#Vector Spectacle

[maxknightley]

was reading an old unfinished touhou doujin earlier and my main takeaway was "wow this is way hornier than I remembered." but also it has this panel which delights me every time I look at it

[gashicalmy]

Index - aka more animals

He´s my silly looking bear!

2 version of colors because i liked more the purple one, but in the zoo they were like "bears ain't purple, they're black" and then they had a solid black spot when printed :v

They didn't understood the pourpose and liberties of using an illustration instead of a photo.

They didn't understood the pourpose and liberties of using an illustration at the side of the photo.

Also, i liked the combination of the shape of shadows and the lines of color transition to make him look kind of fluffy and soft.

[ardentperfidy]

.

[yosefinasays]

In Defense Of Electronic Civil Disobedience

There has been some criticism lodged against us. Claims have been made that our activism is merely engagement. That our movement is sort of sofa ersatz activism. However, in order for this argument to hold true, you must make a central conceit. That the concrete world is somehow more real than the digital. Members of The Kollectiv do not view the net from this narrow scope. We see the digital realm as an extension of the more abstract plain of technology. We see the space, though incorporeal on a macroscale, to be very real.

The average user in 2024, spent a 1/5th of their life online. Whether engaging with shopping, posting, or just browsing the net this is a significant portion of time. Enough time is spent on the net that a culture has emerged around various social media sites. Artifacts are made that can only be interacted with in the digital space. And people can become totally enmeshed in a digital world if they wish. Interacting with the greater world almost exclusively in the digital realm. 

An extreme example would be an individual who works as a digital nomad, does all their shopping online, and interacts with others exclusively through social media. Although this individual would be seen to be living a fringe net lifestyle, this way of life is very possible. To argue that activism should not be done through the medium of technology is only alienating. It does not serve one's greater purpose. 64% of the world is online. That is 5.52 billion souls. 

Though The Kollectiv adopts a view of the internet separate from those informed by commodity and corporate interest, the economic activity on the net can’t be ignored. Imagine the disruptive potential of a boycott. The sheer volume of activity allows the activist to make lasting change on the world. We can look back to The Gamestop Short Squeeze. A grassroots political action originating in Wallstreets Bets. To go further back in history we can make reference to the initiatives of net.artists. Groups such as the VNS created works like the “A Cyberfeminist Manifesto for the 21st Century”. Work like this advanced both feminism and digital art. To write off the digital landscape as a lesser landscape of reform, activism, and engaging art, one would have to ignore the efficacy of these movements. 

Going further into the political landscape we can look at the example set by Net Strike. A software that was deployed by activists in the 90’s for digital sit ins. It essentially was a tool for groups to orchestrate DDOS attacks. A vector of protest, that has unfortunately been taken from the general public and is now deployed heinously by state actors to suppress movements. This reversal if anything shows that net activism should be more staunchly defended. The internet is now often the first point of contact individuals have with any movement. And it is also the center of global operations. Are rights on the net should be defended, advanced, and clearly defined. The right to protest should not just extend to the physical space, when the digital space is becoming such a driving factor in our lives.

The Kollectiv’s digital graffiti campaign and its current food disparity initiative is only the beginning. We plan on continuing to mobilize people to be the change they want to see in the world. By establishing our ad hoc hyperlink structure: essentially a website built within the framework of another. We will be raising awareness for our cause. Making people think about the effects of food disparity, while considering new ways to experience the internet. Are either of these aims ignoble? I do not believe so.

We are continuing in the footsteps of activists such as The Electro Hippies. Advancing methods of protest into the 21st Century. We are also continuing the efforts of situationist thinkers. Now that globalism taken home and the internet has pushed commodity and spectacle into our home. We must attack it at its source if liberty is to continue to flourish and grow for future generations.

 To ignore the possibilities of change now is rob the children of the future of their potential fruit. That is why I continue to call for the development of net.art and methods of activism on the web. Not only to raise awareness for causes affecting us here and now, but to change the landscape of the internet for the people of the future.

[the-clay-quarters]

Woe, 1000 blorbo refs upon ye

I've been making these reference boards for all the ocs I've been drawing! Everyone I've shown them to so far thought they were neat, so I figured I'd share them here too :3 They're fun to make and also really useful for me personally, otherwise I'd just keep swapping between tumblr tabs </3

I put these together in pureref, which is made for stuff like this and works wonderfully imo! It does all the resizing and aligning easily, so the only "work" is grabbing the images and rearranging them. It also saves the actual files as vector images I think, so you can zoom in super close in the program and not lose any details. ..okay I'm done, # not sponsored

Anyway, if anyone's interested, I have both the pngs and the pureref files in a gdrive! I already have most of my pc backing up there, so I might as well share this folder :3 Since this is literally a live backup of my main folder, it'll also update whenever I change these or make new ones yippee

Pings for everyone under the cut again!

@thedeafprophet 's Aurora

@gmalaart 's Cavendish

@capn-twitchery 's Grace

@waterlogged-detective 's Doe

@viric-dreams 's Ockham

@house-of-mirrors 's Orsino

@violant-apologia 's Apologist

@the-masterless-press 's Mathilde

@anomaly-beans 's Merry

@msbeanfl 's Ms Bean

@lord-emerson 's Oswald

@pacmanthepeach 's Raz

@peliginspeaks 's Hallowrove

@cosmogone-spectacles 's Oversol

@zeebreezin 's Shaw

@neathyingenue 's Silvia

@dualclock 's Scrimshander

[himejoshikomaeda]

IF YOU HAVE ONLY VERY BRIEFLY ENGAGED WITH TOUHOU BEFORE:

read the touhou wiki synopsis of double dealing character, then read the touhou wiki page for seija kijin, then read the touhou wiki page for shinmyoumaru sukuna, then look up and read VECTOR SPECTACLE on dynastyscans.

this will help you read VECTOR SPECTACLE.

[toskarintoast]

Hello I must apologise for the entirely untoasty ask but I have a touhou question: What order did you consume touhou media? I found some guide on reddit that recommends I finish 6 and 7 first then move on to a manga but I wanna know how people who actually know touhou have done it

in my opinion. it depends. on what you want to get out of touhou. at least at first. if you want to play. the mainline games. (they are fun.) then i would recommend. starting with 8. because. it is very forgiving. and. introduces you to many characters well-loved by fans. 6 is pretty antiquated. and 7 is honestly not much better. in that regard. they are still good games. but. 8 doesn’t feel quite as aged.

however. there are a great many ways. to get into touhou. that do not involve playing 20 year old shoot em ups. if that is not something you want to do. for example. while it is good. to have a basic understanding. of what happens in at least the first few games. you could. literally just start reading any of the manga. if you wanted to. the problem is that you really can start anywhere. that’s why everyone has a different answer. personally. i played the games in an arbitrary order. not paying attention to release date. i just played whichever one i wanted to play next. that was the most fun for me. i think my 1cc order ended up being. 8, 10, 7, 13, 16, 6, 18, 15, 17, 14, 12, 19, 11, 4. so far. i plan to play 5 next.

however. if you would like to know. what i consider to be. one of the best introductions to gensokyo. and its residents. i would recommend mystia's izakaya. it is incredibly effective at introducing you. to a large number of characters. locations. and ideologies. over the course of the game. especially if you shell out the $5 or whatever it is. to buy all of the DLCs. also. it's fun. and addictive. there are other fan games. that can serve as decent introductions. depending on the kind of games you like. touhou puppet dance performance shard of dreams extended. is pretty good. if you like pokemon gen 3. and. i know that i will earn the scorn. of certain fans. by saying this. but touhou lostword is really good actually. it is not at all difficult to see all of the (genuinely very good) story and (cute seasonal) events. without spending any money at all. in fact. when it first got released. i was worried that it would shut down. because i thought. there is no way they are going to get anyone to pay money for this. because there aren't any of the obnoxious arbitrary difficulty spikes. that you find in other gacha games. and. getting all of my favorite characters. was honestly really easy. though. if you are prone to spending money on gachas. for no reason. then you should probably stay away from it.

you could even just. go to youtube. and watch every IOSYS flash. with english subtitles. and you'd be a touhou fan by the end of it. there's really no wrong way. to get into it. hell. just go read some yuri doujins. check out vector spectacle. it whips.

hope i could help. remember to toast bread and then eat it. ^_^

[sunelloise]

Something that bothered me back when I was a kid that still bothers me as an adult is the disproportionate amount of spectacle given to the demigods who don’t have the flashy, explosive powers.

Percy, Thalia, Jason, Leo, Hazel, and Nico all have massive, elemental abilities that need no extra song and dance. And because Percy is an unreliable narrator who self-deprecates, he constantly undersells his abilities like his mini hurricane in the battle of Manhattan. Percy spends little time on just how amazing this is, because he’s busy and stressed, but you can tell from Grover’s reaction that this is something unprecedented and he’s amazing. You also get it way later in SON when Hazel says the same about him casually collapsing a glacier and taking a whole army with him into the arctic ocean.

The quieter, softer powers, like Annabeth’s intelligence and Piper’s charmspeak have this weird sense of ‘but they’re cool too! If I just praise them enough you’ll see it!’ and they are cool powers, the extra gratis just makes it feel like a handout, like the author is compensating for powers he knows are lackluster in comparison and trying to beat it without letting them stand on their own to show that they’re cool.

Specifically with Annabeth, she’s supposed to be ‘the smart one’ but she can’t hoard the intelligence without making Percy deliberately incompetent and stupid. He might not be booksmart, but he’s fantastic at improv and ingenuity. Annabeth had her command tent in the battle of Manhattan, but because we’re in Percy’s POV and Percy isn’t with her to show exactly how much she’s helping, we’re just told “Annabeth and her siblings have it under control,” which is unfortunate.

She also comes off more as a know-it-all and exposition vector sometimes, much like Hermione—the author needs a character who can answer all the protagonist’s and audience’s questions about the world, so make them a cocky know-it-all so at least the exposition dump is in-character. She absolutely has her moments! Her plan in the water park tunnel of love (in the book), her capture the flag strategies, etc. And Percy screws up plenty.

The way they’re presented can just feel like we’re being told that Annabeth’s intelligence and wisdom is an absolute necessity, when Percy solves his own problems by being clever constantly. He doesn’t need her wisdom as much as he thinks he does, or as much as the books want you to think he does.

To be clear: I don’t hate Annabeth as a character, she was not given very much to work with especially in terms of powers.

Piper is the same way. Charmspeak is super cool, but making it the power that saves the world from Gaea by putting her back to sleep felt like throwing a softball to justify her place on the team. Mind control avoided Gaea waking up and wreaking havoc, but you build up five whole books to tell the audience that the way they win is by mind-controlling a primordial goddess to continue her nap?

Piper’s powers also seem to exist more as a reaction to conflicts that only exist so she can be useful, given situations that can only be solved with charmspeak. Where Percy was stuck in situations constantly where he needed to rely on his wits more than his powers, or just brute force when there was no water around him. He was also constantly pushing the limits of those powers and getting creative with them, where charmspeak and demigodly intelligence are more straightforward and limited.

Fantastic character, she just didn’t have very much to show how fantastic she could be. Both she and Annabeth fought with knives and daggers. There’s no reason they couldn’t also pick up a sword like the boys and make up for their lack of elemental abilities with incredible swordplay skill. I love characters who fight with knives, I just can’t help but notice that the only girls with swords are daughters of battle-forward gods, like Clarisse and Reyna, and the only boys with knives are snively connivers like Octavian. Not every “smart clever brainiac” character has to be a lesser combatant.

There is nothing wrong with female characters who show their strength beyond physicality, but that’s not what this is. It’s the same old trope of “Swords are for the boys, knives are for the girls”.

Give Nico a stygian dagger. He would have been so good and so sneaky combining his shadow travel with a dagger. Heck, let him dual-wield and surprise all his opponents by whipping out a little black dagger when they're only expecting a sword.

[alterchaos]

WHAT WE'RE MADE OF

Above the thunderous skies of Mobius, a trio of heroes battle for the fate of the world. Hearts are opened as a brilliant light shines through the persisting darkness, everyone crying out as one...

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: A MACHINE'S PURPOSE

NEXT CHAPTER: SCRAP METAL

“Ready, team!?”

“Ready, Sonic!”

The youngest of the brothers thrusted the biplane higher into the stormy clouds above Mobius.

“Here we goooo!!!”

“HOW. DARE. YOU., ALL. OF. YOU. I. AM. THE. OVERLORD. OF. THIS. WORLD. IT. BELONGS. TO. MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!”

The oil-soaked beast roared, his shattered right arm dangling limp at his side.

“Heh! We’ll see about that, Metal!”

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH.!!!!!!!!!!”

Neo began to charge another laser, firing at the trio of brothers as Tails maneuvered them out of the way. With each dodge, the metallic monster grew more agitated, firing more erratically in a desperate attempt to hit.

And yet, through all the smoke and fire, the three of them continued to stand in sync, smiling at their assured victory.

“BASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDSSSSS.!!!!!!!!”

Metal lunged, lighting reflecting off his armored frame as he swiped with his claws.

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!!!!

“OH NO!!! WE’VE BEEN HIT!!!”

“Hup!” Sonic leapt off the biplane’s broken wing, “TAILS!!! IT’S TIME TO USE OUR SECRET WEAPON!!!”

“ROGER!!!” 

The fox hit a release switch before steadying the plane. Sonic simultaneously pulled out the green emerald, Knuckles throwing him the blue emerald as the remaining five circled around him. He closed his eyes, opening his heart to their power.

BA-BUMP!!!

But…that power…

BA-BUMP!!!

What if…

BA-BUMP!!!

What if he couldn’t control it?

BA-BUMP!!!

What if he hurt someone els-

“Sonic! Focus!”

“It’s alright, Sonic! We’ve got your back!”

“...”

That’s right…

shweeeeee

His friends…

clap!

He wasn’t alone this time.

BOOOOM!!!

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Huh? What’s that?”

The Mobians of South Island looked up into the tumultuous sky, their eyes gleaming as they fell upon a single golden light fighting back against the darkness.

“It’s Sonic!”

“Sonic will save us!”

“Yeah!”

“Go, Sonic! Go!”

“Take Metal down!”

Wave upon wave of cheers rang out from the rolling green hills as everyone’s hearts cried out as one, hope filling the world shroud in black.

Sonic would save them.

They had no doubt.

Vector smiled with pride, the girl in his lap still fast asleep though now bandaged with care, “Good job, kid. I knew you had it in you.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

clang!

clang!

BAM!

“Euugh…”

The battered man pulled himself from the wreckage of South Island’s only prison, dusting himself off before grabbing his cracked spectacles near his boot.

“Hmmm…”

He adjusted the glasses, taking in the sight of the golden star above.

“Well, Metal? I hope you’re ready for a proper challenge.”

He smiled.

“Time to show the world what you’re made of…”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sonic opened his eyes, his fiery irises locking onto the infrared lenses of the beast before him.

“GRRRRRRR.!!!! YOU. THINK. YOU’RE. BETTER. THAN. ME. THAT. YOU’RE. SPECIAL. DON’T. MAKE. ME. LAUGH.!!!!”

Neo closed the flaps over his optical lenses.

…

…

“GNH-!!?”

The golden hedgehog lurched forward, grabbing his chest as he struggled against some invisible force.

“SONIC!!!”

“SONIC WHAT’S-!!!?”

He continued to struggle, “I-IT’S…IT’S METAL!!! H-HE…HE’S TRYING TO REACH INSIDE OF ME AND-!!!”

The golden hue began to flicker.

Tails jolted, “W-WHAT!!?” He watched as the metallic beast’s armor began to flicker as well, “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!!! HE’S-!!!”

Knuckles gritted his fangs, “HE’S TRYING TO DRAIN HIS ENERGY!!!” With that, he leapt off the opposite wing of the struggling plane towards his brother.

“KNUCKLES, WHAT ARE YOU-!!?”

“WE CAN’T LET HIM HAVE THE EMERALDS!!!” Knuckles grabbed Sonic’s shoulder, opening his heart as well to try and draw the will of the emeralds to him, “KEEP FIGHTING, SONIC!!!”

“I-I…I’M…T-TRYING…”

Though it was no use…

Sonic’s heart…

It simply held too much doubt.

In that moment, Neo’s purpose for fighting…

It was stronger…

More secure…

More powerful…

…able to overcome the purpose of any hero.

shweeeeeee

SHOOOOM!!!

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

Sonic reached out as the emeralds shot out from his body and into Metal.

shing!

BOOOOOM!!!!

“GRAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA.!!!!! I. AM. UNSTOPPABLE.!!!!!!!!!”

The metallic beast glowed golden as the blue hedgehog fell.

SHOOOOM!!!!

snatch!

Though…not for long…

“Huh?”

Sonic looked up, taking in the figure floating above.

“K-KNUCKLES!!?”

The echidna in question, now glowing with the light of the Master Emerald, smiled confidently at his brother, his amethyst eyes now sparkling with golden flecks as they once had in his great battle against Zelkova. 

“I’ve got you, little brother!”

Tails flew the unsteady aircraft closer, mouth agape in a mixture of shock and joy, “KNUCKLES HOW DID YOU-!!?”

The echidna beamed with pride, “Heh. You guys underestimate me too much. Just before Metal ripped the emeralds free, I took the chance to call upon the Master Emerald’s power from the Special Zone.” He looked back at the glowing, golden robot with intense determination, “Of course…I still won’t be powerful enough to take him down alone. I’ll need you two for backup.”

Tails’s eyes widened, “U-Us? But what can WE do with a half-broken Tornad-!!?”

FYOOOOM!!!

“AH-!!!”

SHAZAP!

BOOOOOOM!!!

Tails slowly let go of his eldest brother, spinning his tails to remain in the air as he quelled his rapidly beating heart. He looked back just in time to witness his precious biplane explode in a blaze of glory, barely able to register the sudden super-powered laser before it hit.

That was…WAY too close…

“FOOLS. …”

The three brothers turned, taking in the colossal threat before them.

“WHAT. CHANCE. COULD. YOU. POSSIBLY. HOLD. AGAINST. ME., AGAINST. MY. BOND.? EGGMAN. IS. MY. FATHER. I. AM. BOUND. TO. HIM. BY. HIS. BLOOD., HIS. SWEAT., HIS. TEARS. I AM. HIS. FINEST. CREATION. HE. TOLD. ME. SO. WE. ARE. TRUE. FAMILY. UNLIKE. YOU. SO. TELL. ME. …”

Metal prepared another laser.

“WHAT VALUE DOES A BOND LIKE YOURS TRULY HOOOOOOOOOLD.!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Knuckles grinned, “Wouldn’t you like to know…” He looked down at his younger brother, “Ready, Sonic?”

“...” The hedgehog in question stared at his older brother with wide eyes.

Such power…

Could he…

Could he really…?

“Sonic…”

He thought of her, the girl with the golden hair.

“I was never afraid of you.”

He remembered her words.

“I just wish you would stop blaming yourself for what happened with the fake emeralds…”

Her voice…

“YOU MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!”

Her spirit…

“I don’t hate you. I’m sorry I was so mean.”

Her light…

“Until the end…”

That’s right…

Eve…

If she could forgive him like that…

Then…

Maybe…

It was alright…to forgive himself too…

To open his heart to compassion…

Not in spite of who he was…

But because of who he was…

…

That’s right.

He was Sonic.

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!

shing!

BOOOOOM!!!

Sonic opened his eyes, a twinkling light catching in his rainbow irises. A similar light danced off of his figure, similar to that of his older brother.

“...”

He turned towards him, stunned into silence.

Knuckles smiled.

“I always knew you had that light in you.”

“...sniff…hic…”

The prismatic hedgehog brought his hands to his face as he broke down into tears. He tried wiping at his eyes though it was no use. He simply couldn’t stop them.

Even after what he did…

His heart…

He was still a good person…

Someone truly worthy of the light of chaos…

“...”

Tails smiled, happy to see his older brother find a sense of closure after his immeasurable suffering. 

“...”

His eyes widened as Knuckles then reached out a hand in his direction with a warm smile.

“Your turn, Tails.”

…

…

“Huh?”

The fox looked down at his hands.

No.

He…

He wasn’t a leader…

Someone who could fight to protect those he loved…

Cosmo…

He’d…failed her…

There was no way that such a power…

Such immeasurable strength…

Could ever be his…

…

…right?

“I-I…”

“We need you…”

Tails looked up at his eldest brother as he winked.

“...captain.”

“...”

Tails looked to Knuckles’s outstretched hand once more.

…

…

He hesitated.

…

…

But Cosmo…

…

She would want him to try…

…

To get back up even when it’s hard…

…

…

So he reached out…

…

He took his hand…

…

He closed his eyes…

…

He opened his heart…

…

…

…

shing!

BOOOOOOM!!!!

Tails gasped as he felt the light of the emerald fill his being, his golden fur going a stark white as colorful sparks of energy danced off of his figure.

“I…”

He smiled tearfully.

“I did it!”

The fox released a joyful laugh in his relief as the echidna floated over, rubbing his head affectionately. Sonic grabbed both of his brothers in excitement, the three of them embracing one another in a tight hug.

They’d never felt prouder of one another.

“GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.!!!!!! YOU WILL DIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.!!!!!!!!!”

Metal fired his laser.

FYOOOM!!!!

The brothers smiled at one another, raising their hands in unison to block.

BOOOOOM!!!!

The laser collided with them though it did not hit. It split into various smaller beams as the brothers held their ground, unshaken in the light pouring from their hearts.

“HOW.!? HOW. CAN. YOU. STAND. UP. TO. SUCH. DRIVE.!? SUCH. PURPOSE.!? I. HAD. IT. I. WANTED. IT. MORE. THAN. ANYONE.!!!!!!”

Sonic grinned, as he pointed a finger at the golden, metallic beast.

“Because…WE’RE TEAM HEROES!!!”

“GRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Metal charged in one final strike.

Sonic clenched his fist as he pulled it in tight, Tails and Knuckles disappearing to attack the beast from each side.

“NOW WE’LL SHOW YOU THE REAL SUPER POWER OF TEAMWORK!!!!!”

SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!SHING!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH.!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Metal screamed out as the trio of brothers pierced and slashed him at unprecedented speeds, over and over and over again until his armor shattered in an oily massacre. The emeralds dropped from his figure as he transformed back into his Neo form, wires sparking as he sputtered and twitched ever so slightly.

He watched in fear as the trio of brothers rejoined as one.

“N-N-bzzt-O-O-O. …S-STO-bzzrt-OP.!!!!!”

Team Heroes smiled in unison.

“THIS IS WHAT WE’RE MADE OF!!!!!!”

SHING!

KA-BOOOOOOM!!!!

And with that final strike, Metal was vanquished, the remains of his broken body falling to the ruins of South Island below as the sun shone through the darkness, giving all who witnessed the hope to carry on.

Sonic, Hero of Mobius, had saved the day once again.

CHAPTER END

[psychooomind]

The Art of Deception - 6

Severus Snape x reader

Summary: Sequel to Mixed Signals, part of Potions and other drugs series. Severus and Katya strengthen their relationship, based from 1994 to 1998.

This is a prequel to another of my Harry Potter fanfics, The New Founders.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11.

A multi-entry, slow-burn, colleagues to lovers, smut.

You can also read it at AO3 here.

If you liked it, reblog the chapter :)

Scotland - January 1, 1995 - The Capricorn Man

The staff lounge was unusually lively that evening. The remnants of the New Year’s feast still clung to the castle air—roast meats, spiced puddings, and the faintest trace of mulled wine. Severus Snape, as a rule, found such revelry tedious. The concept of celebrating the arbitrary shift from one year to the next was as pointless to him as believing a love potion could replace genuine affection. However, he had allowed himself to be lured here by Minerva, who had insisted that "for once in your miserable life, Severus, you might attempt to enjoy an evening in pleasant company."

Pleasant company, indeed.

Across the room, Sybill Trelawney was swaying precariously in her seat, a half-empty glass of sherry clasped in her bony fingers. Her enormous spectacles magnified her eyes to an unnerving degree, making her look even more owl-like than usual. She had taken it upon herself to act as the evening’s oracle, dispensing fortunes and astrological insights to anyone unfortunate enough to catch her gaze. 

Severus had made it nearly to the far side of the room, intending to pour himself a cup of tea—strong, black, and entirely free of any celebratory nonsense—when Minerva intercepted him, an unmistakable gleam in her eyes. Snape was just about to retire to his dungeons, but Minerva McGonagall arched an eyebrow and gestured pointedly toward the lounge. 

“Come, Severus,” she had said in that infuriatingly knowing tone of hers. “Surely you can spare an hour for a little socialization?”

And so he found himself here, in the dimly lit lounge, surrounded by a handful of his colleagues, watching with equal parts amusement and disdain as Sybill Trelawney swayed precariously in her chair, clearly drunk. 

“Ah, Severus,” she trilled, pushing her oversized spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “Such dark energy clings to you tonight. It is—” she paused, closing her eyes in a dramatic flourish, “—a night of omens, I fear.”

“Isn’t every night an omen in your eyes, Sybill?” He gave her a flat look

“Sit and let her be” McGonagall ordered, gesturing to the chair beside her. The worn velvet upholstery had seen better days, but it was at least positioned far enough from Trelawney to avoid immediate danger.

The staff had somehow procured a deck of enchanted playing cards, and a game of Wizard’s Poker was well underway. Flitwick was animatedly explaining a particularly complicated maneuver to a bemused Sprout, while Vector and Sinistra argued over the ethics of using Arithmancy in gambling. Minerva, however, was focused solely on Severus.

���I propose a wager…” she said, shuffling the cards with nimble fingers. “If I win this round, you answer a question of my choosing. If you win, well—let’s just say I’ll owe you a favour.”

“You assume I find your favours desirable.” Severus arched his brow.

“Oh, I think you’ll find this one rather intriguing.” Minerva smirked.

Intriguing or not, Severus knew better than to underestimate Minerva McGonagall in a game of strategy. He settled into his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the worn wood of the table. 

“Very well. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

The game progressed swiftly. Severus played with the same sharp precision he applied to brewing a particularly volatile potion—calculating, deliberate, and utterly ruthless. Minerva, however, was no amateur. By the time they reached the final hand, she was wearing the satisfied expression of a cat who knew the mouse was already trapped.

Halfway through the game, Trelawney leaned in conspiratorially, her breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. 

“Tell me, Severus,” she slurred, her large eyes magnified comically behind her lenses. “What’s your sign?”

“Sybill— don't distract me. ” Minerva let out a quiet chuckle, and Snape barely suppressed a groan.

“No, no, it’s important! The stars reveal all!” She waggled a long, ring-adorned finger at him. “Let me see… You were born in early January, were you not?”

“Regrettably.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ah-ha! A Capricorn! No wonder you are so dreadfully serious all the time,” she giggled. “A practical man, ambitious, hardworking—yet burdened by the past.”

“Fascinating.” he said dryly. “You’ve described every miserable sod over the age of thirty.”

“And you, my dear?” Undeterred, she turned to Minerva. 

“Libra.” Minerva answered, dealing another round. “And no, before you ask, I don’t require a reading.”

“Oh, but you see, it’s already written!” Sybill waved her hands as if conjuring fate from the air itself. “This year shall bring… an unexpected challenge.”

“So, another year of teaching, then.” Minerva exhaled heavily.

Trelawney moved on, going around the table, muttering star charts and planetary alignments with exaggerated flair. 

McGonagall, on the other hand, with a triumphant flick of her wand, her final card settled onto the table, sealing her victory. Severus exhaled through his nose, already regretting his decision.

“Now then…” Minerva said, leaning forward with a glint of satisfaction. “Tell me about this mysterious woman of yours, the one that with whom exchanges so many letters.”

Several heads turned at that, but none as eagerly as Trelawney’s. She gasped, clutching at her beads. 

“A woman?” she echoed, swaying slightly. “Oh, but the stars foretold this!”

“This is precisely why I avoid these gatherings.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, come now,” Minerva prodded. “Out with it.”

Severus considered his options. Denying the claim outright would only encourage more prying. Instead, he opted for deflection. 

“I fail to see why my personal affairs are of any interest to the staff.”

Trelawney, however, was already peering at him with unsettling intensity. 

“She's a Cancer woman” she murmured, her voice hushed with the weight of prophecy. “Yes… I see it clearly… The alignment of Mars and Venus… A woman born under the sign of Cancer, with the light of the moon in her eyes. She will bring forth your firstborn—”

“Merlin’s beard, someone take the whisky away from her.” Severus let out an incredulous bark of laughter. 

The table erupted into chuckles, though Minerva shot him a knowing look. He ignored it, focusing instead on his tea, willing the conversation to shift elsewhere. But as he sat back, his mind betrayed him.

A Cancer woman. 

It was absurd. He did not believe in Divination, let alone Sybill Trelawney’s drunken ramblings. And yet...

The date drifted unbidden into his thoughts.

July 4th.

Katya’s birthday.

He took a slow sip of his tea, schooling his expression into practiced indifference. It was, of course, merely a coincidence. Nothing more.

And yet, as the game resumed and the conversation moved on, the words lingered in his mind, refusing to be dismissed so easily.

The days trickled by, one blending seamlessly into the next, the cold January air settling into the castle's very bones. Snow draped over the towers and turrets of Hogwarts, muffling the sounds of students trudging from lesson to lesson. The lingering scent of holiday feasts had long since faded from the Great Hall, replaced now with the scent of old parchment and ink, the quiet hum of academic routine returning in full force. 

But this year, the air was thick with something more than just the usual post-holiday fatigue. The Triwizard Tournament loomed over the school like an ominous cloud, its presence marked by the arrival of foreign students around the corridors. Severus found their presence an irritation, a disruption to the order he preferred. Worse still was the meddling of Rita Skeeter, whose poison-laced quill had already caused its first casualty of the year—Hagrid, humiliated in print for his giant heritage. Severus had little patience for gossip, but even he felt a flare of irritation at the way the oaf had been so publicly shamed.

Snape found himself falling into his own rhythms as well—preparing potions lessons, patrolling the corridors, docking points from errant Gryffindors who dared test his patience. But there was something different in the way the days unfolded now, a subtle anticipation beneath the monotony. His thoughts wandered more often than he would have liked to a certain woman, to the moments stolen in dimly lit rooms, to the way her fingers traced lazy patterns against his skin after they had both been thoroughly spent.

Their rendezvous had settled into an unspoken routine. They would meet at The Three Broomsticks, order drinks they barely touched, retreat to the room above the tavern, and let instinct take over. Yet, the moments after—the quiet, the murmured conversations—were becoming as enticing as the act itself.

It was on such an evening, with the firelight casting flickering shadows across the walls, that Katya shifted against him, propped on one elbow, her expression unreadable.

“You should take a day off.” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair, which had fallen loose from its usual severe arrangement. 

“A ridiculous notion.” He snorted, eyes still closed.

“And yet, not an impossible one.” She hummed in amusement.

“Do you have a reason for this sudden concern about my schedule?” Snape cracked one eye open, meeting her blue gaze. 

“Your birthday is coming up.” A slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “And this time, I'm here, physically here, to celebrate with you”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He had actually forgotten about it. He never liked his birthday. Birthdays were for those who enjoyed attention, who had people eager to celebrate their existence. Severus Snape had never been one of those people until he met Kat, who always sended him gifts by owl, or in her position, an eagle. 

Katya seemed unfazed by his lack of response. She continued, her tone light but laced with intent.

 “Take the day off, Severus. Come to Mayfair. I might have a surprise for you.”

“I have responsibilities.” He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the pillow.

“You have one day.” she countered smoothly. “One day where you allow yourself something other than work, than duty.”

His dark eyes studied her, searching for a trap, for mockery, for anything other than the sincerity he found. It unsettled him.

“I don’t like surprises.” he said finally. 

“That’s because you’ve never let yourself enjoy them.” Katya smirked.

He scoffed but did not refute her. She traced a finger down his arm, her touch featherlight. “Come, Severus. Let me give you something that isn't an obligation or expectation. Just something for you.”

The idea of it—of leaving Hogwarts, of stepping out of the meticulously constructed barriers he had built—made his skin itch. But there was something in the way she looked at him, something in the offer itself, that made him hesitate.

He should say no.

Instead, he found himself saying, “Mayfair?”

Her smile widened, victorious. “Mayfair.”

As she pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, Severus closed his eyes, already wondering what, exactly, he had just agreed to.

The morning of January 9th arrived with an uncharacteristic stillness. For the first time in years—in two years, really—Severus Snape had taken a day off. The notion still sat uncomfortably in his mind, gnawing at the edges of his well-worn discipline, but the promise had been made. At precisely 10 AM, he stepped out of the shadows of an alleyway in Mayfair, the crack of apparition barely audible in the sleepy morning hum of London.

The air was brisk, sharp against his skin, but Severus barely noticed. His dark eyes immediately sought out Katya’s building, a familiar presence in an unfamiliar setting. He had no idea what she had planned—only that she had insisted upon this, and, inexplicably, he had agreed.

He exhaled slowly, adjusting the collar of his coat, and strode forward. Before he could reach the entrance, however, something caught his eye. Parked directly in front of the building was a gleaming red convertible—a Jaguar E-Type Series 1, an immaculate model from the 1960s.

Severus stopped short, his breath hitching.

Katya stepped out onto the pavement, watching him with a satisfied smirk. “You recognize it, don’t you?”

He did. He had written about it, once, years ago, in the ink-stained letters they had exchanged—letters that had long since been tucked away, forgotten by all but her, apparently. As a boy, before the weight of the world had fully settled onto his shoulders, he had dreamt of doing something foolish and reckless like manage to drive and feel the powerful engine of convertible Jaguar beneath him, just like in the movies. He had dreamt about the wind rushing past, the illusion of freedom, even if just for a moment.

“This…” His voice was quieter than he intended. “You rented this?”

“I did.” She leaned against the driver’s side door, tilting her head. “A little extravagant, I admit, but… you only turn thirty-five once.”

His lips parted slightly, but the words refused to form. He had expected nothing—had wanted nothing, truly. And yet, here it was. A relic of an old dream, given shape and form simply because she had remembered.

“Are you getting in,” Katya prompted, “or should I take a victory lap without you?”

Snape let out a slow exhale, shaking his head as he moved toward the car. “If you wreck this thing, I’m not responsible.”

She grinned as he slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool beneath him. The engine rumbled to life beneath Katya’s expert hands, and as they pulled away from the curb, she glanced at him expectantly. “Choose something.”

He blinked. “What?”

She gestured toward the small collection of cassette tapes she had set aside. “You’re picking the soundtrack.”

He rolled his eyes but reached for the selection nonetheless. His fingers brushed over several titles before settling on one—The Division Bell by Pink Floyd. Without hesitation, he inserted the tape, letting the opening notes of High Hopes fill the cabin.

The haunting melody, the steady build of the song, the echo of something both melancholic and grand—it fit, somehow. He watched as Katya maneuvered the Jaguar with an effortless confidence, her hands firm on the wheel, her sharp profile illuminated in the winter light. The wind played through her hair, tangling the strands in a way that should have been unruly but somehow only made her look more striking. It was absurd, really, how easily she fit into this picture—like she had stepped straight out of some untold fantasy of his youth, one he had  since abandoned as foolish.

She had remembered. Not just some offhand comment, but something he had written in the reckless honesty of ink and parchment years ago. The weight of that realization settled somewhere deep in his chest, heavier than expected.

As London blurred past them, as the cold air rushed around them, Severus allowed himself, just for a moment, to believe that the past could remain where it belonged.

Just for today.

[jrepin]

KDE Plasma 6.4 released

Plasma is a popular desktop (and mobile) environment for GNU/Linux and other UNIX-like operating systems. Among other things it also powers the desktop mode of Steam Deck gaming handheld. The KDE community today announced the latest release: Plasma 6.4. This fresh new release improves on nearly every front, with progress being made in accessibility, color rendering, tablet support, window management, and more.

Plasma already offered virtual desktops and customizable tiles to help organize your windows and activities, and now it lets you choose a different configuration of tiles on each virtual desktop. The Wayland session brings some new accessibility features: you can now move the pointer using your keyboard’s number pad keys, or use a three-finger touchpad pinch gesture to zoom in or out. Plasma file transfer notification now shows a speed graph, giving you a more visual idea of how fast the transfer is going, and how long it will take to complete. When any applications are in full screen mode Plasma will now enter Do Not Disturb mode and only show urgent notifications, and when you exit full screen mode, you’ll see a summary of any notifications you missed. Now when an application tries to access the microphone and finds it muted, a notification will pop up. A new feature in the Application Launcher widget will place a green New! tag next to newly installed apps, so you can easily find where something you just installed lives in the menu. The Display and Monitor page in System Settings comes with a brand new HDR calibration wizard, and support for Extended Dynamic Range (a different kind of HDR) and P010 video color format has been added. System Monitor now supports usage monitoring for AMD and Intel graphic cards, it can even show the GPU usage on a per-process basis. Spectacle, the built-in app for taking screenshots and screen recordings, has much improved design and more streamlined functionality. The background of the desktop or window now darkens when an authentication dialog shows up, helping you locate and focus on the window asking for your password. There’s a brand-new Animations page in System Settings that groups all the settings for purely visual animated effects into one place, making it easier to find and configure them. Aurorae is a newly added SVG vector graphics theme engine for KWin window decorations.

You can read more about these and many other other features in the Plasma 6.4 anounncement and complete changelog.

[nation-of-bros]

This flag symbolizes the opposite of masculinity and male love. It is a sign of the political appropriation of "sexual minorities", who are being exploited to create a new society that is just as livable as its theocratic counterpart.

A Contribution to the Current "Pride Month"

How Feminists Pervert Gay Men into Suicide Bombers

With LGBTQ+ it’s not about the recognition of same-sex love, but about foisting an extremely “woke,” deeply feminist, and broadly leftist ideology onto people by way of misleading homosexuals and unleashing them as vectors of attack on society as a whole. Logically, this achieves exactly the opposite of “tolerance”, since instead of conveying cool, desirable masculinity, LGBTQ+ only instills guilt and the compulsion to embrace its “queerness”. Accordingly, die-hard conservatives increasingly view these rainbow people as a “threat”. This is especially evident in Eastern Europe, where LGBTQ+’s politicization of sexuality has led governments to enact laws specifically aimed at curbing the “homosexualization in schools”: It was obviously anything but helpful to parade one’s fetishes half-naked to naked along public streets during “Pride” months:

[www.sfgate.com]

[tennesseestar.com]

One cannot force tolerance, especially not when the demeaning image of the “perverse homosexual” is served up in such an extreme way. Consequently, rainbow parades reinforce those prejudices about gay men, claiming they are sex-obsessed, unmanly, or simply “abhorrent” instead of proving the opposite! This deeply harmful effect is further intensified by the fact that LGBTQ+ presumes to speak on behalf of all homosexual and bisexual men, which is plainly false! Very many of us give no sign that we are attracted to our own kind, because we are simply normal men who find it anything but arousing to effeminize ourselves or publicly present ourselves as fetish objects! No, we do not do that! And we reject those clichés, for in our view the obscene dancing beneath rainbow banners is not an expression of freedom but merely the spectacle of a movement that seeks to make society more deranged rather than more “tolerant”.

Anyone who rejects this “colorfulness” – including homosexual men themselves – is, in their eyes, simply labeled an “intolerant Nazi”. Here there even exists a compatible interface with Antifa, resulting in a calamitous fusion of “queer”, feminist, and anarchist elements:

[www.tag24.de]

[capiremov.org]

[https://www.lemonde.fr]

But the worst thing about LGBTQ+ is the feminist instrumentalization, which cranks up effeminization by a factor of one thousand: long hair, painted fingernails, shoes with heels or even the wearing of long dresses, plus countless mimicked gestures and behavioral patterns of high-end drama queens, all to come across as maximally “queer”. There is, in fact, no boundary left to respect, because masculinity is considered “toxic” anyway, so being hyper-camp has become the new conformity. LGBTQ+ thus amounts to nothing more than the feminists’ ideological nuclear strike aimed directly at the root of masculinity, by sissifying precisely those who carry the greatest potential for manliness within themselves, because it is not heterosexual men who particularly cherish masculinity or brotherhood, but always homosexual and bisexual men who appear as the strongest advocates of men and masculine ideals. Therefore, feminists aim their rainbow precisely at these men in order to smash the society's most masculine core.

—

Diese Flagge symbolisiert das Gegenteil von Männlichkeit und männlicher Liebe. Sie ist ein Zeichen der politischen Vereinnahmung von "sexuellen Minderheiten", die missbraucht werden, um eine neue Gesellschaft zu erschaffen, die genauso lebenswert ist wie ihr theokratisches Gegenstück.

Ein Beitrag zum aktuellen „Pride Month“

Wie Feministen schwule Männer zu Selbstmordattentätern pervertieren

Bei LGBTQ+ geht es nicht um die Anerkennung von gleichgeschlechtlicher Liebe, sondern um das Aufoktroyieren einer extrem "woken", zutiefst feministischen und allgemein linken Ideologie, indem hierzu Homosexuelle irregeleitet und als Angriffsvektoren auf die gesamte Gesellschaft losgelassen werden. Logischerweise wird dadurch genau das Gegenteil von "Toleranz" erreicht, denn statt cooler, begehrenswerter Männlichkeit vermittelt LGBTQ+ nur Schuldgefühle und den Zwang, deren "Queerness" anzunehmen. Entsprechend sehen Erzkonservative derartige Regenbogenmenschen zunehmend als eine "Gefahr". Dies zeigt sich vor allem in Osteuropa, wo LGBTQ+ mit seiner Politisierung von Sexualität dazu führte, dass Regierungen gezielt Gesetze erlie��en, um die "Homosexualisierung an Schulen" zu unterbinden. Ganz offensichtlich war es alles andere als hilfreich, in "Pride"-Monaten halbnackt bis nackt öffentlich seine Fetische in Straßenzügen auszuleben:

[www.sfgate.com]

[tennesseestar.com]

Man kann Toleranz nicht erzwingen, schon gar nicht, wenn das herabwürdigende Bild des "perversen Homosexuellen" selbst auf so extreme Weise bedient wird. Folglich festigen Regenbogenparaden jene Vorurteile über Schwule, wonach sie sexsüchtig, unmännlich oder schlichtweg "abartig" seien, anstatt das Gegenteil aufzuzeigen! Dieser zutiefst schädliche Effekt wird noch dadurch verstärkt, dass sich LGBTQ+ anmaßt, im Namen aller homo- und bisexuellen Männer zu sprechen, was einfach falsch ist! Sehr vielen von uns sieht man nicht an, dass wir auf unseres Gleichen abfahren, weil wir schlicht normale Männer sind, die es alles andere als geil finden, sich zu verweiblichen oder öffentlich als Fetischobjekte zu präsentieren! Nein, das tun wir nicht! Und wir lehnen jene Klischees ab, denn aus unserer Sicht stellt das obszöne Tanzen unter Regenbogenfarben kein Ausdruck von Freiheit dar, sondern ist nichts als die Darbietung einer Bewegung, welche die Gesellschaft verrückter statt "toleranter" machen will.

Jeder, der diese "Buntheit" ablehnt – selbst homosexuelle Männer – wird aus deren Sicht einfach nur als ‚intoleranter Nazi‘ abgestempelt. Hier besteht sogar eine kompatible Schnittstelle zur Antifa, was in eine verhängnisvolle Mischung aus "queeren", feministischen und anarchistischen Elementen mündet:

[www.tag24.de]

[capiremov.org]

[https://www.lemonde.fr]

Doch das Schlimmste an LGBTQ+ ist die feministische Instrumentalisierung, welche die Verweiblichung noch einmal um den Faktor 1000 hochdreht: Lange Haare, lackierte Fingernägel, Schuhe mit Absätzen oder gar das Tragen von langen Kleidern, dazu viele nachgeahmte Gestiken und Verhaltensmuster von Edelzicken, um maximal "queer" daherzukommen. Es gibt faktisch keine Grenze mehr, die noch eingehalten wird, weil Männlichkeit sowieso als "toxisch" gilt, sodass hypertuntig sein zur neuen Konformität wird. LGBTQ+ ist damit nichts weiter als der ideologische Nuklearschlag der Feministen, um Männlichkeit direkt an der Wurzel auszurotten, indem sie ausgerechnet jene tuntisieren, welche das größte Potenzial zur Männlichkeit in sich tragen, denn es sind nicht heterosexuelle Männer, die Maskulinität oder Bruderschaft sonderlich wertschätzen, sondern stets Homo- und Bisexuelle, die als die größten Fürsprecher von Männern und männlichen Idealen auftreten. Daher richten Feministen ihren Regenbogen ausgerechnet auf diese Männer, um der Gesellschaft ihren männlichsten Kern zu zerschießen.

[the-consortium]

There was laughter on the wind here, out on the fringes of the Opphon plain, as the veil began to break down. Warpfire, re-entry heat and the cataclysmic death of titans had burned back the snow as far as the northern foothills, where the Iron Fists had died. The path of their retreat was marked by a trail of broken bodies and smoldering tanks, a fresh road stretching out from the wreck of the Cestus Relictor, to the ugly looking barbican that guarded the mountain pass. The broken ship squatted darkly amidst a forest of smoke columns; the first wave landing craft downed by its colossal guns, but even now, lesser warbands were no doubt crawling through its halls in search of prizes, plunder and prisoners. The sons of Fulgrim had watched the battle from afar, like vultures waiting to see which duelling beast became carrion. There had been a pleasance to the ebb and flow of it, the way the line of grey bloomed and sparkled with muzzle flashes and detonations each time the infernal tide rolled in upon them. Each murder of a titan was a slow, graceful affair, punctuated by energy discharge that dazzled and slashed their way through the smoking air. The dreadnought was not hard to find. They'd watched as the gunship was gutted as it tried to hasten survivors back to the safety of the mountains. The bodies had scattered like dark pollen from the riven craft, but the single fruit, the larger shape, had fallen faster, throwing up dust and soil as it bounced and rolled and ploughed its way across the plain. There was not much left of it at the end of the furrow such fall had carved, but there was still a sparking, guttering sense of life within the crumpled wreck. The golden gauntlet sigil of the Iron Fists chapter had been torn off along with its arms, but the name, 'Syrak', was still legible on the sarcophagus lid, in spite of the dark, viscous fluid that marred the lettering it as it trickled from the vision-slit down into the dark earth. As the figures approached, there was a whine of broken servos and a series of unpleasant clunks from within the wreck. Slowly, falteringly, the mangled vox-modulator churned out a stuttering sequence of words, carrying neither emotion nor any sense of recognition of the figures that surveyed it. "Cousi-i-i-ns. Do not. Lea-ea-ea-ea-eave me hhhhhere."

"Of course it's far from me to pass a verdict here … I'm not someone who needs to pass judgement on others …" A brief silence, then a harsh laugh at his own joke, which continues for quite a while before it dies away with a chortle. Accompanied by quiet words in a language that is more of a hiss than actual syllables. "… but in general, I wonder whether earlier intervention would not make for a much better harvest. Not to mention the fact that we are damaging other people's image here."

The person at whom the words are obviously directed due to sheer physical proximity does not reply. Instead, he continues to work on finding a good approach vector to the dispersing battlefield that won't cause the aggressive gunship to rebel too much if he denies it prey, while remaining inconspicuous.

Instead, an answer comes from further back: "And by better harvest, you don't mean select cruelty and silly new skin garments, do you?" - "Pah! I'm always fighting prejudice here." Waving it off and then ramming the midnight blue helmet with the bat wings onto his head.

"There's a very good reason why the Chief Apothecary didn't send any of our purple friends here. All tactical discipline falls out of their heads as soon as they see the opportunity to interfere in a battle and make a spectacle of themselves. Waiting and striking surgically - that really doesn't suit them anymore." - "Yes, yes, yes. Precision and boredom. When did that happen?" - "You can discuss it with him when we get back. I'll make some popcorn and watch this conversation from a safe distance."

For a while, there is only a busy silence as the three Apothecaries finish equipping themselves and force the angrily protesting gunship to land in a crater left by a Titan's footstep in the churned-up mud of the battlefield.

Everyone not only arms themselves, but also adds several extra canisters for Gene Seed to their belts. Then they open the ramp, taking advantage of a moment of distraction when the ship wouldn't shoot at them out of sheer fury and spite, and run crouched to the nearest remnant of wall. One shadow in scuffed black, one in well-maintained metal with yellow and black accented stripes, and one in midnight blue.

They orientate themselves and then start systematically scanning the battlefield. Their prize is what is always needed in the Eye of Terror. Harvested compassionlessly but not cruelly. The last mercy given without engaging in the maelstrom of mysticism that has spread tumour-like through the galaxy in the time since their rebellion failed so resoundingly.

None of the three believe in anything that could be called fate or predestination. And yet, after about half an hour, the small canisters full of dripping tissue, they find themselves almost simultaneously at what is, in a strange way, a burial site. The second time.

„Cousi-i-i-ns. Do not. Lea-ea-ea-ea-eave me hhhhhere.“

"Huh," Skalagrim mouths in astonishment.

"Look at that, a playmate for Diomat! Can I keep him?" laughs Duco, his rasping laugh once again making him so uncomfortably similar to his Sire.

Tzimiskes sighs.

Finally Skalagrim steps right up to the fallen dreadnought. Tilts his head. Looks to Tzimiskes, "Can you do anything with him?"

The Iron Warrior shrugs his shoulders, but nods. All three look at their Narthetica at the same time, check their readings and begin to stabilise the fallen old man. They don't have to coordinate much. Every move is perfect. After a while, Tzimiskes rises and disappears in the direction of the hollow, where Butcher Bird is bored and probably in an even worse mood than usual.

Duco injects several different sedatives and coagulants and says in a paternalistic manner: "Well, my old friend, now tell Uncle Doctor - where are we from and what year are we living in?"

[branmuffins22]

It says failed game dev in your bio what game(s) were you working on? We're there any stories you wanted to tell?

Not all that much of a story to tell, but here's the gist:

I made a few student games with my twin in highschool (even took one to a trade skills competition, we got 7th place in nationals), went to college to pursue game development as a career, learned the hard way that I wasn't cut out for it (acquired hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt and a bunch of stress/overwork-related health complications for my troubles), flunked out in my second year, and haven't made a game since (closest I've come has been almost getting a job as a QA tester for Nintendo of America, brainstorming a handful of game ideas, and helping my twin squash bugs in his own projects sometimes).

As for the specifics, I've only worked on 3 games I'm even somewhat proud of: Run&Gun, Paint the Town, and Custom Fighter. All three were made in highschool, using a proprietary game engine made by the same school my twin and I later flunked out of. As a general rule, my twin handled the art and design, and I handled the programming, but there was some overlap where we dipped our toes into eachother's jobs.

Infodump beyond the readmore:

Run&Gun was a combination First-Person Shooter and Racing Game, with some gravity-bending mechanics, as a treat. In it, you raced on a massive, twisting track against a handful of computer players while shooting them with your trusty SMG, and trying not to get shot yourself. The player could stick to walls, treating everything they raced along as the ground, which let us get a little silly with the track's layout. There was also a really cool section near the end that featured a halfpipe (or maybe more like a three-quarters-pipe) that ended in a ramp and a huge jump, which, due to the nature of the wall-sticking mechanic, had you falling forwards moreso than down for about half of it. It was probably the only bit of spectacle that actually hit the mark.

The game had a lot of neat ideas, but ultimately failed in execution for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that it served as many firsts: our first 3D game, our first first-person game, our first game with computer players, our first racing game, our first game with dynamic physics, our first game we worked on for longer than a month, etc. I actually ended up reinventing several wheels while working on this game, since I didn't know what to look for as far as guidance at the time: linked lists, aim-assist, behavior trees, and some really crude vector math being chief among them. On one hand, I really didn't need to do all that, because the tech already existed (and is downright ubiquitous in the industry), but on the other hand, I felt smart as hell when I made it work, and super vindicated when I learned that people smarter than me had been doing the same shit for decades.

Paint the Town was a 2D Action Platformer which took heavy aesthetic inspiration from Splatoon (or, what little of Splatoon we'd seen over the shoulder of a Wii-U-owning friend of ours, anyways). There was only one level, which also served as a tutorial, and it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, but with such a limited scope, we managed to squeeze out a solid experience. You played as Fuschia (spelled that way because we thought the real spelling of the word was dumb), an excitable teen who wanted to take back her city from the evil... Blobbers? Bloobies? I don't remember what we called 'em, they were an invading force of aliens that kinda just looked like the slimes from Dragon Quest. Anyways, they were painting everything blue, which made everyone there feel blue, so our hero took it upon herself to paint the town a fresh new hue (fuchsia, obviously).

It was a fairly linear experience, with no special movement mechanics or anything: just a short gauntlet of guys to take down as you hopped across rooftops and construction sites, picking up the occasional extra weapon here and there for variety. The three things I'm most proud of are the relative variety of unique enemies and weapons (patrolling guys, turret guys, helicopter guys, and even a bomb-throwing boss guy, as well as four different weapons with unique shot patterns), the visual effects (the city was a fairly-blank canvas, and you and the enemies would paint over it as you fought), and a handy little tool we lovingly called the ~Vector Trajector Projector~, which acted as a reticle to show the path your shots would go (discounting any spread) while you aimed. It was really just an extremely basic projectile simulation equation, but dammit, I was proud! For a project that only took a couple months to make, it was pretty solid, in my opinion.

Custom Fighter was the last of our highschool games, and the one we took to that national trade skills competition. Well, technically we took all three of them to the competition, but Run&Gun only took us as far as state the year prior, and we pivoted from Paint the Town to Custom Fighter between regionals and state of that final year. Anyways, it was a 3D Dueling Game featuring giant robots that could be decorated and customized in a pre-match menu. The only mechanical effects your customization would have was the robot's physical size (for hit/hurtboxes and so on) and its Weight, which depended on its size and determined its speed, knockback, and to a lesser extent, damage, so the rest was just for fun. Every robot had the same moveset: just a punch, an uppercut, a power-punch, a roundhouse kick, a missile barrage, and a meter-draining super move (a weird timestopping dropkick thing that we couldnt animate in time, and thus really just looked like you stopped time and flew face-first at the other guy in midair).

There were a whole lot of little things I was proud of in this game: dynamic knockback animations, light trails and other such visual effects, my largest attempt at menu/UI design to date (for the customization screen), a really satisfying application of calculus to make the dropkick hit the mark every time, and the fact that I managed to fix every last crash bug the night before the competition's showcase.

But my greatest accomplishment wasn't even technically something I did; rather, it was something I couldn't do.

The time-stopping dropkick had a funny bug that seemingly-randomly caused the player who got hit with it to get flung out of the arena at truly ludicrous speeds, instead of the intended knockback velocity of the attack. The night before the competition, I discovered that it was because the players would sometimes collide physically after the attack's hitbox reached the target's hurtbox (which applied the inteneded knockback), but before time would resume its usual flow. Because the attacking player would be going incredibly fast in-simulation (despite going at a pretty moderate pace as far as any viewers were concerned), they would impart an incredible amount of momentum to the other player, which, once time resumed its normal rate, translated to getting launched offscreen faster than you could blink. I couldn't come up with a way to fix the bug entirely in time for the competition, but I did manage to come up with a band-aid patch that made it a lot less likely.

A month or so earlier, in that same year, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild came out, and unbeknownst to me at the time, it featured the same exact bug. I only discovered it thanks to the Something About video, which came out a couple years later, but if you've ever seen a speedrunner do a shield surf jump toward an enemy's head, pull out a bow to enter arrow-time, and bounce off to launch way up into the sky, that's exactly the same mechanics at play. The enemy's animation when they get bounced on has their head snap into a different position to start, which, while in arrow-time, translates to an absurd amount of movement over extremely little time. Landing on something while shield-surfing usually only applies a certain amount of bounce to the player, but if the player and the enemy are in just the right positions relative to eachother, they collide physically after the initial hit, and the player gets flung hilariously far away.

So what was once a bug that bested me, the bane of my existence, had become something that hundreds and hundreds of smarter people had tried to fix too, each as unsuccessful as the last. I couldn't fix that bug, but neither could the entire team behind one of the biggest and best games to date.

It was extremely vindicating.

[usafphantom2]

No, The F-35B Does Not Use Afterburner In Vertical Landing Mode

Imagery of F-35Bs operating at night make it look like afterburner is used in vertical mode, but the truth is more interesting.

@Aviation_intel via X

Thomas NewdickPUBLISHED Dec 28, 2023 1:31 PM EST

F-35 Lightning fighter jets have conducted their first night flying trials off the United Kingdom’s largest warship, HMS Queen Elizabeth. The aircraft carrier, which first landed F-35 Lightning jets on board last week, is currently conducting flight testing off the east coast of the United States. Pictures show how the night time trials, which up until now have only been tested in simulators or on the ground, were carried out using state-of-the-art night-vision technology, with the pilots and aircraft handlers successfully guiding the supersonic fighter jets onto the flight deck. Some trials were also carried out without night vision technology to ensure the jets’ capability in any eventuality.

U.S. Marine Corps photo by Kyra Helwick

An F-35B stealth fighter conducting vertical or rolling vertical landings on a warship’s deck at night is a sight to behold. Perhaps the most dramatic aspect of this audio-visual spectacle is the vertical ‘pillar of thrust’ upon which the jet perches as it makes its descent onto the deck. But while it looks very much like an afterburner plume, and many on social media think that's what it is, the F-35B doesn’t actually engage this function when operating in vertical mode.

The effect, as seen in the photo at the top of this story — showing an F-35B on the U.K. Royal Navy carrier HMS Prince of Wales — is produced when a highly sensitive low-light camera picks up the very hot gas that’s pumped out of the F-35B’s rear nozzle upon landing at night.

A quick aside on afterburners to get everyone up to speed. Many high-performance military aircraft, the F-35B included, feature them. They inject fuel into a combustor in the jet pipe behind the turbine, for a significant boost in thrust when required, albeit at the cost of drastically increased fuel consumption and infrared signature.

F-35B taking off conventionally in afterburner during a test sortie. Lockheed Martin

We know, of course, that the F-35B’s engine already produces a lot of heat. In the past, the deck coatings and some structural elements of ships have had to be modified to deal with it. Even without the afterburner, the Pratt & Whitney F135 engine generates a staggering amount of thrust for the short takeoff and vertical landing (STOVL) operations that are unique to the F-35B variant of the aircraft.

A video shows a U.S. Marine Corps test pilot performing the first night-time vertical landing by an F-35B aboard the USS Wasp on August 14, 2013:

The War Zone spoke to one experienced former F-35B pilot, who prefers to remain anonymous, to get a better understanding of the technologies — and performance — involved in STOVL operations.

First off, the pilot gave us an idea of the sheer amount of thrust that we are dealing with in STOVL mode.

U.S. Marine Corps Maj. Michael Lippert and Peter Wilson, F-35 test pilots at the Patuxent River Integrated Test Force (ITF), conduct night field carrier landing practices at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, in August 2018, in preparation for trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann

The variant of the F135 engine used in the F-35B, in dry thrust (without gas-guzzling afterburner engaged), develops around 18,500 pounds of thrust when in STOVL mode. It’s this hot gas that can be seen in the above images and others like it. The vectoring exhaust in the F-35B version is known as the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle or 3BSN. While the pilot can select separate stages (zones) of afterburner for a major thrust gain in conventional flight mode, it’s much harder to modulate finely for the more delicate STOVL operations.

F-35B test aircraft BF-4 hovers in the darkness during a night test flight at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, December 13, 2012. Lockheed Martin

At the same time, for STOVL operations, the F-35B is equipped with a Rolls-Royce Lift Fan, a 50-inch, two-stage counter-rotating fan driven via a shaft from the main engine. The Lift Fan produces a similar amount of thrust — so, roughly another 18,500 pounds.

On top of this, add the two roll posts — which stream more hot exhaust gases from the main engine for additional stability — generating between 1,800 pounds and 2,000 pounds of thrust each.

All this makes for a little over 40,000 pounds of total thrust. Without afterburner.

A diagram showing, from left to right, the Lift Fan, two roll posts, and the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle or 3BSN in the F-35B. Rolls-Royce

“There’s a reserve to allow the jet to automatically tune it up over the life of the engine to keep it at that level,” the pilot explains. “That said, there are issues with the predicted life/fatigue already. So a new engine update is inbound.” You can read more about those plans here.

When hovering, the F-35B’s maximum weight is limited to 38,850 pounds to ensure there’s some extra thrust to provide flexibility and cushion the landing.

An F-35B during night flying trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth, as part of flight testing off the east coast of the United States in 2018. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann

Less obvious, perhaps, is the work of the flight control system to manage the jet’s transition into vertical mode and then help put it safely on the deck.

“Decelerating into the hover, the aircraft is around 11 degrees nose-up,” the pilot continues. “As the aircraft goes into the jet-borne (JB) regime, the attitude changes progressively down to 1.8 degrees nose-up. So quite a change as you slow down — this is all controlled by the thrust split between the 3 Bearing Swivel Nozzle (3BSN) at the back and the Lift Fan. Then, as the pilot commands a descent from the hover down to the pad, the thrust split increases the attitude from 1.8 to 3.8 degrees nose-up to account for sloping pads or a pitching deck, ensuring the main wheels touch down before the nose wheel.”

F-35Bs conduct night flying operations aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann

The opposite then happens when the pilot commands the F-35B to accelerate out of the hover and into the conventional flight mode. “[The jet] starts at 1.8 degrees nose-up and as you go into semi-jet borne flight around 60 KCAS [Knots Calibrated Airspeed], the attitude raises to 11 degrees nose-up to make the wing take some of the lift load and lower the amount of engine thrust required by the Lift Fan and 3BSN combination in the vertical axis. Eventually, the Lift Fan thrust is reduced, and a speed is achieved that allows the aircraft to be converted out of STOVL mode and into CTOL [conventional takeoff and landing] mode as a conventional fixed-wing fighter.”

“It’s astoundingly clever,” the pilot enthuses.

Another view of F-35B night field carrier landing practices by the Patuxent River Integrated Test Force (ITF), at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland, in August 2018. U.S. Navy photo by Dane Wiedmann

Cleverer still is a variation of the vertical recovery that’s seen in the photo at the top of this story — the Shipborne Rolling Vertical Landing (SRVL), a concept you can read more about here and here.

A standard F-35B recovery involves the jet being brought alongside the ship in a hover, translating sideways over the deck, before gently lowering to land. The advantage of this maneuver is increased safety, due to the low speeds involved, with no need to decelerate to a stop using the brakes.

In contrast, the SRVL makes use of a combination of powered and wing-borne lift to make a rolling landing, with the F-35B then brought to a stop using its brakes. According to the Royal Navy, “An SRVL uses a different approach, with the jet using a more conventional landing pattern, approaching the ship from the aft end, at speed, using the thrust from the nozzle and lift created by air over the wings to touch down and come to a stop as soon as possible.”

A video from the Shipborne Rolling Vertical Landing simulator at the BAE Warton facility in the United Kingdom:

The main advantage of an SRVL is that the F-35B can return to the ship with a heavier load of fuel and/or weapons. Otherwise, expensive stores might have to be ejected into the sea if they are not expended. It’s hoped that the SRVL maneuver will allow the F-35B to land back on the ship with a payload gain of 2,000 pounds, equivalent to four Paveway IV precision-guided bombs.

A fully loaded UK F-35B on the deck of HMS Queen Elizabeth. Stores on the underwing stations include four 500-pound Paveway IV precision-guided bombs. Crown Copyright

The SRVL concept was proven by test pilots aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth in 2018. The photo at the top of this story was taken during trials aboard sister carrier HMS Prince of Wales in October 2023, which were aimed to introduce the SRVL capability to frontline pilots.

Achieving an SRVL requires close cooperation between the pilot and the ship’s landing signal officer (LSO) in the flying control office. The pilot also receives flightpath cues from their helmet-mounted display.

U.K. test pilot Peter Wilson conducts the first-ever SRVL by an F-35B, during trials aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth in 2018. Crown Copyright

Meanwhile, the Prince of Wales features a visual landing aid — known as the Bedford Array — specifically tailored to SRVLs. This comprises an array of lights in the flight deck tramlines, which indicates the glideslope to the pilot.

Currently, the United Kingdom is the only F-35B operator committed to introducing the SRVL to its concept of operations, although the U.S. Marine Corps has shown some interest in the past. Still, this is likely connected with operations from British aircraft carriers rather than U.S. Navy amphibious assault ships. Regardless, the U.S. Marine Corps continues to be involved in the trials with the Royal Navy, as part of the Integrated Test Force. SRVLs may well also be of relevance to Italy and Japan, both of which also operate their F-35Bs from ships, but just how safe it would be on those ships's smaller decks is unclear at this time.

An F-35B from the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit performs a vertical landing on the flight deck of the USS America (LHA-6). F-35 Lightning II Joint Program Office

Whether by day or night, returning an F-35B to the deck of a ship showcases some extremely sophisticated technology, some of it more visible than others. While a nighttime recovery may suggest the use of afterburner, the truth is, if anything, more impressive, with the jet being brought back to the ship thanks to roughly 40,000 pounds of non-afterburning thrust.

Contact the author: thomas@thedrive.com

[beevean]

I think people usually confuse delving into darker subjects in writing as the same thing as making a story more mature, when there's actually a difference between the two. You can introduce darker elements into a story, or have it shift to a darker tone. But it's not going to be effective if you don't have enough of an understanding of what makes what you're trying to tackle is so fucked up in the first place, or why the introduction of it is significant and carries so much weight. Without tackling it with finesse, it will come off as immature if anything, like a kid who just discovered curse words.

Every time IDW tries to do this it feels more like it's more for shock value. Another thing it seems to be falling into that over half of the pre-reboot run of the Archie comics did. But at least with Archie there was the spectacle of it having some of the most certifiably insane shit happen.

Friendly reminder that when Flynn got sick of the criticism against the way he wrote the moral dilemma in #50, he justified himself with "it's a children's fantasy, if you adult want something deeper go read something else".

Which says a lot about how much he cares about the stuff he wrote.

My man. No one forced you to write everyone getting pissed at Sonic for not killing Mr. Tinker and whether or not it would be justified to murder a man who doesn't remember his own war crimes. No one forced you to write gruesome scenes such as Vector trapping an infected woman TWD-style, or everything happening to Cream. No one forced you to come up with Surge and Kit and their horrifying nature of being brainwashed into being caricatures, with Surge being forced to feel homicidial hatred for someone he doesn't know and Kit being forced to be an extension of Surge herself. No one forced you to "explore" Sonic's supposed "principle" of giving everyone freedom. You want a dark story? Commit. Children cartoons have done it. Just to make one famous example, AtLA's whole backdrop revolves around exploring the consequences of war and imperialism.

Hell what about Sonic himself? The Storybook games? One with an abusive relationship, and the other brushing over the fear of death? They might not go very deep into these topics, but it doesn't come off as haphazard either!

The MV arc simply didn't matter in the long run! The only consequence of it is that Starline decided to show Eggman who's the better evil scientist by creating Surge and Kit, but there was zero need for all that drawn out angst. Cream herself is completely fine and happy after watching her mother die! Surge and Kit will come back in a few months so we'll see what happens with them, but the story barely explored their fucked up nature, and it only highlighted what a piece of shit IDW Sonic is by being so callous towards both of them. And by giving random angst to Surge via Starline hallucinations that, once again, did not matter at all - Stanley simply really wanted to draw Surge scared and crying.

It's amateurish. I have no other word for it.