Common types include standard pass boxes, air shower pass boxes, cleanroom pass boxes, and pass-through cabinets.
The key difference between dynamic pass box and static pass box is that dynamic pass box has self-cleaning system, while static pass box does not.
Static Pass Box: — Pass box is one of the clean room systems used to transfer commodities and goods. It is used for transfer materials and goods between clean rooms of the same levels. This Box is providing for UV light & interlock system.
Dynamic Pass Box: — Pass box is one of the clean room systems used to transfer commodities and goods. Dynamic Pass Box commonly used for transfer material and goods between clean rooms of different levels or between clean room and non clean room. Dynamic pass box is equipped with a suction HEPA filter of around 0.3 microns. A static pass box doesn’t have a filter.
Our pass box can reduce the amount of time between operators entering and exiting area, It also reducing the dust coming from the outside environment.
For More Details Click Here : https://www.airomax.in/
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buried-in-autumn-leaves · 4 years ago
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A Sister’s Promise (The Dress)
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Relationships: B.O.Y.D./Huey Duck (Disney: DuckTales), Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack
Characters: B.O.Y.D. (Disney: DuckTales), Huey Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck (Disney), Lena (Disney: DuckTales), Webby Vanderquack, Louie Duck (mentioned)
Word Count: 3027
Also Available On AO3 !!!
Movie nights are common for the kids. With such exciting lives outside and inside the mansion, there was something calming about nights like these. Where they would all sneak into Webby's room after the adults had gone to bed. Windows would be left open for Boyd, Lena, and the others to get in from outside without risking the front door.
This night was not unlike the others, but it was considerably smaller, only Webby and Huey currently present. They were waiting on Lena, who was expected to arrive soon. The absent of the other triplets was requested by Huey actually, and though odd, Webby didn't question it. She was sure there was a reason, and she'd learned not to question things between the three of them. As she finished bringing in the pile of blankets from the hall closet (They weren't meant to go in there, but what the others didn't know wouldn't hurt them.) Huey had settled on the floor across from the TV, "Hey Webs, throw me a snack?"
She reached into the basket next to her, where the group had kept all the snacks they've managed to sneak out of the kitchen. As she tossed a candy bar towards Huey, a tap could be heard on the window behind her. Huey jumped out of his seat.
"What was that?"
"Oh, I forgot to open the window. Probably just Lena, don't worry." She made a point made a point of reassuring them often, knowing how bad his anxiety could get. She ran over and threw open the window. Just as she said, as it opened a shadow could be seen moving on the wall, into the rooms, and then down onto the floor. After a second, the shadow faded, letting Lena's physical form take shape.
They smiled at Webby, "Hey, sorry, still not good at the whole 'going through windows' thing. The others not here yet?"
"It's actually just us this time, but I might invite BOYD over after Tangled. We're watching Big Hero Six, and it's his favourite-" She froze, and looked back over at Huey, her tone teasing. "Oh, would that be okay Huey?"
"Well not if you're gonna talk like that." He responded, rolling his eyes. Their crush on the android friend wasn't exactly a secret to anyone, but Boyd was kind of oblivious when it came to stuff like that, so thankfully he hadn't figured it out yet.
She noticed a backpack that had been hidden behind Huey before he had sat down. "Oh, are you sleeping in here? You can, of course. I'm just not sure how we'd keep that one from Dewey and Louie since you share a room and everything."
"Oh, no I wasn't planning on it, I just brought something I wanted to show you." He seemed a bit nervous, but mostly excited? "Just wait here for a second, I'll be right back!"
Without giving Webby or Lena a chance to answer, they ran out of Webby's room and she heard them enter the bathroom next door. Lena laughed, grabbing a random bag out of the basket of snacks and sitting down next to Webby. "Jeez, you guys are weird."
Webby awkwardly half-laughed back. "Yeah…" It wasn't anything Lena did, of course. She was just curious about what Huey could possibly be hiding.
A few minutes had passed. Webby and Lena were watching an Ottoman Empire rerun as they waited for Huey to come back. As the hosts once again started arguing, the two turned around, hearing a slightly static sound. Lena ran over to the source first. She pulled something out from under Webby's bed. "It's your walkie-talkie."
"Webby, please pick up, I need your help with something." Huey's voice could be heard clearly through the talkie, and Webby, confused, ran over to answer.
"Huey? Why do you even have your talkie on you? What's going on?"
"Junior Woodchuck Rule #1: 'Always expect the unexpected.' But that doesn't matter. Dewey's out in the hall. I need you to get rid of him for me."
"Get rid of him? Why? You're starting to worry me…"
"It's nothing bad, I promise. Just do this for me, please?" He seemed sure, and he didn't seem too upset, so choosing to once again not press the issue, (at least for now) Webby sighed and handed the device to Lena.
"I'll be right back, this shouldn't take more than a minute."
"It's not a problem, Pink. But I am not gonna pause this episode." Lena laughed, sitting back down near the TV. Smiling slightly, Webby nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Just as Huey had said, Dewey was walking around in the hall. He was carrying a tape measure and a clipboard. Webby watched as he seemed to write something down and hold the tape measure against a portion of the wall.
"Um… Dewey?" He turned around quickly, going to hide the objects behind his back. What he didn't expect was for the tape measure to snap shut and hit him in the side of the head. Exclaiming in pain, he shook his head and smiled awkwardly.
"Hey Webby, how are you?" He said, clearly not wanting to explain.
"I don't-" She started, then sighed, deciding the conversation probably wasn't worth it. "Just put this off for the night and I won’t tell anyone what just happened. I'm trying to sleep."
"Fine, deal. Oh, have you seen Huey? He didn't actually tell us where he was going." He picked up the dropped items from the floor.
Panicking, Webby stuttered, trying to think of something that's not suspicious. "He's uh… With Boyd!"
Not a good idea, apparently. Dewey looked surprised, before questioning. "Boyd? Like the Gearloose robo-kid Boyd? OH! Did he finally ask him out?! Louie so owes me $10-"
"What?! No, I- Wait you guys were betting?" She scoffed. She'd definitely be bringing that up later. How dare they not tell her? She could've won so easily! "Anyways, it doesn't matter. Just please let me go to bed."
Previous plans completely forgotten, Dewey nodded and ran back towards his room, yelling at Louie about the money. Once she was sure he wasn't coming back, Webby walked over to the wall where he had just been standing and picked up the clipboard that now lay forgotten on the ground.
"Indoor waterslide? Well, at least he got the measurements right…" Placing the board back down on the ground, she skipped over to bathroom door, grateful that the triplets were so easily distracted. She knocked once on the door, speaking quietly.
"He's gone, you owe me." She wasn't completely serious, of course, but Huey was definitely texting Boyd later that night. It was about time something happened between them, anyways.
"Thanks Webs. I'll be back in just a minute, don't wait for me."
Back in the room, she sat down next to Lena, who was just as curious as she was about Huey's plans. After pausing the show on the TV, they spoke up.
"What do you think he's hiding? I mean not wanting the adults to see I get, but their brothers? I mean I just don't get it."
"I know. This has only happened like once before, and that was when…" She trailed off, then gasped, smiling. "New clothes."
"What?"
"They got new clothes! Oh maybe it's a skirt, we were looking at some the other day-"
She was cut off by a knock at the door, and stopped talking immediately. "Who is it?"
"It's Huey, I just wanted to be able to see your first reaction to this-" Webby interrupted him once again.
"Is it a new outfit?" She asked, excitedly. She heard a sigh from the other side of the door.
"Jeez Webs, you ruin all my surprises."
Then the door opened, and there was Huey, pink and red butterfly clips in his hair, wearing a dress.
It was red, and pretty simple in design, reaching down to where Webby's skirts normally landed when they wore them. After a few seconds of shock, Webby finally seemed to realise what was happening, and squealed. She ran over, almost choking Huey in a tight hug. As he looked behind her, he saw Lena smiling, hands flapping as she ran over to look at the clips.
"These are so cute! Did you make them?"
"Yeah I just-"
"How did you even get this?! Donald and the others always go shopping with you. Oh let me go get my camera!"
"Well I had to-"
"What style would this be considered? I think you'd look really good in a sort of pastel emo vibe, you know? Maybe we could-"
At this point Huey had stopped processing what was being said. The shouting combined with the flash of Webby's camera was so much and it hurt. He pushed his way through Webby and Lena and shakily walked over to the corner of the room the light didn't quite reach. He immediately sat down against the wall and pulled their knees up to his chest, hiding their head and rocking slowly. That was when the others seemed to realise the issue. Webby was the first to act.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry-" She spoke quietly, frowning when Huey had tried to sign that he was okay. "Lena, there's a pair of headphones on my bed. Go grab them for me please?" Lena nodded and quickly went to retrieve them.
So, sensory overload.
It wasn't uncommon for Huey to have these episodes. His ADHD commonly contrasted with his sister's, hers being more hyperactive while his was more inattentive. There was nothing inherently bad about that of course, sometimes it was even a positive part of their dynamic. However it also caused Webby to commonly forget about how bad Huey's sensory issues could get, and so her hyperactivity has caused Huey to go through these episodes a few times before. Still, she never felt and less awful every time it happened.
But this wasn't about her, so she cleared her throat and blinked back the tears as Lena came back and handed her the headphones. She walked over to where Huey was still in that same position on the floor and put the headphones on the floor next to them. She then ran over to a box on her nightstand. Her creative nature had helped her make a variety of stim toys for the others based off how she'd seen them act. Louie had a noise based fidget cube, Dewey a necklace with different chew-safe pieces on it in different textures, etc.
She pulled out Huey's, which was her personal favourite she'd made. One of Huey's main soothers is soft textures like plushies, so that's what she focused on. The plush cube had different fabrics on each side, ranging from longer fur-like fabric to fleece to silk. She made sure there were slight separations between fabrics so Huey had full control on which texture he was touching. This feeling of control tended to help them calm down.
When she walked back over to where Huey was, they were wearing the headphones, and his head was up, but the rocking was still going on. She walked over and handed him the cube, being careful not to touch him directly until he said they were okay with contact.
As this was going on, Lena had gone over to the doorway to dim the lights. The feature was installed by Webby (only starting two fires in the process) after Huey's first overload. And sure, it would've probably been easier to ask one of the adults to help her, but where's the fun in that?
Webby and Lena waited in an awkward silence, letting Huey calm down fully. It seemed the overload left them nonverbal, at least for the moment. Fortunately, since these episodes were common enough, being nonverbal wouldn't completely cut off their ability to communicate. The two had learned basic sign language a few months prior. It wasn't difficult, considering how many languages Webby already knew and how quickly Huey could memorize things like that.
"How're you feeling?" She signed slowly, giving Huey a second to process. After a moment, he raised his hands, only slightly shaking now, to answer.
"Fine, just voice troubles again."
"Are you sure? Do you need anything?" As the conversation went on, Webby said both her own and Huey's parts out loud so Lena would know what's going on. She had attempted to learn the language along with Huey, but turns out it's a little harder to focus on such small details when you can just magic yourself a solution to pretty much any problem.
"Yeah, I'm sure." He responded. "But I don't think I can answer those questions you asked earlier right now. Maybe we could just start the movie first?"
Webby smiled, handing the remote over to Lena, who went to look for the movie. "Yeah, of course. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Huey smiled back and nodded, moving out of the corner and back to where Lena and Webby had set up for the movie. Leaning back against the end of Webby's bed, Huey smiled at their sister, turning his attention to the movie, that had just started.
-
By the time Mother Gothel had started warning Rapunzel about the dangers outside the tower, Huey had completely recovered. He cleared his throat, gaining the other's attention.
"I'm okay now. Uhm, to answer the questions, yes I made the clips. They're a pretty simple design, so I just stole some basic welding equipment from Gyro's lab while Boyd distracted him for me. And I didn't buy the dress, I made it. Sewing is one of the first badges I got, so it wasn't too difficult."
"That's really impressive, you know," Lena insisted. "You always say stuff like that. 'It's not that much, it's not a big deal.' Give yourself some credit."
Huey gave a small smile and nodded. "Noted… Thanks, Lena."
"Don't sweat it, nerd."
"She's right. And sorry, again. I keep forgetting and I really didn’t mean to-" Webby rambled before Huey cut her off.
"It's fine Webby, really. I know you didn’t mean to, you wouldn't do that." He said, mirroring the times she would always reassure them after an overload or any sort of episode.
Webby smiled at that, and then turned back towards the screen. However, the silent watching of the movie didn't last long, because it seemed Webby had one more question.
"Hey, Huey?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you hide this stuff from your brothers?" She asked quietly, frowning when Huey tensed up at the question. "You don't have to answer, I was just curious-"
"No… It's fine. Just caught me off guard I guess." He trailed off, absentmindedly staring at the TV. "I don't know, really. I think it's just because I want them to take me seriously?" He ended the statement more like a question.
"What do you mean?" Lena butted into the conversation, pausing the movie.
Huey shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's a stupid fear." This got Webby to smack their arm lightly.
"It's not stupid. You have bad anxiety, and you overthink stuff. Think about Louie. When he came out, did you start treating him like a child? I mean, any more then you already do?" She laughed. Louie was always treated like the youngest sibling by a huge margin, despite only being a few minutes younger.
He shook his head. "No..."
Smiling now, Webby spoke up again, teasing. "Well? What did you do?"
Huey sighed, laughing slightly. "I altered his dress into a suit design."
"Exactly!" She exclaimed, beaming. "And Dewey helped! In his own way... But everything went fine. And it'll go fine with you too, I promise."
They didn't answer, simply smiling and nodding slightly. "You can start the movie again, Lena."
As the characters danced across the screen, Huey looked down at their dress, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric.
Maybe Webby was right. Maybe it would be okay. I mean they were family, right? He decided he should talk to Della first. That would be easiest. Plus she may be able to help talk to their brothers. She was their mom, right? If she told them, then nothing could really go wrong, at least for the moment.
He thought about how he would tell her, going through individual lines of dialogue and things she could ask or say. This internal monologue was interrupted by someone snapping in front of his face.
"Huey? You there?" Webby asked, smiling.
"Huh? Yeah, sorry. Just thinking. What's up?"
"You have your phone on you, right?"
They nodded, pulling the phone out of the bag that had held the dress. "Need me to call Vi or something?" His phone was quickly snatched out of his hand, and he looked at Webby, confused.
"Nope! It's just this movie's almost over so Boyd is gonna be here in a few minutes-" She paused, looking over at Lena, "Ah, speaking of which, could you please open the window, Lena?" When they walked over to open it, Webby turned back towards Huey. "But anyways, since he's gonna be here, I'm taking this so you'll actually have to talk to him. And if you really don't want to tell him that's fine. Obviously I won't force you. But I really think he likes you."
Shaking his head, Huey laughed. "I mean, nothing else could go wrong tonight…"
"Yeah! And if anything goes wrong I can just delete the memory from his software!" She said, beaming.
"No!" Huey yelled, looking at the door and waiting a moment before talking quieter. "We've talked about this. No editing Boyd's memories!"
"Yeah yeah, I know. So what do you say?" She asked, excitedly.
She watched as Huey looked down at his dress again, and looked up, grinning.
"I'll tell him. As long as you don't try to mess with anything, and you can't be in the same room when I do it. I'll drag him out to the garden or something. Deal?" He held his hand out towards her, and she shook it immediately.
"Deal!"
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softkuna · 4 years ago
Text
playlist
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›  𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘
› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.
›  𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔
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You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.
🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer
  Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.
  🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???
🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????
💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.
💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?
🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina
🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱
🗨️👀 👀 👀
🗨️Bo pls
  As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.
💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot
  You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.
🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄
🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP
  By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.
  But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.
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    Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.
  “You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.
  A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.
  As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“
  “-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.
  “Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.
  “Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.
  Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!
  The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”
  College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.
  You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money.  You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.
  Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.
  He pulled you you between the seats for a  bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”
  “You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”
  “You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’  
  Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”
  “Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.
  “-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.
  He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.
  “Guys… what are you-“
  A record scratch.
  I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.
  “You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.
  “Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why
Without you, it's hard to survive!”
  Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.
  The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:  
  “'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling
And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly
Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last
Need you by my side
'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static
And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky
Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go
Want you in my life!”
  The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.
  The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.
  Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.
 It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.
  It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.
  Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ  TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.
  You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,
  “Man, fuck.”
“What's wrong Bo?”
“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”
“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”
“Man, you're right”
“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.
“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.
“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.
“I guess it is okay.”
“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”
“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.
“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”
“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”
“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”
  Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.
  They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you��d definitely be revisiting this playlist.
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skinks · 5 years ago
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had the unfortunate experience recently of my friend having sex in the same room as me while she thought i was asleep after a night out and i cant stop imagining reddie doing that or late twenties living in an apartment with other losers and having really loud sex when they thought no one else was home while bev just whisper scream/laughs the entire time and when they finally finish and come out bill just shouts “RICHIE TOZIER FUUUUCKS” extra points if this is how they find out theyre together
oh my GOD well first off big giant rip to you that you had to hear your friend fuccin
but holy shit what if reddie room with some of the others, and everyone always hangs out at their apartment. They have separate bedrooms of course, but they’re always sneaking into each other’s rooms in the middle of the night and then back out again before Mike or Bev wake up. Like a) they want to keep this thing as just Theirs while it’s still so raw and big and b) they’re worried about messing up the Loser dynamic. Not that it would, not seriously or for long, they’re just idiots
The rest of the gang come home and eat takeout and drink until they’re all near-comatose on the floor — nobody even thought to turn on the main light after the movie’s brightness faded into VHS static and eventually a blank screen, so they’re all lying whispering in the sleepy darkness when the apartment door bangs open and Richie and Eddie come stumbling through it. They all know Eddie picks Richie up from his bartending shifts across town, that’s why they’d headed to their place first after the power went out at Stan’s, they knew the TV would be free of PlayStation tournaments and the couch would be free of pushy limbs and Cheeto dust. But they didn’t know about this. The flypaper yellow light from the hallway flickers over Richie and Eddie’s unmistakable shapes and they are making out, they are making out hard.
Like, late night Skinemax makeouts.
Like, Eddie bending Richie backwards to get at his mouth and his hips simultaneously, Richie whining and pulling Eddie’s hair type makeouts.
The others lie there, not knowing what to do because like, hadn’t Richie been teasing Eddie just last week about the hot chick who came into the Blockbuster where Eddie works who’d given him that hickey? And Eddie had insisted it was just a rash? They’re all too stunned to say anything to alert the doofuses to their presence, and they’re talking anyway. Well, gasping between wet, gross-sounding kisses. They can hear Eddie’s voice low and affronted, like he doesn’t wanna wake anyone up but he still needs Richie to know how aggrieved he is.
“Do you have—any idea what your fuckin’ shoulders look like in that shirt when you play pool?”
Something clatters, they knock something over. “No,” Richie mumbles, and he sounds like he’s drunk, but he never drinks when he has shifts at the bar. Someone kicks the door shut. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“You look—Christ, Rich, you make me so fucking hard c’mon—you look like someone who got dressed in the fucking dark.”
Laughter from both of them. Happy and hot, and the other five stare at each other from their dark hidey-floor positions. “S’not what you said after Bev’s birthday,” Richie croons. “Remember?”
“Shut up, someone’s gonna hear—”
“Had to fucking gag you with this shirt.”
Bev’s shoulders shake, and she mouths my birthday??? to Ben from behind her muffling hand. Her birthday was months ago. The boys are writhing closer to Richie’s room like something dark and tangled and many-limbed at the back of an aquarium, and Eddie’s teakettle laughter bubbles through his hisses. “I’ll give you something to gag on.”
“Promise?”
A bang, the kind of bang a wall makes when a back collides with it. Richie moans, then, and Bill is wild-eyed as he goes to stand for the lightswitch, but the others all dogpile him before he gets any further.
“You betcha, hotshot. Gonna gag you so good you won’t be able to talk for a week.”
“Nah, you’d m-miss it,” Richie pants.
The bedroom door clicks shut, and they can’t hear Eddie’s murmured response but the tone, the tone is what has them all shushing each other, like people witnessing a natural wonder. Eddie doesn’t hook up or date, they all know his mother’s insidious hooks still hold Eddie back from acknowledging he’s a sexual being at all, regardless of the fact they’re all twenty-three years old. Through that thin piece of wood though, Eddie sounds downright flirtatious. Soft and sly and gritty-salted-sweet, like when you let a mouthful of cotton candy dissolve into a tough little sugarlump on your tongue, the kind that can still break teeth. The Losers gawk at each other and come to the same exact realization at the same exact time; this is serious. Richie only laughs like that when he feels like he’s got nothing to prove, no one to impress. There’s a thump. Then the creaking twang of Richie’s shitty bed frame, and the distinct, loopy peal of Richie’s happy voice, loud even through the door.
“Jesus shit, you look—Eds, you look like someone who’s gonna get fucked in the dark.” Then another thump, more laughter.
They get right down to it. Mike and Bev nudge each other and clamp down on their giggles so hard the effort makes them weep, they’ve been sharing an apartment with these horny dumbasses for two years and haven’t been any the wiser. How, they don’t know, when the noises are so loud and evocative as to make anyone blush, all arrhythmic creaking and punched out ah-ah-hah-ahs and swearing and wet suction and filthy breathless conversation and at one point, someone blowing a definite raspberry. Ben sits with a small smile on his face and his hands over his ears, more out of respectful politeness than anything like distaste, and Stan starts gathering up the bowls of popcorn and chips like nothing’s out of the ordinary. The racket pitches in intensity. Bill lies on the floor, checking his watch with increasing disbelief. They’re all too drunk to go home, they’re stuck.
Eventually the sex crests, and crests, and crests like a giant wave that turns white and frothing and powerful well before it finally slams ashore and lessens. They hear the muffled wandering whimpers of someone who sounds a lot like Eddie feeling something too good for almost too long, like the time they took him to a monster milkshake place for his first birthday since discovering he wasn’t lactose intolerant, where he guzzled til he was pink and groaning. And then it finally gets quiet. There’s some more gentle murmuring, and hearing that feels more invasive than knowing what Richie sounds like when he comes.
A few more minutes pass, and the others gather themselves up to lie in wait on the couch and the two threadbare armchairs Richie and Eddie always fight over, even though they’re exactly the same. Bev managed to dig out some leftover party-poppers and confetti from the Congrats On The NPR Guest Spot party they threw for Mike last month (they like parties, ok) and Stan very studiously hits play on the shitty little boom box when the bedroom door swings open. It’s The Bad Touch, by the Bloodhound Gang. Nothing but mammals, bay-bee.
Richie hobbles out in nothing but briefs and bruises, bow-kneed with his mouth kiss-swollen. “No, I’m pretty sure we still have some chicken pasanda in the fridge from Saturday, man,” he says over his shoulder, “I’m just gonna—oh shit.”
His limbs startle everywhere like a frightened giraffe at the cheering toots of party horns, and at Bill’s best-straight-bro cameraderie holler of “Richie Tozier fucks! You bet your fur he does, holy shit!”
“Uh,” Richie laughs, and rakes a hand through his hair, which already looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Uh, hey guys?”
Then Eddie appears from behind him, sheened in sweat and drowning in Richie’s hideous boxing-kangaroo patterned shirt. He hooks his arm up around Richie’s shoulders, and obviously orgasms do wonders for disintegrating that pesky build-up of inhibition, because he beams drunkenly at them all and says, “Actually, Eddie Kaspbrak fucks.”
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thevirtualcanvas · 5 years ago
Text
Of touch and time
Mando x Reader [GN - for the time being]
Suitable for all. No TW.
It's been three weeks since Mando picked you up from your home world, scared and alone. How will things change going forward and just what is he doing with this small alien child?
The thrum of the engine had become a comfort, one of few in the weeks you'd spent aboard the Razor Crest. The other was the delightful sounds of the little green companion who'd found itself becoming your comfort and outlet as you dealt with the blows of grief from losing the last of your family. His, at least you thought it was a he, smiles and gurgles of  joy as he ambled around the deck after you and his adoptive father gave you a small glimmer of hope in a very uncertain time.
You had nothing to your name, bar the clothes on your back and the pulse rifle currently stored in the Mandalorian's personal armoury. Speaking of, he had been very – quiet. Not that he hadn't been before, but since rescuing you on Arbor there was an air of tension between you both, as though he couldn't quite decide what to do with you, and as such just left you to wander aimless and listless about the small, confines of his ship.
For three weeks you dragged your sorry self through the grief, incapable of making a decision for yourself. Left wondering which pitiful rock the Tin Man would leave you on. He never did, he simply parked the ship on an outer reach, left the child tucked away in the cubby and lingered on you with as though trying to say something, before leaving with a turn of his cloak and disappearing into the terrain. You mostly sat in the same spot, drowning in sallow thoughts and reliving those last moments, picking at your fingers, your borrowed tunic, anything to try and drag you away from that pained look on your Father's face as the Mandalorian coddled you onto his ship. Somewhere in the silence, the sound of a pressurised door would open, a guff of exertion and a small beige bundle would be at your feet, arms outstretched, begging to be picked up.
“C'mon then, little one. Let's see what we have let for you.”
You open the rations cooler, pulling out sticks of jerky for the little green alien to chew on enthusiastically as you rocked him against your hip. A little burp would indicate his fill and he would bury into your chest, snuggling into the smell of his dad's spare tunic. Soon, he would sleep, elongated ears twitching as he slept soundly and you would find a wall or a crate and lethargy would take over your body and you would sleep with the child bundled against you like he was the only thing keep you sane.
Boots clanking against the grate woke you. A rustle of metal and fabric. A tinny huff and the sight of Beskar roused you from your nap, the little one grumbled, pulled from his sleep against your breast.
“Welcome back.” You looked at him as you rose to your feet, shushing the child as the disturbance made him a little cranky. Something about the Mandalorian unnerved but also comforted you, you couldn't place it. There was an atmosphere, ironically. He a man of few and concise words; he seemed to have a lot to say, yet left them unsaid. Starting conversations with agitated huffs, heavy silence and direct instructions. And you, with one companion incapable of speaking common and the other unwilling, you lost the will to speak at all.
Mando nodded as he placed his rifle back in the armoury, and slung the pack from his back onto the nearest crate.  The child was awake completely now, chatting to his Dad from your arms as though the Mandalorian knew exactly what he was talking about.
“How has he been?” He asked, voice soft and laced with static through the vocoder. He reached for the little green alien, and took him from your arms, bundling him up against his own chest and giving him the once over as his bundle patted at the cool metal with animated hands.
You missed the warmth instantly. “Fine, he escaped within the first hour of your leave. He's eaten, I changed him and we've slept the rest of the time.”
A grunt of acknowledgement came from him as the visor tilted towards the pair of big watery eyes that demanded his attention. “And you?” He was looking at you now, you think, it was hard to tell but you had a sense of eyes on you. The tilt of the visor led you to believe he was concerned, as you attempted to decipher the armour clad man.
You grumbled to yourself, eyes hitting the deck. You weren't hungry, you never were anymore. “I'm fine.”
Mando moved the child onto one hip and reached into the rucksack; he pulled out a small box and handed it to you. “There was a Naboo baker in the bazaar.” As if that had explained everything. He waited for you to open the box, finding a bundle of bean buns, still warm to the touch. “You're not used to the rations, but you should eat something.”
The small action had shook you, here you were thinking the man was ready to jettison you out into the cold void of space and he'd thought of your grief enough to buy you a treat. You looked at box, decorated in blues and ribbons, and tried not to cry, an overwhelming sense of guilt and selfishness overcame you. The Mandalorian sidestepped you, ignoring the child's grabbing hands towards the baked goods. He made his way towards the cockpit, not caring about platitudes when he felt a tug on his cloak. He turned his helm to see you, hand balled tight into the coarse material, lips thinned and eyes cinched to keep the tears from betraying you. Your hand trembled, vying you to grab onto to some part of him, something that was human, calling out for some familiarity, and warmth.
“Thank you,” you managed, lip wobbling, knuckles white.
He waited, until you calmed, until you'd processed enough to let go of his cloak. “Eat,” he repeated with a soft rumble he saved for the child. “We set off into hyper-space in twenty. You'll need to be in your seat in fifteen.”
He disappeared up the rungs of the ladder, leaving you to your privacy and you ate all but two of the buns. Leaving one for the child, and one for him. A warm feeling flushed across your skin, not just from the tears but from this one small act of kindness and the hope it gave you.
-----
Two days later found you on a small planet a few hundred thousand miles away from Tattoine. Full of moisture farmers, scrap sellers, and the occasional Jawa scampering about the underbelly of the bazaar. The Mandalorian had dragged you out of the ship; well, he'd told you they were going out, threw a poncho in your direction and put the baby in a bandolier hidden by his cloak.
“Stay close,” he warned. There were no imps here, but a good variety of vagabonds, opportunists and slavers who would take one look at you and decide you were worth the credits to some warlord or senator. Both of which would use you for unspeakable purposes and the bounty hunter would much rather avoid that.
A man named Greef had sent him a tip about a scrap seller who'd come across some interesting pieces, swore they were Jedi, from Coruscant. But it was all strictly hush hush. The imps were fractured, but still strong, their ears and eyes still reached certain parts of the Galaxy beyond the reach of the New Republic. With one hand on his blaster and the other on the bandolier to keep the child quiet, Mando guided you through a back alley of sandstone buildings laced in scrap metal, tubes, rubber piping and electrical cabling from an era just settling into the dust. You were dubious to say the least, being the grandchild of a defected clone just about anything to do with the Jedi and the old Republic made your skin crawl. Your grandfather had shown you the faded scar at the base of his neck where the Jedi whom he'd served used the force to tear the chip from his skull. Saving both their lives long enough to escape Coruscant to go into hiding. Your grandmother would smack him across the back of the head playfully.
“You always embellish the story, my love. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like I was some naïve youngling bouldering through with force in tow. Ignore your grandfather, little one. The story changes every time he tells it.”
She would tease your cheeks, and potter off, watering her plants and reading her books, casting a loving look at the back of your grandfathers head each time she passed. He always looked so much older than her, despite the fact she was twice his age, their dynamic had always thrilled you.
“I don't like this,” you muttered pawing away at the happier time.
Mando agreed. “That's why I brought you. I need you to tell me if the artefacts are fakes.”
You both stood at heavy set door, settled in the shade as though the sun had forgotten it's existence. The child wriggled in his perch, something agitated him. Mando spoke in Mando'a, the words calmed you all, though he aimed it at the child. Once the little one was settled he rattled his fist against the door four times in bouts of two. A hollowing minute went by before the door peeked open. A beady eye looked at your party before opening up a few inches more, encouraging you over the threshold. A grizzled Toydarian greeted you, moss green and with fractured wings – it hobbled down a corridor leading you both with distaste.
The alien snorted, “This way, quickly.” They hurried on their short, stubby legs, leading you and the Mandalorian past a slew of doors, with maker-knows-what behind them. The sounds were overwhelming; a barrage of shouts in a myriad of tongues, bangs, sounds of blasters and screams seeped from under the gaps in the doors. You held your rifle in your hands, it would be useless, of course in such close contact, but it gave you a comfort and a blip of confidence.
You were led into a dome shaped room, a fire pit in the centre and pews decorated in plush linens and expensive hanging lights. Heavy plumes of incense hung thick in the air, designed to relax but it only served to set your nerves alight. In the centre sat another Toydarian, with a knowing smirk and swathed in jewels. They were no mere scrap merchants, of that you were certain.
“Mando,” you hissed, heart palpitating. Your hand tapped the back of his wrist, feeling a blossom of warmth through the back of his glove. For a moment you thought he would reciprocate, giving you the reassurance you so desperately needed, yet he stood fast. Helmet directed at their contact.
“Ah, Mandalorian. Good to see you, my friend. Please, come and take a seat.” The Toydarian leant back against the head of the pew, rings clinking against their spindly fingers, eyes watching from it's tilted head for your reaction.
Mando nodded, but made no movement forward. “Setu, it's been a long time.”
From your position behind your Tin Man you felt him relax at your touch, releasing some of the tension you both held. The situation was sketchy at best, but it wasn't the first nor last situation Mando would find himself in where danger was afoot.
The alien let out a croaked laugh and burst into a strained wet, cough. “Still don't trust me, eh, Mando? A man could be insulted.”
Mando let out a contemptuous sigh, “Good thing you're not a man, Setu.” He folded his arms above the child and eyed the alien down through his helm. “You said you had artefacts – so lets talk.”
-------
An exchange; a bounty for the Jedi artefacts, which you'd verified. A couple of scrolls and glass cube, a holocron. Your grandmother had one left over from when she abdicated the order. Why your Tin Man needed Jedi relics was beyond you, but it wasn't your place to ask. He led you back to the Razor Crest, handed you the baby and left with one instruction. Don't leave the ship. So, for two nights and days on a small planetoid with too many suns, you waited and you watched. One eye firmly on the child who had an unusual knack for disappearing among the crates, nooks and crannies and reappearing when he wanted feeding or comfort. The other on the the hatch, watching the metal creak and groan under the planet's heat, air shimmering as midday sun made temperatures aboard the Razor Crest soared.
On the first night alone with the child you were fearful, the tension palpable. It was the first time you'd been alone in a very long time. The cold night let your imagination run wild. Bounty hunters were waiting in the shadows of the parking deck. Empire elite were stood outside of the Razor Crest, blasters held high with smug grins under fierce helmets. The sounds of hull settling as the desert winds blew tricked your mind into believing salvers were canvassing the ship, looking for entry points. Sleep didn't come easy, but the child seemed undisturbed lulling into an easy slumber as the sun slipped from the sky. He, at least had faith in his Father's success. You watched his strange little face twitch in it's deep sleep, wrinkles moving softly as it's little mouth let out a tiny mewl. His tiny claws coiled around the blanket as he tussled in his dreams, the metal dome from the top of the thruster nestled under his chin.
“At least you're sleeping sound little one. Wonder if your Dad is doing the same.”
The second day was strained, you could hear the bustle of the ship yard. A cornucopia of races and creeds living and working as you stilled in time. You both watched quietly from the window, searching for a friendly familiar face but seeing nothing a but a sea of strangers. Which when you thought about it left a lot of room for irony. The face you were looking for, wasn't even a face at all. You had no idea what manner of man hid behind the Beskar. What his face looked like, or the colour of his skin. Were his eyes warm, or his mouth kind? How would his hair feel, did he have any? You could visualise in your head what you think he could look like, it made you feel safe, warm. One of his tunic's clung to your skin, his scent fading from the threads. You held it tightly against your form, caught in a spiral of want and loneliness. Grief and fear beckoned at your door, it was as dark as the void and thrumming in your veins.
Then light.
Three small, green fingers rested against your forearm, a tiny beacon of warmth and hope. Somehow the child had sensed your disposition. His large, dewy eyes squinted in concentration. A wave feel over you, cocooning you, wrapping you in a field of  metaphorical light. Your mood shifted as the child fell to his bottom with a huff of exhaustion. He let out a big yawn, his mouth stretched wide and he looked to you with a sleepy smile, arms grabbing for you.
You took his slight weight in your arms and cradled him, astounded and confused about what you'd felt. His pointed lobes flickered as he breathing slowed and he fell asleep once more. You padded to and fro in the cockpit as your thoughts coalesced. Just what was this kid and why did the Tin Man have to keep hiding him? He had certainly done something to you, what he'd done, you weren't sure. Your mind would drift to the mission, and how a bounty was being collected for old Jedi relics. Surely not? This little thing, a Jedi? You placed him into his cradle, and took a seat opposite watching him sleep. His little chest rise and fell in a soft metronome. The outside world fell apart as you focused surely on the bundle in silver. What power could one so small wield? And to be with a Mandalorian at that? Which was hilarious considering your heritage. A mere three decades ago and you would have killed on another on site, funny how the galaxy changed.
Blaster fire, a solemn smile and the distinct sound of metal against metal.
You woke up, the pressurised doors opening from the base of the ship catapulting you alert. It was the middle of the night and much cooler, goosebumps graced your bare forearms as the planet's suns had disappeared. In his cradle, the child slept still. Poor little tyke must have been exhausted. You sat, and listened to the sounds in the hull, waiting for something to appear up the ladders. Blaster in hand, pointed at the top rung, you waited. A cold shiver ran down your spine as you shook away at the fatigue that clawed at your mind. You held your breath as a foot hit the bottom rung of the ladder. You pushed yourself back against the Captain's chair as a second clang chased up to the cockpit. You heard a grunt from down below and could have screamed if your voice hadn't failed you.
The child awoke, smiling, waving a tiny hand at you as if waving good morning. He babbled conversationally and you tried to shush him the best you could, but he was already wriggling out of his blankets and making his way to his little feet.
A glimmer of something dark appeared at the top of the ladder. “You know, if I really was a raider, you'd be dead by now.”
The child let out a laugh, and you slumped into the chair, limbs going limp. “Mando...” you breathed a sigh of relief.
His head appeared, and the rest quickly followed. His fingers tapped quickly at the controller on his wrist and the lights of the console gave the Razor Crest enough light so he could see you both. He grunted a greeting and dropped his rifle against the back of one of the co-pilot seats along with the backpack he had hauled over his shoulder. As the strap of the bag wrapped around the back of the chair he winced, a pained hiss mottled by the vocoder.
You were on your feet instantly, inspecting him. Beskar was pocked with blaster burns, gunpowder and caked in blood and mud. “What happened to you?”
“ Mhm, m'fine. Just Setu's bounty.”
Your fingers hovered over the metal of his chest plate, fingers itching to rest themselves against it. “Did you get the bounty?” You asked, voice low, eyes scanning the damage.
A groan of pain crackled through the helmet. “Yeah, he was holed up in some caves outside of the city with a crew. Knew I was coming and put up a fight. It's fine. I have the artefacts.”
It's fine? Fine. No it bloody wasn't. He could have died, and  you would have been stranded with a magic kid and no idea on where to go next. He didn't even leave you with comms. You balled up your fingers and they wrung against the armour, a deft cling rang through the cockpit followed by the sounds of your wailing. “It's not fine! I had no idea where you'd gone, or if you were coming back! I kept thinking the Empire or some kriffing raiders would blow a whole in the hull every five minutes. It's not been fine since I was dragged from Arbor! My family is dead, my home is gone and then you left me too!!!”
He ignored the pain as you wailed against his chest, sure he'd been out in the wilds hunting down a rival gang for Setu. Leteron's were scrappy and resourceful little bastards, and with four arms meant they could carry three more blasters than him, but he managed – eventually. Beyond all of that, Din knew what it was like to be torn away from everything you'd ever known and forced to cope with a strange situation.  He could understand your plight. So he waited.
You crushed against him, feeling the cold beat of metal against your chest as your wrapped your arms around him. He had some height on you, so your head rested against the top of his shoulder, tears dripping into the thick cotton cloak. The sound of babbling came from your feet and you could feel his tiny fingers against your calf, like he was trying to hug you.
A sigh of frustration came from the Mandalorian, his kid always won in the end. “Fine,” he said looking down through his visor at the small mediator. “But no crying the next time I put you in the fresher.” You heard the small mewl of acknowledgement.
With uncertainty, Din wrapped both of his arms around you. Encasing you into a warmth you settled into your very soul. He was unsure, uncomfortable, but he bared it. He still remembered being carried and held as a boy, soaring into the sky, along with a member of the Death Watch. The warmth and compassion shown by the warriors that saved him, shaped him. He supposed you just needed the same. His thick gloves curled around the opposing shoulder and brought you closer. Sure, he smelt worse than a decomposing Rancor, but you didn't mind. Soon your wails curbed to hiccuped sobs, and trembling, you let go. Knowing that if you didn't soon, Mando might soon keel over. In a moment of uncharacteristic affection he cupped the back of your neck with a gloved hand, running his thumb along your jaw.
“Jate, udesla jii,” Good, calm now.
Electricity ran through you as he reached over you to pick the child up. You held your cheek where the leather had traced and found yourself clamouring for it all over again.
“Tin man?” He looked at you an nodded, child on his hip as took a seat in the Captain's chair. “Thank you, for rescuing me. I'm sorry I shouted.”
Mando shook his head, as the child patted the Beskar with growing concern. “It's fine. Can you get the bacti spray for me?” He groaned as the child tried splay his little fingers against the metal – what was the kid trying to do? “No,” he directed at the alien. “I'll use the stim, understand, adiik?”
You watched as the child sat, dejected on his Father's lap, the metal dome of the thruster tight in his little claws.
“Sure,” you said, looking at the bag containing the artefacts. “And what about the Jedi relics?”
“They're going to help me find his people.” He replied, again, as if his short answers solved anything.
Curiosity took the better of you, so you took a peek. Peeling back the tan lip of the bag, a soft glow filled the contents. You grabbed it with both hands, pulling back the hessian slip that encased it. In the palm of your hand sat the holocron cube, no bigger than the box your bean buns sat it. Except, this was different from a bakery box. Get a true look at it, you noticed it was glass, adorned in intricate gold and it lived. From the inside you could feel a wave, a humming of life and a big change. The box lifted from your hands, a soft blue glow emitting from the glass. You stood back, confused, watching it as it floated across the cockpit and landed into the hands of the child. His shiny dome forgotten about as this new object filled both of his tiny hands. The metal corners shifted, and the cube activated.
Everything was about to change.
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maximelebled · 5 years ago
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My quick review of the ASUS XG27UQ monitor (4K, HDR, 120Hz)
I originally wanted to tweet this series of bullet points out but it was getting way too long, so here goes! I got this to replace a PG278Q, which was starting to develop odd white stains, and never had good color reproduction in the first place (TN film drawbacks, very low gamma resulting in excessively bright shadows, under-saturated shadows, etc.)
The hardware aesthetic is alright! The bezels may feel a bit large to some people, but I don’t mind them at all. If you’re a fan of the no-bezel look, you’ll probably hate it. There is a glowing logo on the back that you can customize (Static Cyan is my recommendation), but it isn’t bright enough to be used as bias lighting, which would’ve been nice.
The built-in stand is decent; it comes with a tacky and distracting light projection feature at the bottom. It felt quite stable, though I don’t care about it because it got instantly replaced by an Ergotron LX arm. (I have two now, I really recommend them in spite of their price.) 
The coating is a little grainy and this is noticeable on pure colors! You can kinda see the texture come through, a bit more than I’d like. Not a huge deal though.
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The rest of the review will be under the cut.
The default color preset (”racing mode”), which the monitor is calibrated against, is very vivid and saturated. It looks great! But it’s inherently inaccurate, which bothers me, so I don’t like it. It looks like as if sRGB got stretched into the expanded gamut of the monitor.
sRGB “emulation” looks very similar to my Dell U2717D, whose sRGB mode is factory-calibrated. However, the XG27UQ’s sRGB mode has lower gamma (brighter shadows), so while the colors are accurate, the gamma is not. It feels 1.8-ish. Unless you were in a bright room, it would be inappropriate for work that needs to have accurate shadows. This mode also locks other controls, so it’s not the most useful, but the brightness is set well on it, so it is usable!
The “User Mode” settings use the calibrated racing mode as a starting point, which is a big relief. So it’s possible to tweak the color temperature and the saturation from there! I checked pure white against my Dell monitor and my smartphone (S9+) and tried to reach a reasonable 3-way compromise between them, knowing that the Dell is most likely the most accurate, and that Samsung also allegedly calibrates their high-end smartphones well. My configuration ended up being R:90/G:95/B:100 + SAT:42. This matches the saturation of the U2717D sRGB mode fairly closely. You also get to choose between 1.8, 2.2, and 2.5 gamma too, which is not too granular, but great to have. It kinda feels like my ideal match is between 2.2 and 2.5, but 2.2 is fine.
The color gamma according to lagom.nl looked fine, but I had to open the picture in Paint, otherwise it was DPI-scaled in the browser, and that messed with the way it works!! (That website is an amazing resource for quick monitor checks.)
Colors are however somewhat inaccurate in this mode. It’s easy to see by comparing the tweaked User Mode vs. sRGB emulation. There are some rather sizeable hue shifts in certain cases. I believe part of this is caused by the saturation tweak not operating properly.
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Here’s a photo of what the Photoshop color picker looks like when Saturation is set to 0 on the monitor, vs. what a proper grayscale conversion should be. It’s definitely not using the right coefficients. 
So in practice, when using the Racing & User modes, compared to the U2717D sRGB, here’s a few examples of what I see:
Reds are colder (towards the purple side) & oversaturated
Bright yellow (255,215,90) is undersaturated
Bright green (120,200,130) is undersaturated
Dark green (0,105,60) is fine
Magenta (220,13,128) is oversaturated
Dark reds & brown (150,20,20 to 90,15,10) is oversaturated
Cyan (0,180,240) is fine 
Pink (230,115,170) is fine
Some shades of bright saturated blue (58,48,220) have the biggest shifts.
The TF2 skin tone becomes slightly desaturated and a bit colder
It’s not inaccurate to the point of being distracting, and you always have the  sRGB mode (with flawed gamma?) to check things with, but it’s definitely not ideal, and some of these shifts go far enough that I wouldn’t recommend this monitor for color work that needs to be very accurate.
I’ve went back and forth, User vs sRGB, several times, on my most recent work (True Sight 2019 sequences). I’ve found the differences were acceptable for the most part; they bothered me the most during the Chronosphere sequence, in which the hazy sunset atmosphere turned a bit into to a rose gold tint, which wasn’t unpleasant at all — and looked quite pretty! — but it wasn’t what I did.
I’m coming from the point of view of a “prosumer” who cares about color accuracy, but who ultimately recognizes that this quest is impossible in the face of so many devices out there being inaccurate or misconfigured one way or the other. In the end, my position is more pragmatic, and I feel that you gotta be able to see how your stuff’s gonna look on the devices where it’ll actually be watched. So while I’ve done color grading on a decent-enough sRGB-calibrated monitor, I’ve always checked it against the inaccurate PG278Q, and I’ve done a little bit of compromising to keep my color work looking alright even once gamma shifted. And so, now, I’ll also be getting to see what my colors look like on a monitor that doesn’t quite restrain itself to sRGB gamut properly.
Well, at least, all of that stuff is out of the box, but...
TFTCentral (one of the most trustworthy monitor review websites, in my opinion) has found suspiciously similar shifts. But after calbration, their unit passed with flying colors (pun intended), so if you really care about this sort of stuff and happen to have a colorimeter... you should give it a try!
I hope one day we’ll be able to load and apply an ICC/ICM profile computer-wide, instead of only being able to load a simple gamma curve on the GPU with third-party tools like DisplayCAL. Even if it had to squeeze the gamut a bit...
Also, there are dynamic dimming / auto contrast ratio features which could potentially be useful in limited scenarios if you don’t care about color accuracy and want to maximize brightness. I believe they are forced on for HDR. But you will probably not care at all.
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IPS glow is not very present on my unit; less than on my U2717D. However, when it starts to show up (more than a 30°-ish angle away), it shows up more. UPDATED: after some more time with the monitor, I wanna say that, in fact, IPS glow isit's slightly stronger, and shows up sooner (as in, from broader angles). It requires me to sit a greater distance from the monitor in order to not have it show up and impede dark scenes. It is worse than on my U2717D.
Backlight bleed, on the other hand, is there, and a little bit noticeable. On my unit, there’s a little bit of blue-ish bleed on the lower left corner, and some dark-grey-orange bleed for a good third of the upper-left. However, in practice, and to my eyes, it doesn’t bother me, even when I look for it. It ain’t perfect, but I’ve definitely seen worse, especially from ASUS. The photo above was taken at 100% brightness, and I’ve tried to make it just a tad brighter than what my eyes see, so hopefully it’s a decent sample.
Dead pixels: on my unit, I have 5 stuck dead green subpixels overall. There are 4 in a diamond pattern somewhat down and right to the center of the screen, and another one, a bit to the right of that spot. All of them kinda “shimmer” a little bit, in the sense that they become stronger or weaker based on my angle of view. They’re a bummer but I haven’t found them to be a hindrance. Took me a few days to even notice them for the first time, after all.
HDR is just about meaningless and uses some global dimming techniques, as well as stuff that feels like... you know that Intel HD driver feature that brightens the content on the screen, while lowering the panel backlight power in tandem, to save power, but it kinda flattens (and sometimes clips) highlights? It kinda looks like that sometimes. Without local dimming, HDR is just about meaningless.
Unfortunately, the really nice HDR support in computer monitors is still looking like it’s going to be at the very least a year out, and even longer for sub-1000 price ranges. (I was holding out for the PG27UQX at first, but it still has no word on availability, a whole year after being announced, and will probably cost over two grand, so no thanks.)
G-Sync (variable refresh rate) support is... not there yet?! The latest driver does not recognize the monitor as being compatible with the feature. And it turns out that the product page says that G-Sync support is currently being applied for. Huh. I thought they had special chips in those monitors solely for the feature, but it’s possible this one does it another way? (The same way that Freesync monitors do it?)
DSC (Display Stream Compression) enables 4K 120Hz to work through a single DisplayPort cable, without chroma subsampling. And it’s working for me, which came as a surprise, as I was under the impression this feature required a 2000-series Turing GPUs. (I have a 1080 Ti.) I was wrong about this, it’s 144 Hz that requires DSC. And I don’t have it on this Pascal card. But I don’t really care since I prefer to run this monitor at 120 Hz, as it’s a multiple of the 60 Hz monitor next to it.
Windows DPI scaling support is okay now. Apps that are DPI-aware, and the vast majority of them are now, scale back and forth between 150% and 100% really well as they get dragged between the monitors! The only program I’ve had issues with is good old Winamp, which acted as if it was 100% on the XG27UQ... and shrinked down on another monitor. So I asked it to override DPI scaling behaviour (”scaling performed by: application”), which keeps the player skin at 100% on every monitor, but any call to system fonts and UI (Bento skin’s playlist + Settings panel) are still at 150%. So I had to set the playlist font size to 7 for it to look OK on the non-scaled monitor!
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A few apps misbehave in interesting ways; TeamSpeak, for example, seen above, scales everything back from 150% to 100%, and there is no blurriness, but the “larger layout” (spacing, etc.) sticks.
Games look great with 4K in 27 inches. Well, I’ve only really tried Dota 2 so far, but man does it get sharp, especially with the game’s FXAA disabled. It was already a toss-up at 1440p, but at 4K I would argue you might as well keep it disabled. However, going from 2560x1440 to 3840x2160 requires some serious horsepower. It may look like a +50% upgrade in pixels, but it’s actually a +125% increase! (3.68 to 8.29 million pixels.) For a 1080 Ti, maxed-out Dota 2 at 1440p 120hz is really trivial, but once you go to 4K, not anymore...  you could always lower resolution scale though! (Not an elegant solution if you like to use sharpening filters though, looking at you RDR2.)
Overall, the XG27UQ is a good monitor, and I’m satisfied with my purchase, although slightly disappointed by the strong IPS glow and the few dead subpixels. 7/10
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How to Choose Your Correct Pass Box Requirement in Cleanroom Area
What is a Pass Box?
Pass box is one of the important parts of cleanroom systems and is used to transfer the materials from one side to the other side through a controlled environment to avoid cross-contamination of airborne particles.
In other words, a pass box can also be defined as a unit where you can transfer material from a non-classified area to a classified area. It is a kind of airtight mechanical barrier system where any movement across or between classified and non-classified areas or from critical to the non-critical area is eliminated.
It prevents the entrance of contaminants in the sterile area. Door Interlocking is the primary feature of a pass box, when one side door is open the other side door remains closed. It is also known as Cleanroom pass-through box, Hospital Pass box, Hatch Box, Static Pass Box, Dynamic Pass Box, Clean transfer window and transfer hatch, etc. Mounting of Pass box is either wall-mounted or stand mounted.
 Different Types of Pass Box.
Static Pass Box(SPB).
Dynamic Pass Box (DPB).
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Php training course
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PHP is a widely-used general-purpose scripting language that is especially suited for Web development and can be embedded into HTML.
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Javascript
Objectives of the Course
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45 Working days, daily 1.30  hours
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DRUPAL
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AJAX
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