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ppyopulii · 4 months ago

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maestro’s muse 💿 interview no. 13

PREVIEW. Has HYBEHAX always been this… unserious?

FEATURING. lee jihoon x gn!reader, various non-idol!hybe groups & reader GENRE(S). coming of age, fluff, some angst LENGTH | WC. <10min | 2.2k words EXPLICITS. soonyoung is chaotic. & i guess one (1) curse word

JAY’S MUSINGS. prologue (part two) for maestro’s muse, the series. not every part will be written in screenplay, just like how not every part will be written in smau format, just like how not every part will be written in prose, etc etc... just havin’ fun writing (: enjoy!

www.hybehax.tech/interview

THE INTERVIEW FADE IN.

A cozy dorm room lined with comforting trinkets. The digital clock sitting on a neatly stacked shelf indicates it's almost half past seven o'clock. It’s quiet in the shared bedroom, and YOU (college freshman, music fanatic, prospective HYBEHAX organizer) sit at the desk, nervously tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth.

A monitor shows the join feature of a Zoom call. YOU stare back at yourself through the small camera screen displayed.

There’s a soft ping from a notification. A pause, and then YOU take a deep breath and click the join button.

On the screen, SEUNGCHEOL (college junior, President of HYBEHAX, mutual acquaintance of YOU) smiles at you from his impressive HD face-cam.

SEUNGCHEOL Hello, we’ll get started in just a minute. Soonyoung is having some difficulty logging on.

Shuffling noises sound from another screen. JIHOON (college sophomore, Internal Vice President of HYBEHAX, music theory classmate of YOU) grumbles under his breath.

JIHOON (irritated) You’d think with this being his thirteenth interview he’d have gotten the hang of it now.

SEUNGCHEOL (warning) Jihoon.

JIHOON mumbles a sorry and mutes. A minute passes and SOONYOUNG (college sophomore, External Vice President of HYBEHAX, friend of YOU) pops up on-screen, face grainy from bad internet.

SOONYOUNG Hi! Nice to see you!

YOU (warmly) Hey, Soonyoung. Still doing alright in your math classes?

SOONYOUNG (groaning) Not the same without you, man. You actually carried me through calculus.

YOU Aren’t you just in business statistics now? How hard can that be?

SOONYOUNG Don’t ask.

There’s a few coughs from SEUNGCHEOL. Conversation dies down and SEUNGCHEOL moves his camera to center himself on screen.

SEUNGCHEOL Alright, hello and welcome to your HYBEHAX organizer interview! Thank you for taking the time to apply; we were impressed by your application. Now that we’re here, think of this as a time for us to get to know each other, and for you to ask us any questions you have.

SOONYOUNG (interjecting) It’s really lowkey, don’t worry.

SEUNGCHEOL clicks his tongue. SOONYOUNG giggles and mutes.

SEUNGCHEOL We’ll start with a round of introductions. I’m Choi Seungcheol, a rising senior and double major in computer science and mathematics. I’m also the current President of HYBEHAX. I run pretty much… everything? Let’s see… uh, I’ve been an organizer of HYBEHAX since I was a sophomore, but I’ve been involved with hackathons since I was fifteen. I actually remember trying to code my first project in that 24-hour period. Even though I barely had any idea what I was doing, all the organizers and my teammates were so nice. Made me feel really welcomed.

YOU (smiling from ear-to-ear) Fifteen? That’s some serious dedication, I respect it. What drew you to want to be HYBEHAX’s President?

SEUNGCHEOL’s lips part in an ‘o’, like he’s surprised YOU asked a question.

SEUNGCHEOL Well… I guess you can say I’ve grown attached? The people that I’ve met and grown with through HYBEHAX have really made my college years worth it. That, and I want to be able to keep organizing a space that made me feel as safe as I did as a kid.

YOU Yeah, I understand. That’s really admirable, congratulations!

SEUNGCHEOL Thank you, that means a lot. I really hope I can continue to make this upcoming hackathon worthwhile to attend, especially since it’ll be my last year being an organizer.

SOONYOUNG unmutes.

SOONYOUNG And it’s our 10th year!

SEUNGCHEOL (laughing, albeit stressed) Yeah, that too. Ah… how could I forget?

A tense silence falls on the four. YOU shift your focus to SOONYOUNG to alleviate the tension.

YOU Wanna introduce yourself next?

SOONYOUNG Oh! Yeah, I can. You already know me, but I’m Soonyoung, EVP of HYBEHAX. I manage all the external affairs, like talking to building managers for renting and university officials for fundings of our hackathon. I’ve been organizing for awhile too, like Cheol-hyung, and I’m super excited for this year!

YOU (joking) You, trusted with money?

SOONYOUNG (mock offense) Yah, I’m literally a business major!

YOU Yeah yeah, whatever. What’s been your favorite part?

SOONYOUNG’s eyes light up.

SOONYOUNG Shopping!

YOU Shopping?

SOONYOUNG For the hackathon! I’m in charge of it.

SEUNGCHEOL (exasperated) With my card.

YOU watch JIHOON snort silently. He unmutes.

JIHOON You get reimbursed by the university, at least.

SEUNGCHEOL (sulking) But does he have to do it with my card?

SOONYOUNG You’re the president!

JIHOON rolls his eyes and scoffs good-naturedly.

JIHOON Hey, we’re in an interview right now.

SOONYOUNG (dismissively) So what? We all know them, and they know us. We worked with them last season when they were a volunteer.

YOU raise an eyebrow.

YOU Shouldn’t we at least try to maintain some formality though? Just for record’s sake?

SEUNGCHEOL …they have a point. Jihoon, go ahead and introduce yourself and we’ll actually start asking questions.

JIHOON Hi. My name is Lee Jihoon, I’ll be your Internal Vice President. Rising junior, computer science major. I work specifically on the inner-running logistics of HYBEHAX.

YOU nod and go silent at his lackluster introduction. SEUNGCHEOL chuckles.

SEUNGCHEOL Ah… Jihoon-ah is what keeps this club running. Think of him as the maestro conducting the orchestra—his back is to you but he’s secretly doing all the work.

SOONYOUNG (laughing) You’re making him sound like he does more than you.

JIHOON presses a palm to his face. His facecam slightly lags, blipping the view for a second.

SEUNGCHEOL (clearly enjoying the teasing) Well, at this point he basically does. Once I graduate he’ll be first runner up for President.

SOONYOUNG grins. His camera goes slightly out of focus as he rocks back and forth in his chair.

YOU Well, it’s nice to meet you Jihoon.

JIHOON Likewise.

There’s a beat of silence as YOU and JIHOON stare each other down via webcam. His gaze is sharp, meticulous. Yours is relaxed with a hint of a smile.

SOONYOUNG So formal. Why don’t you go next?

YOU Alright… hi everyone! Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I’m a computer science major with a focus in front-end development, but I hope career-wise to go into front-end regarding data science. I was a volunteer this past fall for HYBEHAX and I really loved helping with the event, so I want to try my hand at organizing this year.

SOONYOUNG You were running around like crazy during the event. I think I saw you like, twice?

YOU (laughing awkwardly) Yeah… the last Marketing Team lead kind of recruited me. I ran around with them a lot getting pictures.

SEUNGCHEOL (amused) I specifically remember you during the welcoming speech. The President and I were trying to talk into the mic and you kept telling us to move slightly to the left ‘cause it looked better on camera that way.

YOU Hey! Because of me we had great shots. We can use these for marketing this time around.

SOONYOUNG Oh? You sure you don’t wanna be a part of Marketing Team?

YOU Oh, hell no.

SEUNGCHEOL and SOONYOUNG burst into laughter. The corner of JIHOON’s lips crack open to reveal a small smile.

SEUNGCHEOL Relax, the Marketing Team Lead from last year left. Our Lead this year will be a lot better.

YOU Glad to hear that.

SEUNGCHEOL Are there any questions you have for us before we get into the specifics of your role?

YOU No, not that I can think of.

SEUNGCHEOL Sounds good! If there are any questions you have along the way, feel free to ask.

SOONYOUNG (raising his hand, not unlike a too-excited kid in school) I have a question!

Metaphorical lights dim. YOU fidget with the hem of your shirt. JIHOON bites his lip to fight a smirk.

JIHOON Yah, you’re the EVP, not Pres.

SEUNGCHEOL (skeptically) No, go ahead Soonyoung.

SOONYOUNG What made you choose Design Team instead of Tech? You’re a CS major, aren’t you?

YOU smile, as if expecting this question.

YOU I did briefly mention this in my application, but I feel like the integration between the arts and technology is so important to cherish and understand these days. Bridging that gap between two worlds that are seemingly unrelated is what I want to do—technology can be used to create art, and art can be used to create technology. It’s all relative, I feel.

JIHOON nods along appreciatively to your words. SEUNGCHEOL is listening intently.

SEUNGCHEOL As an organizer, you’re expected to specialize in your team’s work. You, on the other hand, have experience in multiple aspects—marketing, tech, design. Like Soonyoung said, we all saw how hard-working you were last season as a volunteer. We’d love for you to join us as a proper organizer for our 10th year.

YOU Thank you, that's very sweet of you. I'd be honored!

SOONYOUNG Oh, right. You said you’d be interested in being a Team Lead, too—are you still interested in that?

YOU Yeah, I think it would be fun. What specifically does Design Team Lead do?

SOONYOUNG You’ll be in charge of designating tasks to the members. Last season we only had, um, one member on Design Team. It was a lot and incredibly overwhelming and they quit. Understandably. So having someone who oversees everything would be preferable.

SEUNGCHEOL Yep, things like the sponsorship packet that goes out to sponsors, merchandise for the organizers and participants—those tasks wouldn’t necessarily be completed by you, but you would be in charge of making sure they’re getting done on time and in a professional manner.

YOU That sounds doable. If I’m being honest, I’d feel better managing tasks. I feel like I’d be pressured a lot to go above and beyond if I was just a regular organizer.

JIHOON Do you have experience in leadership?

YOU Only a little bit, but I’m definitely open to learning more, of course. I lead an outreach organization for my scholarship program.

SEUNGCHEOL (nodding along) Impressive.

SOONYOUNG We can call it, right? They’ll be our new Design Team Lead?

YOU Hey, I’d be down if you guys are down. This interview is more relaxing than I thought; barely even one at this point too.

JIHOON (shrugging) Only because we know you from the previous season.

YOU smile at him and JIHOON breaks eye contact.

YOU Question.

SEUNGCHEOL Yeah, what's up?

YOU Has HYBEHAX always been this… unserious?

SOONYOUNG Yes—

SEUNGCHEOL, JIHOON (simultaneously) No.

YOU Well. Glad to join the team anyways.

SOONYOUNG excitedly claps his hands. His screen lags.

SOONYOUNG Does that mean it’s a yes?!

YOU ‘Course. Anything for my calc buddy.

The man pumps a fist into the air and his webcam freezes. JIHOON audibly sighs.

JIHOON We’ll send you the contract via email soon. It just goes over more generalized rules about being an organizer—attending weekly meetings, making sure you keep up with your team, the usual.

SEUNGCHEOL Happy to have you!

YOU Thank you guys so much. I’ll be sure to not disappoint!

SOONYOUNG’s frames cut back into view. He’s peering at the camera and making gibberish noises.

SOONYOUNG Hello? Hell-oo? Can you guys hear me?

JIHOON (mumbling to himself) …and this is why he’s the EVP and not on Tech Team.

SEUNGCHEOL (exasperated fondness) Yes, Soonyoung, we can hear you.

SOONYOUNG Awesome! We’ll send you the paperwork right away so you can officially become an organizer!

JIHOON I already said that.

SOONYOUNG pouts and begins to whine, to which JIHOON huffs at. SEUNGCHEOL forcibly mutes them both.

SEUNGCHEOL

Anyway, I’ll also send you the Discord link to the server with the contract. That’s our main way of communication. As for the contract, it’s a PDF—you can sign it by like, opening it up in Adobe and using the pen tool. No need for fancy formalities.

YOU (laughing) Alright, sounds good. Thank you guys again for this opportunity!

SOONYOUNG is making cringey aegyo hearts at his camera. Your laptop begins to whirr softly from overheating.

SEUNGCHEOL Thank you for being interested in joining us. Details about our first meeting will be out soon. See you then, okay?

YOU See you then! Have a good night!

SEUNGCHEOL beams at YOU. YOU note his barely there dimple and fight back a smile.

On the other hand, JIHOON types a ‘Have a good night, thank you’ before promptly leaving the call. SOONYOUNG waves goodbye for an eternity before being kicked off by SEUNGCHEOL.

YOU wave and press the leave button. The call drops and your laptop quiets down. It’s suddenly silent in the bedroom, and YOU let out a yawn as YOU stretch your arms above your head.

YOU Welp. Design Team Lead, here I come.

FADE OUT. END.

#seventeen #lee jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #lee jihoon imagines #lee jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #🏆 hybehax #maestro’s muse 💿 ljh #🐈‍⬛ ppyopulii's spotify

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katuschka · 11 months ago

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Olalla Chapter Six 1/2

Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka 3.790 words (revised; April 2025)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): hospital, head injury, naussea and vomiting, depression, memory loss, physical and emotional pain, loneliness, smut lite (retrospective)

Taglist

Previous Chapter Chapter Six 2/2 Olalla masterpost

I'm waiting for the wind to draw apart Those dark, billowing curtains. Then I will get up at once, to face the sun.

Josh, University Hospital in Krakow

—

It hurts.

Beep, beep, beep. The sound hurts. He can feel it pulsating somewhere behind his closed eyelids. It hurts so much it makes his stomach turn. He can hear himself moan and tries to open those eyes. Everything around him is white. Nauseatingly bright. Where is he? In a bed, somewhere. He tries to sit, but the slightest movement makes him gasp and retch and… a woman is by his side in an instant, holding some bean-shaped bowl and helping him turn to his side, holding the bowl under his chin, just in time for him to throw up bile in it. It’s disgusting. It hurts. It hurts so much! Make it go away!

She forces him to lie back. Something’s buzzing and he can feel his upper body move upwards. It’s dizzying, but he can see the room now. More beds. Monitors. Beep, beep, beep. Is he hurt? She makes him drink some sweet tea. It hurts to swallow. Everything hurts. For fucks sake, make it stop… please. He can feel the bile rising again and tries to fight it. His mouth is full of saliva. One deep breath… and exhale. Once again. And again. It hurts to breathe. He can feel the air flow reverberating inside his skull.

He can feel something move around his right bicep, too. The pressure grows stronger until it hurts, followed by a wheezing sound. Then the sensation is suddenly gone again. The woman moves around him, but he can’t focus on what she’s doing. Something cold flows through his left forearm. It’s a strange sensation and it stings. The pain goes away. Everything goes awa…

When he opens his eyes again, the room’s still bright, but slightly yellow. He’s not that nauseous anymore. Just tired. He tries to make sense of it all. He was outside. He made it to the top just to see the ominous shelf cloud right behind the central ridge. The billowing wind should have warned him, but it’s normal at that altitude. The northern sky was still clear when he heard the first deafening thunder and everything around him grew darker with each passing second. He was alone. The sudden wave of panic made his stomach clench…

Alone. Why was he alone? Why is he alone now? He had a fight with someone, someone important… but who? He remembers how they argued about the things he did and his heart sinks. When was it?

He tries to look around again. There is a cannula in his left forearm, right above a bandage. Both his hands are bandaged as well, and he can see scrapes on his fingers and knuckles too, covered with some emerald green dye. One of his fingernails is gone, and it stings a little.

So, this is a hospital room, right? He must be injured. That’s probably why it hurts so much, but not as much as… When was it? What time is it? What DAY is it? He notices a digital clock on the opposite wall. 16:37. Come on, Kiszka, think! No, the brain protests.

It’s so hot in here. He can feel a dribble of sweat running down his forehead. He tries to wipe it away with his fingertips and feels the structure of cohesive bandaging where his hairline should be. Oh god! And he’s alone. Panic engulfs him again, and the nausea comes back, and he suddenly retches again, even though there’s nothing left in his stomach save for two sips of the tea, but it contracts anyway, making him dry heave. It hurts. The woman’s back again, trying to calm him down.

“Where’m I?”

She tries to keep him still, but he cannot keep still. He tries to make her understand. “Please, wha’appened?” She says something, but he doesn’t understand a single word she says. Until he does. One single word, but it fills his heart with bittersweet emotions. Chłopiec. That’s what his grandfather used to call him when he was chasing him around the house. Or them. You just wait, chłopcy, you just wait! And they still ran away, cackling. Ran to the magic room, he and Jakey. Muzyka, magia. He can feel his eyes fill with tears and she frowns and turns away, disappearing in the adjacent room. “Nuhplease, don’t go’way!”

She’s soon back with another, younger woman. “Please, calm down Mr. Kiszka, everything is ok.” That makes him emotional again. He hasn’t heard his name pronounced like this in years. Kishka.

“Where’m I? Wha’appened? Wha’day…” his hoarse voice falters momentarily. He tries to clear his aching throat, but it hurts.

“You were injured and transported here to the University Hospital in Krakow. This morning. So… it is 21st August 2025, so do not worry. You have a broken… uummm… fractured skull.” She immediately notices fear and shock in his eyes and starts flailing her arms around, scared that she probably said more than she should have. “But do not worry, Mr. Kiszka, it is fortunately not serious! You need to rest now and the doctor will say more to you soon!”

“Ma’phone?”

“I’m afraid you didn’t have any phone with you Mr. Kiszka.”

More sweet tea and another intravenous dose of painkillers. Cracked skull… oh god. Time moves slowly. He spends it watching the rhomboids of light move along the opposite wall, growing more and more yellow until they’re almost orange and near the other patient’s headboard. He’s alone. Injured, in pain, hurting and thousands of miles from home and no way to connect with any of them now. Does anyone know? Taffy… Last time they spoke, Christopher ended up shouting hurtful things into the speaker. So Taffy wouldn’t care anyway. Jake… He hung up on Jake, they haven’t spoken since. Or, at least he thinks they haven’t.

Something else happened, and it made him feel like he’s destined to keep making mistakes. He wanted to make it better, but then the storm came and now he’s here. He was so scared he’d die in that storm. Maybe he should have. His chest feels tight. This doesn’t feel better…

A man who looks like a doctor arrives shortly after two of the patients in the room had supper. The rest of them, including Josh, are drip-fed. He’s barely moved since he opened his eyes.

“Good evening, Mr. Kiszka, you’re feeling better, I assume?”

“Well, define ‘better.” He doesn’t want to be rude, but his growing frustration mixed with fear have taken its toll. “I mean… sorry, yeah… probably?” It still hurts to speak. His throat is still scratchy and his head feels like a snare drum, each word a hit with a drumstick.

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asks while examining him routinely.

“No…,” Josh hesitates first, then adds: “I remember the storm…”

The man starts scribbling something on the clipboard, then turns a few pages and frowns. “Well, that’s expected, so no need to worry. It should come back to you soon. You have suffered a head trauma early this morning, Mr. Kiszka. You have a grade 3 concussion and a linear skull fracture, which is very fortunate, because you didn’t need a surgery and we expect a full recovery. Your host, Agnieszka Sikorska, has already notified your brother Jacob Kiszka and your mother Karen Kiszka. I am to inform you that they are already taking…uuuh… action so as to arrive here on Saturday, the day after tomorrow, that is. Pani Sikorska also emailed us the details of your travel insurance, which was insufficient unfortunately, but your brother already took care of it just a moment ago. You young adventurers really think you’re invincible and nothing bad can happen to you, and then you end up here,” the doctor flails his nostrils and pauses to inhale sharply through his nose, for dramatic effect. Prick. “Well, your recovery is now the highest priority, of course, so that wouldn’t be an issue anyway, but you should be more mindful AND careful next time, or it will cost you.” Seriously, what a prick. Am I a fucking child or what? “Now, Mr. Kiszka, do you have any questions?”

Agnieszka… Neszka… Olalla, oh god… Josh’s chest tightens again. She called Jake? He told her to call Jake… She was singing and the grass smelled like soap in the breeze… and pennies. He could smell pennies. It comes to him in flashes, but nothing more. It makes no sense. “What exactly happened? Is Neszka here? Can I see her?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know the details, but according to the report, it was a fall injury and Pani Sikorska was with you when the accident happened.” What? “Again, you are very lucky, because to my knowledge, Pani Sikorska moved both your body and your head after your fall and that alone could have caused much greater damage if you were more severely injured. Very unwise.” Don’t you dare speak lowly of her, you son of a bitch! “She is not here, because you’re in the intensive care unit and nobody but your close family can visit you right now. If everything goes well, we shall move you to a regular room on Saturday.”

With that, he excuses himself impassively, wishing Josh a good night before he moves to the next patient, leaving Josh alone with his thoughts again.

He remembers her face now, contorted with hurt and rage. But then she hugged him as the fog started to dissipate. She really was with him up there. Before he can recollect anything else, he’s given another drip infusion and drifts off…

Friday morning didn’t go easy on him. The feeling of being trapped in your own body is a peculiar condition. In addition to the headache and abrasions on his arms, hand and shins, the strained muscles made themselves felt too.

One doesn’t learn to fully appreciate the physiological mechanism of being alive until the cogwheels glitch and pain prevents you from being you. When the body is sore, the mind inevitably hurts as well. More so, when one has a reason to feel miserable.

Once again, it took him a while to remember where he was and why.

A white room, full of beds and monitors and beeping sounds. Somewhere behind the door, tray wheels clattered on the floor. Two nurses kept whispering on the other side of the room, their words indecipherable. As soon as he recalled all the sensations and conversations of the previous day, intrusive feelings of worry and hopelessness hit with brutal force.

It was made even worse by the fact that he couldn’t really remember what happened after he felt the first raindrop landed on his forehead. Bits and pieces came to him like flashes of light: fear and darkness; haze; cold; a sunset, warming his cheeks; a soothing feeling of warmth on his chest… It was her hand. Her palm pressed against his sternum while her fingertips kept drawing small circles on his skin.

None of it made sense. It was like trying to remember a dream, and failing. It kept slipping through his fingers, save for that one feeling, both exhilarating and oppressive at the same time. Like an underlying current of emotions that may or may not have been connected to the things that he still couldn’t remember.

The realization came long before the storm, and he remembered his determination to tell her once he got back… which he never did. He woke up here instead.

His frustration just kept growing.

Lately, his life had been a bead string of bad decisions and unfortunate events, including that ill-considered sentence, uttered without thinking in his half-drunk state. Not exactly lying, but he didn’t tell her the truth either. It wasn not true anymore.

She came into his life just like a storm, subverting things he thought were immutable. He obviously could, would, and he did. At first he just suspected it, and his own confusion, as well as her evident hurt, robbed him of all the words he could use to explain and to defend himself.

Her body was pressed against his. That’s why she was caressing his chest when both of them lay on a hard, sloped surface, with a starry sky high above them.

It must have happened before this injury. A small, grassy patch was their bed for the night, with only a thin, waterproof thermal blanket sheltering their bodies from the damp. He felt so calm, so at peace. And he didn’t tell her.

“I thought I was going to die here. Without saying things I should have said…”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

Wouldn’t let him die, or wouldn’t let him say it? Probably both. They were both crazy. And stupid. And from two different worlds… but… pretty much anything is possible, right? That’s what he used to believe.

A flurry of rain started pattering against the window, disturbing the sleepy silence of the hospital room. He was safe here now, and it took him back to another safe place.

He was moving his hips slowly, revelling in listening to her short, high-pitched moans. She sounded like a titmouse. It was cute. “You look like an angel.” “What?” He paused in his movements, looking down at her incredulously. She laughed softly, looking right into his eyes, and raised her hand to his face to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch. Heavy rain kept drumming on the roof above them. He rolled his hips again playfully, making her make that chirping sound again. She placed her palms on both of his asscheeks to still him momentarily, and continued: “I’m serious. That’s what I thought the first time I saw you, but it’s even more prominent now. Your flushed cheeks, tousled curls… goodness in your eyes… “Goodness in my eyes…?” “Yes. You are an angel.” “I’m not.” He really wanted to dismiss that silly statement with a frown, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “You are now,” she whispered. Josh was never good at taking compliments. Especially when they came from a position of power, which was usually the case, with him being rather… tiny. Christopher used to have a few cute nicknames for him, but eventually stopped using them, convinced that they made Josh uncomfortable. And to tell the truth, they did. Subconsciously, he always fought for dominance and personal independence. It was easy to love someone unconditionally, but it was a bit harder to be vulnerable about it. Apart from that, no other lover had said anything like that to him before. People do sometimes. Strangers who exaggerate their true emotions because of the momentary excitement stemming from seeing their idol… which is not really him, just their idealized version of him. This was an intimate message, and one he felt comfortable enough to accept, albeit hesitantly. He slowly resumed his pace, closing his eyes and moaning at the sensation, before he continued in a breathy voice: “Probably because you feel like heaven.”

That’s when he really fell.

He was allowed to stand up in the evening and, with nurse’s assistance, made it to the bathroom successfully. They gave him apple puree for supper as a reward, with the promise of solid food for breakfast. Yay for small victories!

Jake and mom would arrive the next day and the knowledge made it hard for him to fall asleep. He was desperate to see them.

They moved him to a regular room the next morning, which he shared with a guy in his forties who mostly kept to himself. They wouldn’t be able to talk anyway.

So, after a few awkwardly shared pleasantries, the man returned back to the story he was reading and Josh resumed his previous activities consisting of staring at the wall or looking out of the window. And waiting. The hours dragged on again, until the most familiar face finally appeared in the doorway.

He had a smile plastered on his face. The radiant version, with his eyebrows slightly raised. However, the two of them could never lie to each other, and Josh saw worry in Jake’s eyes. He looked very tired, too.

Jake tried to hide it, dancing into the room and filling it with his own cocky persona, gesturing theatrically. “Weeell, prepare yerself foh some bollocking, ye olde prick. I mean, wha’s all this?”

Josh just sighed and smiled back at him wearily, then glanced apologetically towards the other guy who looked up from his e-book and was now assessing Jake warily.

“I’m happy to see you brother, but cut it out. Please.” Josh’s voice still sounded unnaturally croaky, even to his standards. It sobered Jake immediately, and he returned back to his natural, broody self. Remembering too well how it felt when he was in Josh’s place, he opted for sincerity. And so the tired smile was back. He took one of the chairs that stood next to the table and placed it next to Josh’s bed, but didn’t sit. Instead, he looked around, frowning.

“You should have your own room,” Jake mumbled while trying to open the tilt-and-turn window to let in some fresh air. “I, uhhh… I think I'll go talk to them. This is just… completely unsuitable. You need rest and privacy. No offense,” he added, turning around to look at the man occupying the other bed, who had no idea what Jake was talking about anyway. He made deliberate efforts to ignore the two of them completely, even though it wasn’t easy. The man watched Jake struggle with the window handle for a few moments before he put the e-reader aside, stood up and, motioning to Jake to step aside, tilted the window open. Then he returned back to bed with a muted voila gesture.

Josh watched the whole show with undisguised amusement, giggling: “See, it has its perks.” He looked at the guy and mouthed a silent Dziękuję! before he turned back to Jake. “Besides, I don’t want a special treatment. Especially now,” he added in a much more solemn undertone.

Jake looked annoyed and huffed dramatically, but stopped pushing it. Rubbing his chin with just two of his fingertips, he looked lost in thought for a second, glancing at the other guy again. Then he just bent down and pulled Josh in a tight embrace.

“Ouch, Jake. Easy!” Josh groaned, but his tone was full of joy, and so was his heart. He closed his eyes, letting it run through his veins like freshly filtered blood. He needed this SO MUCH.

“You really scared me, man!” With the final pat on his back, Jake let go of Josh and helped him back with a grunt. They looked at each other again and both chuckled self-consciously, seeing both their eyes were red now. Jake, after he noticed the other guy trying not to look at them, quickly put his sunglasses back on, earning an annoyed huff from Josh.

“For fuck’s sake, sit down,” Josh motioned to the abandoned chair to his left.

“No, this is for mum.”

“Oh! Where is she, anyway?”

Leaning against the radiator under the window now, Jako answered: “She probably got held up in the nurses’ room, together with…”

Christopher.

Josh felt like his heart stopped for a second. Christopher stood silently in the doorway, reluctant to step inside, his expression a mixture of resigned sadness and caution. “Hey,” he said at last, the tone of his voice still as soothing as the scent of a cedarwood smoke.

“Taffy…” Josh crooked, but before any of them could say anything else, there she was, first heard and then seen, storming into the room like a hurricane that sweeps you off your feet only to cradle you against her motherly bosom.

And that was exactly what she did. “Oh sweetie! We were SO worried!”

“Mom…” Josh sobbed, grateful that he could disguise all the emotions that started to pour onto the surface with the simple joy of seeing her. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t fool his brother. Something was off, and somber-looking Christopher standing hesitantly just nearby wasn’t the only source of all the strange vibrations in that room. But that was expected, and understandable. Surely, it would pass eventually.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Christopher finally broke his silence and moved closer. They weren’t ok, that was more than obvious, but all the things that needed to be discussed could wait. That wasn’t why he came here.

When Jake called him that the love of his life was lying unconscious half a world away, he didn’t hesitate for a single second. Everything is given its time, and now it was time to hold Josh’s hand. He took it in his, still with hesitancy, and rubbed his thumb gently over the back, careful not to irritate Josh’s scraped knuckles. It was a simple gesture, and Josh understood. He smiled mournfully and Christopeh let go after a while. Time.

However, even when the talk got more casual and they all started discussing practical consequences of Josh’s injury and the subsequent treatment, the tension still lingered in the air. Christopher and Josh kept looking at each other in turns, but never at the same time. Everytime it almost happened, Josh averted his gaze quickly. There was also another silent dialogue going on, as Josh kept trying to tell Jake without words that he needed to talk.

“Mom? Why don’t you go get some coffee? You look really tired,” Jake asked, rubbing his own stinking and bloodshot eyes. “Maybe some snacks, too.” It was a strange suggestion, but one shared glance told her everything she needed to know. Motioning to Christopher to come and accompany her, they soon left them almost alone.

“Ok, spill,” Jake nearly whispered.

Josh was tearful. “Why is he here, Jake?”

His twin looked at him in confusion. Not even two weeks ago, Josh told him he wished he had him back in his life. Granted, that was before the shit happened and Jake knew they fought over it, but still… It was nothing but an echo of the past, however unpleasant, and whatever they had said to each other, it couldn’t have changed his brother’s feelings so drastically. “What do you mean? That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Josh, what the fuck does that mean? What was I supposed to do? Or expected to do? I felt bound to tell him what happened, and then he wanted to come. And I was relieved that he did. He clearly still cares. And he definitely still loves you, because he told me! It’s only understandable that he’s a bit reserved. But… Are you not happy he’s here?”

“I am. Of course I am. I just…I…”

“Ok, brother, tell me what happened. Now!”

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas @wetkleenex-gvf

#greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fluff #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka x oc #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #Spotify

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ashleymasenado · 1 year ago

Text

TADC: Pomni Through the Looking Glass (and What She Found There)

@endomentendo, be glad that you have inspired me, but prepare to be spited cause that's exactly why I'm writing this. If I got most stuff wrong including the tech (look I had to improvise the looking glass okay no one really cares if it's different from yours (wow for once I don't care about getting canon right)) I'm probably just a little sorry.

Also if Pomni's name is the same in the real world and digital wonderland, then I'm glad I got this right then.

But for anyone else who's also enjoying this, please enjoy! And maybe leave a little comment on what you thought; I haven't written a full-length story, much less a one-shot in a long time, and I'm excited to be back into my natural talent of writing!

(P.S. before we move on: I might write a little thing based on Endo's little opening comic for in Wonderland…)

(Also apologies if my writing style feels old, I had just reread the original Through the Looking Glass recently lol)

——————————————————————————————————

The little white kitty robot had been malfunctioning lately. At least, that's what her sister had been saying based on her own observations. And this time, the little thing had been moving on its own, all because a simple move of its shelf had flicked a switch and now it was just about to fall off said shelf. When it was close to hitting the ground, it was just barely caught by the only worker in the store that day, Pomni Gardner.

"There you go," she smiled tiredly, petting the furry kitty's head and shelfing it again. In all her five years of working at Cable and Analog Convenience, the little robot kitty she had made in high school was sometimes her rare source of company when her sister was out of town making supply trips. That, and the other two robot kittens on display only. But the little white kitten, which she had named Snowy, was one of the more active ones due to a little floor accident she figured was the cause of her random turn-ons these days.

Pomni leaned on the counter with a sigh, looking over the blank account of the past few mundane days on the computer for the store's records. No one had come into the store in a long time, so she had mostly felt that there was no need to come in at all. But ever since her sister's insistence for her to take her place just a day before she left, Pomni hadn't really had a choice in the manner.

She leaned back in her chair and stared up thoughtfully at the ceiling, desperate to get away from her boredom. It hadn't been a very long time ago since she had somehow dreamt of a strange place, created of her own imagination yet of very real sensations somehow. The little white clown with the giant pocket watch hopping from monitor to monitor and ending up in one that hadn't worked in years… she still wasn't sure it was such a wise choice to follow it and fall into the small screen, with a new form that forced her to question her new identity: was she the same person she was that morning, or a different one entirely? Hey, English class was finally coming in handy.

Even thought it was all a dream in the end, it was a very strange one. Even stranger, somehow she had woken up with a VR headset on her head, which she suspected her sister had placed on her to try and shake her awake, yet it hadn't really helped much. But she appreciated the effort, even if she hadn't asked her about it yet. The whole thing was very curious though.

Pomni groaned, more out of exasperation than anything else. She grabbed the little white cat off the nearby shelf and flicked the switch, watching it move around the table in a cute and almost realistic manner like an actual kitten. She had been quite proud of being the sole builder of this little mechanism, even if she had to use a few parts from their own store when it was only her sister running it back in the day. But in the end, she never really noticed, so it was all fine.

"You know, Snowy," she started, leaning her head on her hand as her elbow settled on the counter. She chuckled at the cliche nickname, her bored smile growing wider as the little cat came over to her hand and gave a small robotic purr. "It was the darndest thing, that dream I had a few months ago. It only feels like yesterday I had become a very different person, or atleast, that's what my body experienced. It was more of a physical change than anything. But can it really be considered physical if it was inside of a digital world? Anyway, it still gave me a weird existential crisis."

Pomni pulled the little white robot kitten onto her lap, feeling it settle there like a regular cat as she began to stroke its head. She and her sister, the only employees at C&A Convenience, weren't allowed to bring in any pets for the sake of their customers, so it was nice to have this little girl for company, even if she wasn't the real thing. "I wonder what it would be like to have you with me, Snowy. What would a little robot cat be like in that strange digital world? Would you be able to talk and be your own person, or would you still be as you are now? Gosh, when did I start asking so many questions?"

Pomni rubbed her own head, returning to petting the little kitten afterwards. She directed her attention to the newly imported wide-screen TV, which her sister had repaired with the help of their uncle. Now it looked just like new, which she really appreciated as she smiled and admired her reflection for just a moment. The screen was so big and clear, it was just like looking through a giant mirror. It was these kind of televisions that they said had images so vivid and lifelike it was like they were jumping out of the screen or they could pull you into the video itself. Pomni had never had a chance to see what that was like, and there was sadly no video player to plug into the TV, so she was just going to imagine it best she could.

"Could you imagine if an image could actually pull you into it, Snowy?" She said with a light chuckle, putting the little robot on the counter and standing up to get her fourth cup of coffee. She sat back down and started sipping her cup, looking over at Snowy who she had shut down so it wouldn't waddle off the counter and fall again. "It'd probably be a weird experience, just like when I accidentally fell through the monitor as if it were a hole in the ground. Just imagine the whole thing—the space just warping around you, like a vacuum cleaner, slowly taking you into a different place…"

Pomni was surprised at her own bravery to describe this fascinating and yet horrifying scenario, but not as surprised as she was to see the lights around her dim and the TV slowly flickering to life. She put down her cup on the counter and carefully leaned closer to the screen, which showed just a little bit of static and that same annoying buzzing sound you'd hear when the TV wouldn't work and all you'd get was said static. But as she leaned in closer to the screen for curiosity's sake, she saw the static was like a misty veil, like a lacy white curtain or the kind of mist you'd see on your window on a cold or snowy day.

"What in the…?"

Out of instinct, she reached out her hand to the screen and almost drew her hand back at its warmth. It wasn't an unwelcoming warmth, like a boiling pot or a fever, but it was a strange warmth nonetheless. And the screen seemed to ripple where she touched it… how curious.

She tried it again, keeping her hand there for longer. Using her other hand, she wiped at the misty veil of static, and drew back with a sound gasp.

For in the place of her normal reflection, of a young human 25-year-old woman, was the same character she had become in that dream of a digital Wonderland.

With a frustrated frown, she tried to pull her hand away from the screen, which she found was soundly stuck and was even beginning to sink into it. Gosh darn it, why didn't she learn anything from the last time?! Was this about to become a new adventure that she didn't want to be dragged into? Why did she ever come close to this TV in the first place…

Her reflection seemed to mirror her distress, even though she was yet to take that form—which she would soon take if she didn't pull back. But the warm feeling of her hand going through and next her arm was almost like rapidly falling into quicksand—no way out unless someone pulled you free.

And with a silent curse falling from her lips, Pomni was sucked through the television screen, which was as clear as the looking glass, before it was as silent and blank as it was before.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc au #tadc pomni #one shot #oneshot #tadc wonderland #alice in wonderland #alice through the looking glass #through the looking glass #just for fun #okay maybe i'm doing this to spite the creator a little #but to be fair #in my defense #he won't stop making his au super cool for like 5 mins #hope you guys like it #hope you guys enjoy

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sevasey51 · 2 months ago

Note

What meds would Connor have in house to handle when Y/N gets sick? Would there be a special kit for it? Knowing a fever that spikes too high and too fast can cause her spiral quickly.

The Emergency Shelf

Summary: Connor’s a trauma surgeon. Y/N has complex, high-risk chronic conditions. So when she gets sick—not a flare, but actual illness—he doesn’t take chances. He’s built what he calls “the emergency shelf,” a designated section of their apartment prepped for the worst-case scenarios. When a sudden fever hits late one night, he activates every protocol he’s put in place, because he knows: her body doesn’t give warnings—it gives out.

The thermometer beeped once.

Connor pulled it out gently, barely breathing as he read the number.

102.7.

Her skin was flushed and burning beneath his fingertips, eyes glassy but open. She hadn’t said much in the last twenty minutes—too dizzy, too nauseated. She was already curled in the fetal position under three blankets, teeth chattering from the sudden fever spike, even as her body burned.

This wasn’t a flare.

This was illness.

And illness, in her system, was dangerous in a whole different way.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Connor said, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I’ve got you.”

He walked quickly—but never frantically—to the linen closet.

Third shelf down.

Labeled in crisp white text on matte black tape: ACUTE ILLNESS KIT.

He pulled it open.

Inside:

• Preloaded syringes of acetaminophen and ibuprofen (safe for port use or sub-Q, if needed)

• Liquid Zofran for faster absorption

• One dose of Toradol in case of escalating pain

• Cooling wraps and electrolyte popsicles

• Two different strength fever reducer suppositories for when nausea made oral meds impossible

• Oral rehydration solution mix, plain and flavored

• Pulse ox and digital BP monitor

• Emergency steroid taper pack

• Spare anti-viral and broad-spectrum antibiotic doses (cleared by Ava and Hannah for home use if she couldn’t tolerate transport)

• And tucked into a side pocket: her advanced vitals chart, with her baseline readings and emergency med doses noted in Connor’s handwriting.

He came back to the bedroom and knelt beside her.

“Fever’s high, but not dangerous yet. I’m giving you fluids through the port, and a temp reducer now. You’re safe.”

She whimpered faintly. “I hate this.”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “But you’ve got me. And I’m good at this.”

He flushed her port, then slowly pushed the meds. Started a slow drip of chilled fluids. Wrapped her neck and wrists in cooling towels. Adjusted the room temp by two degrees. Logged every detail into the data log he shared with Ava and Hannah.

Within ten minutes, both their phones buzzed with alerts.

Ava: “Temp spike? You managing or need backup?”

Hannah: “Prepping in case you call me in. Let me know if you need ears or hands.”

Connor replied to both: In control for now. Meds given. Fluids started. Will monitor hourly.

For the next three hours, he never left her side.

He checked her temp every thirty minutes.

Replaced the cool wraps when they warmed.

Ran gentle fingers down her spine when the chills made her curl into herself.

And when the fever finally broke—sweat beading on her temples, her breathing deepening—he let out a slow breath of his own and kissed her knuckles.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You did it.”

“No,” she murmured faintly. “You did.”

Because when you live with someone whose body can crash without warning—

Preparation isn’t optional.

It’s love.

And Connor was always ready.

Even if she never had to ask.

#fluff #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #yn halstead #chicago med #connor rhodes x halstead reader #sevasey51

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givehimthemedicine · 2 years ago

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NINA and the magic of VHS ✨📼

I think I just figured out a big part of how NINA works. here's how Brenner is "altering" past events.

something just hit me about this footage that's been staring me in the face this whole time.

before I come to my Big Point, let me establish a few things:

the camera codes don't match

s4 keeps giving us camera POV footage that's labeled per camera. we see codes like CAM 071, CAM 039 and CAM 114.

what's weird about that? nothing, except... here are what the tape labels in the NINA library look like:

alphanumeric codes like CAM B2, CAM A5, CAM TR2. not a single one with just the three-digit numerical codes.

k, put a pin in that.

the NINA library is so spotty

Brenner tells El, "Everything that took place in my lab was captured on video tape. Every success and every failure."

but the dates we saw in that closeup are so sparse. it takes only a dozen tapes to span a month of footage leading up to the massacre (a time period you'd think they'd save every second of):

CAM B6 08-10-79 CAM B5 08-12-79 CAM A2 08-20-79 CAM B5 08-25-79 CAM TR1 09-2-79 CAM RR2 09-4-79 CAM C6 09-6-79 CAM RR1 09-6-79 CAM C4 09-7-79 CAM B5 09-7-79 CAM TR2 09-8-79

no idea what a lot of these camera codes denote, but it's not too hard to guess RR means Rainbow Room.

I can tell you off the top of my head that there are four cameras in the Rainbow Room. and one in each corner of the training rooms, at least one apiece in test rooms, bedrooms, hallways. at least one apiece in observation chambers of test rooms - otherwise the One banishment footage wouldn't exist (is that a bit odd now that I think of it?).

and that's not including the tripod cameras with which are recorded close up footage like plinko and the cat.

so, why so few dates and camera angles?

@lilly-flowerr once kindly calculated an estimate about how many VHS tapes would be produced from 100+ cameras' worth of continuous footage for the duration of the HNL program and the result was in the ballpark of several million.

tbf, Brenner never claimed this was all the footage. so I figured, likely, this library actually just houses a pared-down selection of footage relevant to the massacre.

but the problem with that idea is... consider how when we see El get NINA'd with RR footage: she's being shown four views of the room at once. that's already impossible, based on the selection we see available in the library. there aren't even four RR camera views represented on that shelf, let alone all from the same day.

pin that too.

live feeds vs playback

I thought hey, if those camera POVs had dates and everything on them, why isn't that stuff on El's NINA videos? are they hiding that data to facilitate screwing with her?!??

which, yeah. but here's the One banishment footage that Brenner watches alone. no dates on that either:

so I went to look for other times we've seen lab playback to see if there are ever dates.

Hopper checking out the pipe in season 1; Owens reviewing Will's checkup:

that's actually a plot point on the Hopper one because he decided the lab was lying to him about which night that footage was of - if the tapes showed dates onscreen, that wouldn't have been an issue.

so then I thought, ok, if that data doesn't appear on playback, it must only display on monitors showing live feeds, and that stuff doesn't actually get recorded onto it. right?

well here are some live lab feeds: El and the cat; detained Nancy and Jonathan; scientists watching Will's checkup; Owens directing Bob to safety from demodogs. no dates anywhere.

so... if there's no data on live feeds or on playback.... where ARE those dates on the NINA cameras being displayed? there's no internal viewer on those security cameras, like looking through a camcorder viewfinder, so it's not like it's merely "the camera's view" unseen by any actual entity.

so like... who's seeing that? how are we seeing that?

pin that too. I promise we're getting close.

OSD (on screen display)

quick bit of context for those who didn't grow up with VHS.

in VHS days, your video camera (if you had it configured to do so) would put the date onto your home movies. it wasn't a separate layer you could turn on/off after the fact, like DVD subtitles. if that feature was turned on while you were filming, that date was forever fused onto the footage itself. any time you ever played that tape back, you would see that date. there's no way to get rid of it.

osd however - PLAY PAUSE FFW and all that - those labels aren't fused onto the actual footage. they appear momentarily only as you navigate the tape with your VCR. DVD players do the same thing, you're probably familiar.

you can watch the osd labels appear/disappear as Joyce investigates Will's Halloween tape, while the date stays put.

they give us the live camera view of Bob (which has just the date) vs Joyce playing it back on her VCR later (which has the date and also osd). why the timestamps are different is a whoooooole other post.

so now that we're all on the same page about how dates vs. osd works on VCRs,

I'll bring you to the only time I DID find dates on lab playback:

4x6 when Brenner pops this tape in his VCR.

"who's even seeing those ?" Brenner. yeah, that's not my stunning realization. but look what we see up in the top left corner: osd. PLAY.

so here finally is my point: if PLAY appears on the screen as a result of Brenner hitting play on his VCR....

let me direct your attention to the upper left corner of that other footage:

those camera POV shots all say 🔴REC.

those aren't recordings.

they ARE recordING.

Brenner is taping these past events, live, during NINA.

"how do you explain Little El showing up in some of the camera povs? brainwash her all you want, but she would show up big on a tape being recorded in 1986."

indeed! which is why I'm not going so far as to claim Brenner is recording The Actual Past. what I do believe is that he's recording El's memories of the past, in which she is Little El.

"and how are you gonna say Brenner is able to record El's memories right out of her head with a VCR? yes this is fiction, but VHS technology isn't. c'mon."

it's not actually that far fetched! El canonically has a very similar ability - it's been swept under the rug in comparison to the glamor of telekinesis, not used since season 1, but it's well established:

she not only can hear people remotely, but also relay what only she is hearing via radio/intercom to where others can then hear it.

Brenner was filming this test on a tripod camera, which wouldn't have been affected by the cut in power that happened when El started relaying. so he walked away from this moment with a recording of something only El was able to hear.

which is exactly how NINA works. add video technology, and there ya go. if it didn't already exist in 1983, this scene was Brenner discovering the concept.

onward:

Brenner's tapes aren't the tapes El is being shown.

watch this in 4x7: he inserts this tape, hits play, and then we cut to El in NINA, watching all the monitors flash to life with footage of herself in the infirmary for her bullying concussion.

the implication from the editing is that this particular VHS yields that particular footage for El to watch, but that's a false assumption they want us to make.

first, playing one VHS doesn't result in several screens with different footage rolling all at once. one VHS only holds one camera feed. all NINA's monitors can't be fed by one VCR.

second, "Infirmary" would most likely be abbreviated "I" or "IR". the tape he played said CAM TR2, which could stand for either Training Room or Test Room. El experiences 9/8/79 "memories" of both, so I'm not sure which this would be. regardless, it's not Infirmary.

third, as we've covered before, all the lab footage El is shown inside NINA is devoid of dates and cam codes. that's not characteristic of the tape we saw Brenner play in his VCR.

fourth, as we also covered before, not all the camera angles El's seeing are even represented on that shelf of massacre-month tapes.

so Brenner may indeed have captured everything in his lab on video tape, but the VHS library we and El are shown while he says that? pretty sure that's NOT what these tapes are.

it's implied that he's popping tapes into his VCR at the same time El's off in her memories. but if it's not for the purpose of showing them to her.... what is he doing with his?

"but nat, his finger hit play, not record."

well they're not gonna SHOW us him hitting record or we'd guess!

he's hitting play to get the tape queued up to the right spot to record on, which you gotta do with a VHS or else you could overwrite something important that's already on there.

if Brenner is recording whatever El is seeing, wouldn't that help explain:

the varying appearance of El as both big and little within the camera povs. at this moment, El is big because she's aware she's her current self (she's fully conversing with Brenner). this is definitely not really past footage, because it's not like Little El stood up on a chair and yelled into a camera in 1979. after this point though, she accepts what's going on and submits to the "memories" in which she is little, so she's seeing herself as little, so from then on she appears as Little El on the fresh tapes.

the different camera labeling within NINA and its library of tapes - they need to differentiate between old/real/fake/new camera views.

the sparsity of the VHS library - maybe only key moments need to be overwritten

this camera-yelling moment actually is a potential match for one of the tapes on the shelf. it's Sept 4, 1979, and it's in the Rainbow Room. CAM 071 09/04/79 could be the overwriting of CAM RR2 09-4-79. on the other hand, if that were true I'd expect to also see 09-4-79 training room and hallway footage to match those other povs we saw, and I don't, so idk.

the light circle game is the only NINA footage we ever get to see both live camera POV and playback of (although it's not actually the same moment, the dates and cams are different). the numeric camera code on both of these is part of my support for the numeric camera codes representing new footage.

regarding the date and cam code being different on those two bits of nearly identical footage…. what if I... plugged this into Multiplayer NINA theory real quick and said that maybe CAM 126 is fake-old footage that's been more recently rerecorded in someone else's NINA? that maybe that's what's on all of Brenner's tapes before he records El's new stuff onto them?

so here's my current thinking of how NINA works:

decide how you wish El remembered an event and compile cherrypicked real footage and/or staged footage supporting your version of events.

manipulate and gaslight El so that she doubts the veracity of her own memories.

drug her and throw her in a sensory deprivation tank where your selected footage clockwork-oranges her into "fully re-experiencing" your version of events.

presto! the most powerful person in the world now believes your version of events is true because she genuinely remembers it.

by means of El's electronic relay abilities (induced with a buttload of drugs), these false memories that only El is seeing, inside her mind, are displayed for all to see on monitor in NINA's control room.

pop a plain old tape into a plain old VCR and hit record, capturing whatever's on the monitor.

presto! now you have irrefutable original video footage of a past event that never happened.

now you can show that proof to someone else - the government, the media.... or perhaps more importantly another NINA subject, as an ingredient in your tampering with their memories.

so. I can't prove the ol' MindFucker4000 is also a time machine, not in this post, but I do still feel like there's time stuff involved as well. because I can't think of a way right now to claim that recording someone's manipulated memory of the past actually changes that past, meddles with timelines, etc.

can you? I don't have all the nuts and bolts ironed out, but I welcome your thoughts while mine gel!

#long but I promise this is worth reading #the Henward / Victor memory tampering implications.#I know it sounds crazy it IS crazy.wav #analysis #givehimthemedicine analysis #mine #this post aged me #lab stuff #nina stuff

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dreamcloud12 · 10 months ago

Text

if there was a high school au of roblox pressure (part 2)

Alright so since I got done with the student roles now I can explain which characters from pressure could be these teacher/ staff roles :] (forgot to add more student roles but I'll put that in part 3)

(I wanna make this high school au out of pocket, comedy and dramatic ass shit edgy teen like... just a reference to class of 09)

1# Sebastian could be a librarian

reason: with his hight he can reach the top shelf books, with his angler fish antenna light he can use it for whatever librarians do with their lamps

2# Chainsmoker could be a math teacher

reason: I didn't know which subject to put him in so I thought of a school subject that most students hate and would cause the most trouble in, math btw Chainsmoker's teacher name will be mr. smoker

3# Eyefestation could be the principal

reason: he has many eyes so he can see all monitor screens of all the cameras and could make students tell the truth by making them stare into his imitating eyes

4# Search lights could be the janitor/ security guard

5# Puddles of void mass could be a choir teacher while the squiddles are the choir kids

6# Painter could be a digital art teacher

reason: because he's a computer with a drawn on face

ok I know there's other entities but idk what roles to give them

the reason I didn't explain why search lights and puddles of void mass got the school roles because I just wanna get this done

#pressure sebastian #pressure roblox #pressure eyefestation #pressure #pressure puddles of void mass #pressure searchlights #pressure squiddle #pressure painter #high school au #part 2 #pressure chainsmoker

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fcble · 2 years ago

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You can vote for MINGEUN three times a day by CLICKING HERE.

As the Shooting Stars finale approaches, Mingeun can be found in any one of his usual haunts: his company’s dance practice room, the French bakery down the street, any of the many live music venues dotting Hongdae. For this interview, he invites me to the building of his label, Zenith Entertainment.

He greets me in the building’s lobby, charmingly polite. He has a magnetic presence, making me feel less like a seasoned writer and more like a Fabulist—one of his group’s dedicated fans. It isn’t hard to see why he’s so successful as an idol. Mingeun leads me through the building, giving me a glimpse of his daily life. Zenith Entertainment starts on the third floor. He points out the practice rooms of the company’s three artists—his own group Fable, girl band Neon Nights, and idol soloist Jaesun.

Then we hike up the stairs to the fourth floor, the corporate level. He shows me the open-concept office of the staff in one large room. We briefly greet Zenith Entertainment CEO, Lee Taein, hard at work in his own office.

Eventually, Mingeun unlocks a door at the end of the hallway. We step into a small, dimly lit room. In the corner is a small glass cubicle, containing a single recording microphone and music stand. The main centerpiece is a neatly organized desk with all the workings of a musician: a widescreen monitor, two speakers, a pair of headphones, a computer keyboard and a music one. A shelf on the wall displays each of Fable’s albums. Two high-backed ergonomic chairs occupy the rest of the remaining space. Mingeun gestures for me to take the seat closest to the desk as he sits in the chair opposite. He explains that this is the studio of fellow Fable member Andrew Han, one of the group’s main producers.

The following is an unedited transcript of our interview.

Q: Tell me a little about yourself, and how you came to compete on Shooting Stars. A: Hello, I’m Fable’s Yoon Mingeun. Officially, I’m the group’s main dancer. We’re becoming a bit less strict with positions. I trained as a vocalist for some time at SM Entertainment before I joined Zenith. I chose to join Shooting Stars because I wanted to prove myself to myself.

Q: Can you elaborate any more on that last point? A: I guess. There are so many skilled and talented idols these days. Even in my own group, I feel overshadowed sometimes. I want the acknowledgment or the physical proof that I’m just as good, or better. And I’m competitive. I want to win. Is that so bad?

Q: The first voting put you at rank 22, before you rose into the single digits. Do you have anything to say about how you managed to pull that off? A: No.

Q: What would you bring to the winning group? What makes you indispensable? A: I can do anything. That’s kind of already my role in Fable. I do whatever’s asked of me, because I can. If someone’s sick or someone leaves, it doesn’t matter, because I’m there. I’m insurance.

Q: Anything else you want to tell readers? A: Not really. Vote for me. That’s all I have to ask.

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ mingeun. ]#sscontestant #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #idolverse #idol oc #kpop oc

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mfilterit · 8 months ago

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Digital Shelf Monitoring is the Future of E-commerce: Is your Intelligence Platform Covering Every Dark Store and Pin Code?

The Indian e-commerce sector is in a state of rapid transformation, with experts projecting it to hit an astonishing $400 billion+ by 2030, powered by a 19% annual growth rate, according to Inc 42 report. With this kind of momentum and each one vying for prominence on the digital shelf in a market as sprawling and diverse as India brands must dig deeper, focusing not only on top-tier cities but extending their reach into every dark store and at the pin code level to get the true picture.

The Game-Changer: Digital Shelf Intelligence. Why Digital Commerce Intelligence Matters?

Real-Time Pricing and Insights:Pricing directly influences purchase decisions. By accessing real-time data, brands can adjust prices in response to competitor moves and market trends, ensuring they stay attractive to customers without compromising profit margins.

Availability Checks:Ensuring product availability down to the pin code level is critical. Digital shelf intelligence enables brands to verify stock at a granular level, preventing missed sales opportunities due to out-of-stock items

Best Digital Shelf in UAE and SEA.

Click here to read more about the Digital Shelf Monitoring

#digital shelf #digital shelf monitoring #ecommerce analytics #ecommerce solution #ecommerce business analytics

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brain-cells-not-responding · 1 year ago

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There's always something cathartic about cleaning out your old stuff after a long period of being away, whether it be emotionally or physically.

I'm sitting here writing this as i clean out my old room, still how it was years back, still filled with childhood trinkets and baubles that meant the world to me at the time. old jackets i no longer wear hanging on the walls, textbooks hastily shoved under desk. The side panel on my old PC still hanging open with a CD drive dangling out of it, left from the 20 minutes I needed the thing to rip some old CDs into a digital format. Newer things dot the room: a few pride flags, some newer trinkets aligned alongside the old ones, the newer monitor from when the old one gave out, and the cleaned off nightstand to accommodate the few things i need while here.

I'm not here as frequently anymore, it's not my place as it once was. Being in there feels emotionally uneasy, not dissimilar to sitting alone in the room of a friend. It isn't my space, and yet it is. The trophies and memoirs from years past sit on the shelf, a continual reminder of the persons I no longer am. All the people I once was stare back at me.

And here I sit, cleaning them off, polishing the plastics and metals to a shine. Making peace with the old after so many years running from it. I am no longer who I once was, and I accept that. That person would have thought me a freak, and perhaps they're right, but they were doing their best at the time, and here I sit cleaning out their PC, making sure the components are treated with kindness. Making sure that they continue to work for years to come.

I may not even have any of this stuff soon. The trinkets go to storage. The furniture needs replacing. The wardrobe has already been mostly cycled. I'm debating selling or giving the computer away. But right now, in this moment, it's in my hands, and it's my choice to take care of the remnants of myself.

#ashshit.txt

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kawaiiwizardtale · 2 years ago

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Safeguard your brand reputation by analyzing customer sentiments

Monitor customer sentiment with our digital shelf brand reputation. Optimize customer experience across marketplaces with accurate customer insights. Read more https://www.xtract.io/digisense360/brand-reputation

#digital shelf brand reputation #monitor customer sentiment #brand reputation management

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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If you ever had pastries at breakfast, drank soy milk, used soaps at home, or built yourself a nice flat-pack piece of furniture, you may have contributed to deforestation and climate change.

Every item has a price—but the cost isn’t felt only in our pockets. Hidden in that price is a complex chain of production, encompassing economic, social, and environmental relations that sustain livelihoods and, unfortunately, contribute to habitat destruction, deforestation, and the warming of our planet.

Approximately 4 billion hectares of forest around the world act as a carbon sink which, over the past two decades, has annually absorbed a net 7.6 billion metric tons of CO2. That’s the equivalent of 1.5 times the annual emissions of the US.

Conversely, a cleared forest becomes a carbon source. Many factors lead to forest clearing, but the root cause is economic. Farmers cut down the forest to expand their farms, support cattle grazing, harvest timber, mine minerals, and build infrastructure such as roads. Until that economic pressure goes away, the clearing may continue.

In 2024, however, we are going to see a big boost to global efforts to fight deforestation. New EU legislation will make it illegal to sell or export a range of commodities if they have been produced on deforested land. Sellers will need to identify exactly where their product originates, down to the geolocation of the plot. Penalties are harsh, including bans and fines of up to 4 percent of the offender's annual EU-wide turnover. As such, industry pushback has been strong, claiming that the costs are too high or the requirements are too onerous. Like many global frameworks, this initiative is being led by the EU, with other countries sure to follow, as the so-called Brussels Effect pressures ever more jurisdictions to adopt its methods.

The impact of these measures will only be as strong as the enforcement and, in 2024, we will see new ways of doing that digitally. At Farmerline (which I cofounded), for instance, we have been working on supply chain traceability for over a decade. We incentivize rule-following by making it beneficial.

When we digitize farmers and allow them and other stakeholders to track their products from soil to shelf, they also gain access to a suite of other products: the latest, most sustainable farming practices in their own language, access to flexible financing to fund climate-smart products such as drought-resistant seeds, solar irrigation systems and organic fertilizers, and the ability to earn more through international commodity markets.

Digitization helps build resilience and lasting wealth for the smallholders and helps save the environment. Another example is the World Economic Forum’s OneMap—an open-source privacy-preserving digital tool which helps governments use geospatial and farmer data to improve planning and decision making in agriculture and land. In India, the Data Empowerment Protection Architecture also provides a secure consent-based data-sharing framework to accelerate global financial inclusion.

In 2024 we will also see more food companies and food certification bodies leverage digital payment tools, like mobile money, to ensure farmers’ pay is not only direct and transparent, but also better if they comply with deforestation regulations.

The fight against deforestation will also be made easier by developments in hardware technology. New, lightweight drones from startups such as AirSeed can plant seeds, while further up, mini-satellites, such as those from Planet Labs, are taking millions of images per week, allowing governments and NGOs to track areas being deforested in near-real time. In Rwanda, researchers are using AI and the aerial footage captured by Planet Labs to calculate, monitor, and estimate the carbon stock of the entire country.

With these advances in software and hard-tech, in 2024, the global fight against deforestation will finally start to grow new shoots.

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corner-stories · 2 years ago

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the little artsy speedster

Irey West. Donna Troy. Babysitting. Sketchbooks. Polaroid Photographs. 2353 words. (ao3.)

The Troy Photography studio was located at a townhouse in the Upper West Side, up a short flight of stairs and inside a bedroom that had been converted into a work space. On one end was a backdrop and numerous light stands, and on the other was a computer desk, a couch, and several shelves cluttered with nothing but photography equipment.

Evidently, Auntie Donna had a strong preference for Fujis.

As the photographer sat at her desk and meticulously edited photographs for her client, Irey West sat on the nearby couch and made an attempt at her science homework — attempt being the operative word. Sure, learning about the anatomy of the human eye was probably the more productive thing to do, but doodling flowers in the margins of her textbook was much more fun.

Plus, after getting into trouble for spacing out in class on three separate occasions, there was probably no way that Irey could get into any more.

After decorating a page with roses of varying colors, Irey closed her book and decided she had enough “science-ing” for the day.

She got up from the couch and stretched her shoulders, her eyes catching sight of the studio window, and the view of Manhattan outside.

Curious, she stepped through the studio and arrived at her babysitter’s desk. She stood by the chair as Donna affixed her eyes to her monitor, utilizing the finest image editing software available to properly finish her project.

Irey peered over and took in the photograph on the monitor. The image depicted a grown man with a head of neatly combed brown hair, a pair of blue eyes, and a kindly smile on his face.

Auntie Donna had already explained that she was editing headshots for her various clients, most of which were working actors. The photos on the screen now looked exactly the same as the ones before, except the current guy had a chin shaped like a butt.

Noticing the young redhead, Donna turned her head to the side and smiled. “How’s that homework coming along?”

Irey looked down to her shoes. “... it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” asked Donna, smirking. She turned in her swivel chair to face her little niece. “Because you’ve been doodling more than studying.”

Irey let out a sigh. “Doodling is all I’m good at.”

Donna tilted her head to the side just slightly, then spoke in a soft tone. “That’s not true.”

Irey was unconvinced, especially if her last report card was anything to go by. If it wasn’t the dyslexia making it difficult to put words to paper, then it was the ADHD making her space out during class and missing the lesson entirely. At least doodling on her notebook, sketchpad, and textbooks helped her feel grounded, like she was actually okay at something for once.

It helped that her art teachers seemed to tolerate her more than the others.

Sensing the distress in her young niece, Donna decided to speak up again.

“I have an idea — how about I finish up here and we get an early dinner?” she suggested. “I need a break, anyways.”

Irey couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that.”

Donna gave a quick nod, then turned towards her computer screen once more. “Great, just give me a few minutes.”

As the photographer went on to tinker with her client’s headshots just a little more, Irey turned her head towards one part of the studio that she was particularly interested in.

That part being the shelf of trinkets near Auntie Donna’s desk. She had seen it a handful of times before and every time she was utterly intrigued by the collection of cameras put on display. The actual equipment used for photo shoots were kept in thick plastic boxes, while the shelf appeared to be a place for Auntie Donna to display her camera collection.

The contraptions Irey saw were unlike the mirrorless digital camera her parents had at home, or even the medium format workhorse Auntie Donna used for her clients. The cameras were much older, yet managed to stand the test of time. All of them used film, which meant that every shot had to matter.

There was one camera that was made of black plastic, felt like a toy, and was called a Holga. There was another that was made of metal and built like a tank — it was called a SLR, which meant single-lens reflex. According to Auntie Donna, back in a certain day and age most cameras had a mirror inside of them to reflect the image from the lens and into an eyepiece for the photographer to see.

But then there was one that Irey just couldn’t keep her eyes off of. On the bottom right shelf there was a blocky camera that was most definitely older than herself. Irey had seen Donna use it before, and everytime she did the camera would make a whirring sound as it dispensed a square-shaped photograph out the front. It would only take a few moments for the image taken to appear on the thick, plasticky material.

Curiously, Irey reached for the camera and took it gently in her hands. She had witnessed Donna being very precious with the thing and made sure to do exactly the same.

Back at the computer desk, Donna looked over her shoulder to see her young niece toying with her prized Polaroid Supercolor 635 CL. Unsurprisingly, she was quick to speak up.

“Be careful, that’s-”

Immediately, Irey’s finger put pressure on the shutter button, causing a flash of light to emit from the camera and for Irey to start stumbling backwards. By the grace of a higher power, she didn’t drop the device and have it shatter into a million little pieces.

Irey let out a grumble as she put her arm over her now overstimulated eyes.

“Aaaah! I flashed myself!”

Donna stepped out of her chair and approached Irey, reaching out to steady the girl and gently taking the camera away. As she placed the whirring device on her desk, she just had to wonder if there was a much less concerning way for Irey to phrase her thoughts.

…

Donna didn’t consider herself a great cook, but she was well-versed in the art of scrounging around one’s kitchen and making a meal out of whatever she could find.

Fortunately, there was enough groceries left in her fridge and pantries to constitute some kind of dish. Though she wondered exactly how old the frozen shrimp in her freezer was.

Nonetheless, Donna busied herself over a hot stove as Irey sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. It was nice to occupy her mind with something that didn’t involve a camera or punching a supervillain for a change.

As Donna boiled fettuccine and fried shrimp, she would look over her shoulder just to check on the speedster at the counter.

Every time she looked over Irey was in the same spot. On the counter was a sketchbook and in her hand was a pencil, and on the paper Irey drew to her heart’s content on a surface that was actually made for it.

After slicing a few lemons on a cutting board, Donna put her knife down and walked over to the sketching speedster.

“What are you drawing, Irey?”

Irey put down her pen and slid her sketchbook.

As Donna looked towards the moleskine on the counter, she expected the usual abstract scribbles that most kids would make when doodling, or even the flowers Irey had placed in the margins of her textbook.

But to her surprise, the illustration that Irey had made could only be described as a winged eldritch abomination with two dark, beady eyes that had been drawn with so much pressure that the paper was slightly warped.

“It’s mothman!” Irey exclaimed in a cheery voice.

Had it not been for the girl’s utter enthusiasm, Donna would have been concerned. But instead she couldn’t but smile at her little niece’s rather amusing — albeit slightly unpredictable — imagination.

“Oh, how macabre,” Donna said as if a thirteen-year-old would know exactly what that meant. She flipped through the pages of the book and found a handful of similar pencil drawings depicting the same creature.

Either kids were super into urban legends nowadays, or Irey had a really strong appreciation for the cryptid of West Virginia.

Irey quickly took her sketchbook back and flipped a few pages forward. What awaited Donna on the other side was an illustration of a window, one seemingly in front of a city skyline that looked somewhat familiar.

Donna blinked for a few moments, her interest very much piqued, then realized that what Irey had drawn was a recreation of the view outside of her photography studio.

While the lines were uneven and the shading was spotty in some places, the fact that Donna could actually recognize it as her little corner of the Upper West side was impressive. Irey even managed to depict the rooftops of various brownstones and the few tree branches of Central Park.

“I also tried to draw the view outside your office,” Irey said in an almost timid tone.

“Did you do this by memory?” asked Donna, gently grazing the surface of the drawing with her fingertip.

“Yeah, so it sucks, but I tried,” Irey confirmed, shrugging. “But Mom said that trying something and sucking is the first step in trying something and not sucking.”

Amused, Donna gave the young budding artist a smile. “Your mother’s a very wise lady, Irey.”

Stepping away from the kitchen island, Donna walked towards one of the drawers in the room and pulled it open, said drawer being one of those spaces that a person would fill with whatever clutter they needed out of the way.

After rifling through the fast food napkins, numerous rubber bands, and brochures she took but never read, Donna emerged from the mess with a single fine-tipped pen in her hand.

“Here, try this,” said the Amazon as she handed it over to the little artsy speedster. “You won’t have to use as much pressure for the details.”

Irey looked apprehensive as she accepted the pen. Perhaps all her time drawing with her school supplies had led to unfamiliarity with anything else.

Nonetheless, Donna noticed Irey testing the fine-tipped pen as she turned back towards the meal on the stove.

After testing if the pasta was done, Donna drained and added it to the pan with the shrimp. She squeezed a healthy dose of lemon juice onto the food, then added a few pats of butter to ensure that all the ingredients were able to truly mingle.

For a meal that she was partially bullshitting, it turned out remarkably well.

Donna placed the shrimp scampi with fettuccine onto two plates and garnished them with celery leaves, pepper, and grated parmesan. As she brought it to the kitchen island she could see Irey putting the final touches on her masterpiece.

“How’s it looking?” asked Donna as she placed the meals on the counter.

Irey put down her pen and showed off her not new, but improved illustration. “It’s looking less sucky,” she admitted, shrugging once more.

“It was never sucky to begin with, trust me,” Donna assured as she peered towards the sketchbook. With a smile on her face she slipped into the role of art critic.

Unsurprisingly, Irey managed to enhance the details of her recreation of Donna’s studio window, adding darker lines wherever it was necessary to highlight the details outside of the Troy brownstone. She even made sure to properly detail every window of every building that she depicted.

“Excellent work, Irey,” Donna lauded with a grin. “Top marks.”

Irey looked as if she was trying not to blush. “You know a lot about drawing,” she said sheepishly, perhaps trying to deflect the complement. “But I thought you were a photographer.”

“An old friend of mine used to draw a lot,” Donna explained easily. She took a seat next to her young niece and placed the sketchbook down. “I like to think I picked up a thing or two.”

Irey let out a hum, then suddenly her attention was caught by the steaming plate of pasta in front of her. With a grin, she grabbed the nearest fork and began digging in.

“Thanks for dinner, Auntie D,” she managed to say before taking her first bite.

In the span of a few seconds Donna saw nearly every bit of Wally West in the little girl in front of her — everything from the shade of his hair to his signature speedster appetite.

“You’re welcome, Irey,” Donna said. Before she picked up a fork, she suddenly remembered something that she had brought with her from the studio upstairs.

Reaching into the pocket of her cardigan, Donna soon pulled out the polaroid photograph that had been taken during Irey’s little camera incident.

She leaned over the counter slightly and held the photo towards the little redhead.

“Oh, let’s see how this turned out.”

Irey’s mouth was half-full with pasta as she peered over. The photo immortalized on the material was nothing special, essentially an analog selfie of a curious redhead who didn’t realize that the camera she was holding was full of film.

Donna thought it was a good first shot, but Irey was thinking otherwise.

“Ugh, even my photos suck,” said Irey, crinkling her nose.

“No, it doesn’t,” Donna promised. “It’s just your first, and if you try to take more than I can assure you that they’ll get better with time.”

Irey shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m a drawer, not a photographer.”

Donna tilted her head to the side just slightly. “Some people could be both.”

For a moment, Irey blinked in shock as she took in the news, and in her little niece’s eyes Donna could see a certain revelation settling into the girl, one that clearly had not been realized before.

With a sly grin on her face, Donna dug into her pasta and wondered if this — of all things — could be a day that would change Iris West II’s life forever.

#Irey West #Donna Troy #Iris West II #Impulse #Thunderheart #Troia #Wonderfam #Flashfam #DC #things you edit at 3AM

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