#Content & Technology

[canlynews]

Texas Instruments Names Haviv Ilan as New Chief Executive

The 24-year company veteran will take the top role at the chip maker. Source link

[reportwire]

'This situation is unprecedented': 10 crazy things detailed in FTX’s bankruptcy filing

‘This situation is unprecedented’: 10 crazy things detailed in FTX’s bankruptcy filing

On Thursday, John Ray, III, the new CEO of FTX, dropped a long-awaited declaration in U.S. bankruptcy court, giving a sober assessment of the collapse of Sam Bankman-Fried’s crypto empire. The bankruptcy-court filing followed a whirlwind of events, including the publication of explosive texts Bankman-Fried sent to a Vox reporter earlier this week.    Ray set the tone for what he has found since…

[stealingyourbones]

*slowly shuffles a wooden box of finger bones towards you* so I have two ideas for you

So, what if ghosts like, really screw with video technology, so it all kind of looks corrupted at all times- so when Danny starts recording like a blog of daily like in amity park (maybe as a way to cope with Trauma) and he posts it, maybe people outside of amity could think it’s all just like, an ARG or analog horror- if you want to go with dc/dp here, tim could be trying to solve a nonexistent mystery

For idea two, do you know ab the mystery flesh pit? If you don’t it’s basically an unreality where a gigantic super organism is turned into a National park and it’s then shit down when the organism basically coughs in its sleep and destroys a lot of stuff-( also be warned, there is a lot of body horror involved in this, so if anyone’s sensitive to it maybe don’t look at any content!) so maybe Giant Danny is taking a nap and some villains find the GIANT GHOST TAKING A SLEEP and decide to hook him up to be used as like, a battery or Lazerus pit (if you go the route of his blood being lazerus water) and the heroes get involved trying to figure out what’s happening

oh man that would be so fun. Danny just takes a little school project 10 minute documentary of the town and doesn't think too much of it when he submits it to Youtube so he can send it to his teacher.

A week later and every ARG/Analog Horror nerd on the planet has heard about this brilliantly well produced video called "Amity Park"

Now knowing this, He decides to have some fun. He takes ominous shots of mundane Amity life and splices them between the more normal scenes of himself and his friends having fun and hanging out.

He amps up the uncanny level. Throughout all of his videos, he starts to tell a slightly dramatized version of his life, not the Phantom stuff, but his life as a Fenton.

The whole world watches in awe and delight as this refreshingly new Analog Horror channel posts nearly twice a week with some of the most stunning CGI that they've ever seen. I mean 'c'mon, Sentient food. A child living in the house of two mad scientists who casually mention dismembering and destroying ghosts at the dinner table. An honest to god crazy scientist lab with a massive portal to this 'Ghost Zone' just in their basement?! Yeah, whoever made this has an absolutely incredible imagination. (Some people are even dissing it since this GZ really just feels like a warped version of The Backrooms but it's fine, it's unique enough that it makes up for it.)

------

I am a hoe for any and every topic that Wendigoon talks about in his videos so I very much so know about the Mystery Flesh Pit. (Video is linked but be warned; Benji isn't joking when they say that it's a LOT of body horror.)

I'd like to propose that Danny isn't even on earth, he's on a different planet that has collected his blood and harnessed his core for energy on a massive scale, helping create and produce items that benefit their world greatly.

To Danny, Their mining, harvesting, and energy draining efforts are the equivalent to bacteria moving around his body. He's so massive that this civilization isnt impacting him in the slightest.

The JL get called because this strange planet superorganism is now moving and it's causing the destruction of an entire civilization.

They fly over to the planet and they notice something very very wrong with the shape of the planet.

First and foremost, the two eyes spanning the equivalent width of Texas that stares up at their ship is new.

[ctrlsatoru]

DIABLO - TOJI FUSHIGURO

content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to sexual assault. toji having no sense of decorum. reader is engaged so, cheating? but not really and not yet. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k a/n: i was listening to diablo by lexie liu and the rest was herstory. started as porn without plot but things escalated. will proofread this later. summary: Toji Fushiguro looks like a problem, and you know better than to let curiosity get the best of you, until boredom strikes.

There was a time when you speed-walked through this very same building with the drive that only a determined intern could contain. Six days a week, from busy mornings to late nights, you embraced every task they tossed your way, seamlessly transitioning between the demands of different editors.

In the midst of it, one newly appointed creative director saw your efforts and took you under her wing. What began as a professional mentorship soon evolved into an enduring friendship that extended well beyond your time at the magazine.

Utahime Iori, a guiding presence in your life, became one of your favorite people in the world—a friend with whom you shared an unspoken understanding, effortlessly reading each other's thoughts with a single exchange of glances across the room.

Fast-forward five years, and the abrupt, intrusive ring of your phone tucked under the pillow shook you awake. It was Iori on the line, her voice laden with urgency and distress. She was stuck in Kyoto, needing you to do her a solid one. Her father’s condition had worsened overnight, and she wouldn’t be able to make it back to Tokyo for a critical photoshoot.

And so, here you stand, back at the bustling headquarters of the technology and culture magazine where you started your career. Despite your throbbing headache and the relentless fatigue that clings to your tired eyelids, you refuse to let your friend down.

Today's mission: capturing profile photos for an enigmatic tech mogul, a figure so elusive that no magazine has ever managed to secure an interview or collaboration. Probably some Zuckerberg from shein with an amped-up eccentric, incel overlord edge.

Iori had shared the name and a brief overview of the assignment during her desperate call, but the details had slipped through your grasp in the haze of your concern for her.

If you remember correctly, the concept is something corny along the lines of Diablo. 

“Ok,” you breathe after the third scalding gulp of coffee that someone thrust in your hand the second you arrived.

Utahime's assistant, a young girl with striking blue hair and asymmetrical bangs named Miwa, looks up from her phone at you with bright eyes, relieved that you’re finally showing signs of life. 

“Uh, who the fuck is this guy again?” 

You’re momentarily distracted by how cold this place is. A shiver cuts a straight line up your spine. July in Tokyo is no justification for keeping the set at industrial fridge temperature, you think. For some reason, Miwa’s opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of the water. You know Utahime can make any seasoned truck driver sound graceful when she’s under enough pressure, so it can’t be your choice of words.

You fail to notice your surroundings coming to a stop, or the shadow towering over you.

“Toji. Toji Fushiguro.”

Oh.

That's one way to sober you up.

You’re definitely awake after hearing the deep yet smooth rumble behind you. Everyone within earshot gets ready for what’ll happen next as that oh shit realization settles on your shoulders.

But you’re no longer the eager intern who hid in the bathroom to cry after a rookie mistake. Nothing in your face gives away your heart threatening to crawl out of your ribcage. You turn around bravely and face a soft, dark blue surface. 

No choice left but to look up… and up again, until he’s framed inside the thin silver structure of your glasses.

Your first impression of him is simple: no one this tall should stand at this close of a distance. There should be two, or three meters between you to make up for the lack of an acceptable height.

Toji Fushiguro -the name does stick this time- tilts his head to the side and gives you what might be the most shameless once-over. His eyes feel like a dark green horizontal light scanning you from head to toe. It ends with a quizzical expression on his face. The irk is triggered within the second.

“Who are you?”

That same question pops into your mind.

The hair team probably spent twice the time it took you to get here on LA traffic to arrange his inky black hair in the perfect unbothered way. There’s a healthy glow on the sharp edges of his face that can only be the result of seamless natural makeup, enhancing his ruggedly handsome looks. 

You’re thinking that by too big, Iori meant that he’s massive. Literally. Wide shoulders block the tungsten spotlight behind him, casting a shadow on you and drawing a luminous halo around his silhouette. 

Nothing’s angelic about him. You can tell just by looking. It’s a family gift. You may not have your brother’s electric baby blues, but you have the sight, as he calls it, and the alarms in your head are off.

Miwa shifts her gaze between you like she’s about to shit herself when Choso, the head photographer and a good friend of yours, cuts through the tense atmosphere with admirable ease. He rests a warning hand on your shoulder and takes it upon himself to introduce you. 

"She'll be our director today, stepping in for Utahime."

Toji Fushiguro turns to Choso, his eyes never leaving you, observing. 

“Why? What happened to Utahime?”

"She had an unexpected family emergency and asked her to fill in. She's worked with us before, and she's excellent at what she does. You're in capable hands today."

What a star, Choso. A beacon of diplomacy. The world would be a much more peaceful place and the arms industry would collapse if he got into politics, you’re sure. 

Still under his scrutiny, your expression remained composed. You knew his steely smile would fade soon, and—

“Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Toji concludes breezily, extending his hand toward you.

You reciprocate. Unlike him, you don’t even look down to see how his palm engulfs yours. You just know it will. He on the other hand lifts both eyebrows at your firm handshake.

“I look forward to working with you, Gojo.”

Two hours in, it occurs to you that it might be the case that everyone on set is under some kind of horny spell.

Him nearly walking through the backdrop five minutes in and laughing it off with a cocky comment and a devilish grin sets the entire set on edge from the get-go.

Apparently there’s something about an overwhelmingly tall, ripped, attractive grown man pouting like an iPad kid when his tiny but scary female assistant comes in between breaks to confiscate his phone. There’s a brutish charm about him that makes people act like Victorian gentlemen glimpsing an ankle for the first time in their lives.

The wardrobe assistants are in a heated discussion about how many hands it would take to wholly grasp his bulging biceps.

You, however, remain the skeptic, observing from the fringes. Though if you took any part in the conversation, you’d point out how fucking thick his neck is. Does he lift weights with that thing? What does he need all that for?

When the makeup artist approaches him for touch-ups, he widens the distance between his feet until his face reaches a comfortable height for her to work away. The behind-the-scenes team gobbles it up like ravenous piranhas, and you expect to see this doing numbers on the magazine’s YouTube channel. 

Done with feeling out of the loop and not satisfied with what you catch from the set gossip, you take a bathroom break and allow curiosity to get the best of you. You lock the stall door, sit on the lid, and google him.

His name auto-completes after just three letters. You stare at the Toj on the search bar before digging in.

Techbro, self-made, controversial, messy family background. He was the mastermind behind the acclaimed video game, Diablo, which exploded in popularity during the early 2000s. For years, he's faced criticism in several countries for glorifying violence, gang activity and accusations of satanism. You have to chuckle at that. Nonetheless, Diablo hit it off big and he went on to found a videogame and software company under the same name. He's been steadily encroaching on giants like Tencent after repeatedly refusing buyout offers.

Buzzfeed has a trove of ridiculous articles filled with GIFs of him looking scary and hot at the same time, of him looking like the bodyguard of everyone’s dreams, of him taking no shit from the press. Of him looking like a character out of his videogame. You get the idea.

But something else in the personal life section draws your attention.

He’s a Zenin. And not a distant one. He’s Naobito Zenin’s very own nephew. 

According to a twitter thread, he severed ties with his fucked up dynasty of a family when he was younger and paved his own way under his late wife’s last name. The reasons for the fallout are unknown to the public, but theories are abundant in the replies. You bookmark that for later.

You can't help but wonder if your brother knows him.

With all this newfound context, you’re almost disappointed that he showed no offense to your frankly rude introduction. After all, you’re a Gojo, the impulse to antagonize a Zenin runs through your veins. And if it’s not an inherited impulse, Satoru personally taught you how to handle them. One of your favorite early teen memories of your brother is watching him reduce Naoya Zenin to tears.

The handshake felt layered, like a declaration of war tucked behind a steely smile. There’s a glint in his eyes when he catches you looking that contradicts the unbothered, enigmatic persona people are simping for religiously online. It’s there and it’s gone, but you’re fast enough. It tells you that he’s playing nice as a temporary measure. If you have to guess, he’s planning to make his team bring up your misstep up to the magazine higher-ups.

You're torn between concern for Utahime and a deep-seated desire to see him try.

The day unfolds smoothly with minimal intervention on your part. You stay behind the monitor and let the crew do their job. Your role mainly involves offering insights when requested by the wardrobe team and flagging promising shots with Choso.

Seeing him go through different stages of boredom and despite his not-so-wide variety of facial expressions, you note the camera doesn’t hate him. It's a unanimous consensus that, in another life, he could have pursued a career in modeling, or perhaps even acting. When someone inquires about your opinion on the matter, you become the focal point of a few discreet side-eyed glances. Your response is a non-committal hum. 

Your attention is currently fixated on the last sequence of preview shots displayed on the screen, there’s a very specific detail that you just can’t let pass.

“Can we take a quick break? I wanna try something.”

Choso, taken aback by your sudden initiative, responds, “Yeah, of course, take your time.”

Toji’s face drops from the draw of his eyebrows as you approach him.

“Hi,” he says with that off-putting lift of the corners of his mouth that is supposed to be a smile. He’s probably thinking that your stalling is only prolonging what he wants to be over with.

“Hi,” you catch his inquisitive glance at the objects in your hand. “Is it okay with you if I wipe off your scar?”

His eyes snap down at yours as he thinks it over, squinting for a bit. You’re certain he’s about to tell you to fuck off when he nods briskly, opening his palms as if beckoning you closer.

“Go ahead.”

It's a polite, seemingly harmless green light, yet it feels like you're a bird about to peck at grains of rice beneath a box suspended by a stick.

“Can you—”

He reads your hesitation and does the same thing you’ve seen several times today. He opens the distance between his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. You, for some reason, wait until he looks up at the ceiling like people on the makeup chair usually do out of instict, but he stares at you instead.

Taking a Q-tip soaked in micellar water, you start working away the thin but high coverage layer of foundation, careful not to overdo the edges. A few swipes in and the natural rosy hue of scarred tissue appears, a few shades darker than the color of his lips. It’s a slender, vertical ridge that cuts across his lips, about an inch long. A feature too distinct to waste.

You pull back and he takes the brief chance to run his tongue across the scar, pulling a face at the taste he finds.

Unfazed, you wipe away any excess micellar water and—well, his saliva, you assume—with the dry side of the cotton swab. Once you’re done with that you pat away with a disposable puff dipped in translucent power, just to get rid of any unnecessary shine.

“All good? You satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Cause you don’t look satisfied.”

You’re happy with the outcome of your tweaking, yes. The overall shooting? Well, you’re not in love with it, but you don’t have to be. This whole thing has Utahime’s and the magazine’s aesthetic written all over it, harsh contrasts, blunt shadow. 

“This is Utahime’s concept, I’m going with the brief,” You answer, taking a step back to get an overall look and consider any further touch-ups, stopping him when he starts to go up again. “No. Stay right there.”

“What concept would you go for?” he asks, complying pointedly.

“Like I said, I’m going with the brief I was given.”

“But if you were the original director?”

You wouldn't even be assigned to the task. You left the magazine shortly after you finished your internship and never looked back, even though you liked it here and were being given a much nicer offer than you were expecting. The reason for it being that you found out that your brother had been wining and dining members of the home editorial, showing interest in negotiating for the magazine.

It was a no-brainer for you to part ways and find another way. These days, you work with brands and entertainment agencies that allow for more creative freedom, usually sought out for your particular aesthetic. 

“I wouldn’t be so heavy on making the tech oligarch look human.” 

You reply more out of impulse than calculation, the same way you touch a cat’s tail knowing there will be consequences.

“You suggesting I don’t look human?” He flashes a cold grin at you, kind of like a warning. it’s gone as soon as you blink at him.

The novelty has worn off. Most of the crew are busy doing their own thing, discussing lunch and stretching to alleviate the fatigue of a long day. A few lingering glances remain trained on you— Miwa, Choso, his soldier of an assistant. Toji doesn’t wait for your answer.

“So, what do I look like, then?”

Like a shark, you think. Don’t ever grin at me again, creep.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”You tug lightly at the neckline of his shirt, just a pinch of the fabric, barely touching him at all. "Maybe that should be included in the profile."

He hums. “I do get bored easily.”

You conclude the brief interaction and walk away, acknowledging Choso with a nod, all the while ignoring the way Toji’s amused eyes linger on you.

Like you’re just postponing the inevitable. Whatever that might be.

He finds you later that day, after you’ve wrapped up.

He enters the room with the unspoken confidence of someone who believes he owns not just the studio, but the entire building. Like he's just acquired the magazine and now feels entitled to disrupt your peace with a shitty opening sentence.

“Your work.” 

You look up from your phone and find him in the mirror in front of you. The hair and makeup team packed their stuff a while ago, all the stations are clean and deserted, and only the lights remain on.

 “It’s… interesting. The butterflies, are they alive?”

You look up from your phone and find him in the mirror in front of you. The hair and makeup team packed their stuff a while ago, all the stations are clean and empty, and only the lights remain on.

“Sorry?” You’re unable to hide your annoyance at the unexpected interruption.

“I googled you. Your work. It’s eye-catching, quite… I guess eccentric’s a good way to describe it. Very edgy.”

You’ve heard your fair share of similar comments in the past, but he pouts and frowns with the last two words and irritation pulls at you. You let your hands drop to your lap.

He leans nonchalantly against the door frame, arms crossed, undeterred by your silence and your less-than-friendly attitude.

“I was wondering, are the butterflies real or is it CGI?”

You can’t for the life of you decide if he’s being serious, or decipher his intentions. “Neither. They’re props.”

“They look very realistic.”

“They do,” you agree. “That’s the intention.”

“And the flowers?”

“Those are real. For the most part.”

“I see. So how would you have me?”

“Excuse me?” 

He visibly fights back a smile, and you wonder if this one would’ve reached his eyes, but seeing how you’re going back and forth like you can’t let the other get the last word, you doubt it. You doubt that he’s capable of such a human thing. Smiling warmly. Honestly.

“You said not so heavy on the looking human earlier, so what concept would you go for if we worked together?”

Because he won't leave you alone to discuss dinner plans with Satoru and Suguru, you stand up from your seat and turn around to rest against the floating station. Facing him like this feels a lot safer than speaking to him through the mirror while giving him your back.

He’s dressed in his own clothes, a basic light gray t-shirt several tighter than the soft material the stylist put on him and a pair of dark jeans. His phone is, as usual, attached to his hand, constantly lighting up with notifications.

“I don’t know. It usually takes me a week to get a feel of the concept.”

“I saw the tank pictures,” he replies a bit too quickly as if he didn't care for your answer. You’re certain that you don’t like this man. You don’t like how bluntly he describes your work, or that you immediately know what he’s talking about.

Knowing how things went on that particular set and from the way he looked absolutely done in the most basic environment without having to do much work, that would be a disaster.

“I wouldn’t put you in a tank,” You snort dismissively, and he tilts his head curiously.

“So?”

A string of visual prompts runs through your mind. You’d submerge half of his face in black tinted water, or have his head resting on a white surface, make blood spill from his eyes. Perhaps you'd drown him in smoke or apply early 2000s mechanical prosthetics to his face and neck. You’d make his skin flush like rubies as if it were burning to the touch. In every single one of them, his scar is left untouched.

“Nothing you’d be comfortable with.” 

“You see, I think we could meet in the middle.” he reasons, very eloquently, like he knows just what to say to negotiate with you. You imagine that this is the same voice he uses with his board members to bend them his way. “Can’t say I’d be down for the body-pilling thing or the full-body suits, but I’m sure we could come up with something that leaves us both satisfied.”

“Are you trying to hire me right now?” You’re genuinely confused. And hungry, and tired, and nursing a lingering hungover.

“No,” he chuckles, like the notion is absurd “but you looked bored on set today, and I think I could live up to your vision, is that the word?”

“Right, uh huh.” you nod, very condescendingly, remembering that you’re no longer filling up for anyone or hold any professional responsibility. This is just some man wasting your time. “So what is this? You got a praising kink or something?” 

He’s unbothered by your dig. “Not that I know of. Can I be honest?” 

You lift your shoulder in a half-hearted gesture. It's not as though he cares about seeking permission anyway. 

He lets his eyes drop to the floor and looks back up at you with a bashful little grin. 

“I’ve just always wanted to fuck a married woman.”

You’re not as surprised as you are relieved that he’s cut to the chase. He’s not the first man to detest you and want you at the same time. Men often blur the lines between disdain and sex. It’s only fun when they don’t get too comfortable or want to only deliver and fold when it’s their turn to take. 

The situation settles on you. The room seems smaller now, and the distant sounds of people outside have all but faded away. He's blocking your only exit, put you in this tight spot intentionally.

There’s a possibility that he’s some exception to the norm, that he can take as much as you suspect he can give, but you’re not going to find out.

“Too honest?” He's devoid of any shame or attempts to sound apologetic. Instead, he's assessing you closely, monitoring you for any reaction.

You know men like him. He has to be used to people eagerly dropping to their knees with just a tilt of his chin. Most of the people you worked with today would do so without hesitation. But Toji Fushiguro, with his insincere smile and unflinching demeanor, harbors far more selfish and hostile motives than bending you over the same chair you were sitting in and making you watch in the spotless mirrors.

 “Should’ve kept my intentions to myself?”

A corner of your lips lifts, and he zeroes in on it.

“Didn’t scare ya, did I? You’re a big girl, you're not gonna run.”

He’s daring you now. Fully predatory, like he’ll do something at the slightest indication. Shark. You picture him stalking his way into this secluded space that only the crew knows about after finishing recording videos for the magazine’s social media accounts, his shadow looming across the narrow corridor. 

Fear and power. That’s his deal. He either wants to witness a furious flush down your neck, your throat bob in trepidation and your hand look for your phone–

“And do what?” You cross your arms, refusing to cower. “MeToo you? Expose Japan’s mysterious self-made billionaire hellboy? Reddit would riot.”

–Or he wants you to bite back.

“I mean, considering the way you were eyefucking me I think I could probably pull the reverse MeToo card on you.” 

Your chin drops, your eyebrows go up, and your head leans back at the accusation. Were you? Eyefucking him? Maybe.

But so was the whole room. 

And nothing’s stopping you from bullshitting. “Someone’s optimistic.”

“Is that it?” he smiles, tantalizing. “Do you always just take on the job of the make-up kids out of the goodness of your heart?”

You're not going to indulge him with an answer to that. It's not uncommon for you to take on various roles and responsibilities during your projects. There was a time at the beginning of your career when you engaged in every aspect of your work, from styling and set design to prop work, editing, and even makeup.

“Right. You go ahead. Tell Instagram that I sexually assaulted you with a cotton swab.”

“It’d be just another Monday for Gojo’s PR mercenaries, right?” he pushes you further, casually dropping the G-word as a last resort.

“Everyone likes to look at pretty things, don’t be cocky, old man.” He starts blinking real fast like he’s never been called old to his own face.  “Earlier, you asked me what you look like.”

The scrunch of his nose indicates that he wants to say something before the subject changes, but ends up only squinting at you. 

“I did ask you that.”

“You look like a problem,” you let your words hang in the air for a moment. “And not the kind I have fun dealing with, no offense.”

Finally, he grins again, tongue coming out to just graze the edge of his canines. Something inside your belly moves as you follow the movement.

“And I’m not married yet, so– you might want to take your intentions somewhere else.”

He nods thoughtfully, then he buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans and lifts his shoulders, taking in a deep breath. The motion reveals a thin line of hard skin under his shirt and just the edge of his underwear. 

Water under the bridge.

“Well, no harm in putting it on the table, right?”

Your phone buzzes. Your car is waiting for you outside. You move like he’s not standing by the doorway and blocking your only way out. 

“Have a pleasant day, Fushiguro. It was nice to meet you.”

It’s Friday when you see him again at your friend’s birthday party.

He’s lurking his way through the party, nursing a drink with his eyes attached to the screen on his hand until the birthday boy himself hunts him down. Haibara, producer and pitchfork sweetheart whose debut album cover art you worked on earlier in the year.

It’s a funny sight, it would be almost endearing if it weren't for the fact that it's him. The sunshine main character dragging the hunched, brooding giant along with him. Toji looks like he’s trying his best to keep up, half-amused, half-annoyed, nodding as Haibara rambles away. You wonder how the two even fit inside the same room, Haibara being so charming and Toji, a walking threat.

Then you remember Haibara mentioning that he's been working on the soundtrack for a video game.

Your friends’ conversation mingles with the music and flows around you. Someone’s getting married to his ex-husband’s father. Yuki’s about to open her third concept store somewhere in Europe. You can’t be bothered to focus too much on catching up, but you do meet Shoko’s eyes across the room when Mei Mei says something particularly questionable.

You see a hint of longing in her eyes, a shared sense of missing Iori, just as you do. On a brighter note, her father's health is finally starting to improve.

A hand wraps around yours, and another settles on your shoulder. The cold press of a ring on your skin brings you back to the present. You look at your fiancé and get the dreaded feeling that you’re an impostor pretending to know what to do with a man so devastatingly beautiful. 

Hiroki leans over your shoulder. “Car’s here.”

His hand feels hot and clammy on yours as he leads you out of your friend's sight, turning back occasionally to make sure he hasn't lost you in the crowd. He won't stop until you're both outside, standing by the side of the street.

“Call me when you land?”

Of course, he will. Nothing has changed. He’s starting a new project in some small town in the middle of nowhere in Europe in 24 hours. You won’t ask him to stay. Six months will pass, and nothing will change, you’ve both done this before. 

But you stall. He always calls a car with this in mind. You kiss by the sidewalk, he squeezes you in his arms until your bones fight back. You’ve done this before. It’ll happen again, considering how his acting career is taking off overseas. You’ll do it time and time again until–

“You taste like pennies,” he tells you, and you can't help but laugh softly into his mouth. Your finger traces the barely there curve of his thick, straight eyebrows.

“Make sure to take an aspirin.” 

He nods, always sweet and obedient when you’re nagging. You tuck a strand of hair away from his eyes so that people don't fall too hard for him on his flight. His hair has grown longer in recent months, part of his preparation for a role.

Back inside, Yuki makes room for you by moving her legs off the couch. She asks if everything is okay, and you pull her legs onto your lap, rolling your eyes. She knows you too well.

“Don’t gaslight me. Something was off.”

“Do I look like something’s off?”

“No, but you’re a fucking oyster. Hiroki’s not that good with his face for an actor. He kept looking at you like he was afraid you’d disappear.”

Choso chimes in, draping his arm around her shoulders. "They're getting married. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think he might like her, and he might enjoy looking at her."

Looking out of the window, your gaze naturally drifts toward a figure seated by Haibara’s covered dock. Earlier, it was adorned with twinkling lights, but now, even in the dark, you can discern a solitary silhouette in the middle of the glittery ocean.

Mei Mei taps her cigarette, fixing her eyes on you from the other side of the couch. 

“Does it have something to do with Toji Fushiguro asking about you, by any chance?”

Your stomach drops. Your group of friends reacts quickly.

“Huh?” 

“What does Toji want with you?” Yuki asks, face snapping at you. “Is he trying to get to Gojo through you?”

“We worked on a shooting with him a few days ago.” Choso calmly explains before she can come up with any conspiracy. “She was covering for Iori. Made quite the impression on him, I think.”

“Oh, Satoru’s gonna fucking hate that.” Shoko laughs, unexpectedly loud in her inebriated state. “Please, please fuck him. He’ll be so pissed if you fuck him. It’ll be hilarious.”

“No respect or regard for Hiroki.” Choso shakes his head, and it looks like he’s laughing from the way his shoulders move up and down. “Poor bastard.”

“Yeah, well.” Shoko shrugs, not bothering to hide her dislike for your fiancé. 

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “He’s just pissy because I was not— exactly professional. I think the asshole might try to get me blacklisted.”

Choso makes a noise of disagreement. Yuki frowns in concern. “Shit. What did you do?”

“She showed up hungover, asked who the fuck he was when he was standing behind her, and traumatized Miwa.”

“Not Miwa. She's an angel.”

“Whatever you did, he’s asking around…” Mei Mei adds with a sick barely there smile, finger on her chin. You don’t like how well she knows you. She makes you feel like she knows exactly what went down that day.

You wonder how well she knows Toji, and how much he told her. 

What exactly he asked.

“...and let’s just say that he’s not the curious type, so make your assumptions, everyone.”

You tap Yuki’s thigh without thinking twice and push yourself off the couch. A string of accusations about scaring you off follow, and Mei Mei teases you about not meaning to do that.

“Fuck off, I just need some fresh air.”

“But you’re gonna consider it, right? For me? Come on, it’ll cheer Iori up.”

“I’m not gonna fuck some random man just because you think it’d be funny, Shoko.”

And you’re pretty sure Iori would be the first to tell you to stay away from him. Shoko sags against the back of the couch like a puppy you stepped on.

You step out of the house, past the pool, the limestone steps, and stop only to take off your sandals. The sand is cold and yielding, no traces of the warmth of the slow Atami day left, soft grains clinging to the soles of your bare feet.

Haibara’s dock stretches out into the ocean, endless until you reach the far end and leave behind the sound of laughter and music. It’s him, like you suspected, sitting on the edge, his legs hanging over the sea. 

With one elbow resting on his thigh and a phone in hand, his other palm supports his face. You sweep a strand of hair over your shoulder and inhale the salty breeze, opting to linger a while before revealing your presence.

“I think I got it.”

He looks up at you, momentarily caught off guard, allowing you to take a triumphant sip from your glass, the alcohol causing a painful sting inside your cheek. He's still engrossed in the medieval game he was playing from days prior, his commitment minimal, his thumb hovering over the screen.

You leave some distance between you as you take a seat, your glass resting between you. It’s a high drop from here, the water looks as if it could freeze you instantly.

“Hand-held CCTV cameras aimed at your face. Like guns. Point blank.” you finally elaborate, once you’ve found a comfortable position, demonstrating with your hand.

“Sounds fuckin’ uncomfortable.” he remarks, eyeing your demonstrative fingers. You wonder if he’s drunk and how much alcohol it would take to get him there. 

You drop your hand, and he follows the movement. “I warned you.”

“So I don’t get flowers? No butterflies?”

“Nah.” 

He lifts his gaze from where it had settled on your thighs, and you absentmindedly tap your ring finger against the bare skin out of habit.

“Thought I was pretty.”

You snort in response. Tonight, the moon shines particularly bright, illuminating the dock lounge. It's a serene spot to catch a break from the lively party.

“I changed my mind.”

He sucks on his teeth. “You can’t take a man’s virginity for being called pretty and then take it back.”

“If it helps, you’re still objectively nice to look at.” You say behind your glass. No point in lying, he’s hot. And self-aware. And you’re not blind or ashamed to admit it. 

“Objectively nice to look at.” he repeats, like he’s getting a feel of it, or memorizing it for future use. “What about the fiance, then? ‘s he pretty? Enough for flowers and butterflies and shit?”

“I met him working for an editorial. He did get flowers.” 

“Ah, I see. So, does he do that often?”

You let another sip wash down your throat, this time tilting your head to the side to avoid the sting.

He returns to his game, and you trace the profile of his nose while the screen highlights the hollows beneath his eyes and the fine lines around his mouth. If you were a bit more intoxicated, you might be tempted to snatch his phone and toss it into the water, anything to halt the conversation about Hiroki. It would force him to look at you instead.

“Leave you alone at parties.” he adds. 

You've momentarily forgotten the initial question. “He’s my fiance, not my babysitter. I can take care of myself.”

“Never suggested otherwise, did I?” he sniffs, and a part of you, the sensible one, contemplates returning to your friends and disregarding whatever pulled you out here. Leave him be to enjoy his game and stay away from the one brewing between the two of you.

“What about your entourage? Are they comfortable leaving you out of their sight?”

“I can fend for myself too,” he says, eyes set on his phone. He seems to like to add your name at the end of his sentences.

“Can I play for a bit?” you ask, extending your hand. He hesitates, briefly glancing at you as if to confirm you're not taking the piss, down at his phone, and back at you.

His phone is big enough to feel like a console, and there's a very on-brand crack on the left corner that he warns can cut you. It gets him a side eye that he reacts to with a careless shrug. 

You haven’t played any games in years or downloaded any since the younger members of your family grew out of the age where they came as useful, but you recognize this one from ads you’ve seen on Instagram.

It doesn’t take any experience to figure out that you’re supposed to manage some kind of orthogonal kingdom. There’s a castle and a medieval-style village surrounded by a tall wall, with full crops around. You tap around, collect coins here and there, zoom in and zoom out under his close watch. Every time you tap a building without a full green bar, a few options show up, you bite your lip to hold back a smile and hit the red X on the right corner of what looks like a church.

“Hey–”

He’s snatching his phone out of your hands before you can pretend to be sorry.

“Fuck you’d do that for?”

You don’t know why, but his annoyance hits you as the most entertaining thing you’ve seen or heard tonight. A grown-ass man next to you sulking because you deleted his little 2D church on his phone. Shoko might think you fucking him would be hilarious, but this, to you, is real comedy. 

“What? You religious or something?” You doubt he is, given his controversies and taunting the satanic-panic crowd. He also happens to look like god left the room the moment he was born.

Toji shakes his head, not as an answer but to reiterate that you’ve pissed him off. A laugh full of mirth bubbles out of you. He’s tapping aggressively, filling up the blank spot with a smaller version of the building, and sucks on his teeth again, disappointed at how pathetic it looks around all his leveled-up properties.

“Did something happen to you as a child, maybe?” You inquire.

“What?” he gruffly responds, offering you an irritated glance. He’s kind of cute like this, frustration looks like a foreign emotion for a man like him.

“Are you diagnosed?”

He does a double-take again.

“Is that offensive to you?” you tease, struggling to contain your amusement at the situation. "Sorry, I know your generation isn't that comfortable discussing mental health."

“See, I might be socially stunted, yeah–” he gruffs after staying quiet for a bit, finally putting his phone inside his back pocket. You lift your eyebrows, eager to see where he’s going with this. “I can agree with that. But you rich kids–”

“Oh, us rich kids?” you gasp softly, not expecting that turn, you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing out loud as he’s not done with his sudden rant. You’re fucking tickled.

He shakes a thick finger in your direction. “–You’re fucking uncomfortable to be around, you know? It makes you think that maybe bullying exists for a reason. They don’t rough the bunch of you nearly enough at those expensive private schools, do they?”

“Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you are a rich kid inside a grown man’s body.” He rolls his green eyes at you until all you see is white, thick eyelashes fluttering.

“Oh, I see. No, I get it. You’re self-made and I’m nepo trash. A spoiled little bitch with a bad attitude who’s never been taught a lesson, is that it?”

Animosity radiates out of him. He flattens his palms on the wood surface behind him and clenches his jaw, shaking his head like he’s not even going to try to reason with you.

“You wanted to hatefuck her but then she ruined your game and made you feel uncomfortable, and now the chase isn’t fun anymore.” 

“Nah, you’ve got it wrong there, sweetheart. I don’t put people in such one-dimensional boxes.”

“No?” 

He scratches the side of his nose before elaborating.

“Spoiled little bitch, yeah. But you’re a hard worker. And stubborn, too. You’ve been paving your own way, working real hard to traumatize daddy back, haven’t you? You run on pure spite, eh?”

“Fuck off.” you scoff, throwing back what’s left of your drink.

“And– get this,” eyes now glazed with a cruel glint, he leans in closer like he's about to share a secret, and peers down at your chest when you do the same “He’s the crowned king of our country’s conservative media, he’s also old as fuck, so that can only mean that he’s a raging homophobe on top of, you know? Violently misogynistic. You and your brother got your therapist's pockets nice and full, paid off a few nice vacations to hawaii, probably bought a big beach house for her.” 

He stops and cocks his head, like realization just landed on him. 

“But you, you’re weaponizing the fuck out of him. Christmas at the Gojos's a fucking nightmare for your poor little fiance, but you have your fun, don’t you?”

Just a few minutes ago, you’d been savoring the signs of irritation in his body language, mind running wild with all the ways you could make him tick, but now you want to punch him in the throat. Just bury your fist right there in that v-shaped Adam's apple of his.

“You’re cold-hearted for that, sweets. You know you are.” he accuses half-heartedly, the wicked glint in his eyes hinting that he's trying to strike a chord. “Tell me, does he prepare his social justice speeches beforehand or does he just sit there next to you, quiet and pretty and eats his dessert?”

“Don’t talk about my family, asshole.” You lick the inside of your cheek, but you know the strung tone of your voice will only egg him on.

“Why not? You’re on the news every day. Everyone talks about you.”

Usually, when it comes to your family, you’ve got thick fucking skin. You’re aware of the stain and privilege of your last name. The advantages you’ve had and people claim you don’t deserve. The fact that you’re the living consequence of your father cheating on Satoru’s mother.

Most of the things they say about your father and his monster of a corporation you can agree with, but you keep your head high and your thoughts to yourself and stick to sharing looks with Suguru when it gets particularly nasty between your brother and your father in family gatherings. 

“He’s been causing quite the stir, hasn’t he? Your brother. If Alzheimer’s doesn’t do it, he might be the one to finally send your old man to the grave.”

But you don’t fuck around when it comes to Satoru. 

You’re propping yourself up on your wrist and lifting your leg when his hand comes to your bare knee, stopping you from attempting to stand up and walk away. His grip is surprisingly gentle, though the tips of his fingers touching the back of your knees do send the message. It’s like he can’t let you forget how much smaller you are in comparison to him.

“Whoa, easy. I’m just playing with you.”

You blink down at him, face set, hoping to deliver the message that you might push him into the water if he fucks around any further.

“I have plenty of family baggage for you to hit me back with, have at it.” he adds, almost kindly.

You remember Naoya Zenin with tears running down his face. If you had to bet on it, you’d say that making Toji Fushiguro cry would single-handedly give you bragging rights over Satoru for the rest of your lives.

He hums when you sit again. “Go on, get as creative as you want.”

“I doubt you even have a family.” you bite “God knows what Zenin lab near Fukushima you escaped from."

“Weak but creative, I’ll give a tick for that. So, what I’m getting here is that you get along with him, then.”

You frown, confused.

“You couldn’t pretend to give a shit when I mentioned the fiancé, but you looked like you would’ve blown my brains if you had a gun on you the second I brought your brother up.”

He sounds suspiciously genuine. You don’t feel like elaborating.

“I know him,” he mentions offhandedly, leaning back. “Flashy cottonhead prick, doesn’t like me very much.” 

“Can’t imagine why, enchanting as you are.”

“Probably gonna like me a lot less after this.” he reasons, more to himself. 

He turns to you before you can dwell on what he means by that. “So, you’re two peas in a pod then? You and him?”

“I don’t see him that often.” you think out loud, your dinner plans fell through after a sudden change in his schedule. “He’s on some getaway in Osaka, performing some corporate sacrificial ritual.”

“And you’re too cool to involve yourself in such bland, boring affairs.”

You’ve had a bad feeling since your father announced he’ll be stepping down from his position. With the board and investors spiraling and Satoru suspiciously playing your father’s game, you see havoc brewing in the future; your father closing his fist around his leashes, children crying, kittens separated from their mothers and blood spilled on the floor.

And you want none of it. 

“I’m an outsider. You don’t need me to explain how it goes, do you?”

He nods at you like he’d tip his drink at you if he had one, deep in thought.

You prop yourself up on your wrist and bring a leg up to rest your feet on the rough wood, inadvertently knocking over your empty glass. You both watch as it tumbles, rolling in a circular path until it meets the edge and drops out of sight, vanishing beneath in the inky water, as if it never existed.

“Water looks nice.” he says.

You hum uncommittedly.

“Wanna take a dip?”

His eyes are already on you when you look up at him. There’s not nearly enough alcohol in you to ignore the distance between you, or the lecherous dip under the friendly, harmless veneer. You wonder what triggered this change so abruptly.

You gaze down at your attire, a deconstructed, stretchy fabric ensemble unsuitable for water activities.

"No, but you can go ahead. I'll watch from here and look the other way if you start to drown."

He dips his head slightly, his frown implying you're a buzzkill. "Come on. You've never gone skinny-dipping?"

“That’s a very lame attempt to get me naked.”

He points at the party with a tilt of his head 

“No one’s gonna see you. I will, but I’ll behave, 'cause you’ve had a rough night” The vague fucker carries on again before you can ask what he means by that. “I didn’t think you’d be this shy.”

“And I don’t think Haibara knows he’s friends with an old man that likes to creep on girls a decade younger.” you retort.

He's momentarily silent, and you believe he's finally relented.

Yet, he hooks a finger beneath a thin strap of your top that slipped down your shoulder at some point, deftly guiding it back into place. His nail barely grazes your skin, causing a shiver to course through you. He grins wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours, darkness flickering from beneath his lowered lashes, tantalizing.

“Like you’re some innocent little lamb who doesn’t know better? I don’t buy it.” he mocks you, voice dangerously dropping. “Your cover’s blown, sweets. I see you. You’re a lot darker than you look.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. You’re a little fucked up, ain’t ya? Got some real violent impulses tucked in there.”

That’s rich, coming from him. 

"So perhaps you should tread lightly around me."

“I don’t mind.” he says succinctly like you didn’t just witness the black completely eclipsing the green of his eyes. “Tell you what, you’re more than welcome not to hold back around me. Consider me your safe space. Let it all out, you sure look like you need it.”

“How kind of you.” you croon, he blinks, slow and warm for you, lashes coming to rest on the sinking blue-tinted skin of his under eyes. 

“You wanna go back and do drugs, Toji?”

The sea roars, a particularly violent wave crashing under you. He looks over his shoulder like he’s thinking of it.

“With your friends?” His tone is derogatory at the last word, unaffected, but you have a theory that if you were to put your hand on his chest, the rhythm of his heart would tell a different tale.

Cute. He’s cute. You want to chew him up.

He hit the spot about you not being the lamb, but another thing entirely. The thought makes you want to laugh in his face, but instead, you smile and pop a dimple, swinging your feet and imagining yourself dropping a handful of rice in front of him.

“No. Just you and me.”

[signfromeywa]

AUNGIA TA EYWA (A SIGNS FROM EYWA)

Chapter 04: The Infirmaty

Description:

Anastasia Novak is a behavioural scientist tasked with socializing a captive Na'vi on behalf of the RDA. The longer she works with the Na'vi and the closer she gets to him, the more she has to rethink everything she thought she knew and redefine her morals and values. Can she just carry on like this, or will she follow her heart?

Content: Rating +18, Avatar fanfiction, human x Na'vi ship, Na'vi captured

Characters: Human OCs: Anastasia Novak, Steven Turner, Patra// Na'vi OCs: Ean'tu,

Word Count: 3914

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❗️English is not my native language! I apologize very much if it reads a bit bumpy here and there.

I'm a German author and this is the first time I've tried to translate a story I'm working on into English and upload it. I still hope you enjoy it.❗

A sudden loud bang that shook the walls of the base made Mr. Turner jump up from his chair. He had been scared out of his wits and not long after the loud bang, the base's alarm sounded. Were they under attack? What had happened, just a moment ago Turner had been dozing away in front of the documents with his coffee cup in his hand, now chaos had broken out. The doors to the surveillance room opened.

"Turner! Quick!" Gonzales literally shouted and Turner took off running.

Once in the room, his eyes immediately fell on the window, which offered a view of the enclosure. The red flames colored the otherwise unlit surveillance room red.

"We have to get Sky out of there, now! Mobilize Unit 12 and give Sky a dose! This has to happen quickly!" as he instructed Gonzales and another colleague. The colleague ran out of the room to initiate everything else to get Sky out of the completely destroyed enclosure, Gonzales was busy in the meantime adjusting the dose and administering it to Sky via the collar.

It wasn't long before an entire unit stormed the enclosure. Fully equipped, they fought their way through the flames and searched for the Na'vi, who was lying unconscious somewhere. Only a few minutes later, the next unit arrived to fight the fire. Two AMP suits were mobilized to help get the flames under control and clear the debris out of the way.

Turner stood tensely at the top of the window and watched the units at work. Half of the surveillance technology had failed and he very much hoped that nothing worse had happened to Sky. If something happened to the Na'vi on his shift, it could cost him his head. After a nerve-wracking eternity, he was given the all-clear. The recovery unit had found the Na'vi and taken him out of the enclosure. But now everything had to happen very quickly. Sky couldn't wake up until he was back in a safe room where he couldn't hurt anyone and, above all, couldn't run away.

Gonzales came over to him. " Come on, let's take care of this, it's going to be a long shift."

Turner nodded to his colleague. He was right, besides, he would have to write a detailed report later and let Novak know that she would have to show up for work early, because they would most likely need that woman if Sky got out of control.

**

Ana woke up to the sudden ringing of her cell phone. Tired, she reached for the device that she had recently started keeping on her bedside table for just such occasions and peered at the number with blurred, tired vision. When she recognized the facility where she worked, she hastily answered her cell phone.

"Dr. Novak, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously, still a little hoarse."Forgive me for interrupting, Turner here, it's about Sky."

"Has something happened to him?" Ana interrupted her colleague, upset and worried.

"He's fine so far, just a few bruises, but we had to transfer him to the infirmary. Could you make it here at short notice?" Turner reassured her.

Ana sat on the edge of the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, I'll take the next team bus, where do I have to go?"

"Just our normal facility, I'll pick you up at the gate. See you in a minute."

"Yes, ok, I'll be right there. Goodbye." Ana ended the call. What had happened that Sky was in sickbay? It certainly hadn't been easy to move him there. Sky was wild and dangerous, he wouldn't have let that happen without resistance.

Tired, she got up and hurried to put on a skirt and blouse as quickly as she could before setting off. After all, this was still her workplace and she didn't want to be lacking in professionalism. She grabbed her work bag and hurried out of the room and down to the bus stop while she hurriedly checked her wristwatch again. If she remembered correctly, a bus was about to arrive and she couldn't miss it under any circumstances if she wanted to get to the base as quickly as possible.

The bus stopped and she ran the last few meters to catch it. Out of breath, she sat down on a seat in the first row and the bus took off. The journey seemed like an eternity, all she could think about the whole time was Sky and how he was doing. Questions were running through her head, making her tired mind dizzy. So she was delighted when the bus finally reached its destination and she was able to rush out of the doors.

Past the security staff, in the courtyard, her colleague Turner was already waiting. "It's a good thing you made it here so quickly. Sky is completely out of control," Turner said by way of greeting and set off with her.

"What happened, why did he hurt himself?" Ana wanted to know.

Turner's steps were fast and Ana had difficulty keeping up. "A plane crashed and tore one side of the enclosure. It started a fire and the flying debris must have injured Sky," he said, without turning to look at Ana. "That was a big bang, I tell you, I was totally startled."

"Oh shit- sorry." Ana cursed in disbelief, it was lucky that nothing else had happened to Sky. No wonder Sky was beside himself now, he was in a strange environment with strange people and the last thing he remembered for sure was that huge bang. Absolutely disturbing.

Turner went on to fill her in on the state of the enclosure, what measures had been taken and what would be necessary. While he was telling them this, they walked along the large main corridors of the base to an area that Ana had not yet entered. Until now, she had always taken the direct route to her department and had not explored the rest of the base. However, they walked through far too quickly, so Ana had no chance to look around, not to mention to remember where they were. She would never find her way back without help.

The large mechanical doors of a ward appeared in front of them, with a large white glowing sign. Infirmary. But this wasn't where ordinary soldiers went when they were injured, this was a high-security wing. It was already written on the front which security clearance was required here. One that Ana certainly didn't have, but Turner seemed to know what he was doing.

Together they entered the station through the large door and just ahead was an airlock with a receptionist. "Yes, please?" She didn't even look up from her work.

"Mr. Turner, we're here for Sky." He pulled out his employee card and Ana did the same.

Now the woman looked up, inspected the cards and compared the data with her computer. "Yes, that's right. You have to go down the corridor, turn left and go all the way through. He's in the isolation station, room 4," she explained briefly and then opened the airlock to the station for both of them.

With the help of the description, it didn't took them long to find the right room and when the doors opened, they could hear something falling to the floor and shattering, followed by the loud sound of many smaller metal objects falling to the floor.

Turner and Ana hurried in. The room was divided into two areas and separated by a pane of glass. On the far left was a small airlock and behind it was Sky. He was hissing angrily and frightened, pressed against the wall and fending off the medical staff who tried to approach him. In the process, he had knocked over a small side table where medical utensils had been laid out ready for treatment.

The two medics, fully clothed in protective suits and wearing masks, didn't dare approach Sky, their gazes just as frightened as Sky's.

"What's going on here?" Ana wanted to know immediately.

The two medics became aware of her: "He suddenly jumped up and started thrashing around wildly!"

Ana didn't want to hear any more, it was clear that they were scaring Sky and she couldn't blame him. He didn't know what they were planning to do to him, he was completely disoriented and perhaps even in pain.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a mask and entered the airlock. If she didn't intervene, someone else would get hurt.

She entered the separate treatment room and stood in front of Sky: "Please leave the treatment room, Sky is not in a condition where you can treat him."

"Mam, we have to treat his wounds," said one of the medics, raising his hands placatingly.

"You can do your work later, but if you don't leave now, Sky will only hurt you."

"All right," they picked up the medical instruments and bandages that were scattered on the floor and left the treatment room, "watch out, there's broken glass here."

Ana turned to Sky, who was now huddled on the floor in the corner. He had raised his hands anxiously in front of his face because the light in the room was a glaring white and seemed to be blinding him, which must have disoriented him even more. Tears were running down his face and his body was bruised here and there, with small wounds and cuts. His whole body was trembling. Ana felt so sorry for him, but she didn't know what to do. It wasn't as if they had built up any trust in each other, he was probably just as scared of her as he was of the doctors. How could she help him?

Then Sky suddenly lowered his hands and his wrinkled forehead smoothed as he seemed to recognize her.

"...Ana." he then said and Ana's eyes widened in surprise.Had she just heard correctly? Had Sky said her name? It was impossible, even if he was intelligent, that he had remembered the name so quickly since the last time, which had been a few days ago.

"Ana." she heard clearly this time. No doubt he had called for her. She cautiously approached Sky and carefully raised her hands.

"I'm here, don't worry." Ana said gently and crouched down in front of him when she reached him. She sat there hesitantly. Sky's expression had calmed a little when he recognized Ana, but she still wasn't sure how much he trusted her. Was it OK for her to touch him? How close could she get to him?

To her surprise, Sky pulled her out of her thoughts by saying her name again. He seemed to want to communicate with her, but it was the only word he knew. Ana summoned up all her courage and reached out for the Na'vi, who did not flinch. So she reached for his hand.

"Come Sky, come with me." She made a gesture for him to follow her, hoping he would understand beyond the language barrier.

Indeed, as she rose from her crouch, Sky stood up too, but without letting go of her hand. He was so huge, his hand completely covered Ana's, she felt fragile next to him, even though Sky only held her hand very carefully. It was as if he was aware of his size and, above all, his strength.

She gently led Sky to the treatment table where he must have been lying a moment ago. He sat down on it and looked at Ana.

"I'll get the medics to help you now, okay?" Ana knew that he didn't understand a word. Nevertheless, she looked deep into his eyes and said this very slowly in a particularly gentle tone of voice. She was trying to make him understand that she wasn't up to anything bad and that everything was fine.

Nothing was good at all. The circumstances were completely bizarre and actually quite inhuman. In front of her sat something that seemed not unlike the consciousness of humans, and yet he was caged like an animal.

As she turned to go to the airlock so she could use the microphone to ask the medics in, Sky held her by the hand. His eyes looked at her pleadingly; there was no way he wanted to be left alone.

Ana lovingly placed her other hand on his. "It's okay, I won't leave you alone."

She thought about it. Sky needed someone to look at the wounds and treat them, not that anything would get infected. But he would never let the medics near him without Ana.She pointed to his sore knee. "You have wounds." she said very slowly, then pointed out to the medical staff standing in front of the glass pane, still holding the bandages in their hands. "They'll help you take care of the wounds."

Sky looked at her warily and then at the medics. He seemed to be thinking about what Ana might have meant and she hoped so much that he would understand. She didn't know how else to tell him.

"Tam 'ì'awn hu oe." Sky then also said very slowly. Ana could hardly believe that she had just witnessed his language. It was the first time she had heard this foreign language, so she had no idea what he might have said, but from the way he had squeezed her hand, he clearly wanted her to stay with him. She smiled at him, trying to be calm, even though her heart was beating excitedly. She had gotten herself into something, the extent of which she could not yet fully comprehend. The more she saw that Sky was not so emotionally dissimilar to her, the more she had to question everything she thought she knew.

Ana looked to her right, to the window behind which the medics stood and watched in amazement as Ana dealt with Sky, waiting to do their job. With a gesture, she indicated to the two men that they should come to her and Sky to treat him. Only hesitantly did they both set off, still full of suspicion as to whether the Na'vi would be able to control himself this time or whether he would fight them off again.

Turner also seemed to be watching tensely. He seemed to be worried about Novak in particular, just like on the first day. As the medics stepped through the airlock, Sky's hand holding Anas tensed. His tail whipped nervously back and forth and his ears flattened. Ana could see him clenching his teeth and tightening his jaws, but he remained still. He was clearly still scared, but he trusted Ana to look after him, which she was determined to do.

"Come to us, but slowly, don't make any loud noises that might frighten him," Ana instructed.

The men approached them slowly, careful not to make any rash movements. They placed the utensils for cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging on the small side table with castors that they had set up again.

"Can we approach him without concern?" one of them asked uncertainly.

"I can't promise anything, but I'm in good spirits if you move calmly and slowly," Ana answered them, but looked at Sky to let him feel safe. The medics carefully began to clean his wounds and Ana knew that most of them stung a lot. Sky held on bravely. His body was tense and his face showed fear and uncertainty, but he didn't break eye contact with Ana. She would have loved to say something to him now, but she didn't want to risk Sky answering her in his own language. After all, Ana didn't know who exactly knew that Na'vi were apparently an intelligent species and what would happen if the wrong people found out.

After plasters had been applied to the few abrasions and two deeper cuts had a thin bandage, the two medics left the treatment room again. You could immediately see that Sky's tension had eased a little. He was much more relaxed when he was alone with Ana, but unfortunately she also had to leave now, however much she hated to leave him behind. He needed her now more than ever, of course, she was aware of that, but she had to talk about his further whereabouts. After all, he couldn't stay here. He needed a place where he could rest, with somewhere to sleep. Here in the room there was only emergency care equipment with a treatment table. If she took a closer look, it was even the right size for Sky. That was extremely unusual. None of this changed the fact that the circumstances had to improve for him.

"I have to go for a moment, but I'll be back." She looked Sky in the eye. "I need to talk to my colleague." She pointed at Turner.

Sky looked at her, worry written all over his face. He didn't want her to leave. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he pointed at Ana and said her name.

She nodded with a smile. "Yes, I'm Ana." But then he pointed to himself. "Ean'tu"

Ana's breath hitched for a second as she processed what the Na'vi had just said. Was it what she suspected? Had he just told her his name? His real one? Ana had to make sure. She pointed at him now too. "Ean'tu?" she said in an uncertain, questioning tone. The Na'vi, who apparently went by the name Ean'tu, nodded and Ana thought she saw a faint smile on his lips.

Ana pointed at herself again: "I am Ana," she said slowly, every single word, then pointed at him. Would he understand?

He looked at her warily and pointed at himself too. "I. Am. Ean'tu," he spoke after Ana, with a strong accent, only with his name instead of hers.

"Yeah, right." Ana smiled happily at him. He had understood quickly, she hadn't expected him to really try to communicate with her and if he did, it wouldn't be here. It was all very unexpected and she wished they had more time and, above all, more privacy. But there was a lack of both and she really had to go and talk to Turner, who certainly had enough questions.

"I'll be right back, I promise," she said softly and released her hand from his. Ean'tu stood up immediately, wanting to grab her hand again, but then hesitated when Ana flinched. That he would reach for her so suddenly had admittedly startled her and Ean'tu seemed to have noticed. His gaze went to the window behind which Turner was standing, watching them both tensely through the glass.

Then Ean'tu sat down again. He apparently didn't want Turner to think he was going to attack Ana again, because now he seemed very passive and was ready to let Ana go, even if she could read in his gaze that he was reluctant to do so. But she didn't have any more time to waste. Ana's colleague was waiting for her outside and she didn't want to keep him waiting any longer. She hurriedly left the isolated area through the airlock and approached Turner.

"What happens to Sky now?" she wanted to know directly. Now that she knew what Ean'tu's real name was, it felt wrong to talk about him as Sky. The name he had been given by a human. But for now, it was safer for them both and wouldn't lead to unnecessary questions.

"The enclosure is still partially destroyed and will probably need a few more days until at least everything is escape-proof again, until then Sky can't go back," Turner explained the situation. Among other things, he was responsible for managing the enclosure and therefore always knew exactly what was going on.

Ana crossed her arms thoughtfully. "We can't leave Sky here, he needs to rest, it's all been a lot of excitement for him. Isn't there a temporary enclosure for him?"

"We have a sanatorium on this base, with various enclosures, but I can't tell straight away which ones are currently occupied and which are not. I'll make a few phone calls in a minute. If I have anything, we can move him." Turner looked over at Ean'tu thoughtfully. "The only thing we have to think about is transportation. We can't just transport him through the station like that, there's a high risk of escape or worse, he could attack someone. I'll be glad if there's something between him and me to keep us apart."

Ana could have been upset. The way Turner talked, Ean'tu was a monster, but Ana was no longer convinced of that at all. He was considerate and careful around her. To be honest, she had the feeling that he was very sensitive and therefore often very scared. If only she could make his circumstances better. She was determined to do this in the future and, above all, she really wanted to find out more about the secret contact. Her contact certainly knew a lot more about the Na'vi."Take care of initiating the transfer, I'll take care of Sky," Ana looked at her colleague resolutely. "I'll make sure he goes safely with me to the other station. No need to sedate him again."

"You want to... walk through the ward with him? Just like that? I can't let you do that. It's far too dangerous to trust on your word alone that Sky won't get out of control again and hurt someone." Ana could understand Turner's mistrust, but they had to start trusting him somewhere. At least Ana could, but Turner didn't know what she knew either. She was sure she could form a good bond with Ean'tu.

"We're taking security measures. We clear the corridors from here to the sanatorium, then we don't endanger anyone. We'll seal off the exits so Sky can't escape and he'll still have the collar on in case of emergency. So if he gets out of control, we can use it to tame him," suggested Ana, who was now all the more determined to move Ean'tu without sedating him. He should walk on his own. If he could see that Ana trusted him to do this and that he wouldn't hurt her, it would be good for their bond.

"...Novak, you have some ideas." Turner sighed.

"But they're good, aren't they?" Ana grinned.

"Unfortunately, it's not a bad plan... but I'll have to talk to the boss to get permission to evacuate and go into lockdown. After all, we'll be shutting down a small part of the facility."

 "Good, then I think you should start making calls right away." Ana laughed a little, although she felt sorry for her colleague. These were certainly difficult calls that she wouldn't have wanted to make herself. But then again, she was the brave one who was always with Ean'tu. Although she was no longer sure whether the Na'vi was the greater evil in this case.

Ana turned away to go through the airlock, "Let me know when we can start the transfer, I'll take care of Sky until then."

"All right, I'll see you later." Turner pulled out his cell phone and began to enter a number as he left the room. Ana just looked after him for a moment, then went through the airlock to Ean'tu, who had apparently been watching them the whole time and was already waiting for her.

Tag List: @twisteduniverse5 @yukilaaw @mooniequeen (If you want to get added, comment it under the post)

[joelwindows7]

YESS!!! I DID IT!!! kinda..

Horray!!! I made the 1st ever cardiophilia props for CVR, iyeeeey!!!

hhmmm not the best, but that's the least I can do today.

If you put it close to your ear, you listen it beating wow!!!

Keyword = heartbeat

Go ahead search it in ChilloutVR!

Perhaps I should enable attachment later, so you can attach it to your chest (with VR controller, drag to your chest). And then your friend earsteth your chest aa yess!

by JOELwindows7

Perkedel Technologies

CC4.0-BY-SA

[sayitan]

❝  addi!  ❞  neteyam  hissed  as  the  girl  disappeared  within  a  narrow  opening.  he  crouched  low,  forced  to  maneuver  his  body  at  an  awkward  and  uncomfortable  angle  in  order  to  crawl  after  her.  it  was  a  tight  fit,  the  edges  of  where  the  sheets  of  steel  had  fallen  and  the  overgrown  vegetation  around  it  scraping  harshly  at  his  skin.

          neteyam  shook  off  his  discomfort  once  he  was  inside,  standing  to  his  full  height  and  watching  her  with  a  stiffened  upper  lip.  both  she  and  lo'ak  seemed  eager  to  discount  his  caution  for  cowardice  leaving  him  with  little  option  but  to  follow  them  into  their  foolish  treasure  hunts.  he  inspected  the  AMP  suit  she  had  found  for  only  a  moment  before  he  turned  his  attention  back  to  the  contents  of  the  hanger.

          much  of  it  appeared  to  be  abandoned  as  opposed  to  damaged,  neglected  and  left  to  errode  from  time.  the  darkness  however  concealed  much,  only  a  thin  strip  of  natural  light  falling  from  a  large  open  hole  in  the  ceiling.  he  paced  around  addi's  suit  as  she  scavenged  for  whatever  it  was  she  was  searching  for,  ignoring  her  criticism  and  watching  their  surroundings.           there  were  the  familiar  sounds  of  nature,  the  wind  current  as  it  whistled  through  open  crevices,  the  trickle  of  water  from  a  loosened  pipe  or  a  natural  stream,  but  the  shuffle  against  hardened  steel  was  not  natural.  neteyam  hissed  sharply  as  she  called  out  louder  than  necessary.

          ❝  just  hurry  up  so  we  can  get  out  of  here,  ❞  neteyam  whispered  furiously,  he  tipped  his  chin  back,  sniffing  the  air.  there  was  the  unmistakable  sting  of  steel  and  metal,  the  cold  scent  that  accompanied  human  technology  but  there  was  something  else  as  well  .  .  .  blood.  neteyam  snatched  his  bow  from  over  his  shoulder  and  had  an  arrow  notched  within  a  single  fluid  motion,  ❝  there's  something  in  here,  ❞    //    @tahnisreu  continued  from  here

[spacepiratenemo]

Corresponding #artwork for my #fanfiction “The Lunarian Guide to the Blue World” Chapter 16:

The Arc starts at Chapter 15 and reaches its peak in Chapt.16 - If you like to read it, I do recommend to start with 15 because there will be some funny and wholesome moments, creating an overall completion of a beautiful Arc concerning the Lunarian Menace.

Here is a very short excerpt from the Chapt.:

💀👽🌙🔥❤️ M= Marco Ao = Aokiji A = Ace WB = Whitebeard

M: You realise that she built those weapons so she could protect herself from people like you in the first place? So, you’re hunting her down because she knows too much? Is it that? Don’t you see how all of her knowledge could help this world? Free energy, medical machines that can save lives, technological means of travelling quickly across the globe!

AO: Indeed… And also, means of mass-destruction, bombs capable of demolishing entire cities, guns that can shoot people into the nearest orbit… All Lunarians are monsters, she is no exception.

A: They are NO menace! They are NO monsters! People LIKE YOU are!!!

AO: If that is what you think, you truly are the son of the devil… *insert ice-cold glares here*

*A shadow massive and tall boons behind the Admiral, the ground begins to shake, the air begins to thicken, a quake unmatched begins to unfold*

WB: You dare attack my children, Kuzan… !

*This thundering, growling voice of the Capt’n was the last thing the Admiral heard before that fight came to a result. The Leadership of the World failed again… and they lost one of their strongest fighters that fateful day… a shame to their pride, leading to the downfall of Kuzan*

Nemo is my oldest OC. Her first version was created roughly 2002/2003 when the Enel Cover Story was released and the Space Pirates on the Moon were introduced. I started working through the story, developed and changed much over time, took hiatuses and breaks too due to health related reasons.

For more works, wips and story content, you can also visit my instagram: https://www.instagram.com/r0tt3n_rabbit_/

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

#20yrsago Alan Moore’s alternate history of the DC universe https://groups.google.com/g/alt.comics.alan-moore/c/_4ZX7TiexP4/m/tcgegKqWYWMJ

#15yrsago Daily Show writer explains writers’ strike — if digital content isn’t worth anything, how come Viacom is suing YouTube for $1 billion? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PzRHlpEmr0w

#10yrsago Cufflinks that open hand-cuffs https://www.sparrowslockpicks.com/products/sparrows-uncuff-link

#5yrsago Congress’s spending proves the GOP believes life begins at conception and ends at birth https://theintercept.com/2017/11/15/new-mothers-program-miechv-republicans-congress/

#5yrsago Motherboard’s excellent, accessible guide to internet security https://www.vice.com/en/article/d3devm/motherboard-guide-to-not-getting-hacked-online-safety-guide

#5yrsago Senate Democrat is about to take the brakes off predatory payday lenders https://www.huffpost.com/entry/payday-lenders-democrats_n_5a0a211ee4b0bc648a0d5325/amp

#5yrsago Teardown of a consumer voice/location cellular spying device that fits in the tip of a USB cable https://ha.cking.ch/s8_data_line_locator/

#5yrsago Social media’s “engagement”-based algorithms are intrinsically hospitable to conspiracies and fake news https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/12/technology/social-media-disinformation.html

#5yrsago Consumer groups’ labs advise parents not to buy connected toys, claim risk of strangers listening and talking to kids over the internet https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/nov/14/retailers-urged-to-withdraw-toys-that-allow-hackers-to-talk-to-children

#5yrsago 65 out of the top 100 most-cited scientific papers are behind a paywall, with a weighted average cost of $32.33/each https://web.archive.org/web/20171113213050/https://www.authorea.com/users/8850/articles/125400-65-out-of-the-100-most-cited-papers-are-paywalled

#5yrsago P2P downloaders spend more than non-downloaders on music, but pollster can’t do math https://web.archive.org/web/20121117233424/https://www.michaelgeist.ca/content/view/6699/125/

[cjweejay]

Phoenix in the Clouds

Pairing Recom!Quaritch X Male!Oc

Summary: When a reborn Quaritch returns to Pandora, he meets a scientist who changes his world. Can love bloom on a beautiful world hostile to humans?  

Content Warning: alcoholism, Mild violence

Master list

A reposting of chapter one part one, this time Edited to feel more cohesive 

Chapter one: The landing (part 1)

After the battle with Jake Sully and the Omaticaya people, many humans established Bridgehead City as their new home, from where they could observe ships decelerating from the sky. Many Research divisions and Avatars were destroyed as a precaution against any future Rebellion, and amidst this chaos, Dr. Wihongi was granted a modest research facility near the Waters of Pandora. Subject to strict regulations, Wihongi accepted this limitation, as he was eager to explore the plentiful plant life of the moon.

Until the RDA had other plans for him, He was instructed to go to Bridgehead City, Where he was told that he was going to be the coordinator of equipment and health for the newly funded Recoms. The phoenix project they called it, He thought it was a bit pretentious but that's what the RDA was all about.

He was trained in how to care for Na'vi bodies, and the Fabrication lab along with being given a modest team and just had to wait for the Recoms to arrive.

And They did, Though not for him, for the General, She wanted to see them before they had gotten Settled. To remind them they had a job. He watched them pass, Their large bodies foreboding and not to mention their training in the military. It was a deadly Combo, No wonder Jake Sully had such an advantage.

The Doctor noticed the Colonel, The tallest out of the Recoms. He was pushed back by a small crowd of Soldiers. His eyes meeting the Leader of the Recoms just for a fleeting moment.

Hours passed and the Doctor Ran around the City looking for the Leader Of the Recoms, He kept grumbling and complaining to himself.  He caught a glimpse of a large blue cat man and started to run after him, being stopped every so often by one of the orange or yellow Spider-like robots constructing buildings.

He finally reached the large Blue man panting and huffing,"I've been looking everywhere for you" He said through his teeth trying not to sound angry though it still came out.

The small human looked up at the Na’vi, his face red full of anger and exhaustion.

"Even though I'm hardly certified, My name is Doctor Wihongi. I will be the one to provide you with your equipment and evaluate your health when necessary.."

Quaritch looked down at the scientist taking in the others' appearance. His eyebrow raised, "Wait, you mean to tell me that Command saw fit to assign my unit with our own personal Q?" He Smirked at that. "Now that's a hell of a thing. What can you make us?"

The Doctor shrugged,"anything you need, just give me a few hours notice and it'll be yours"he said as he calmed down a bit. Quaritch looked a mite amused at the claim.

"I don't suppose that means you could whip us up some recom-scaled AMP suits, does it? Or maybe some powered armor." His eyes unfocused a tad as he imagined the sight of himself crushing Sully's skull with his own servo-enhanced hands.

The doctor noticed the other daydreaming and he cleared his throat. "Ah well we don't have the budget for that"he said a bit nervously,"I meant like...uhm" he cleared his throat again,"weapons, and other hand held equipment as well as clothing"he said as he looked up at the man.

The Colonel nodded. "Fair enough." He thought about his previous experiences with the Na'vi, and compared it with recent reports. Prior to Sully's defection, the Na'vi had typically used primitive technology. Bows and knives. That meant that their main advantage was numbers, as their weapons were only dangerous to unarmored humans and vehicle cockpits. Now, they were using human weapons, making this a more typical guerrilla insurgency, with the added benefit of native air-power.

Unfortunately for them, this was exactly the kind of conflict he'd cut his teeth fighting when he was Force Recon back on Earth. And he knew exactly what he needed.

"How about some bullet-proof vests and helmets, then? Uniforms with cut resistant threads."

The doctor nodded, taking a mental note of what the Colonel requested, “bullet proof vests are already available in the Barracks, as for uniforms we will get them out to you as soon as possible.”

"Copy that." He gave the doctor an evaluating look. "You know, doc, you're a lot different from the other eggheads EDA brought in. Most of them cared more about their pet science projects than RDA or humanity as a whole. What's your deal?"

Dr. Wihongi huffed,"I could care less about any of you but after the rebellion, I was put on a strict, 'don't get captivated by pandora's charm' regimen" he said as crossed his arms,"so that means being a butler for you and your Motley crew"he grumbled.

Quaritch gave a quick blink. "Ah." He assumed it made sense in some ways. Sully's treason was supported, according to accounts, by the old doctor's science team. Keeping them on a short leash was arguably the smartest move RDA could do. "Well, Alfred is the best part of Batman's crew," he ventured, hoping to break the ice.

"I beg to differ," The doctor shrugged, "but if all you need is the uniforms, I should get going now; my office is right next to your barracks, so just knock."

"Will do. I'll need to take a close look at our armory to see what we have available. No point asking for a custom frag grenade when we have some available, after all." He thought for a moment. "Then again, a frag that's like Bangalore might be useful..."

Dr. Wihongi nodded, "Maybe," he remarked as he began to walk away.

The Colonel watched the doc leave before continuing his wandering around the city, making a mental map of the place as he compared it to Hell's Gate. Even the name was different. Hell's Gate had been a mining base, given the name for how deadly Pandora was. Bridgehead was just that, a proper foothold for human civilization on this deathly world. When it was finished, he expected it to be a shining monument to humanity.

Quaritch returned to the barracks, opting to consult with his unit before embarking on their first mission into the jungle. He also decided to take a short look around the armory to see what they had available in terms of equipment. He nodded in satisfaction of the larger rifles and carbines supplied to them, albeit he was concerned about the absence of proper marksman guns.

He also went over the grenade options. He was happy to find that the numerous rifles and carbines could be customized, including underslung shotgun and grenade launcher possibilities. The grenades, on the other hand, were mostly incendiary and fragmentation. Both were beneficial, though the first was less so than one might expect given the wetness of the Pandoran jungle. However, fire was a powerful psychological weapon.

As he walked around he drew up a mental list of additional goodies he wanted his unit's new resident Q to manufacture as he went to his team's barracks.

Quaritch sat in his bunk, listening to his fellow recoms yammer. It was a familiar feeling, marines joking around, wound up with energy and ready for action. If his men were human instead of tall blue aliens, he could imagine himself in... well, any of the conflicts he'd been in, actually. There'd been so many. So many battles and bullshit and lost friends. And while, technically, he never really knew any of them, the losses still stung.

He knew Paz was dead. Hopefully, Junior was on his way back to Earth. He gave a chuckle. Kid would be well taken care of. Not a lot of guys got to enjoy the fruits of their life insurance money directly. His would ensure his kid had a bright future.

[jcmarchi]

How Client Requests Can Undermine Web Performance & Accessibility – Speckyboy

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/how-client-requests-can-undermine-web-performance-accessibility-speckyboy/

How Client Requests Can Undermine Web Performance & Accessibility – Speckyboy

We know the importance of website performance and accessibility. Or at least we should. There’s no shortage of content dedicated to these subjects.

That creates awareness. Hopefully, awareness leads to learning. And learning leads to implementing best practices. There, we’ve made the web a better place!

Not so fast. There’s one factor the tutorials didn’t warn us about – clients. Yes, a client can lay waste to our plans for a fast and accessible site.

The question is: why? Why would a website owner get in the way of progress? Why would they insist on features that diminish the user experience?

There are a few possibilities. Let’s look at some common conflicts and ways to resolve them.

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A Desire to Impress Users

First, let’s state the obvious. Our clients’ hearts are in the right place. They want a successful outcome as much as we do.

Clients also want to impress users. Sometimes, this puts them at odds with best practices.

The use of massive images is one example. Full-screen photos can be attractive. However, they also bog down page loads. An HD or (gasp!) 4k image is like strapping an anvil to a slow internet connection.

Sliders can produce even worse results. Sure, let’s add a few hundred kilobytes of JavaScript. What could go wrong?

People think that these features will promote conversions. The page will be so attractive that users can’t help but click that call to action. Websites used Flash intros for the same purpose back in the day.

They have good intentions. They may be looking in the wrong place, though.

The Belief That Competitors & Peers Are Right

Competition is a great motivator. So is the status of one’s peers. Both make us want to keep pace with those around us.

It’s a common theme when building a website. Web designers can fall for it as much as clients. You see something shiny and want to replicate it.

Perhaps the company across town uses a video background on every page. It may look cool. But is it the right thing to do?

Clients don’t want to be outclassed by someone in the same industry. They may not consider the consequences of adding such a feature.

A client may also fear that they’ll look bad to potential customers. As in:

“Company A has this feature on their website. They’re clearly superior to Company B.”

The reality may be different. The web’s novelty wore off many years ago. Looks are important. But so is usability. And what good is a video background for someone using assistive technology or a cheap mobile device?

That Their Preferences Are All That Matters

As the saying goes, “The heart wants what it wants.” We can say the same thing about our clients.

A client can become an immovable object when it comes to design. They’ll insist on an inaccessible color scheme. Or a font that is difficult to read.

Some won’t sign off on a design unless it includes all their demands. They’re the customer, after all. And they’re always right.

This thinking also impacts existing websites. A client might want to change a hero section. The reason? They’re sick of looking at the same thing every day.

It may make sense to them. However, they’re once again ignoring users. You know, the people they’re trying to serve.

Change for the sake of change could be a negative. It could confuse visitors and lower conversion rates.

Not everyone can see the bigger picture.

How to Help Your Clients See the Light

Yes, all of the above can be frustrating. There’s no need to lose all hope, though. A good conversation or two can make a difference.

Here are a few pointers for discussing performance and accessibility concerns.

Give an Honest Assessment of Your Concerns

The first step is to provide an honest assessment. Point out the potential problems you foresee.

From there, it’s about explaining each item of concern. Lay out the benefits and drawbacks. Give examples of how a feature impacts users.

For example, a slider could make site navigation more difficult for a visually impaired person. Your client may not have considered this possibility.

Clients will most often do the right thing in these situations. Being informed could be all it takes.

Offer Better Alternatives

It’s one thing to argue against a client’s idea. But what should they be doing instead?

Our job isn’t to merely dismiss a feature. We should also offer an alternative or two. Things that provide a similar effect – but without the hit to performance and accessibility.

We could suggest a hero area instead of a slider. It will grab a user’s attention while reducing load times. Perhaps it features a background pattern or a photograph that’s optimized. It stays on brand but doesn’t hinder usability.

It’s one way to guide a client toward better solutions. The idea is to improve the product and strengthen communication.

Be Patient

Clients aren’t always receptive to our ideas. We can warn them about the impact of a feature. But they sometimes need to see the results for themselves.

They might notice an issue when the feature launches. Or they may get complaints from other users. The shortcomings will become apparent either way. Or not.

We’ll need to be patient and bide our time. We can hold out hope that they’ll see things our way, eventually.

Educate & Encourage Good Choices

There will always be some give and take when working with clients. That’s part of the design and build processes. Web designers must balance client preferences with user needs.

Accessibility should be non-negotiable. It’s worth fighting tooth and nail for. If a client insists on something that goes against this pillar – the consequences are on them.

Performance offers more wiggle room. Odds are the result won’t be perfect. However, it’s our job to make the best of any situation.

Education is a valuable tool for web designers, though. We can help clients understand why these subjects are worth their investment. That can lead them to make better choices.

The benefits of performance and accessibility aren’t apparent to everyone. Thankfully, we have the power to change that.

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[blaberid]

the funhouse 2022 bonus material thoughts and opinions

i will never forgive shout factory for releasing the new funhouse bonus content only on a region A blu-ray disc and not on dvd, but after spending SO much time and money i was finally able to watch them... and i gotta say... it was all worth the struggles.

(i can’t get actual screencaps cuz i can’t play the disc on my computers and i can’t find the content uploaded anywhere online and apparently you gotta have a phd in engineering in order to get the most out of blu-ray technology but yknow. honestly it’s a miracle i got the disc to play on my crusty old tv at all. like i pictured having to buy an entirely new tv in order to get to play these bonus features. like i know i can’t play the first disc included which is exclusive to ultra hd 4k televisions which i certainly do not have. would i have done it had that been the only solution? um........)

i gained so much new insight from 3 of the actors, absolutely lovely ppl, and craig reardon who finalized the monster mask after rick baker did the initial design!

the monster's design is loosely based on a cleft headed man, apparently baker worried about making a monster out of a real life condition so he really amped up the fantastical monster features! so much care was put into the design!!

they could not afford to have the eyes move so the monster's differing facial expressions are mostly just lighting tricks it seems, doba could hardly see in it and it was very hard to move the hands, he did such an amazing job under those conditions holy frick!!!

they showed some closeup photographs of the mask and hands that made the details so much easier to see, something that had flown past me completely is the fact that one of the monster's hands has two fingers fused together!!!  but looking back at the movie scenes i can see it!!

scene from the movie:

you can clearly see the fused fingers!! FUN FACTOID this is an obscure detail even this licensed enamel pin design missed:

i would have liked some insight on the frankenstein monster costume, like how would the monster wear those hands over his own deformed claws? i read somewhere the frankenstein costume was made specifically for the movie but don’t quote me on it.

in the little character analysis they did, they really put emphasis on the monster just being an emotionally driven creature from an abusive household who never actually meant to kill anybody! he killed madam zena accidentally in a fit of rage, and his dad had to negotiate really hard with him to get him to agree to kill the teens, and he only did end up killing liz after she stabbed him.

they use the name gunther a few times so i guess that makes it as canon as it can get. like it was the name used in the novelization that i refuse to acknowledge lmao but fine. it's that or they have no names at all. :o)

overall!!!!! good interviews!!! i feel so fulfilled!!!

[reportwire]

I want to retire next year, but I have $25,000 in credit card debt and a major monthly mortgage payment — I also live with my three kids and ex

I want to retire next year, but I have $25,000 in credit card debt and a major monthly mortgage payment — I also live with my three kids and ex

I’ll be 57 next month and am divorced with three kids living with me. One is 28, she’s working, another is 21 and a senior in college (with a full scholarship) and the youngest is 15 (a sophomore in high school with a full scholarship).  I plan to retire at the end of next year with $25,000 in credit card debt and 15 more years to pay my mortgage. The credit cards have 0% interest. I have a good…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

Today (May 20) at 3:15PM, I’ll be at the GAITHERSBURG Book Festival with my novel Red Team Blues; then on Monday (May 22), I’m keynoting Public Knowledge’s Emerging Tech conference in DC.

On Tuesday (May 23), I’ll be in TORONTO for a book launch that’s part of WEPFest, a benefit for the West End Phoenix, onstage with Dave Bidini (The Rheostatics), Ron Diebert (Citizen Lab) and the whistleblower Dr Nancy Olivieri.

#20yrsago William Gibson on the future of media https://web.archive.org/web/20030503081410/www.williamgibsonbooks.com/archive/2003_05_01_archive.asp

#15yrsago We need a privacy bill of rights https://www.wired.com/2008/05/securitymatters-0515/

#15yrsago Steamy tell-all memoir by a Disneyland “Jack Sparrow” https://web.archive.org/web/20080525200648/https://www.lamag.com/featuredarticle.aspx/?id=7016

#15yrsago Oregon to hold hearings on whether its laws are copyrighted https://public.resource.org/oregon/

#15yrsago China’s surveillance state https://web.archive.org/web/20080517165418/https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/20797485/chinas_allseeing_eye/print

#10yrsago Unknown mathematician makes historical breakthrough in prime theory https://www.wired.com/2013/05/twin-primes/

#10yrsago What UK education czar Michael Gove doesn’t understand about creativity https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/may/17/to-encourage-creativity-mr-gove-understand

#10yrsago Accused identity thief nailed by food-porn Instagram photo https://www.techdirt.com/2013/05/20/criminal-nabbed-his-own-food-porn/

#10yrsago Utah wants to tax power consumed by the NSA’s massive, illegal data-processing facility https://archive.sltrib.com/article.php?id=56304956&itype=CMSID

#10yrsago Book review: information security for lawyers https://books.slashdot.org/story/13/05/20/1313205/book-review-locked-down-information-security-for-lawyers

#10yrsago When America issued dogtags to kids to help identify their nuke-blasted corpses https://gizmodo.com/that-time-american-school-kids-were-given-dog-tags-beca-508802138

#10yrsago Whatever happened to crack babies? https://web.archive.org/web/20130904231440/https://www.retroreport.org/crack-babies-a-tale-from-the-drug-wars/

#10yrsago Internet of Things and surveillance https://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2013/05/the_eyes_and_ea.html

#10yrsago Profile of math-inspired 3D printing sculptor Bathsheba Grossman https://www.shapeways.com/blog/archives/2075-designer-spotlight-bathsheba-grossman-2.html

#5yrsago Explaining marine invertebrate reproductive strategies to the lobster-obsessed Jordan Peterson https://twitter.com/baileys/status/997646354414522368

#5yrsago Supreme Court rules that employers can make signing away your right to sue them in a class a condition of employment https://www.cnn.com/2018/05/21/politics/supreme-court-nlra-arbitration-gorsuch/index.html

#5yrsago New York high school will use CCTV and facial recognition to enforce discipline https://web.archive.org/web/20180521033340/http://uschnews.com/lockport-schools-turn-to-state-of-the-art-technology-to-beef-up-security-the-buffalo-news/

#5yrsago High school students who will not smile in the hallways are sent to mandatory counselling, while bullying is rampant https://www.ldnews.com/story/news/local/2018/05/15/n-lebanon-students-told-smile-while-bullying-gets-ignored/606180002/

#5yrsago The Vatican dunks on the finance industry and its “amoral culture” https://press.vatican.va/content/salastampa/en/bollettino/pubblico/2018/05/17/180517a.html

#5yrsago Ahead of national elections, India’s authoritarian ruling party loses a key regional battle https://web.archive.org/web/20180520035216/http://www.atimes.com/article/huge-setback-for-modi-as-bjp-fails-floor-test-in-karnataka/

#5yrsago Britain’s hardline prohibitionist drugs minister is married to a weed grower https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/drugs-minister-victoria-atkins-hypocrisy-cannabis-paul-kenward-british-sugar-a8356056.html

#5yrsago App that let parents spy on teens stored thousands of kids’ Apple ID passwords and usernames on an unsecured server https://www.zdnet.com/article/teen-phone-monitoring-app-leaks-thousands-of-users-data/

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[jcmarchi]

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[formidablecompanynews]

$4,200 For A Portable Music Player? — Astell&Kern Offers Latest Audiophile Contender - Notice Today Online https://www.merchant-business.com/4200-for-a-portable-music-player-astellkern-offers-latest-audiophile-contender/?feed_id=193272&_unique_id=66de037acdb44 #GLOBAL - BLOGGER BLOGGER Photo Credit: Astell&KernDigital Products Astell&Kern’s latest audiophile offering comes with a premium price thanks to its 98% copper body. The SP3000T Copper Edition features the same portable audio player that creates a fusion of the best of both worlds for an analog and digital audio experience—now in copper.Astell&Kern’s SP3000T features the integration of a real vacuum tube to create an authentic analog sound, complemented by cutting-edge audio technology such as Teraton Alpha for an immersive auditory experience. This portable audio player features dual Raytheon JAN6418 Mil-Spec vintage vacuum tubes and a triple amp system to allow listeners to select the right tones for their music. The result is an audio player that features separate digital and analog signal processing.The Copper Edition takes that one step further with a body made from 98.8% copper. Copper is known for its excellent sound transmission and resonance properties, enhancing the brightness and richness of musical tones. Astell&Kern has created a specialized multilayer coating that enhances durability to help this limited-edition audiophile accessory maintain its beautiful luster without oxidizing or requiring special maintenance.Due to differences in noise and amplification among original vacuum tubes, Astell&Kern have created a meticulous process to address minute differences in sound quality. Astell&Kern carefully measures and pairs each JAN6418 vacuum tube to minimize deviation between the left and right channels—resulting in a more natural sound reproduction.The SP3000T features an independent modular, flexible PCB design engineered separately from the main PCB. It has a silicone module case designed to absorb primary shocks from the vacuum tube, with silicone tubing perfectly tailored to the vacuum tube to reduce shock transmission along the leads. Finally, it features silicone dampers around the vacuum tube to suspend the tube in the air from both ends—helping to eliminate microphonic noise.Achieving these low noise levels withing the compact confines of the SP3000T body was no easy challenge. The device houses two of AKM’s latest flagship AK4499EX DACs and a separate audio circuit design with the AK4191EQ—which is applied independently to the left and right channels responsible for processing digital signals.With this unique audio circuit configuration, the SP3000T reduces the noise of the input digital signal, while acting as a separate digital delta-sigma modulator. Only analog signals are processed within the DAC AK4499EX, ensuring digital and analog signals are processed separately. http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/pexels-photo-13883855.jpeg Photo Credit: Astell&Kern Digital Products Astell&Kern’s latest audiophile offering comes with a premium price thanks to its 98% copper body. The SP3000T Copper Edition features the same portable audio player that creates a fusion of the best of both worlds for an analog and digital audio experience—now in copper. Astell&Kern’s SP3000T features the integration of … Read More