#Celestial Marquee

[jadeannbyrne]

Jade Ann Byrne Presents: Neon Nights: The Taco Bell Cosmos

In the vast expanse of a future not wracked by dystopian cliches but painted with the neon glow of endless possibility, a figure stood beneath the celestial marquee of Taco Bell, a testament to the eternal human saga of late-night cravings. Jade Ann Byrne was her name, a contractor to this grand establishment, a caretaker to an army of automatons crafted in her own image. With a cascade of…

[jades-typurriter]

Take in the View/Taking the Brunt

Two women—a singer and a celestial being—have a heart-to-heart about the impossible standards they hold themselves to.

The art on this piece was a commission from @dapper-lil-arts ! Please check her out she rocks

Eyes–as blue and as vast as the sky, a pair belonging to Polaris–fell upon the Floatzel. This was one of the Gardevoir’s favorites, one of a handful towards which her attention was drawn more strongly than any of the others on the little blue garden world she watched over. She had much potential; the whole world would one day look to her as, now, only a certain admirer and Polaris herself did. Beautiful and confident, a model of grace… at least, most of the time. As Polaris found her now, it seemed she was having a rough night.

She moved part of herself “above” the Floatzel’s apartment. Or “beside”. Neither word was quite correct, but they were both closer than “inside”, at least for the moment. The singer sat at her dresser, looking into a mirror lined with fairy lights. The effect was not unlike the marquee at the lounge where she worked. A bit of motivation, the anodyne intruder supposed. Dressing for the job she wanted, even if it meant taking work home with her. Who could judge her for taking the stage name as her own? Throwing oneself into her work, especially work she was passionate about, work she believed in, was a way of powering through. The mask gets lighter when it becomes a part of you.

Yet, here she was, letting the mask down. She wiped makeup from her face, streaks of black mascara trailing from her eyes, eyeshadow making way for puffy, red circles. Instead of her usual repertoire of sparkling, slitted dresses, she now wore a faded, frayed pink sweatshirt, big enough for the collar to hang off one shoulder, and a baggy pair of pajama pants. Now seemed like as good a time as any for Polaris to step in.

She floated into the room, seemingly from nothing, as though stepping out from behind a lamppost. The three points of her crest, alight with the warm glow of a star, preceded her. Her folded hands, wrapped in matte gray gloves which obscured that same glow from the skin beneath, rested in front of a bell of layered skirts, which fluttered behind her, leaving a glittering cloud of dust in her wake. She now stood across the room, behind the Floatzel, fully visible in the mirror; even if she didn’t announce herself, it would’ve been rude to not make herself known. The Floatzel, for her part, had snatched up an umbrella that was leaning against her dresser, and whirled around to point it at the intrusion.

“Who are you!?” She shouted.

“Eleanor–”

“And how do you know my NAME!!”

“Well–” Polaris hesitated. “You could say I’m quite the fan of yours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. A stalker? I haven’t been a performer NEARLY long enough for this, I–” the Floatzel stuttered, “I’m calling the boys from the Lounge.”

“You don’t need Derrick and Rodney,” the Gardevoir intoned calmly. “I promise, I’m not here to hurt you. I haven’t been ‘following’ you in the sense that you’re thinking, either.”

“Then just WHAT is this supposed to BE?”

“Don’t I look familiar to you, Eleanor?”

“You look like a crazy cosplayer, is what you look like. Who are you even supposed to be,” she spat, squinting, “Mother Polaris, or something?”

“The very same,” the Gardevoir replied, nodding, doing her best to appear ancient (true) and wise (debatable). Eleanor narrowed her eyes at her for a long moment, utterly still except for an eventual, perplexed blink.

“You’re kidding.”

“You just saw me step out of thin air, then name-drop the exact friends you were thinking of. I’m made of space dust,” she continued, performing a little curtsy that displaced a nebula’s worth of twinkling material from her skirts, “And I’m here because… well, you know why I’m here. That should be a bit of extra proof for you.”

“Why are you here?” Eleanor grilled her, cocking an eyebrow. The Gardevoir shook her head.

“I try not to put words in people’s mouths. I find that it often makes things worse, or reminds them of different problems from the ones I’ve come to help them with.”

“I’m asking you to guess. Maybe I’ll believe you if you get it right.”

“Well,” she began, bowing her featureless face in an approximation of a sigh, “You seemed like you could use someone to talk to. Have you been doubting yourself recently, dear?”

The note of genuine affection in Polaris’ voice seemed to catch Eleanor off guard. While Eleanor was no stranger to Polaris, the same could not be said for the converse. She hesitated, then glanced at the tissues and make-up pads on her dresser.

“Am I really doing so bad,” she asked weakly, shoulders slumping as she turned back toward the celestial woman, “That I’m being visited by… by, by, guardian figures from literal myths?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” The Gardevoir prompted, hovering by the edge of Eleanor’s bed, gently patting a spot next to her. Another moment’s hesitation–another moment’s disbelief–came and went, and the Floatzel acquiesced, joining her on the bed.

“Well, you’re here already, so you must have some idea of it,” she began. Polaris nodded along, encouraging her. “Sometimes… I don’t see a way forward for myself. I know it doesn’t really make sense, I know that. I’m the headliner at a wonderful little club. My boss–”

“Donna? The Lapras.”

“Y…yes, her,” she continued, still unsettled. “She loves having me there. Thinks I’m talented, thinks I liven up the place. My coworkers are all so supportive, too, I just… I don’t know if I’m waiting for some cliché ‘big break’, or if working my way up from the bottom is just going too slowly for me to feel good about it…”

“But?”

“But…” She sighed. She hadn’t admitted this out loud before, or at least, Polaris hadn’t been paying enough attention to hear it. It was rare, but she did have her lapses. They always seemed to be at the most important moments. “I look at the people who have already made it–”

“Like Carlotta. The Altaria, your mentor.”

“Right.”

“And I know that that Purugly is another person you admire.”

“Mhm.”

“You look at them, and you see what?”

“It’s less something I see in them, and more something I don’t see in myself. They’re so, so talented, and… I know my own abilities. I know I’ve worked hard, I practiced, Carlotta took me under her wing to teach her half of what I know herself, and I’ve got her approval for sure. But their work is so inspiring, so moving, and mine is just… well, I’m only me.”

“And you do not hear the same ring in your work, see the same poise in your movement, as you hear and see in theirs?”

“I suppose I don’t. I don’t really know what the difference is. I just don’t feel like I’m enough.”

“Well, I meant what I said earlier. I’m a big fan of yours.” At this, Eleanor barked out a laugh, rubbing one of her eyes with the ball of her palm.

“Aren’t you known for loving everyone on Earth? Caring for all?” She made a wavy little arcing gesture to poke at the grandiosity of it. “That feels almost like a compliment from my mom!” Polaris giggled in return, politely covering the place her mouth would be with a hand.

“I suppose that’s fair. Would it cheer you up at all if I told you a secret about what people call me nowadays?”

“It couldn’t hurt. Normally the best gossip I get is from Donna.”

“You all haven’t always called me Mother Polaris.”

“No?”

“No! In fact, when I first approached you, before I had even chosen the name Polaris for myself, I declared that you all should call me mom.

“PfffHAH! Just mom?”

“Just mom! I listened in on you all for a little while and decided, ‘oh, that’s what I need to be for them, the poor things!’”

“HAAHAHAHA, wow! Just imagining someone who looks as elegant and awe-inspiring as you, who talks as politely as you, just going ‘I’m your mom now’. HA!”

“Thankfully, I developed a better grasp on the nuances and the connotations eventually. I never did want to give up that sort of maternal position, though.”

“Well, you work it,” Eleanor reassured her, her laughter dying down to a faint grin. “It did make me feel a bit better.” There was a long pause. Eleanor looked down at the floor; Polaris suspected she was working up to discussing another difficult subject. Eventually, she spoke again:

“Would it be okay if I talked about something else? I really do appreciate the visit–you’ve already cheered me up, and just the time you took to come see me–but I guess I don’t feel like I’ve gotten it all off my chest.”

“Say as much as you feel you need to, Eleanor. This is what I’m here for,” she comforted the poor thing, though the true depth of the statement was likely lost on her.

“Alright. Thank you.” She paused, finding the words, then discarding them. “So, since we’re talking about names. Um. I don’t get to talk to deities all that often,” she chuckled, feeling awkward. “Can I ask why you settled on Polaris?”

“Dear, I don’t believe that was what you were so worried about saying.” The Floatzel screwed up her lip, glancing away from the Gardevoir. “How about this: I’ll tell you more about my name if you tell me more about how you’re feeling. Are you comfortable with that?” Eleanor slowly dragged her eyes back to meet Polaris’, and hesitantly nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know if this is the missing… quality that I was talking about earlier, or if it’s something separate, but it’s also part of what’s been bugging me. I look at Carlotta, and honestly, I even look at Donna, and they’re just, so in-their-own-element, so confident, like, like they never miss a beat. And like I said, Carlotta taught me most of what I know–especially, I guess, faking it until I make it.

“But it’s just so hard to keep up with them. I’m exhausted after performing all night, keeping that calm, collected persona up while I chat up the patrons and ‘relax’ with my friends. They don’t even break a sweat. I’ve seen Donna haul a heckler or a creep up by his shirt collar and throw him out into the street, then go right back to laughing with the regulars like it never happened, and I just don’t get it. Carlotta’s smile never wavers for a moment. Donna can keep an eye on us around the clock. It feels like so much more work when I do it than when they do! It takes everything I have just to be at a point where I feel out of my depth, and I know it only gets deeper the further I want to go. I don’t know if I have it in me.”

Polaris nodded thoughtfully, appraising Eleanor before offering a response. She considered what might help her–her, specifically, with her disposition and her problems–to hear in this moment. She couldn’t solve her problem for her, that much she knew; her position relegated her largely to moral support. Even the most basic of contributions, taking an active role like providing reminders of accountability, even just regular encouragement, often felt like an impossible commitment given how she spread her mental resources. Then, ought she reassure the Floatzel? Suggest how she might solve the problem herself?

She decided that a bit of perspective would serve her best, and Polaris was perhaps the best-equipped to provide a step back.

“Eleanor,” she began, smoothing out her skirts, choosing her words deliberately and with consideration, “You already know that I keep track of… well, most things that go on. Yes?”

Eleanor nodded, scooting further onto her bed, having drawn up her knees to her chest.

“Then you’ll trust my insight into your relations.”

She nodded again.

“You are not the only one who struggles to keep up with the demands of her life. Nor are you the only one who keeps up a façade to put their best foot forward at all times. Carlotta would tell you that ‘that’s showbusiness’, but do not mistake me. Neither she nor I tell you this to dismiss your problems, or suggest that you need only get used to it. Rather, it is to instill in you a mutual understanding with your peers: even those of them who appear to succeed effortlessly toil behind closed doors. They have to practice every bit as much as you. They have to take time to decompress as often as you.”

“Right. They’re there to help me and the other girls who work the place feel safe.”

“I… I struggle to see it, even still. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize, dear,” Polaris hushed her as she moved closer. “Perhaps this will make it easier. Donna keeps those two Incineroar boys on staff, yes?”

“Of course. And you mentioned that Donna takes such matters into her own hands as well, yes?”

“She does.”

“Do you think that she would bother continuing to pay two employees if she were utterly, totally confident in her ability to keep you safe herself?” A pause, then a defeated sigh through Eleanor’s nose.

“I don’t suppose she would.”

“She would not! Even someone as self-assured, as decidedly capable as Donna knows her limits. But if she were to draw attention to those limits, it might make you and the other girls feel less safe, right?”

“I guess so.”

“They want to seem professional as badly as you do, Eleanor.” She placed a gloved hand on the performer’s shoulder, looking her directly in the eyes. “Your achievements are earned. You are not falling behind. You work harder than most anybody under my watch.”

Eleanor’s eyes fell again, but this time the movement was accompanied by a smile, tinged with relief.

“That… means a lot to hear. Thank you. So much.”

“Of course, dear. Now,” she said, rising to her full floating height, “Is there anything else you wish to talk about? Anything else I can try to help you with?”

“You promised me another story about your name.”

“Ah. That I did.”

“Go ahead! Make yourself comfortable,” Eleanor said, waving to the other half of her bed and to a sofa in the corner of the room. Hardly.

“What was your question again, dear?” The Gardevoir asked, floating away from Eleanor, her skirts rising and then settling as she rested herself in the cushioned chair. “Why I chose my name?”

“Mhm!” She had grabbed a pillow from by the headboard of her bed and was holding it in her lap. She almost seemed like she was sitting at a slumber party, talking about pettier secrets with girlfriends, like who was crushing on who.

“You see…” Yet again, she chose her words carefully. “Motherhood was not the only concept among your cultures that I saw fit to embody. Guidance, constancy, stalwartness… Many cultures rely on the stars for navigation. Their ever-presence, their reliability, makes them indispensable; they serve a necessary function. As for the name Polaris specifically, I found that it was emblematic of these qualities–though I just as well could have found a way to make the Southern Cross my namesake, had I first contacted you below the equator.”

“I see… Names with personal meanings like that are the best ones, in my opinion.”

“I agree. It wouldn’t do for one to live by a name that rang hollow to them. A good name is one that truly represents you, or that you can at least strive to live up to.”

“Do you feel that way about your name?”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you feel like you actively try to live up to it?” So she had caught on. This was why she had tried to depart early, but there was no sense in being rude–or worse, arousing concern–by attempting to worm out of it now. She had had this conversation many times before.

“I do my best,” was Polaris’ outward response.

“And… I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but–”

“No, by all means. You were promised a story, were you not?”

“Are you trying to look professional, too? Maybe, in trying to reassure me, you don’t want to let on that… Well, I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”

“I appreciate that, dear. To answer your question, yes, I was speaking from experience on the subject of façades.”

“I imagine that you’re very busy trying to help everybody on the planet.”

“Yes.”

“And you try to ‘look professional’ for all of them as well, since you find such deep personal meaning in being their rock.”

“Naturally.”

“So have you ever actually… talked to anyone about how stressful it is for you?”

“Of course.”

“Oh.” She seemed taken aback by that answer. “Um.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“I guess I just thought that a goddess would be able to handle it better than a regular girl could? Or that, at least, you could put up with it for longer. I don’t know why I’m surprised that someone who’s been around as long as you have has… had a heart-to-heart with someone before.” She still seemed curious; Polaris could reasonably figure what her remaining unanswered questions were.

“Well, I try not to. For reasons beyond ‘seeming professional’, I mean.” The Floatzel opened her mouth to ask, and Polaris cut her off. “No, I will not give you the details.”

“Why not? It’s only fair that I should offer you help after you’ve cleared my head.”

“Eleanor, do you remember that joke from that old cartoon about whether mailmen deliver their own mail?” She watched her brow furrow in confusion–it was an odd example, she knew, but one that would almost definitely be familiar. After a moment of gear-turning, the Floatzel nodded at her. “There’s a similar saying about therapists: each of them needs a therapist of their own to handle the things they hear about in the course of their work.”

“So why not be each other’s therapists?”

“I’m afraid you don’t understand the things I hear in my work, dear. How can I illustrate this for you…” Polaris brought a hand to her chin and pondered for a moment. These concepts were often difficult for earthly beings to grasp, but she’d had many opportunities to try, and she was reasonably sure she could convey them properly. “Imagine… imagine a mural on the side of the building.”

“Okay.”

“The mural takes up the whole wall of this building.” A nod. “Now imagine that this building is a skyscraper.” Another nod, concern evident on her face. “Imagine that you are big enough that you can take in the mural in its entirety. Then, simultaneously, imagine that you have enough eyes to focus on every inch of that mural at once. Try to appreciate the mural’s every detail, in your mind; not one-by-one, but every detail, with full clarity, all at once. As though there were two sharp spots in the center of your field of vision, but, well, far more than two.”

“I…” The Floatzel shrunk. “Alright. I take your point, I think.”

“What kind of mural might this be, Eleanor? What situations call for a guardian angel to poke her head into your life?”

“Yes. Okay.”

“You can imagine, if the mere concept is this disquieting, why I shy away from confiding fully in any one person.”

“I can.” Once again, Polaris met Eleanor’s eyes. The silence was long. Uncomfortable. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for, dear. I promised you an answer, and now you have it.”

“No, I mean… I’m sorry that you have to deal with that. Don’t you ever have time to, to rest?”

“Eleanor, I’m with about a dozen people besides you at this very moment.” Another painfully long silence.

“How can you put up with it? I know I push myself for my music, but… that’s something that fulfills me. It’s a calling, I get something out of it.”

“One could say that this is something of a calling for me, as well. Regardless, it is as I said–”

“‘A necessary function`.”

“Indeed.”

Silence.

“Though,” the Gardevoir spoke again, “I suppose that does not answer the question of why I carry on this way.” The Floatzel lifted her chin from her knees and cocked her head at Polaris. “Outwardly, I know, I am quite akin to things you refer to as ‘heavenly bodies’, but I am not actually divine, as many of you assume. As I said, I simply appeared before some of your people; that was shortly after I first made a chance discovery of your world. I did not create you, and while I am not responsible for you…

“Someone of my abilities–my constitution, one who does not tire and sleep the way you earthly beings do, has no need for food or drink… I can. Therefore I should. It is difficult, I suppose, not to feel responsible for you.”

…

“There has to be… has to be something that makes that easier for you, Polaris. Isn’t there anything I can do–anything anyone can do? If you don’t want to… can’t, talk about it, maybe I can do something that isn’t talking.”

This gave Polaris pause; even with the Floatzel’s words ringing in her ears, that fair is fair, and help for help was only reasonable, she… she would have felt deeply that she was imposing by asking for much of anything. Even one of her songs would’ve felt like putting her out of her way, especially since the Gardevoir could listen in on one of her performances on any night she wished. Or. Any night she could spare the attention. 

Something that required even less work than that, then. Something the Floatzel could offer that required barely any effort at all. Something Polaris could enjoy merely by being in her presence. She sucked in a deep breath, willing herself not to shudder as she did so.

“Dear. Pardon. Eleanor,” she wrung the words from her throat. “Would you be willing to… simply allow me to hold you? The touch would be… comforting.” She couldn’t meet the Floatzel’s eyes as she spoke, this time. Had her mask been on, Polaris was sure she would’ve had a cute, flirtatious remark about the opportunity to cuddle a goddess instead of just pick her brain, but shake–and mercifully considerate–as she was, she made no such jest.

“Of course. Yes, Polaris, I can.” She placed the pillow aside and patted the bed beside her, opening her arms to the Gardevoir, who drifted to her side like a dry leaf on the wind.

Polaris pulled the Floatzel up halfway onto the mound of her skirts, allowing her to get comfortable. Eleanor, smaller by a head or two, nestled her head against the watcher just beneath her crest, wrapping her arms around her waist. The Gardevoir’s gentle hands rested on her companion’s back, arms draped gingerly over her shoulders.

With her charge no longer looking her in the face, her visage relaxed, and the etchings of exhaustion revealed themselves. Tired circles hung under her eyes like the distortions of gravity around a black hole. If she had a mouth, frown lines would have deepened at its corners. But it was a welcome change. Down came Polaris’ mask, and down were her eyes cast, taking in the sight of the girl who had offered her this act of compassion, this moment of privacy and of connection, both of which the guardian had desperately needed.

Tears welled in her blue eyes, and though she strangled a sob, hoping neither to lose her composure in a way Eleanor could see, nor to disturb her, they began to run down her face. Gleaming, shimmering streaks lined both of her cheeks, now, broad strokes of deep, near-black blues shot through with simmering, rusty red. She hoped Eleanor wouldn’t fall the teardrops falling onto her orange coat, hoped that they wouldn’t stain her dress and leave any evidence of the emotion slipping through the cracks, but ultimately could do nothing to stop it. She couldn’t bring herself to break away from the embrace–its warmth could have filled the whole of her starry domain.

Despite herself, she squeezed the Floatzel ever-so-slightly tighter, and did not let go until she was sound asleep in her lap. Polaris held her for some time even after that, still unwilling to leave this. When she finally collected herself, she disappeared in much the same way as she had arrived, vanishing through a gateway that did not exist, ceasing to intersect with Eleanor’s bedroom. She took great care to set Eleanor down gently as she went, silently thanking her the whole way, and silently vowing to make it to her next show. Even if Eleanor did not know she was there, Polaris would attend. For herself.

[hellsitechoosesitsownadventure]

Bestiary

Animate: a sentient or controlled mass of inorganic material vitalized by magic

Basilisk/Cockatrice: a draconic if creature whose sight turns things to stone

Blorbo: an animated pebble enthralled by Tumblr, sacrificed to escape the Nether.

Czenthmalu, the Celestial Phoenix: an immortal ethereal bird that foretells the beginning of the death of a plane of existence, it can be fended off by great magic, and spare the plane. (Imagine Groundhog Day but worse).

The Demon Boar of Yynthengól: a conjured boar of insurmountable size possessing fire aspects and extreme durability.  It was conjured in a skirmish between Yynthengól and Greifellen.  It is unknown which side conjured it. Slain by Tumblr, but possessed Vaylii. Slain again and permanently destroyed by the Nether.

Grei vo Melth: An angelic shapeshifting being that walks the earth seeking glorious battle or righteous deeds.

Kryxenn, the Night Ethereal: An unknown entity born from the Ether itself from sacrificial magic by the Yynthengól army.  It is immensely powerful and siphons raw ethereal energy from living creatures to sustain itself.  It lies dormant somewhere.

The Revenant Marquee: an undead corpse seeking revenge for it’s untimely death; temporarily pissed at Tumblr.

[stolencrownsofplenty]

@sclepurpose : x

“ Uh oh, ” browns drifted up to the sky, where droplets of rain began to fall. Minion, who’d thought for sure that the rain wasn’t supposed to come for yet another day, hadn’t brought his umbrella, and well…mechanical parts and water didn’t mix well together. So, quick as he could, he dashed underneath the marquee of the movie theater, not sparing the time to check what movies were showing. As he began ringing his fur out, he noticed someone else dashing over, and he lifted a hand as he shouted to get their attention.

“ It’s dry under here, hurry ! ”

Through their days they had gone to travel to other dimensions when their magic would rise to its most powerful, the modernization of these wide villages had never ceased to confuse the ram more than it did for the young mortals that adventured with them.  Buildings, which were made of the sturdiest rock and mud, that loomed taller than any celestial being they had ever seen, had felt like giants that even to the tall lamb they were little in comparison.  Clinging to their furry hip, where they had learned from their last exploration to keep a follower with them at all times, a short, gray anthropomorphic mouse had been walking in equal strides akin to their Leader’s wake; fixated upon keeping themselves hidden within the warmth of their dirt colored cloak, only in the hopes to keep themselves dry enough as the rain had started to slowly downpour onto this smooth rock path.  The Emperor could only burden the wet downpour for the time being, as while it would be quite difficult to dry out the tangles of their woven wool, while they looked for some type of shelter to keep the pair of them dry (as on par for their believer’s request).  It was more of an inconvenience really, but what else could they possibly do?

For when followers were often in short supply in these random dimensions they’d find themselves with, they could not deny the power of a servant when they had often kept them in good health.  Not only for their upkeep of service, but as well for the devotion they still must feed upon to survive.  Such weaknesses had to be guarded.  And for someone who had to keep their weakness protected?  They could not afford for even their most fragile devotion to turn against them as well.

Over the pattering rain as it smacked against the cold stone of this long walkway, their good eyes caught the quick movements of someone waving for their attention.  And just for their luck, where they were starting to feel they were losing hope in finding some type of shelter to keep them dry in this unpredictably windy storm, the soft chime of their earrings sing out the sudden perk of their mismatched long ears catching the calls of this strange fellow.  Their movements quickened, a hand quickly reaching down to grasp for their cargo’s shoulder to push them forward, as their long cloak flows out behind them to make a swift escape from the freezing rain.  Their short distance swiftly comes to a close in just a few long steps with their smaller company in tow, the overhanging (what they can only assume to be) rooftop generally lights up upon the duo’s arrival.  “Please!”  The smooth silk of their illusioned words familiarly forms within the divine tune of their voice.  “If it does not trouble you so, we shall not take up much room.”

The Emperor offers the friendly stranger a smile, or whatever they could afford from underneath the crimson shadows of their golden threaded veil.  As much as they did like to be open with their own appearances out in their own empire, even the lesser mortals they had visited to and from were not as welcoming to witness the madness of their omnipotent features.  They could not afford to scare someone, if they weren’t known to the dangers of their mysterious nature.  “Pray tell, does it rain here as often as people shall wander about?  Or should we pay kindness to the stranger who had just happened to have space empty for company to share?”

[devinschumacher]

The Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy // The Hitchhikers Guide Book Scene

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                            GUIDE VOICE (CONT'D)                     In many of the more relaxed civilizations                     on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy,                     the Hitchhiker's Guide has already                     supplanted the great Encyclopedia                     Galactica as the standard repository of                     all knowledge and wisdom. For though it                     has many omissions, and contains much                     which is apocryphal, or at least wildly                     inaccurate, it scores over the older, more                     pedestrian work in two important respects.                     First, it is slightly cheaper. And second,                     it has the words "DON'T PANIC" printed in                     large friendly letters on its cover.

       The book closes. The words "DON'T PANIC" appear just        below the title, blinking like a tacky diner marquee.

       PULL BACK FROM THE GUIDE to find Arthur holding it, the        blinking light illuminating his very disoriented face.

▁▁▁▁▁ ⏱ Chapters:

0:00  The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book... 0:15  ...Perhaps the most remarkable, certainly the most successful book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor. 0:45 First, it is slightly cheaper. 1:00 And second, it has the words "DON'T PANIC" printed in large friendly letters on its cover.

▁▁▁▁▁ The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy [FREE] 📗 Ebook [FREE] : https://amzn.to/3kAyoEN 🎧 Audiobook [FREE] : https://amzn.to/3wn3wdi 📚 6-Book Series [FREE]: https://amzn.to/3kAUCqh 🍿 The Movie [FREE]: https://amzn.to/3wh7CUx

▁▁▁▁▁ 🧑‍⚖️ LEGAL:

This video is NOT sponsored. Some links are affiliate links, which means if you buy through that link I will receive a small commission at no additional expense to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Read more about our disclaimers & disclosures for all videos: https://devinschumacher.com/legal/

[abbyanne-sari-sari]

Happy New Year everyone! 🥂🍾

This is our first release for 2021, Anthem's Celestial theme! 🌑🌠🌟

Sari-Sari - Celestial Moon Marquee Light Original mesh and textures, materials enabled, 3 LI, copy/mod

Sari-Sari - Zodiac Pendant Light Original mesh and textures, materials enabled2 li (extra chain - 1 li each), copy/mod Available in 3 color options - gold, onyx, and silver. If you need a longer chain on the light, we have included a separate chain that is able to be added on. 😊

Event opens Jan 3rd! Happy 2021! May it be safer for everyone. 💖

[mintly]

Days 1, 2, 3. Ghosts, Bones, Graveyard

I’m playing very fast and loose with these prompts, forgive me.

***

The end of the world came and went. The Earth and its billions of humans stumbled onward, as they always had, in their endless, miraculous circles about the Sun. The seasons changed too, as they always had—that first final August morphing to September and then shivering into October, the leaves littering golden across London’s greenspaces. It was a familiar scene, and a welcome one. Autumn arrived in the same way it had for the past six thousand odd years. The routine was reassuring.

But that wasn’t to say that evil, for lack of a better word, wasn’t lurking in dark corners, in graveyards, in the scrolling stock market marquee. It wasn’t to say there was no improbable, horrifying event on the horizon, just as potentially catastrophic as the averted apocalypse or even more so, in certain schools of thought.

Familiarity was dangerous. The passage of time had a way of dulling memory, of easing fears, even in those immortal beings who might otherwise notice tiny, incremental changes in the fabric of reality. Particularly if there were other pressing matters to attend to.

***

“Red or white?” 

“Oh, more of this, I should think,” Aziraphale said. He watched the dregs of their previous bottle drop into his glass. The wine rippled, creating perfect waves in a blood red sea.

Aziraphale heard a crash in the other room, followed by a quick string of curses. After a moment Crowley emerged from the backroom, victorious with bottle in hand, though dustier than when he left.

“That table fell over all on its own, honest.” Crowley held up his hands.

“I’m sure.”

Aziraphale snatched the bottle and began the arduous process of drunkenly wiggling the cork free.

“It’s true! That Macbeth was just waiting to throw itself to the floor.”

“Suitably dramatic.”

“‘S what I thought.”

The pair of them met up for dinner once or twice a week, usually resolving in an evening of drinking and increasingly nonsensical conversation. So, not much had changed. Aziraphale wasn’t terribly fussed. He’d always been doing what he wanted to, more or less, except now he didn’t have quarterly celestial reviews. 

Ah, right. Aziraphale gave up on the corkscrew and miracled the cork away to either the void between atoms or somewhere in rural Mongolia. One couldn’t be certain.

Without fear of reprimand or need for exaggerated self-justification, it almost took the excitement out of it. Almost.

Aziraphale filled Crowley’s glass and passed it to him on the couch. Their fingers brushed, briefly, and the ghost of sensation sparkled there, for just a moment. He sat back into his chair and tipped wine into his own glass.

He turned away as Crowley settled into one of his signature sprawls on the couch. Something about the way his shirt would ride up over his belt always did something funny to Aziraphale’s heartbeat. He used to fear he had some sort of an arrhythmia. Although, admittedly, it seemed unlikely in his Heaven-granted corporation. He stopped reading medical texts after that.

Aziraphale squinted at the bookshop windows. The first hint of morning light was wading its way through two hundred years of caked grime and dirt.

“We should go to the park.”

“What, now? I don’t know about you, but I can barely get two feet under me at the moment.”

“Sober up a touch then. I doubt there will be many humans there so early, but you know the pond’s lovely this time of day and some fresh air would do both of us good.”

“Espousing public drunkenness, angel? If only Heaven could see you now.”

“They wouldn’t dare say anything about it after our little stunt. Oh, indulge me, you old snake.”

Crowley groaned before curling upright into a sitting position in a manner that suggested a few too many vertebrae. He’d never quite figured out human bones.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” Crowley said.

Crowley tried to sound put-upon, but Aziraphale found it came out rather fond instead. The edges of his exposed yellow eyes crinkled with amusement, and Aziraphale, pleased, smiled back, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. And, for now at least, it was that simple.

Next

[rustbeltjessie]

Utopia Parkway

after Joseph Cornell’s Penny Arcade Portrait of Lauren Bacall, 1945-46

Marble steps cascade like stereopticon frames of quays along the Seine he’s ready to descend, a folio beneath his arm or yellowed pages wreathed in the aura of French, a cache of star maps and movie stills, Lauren Bacall.

Parisian breezes siphon off into slight vacuums left in air by the passage of young men wheeling racks of suits and dresses toward the Garment District. New York and the twilit Public Library steps where each instant spins

a galaxy of signs—the flushed marquees and newsboys’ shouts fold into hoarse cries, street vendors of former times when parrots picked fortune cards from drawers beneath their hurdy-gurdy cages outside Coney Island’s Penny Arcade. Toward

Times Square, streaming taillights weave nets of connections carmine as Bacall’s lips ticked pout in Screenplay Magazine, and the whole bedazzled city’s a magnificent arcade one might arrange in a cabinet, those amusement-park contraptions worked by coins

or tinted wooden balls traveling runways to set into motion compartment after compartment, a symphony of sight and sound into fantasy, into the streets of New York through Oriental skies, until the balls come to rest

in their tray releasing a shower of prizes: a milliner’s illuminated display of hats, the stamp hat tilted over Bacall’s arched eyebrows, filings spread across the inspector’s desk, her sullen gaze. On Utopia Parkway, in his workshop, Bacall’s

dossier’s lain for months untouched among springs and dolls’ heads, ballerinas arcing through charted celestial spheres, that music. Hoagy Carmichael’s heard offstage as he threads the rush-hour crowd. A typist’s crooked stocking seams

recall with affection the actress on her way up— the modeling jobs, ushering in New York. The box will work by a rolling ball wandering afield into childhood, an insight into the lives of countless young women who never knew, may never know, any other home

than the plainest of furnished rooms, a drab hotel. The drama of a room by lamplight, hotel neon in To Have and Have Not. Carmichael’s “Hong Kong Blues,” blue glass like the night-blue of early silent films— an atmosphere of cabaret songs, “How Little We Know.”

Fog, the boat scenes, and each compartment becomes a silver screen. Offstage music, and now we hear the music in Cornell’s eternity as the actress takes her place among the constellations, Cygnus, the Pleiades, one of the Graces.

—Lynda Hull, from Collected Poems

[bionicallywriting]

Prompt: Hermione/Bill, pining

Word Count: 1712

For @frumpologist

Scant Love Not

While flowering, ladies, scant love not

Lest all your fruit

Be but this black outcrop of stones

—Sylvia Plath, Two Sisters of Persephone

As someone who prided herself as an intellectual, it was perhaps appropriate that Hermione would be knocked off her lofty perch by a massively inexplicable infatuation.

She had always admired Ron’s tall, broad-shouldered build; he had the type of naturally athletic figure that sent very unintellectual butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He looked like how a man should; strong, tall, with the bluest eyes she had ever seen on a person. It was not—well, unnatural that she should develop a tiny crush on him. They had grown up together, after all, and what girl hadn’t fantasised about marrying her childhood sweetheart? 

It was just a pity that they weren’t interested in the same things at all and that most of their conversations were so contentious that she was annoyed for weeks afterwards. Everything she said seemed to set Ron off and vice versa. Sometimes she found him so irritating that she wanted to hex his face off.

Then Hermione met Bill Weasley.

Suddenly she understood her infatuation with Ron was just a small, miniscule shadow of the real thing.

It was terrible to compare brothers. Hermione knew this. Ron was the last of the brothers, and Bill had been the first, the scion, the bright star in the happy horizon of Molly and Arthur’s blissful nuptials. Their upbringing would have been completely different, and yet—

—And yet, Hermione couldn’t help seeing in Bill all the things she had admired in Ron, and more.

Everything about Bill Weasley was just more. He was the best looking of the brothers, with a cleancut, chiseled jawline that Hermione couldn’t help but peer at and admire secretly. Less superficial than his looks, however, was his intelligence, his love of books and knowledge, and his gentlemanly chivalry. Everything about him was just more, more, more, and Hermione couldn’t help but compare every single boy she met after that to him.

It was unfair. She knew this. He was almost a decade older. She knew this too. He was completely out of her league since she was still in school and his little brother’s friend. She knew all of this.

—And yet, it didn’t dim her infatuation. Not one bit.

xxx

Every year that Bill remained single was another year in which Hermione hoped and prayed to grow up to be his equal. It was hard not letting her fantasies get out of control when he finally announced his intention of returning to Gringotts in London. 

This was a sign—wasn't it?

The logical part of Hermione's brain had gone on permanent vacation, replaced by someone who had perpetual heart eyes whenever she thought of Bill Weasley. It got so bad that her relationship with Ron was more acrimonious than ever. Before, she had swallowed her ire in favour of diplomacy, but now that civility had been exchanged for a coldness that rivaled first year animosity. Harry, bless his heart, submerged in the troubles of the Tournament and on the outs with Ron, didn’t even notice.

She no longer waited for Ron to step up and be a man anymore—no, she had someone else in mind for that. When Viktor Krum asked her to the Yule Ball, it hadn’t been with Viktor in mind that she accepted. In the back of her mind, she had thought, older boys liked her. They found her attractive. Wouldn’t he also?

She was turning ugly and dark on the inside, but the grip of a teenage infatuation was strong, overpowering. She was doodling his name on her notebooks rather than notes from class. Something inside her told her she was being unfair to Ron, that she should do something to heal the rift between him and Harry, but her mind was focused on other things. Other possibilities for the future. A meeting between two minds. 

Surely he’d see her. He’d really and truly see her, not as a little girl, but as an equal.

xxx

It was a shock when Ginny first mentioned that Bill was dating Fleur Delacour. 

He couldn’t. Hermione listened with white-lipped shock.

“Two months now,” Ginny said with a grimace. “Ugh, I can’t stand her.”

Ginny had a fairly good relationship with all her brothers, but with Bill and the age gap between them, there was a special bond. She was filled with acrimony at the interloper Fleur. She was haughty, she was snooty, she thought everything about England was terrible—then why didn’t she simply go away and leave Bill alone?

In her thudding heart, Hermione couldn’t agree more. “Maybe it’s not serious.”

“Merlin, I hope not.” Ginny rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror and added another layer of lip gloss. “I couldn’t stand her during the Tournament, what with Ron following her everywhere, but now this is even worse.”

It was much worse. Hermione remembered Fleur’s unnatural effect on Ron, and her heart sank. What if—what if the Weasleys were more susceptible to Veela than other wizards? Harry hadn’t been as affected, after all, nor some of the other boys in class. Ron—perhaps Ron had been a special case?

Ron wasn’t a special case, and Bill proved it by proposing to Fleur over the disapproval of his mother. 

“They were going to live abroad, but then Bill decided to settle down in England.” Despite her gloomy air, Ginny managed to pop an astounding three Cauldron cakes at a time into her mouth. “I hope they’re not going to live at home. I can’t stand to have all of my brothers mooning over her. What makes her so special anyway?”

“She’s—”

“She’s not even that pretty. It’s completely the Veela thing, because all the other girls in school thought she was too bony and pointy-looking. Kind of like a bird, if you ask me.”

“It’s not the looks,” Hermione said, remembering what had been in her textbook. 

“I know.” Ginny’s subdued response was almost covered up by the rustling she made digging around inside the snack box. “I know. It’s the allure. They could be as ugly as a troll, and nobody would care.”

“Yeah.” Hermione was feeling fairly gloomy herself. If someone like Fleur, who was already thin and elegant and pretty, had on top of that the allure of a Veela, what chance did bookish, frizzy-haired Hermione have? None. Added to it all was her age. She was fifteen. The distance, in mere numbers, meant nothing to her, but in practical terms, Bill could have physically been on the moon itself.

“Let’s hope she latches onto someone else.” Ginny tossed the empty cauldron cake box across the room towards the rubbish bin. 

Hermione turned to watch the box spin a little before going in the bin. She turned and smiled at Ginny before shaking her head. “Will she though? I mean, Bill’s pretty—” She caught herself before she spilled out all her feelings towards him. She bit her tongue before continuing. “He’s a really good catch.”

“I know. He’s tall, he’s good-looking, he’s extremely charming. He even makes a lot of money at Gringotts, much more than she does, since she’s just starting out. I just don’t see how she could find someone better, considering that she’s part-Veela, and—” Ginny’s voice dropped to a stage whisper “—not exactly acceptable to a lot of Purebloods.”

Then what chance do I have? Hermione thought mournfully to herself. Aloud, she could only repeat her words again, “Yeah. I know.”

xxx

They were married.

Before the bridal party came down, Hermione bumped into Bill outside near the marquee.

“Beg pardon,” Bill said instinctively, hands clasping Hermione on the upper arms to steady her. He glanced down and smiled, as though only realising it was her. “Oh, Hermione, how are you?”

“Good, good.” Hermione felt and sounded, to her own ears, a little breathless.

“You look lovely in that dress.” Bill was smiling in his usual open, charming way. Hermione thought miserably that any children Bill and Fleur were bound to have would have an unnaturally unfair advantage over the rest of the population.

“Thank you,” she said, keeping her eyes down so that her love for him wouldn’t shine through so obviously. Her fingers twisted at a fold in her skirt.

“I’ve heard from Ron that—well, you’re probably the only reason those two are still alive and kicking, aren’t you?” His voice lowered, as though imparting a joke, and a sliver of awareness crawled up Hermione’s spine.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s vastly overstating my—contributions.” She was floundering for small talk. This was misery, and yet she did not want it to end.

“Anyway, thank you for helping out. This can’t be that much fun for you.”

“It’s—nothing,” she said, her voice trailing off as his attention was called away. Hermione was left staring after his disappearing figure. The pangs she put into her own appearance seemed silly now. Had she truly wanted him to see what he was missing? She felt like an idiot now.

She felt even worse when the ceremony started, and Fleur came through the archway looking like a fairy princess. She glowed so brightly that she might have been an actual celestial star passing through the darkness of their presence. When everyone watched and gasped over Fleur’s appearance, all Hermione’s attention was fastened on Bill’s profile. Her heart twisted inside her chest.

She wished with all her might that he was looking at her in that way.

[thesoviette]

Illustrator Ardneks: each of the images in “MARQUEES TROPiCA” were created while one song was being played on repeat. From above: 

MOONAGE ODDiTY Song: David Bowie — Space Oddity

CELESTiAL BROADCAST Song: The Jesus and Mary Chain — Just Like Honey

COASTAL JUiCEBOX Song: Tatsuro Yamashita — 風の回廊(コリドー)

STRAWBERRY LETTER Song: Jacks — 時計をとめて

SUNFLOWERMiLK ViBRATiONS Song: The Beach Boys — Don’t Worry Baby

[hannahlhnd2021]

illusion post production

Layer masks are important in photoshop as they help you choose which parts of a layer are and aren’t visible. You use one of the selection tools to make a selection and then click create layer mask, which isolates your selection from the rest of the layer and makes it ‘disappear’.

Types of selection tools in Photoshop include Quick Mask, Rectangular marquee, Elliptical marquee, Lasso, Polygonal Lasso, Magnetic Lasso and Magic Wand.

What they do:

A Quick Mask temporarily turns the area inside your selection a semi-opaque red so that you can see what part of the image you have and have not selected. https://phlearn.com/tutorial/photoshop-basics-quick-mask-mode/#:~:text=How%20the%20Quick%20Mask%20Tool,have%20and%20have%20not%20selected.

As the name implies, the Rectangular Marquee Tool is perfect for times when you need to draw a selection in the shape of a rectangle or a square. https://www.photoshopessentials.com/basics/selections/rectangular-marquee-tool/

The Elliptical Marquee Tool is the tool of choice for selecting moons, planets and other round celestial bodies. https://www.photoshopessentials.com/basics/selections/elliptical-marquee-tool/

The lasso tool operates on the active layer of an image, and is used by clicking and dragging to trace the edges of a selection. Most software supports multiple closed contours, which can be selected by crossing over the edge path multiple times. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lasso_tool

Photoshop's Polygonal Lasso Tool, another of its basic selections tools, is a bit like a cross between the Rectangular Marquee Tool and the standard Lasso Tool, both of which we looked at in previous tutorials. It allows us to easily draw freeform selection outlines based on straight-sided polygonal shapes. https://www.photoshopessentials.com/basics/selections/polygonal-lasso-tool/#:~:text=Photoshop's%20Polygonal%20Lasso%20Tool%2C%20another,on%20straight%2Dsided%20polygonal%20shapes.

To use the Magnetic Lasso Tool, click on the edge of your object where you want your selection to begin, and then follow the object as closely as you can with the mouse. The Magnetic Lasso Tool will snap to the edge of the object as you follow it. https://pathedits.com/blogs/tips/beginners-guide-photoshop-tools

The Photoshop Magic Wand Tool is a quick and easy way to select and mask certain portions of an image, giving you the ability to alter one part of your image while leaving other parts intact. ... The Magic Wand Tool works by selecting an area of solid color within an image. https://pathedits.com/blogs/tips/magic-wand-tool-select-mask-photoshop#:~:text=Your%20Product%20Photos-,What%20Is%20the%20Magic%20Wand%20Tool%3F,while%20leaving%20other%20parts%20intact.&text=The%20Magic%20Wand%20Tool%20works,solid%20color%20within%20an%20image.

[jefferyryanlong]

FEEL with DJ Jeff Long - January 31, 2018

supermoon playlist - celebrate the celestial

Blue Moon - Elvis Presley Marquee Moon - Television What a Little Moonlight Can Do - Billie Holiday A Sailboat in the Moonlight - Billie Holiday Moonglow - Django Reinhardt Big Sur Moon - Buckethead Moon Dreams - MIles Davis Nonet Moons - Myriad3 NIghtlife - Bonobo A Night in Tunisia - Dizzy Gillespie Dark Star - The Grateful Dead Moons and Cattails - Linda Perhacs Midnight Special - Van Morrison Blue Moon - The Marcels Harvest Moon (live) - Neil Young The Moon - Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova Moonlight Mile  The Rolling Stones Child of the Moon - The Rolling Stones  Fly Me to the Moon - Bobby Womack Space (live) - Gabor Szabo Get Out and Get Under the Moon - 1920′s Hawaiian  Moonlight Lady - Gabby Pahinui  Pink Moon - Nick Drake Blue Moon Revisited (Song for Elvis)* - The Cowboy Junkies Luna* - Smashing Pumpkins Blood on the Moon - Hot Lips Page Moonlight Serenade - Glenn Miller Blue Moon - Bob Dylan Dark Was the Night - The Kronos Quartet Big Moon - Arthur Russell In Dreams - Roy Orbison Galileo - Indigo Girls Blue Moon - Big Star The Night Life - Willie Nelson Lunar Days* - The Clientele Big Louise - Scott Walker Moon River - Audrey Hepburn and Henry Mancini Sail to the Moon (Brush the Cobwebs of the Sky) - Radiohead Whitey on the Moon - Gil-Scott Heron Moon Turn the Tides...Gently, Gently Away - The Jimi Hendrix Experience Moonjock - Animal Collective Clair de Lune - Kamasi Washington

* - by request

KTUH FM Honolulu -ktuh.org

[gabbybaker99]

#Repost @moonrisefest with @get_repost ・・・ New Artist Addition! Robotaki joins us in the Celestial Garden! Coming into the spotlight with his top-tier remix work, and being recognized for his impeccable sounds, Preston Chin, the man behind the moniker is enveloping the world with a powerful new take on funk, disco, and experimental sounds. His debut single Ghostboy reached #1 on the Global Viral chart on Spotify & resulted in a key support slot across the entirety of Porter Robinson & Madeon’s “Shelter Tour”, major festivals, and international headlines. His debut project “Science” was released to critical acclaim on Majestic Casual’s imprint and the following headlining Live tour had multiple sold out shows across 15 dates in North America and Asia. Multiple singles from the EP heard airtime on the BBC, KCRW, and CBC, while the streaming figures have grown to over 20M across all platforms. With placement on multiple marquee playlists across Spotify, and deemed one of Apple Music’s Best of the Year, the “Science” EP is surely to have a long lasting life. Robotaki is now armed with a new arsenal of music featuring his own vocals, all original instrumentation, and will be released on Odesza’s Foreign Family imprint. The body of work named “Anachronism” will be sure to turn heads on a global scale. Tag your Mooncrew and comment #watchthemoonrise for your chance to win Moonrise prizes! - - #moonrisefestival #baltimore #steezpromo #glow #edm #summerfestivals #festivalseason #summer2019 #dubstep #housemusic #trapmusic #maryland #bassmusic #headbangers #musicfestival #robotaki https://www.instagram.com/p/B0jKv8mjVBHe1zovSNjt3TU6DV012ScvG1XVNQ0/?igshid=14ofkh5z19kwy

[kerbaldevteam]

A new update for KSP Enhanced Edition is live!

Hello Kerbonauts! 

A new update for Kerbal Space Program Enhanced Edition is live! 

This update includes a number of quality-of-life-features , including the ability to seamlessly switch between the SPH and the VAB without leaving the editor, plus a Maneuver Widget for fine tuning maneuvers during interplanetary flights.  Console players  have  now also access to Camera Mode, which allows to take cool screenshots without the UI showing up and the ability to move the camera around when the game is paused in flight. A good deal of fixes has also been packed into this update, and for Breaking Ground players we have included the R-062, R-12 and R-25 Ducted Fan Blades to the part inventory, among several other things.

Check out this patch's Changelog for further details:

Quality of Life Updates

* Sliders now display units in the Part Action Window where appropriate * Added Marquee scrolling to a few PAW items for when the text is super long. Text is ellipsis in this case and on mouse over will move left then right * Updated the Future suit glow color picker position to prevent it from hovering the Kerbal preview * Intended duplicated group-actions have a marker to distinguish the part side * Converter actions now indicate resource type to differentiate them * Hide UI elements that aren't being used and avoid unnecessary updates in flight mode * The PAW start position doesn't block the center of the screen * Maneuver Widget for Fine Tuning Maneuvers * Pinned labels in map view now persist pinned even when leaving and re-entering map view * Add new Cheat option in the Debug Menu - Set Position to teleport a vessel to a position relative to the surface of a celestial body * Editor switcher - switching between SPH and VAB without leaving the editor * Made staging and docking UI available in map view * Persist Aero GUI UI debug window setting and Debug Aero info in PAWs setting between game sessions * Add an EVA button when opening the Transfer Crew dialogue via the PAW

New Features

* Fuel cells can be set started in the VAB or SPH for launch * Added EVA button to the crew transfer dialog. Functions the same as the crew hatch dialog EVA button * Solar Panel and RTG now displays the power units produced based on Experience trait settings in the Part extended tooltip * Add function to “back-off” the camera when switching vessels to prevent the camera from starting inside vessels * Added action groups for the fan blades for toggling the Roll, Yaw and Pitch controls independently and also turn them all ON or OFF * Added Camera mode (unlocked camera movement controls) when game is paused in flight and you hide the UI * Ability to edit Action Groups in flight * Add ability to edit numerical value fields in PAWs using the key input

New Parts and Updates

* Add rock/dirt debris FX to the Drill-O-Matic and Drill-O-Matic Junior * Fix LV-N engine FX particle offset

Fixed Issues

* Wheels and vessel will remain stable after time warping. * Kerbals performing EVAs now show in the proper tab in the astronaut complex after their initial craft has been recovered in flight. * The Hack Gravity cheat can be reset to the default value by moving the slider to 1.00, pressing the reset button, or unchecking the box to disable the feature * The camera will now be placed an appropriate distance and away from large crafts or objects when switching scenes throughout gameplay. * The cursor can no longer be opened while on the Open Vessel menu *  The altimeter buttons are no longer functional while holding deployed science. This prevents the icons from getting stuck on scene change. * "Return to Space Center" and "Cancel Strategy" buttons are now functional when activating 5 resource strategies in the Administration Building. * Look around cursor is present and works accordingly when toggling it with [L3] throughout flight. *  Kerbals now remain in their pre-flight state when immediately reverting to the VAB/SPH through the flight results menu after a vessel is crashed. * More info will now automatically scroll when viewing the additional information. The scroll will move accordingly, stopping at the top and bottom for a few seconds before continuing. * (Xbox) Infinite propellant cheat no longer causes drops in performance when flying a craft with the throttle set to zero. * The title's memory usage and frame rate should now remain stable when using the tweak mode on parts while 'Simplified' is the active preset. * The cursor is automatically activated, and fairing previews now display in real time when choosing "Build Fairing" in the fairing PAW when using simplified preset. * (PS4) The Approach information for the maneuver instantly updates when an intercept is found with a target or celestial body in Map Mode with any Controller Preset throughout gameplay. * The Text Maneuver Editor window now opens accordingly when a Maneuver Node is placed/ adjusted from Map Mode with all control presets.  * The tooltip for 'approach info' now updates to display the name of any celestial body or vessel that is being targeted by the active vessel. When untargeted, the tooltip updates to display this. * The place cross-section prompt is replaced by a blue "Close Fairing" prompt when it is possible to terminate the fairing to another part. * The rename button next to action sets 1-4 will now function when used.

History and Parts Pack

* Contracts that require DLC specific parts no longer appear in Mission Control while the specific DLC is not installed in a Career Playthrough.

Breaking Ground

* Adjusted the Remove Row button in KAL to only delete the row when clicking on the red cross, not the whole segment * Stock Breaking Ground Vessel Updates *R-062, R-12 and R-25 Ducted Fan Blades * The remove track function's clickable area is confined to the red X button

If you want to continue helping us out by providing us with feedback and bug reports, you can do so through our Bugtracker or Private Division’s customer support platform.

Happy Launchings!

[organssos]

Angelina Jolie Is 'In Talks' To Star In Marvel's The Eternals

The Oscar winner, who had previously been discussed to direct Captain Marvel, is "in talks" to star in The Eternals, directed by rising filmmaker Chloé Zhao. Marvel fans speculated about Jolie's potential role in the film, while others needed a refresher on the backstory. Angelina Jolie is in talks to star in her first Marvel movie The Eternals, a superhero team adventure feature directed by The Rider's Chloe Zhao.

Chloe zao is an amazing director this movie is Gonna be awesome. What if Angelina Jolie is in The Eternals in the same way that Bradley Cooper and Vin Diesel were in Guardians of the Galaxy? I'm not even sure what my point is I just wanted some or that sweet, sweet trending action this isn't that surprising. Angie is a disney marquee player now, so, marvel is keeping it in the family. Chloe zhao is a fucking great talent, so why not work with her? That's it. that's all my points. Jolie has chosen the Marvel project based on the Jack Kirby-created title about superpowered and near-immortal beings known as Eternals and a more monstrous offshoot known as the Deviants that were created by the cosmic beings called Celestials.

While details about the movie are being kept under wraps, sources tell The Hollywood Reporter that one aspect to the story involves the love story between Ikaris, a man fueled by cosmic energy, and Sersi, who relishes moving amongst humans. It is unclear who Jolie will play. Marvel had no comment. Zhao, an award-winning indie director behind the critical hits The Rider and Songs My Brothers Taught Me, will helm from a script by Matthew and Ryan Firpo. While this will be Jolie’s first superhero movie, it is not her first comic book movie— she starred in the 2007 adaptation of Mark Millar’s Wanted.

Jolie is currently working with Marvel's parent company Disney on the upcoming Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, which was recently moved up to a release date this fall from spring 2020, and on the animation/live-action hybrid The One and Only Ivan, which she is also producing. Read the full article

[atcostmag]

Harlequin Gold - Take Me Home

Kelowna-raised sisters Avery and Elle O'Brien are the Canadian duo of Harlequin Gold who yield an exhilarating indie-rock sound. With their first EP “baby blue” under their belt, their most recent record features marquee single “Take Me Home” an upbeat rush of yearning pop emotion. A track written about the impermanence of time, the track races through its resonant guitar scale. Converging towards its blissful guitar sustain, the energetic track is juxtaposed by the slower, reassuring warmth of the sisters’ vocals. Juxtaposing their lead single to the album, “baby blue” features the gentle ease of “I Was Your Girl”. Featuring the subdued tone of its muted percussion, the track puts on display the sisters’ honeyed vocal glow and glistening melodic harmonies which float unimpededly towards its celestial apex.

You can check out the tracks below: 

“I Was Your Girl”

HARLEQUIN GOLD · I Was Your Girl

“Take Me Home”

HARLEQUIN GOLD · Take Me Home