#So seeing that there was an in-built preservation - it only saved Some things but anything saved is precious!! It made me very happy <3

[sysig]

Reading moodboard #84430940 (Patreon)

[lasabarcassims]

LasAbarcas Base Game Save File 1.0

My Base Game Save File is complete!!! Download it here!

UPDATED VERSION AS OF 3/18:

OLD VERSION:

My goal with this save was to make the base game feel super ALIVE and full of personality - basically what we all wanted the base game to be originally. This save is full of lore: each household has a story (some inspired by iconic Sims lore, others original), each Sim has relationships outside their home, each world has a description and each neighborhood within each world is built with a very specific vibe that draws particular Sims to live there, all community lots (and some residential lots) have descriptions, and even the graves (and ghosts) at the Willow Creek church graveyard tell a story. There are TONS of community lots in this save that all feel different from one another and are designed with different kinds of Sims (personalities, career types, ages, etc.) in mind to give everyone multiple things to do outside the house.

All lots were built using only the base game (disclaimer: occasionally my game adds pack-specific items, like a kind of food, during playtesting, so it might say there is a pack-specific item on a lot but it's not meant to be there!), but many lots were built with other packs in mind. For example, the save has restaurants, a boba shop/thrift story, a cafe/retail space, a community garden, a high school, and so on that are base game only. So, if you only have the base game or limited packs, it should feel like you have more to do than the base game provides and open up your gameplay with a little imagination.

If you do have more packs, the lots should easily convert to their intended lot type to allow more functionality. You should also find things that come in other packs available in the save. For example, many Sims have university degrees, all Sims have cold/hot weather clothes, there are loads of clubs for Sims to be in (each with a description - MORE LORE hah!), and the calendar is filled with holidays/events.

Here's a little tour of the Save:

WILLOW CREEK:

Most families in Willow Creek have lived here for generations. These families strongly value their roots and create such a strong sense of Willow Creek identity that the transplant families have taken on this identity as well, leaving the town full of people who proudly work to preserve and celebrate the town’s vibrant history and traditions. Families in Willow Creek tend to have a more traditional approach to family life/dynamics and care about the family’s image/status within Willow Creek.

OASIS SPRINGS:

Oasis Springs had its heyday several decades ago when its space exploration industry was booming, but when the industry fizzled out, the town lost a lot of business, wealth, and residents. However, those that remain take pride in their retro desert town and clearly see what remains: a beautiful, unique, special place to call home. Families in Oasis Springs tend to be a bit quirkier, care little about what other people think about them, and focus more everyday happiness than career success.

NEWCREST:

Newcrest is a very family-friendly neighborhood filled with fun for all ages. Families here tend to be a bit more laidback – they are willing to go with the flow and enjoy the messiness that comes with growing up. The Newcrest residents are a supportive bunch of people who enjoy each other’s company and have a healthy balance between careers/school, hobbies, and spending time with family and friends.

I will also be releasing a Limited Packs Save with version one containing updates to Copperdale and Strangerville coming soon, as well as a No Limits Save down the line.

I hope you all download and enjoy!! Please let me know what you think and if you notice anything that needs updating.

Thanks!

[queersouthasian]

I find the comments about Charlie's selflessness and Babe's immediate aggressive reaction amusing 'cause they effortlessly portray how masses don't realise victims of abuse/assault can become extremely defensive, to protect themselves they weaponize themselves, and that's a trauma response right there. Other than the fact that we are literally ignoring the fact that way manipulated and hypnotised him against Charlie, but in both the situations where babe thought Charlie was betraying him, is a big deal. Imagine dealing with the pain of taken advantage of by the people who claimed to love you for years and trying to cope with that, when you finally allow yourself to love and trust again, the SAME SHIT happened. No wonder babe got aggressive...and the thing that makes Charlie the best boy he is, he knew that. Charlie knows how to deal with such problems. That's why everytime the misunderstanding happened, he made sure he explains and tells the truth, that even if he lies a 1000 times, those lies are yo shield not to scar...that's why we see Charlie continuously trying to approach angry babe, 'cause he is not scared of him, he can study babe's soul, every fragment of him, so he isn't scared but frustrated 'cause he would do anything to let babe know he would never hurt him. And if he ever did in fact do something to hurt him, it was always to save him. Charlie is a natural caretaker and his selflessness comes from the lack of comfort and love he received as a child, for years ge was ignored and abandoned, forgotten. So, he gives people exactly that. He knows how babe had built a high thick wall around him as a defense, but unlike others (way) who tried to break that wall down, he built a small window, as if looking at babe through that limited space, not absolutely invading his space but not leaving him alone either. He came in babe's life and respected boundaries while saving him, loving him. And babe understood that. Babe who is a sweetheart, who too wants to be loved and to love, builts a door for Charlie so instead of breaking the wall down, he gently enters the space, and stays 'cause babe locked the door and threw the key. What I am trying to say is, they both saved each other. Charlie who has zero self preservation, gains it, slowly but steadily, through babe. He wants to be alive, wants to be healthy for babe, 'cause babe loves him selflessly, unconditionally. Babe has not only physically saved him, but emotionally did too. His threats to Charlie to not put his life in danger are bold but lack heat, 'cause those words carry concern and love. Charlie's selflessness is considered "boring" by some 'cause we often see kind people as boring. We consider kindness, love and anything related to unconditional love boring or cringe 'cause we have been taught to consider the worst of humanity, we have been taught to not look for hope in this world where caring for others are "looking for attention". Those who are confused by the lack of self preservation, when someone finally loves you as you, they save you, they really do and won't you do everything to save them too? This is applicable for both Charlie Babe.

[ghostinthegallery]

Yup, finally time to talk about Trazyn...

I put it off because hey, everyone else deserves some love and attention...but Trazyn deserves more, sorry he is just built different.

It will probably shock no one that Trazyn is my favorite 40k character. He's what got me into Warhammer in the first place. I imagine I'm not the only one who went through the "oh, funny meme steal guy lol" to "guess I'll read Infinite and the Divine" to "can't be invited to parties because I refuse to think about anything that's not Necrons or my new plastic crack addiction" pipeline.

But why is this weird sexy space kleptomaniac so compelling? The answer might surprise you!

(it won't for a while but bear with me there's a twist coming)

Why do we all like Trazyn? First of all, he's easy to grasp. Indiana Jones meets the Collector in 40k. One sentence and you know what he's about. That's invaluable for pitching a character. And then you watch him and he's clever, he's hyper-competent, he's funny. In the grimdark future, this guy makes you laugh! He screws with everyone. And yeah, he's easy to meme, but that's just part of his charm.

He fits into nearly any 40k story too. Space Marines? Aeldar? Chaos? Tau? Trazyn wants an artifact and he's messing with *insert main characters here* to get it. Or maybe *insert main characters here* need something and he's the only one who has it. Doesn't really matter what or why, the second Trazyn shows up he can play off anyone. As an uneasy ally, an opponent in a negotiation, or in a fight. He has an incredible dry wit that makes him super entertaining (especially in a setting where characters can be a bit...serious).

And Trazyn ultimately has pretty sympathetic motives. He wants to preserve, to collect, and tell stories through his museum. Museums are cool! Culture is neat! Sure he's a bit...unethical, but he's far from the worst dude in 40k so he's very easy to root for, even if he's a side character or antagonist.

So yeah, witty, devious, immortal museum curator. Perfect character, right?

Well...here's that twist.

Trazyn is actually (in my opinion) really, really hard to write for as a protagonist of his own story.

See most commercial fiction is structured around a character who wants something, but something else gets in their way. Frodo wants to take the ring to Mordor but all of middle earth plus some evil wizards, orcs, giant spiders, etc. are in the way. The issue with Trazyn (on paper) is that he doesn't truly want anything. Sure there are specific artifacts and people he wants for his collection, but that's surface level. Hunting down random cool space stuff is not a change from his day to day, so focusing a whole story around that might be fun for a while, but it wouldn't stick with you. Because any deep, emotional desires he has are fulfilled. He has power, he has purpose, he has his own planet that shapes itself to his will.

Trazyn is used to being in control. Of Solemnace, of his expeditions, of his negotiations. If plan A goes south he has twelve other options, and a few back up plans, and probably an ork warband attached to his belt if he needs it. Oh, and he's immortal. And can't be hurt. Which again, is hella fun, but how do you have suspense or stakes with all of that? How do you write an interesting story for the guy that has everything?

Enter Orikan.

Orikan is one of the only things that introduces chaos into Trazyn's existence. Orikan can break into Trazyn's house, break his stuff, and get away with it. When Orikan is around, the things Trazyn loves are in danger. Orikan shattered relics from their people's history and Trazyn failed to save them. He tried to catch one piece and it shattered because his hand was metal. The thing that usually makes him untouchable contributed to his loss. That is heartbreaking to read. Sure he can fight elves and dinosaurs and steal the most incredible things, but Trazyn can be made vulnerable in the right circumstances.

The thing he wants throughout Infinite and the Divine is not the McGuffin Mysterios. It's revenge. But because Orikan is his equal and opposite, he can't get it easily. There's an obstacle. Which means we have a story on our hands.

There's another scene that I find really striking from that book: Trazyn and his human assistant on Serenade. This old man who Trazyn kinda...mind controlled into service, but also provided him and his family with the best education, medical care, career opportunities etc. Trazyn didn't have to do that, but he is the type of greedy where if something is "his" he takes care of it. That includes (for better or worse) that human man and his family. Blips on the radar to an immortal being, but those are Trazyn's blips so they get the best a blip can ask for (aside from free will but shhhhhh.)

But that doesn't mean Trazyn can prevent the inevitable. His assistant gets old without him even noticing. The man has reached the end of his life, and that is something Trazyn can't control. And he's emotional about it. Not like devastated (it's just a human after all, basically his hamster just died) but it throws him for a loop.

Oh hey, speaking of how Trazyn takes care of things that he considers his...

Trazyn never really gets close to killing Orikan. He says he wants to. He acts like it. That's the story we set up. Trazyn shoots him in the face. But does he try to permanently kill Orikan? Does he ever act with any true cruelty?

He does once. When Orikan was weak and vulnerable, Trazyn crushed Orikan's skull with his foot, and that's so out of character it's our clearest indication as a reader that something is wrong. That's when we realize the song has Trazyn ensnared because normally he would not do that. He wouldn't treat his greatest enemy and rival that way which is... certainly interesting.

And then of course there's that scene at the end. When Orikan is burned and afraid and unable to defend himself, Trazyn doesn't even try to hurt him. He is gentle, careful, he makes sure Orikan isn't permanently damaged. After everything they've done to each other over 10,000 years (and that's just the events of the book, their rivalry is older), it doesn't even occur to Trazyn to harm Orikan in that moment.

That to me is the real secret that makes Trazyn more than a meme character. That greed that makes him care for things, cultures, places, and people. Those moments where he isn't in control. The combination of the two that means something is at stake. He has a deep love for the universe despite this being such a nihilistic setting. That love drives him to do ridiculous things, but that's the core (I think) of why we love watching him cavort around the galaxy so much.

[curiouselleth]

Unable to See the Starlight (ao3)

Gone. Gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone GONE. It was GONE and there was no saving it - no return from this darkness, such a lack of light it was seemingly to be a physical force in itself, silencing voices, cries echoing in the dark and shadows in every corner and hall. The trees bearing no fruit or flower but only bringing forth cries and cries and such sorrow it bent oneself over and inward inward inward until one became a husk, as the dead inside as the twisted trunks and dried leaves that once poured forth light.

Every attempt, in that all too brief time of the last mingling and waning failed. crushed flowers, smashed fruits, infertile seeds, and nothing. No weak shining, not a glimmer of light, nor hope.

So many had tried in that hour, gathering flowers and fruits in skirts, cloaks, and robes, followers of Nesa and Vána, Irmo and Manwë and Varda, climbing up into the weakening branches, heedless of the danger and desperate to do something - anything - to try to save them, to save the light. Aulë and Vairë, all their followers, all kinds of smiths, sculptors, weavers, artists, masons and glassblowers, all tried in vain to preserve the little we had left. All not trying to help Yavanna, Varda, and Estë sought some way, if not trying to preserve the light, struggling to find some way, any way, to help. Gathering water and leftover food left forgotten in the banquet hall, bringing blankets and tea to the ones in shock, trying to bring some meager comfort to those in the throes of grief, or trying to claw back some semblance of governance amongst the panic.

The weavers working in threads, silks, and satins, or tapestry and dyes. All crumbled or dulled.

Glassblowers and stonecutters and jewelers trying to create works as captivating as the stolen gems of Feanor, grim, as it had never been when some fancied themselves a match for Feanor and tried to create their own radiant stones.

The smiths working in metal, reflective and harsh, first promising but ultimately cold and dark.

Sculptors perhaps the closest to a vessel to preserve them - fine, delicate forms built of all things, wood, clay, glass and crystal.

All failed, all the valar. Those who tried to heal the trees and those who tried to plant the flowers and fruits.

Only one true flower, and one true fruit remained. It was decided that Aulë was to try to make a work, not to preserve the flower and fruit to plant new trees, but vessels to sustain them in light and memory. A great work, a long, hard work.

After the last two were taken by the valar, a child found a way to preserve them. The light faded, but a child of one who tried to save a flower had placed the flower on the table, and a book carelessly on top. Hours, perhaps days, perhaps minutes later - without it it was simply too hard to tell, and too painful to mark the hours - it was found. Pressed flat and dry, dead but not decaying. She showed her friends who gathered more, and slowly, slowly, these pressed flowers, and later dried seeds, they remained. With the rest of us. Not to last forever, not anymore. We know better now. But to last a bit longer, to bear us to the new ages of the world where all is changed.

[joviantwelve]

a story about video game preservation

The original reason I was interested in the GB Operator is because my Pokemon GSC cartridges had their CMOS batteries die, so the saves disappeared along with the clock functionality. Thankfully, this does not extend to every GB game I own (besides Pokemon Yellow, which I have no idea how that one corrupted, RIP), but I do know that, in general, physical media can't last forever, so I've been interested in how to preserve the rest of what I own...

Now that I have the Operator, this has all been done, but this was not without the terrible tragedy of the aforementioned Pokemon games. I've been with Pokemon since RBY, but GSC is when it felt like a truly huge phenomenon, when I'd chat up random kids and trade with them, etc...

...and more importantly, when I'd start fudging things a little, and cheat. Shh.

This is where our story begins.

During those RBY days, I was vaguely aware of kids using Gamesharks and whatever to hack their teams and Pokedex. I'm fairly certain one of my elementary school friends was doing just that--he'd trade me max level starters, Dragonites, even Mew, etc., when I knew, reasonably, that it didn't make sense he had all of these. There was no breeding yet!! How did he convince someone else to give up their own starter Pokemon?! I never asked him about it, and he moved away, but it's always been in the back of my mind.

Fast forward a couple years after GSC came out. I'm like 11. I see this thing at GameStop:

The Pelican BrainBoy. This is my own photo from today. I have dug this out just for you. (NOTE: The "colorizer" button was so you could apply your own custom palettes into GB games, which was a pretty cute feature, looking back.)

This baby basically let you do anything to Pokemon RBY/GSC, at least as far as Pokemon were concerned. You could modify anything--nicknames, gender, EXP, movesets, etc. It was especially funny throwing the results into Pokemon Stadium and seeing Pokemon Fly or Surf that normally couldn't.

I usually played it pretty low-key though, just marking my Pokedex as complete and raising my 'mons to level 100, because fuck grinding. Reading up about this thing at present though, and I hear stories of people hacking Pokemon to distribute at recess for all their friends...lmao. Why didn't I do any of that?!

I always regretted the Pokedex bit, though, since that wasn't something you could take back. I was really proud of completing all 151 in Blue (though with the help of said suspect-of-cheating friend above), and never had the patience to fill a Pokedex in any game again. Even if I had thrown that challenge out, I still kind of wish I had like…the organic proof of how far I had gotten. Oh well!

(The site does not lead anywhere nowadays. I just checked.)

Anyway, this shit looked absolutely ugly already, but it looks doubly ugly jutting out of a GBA SP. The GB cart goes in upside-down on the other side of the device, creating a monstrosity basically as long and as thick as the SP itself.

I hadn't actually touched the BrainBoy since RSE came out. There was no need to. I had long lost my GSC saves, which still stung. There was still a lot of "me" left behind there. Gold was when I first built a team using entirely what I liked aesthetically, whereas in RBY I was mostly following what seemed the coolest and most powerful. Even though I hacked the Pokedex, the Pokemon in my PC were still all ones I caught organically. I even caught my first shiny, a Spearow! (It only looked one shade different, back then, and I was so disappointed I never evolved it.) Crystal and Silver were more my "anything goes" carts, where I did the majority of my goofy tinkering.

After the batteries died, the only evidence of these games were my teams that I had imported into Pokemon Stadium 2. In some ways it made it hurt more, since the personal decorated bedroom also showed up there after importing a game.......I really loved that feature, lmao. All of that was now just a reminder of nostalgic times I can't even revisit for funsies.

I boot the BrainBoy partially because I want to see if the GB Operator can back it up (it can't; it just detects the cart attached to it), and also to hear the absolutely asinine, obnoxious menu music that bored its way into my brain back then.

God I did not miss that menu music.

But then I notice something.

Huh?

(anime girl voice) EEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!??!?

Oh god, I didn't remember this feature at all! Please please please let 11 year old me be as smart as I hope she is PLEASE--

OUGHAURYGHUHARGHHUHRJHUAYRH JACKPOT

IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE?!

At this point I am basically screaming. All along, my prodigal save file was hiding away in some cheat device I bought on a whim 20 years ago. I had previously contemplated throwing out the BrainBoy MULTIPLE TIMES, since I had no use for it anymore.

BUT I GUESS. I DID ACTUALLY HAVE A USE FOR IT. I JUST. FORGOT?

Honestly, it's likely I just didn't even think of it as a backup device, and used the feature exactly once, just because it was there. I had no idea the clock batteries running out meant the death of your save. I didn't even know those carts had special batteries. I was just here to hack Mew and Celebi into my games. It's no wonder I forgot about it.

I have no idea when these save snapshots were taken, but they seem to have everything I remember. I wasn't really fucking around with my Gold cart until after I beat Red, at least.

Of course, the battery still being dead in the cart means that it doesn't "stick" and still can't be backed up (since turning off the console to put the cart in the GB Operator nukes it), but this is so much more than I ever expected to see again. Like, an actual fucking time capsule. These Pokemon could never escape the GB era; meanwhile, Pokemon from RSE and up could still exist in a game today. It just never felt quite fair to let RBY/GSC be subjected to a slow death of dead batteries and bit rot.

What a surprise this turned out to be!!

And the biggest surprise of all:

I had no idea I nicknamed my first shiny. Her name is Shinygirl.......I kind of got emotional. Shinygirl...!! 😭😭😭

WELL THEN.

I immediately ordered the special kind of screwdriver you need to open up a GB cartridge. Going to pop some fresh batteries in, flash the save through the BrainBoy, and finally preserve these forever!

Moral of the story...always check things before you consider throwing them out. One last time can't hurt.

PS: Pokemon Yellow also had a backup, which is great, because as I said before, I have no idea how that cart erased itself. Maybe I accidentally powered off while saving or something?? But it has no fiddly clock battery, so the cart's holding my save again.

PPS: If you're still here, behold! The Operator also has preserved my old GB Camera pics, which was also shocking to me, because that's another cart I thought erased itself:

????!?!??!?!?!?!??!???!??? We HAD digital cameras...but I deliberately took vacation photos of Yellowstone with the GB Camera, because I was 12 and that's what 12 year olds do when they have a funny toy.

I SWEAR to GOD I distinctly remember, like around college I wanna say, digging out the GB Camera, wanting to revisit that, and being devastated because there were no photos in the gallery. And yet here they are. I didn't even do anything. Magic.

Thank you GB Operator. Thank you Pelican BrainBoy. Wow.

[iviarellereads]

Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory(1)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which we see another side of things.

Initially released as a preorder bonus for Network Effect, and later published for free on the Tor.com website, this story is set just after Exit Strategy.

In the third person present,(2) Ayda Mensah is talking to Ephraim, another planetary councilor who was previously planetary leader and should know better than the conversation they're having. It doesn't help that they're in an office the same size as the room she was held captive in on TranRollinHyfa, but the message pinging in her feed helps some.

Ephraim is asking if something is a good idea, and Mensah lies and says if she'd known all this would happen, she'd have chosen a different planet to survey and invest in. She wouldn't, of course, because then Murderbot would still be property, and Mensah would likely be dead somewhere.(3)

Finally, Ephraim gets around to saying some of what he really wants to say, but instead of "killing machine", he calls MB a "product of corporate surveillance capitalism and authoritarian enforcement".

This, Mensah can work with. She's been opening the messages from said killing machine in her feed, an escalating sequence of requests for absurd armaments. She tells it she doesn't even know what the last one is. To Ephraim, Mensah says MB has saved her life and the lives of her team multiple times. To herself, she thinks how MB isn't supposed to have access to the systems or requisition forms to issue these requests at all, but she knows it's just "refusing to pretend to be anything other than it is" which is the only way forward, after all.(4)

If she’s honest with herself, which she hasn’t been, not since arriving back home, she would admit that being in this room has put her in a cold sweat. It helps that Ephraim’s here, but she would have to get up and walk out if not for those message packets.

Mensah can count on Ephraim not to argue that MB isn't a person, and thus not to argue that it's not qualified as a refugee. Everyone in Preservation is a descendant of refugees, and even the station is built on the ship that saved their grandparents' lives for no reason except that it could.

Ephraim does, however, ask if Mensah can separate MB as a person from the purpose for which it was created. Mensah can't deny that MB is potentially dangerous, but there's no evidence it would see that potential realized. And she half-admits to herself, sideways, that her head is still on TRH, and every ping from MB reminds her of the moment when she first got a ping from MB during the rescue. That's why the pings help so much.(5) So, to Ephraim, she says the person already separated itself.

They talk for another twenty minutes, but come to no conclusion except that they'll need to have this conversation several more times with the rest of the council. As Mensah makes to leave, she responds to MB's latest request by accusing it of making this gunship specsheet up.

Mensah offers a paragraph of her thoughts on the Corporation Rim and their relationship to slavery, and how MB proves that constructs are very much aware of their situations, no matter what humans tell themselves to sleep at night.

She meets Bharadwaj in her office lounge, and they discuss the potential scope of influence of the documentary. The Corporation Rim propaganda about SecUnits was powerful enough to even convince Preservation they weren't people. It'll be years, minimum, before they can really make the difference that's needed more widely. Mensah thinks of the first incident with Volescu and how she had been thinking of MB as an object, but knew immediately that nothing without sentience could have talked Volescu through that climb.(6)

Bharadwaj says they can't ignore the bit where SecUnits have capacity to be dangerous, as much or more than humans, or their argument will be twisted to absurdity. Mensah acknowledges that, thinking how SecUnits have their arm energy weapons, and can calculate how to survive a jump off a moving vehicle, and hack entire stations. Only, it took humans to engineer that capacity, and humans are the ones who hire or build people to do all that dirty work for them. She makes a note of this in their working document, to potentially build a theme around.

Mensah's feed pings with another request from MB. Aloud, she remarks how it's listening to them. Privately, she thinks how hard it must be to respect other people's privacy when you've had none of your own without a struggle.

Hard not to be paranoid when you remember all the times your paranoia was justified.(7)

Mensah thinks about what it's like, to be treated as a thing, and having no safety, and how her time as a hostage was in no way comparable to what MB went through. She even thinks Murderbot's private name, though corrects herself to SecUnit, since she wasn't ever really given its permission to use the other.(8) She reminds herself that these comparisons aren't helpful, and that fear is fear.(9)

Bharadwaj comments about MB's latest request, and Mensah looks at it, and sends back that she believes it's real but spiky backpacks seem impractical.

Later, in the suite, the team gets down to the business of finishing their survey reports, with MB sitting in a chair in the corner. As they sort through documents, MB asks if Mensah didn't receive "the Retrieved Client Protocol". Mensah says no, she didn't, and thinks how she didn't want a corporate digging around in her feelings in the name of trauma treatment. She almost adds that she doesn't need it, but, that would be a dead giveaway that she does, and why lie to the only people who know?

MB asks if trauma treatment is free here, and Arada naively asks if it's not free in the Corp Rim. Pin-Lee gets grumpy about the company letting Mensah getting abducted then wanting her to pay for treatment, and MB's face makes "a brief, eloquent ironic twist" that Mensah interprets to mean the treatment definitely isn't free for corporate clients. In response, she tells it that there's no RCP here. Overse clarifies that there is, it's just not called that. Bharadwaj says Volescu's been attending the trauma unit at a certain medical station on planet, and even station medical has some therapeutic treatment, though it's not as intensive.

Mensah, uncomfortable, pours herself another cup of tea as she says she "might have time later" for it. When she looks up, MB is looking straight at her. Mensah flushes, knowing she's been caught in her lie, but Gurathin saves her by asking if there's more sweetener syrup. Mensah offers to get more, to stretch her legs, and avoid an awkward confrontation.

Having spent so much time recently in the Corp Rim, Mensah half-marvels at how everything, the food supplies in the hotel pantry, even the bathrooms and showers, all of it is free on the station and the planet, even to visitors.(10)

As she closes the door to the pantry, she's startled by a stranger standing nearby. He asks if she's Dr. Mensah. She gasps, steps back, and bumps into MB. He says he's just a journalist. MB tells the man station security is seconds out, and starts counting backwards. He flees, and everyone else comes out of the room to see where MB went. Ratthi says it jumped right over him on its way to help. Mensah tells them to go back in, she's fine and she'll talk to security. They go, more because they're used to taking her direct orders as their mission lead than because she's a planetary leader.

Security notify Mensah in her feed that they've apprehended the journalist, and will vet his story before they decide what to do with him, but they'll be in for a statement shortly. Mensah knows she has to get herself together before then, and MB's looming presence, radiating heat as comfort, stands out to her. It offers to let her hug it. Mensah says she knows it doesn't enjoy that, but it says it's not terrible, with an ironic tone.

But, Mensah doesn't want to lean on someone who doesn't want to be leaned on. She doesn't want to rely on it for emotional stability when it has its whole life to figure out. She can only give it space and time… or, perhaps a little something.

She asks if any of its requests were serious, and it says it would like some little intel drones. Mensah remembers how useful they were on the survey, and says she'll try. MB asks if that's a bribe, and Mensah says that depends on whether it works.(11) MB admits it's never been bribed before, falls silent for a moment, then suggests Mensah get the trauma treatment the others mentioned.

Mensah, aware that her hesitation is founded in exactly the problem the treatment would solve, lies and says she'll try to do it. MB snorts skeptically, and she knows it's not buying. But, it doesn't say anything, just slips away as security reach the outer lobby.(12)

=====

(1) How do you think the title relates to the content of the story, now, after presumably having read it? The sub-parts of the title are all ways of defining the main one: your home might be described in terms of all four of those things. We usually see them used to describe animal behaviour, though: animals live in habitats, they live in typically defined ranges, they occupy niches in their territories. How does this affect how you think of the story told within? (For me, I take what I think is probably a very simplistic view of it, and interpret the story as being an examination of Mensah trying to return home but finding that she doesn't fit into her old space the way she once did, she has changed, and that changes all the associated factors even though they aren't addressed much directly in this story.) (2) The choice of POV and tense is so interesting here, don't you think? Murderbot's books have been documenting its past. This is narrated as-it-happens, with a certain tension that MB's books don't invoke. Which is extra curious, because nothing particularly tense happens here, action-wise. Do you think the tense choice is intended to make up for that and amplify the interpersonal drama, or for does it have some other purpose? (3) Would she? If she'd been surveying a planet that didn't have alien remnants, she might not have pissed off a corp like GrayCris, might not have ended up held hostage like that, might not have had attempts on her life. I mean, she might still have, eventually, but not necessarily. (4) I believe this is mostly in reference to the plan to use the documentary as anti-Corporate propaganda to initiate operation: free and rehabilitate the constructs. At least, that's what I get from the propaganda discussion later on.

(5) God, my heart, their friendship. We've only ever seen it from MB's side. It has a good idea of how Mensah feels around it, but it's something else to see the total reciprocation inside her head. (6) A beautiful callback to the first book. MB didn't even realize that it had done this, it had so much else going on in that moment, and yet it showed such kindness even as its MedSystem told it not to bother. Preservation might have been more open to recognizing that for what it was, making it rather fortunate for all involved that they did take notice, but it's an interesting hint that MB was Being A Person for a lot longer than it wanted to admit. (7) Which, of course, goes for both of them. So many of her comments throughout this are about both herself and MB. It's rather lucky she's had such a solid rock to lean on, because if she were refusing trauma treatment and didn't have MB around… I don't think she'd be as functional as she is. (8) I frequently see folks in the Tumblr tags posting about how it feels weird to call it "Murderbot" when we, personally, haven't been given permission to use that name. And I totally get that! It's important to respect what people ask to be named in the real world, and MB, as a fictional character, isn't really in a place to give us that permission as readers. However, I fall on team "use Murderbot as readers" for three reasons: that's the name of the series which gives us implicit permission to use it by the author, MB isn't a real person to tell me not to call it by the series that's named for it or pick another name we can use instead, and SecUnits are referred to often enough that it would be confusing at best to try to do this project without naming MB somewhat uniquely. If MB were real and didn't die of embarrassment at having its private name the only one it's known by, I would absolutely respect its wishes.

(9) The phrasing here is so vague, I genuinely can't tell if we should interpret that Mensah is forgiving herself for making that empathetic connection, or if she's suggesting she should stop making the comparison because it's potentially harmful to MB. I love that ambiguity, myself. You can learn a lot about yourself by what you project into it. (10) I feel like part of this is for the reader's benefit, but I can definitely see her realizing not to take it for granted. Particularly on the heels of the conversation about corporate trauma treatment protocol not being free, some part of her recognizes how lucky, how privileged she is, in her way, to have access to whatever she needs, with no questions asked. We know she takes the treatment later, as part of her deal with MB when it goes on Arada's survey mission. Perhaps we get this short story as a sort of… insight? into her first steps from where she was in Exit Strategy to where we saw her in Network Effect. Or maybe I'm overthinking it. (11) I dunno about you, but I can definitely see how her family would interpret this as some sort of flirting. Like, we know there's nothing romantic or sexual about it. MB is an aroace icon. But, the intimacy of the banter, you know? So often people don't have relationships like that outside the romantic and sexual ones, so people who don't think that's possible or reasonable project their assumption that intimacy can ONLY be romantic-sexual onto perfectly platonic interaction. (I will not start my rant about sexualizing the behaviour of children, but know that it exists and is absolutely related to how people project their defaults onto blank slates.) (12) So, how do you think MB feels about all this? It feels safe enough to leave her alone as security approaches, but what's it thinking about Mensah's state of being? How do we get from this interaction, to her taking the treatment in the bargaining conditions?

[alwaysbewoke]

'A Man Who Stands for Nothing Will Fall for Anything'—Here Are 150 of the Best Malcolm X Quotes

“There is no better than adversity. Every defeat, every heartbreak, every loss, contains its own seed, its own lesson on how to improve your performance next time.”

“My alma mater was books, a good library… I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity.”

“Any time you beg another man to set you free, you will never be free. Freedom is something that you have to do for yourselves.”

“I have no mercy or compassion in me for a society that will crush people, and then penalize them for not being able to stand up under the weight.”

“Without education, you’re not going anywhere in this world.”

“It is a time for martyrs now, and if I am to be one, it will be for the cause of brotherhood. That’s the only thing that can save this country.”

“Right now, in every big city ghetto, tens of thousands of yesterday's and today's school dropouts are keeping body and soul together by some form of hustling in the same way I did.”

“All of us—who might have probed space, or cured cancer, or built industries—were, instead, black victims of the white man’s American social system.”

“When ghetto living seems normal, you have no shame, no privacy.”

"I think that an objective reader may see how in the society to which I was exposed as a black youth here in America, for me to wind up in a prison was really just about inevitable. It happens to so many thousands of black youth.”

“When a person places the proper value on freedom, there is nothing under the sun that he will not do to acquire that freedom. Whenever you hear a man saying he wants freedom, but in the next breath he is going to tell you what he won’t do to get it, or what he doesn’t believe in doing in order to get it, he doesn’t believe in freedom. A man who believes in freedom will do anything under the sun to acquire . . . or preserve his freedom.

“I'm sorry to say that the subject I most disliked was mathematics. I have thought about it. I think the reason was that mathematics leaves no room for argument. If you made a mistake, that was all there was to it.”

“You're not to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who does it or says it”

“You don’t have to be a man to fight for freedom. All you have to do is to be an intelligent human being.”

“I have often reflected upon the new vistas that reading has opened to me. I knew right there in prison that reading had changed forever the course of my life. As I see it today, the ability to read awoke inside me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive.

“It is only after slavery and prison that the sweetest appreciation of freedom can come. ”

"[...]After becoming a Muslim in prison, I read almost everything I could put my hands on in the prison library. I began to think back on everything I had read and especially with the histories, I realized that nearly all of them read by the general public have been made into white histories. I found out that the history-whitening process either had left out great things that black men had done, or some of the great black men had gotten whitened.”

“True Islam taught me that it takes all of the religious, political, economic, psychological, and racial ingredients, or characteristics, to make the Human Family and the Human Society complete.”

“America needs to understand Islam, because this is the one religion that erases from its society the race problem. Throughout my travels in the Muslim world, I have met, talked to, and even eaten with people who in America would have been considered white, but the white attitude was removed from their minds by the religion of Islam. I have never before seen sincere and true brotherhood practiced by all together, irrespective of their color.”

“The hardest test I ever faced in my life was praying.”

more here...

[libraryoftime]

Science fiction is full of first contact stories, but is there a such thing as LAST contact?  Decide exactly what that means, and write about it.

 elidyce

It was too late, when the humans came. They were a young species, still exploring outwards, vital and thriving. 

We… were not. 

War had ravaged us, and sickness, and war once again, until our population dwindled beyond the point of recovery. We struggled against that, of course… we used genetic manipulation, and cloning, and even more desperate measures. None succeeded. When the humans came, we were sinking into apathy, only a few tens of us left. We had begun to discuss whether we should commit a mass suicide, or simply wait to fade away. 

And then the young species came, in their clumsy ships, and they asked us why we were so few. 

“We are becoming extinct,” we told them. “We have passed the point of recovery.” 

It is custom to avoid the races that are dying – once a species reaches the point of inevitable extinction, even war is suspended, and the fiercest enemy pulls back. The custom was born of plagues and poisons that could be carried forth from a dying world to afflict a healthy one, but it has the implacable weight of tradition now. After we are gone, after they have waited for the prescribed period of quarantine, there will be a fight for our world. Habitable worlds are few, and this is a good one, with plenty of free groundwater and thriving vegetation. It is a bitter thing to be grateful for the custom that allows us to die in peace, but we are grateful.

But the humans don’t know that custom, and they do not leave. They seem distraught, when we tell them we are dying, and try to offer their aid - but their technology is behind ours, and it is too late. When they realize that they can’t save us, though, they do something that bewilders us. 

They start frantically gathering information. Not our technology, though they accept that when we offer it. But they go into abandoned records, carefully preserving them. They make copies of our books and record us talking about our history, singing our songs, describing the simplest things – our foods, our games, popular stories for children. Anything and everything that we are willing to share, they seem to want. We find it pleasant to talk about better times, the things the youngest of us only know of from the elders, but we don’t understand why they’re so interested.

Then they start to build things. In our abandoned cities, and by our sacred places (never in them, but nearby), and at every spaceport. Stone structures, whose purpose we don’t understand.

I was one of the youngest, and I am still hale enough to go outside and look at the stone thing they are building in the town where the last of us have gathered. It is tall - at least ten times the height of a human, five times my own height, and when I look up at it I see images of both our races, as well as many words in their language and ours, though they’re hard for failing eyes to read. “What is it for?” 

“It is a monument.” The nurse who has become my attendant - we all have them, now, as age begins to rob us of our strength - lays her small hand gently on my forelimb, in what for humans is a comforting gesture. “We make them, to help us remember the past.” 

I don’t understand that, so she shows me pictures. So many pictures… of buildings, and of statues, and of great slabs or spires or pyramids of stone. Some have names written on them, for remembrance, or pictograms, or even faces. Some are thousands of years old, but still exist, zealously protected by the unimaginably distant descendants of those who built them. Others, she says sadly, have been lost, and she sounds as grieved over that loss as if they were living beings she mourns. 

“But what are they for?” I ask again, still groping towards the deeper meaning. My people do not keep records in this way, and never have, nor can I imagine my spirit aching for a lost stone tablet or statue. Perhaps it is because they are more reliant on sight than we are – my species first communicated by scent, and then by sound, with sight always a distant third to us. Nor have we ever valued permanence… we resigned ourselves to the necessities of forged metal and hardened ceramics, for space-flight, and we have a few stone buildings, but we always preferred wood, for its scent and memory of life.

“They are…” She hesitates, seeking the right words. “They are all for different purposes, but… also all for the same purpose, underneath.” She touches a picture of a statue, ancient and damaged, yet clearly of a woman as human as the nurse beside me. “We were here. We mattered. We lived. Do not forget us.” She touches my forelimb again. “We do not want you to disappear and be forgotten. We will remember you, when you are gone.”

I think about that, all that night, looking up at the stars that we once travelled between. About an ancient species that lived always in the present, and a young species so determined to remember not only their own history, but ours. A young species that tends a dying one with kindness and compassion, that records our history and builds monuments to our memory. They don’t know what will happen to this planet when we’re gone. The fighting to take it for one species or another, the destruction of what is left of us to make way for someone new. That is how it has always been.

But the humans are different. Maybe this can change, too.

There are only fourteen of us left, when I call the last Planetary Council together. Fourteen, of a species that once numbered in billions. The Council had once had hundreds. But the fourteen of us were, still, the Planetary Council, every dying member having nominated a younger being to take their place, until the last of us stood in command of an empty planet.

“We should invite the humans to live here,” I tell the others, and I hear murmuring among the nurses who are gathered around us, for several are too frail now to move without attendants. They sound surprised.

“That is not the custom,” says the eldest remaining, an attenuated, fragile thing of chitin so thin that her pulsing organs showed through. “There will be a period of quarantine, then a battle. That is how it has always been.”

“Not always. Planets have been sold, or taken by conquest, or even settled in cooperation.” I fold my forelimbs together carefully. My joints are stiff, now. “Now, we will create a new tradition. We will leave our world to the humans, who have cared for us, by bequest and death-right. We are the Planetary Council. What we declare is law, is law, within our own solar system.” It has always been so. If we do not respect the sovereignty of other species in their home systems, what are we?

Of course, war is different. The Alnathids will be furious, and we all chitter in pleasure at that thought. They were the ones who destroyed us, and no doubt have only been waiting for us to die so they can take our planet. However, if we will it to the humans, the Alnathids will have to declare war on them and defeat them before they can lay any claim to this world… and the humans who have been so kind to a dying people can fight like things out of nightmare when they feel they must, as more than one warlike species has learned to their cost.

The others agree, and my nurse helps me to the old communications arrays that the humans maintain for us. The last mandate of our Planetary Council goes out, and it is this – that if there are those willing to risk plagues and poisons and ill-luck, and tend the dying with kindness and compassion, and preserve their memory, then the beings who have offered that last kindness may be named the heirs of that dying species. Keepers of Memory, we name them, and Preservers of History, and we leave them our planet for so long as we are remembered by them.

They come to thank me, the captains of the two ‘Aid’ vessels that stayed to tend us and record our memories, and water flows from their eyes in their strange, silent display of grief as they promise never to forget. The monuments and the records will be treasured as their own are, they say, and they will tell our stories to their own children, so that they, too, remember.

There are six of us left, when the first colony ships come. We are old now – we are not a long-lived species, not even so long as the humans – but we watch the colonists set to work. They study our planet, its ecosystems and its biology, and the nurses tell us that it is human custom to change themselves to fit the planet, rather than change the planet to fit them. They will engineer enzymes for their own digestive systems, adjust their own biology, until they are comfortable here. For the first time I, the last child of a dying race, hear children playing and voices raised in song. It is a comfort, and I leave the windows open to listen.

I am the last to die. When I am gone, they will do for me as they have done for the others, carrying my body out to the tomb they have built for us, laying me to rest with reverence. We did not preserve the bodies of our dead, but we agreed to this, to let them remember us in the traditions of their own people. I am the last of my kind, but I will not die alone, nor unloved.

The humans will be happy on our world, or so I hope. They will settle it, and adapt to it, and it will change under their hands as it changed under ours. But I believe that they will keep their bargain with us. Their records, their monuments, their images of us will remind them who we were. Because of them, we will not entirely disappear. 

We were here. We mattered. We lived. 

They will not forget.

[silvawardrobesvd]

The Shoe Rack Dilemma: Weighing the Pros and Cons of Built-In Wardrobe Storage

When people talk about built in wardrobes Allambie Heights, they always think of drawers, cabinets, and any other space where they can place their clothes and jewellery. However, aside from these two, your shoes can also be the ones to benefit from the wardrobe. It helps in ensuring that every space is occupied and keeps the room clean. If you want shoe racks in your wardrobe, here are some pros and cons you need to consider:

Pros

Organisation

The first benefit of having a shoe rack is you can easily organise your footwear. You do not need to leave them on the door or the floor because there is a specific place where you can keep them safe. Your shoes are safely stored in one place, making them easy to find too.

Space-Saving

If your home has limited space, you need to ensure that every space is used for something more useful. If buying a separate shoe rack will be an issue, then it is time to consider having it in your wardrobe. Some companies offer customisation to let you decide what to have in your home. Efficient storage is crucial in any home, whether big or small, so be mindful of how you use it.

Preservation

Proper keeping of footwear can extend its lifespan and ensure that it is always in a safe and good condition. Shoe racks might look like simple storage tools, but they keep your shoes in good shape. You do not need to worry about it getting crushed or damaged, especially if you have kids or pets that love to keep picking up things on the floor.

Easy Cleaning

Cleaning is a task many people have a hard time doing because it can take too much time and energy. However, it is the only way to keep your property livable and clean. To make the task easy, keeping your shoes in one place is a good idea. You will see your things in one place and ensure they are clean and safe.

Pairs Kept Together

Keeping your footwear everywhere can make them scatter without noticing. So, once you need them, you spend time looking for them in your home. Do not let this experience drain your time and energy because it is not worth it. Instead of leaving them on the floor or outside, the shoe rack will be their home.

Cons

Limited Capacity

Since the wardrobe will be finished with proper and strong materials, extending the shoe rack can be challenging. You may find yourself having a hard time looking for a space for new shoes, making you think of ways to keep them without letting them be out of your sight. In this case, you can either adjust your shoe collection or have a separate shoe rack for your needs.

Requires Maintenance

Every piece of furniture and appliance you have at home requires maintenance, even a wardrobe and shoe rack. If you do not maintain their good condition, do not expect them to last for years. It can be difficult to clean and make your space look dirty and unorganised. If you do not know anything about extensive maintenance, it is okay. Start with regular cleaning to prevent dust buildup, but leave the challenging steps to the professionals.

Cost

Any customised projects can be costly, and it is not any different when it comes to wardrobe and shoe racks. If shoes are your life, you need to spend a considerable amount to let your footwear have a safe and high-quality home.

Installation

Installing shoe racks in wardrobes can also be a disadvantage because of how challenging it can be. In this factor, it is better to leave everything to the professionals. Their work will also give you peace of mind because you know that people who are knowledgeable and skilled enough are the ones who handled it.

May Cause Odours

One of the problems people face in having shoe racks in wardrobes is the smell. If the shoes are in an enclosed space, the smell might stay there and only be out when opened. Think of this disadvantage because it can affect your entire experience in having the shoe racks.

Understanding the pros and cons of shoe racks in wardrobes can help you decide if it is for you or not. Be critical because once the project starts, turning back might not be an option. Weigh everything to ensure you will make the right decision.

[ideahat-universe]

Not your hard drive, not your data.

There's been a lot of bad news regarding actually owning anything that was digitally acquired. From Funimation to Sony. A lot of stuff people bought just stopped existing.

Ross Scott from game dungeon is trying to end the perma death that takes place with Live Service games.

It's gotten people to really talk about buying physical media again.

And to me, this is a flawed thought process. Owning the physical device won't save it forever. In fact, most media does have a physical form. Companies typically keep a master copy of whatever is created and sold/broadcast. A lot of that content becomes essentially lost media but in reality, we're just looking for someone who is willing to digitize the only physical copy that exists for that item.

You're thinking "Oda, one copy is good. It's better than no copies, and all we want is to own a copy and we're willing to pay for it to and that will preserve it better in the end." And that's a convincing argument. But we need to talk about how things are preserved.

CDs are how most TV shows and video games are saved and copied and CDs can last anywhere between 20 to 100 years.

Did I say 20 to 100 years? I mean to say, 1 day to whenever you scratch it accidentally. Sun damage, dropping on the floor, having it sit on a surface and gather dust, hell, running the CD wears it out after awhile.

This is the same issue with books. Of course we need to keep books. Books are valuable and priceless, but if you aren't keeping your books maintained by rebinding it, touching up the faded ink, and keeping the book basically unmolested in a temp controlled container, it's going to rot on your shelf and become useless. Hell, forget about extremists burning your books. Bugs are going to eat it first.

Having multiple physical copies is the way but it should be in a format that is easily transferable. CDs are quickly becoming obsolete and once CD drivers stop being built it will be a pain in the ass to rip data from a CD (This isn't even including Blueray CDs which are even harder to extract data from).

What you don't want is to just have a CD of the game or TV show. You just need physical data on a hard drive. Once you have a copy on your hard drive, you can copy that data onto other hard drives, you can copy that data onto a cloud service that you use like Dropbox or Megaupload. You can also illegally torrent or re-upload your copy so other people can have it.

I see this argument a lot in digital currency spaces. Just because it's effectively invisible doesn't mean it doesn't exist physically. Physical ownership should not mean becoming a very organized hoarder.

It should mean dumping and ripping everything you buy whether it's some CD you bought at Best Buy or it's some show you bought legally on a online store that you don't really own because the fine print said you were just renting it long term but fuck them, you bought it, therefore you should use video rippers to make whatever you bought actually yours (and if you are wondering, no, I don't use those specific methods but the method I use I had to actually pay for).

And once you have it. Make a backup, Make a backup of that backup, make a remote backup, and make sure when your time comes someone can find your copy of it.

With video games there are data dumpers and ROM sites galore. The really hard part is getting a emulator that runs the games effectively. Citra was caught in the AOE when Nintendo Ulted Yuzu and they just Surrendered at 20. Even when Citra was alive though it wasn't replacing a 3DS in a lot of ways. There are a lot of games that were dependent on the various software and hardware functions that a 3DS had that the Citra doesn't accurately replicate. You CAN play Tomodachi Life on a Citra but good luck not destroying your OLED from your miis asking for sneeze assistance. Forget using the AR camera or even the normal camera. Citra crashes or creates scrambled images when taking in game screenshots.

The mic doesn't work either so mic related games just don't work.

But Tomodachi Life can be generally played. It gets uglier when you think about games like Rusty's Real Deal baseball. A game that requires you connecting to the store to make a purchase. An action that is completely impossible now. How about all the games that were Mii related? Spotpass? Streetpass?

Eccentric games that requires specific hardware and software to run are basically easy to copy but impossible to run. Real preservation is in completely replicating the environment they used to function in which is a level of techno wizardry most people don't have.

Which brings me to the Sisyphean task of making sure games with dedicated servers gain the ability to live forever as a zombie.

When a multiplayer game is kept alive through user owned servers, it lives in only the most literal sense. Imagine all those failed live service games that had their audience dwindle down to zero before closing forever. Would those games have been saved if you just gave players the ability to set up their own server? No, because most of those games require several hundred players to really function correctly.

Similar to how just owning the ROM to Rusty's Real Deal Baseball doesn't grant you the ability to play it like it originally was. A live service game that has lost 99% of its audience is not saved by having it's existence put on life support via the one person willing to host a server for it and maybe five other people willing to play it for a few hours a year.

It is unfortunate but in order to actually preserve Live Service games we have to let them die and allow for the idea that made the game to be reborn into something more sustainable. Instead of a Live Service or an MMO it's just a single player experience. Maybe it is multiplayer but the other players are just sophisticated AI and the occasional human player.

Preservation isn't just about having something sitting around and rotting. It's about acquiring something at it's most functional, and then replicating that and if something truly cannot be saved, it must be remembered and remade. CDs, Books, even Hard Drives die.

But ideas are forever.

[beaconskyhospitality1]

THE ART OF SUSTAINABLE HOTEL DESIGN

How do you slash operating costs, gain respect in the community and fill more rooms? “Go green or get left behind.” That’s the message hoteliers are receiving.

Sustainability is a hot topic in the hospitality industry and will only become increasingly important as travelers demand environmentally aware travel experiences. No longer a nice after thought, green practices are fast becoming an essential part of hotel development and management strategy to reduce the impact of operations on the environment (as well as the budget), and enhance credibility with locals and visitors alike.

Mark Van Ogtrop of Beacon Sky Hospitality’s Trend Watch, met with Armelle Le Bihan, Founder & Director of Green Building Consulting and Engineering to discuss the art of sustainable hospitality design

MVO: Tell me about your company and your ‘brand promise’?

ALB: “We help create high performance buildings that promote people’s well being while preserving the planet. We support our clients in their sustainability journey by designing and defining the sustainability strategy for their business. Our aim is to optimise operational designs by developing concepts and design specifications that meet sustainability standards and international certifications. We develop guidelines that have environmental as well as social meaning. This applies to new builds but also existing buildings (renovation).

MVO: What are some sustainable design construction trends in hospitality?

ALB: “There is a growing demand for self-sustainable or ‘off the grid’ construction. Especially for hotels in rural areas or on islands. Self-sustained means independent from municipal utilities. Built to produce their own energy and water. Secondly there is a shift to a broader understanding of the concept of ‘carbon footprint’. Now, when a business conducts a carbon assessment, they factor in the whole business: operations, the building, the suppliers. We also see an awareness a greater focus on the life cycle of the materials used. How much energy, how much carbon, and how much water is used to manufacture them? Thirdly there is a growing awareness of healthy buildings. For hospitality and offices also. Buildings that have better air quality, better ventilation and access to natural views and nature.”

MVO: Is green construction more expensive?

ALB: “This is a big misconception. It’s unfortunate that sustainability is seen as an extra cost in the hospitality sector. If anything it’s an investment. The average initial increased cost is less than 2%. People think it’s 20%. The carbon trust estimates that you can save around 20% on your energy bills by implementing low cost and no cost measures. These measures payback in less than one year. On top of which, with the increase of environmental regulations, these measures are slowly not becoming an option. Then there is the shift in consumer trends. People want green. Trip Advisor reports that 60% of guests are looking for environmentally aware hotels. Investors need to understand there’s a risk of obsolescence in building assets that don’t take sustainability measures into account.”

MVO: What do you recommend to hospitality investors looking to start up a sustainable hotel?

ALB: “The first thing is to ensure you bring in the right consultants at the outset of the project. There are a lot of opportunities at the design and architecture phase: the shape and orientation of the building. Architecture that works with the climate to conserve water, energy, light and ventilation.” I would also suggest a local focus. On products and materials. Guests are looking for meaningful experiences. Their business will have a responsibility to the planet so all the solutions for green hotels help guests participate in solving crisis issues like climate change, waste disposal and air pollution.

MVO: Is there a financial advantage as well as an environmental advantage to sustainability?

ALB: “The two major drivers of green development are brand enhancement and lower operational costs. So in terms of marketing advantage, you can enhance your brand and corporate image, which in turn improves customer loyalty and satisfaction. It is all linked. In terms of financial value, of course, you save on the cost of energy and water. But there are less obvious payoffs as well. Higher asset value of buildings, higher occupancy rates. Climate change, air pollution and waste aren’t just all environmental issues, they are economic issues and this has financial value.

Beacon Sky Hospitality is an advisory firm based in Thailand, specializing in the hospitality industry. Providing qualified guidance and solutions to owners, developers of hospitality real estate, including hotel, resorts and independent living projects. Beacon Sky Hospitality’s services comprise owner advisory and asset management, development advisory, operations and management solutions, financial advisory and independent living community development.

[textbook-dinner]

trippy dream i had last night (long post)

i was a normal citizen of a normal town. it was pretty peaceful, and i went shopping in the shopping centre every day for gardening equipment. that is, until the village elder (who looked like my old history teacher) called us to a meeting. he said an ancient monster was coming, and we had to get into our underground bunker. he also collected our school copies to "preserve literature" as he put it, but i had written a fanfic in mine about miku clones taking over the world.

after all our copies were collected, i ran down the ice stairs to the bunker with the town behind me copying my every move. suddenly, one of the stairs broke and i nearly fell off. i grabbed onto it and only had a few seconds to pull myself up before the crowd stampeded over me. luckily, i managed to do it and leaped inside the bunker, but my schoolbag fell off and caught in the door (it was an automatic door.) the room was filling up with people quickly, so i asked my friend to save my space on the floor. they didn't say anything but i got my bag anyway. it was lucky that i got my bag then because the village elder was vaporising the ones that got stuck in the door.

after i got my bag, the village elder turned off the door and went back up the stairs,since the door could only be closed from the outside. i could see the gardening equipment store through the ice ceiling outside the bunker.

after a few months, we had built a whole underground civilisation. it was basically like a huge shopping centre. we had a candy factory, a book store and probably more things as well but i couldn't remember. i went back to my underground block of flats, and as i was going up the stairs i met anthropomorphic princess celestia. she said she was my aunt, and that i had a great destiny. i didn't believe her, so she showed me a vision.

in the vision a large dark purple dragon was flying over london at night. (at least i think it was london since there was a river) the dragon landed on an array of solar panels made of solid gold, next to the giant sandpit. this got the attention of the police, and they sent some helicopters up to deal with it. but the dragon just took out an encyclopedia and started reading. "frogs," it said.

the vision switched to my mom and dad talking with some other sailors at the galway docks. the sailors said that the irish built an artificial river horizontally across the country, and they could even change the speed of the currents in certain places individually. my parents looked impressed and said that ireland has some of the greatest engineers in the world.

once again, the vision changed, but this time it was of anthropomorphic princess celestia trying and failing to climb a tree. i was getting pretty annoyed, so i tried to stop the vision. surprisingly, it did.

anthropomorphic celestia said that i was a descendant of the dragon and the irish engineers, and that i should look in the mirror for proof. there wasn't a mirror nearby, so i looked out the dark window. i could see a silver dragon scale below my left eye that was shaped like a teardrop and a pimple where my nose and forehead met.

"i'm not a descendant of the dragon," i said. "my mom always told me i had that scale because i was born under a quarter moon." but anthropomorphic celestia didn't believe me. she said that every great irish engineer had a pimple on their forehead. exhausted, i went straight to bed and had an early night.

the next day, i went to the bookstore with my mom. i didn't have any money, so i grabbed two reference books off the shelf labelled "free books" and started reading...or at least i tried to. i couldn't concentrate on any of it.

but soon i had bigger problems than not being able to concentrate. a crowd started running through the middle of the shopping centre. "the monster is coming!" they screamed. i wondered how the monster could have gotten in. "we've been here for a year," i thought, "and only now the monster finds us?" i rolled under a bench and closed my eyes. i could feel a burst of heat pass over me.

when i opened my eyes, the bunker was completely destroyed. i looked around. the landscape was covered in ash and rubble, with animal bones and prickly bushes everywhere. i stood up and spotted a scientist inspecting the skeleton of a mutated rat. "charles darwin?" i thought.

there were only two other survivors apart from me: a girl around my own age and her seven-year-old sister. the scientist came over to us and started asking us questions about what it was like and how we survived the monster attack. he said that according to his studies, we were supposed to have pure black skin and hair with white spots, like the night sky, from living underground.

"Kys," said the seven-year-old, and we all started cringe-laughing. She gave me her lego piece as a sign of friendship, and we, her sister and the scientist walked on the highway into the sunset.

The End

[lunar-hikari]

engage is driving me insane so i've been rewriting veyle in my head to cope lol this is super disjointed and incomplete but whatever i want it out of my head

concept: instead of the split personality/brainwashing/secret third thing that she's got going on to absolve her of all guilt in the actual game they actually use that initial explanation that EVeyle is her fell impulses brought to the forefront. So Veyle is fully willingly working with Sombron and co. but also is fully aware that he killed her favorite sibling bc he really does not seem to be trying to hide that even slightly

Veyle, having adored said sibling, naturally is not cool with this but also recognizes that he can one round her is way out of her league at the moment and so is basically biding her time for an opportunity to murder him dead. but also! those fell impulses. she is ambivalent AT BEST to humanity and much more likely to be instinctively actively hostile, which is why she doesn't particularly mind all the murder while she's waiting

so for her first meeting with Alear instead of her blasting a Corrupted and saving Alear's ass then being all uwu or whatever she spots a person who doesn't trip her 'not dragon kill kill kill' instincts and sees that they're about to get bodied so she yells "HEY" at the corrupted to get them to stop bc they listen to her, but Alear interprets it as a warning and bisects the Corrupted. Veyle is intrigued and decides to try chatting with this person

Instead of Veyle saying that she's looking for her sibling, she comments that Alear reminds her of her sibling. Alear offers to protect Veyle/escort her to said sibling, assuming that she's helpless since she didn't obscurite-blast anything in front of them in this version of events. Veyle comments smth along the lines of how Alear should be more careful or they'll wind up dead like her sibling, bitterly noting while pulling out the dragonstone that even the promise that as long as this stone stayed intact they'd still be alive was a lie. She then wanders off or smth idk

she'd run into Alear occasionally over the course of the story (I imagine there would be a longer lead up to her big Reveal, or at least more meetings with her in the lead up) with the intent of seeing if Alear is strong enough to kill Sombron but would pointedly never stick around to meet anyone else (bc gross, humans)

A later meeting could have Alear try to bond by asking what about them reminds Veyle of her sibling, only for her to be unable to answer because she can't remember much "before waking up alone" - establishing that dragons losing memories after long slumbers is like. a Thing instead of just a contrivance for Alear, and also explaining how she doesn't fully recognize Alear on sight lol

she'd still have a big boss fight, but instead of trying to get the Kaga Helmet off of her Alear would be trying to convince her to stop fighting for Sombron bc he clearly does not give a fuck about her (idk there'd be some previous fight where she didn't have enough support or smth as evidence) and asking if this is really what her sibling would want, making Veyle waver and consider swapping sides

Then Sombron swoops in to blast everyone as per canon and Alear mcfucking dies to protect Veyle, at which point the dragonstone that she still carries around breaks and she realizes Alear was her sibling all along (in this version that tidbit wouldn't have been dropped in a random-ass conversation she isn't a part of early lol) and openly goes against Sombron

Recruited Veyle's supports/character development would be built around her learning to not carry through with her knee-jerk hatred reaction to any-and-all non-dragon people and learning to reach out to others, since she largely shut out everyone after losing Alear the first time out of self-preservation (and to not be caught scheming)

smth smth whatever happens in endgame except better written idk I haven't gotten there yet lmao

idk I just think they could've done a lot more with the series first playable definitively fell dragon character (sorry Robin and potential kids, you don't count for this) but instead they went with uwu cutesy character who has done nothing wrong ever no not even those things you literally saw her do

[kaesaaurelia]

it certainly is a big boat!

For @whumptober day 5: Every Whumpee's Needs, using the prompts “blood loss" and "running out of air."

Aziraphale's lax wing-grooming habits have trapped him in a flood, and now his wings are waterlogged and absolutely useless. He probably should've stowed away on that ark.

Content warning for major disaster (flooding) and mention of child death (alluding to the A/C conversation during the flood scene in canon).

Aziraphale had thought he was fine; had thought he could just, well, leave. He hadn't flown in a long while, and he'd sort of been looking forward to it. (Really, he'd been looking forward to getting out of this place. He'd spent several uncomfortable hours listening to people heckling Noah -- people who were going to drown, so he couldn't think ill of them, particularly -- and he'd tried distracting himself from them, by walking around and around the ark. He noted the measurements down, just in case anybody might need them later. He said, "Well, it certainly is a big boat!" appreciatively, to nobody in particular.

Occasionally, he made some quick, miraculous changes to animals Shem or Ham had failed to sex properly. He'd tried not to think about what Crawly had said. The children would all go to Heaven, anyway, so it was probably fine. He ought to be happy for them, even. (He could not feel happy for them, but he knew his misery was probably a personal failing, and he tried not to think about it.)

When the rain began in earnest and the hecklers all went home where they thought they would stay dry, he was terribly relieved to be able to open his wings and take off.

But he was only in the air for a moment or two before his wings became heavy and useless, and he careened back to earth, landing messily in a patch of crops that would be ruined anyway when the water rose. He stood, healed his bruises, despaired of doing anything to get the mud stains out of his clothes, and miracled his wings dry. Then he set off once more, into the air.

But the same thing happened again -- a minute or two of unpleasantly damp flight, and then he crashed into the earth.

Aziraphale hadn't really been keeping his wings up, and he began to panic a bit. He tried to remember the last time he'd really gone over them, and the latest he could recall was the time he'd visited a very ostentatious coworker of his, who'd had a temple built to himself and touted the benefits of wing massages performed by muscular, scantily-clad priests using holy anointing oil. It had certainly felt… nice, but Aziraphale blushed even now to think of it, and there'd been a handful of memos from on high reminding him to please not allow himself to be worshipped as a false idol, so he thought he was probably right not to go and do that sort of thing more than once.

He wondered if he had time, now, to find a village and buy some olive oil or something, and just quickly go over his wings and flee. But he'd flown far enough away that he couldn't see any nearby settlements, and it was really coming down now. So he started back the way he'd come, splashing as he walked, and he didn't make it to a village until the water was up to his ankles.

People were busily moving all their grains and other meant-to-be-dry goods up to the tops of their roofs and spreading layers of close-woven cloth over them to preserve them from the rain and flooding. Aziraphale tried to explain what he needed but nobody listened to him, so he splashed onward. There was a larger settlement nearby, but the further he walked the closer he got to a river, and the deeper the water got, and the less likely he was to find what he needed.

The water was waist-deep before he got to the larger town, and by then people were clustered on their own roofs, sacrificing their dry goods to save themselves, only some of the little houses were being swept away by the flooding and the place was in chaos. Everyone was shouting at each other and arguing, jostling for higher positions, and Aziraphale could see that this was not going to work for him. He didn't really want to stick around and watch all these poor people drown, so he clambered up to the top of the tallest roof, trying not to step on anybody or elbow them out of the way too hard. Then he miracled his wings dry and took off back towards higher ground. Surely he could wait the flooding out on top of a mountain or something. It would be miserable and uncomfortable, but he could do it.

He knew by now about how long he would have in the air, and he hopscotched between human settlements large enough to have two-story buildings for a while, and he had thought he was making good (if exhausting) progress into the foothills of the nearest mountain range and out of the waist-deep water, but then the rain became worse -- painful sheets of water poured down upon his head and his wings -- and as he realized he was getting less and less time aloft, he began to panic.

He didn't know this area all that well, so he wasn't aiming for a particular settlement when he took off on what would be his last real flight, hoping to soar from a rocky cliff across the valley to the mountain beyond. But he'd badly overestimated how long he would have, and so when he landed, he went crashing to the ground, and the boulder he landed on broke his head more than his fall.

When he came back to consciousness, it was to painful water in his lungs, and he scrambled as high as he could onto the rock he'd landed on. He didn't technically need to breathe, but it was nice to have the option, and very uncomfortable not to, and between that and the fall, he was feeling very woozy. He wiped the water from his forehead so it didn't drip into his eyes, and realized his hand had come away red. This was really getting out of hand, he thought; they ought to have given him some guidance as to how he was supposed to get out of this mess. Perhaps he should have stowed away on that boat of Noah's, but he didn't particularly want to answer any awkward questions about why he was there, and it seemed like it would be loud and smelly and cramped on board. Still, he would rather be cramped than blinded by this water and losing blood quickly.

Steeling himself up to fly again, he took his wings out, miracled them dry, and found that the rain was coming so quickly that his miracle had made no difference.

He watched as the water lapped at his ankles, overtaking the top of his perch, and he dreaded what the next forty days and nights would bring.

[continued on day 9]

[agentofmischief]

I finally built all of Newcrest

I know. Everyone’s done it to some degree at some point. But I’m proud because not only did I build it all, but I gave it all lore and stuff. For the first time, I built Newcrest and it feels fleshed out. So, here it is:

I did leave 3 lots, as every neighborhood does. One in each ... burough? The word escapes me right now. I’m going to take you through each of them. (Btw, all builds and families are on the Gallery. And everything should be base game. I’m going to try and see if I can upload the save file somewhere, so you all can use it.)

So, the first neighborhood is the one at the top with the flag. It’s known for the town’s public pool, and inexpensive living.

First Starter

1bed 1bath Nice kitchen and living space, and a nice garden spot out back.

Second Starter

This one is a little bigger. 3bed 1bath. So great for a new family.

Redd Family Home

This is the last house built in that neighborhood. This is where the Redd family lives.

The Redd Family leads a very hectic life. Amelia likes to believe she’s the perfect mom, but after dressing her now teen daughters (who couldn’t be any more different) alike all their lives, her girls now have their own opinions. Anaelise is the cheerful popular girl, while Anabell loves the color black and dark, moody writing. Their father, Harold is frequently at work, because it is not cheap raising two teenage daughters who refuse to share anything ever again!

Newcrest Community Pool

It’s got everything you need at the pool besides water to swim in. Music, a bar, a kitchenette/snack area, showers and changing rooms.

The next neighborhood, I’ve called Old Town District. This is where the older structures of Newcrest stand. It doesn’t mean new things can’t be built.

Shooting Star Library

This is a huge library with computer halls, study rooms, chess tournament spaces, a playground with sandbox in back. It also has a life-size chess set out front.

Fisher Family Home

This old brick house is the home of the Fisher family. A happy, but busy family trying to raise their three children in the quiet suburbs, away from San Myshuno. 

Fisher Family

The Fisher family moved out to Newcrest before their oldest child could remember anything. They bought this house for cheap, only to find it needed refurbishment to Old Town’s historic standards. While keeping abreast with work, fixing up the old house, and juggling family life, the Fisher’s are finding the quiet countryside isn’t always quiet. But now that the house is finally how they want it, their hoping everything else will fall in line.

The Old Green Victorian - Rutledge Family Home

This house is currently the oldest house in Newcrest, after the other Victorian house next door burned down seven years ago. And the Hamiltons who owned it left to live in the newest part of town. The Rutledges have taken care of this manor since the town was built, and tries to keep the historic visage of Old Town Newcrest preserved.

Rutledge Family

When Sylvia Rutledge died, she left a widower, Marcus, and their three children: Mara, Mila, and Melisa. Now Marcus has moved back in with his parents in their old house. It’s never easy taking what feels like a step backwards.

Old Town Chapel

This is the original chapel of Newcrest, and has remained standing since its founding. This is where many of the original Newcrest families are buried, and is also one of the most popular and picturesque wedding venues in Newcrest.

Now for the final neighborhood, the Riverview Parks.

The Joiner-Groves Home

This colorful modern home belongs to the Joiner-Groves family, headed by two well-known authors. Roy Joiner, who writes self-help books. And Yvonne Joiner-Groves, who writes Sci-Fi novels.

Roy and Yvonne met in the writing room at work. What started out as a rivalry blossomed into a great marriage with two daughters, Ava and Addie. Ava has been going through a bit of a rebellion recently because the family just moved to Newcrest. Shortly after Ava started at her new high school, the school began looking for families willing to take in exchange students from their sister school in India. Meet Krishna and Parvati Arya, another pair of sisters, yet one’s bookish and the other is a socialite. It’s going to be an interesting year.

The Hamilton Estate

The Hamiltons have always been a well-established family in Newcrest. But after the fire of the Old Town House next to the chapel, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton decided to build this Modern Marvel in a new area of town, and live hear with their 4 sons.

These brothers are looking to strike out on their own away from their parents’ wealth. The oldest, Andrew, wants to find the right girl and settle down. The second, Isaac, wants to raise the perfect family. The third, Philip, wants to own the biggest house in the neighborhood all by himself. And the last, Richard, wants to learn how to do everything. Will they be able to realize their goals?

Thanks to the Hamilton’s funding, the stretch of land by the river was made into a national park.

Newcrest National Park

This park has everything. Cabins to rent. An outlook to look at the stars. Playgrounds, pavilions, lakes, and even a garden where people sometimes get married.

And just off the park’s bounds is Flats Bar and Club 319.

If you’re looking for nightlife in Newcrest, this is where it is. Flats Bar is a relaxed sports bar that features occasional talent. Next door is Club 319, which is usually booming with music, but has several private karaoke rooms, conversation rooms, three separate bars (one on each floor) including the rooftop bar, which has a jacuzzi for those interested.