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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years

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Taehyung Senario| He finds out you sing at a vintage 1920′s themed bar

Taehyung had heard about a vintage 1920′s themed bar opening up in the city a few months ago. He had been wanting to go there and check it out, but had been having trouble finding free time with his job taking up most of his days and evenings. Tonight he finally had a free night, and he wanted to go out with you. Taehyung had been low-key crushing on you for a while. You two were friends, but he quickly developed feelings for you when he saw how sweet, kind, and caring you were. He called you and you answered on the first ring.

“Hey Tae!”

“What’s up beautiful?” You blush and are thankful this is a phone conversation and he can’t see how flustered you were.

“Ah nothing really. Just getting ready before I have to go to work.” Taehyung frowns.

“You have to work tonight?”

“Yeah. I uh, have two jobs but my second one is more casual? I only work maybe 1 or 2 weekend nights a month.”

“Well that sucks.. I was going to see if you wanted to go out with me tonight but I guess it can’t be helped.”

“I’m sorry Taetae. Maybe tomorrow morning we can grab breakfast together?” He perks up at the fact that you still want to see him.

“That sounds great! I’ll see you tomorrow then. I hope you have a good day at your job tonight.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I will. it actually is a lot of fun.”

“Well good. When you like what you do it doesn’t feel like a job does it?”

“Not at all. I guess that’s why you don’t mind working so much huh?”

“Yeah you’re right. Okay I’ll quit holding you up. Bye y/n!”

“Bye!”

Taehyung can’t help but still feel a little disappointed that he can’t take you with him tonight, so he decides to call Jimin and see if he will go with him because he finally has a free night and he isn’t going to miss the chance to finally go. Jimin agrees with little convincing. He thinks it sounds fun and is always happy to hang out with his best friend. Taehyung gets ready, going through his wardrobe and trying to find something that looks vintage enough to fit the theme of the bar. He gets dressed and meets Jimin in the lobby and they both head off to the bar.

When Taehyung walks in, it is everything he imagined it would be. It looks like a speakeasy. With the dim vintage lightbulbs, muted colors, and wood throughout the bar. The men behind the bar are dressed in older looking suits, with ties and hats and almost looking like some 1920′s gangsters. The waitresses are all wearing flapper’s outifts. Wearing bright sequin dressed cut short, with fringe hanging off that swayed when they walked while music played over the speakers.

“Wow! Taehyungie this is so cool!”

“Isn’t it? I’ve been wanting to come here for so long this place is amazing.” Taehyung suddenly regrets not brining his camera, thinking of all the cool pictures he could have taken.

They both approach the bar and order a drink, sitting down in the available stools at the bar. Taehyung glances up at the stage as he sips on his drink and notices that there is a band setting up now. A man approaches the microphone.

“Alright everyone it’s Saturday so you know what that means. We got our lovely y/n back with us tonight and she is ready to rock this place as usual. Are you all ready?” Cheers and hollers are heard throughout the bar.

“Are they talking about your y/n?” Taehyung blanks at the implication for a moment.

“I don’t think so? She never mentioned to me that she does this before..” However Taehyung thinks back to the conversation you both had earlier and is now realizing it is a possibility they are indeed talking about you. When you step up to the microphone his suspicions are confirmed. They were indeed talking about you.

“Oh wow. Taehyung, she looks so gorgeous.” Taehyung is at a loss for words as he takes you in. He never thought someone could look so damn attractive in his life, but you had clearly proved him wrong. Taehyung feels a hand under his jaw and his mouth is suddenly snapped closed.

“Stop gawking so much Tae, could you be anymore obvious?” Jimin chuckles into his drink. You thank everyone for coming out tonight and the first song of the night kicks in and you sing. And Taehyung is enamored. If he was crushing on you before well it’s definitely developed into something way more. You sounded amazing the way your voice just belted out those notes. He watches you, completely enraptured. Your eyes met a few times while performing and he saw the slight shock on your face for only a moment before you kept up your professionalism and completely killed every performance that night. Taehyung patiently waits for you at the bar to finish up. When you’re done you immediately hop off stage and head towards him, looking rather flustered all of a sudden.

“Hi Taehyung, Hey Jimin..”

“Y/n! You were amazing! I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Jimin is absolutely gushing over you and Taehyung just sits there, staring at you like you grew a pair of antlers out of your head. You lightly flick his forehead and snap him out of his daze.

“You alright there Tae?”

“Oh he’s fine. I think he’s just having an internal crisis because of how hot you looked up there.” Jimin winks at you before hopping off the stool and walking towards the bathroom. You sit down in the available seat, looking at him shyly.

“So what did you think?”

“Beautiful. Everything about it. Your voice, the way you moved, the dress, the hair, everything you’re just.. wow. Why didn’t you tell me I would have been keeping my Saturdays free to come and see you!”

“I was embarrassed.. I was afraid you would think it was weird or something.”

“No, jagi. It’s not weird at all. In fact it is kind of hot? Is that weird?” You giggle and shake your head.

“No I don’t think so. You really honestly liked it?”

“Loved every minute of it. I’m glad I got to see you tonight after all.”

“Me too.” The song that starts playing now is a little slower. Taehyung stands off the stool and holds his hand out to you.

“Dance with me?” You nod and place your hand in his, standing up and following him to the front of the stage. He doesn’t care that everyone is looking at the two of you as you glide around the stage, and neither do you. All you see is each other, like you two are the only ones left in the world and everything else has just melted away.

“Do you want to come see me again next weekend?”

“Yes. Please. Oh gosh I would love that.” You giggle again at how enthusiastic he is.

“And do you still want to get breakfast with me tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay great. It’s a date then.” A wide smile immediately forms on Taehyung’s face at the word date.

“It’s a date then.”

#bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts #kim taehyung #v #Taehyung x reader #reader x taehyung #Taehyung scenario #Taehyung imagine #Taehyung reaction

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dressupdressshopp · 4 years

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Fishing I Love A Good Pole Dance Vintage T Shirt

RESTROOM SHE DOES I DO NOT TRUST A Fishing I Love A Good Pole Dance Vintage T Shirt POLITICIAN WITHOUT CHILDREN WHAT’S YOUR TAKE ON THAT I DON’T KNOW MAYBE MAYBE TO USE HARRIS’S OWN WORDS MAYBE SHE WAS BETWEEN THE AGES OF 18 AND 24 MAYBE SHE DID SOME DUMB THINGS THAT MAY OR START STERILE STERILE YOU FROM YOU IS THAT DUMB THINGS ALL THEY SAID OH NO THEY SELL THEIR EGGS IN ALL THEY SELL MONEY YOU GET WHEN WHO KNEW THAT THE YOUNG YES I SO SOMETIMES THEY DO SOME DUMB THINGS I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW I HAVE WHY SHE NEVER HAD ANY CHILDREN SHE’S PROBABLY STERILE SOMETIMES A WOMAN MAY NOT BE STERILE SOMETIMES THEY SIMPLY DON’T WANT CHILDREN SOMETIMES YOU HAVE WOMEN WEAR SOME STERILIZE THEM AND IT WAS NOT THEIR DESIRE TO BE STERILIZE YET IS YOU THAT BLACK WOMEN IN AMERICA NOT JUST AMERICA BUT THEY BEEN STERILIZE HYSTERECTOMIES WHERE THAT THE UNIVERSE IS REMOVED SO HARRIS A STORY I DON’T KNOW BUT YOU ALSO NOT REALIZED THAT MICHELLE OBAMA HER TWO DAUGHTERS WERE BORN OF SURROGATE MOTHER SURROGATE MOTHER SO I DON’T KNOW THE WHOLE STARTING MAN OKAY SO AND. Make sure to litigate the fact that check this out boysand we didand he didn’t affect his idea about this movieand were discussing the going on with all is after a while what we started I get taken it seriously does realize it was a pretty cool idea about you taking to the movieand fit in with the overall song is pretty basic idea songs about the bookand a movie after that the state tells that little guy with a box on the day he now cool to do it with like when you concept with it also noticed with in a sanity is yet a concept that’s really only telling half of itand then do so many things about videos I think that we still don’t know that work learning about things you do when you like I did get all with different visual things he can do with blending thingsand all the crap that were like complete newand weird so you know the idea was that it was pretty cooland the whole way was put together that’s what made it work very focused trialand message to the family until incurring the going anti now seems to be the site awareand you know Texas about which were by yearand a half takes us you know which is about six months offand then the we start writing salsa wood on the recordsand longed to year is three years already so it seems to be what we can stuck in right now so you know only on 94 is taking time with anything you know you want to just write in the mechanic at the money now to make sure that it’s rightand how long you’re in the studio always causing as much oh my God you know in the long run it is really matter if you’re happy with the workand six month break we definitely needed after that long to her in writing materialand we take pride in his chair out in a 30 sauceand pick up 12 best whatever caseand it would To finally write daily life cannot be fairly quick actually clicked by standards I think the whole brining process took about eight weeks eight weeks premature never saw him it was quiteand I was just like been three years last on the ideas are stacking up was just kind of taking eight months offand all that was really an email the right thing to do because when we can actually like really gung hoand going for some pretty much the right thing to do is fill out we get a couple must account a jam onand I was the cool thing we didn’t get to do that on some of the other albums you have a few of them readyand we all jam togetherand go in the studioand still be writing stuff for the other guys never even played it with us so you two is about the stars maker is a risk can safely say that this lonely can add them off a couple monthsand generally settled in to see where they were going all the vocal stuff is almost ready to go to the next phrasing so when you can where the song was sitting helps like with each person doing drum step by step on the vocals of time things it was the first time that we ever actually counted with a producerand somebody else was kind of like weird at first light when the rehearsal roomand the site guys in the room taking notes of my of those scary first couple days but got comfortable with that he was just as great you really changed much around the song line but it was good that somebody can fit throwing ideas can blend almost like what other bands do refining is a no signing they want a lot of things I regret like a year later Lindsay like the last couple years just to open up your mind to different things got to go with what feels like you can’t worry about what you said four years ago in an interview in Langley look at things differentlyand get olderand obviously felt thing I was even like it was like a list of people that was just like well it is Bob rock on it we should meet him so we flew upand then was not like a huge thing to me does not like people history something being forced upon us by management a record company payroll very happy that we finally sort of look outside todayand for somebody else to help with planning unit was never really a producer in the classic sense of how worried he was more like a technical for super engineer Canada push the buttonand when really cannot say in there this amino real Canada coaching he said at a counter is not a performance oriented which I think it became apparent to those who really needed somebody to start helping us get some life into Iraq Tinaand him Bob makes pretty lively records flooding knew what we wanted sound wise the sign performs at an early screw this I thought I could fulfill that the way you really knew what is supposed to doand the producer does is makes you sound more like you not not taking Bon Jovi ideasand put them on this band is not his thing in pulling the best of value being object from a different way you might sitand go you know how I want to know what they did because you like in the middle of tracking is something like they just can’t step outside yourselfand can looking for somebody like Bob really helpful when Canadian what is your afterand then when you feel that okay now this guy understands what it is whereafter then you can leave it with you Dominicans were a lot more about performancesand going for them the engines were about overseeingand making no major decision you know cannot about that kind of stuff so it can lilies of us to deal with potential to greatly justify the ones we didn’t trust him it took a little while when you finally say this guy knows aware what we want do is wake upand it was cool in any so that the couple weeks but I’m low levels strain theand domestic fail taband select thought unknown failing to agree that is little will pull the simple timing the simplicity of it all you hear the easy things to Gary register saw a different approach to songwriting in a different thing to go for production wising a lot of people have been shown the last couple weeks is easier record to Mason to mechanic say that you know suggesting a contrived thing but the thing is when you have a different approach the way you write the songsand you have like she almost like enjoy yourself when you’re playing that comes across like a different feeling record before then I think all those things make it easier listen to is not sent down to make a record that is you listen to dislike were like having fun in all this attitudeand then comes through in the planeand that makes it easy for you listen to cannot be part of what we trying to deny me heavy load that isolates the styleand how the law last think we really try a lot of that stuff a lot more self conscious if I comes up interviews afterwards sitting somebody throw the question is what you want we do that will make you know we just do things you would always wanted to do things differently than what a lot everybody else is doing sometimes might look at somebody elseand discounted subconsciously save your cell wall maybe things will be differentand wanted to spend a go this way for a while is not to vilify myself interviewsand talking about it seems like what we do things happen in people always want answers afterwards weird analyze something that doesn’t really take a lot when it is taught is getting together you mean it will fit adult looks like shorter songsand conversation taken off five seconds like arthritis source out okay in a letter to this okay like you know 30 seconds later why do you think of things that contain one more more answers in England but anywhere else What would you think about all this concept that’s happening the mine would get sand shooting a band engineering band shooting us never a big fan of being shot but the video cameras okay you get you get professionals out there that their little jaded with all that hailand put my mark on this with thisand this is my styleand that I well anybody really if you’ve been doing it long enough you you develop a styleand it’s kind of hard to break out of that the fans shoot from that basically she was able to see so it makes total sense one thing that people can be curious about the tatsand dumb I was just wondering what you had any that you could maybe briefly show whatever it’s a good bit of the story about what it’s in the means to you yet while I mean these guys here first of all means but through my time of the country infatuated with Angelsand just the the next afterlife or somethingand you know my parents leaving us are earlier than others having some kind of guide in my life because I know I like I should’ve died hundreds of timesand I’m not the only one but I can only speak for myself that I know there are things like after I’ve done something like that was really stupid I could like man made my mom or dad or somebody is it made made car turn this way instead or somethingand it’s it’s kinda nice to see those those are realize those things this is my higher power this is an angel bringing the gift of music to me these are actually my hands the the tattoo artist Jack Rudy he he took a Polaroid of my handsand then he copied him so that’s meand struggle this is the angel bringing me music to help me through the fireand this in Latin is don’t die which means gift from God so this one is besides my kids namesand all of the other many of obviously are not meanings but this one is pretty importantand then Cliff you know this is cleverly Burtonand this is the middle bit 20 Ryan the base part delete duty duty do it on right those people find it hard enough to stop drinking like you to win stresses alive around the I know I my battle leaving the bottle way too often some like yourself who has a polygon the US scrutinized by people unfairly whatever like what you kept you going to be Abba to do to do what he can do what you did set deck can’t be an easy thing is it is tough inand learn in certain tools is important to be on the road especially while you are nowadays there’s a lot more bands out there that the bottles not that important to them or the drug or the smoke of the whatever the checks into whatever it is that sidetrack you a lot is not as important as it seems as it used to be but yeah can be challenging on the stuff they’re sitting right in front of you know in them for me is it I’m not really haven’t been really good at long term goals in healthand long term happiness is was always pretty foreign to me to be happy right now I want it now is I feel like shitand into the drain chair that whatever was always a quick quick fix to use it but if I want to if I want to miss it if I eat off of five of five feed the dog that says this was so great remembering this or if I feed the dog that says do look how great your life is right now look at the crap that you used to be in the know this that depends on how you look at itand I know I could I could I could go back in things up pretty quick quickand I don’t need to do that so but also you went you know the criticizing that the public guide of things like that it really depends on my mood is on a really good mood I can I can take anything at any time but if I’m feeling a little insecure little tired or look hungry or whatever it is or just know fraid from the roadand that’s why we don’t go out for such long periods of time as you do you start to get fraid in your head starts to swell you think you’re greater than you are in all of this stuffand I could do whatever I wantand then all of a sudden you don’t do stuff I don’t need to be doing so keep in keep in the tour legs shorter has helped a lotand in all the criticism he has is people are people man you know were no greater than each other we get the same size souland were trying to try to feel happy nor trying to feel loved simple as thatand some people think if they could put someone else down they feel a little more the ego comforts them a little bit I know what that’s like mad so I I contributed to that psychologist being like that now you know get nothing to do with me so been able to tick tenant let it bounce off it is sometimes difficult but that’s the tool I like to use what is it that so that prevents you from some straying away from you telling it there there there are two sites me on that the one side is I’m so happy here I get to write whatever I want to I just wrote an intro to my apocalypse last weekand we played at the concert the other night all this is awesome is a lot of freedom if you let it you know that is a lot of times when we all can it get hung up on each otherand want to try this is like wool may be no way you know this the democraciesand and now I got step backand think second level maybe that’s best that’s best for us for not all in agreement with it let’s not do it man you know or management thinks while this is maybe a bad idea likeand fighting a little bit on itand then click well wherever the passion is I’ll believe you probably be on that the true passion is the keyand that is that we go with that so obviously enough of that in the band to be Abba to the sustain you without taking to the credit elsewhere I think I keep trying to do stuff outside of it you even feel like writing nothing else matters that was not metallic I was not gonna be from attackand I was just meand my head in my know misery for a whileand they heard itand said he ring it onand so it seems like anything is able to be metallic now which is fine as the other side of me this like well you know they’re keeping me know management doesn’t me to do this because it’s affecting the name of the band so I can’t do what I want here in theand he gets gets it gets single mindedand this does notand I know that’s not the right thing to do you know we got a great thing going here is this this part of me that thinks you know as soon as somebody goes offand does a side projectand how I don’t take them seriously anymoreand not not to knock other bands but say it you must let not Corey amazing from an amazing singer please don’t really know which band e zine at the moment you know he’s got so many things going onand if that’s you knowand I can’t I certainly won’t judge him on that if the if it’s maybe it’s maybe he’s doing that to survive maybe the money thing is tough or who knows what it is but maybe not getting in all the stuff that he needs to get in but that’s his that’s his journey I don’t I know I would much rather I think I think I think dedicationand loyalty it was a long way with me what album to you like what you a young kid was one of those outlets I said this is this is my calling man like what the hell is this a guardian more of it by add abuse set black Sabbath no one out of all the records in my brother’s record collection my my my brothers 10 years older than I he was in a bandand he had all kinds of albumsand email from Jethro told of the Beatles to whatever all this other stuff in a put on black Sabbath that was that was pretty much it like Sabbath like Sabbath you self taught here had the first album put it onand it was while this is differentand I like this you know this is got some cool it’s got some ball this got some heaviness it’s got a little bit of scariness in there but as its next level you know it’s is taking it a step further this is just not regular bouncy rock this is the highlight of the way this has this has emotion behind it says howand help our fear whatever it really has to do with your roots man when you’re growing up that stuff so importantand it’s so impressionable on you so everyone has that in their lifeand whatever bandit is at that time you know for my wife it’s no Phil Collins that’s okay it moves her that she reminds her of stuff of her teen years or something that she connects withand goes while I can ground myself in his music for me going back listening to Sabbath listening to Skynyrd listening to UFO listening to priest listening to early maiden stuff like that it does that it does that for me with your proudest track that you overwritten personally itself that’s difficult question because I think we’ve all we’ve all accomplished some great things that with different feels there are some songs that we cannot forget about that I think are pretty amazing I think leading me is one of those moments I think outlaw torn I think the picture you a little bit of those epic E in a with its cut instrumentals with lyrics really there is I’d say the third verse in unforgiven to is a distant when it when it breaks downand there’s that way around land where you know the little law plane is parting from Bob Roxio in the lawand second were professional now it sounds like it’s almost Jimmy page you know so where we were entering the realm of zeppelin at that pointand not pretty proud of that to this easy to most of them going on stage he says something which is up to the back your head that use of sale as you used to be afraid of on the stage but obviously five that yeah water afraid of drowning them out I would say I think all of us together used to be a lot more scared to be okay with no wrong to be wrong were playing just a variation on the album you can get away or you can just say hey I felt it my best I try my bestand that’s all I can do if it was you know 30 in Russia when we played that soloing in my fingers froze up that’s as good as I could do work at my throat was swollen shut like that I’m trying to say nothing else matters I did my best so I think were a little bit better at accepting how things are in the I’d say the thing I’m most afraid of his probably like something like my back going out something like that on stage wishes like you go downand then the wheelchair comes up at the stretcher SCA will make this one up you know you don’t like making gigs upand I’ve kinda been the one who’s been making everyone else make up most the gigs with’s broken arms are catching on fire backs going out or eating bad oysters yeah that’s actually not remembering something on the website about that is like you seem to have that strength that you two way this way keep on going to get the fuck right train rolling while your bestand if it we can do a show you where human at the end of the day if we can’t will make it upand that’s the best we can doand if people travel a long time ways you know to come to that show that they can’t make it the other dates it’s a bummer but it’s part of life in can be superhuman fuel questions always late but yet thank you I really appreciate on really hope they show guys wealthy guys next to not something awesome displaying a part of everything he liked the three days of living doing this with Chaffin Vicki’s it’s it’s been great also experience I really had tends out good looks greatand stuffed as is Le Havre so that ion thanks again Bob we we dignified man we we love having fans come from all over the placeand it’s no snow short swim man for youand others you know we appreciate thatand the dedication that you guys have for usand you know this is upand spread the word of this to good vibes man in a row to have some fun absolutely thinking that if I had to have a right has to get going even investors came to the aliases Celia McKim on again the 20 validated on the task I have lensesand interviewand married okay to a economic spaceand shows NAM Davis been POC for a movie steadfast but it still see pod people answered all the others in their bestand send them in is a public heand Elder can set up it was in a deal of schedulingand reforming a few of spirituality staying here always in a suit all lost key to get the M Solvay spitting us to form signify such assets need to lean in in in some industrial opportunism it could since it will start to buy on a naming scam it’s speeded in dust beneath these needless to all of you to be ancient veins set aside a DEA area today is okay piano I think is a is the government will be seen as that come to an Anita lost the was awarded mainand said that Kindle edition one minute station shows two super massive be the people at on the lobby wasand for scabies cleaning today get some stated that in some cities to diabetesand take other people in schedule started I put sword at the UK the putting she showed on CD you know you need made. Plane lease you are the first because I get off the plane and the essay looks like hell what happened what happened to our president is is a choice between a job super recovery or a buy depression and depression 401 k s down the tubes look out radar software had a little bit yesterday as Nancy Pelosi will not approve stimulus that so enjoy playing a boom or a abiding lockdown but you’re already down in we got again or go we again you like to the deck is every kind of I make this even a little bit of an essay them in one of the right basket I placed a crazy 60 minute was you just kept asking me and then they interviewed sleepy gel is like everybody his fellows and they got great ratings that’s unfortunate they get such good ratings and I want to do it again now what time of the difference one is a craziness I fire coming out of her eyes I love he says that he said I am prepared by tough questions I suggest be fair know I’m a top is the way starts with by this hello this is about did you see the reporters that

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verus-veritas · 5 years

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Senior Picture

By Cris Kane

Shawn had looks. He had a killer body. He had mad skills on the football field.

What he didn’t have was a lot of money.

So while other members of his class were hiring top-notch photographers to take their senior pictures, Shawn had to search for whoever could do it cheap. Around here, the cheapest shutterbug was “Navajo Joe”.

That’s what all the kids had been calling the short, skinny Native American kid from tenth grade since he and his family moved to town a few years back. Navajo Joe’s real first name was indeed Joseph, although no one knew if he was a Navajo or even bothered to ask what his background was. In general, he was just ignored, although behind his back, many of the jocks referred to him as “Nava-homo”. Not only was he small, thin and frail, sometimes staying out of school for weeks at a time for unspecified illnesses, but raised suspicions by excelling at anything artistic. While he never did anything overtly gay (besides being artistic), he did show up with his still camera at nearly every sporting event held at the high school and he seemed to focus his camera most intensely on the handsomest, hunkiest boys. At every football and basketball game, every swim or track meet, every wrestling match, Joseph could be found, hovering on the periphery, zooming in for the best angles. He used a vintage camera that still took photos on actual film and, after he developed the pictures, he would bring them in to the school newspaper for publication.

Shawn didn’t know much about art – or about much of anything besides football, to be honest – but he did know that, whenever his photo showed up in the school paper credited to Joseph, Shawn looked really cool in it. Not that any photographer could mess up terribly when taking a picture of the well-built senior with his shaggy brown hair, intense eyes, boyish upturned nose, firm lips and strong chin. But Joseph seemed to have a knack for snapping his shutter when Shawn was at peak awesomeness. Shawn’s girlfriend Madison had started keeping a scrapbook of all the photos of Shawn that appeared in the paper, so she could feast her eyes on Shawn during those rare waking moments when she let him out of her sight. Her favorite was probably one of Shawn at quarterback during the homecoming game, his facial features in perfect profile against the stadium lights, his right arm cocked back to throw, revealing just how pumped Shawn’s biceps were. Further down, Shawn’s spandex football pants embraced the bulging curves of his glutes and did nothing to hide the generous endowment lurking behind the laces on the front.

Madison was the one who urged Shawn last week to ask Joseph’s services for his senior portrait. When Joseph returned from one of his frequent absences on Monday, Shawn tracked him down in the hallway between classes. At first, Joseph acted afraid he was going to get beaten up when he saw Shawn walking quickly toward him in the hallway. Shawn grabbed Joseph by the arm so tightly that the skin indented and turned white, not returning to its natural cinnamon brown shade for a full minute after Shawn let him go.

“What do you want?”, Joseph mumbled, casting his worried gray eyes up at Shawn.

“Chill, Nava…Joe.” Shawn grinned disarmingly, but Joseph looked suspicious. “I just wanted to say I liked the pictures of me you’ve been taking for the school paper.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” Joseph indicated relief that a jock was actually being civil to him, but he still stood with his limbs tense, ready to bolt if necessary.

“My girlfriend loves the pictures too, and she was wondering…well, I was wondering too…if you’d be willing to take my senior picture for the yearbook.”

Joseph’s body relaxed and he smiled with relief. “Why, sure, I’d be happy to.”

“I can’t afford to pay you much. Both of my folks are out of work right now, and I don’t have much saved up, but…”

Joseph waved off his apologies. “I’ll do it for free. It’d be a great opportunity.”

Shawn’s grin widened, revealing a movie-star smile. “For serious? Awesome! When?”

Joseph started to get excited. “How about after school today?”

Shawn shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I got football practice.”

“We can do it after practice is over. We can go out by my house. There’s some great scenery we could use as a backdrop.”

Joseph’s extreme eagerness was starting to give Shawn second-thoughts. He looked down at what he was wearing: a long-sleeved plaid shirt with jeans and work boots. “I’m not sure I’m dressed right for photos today.”

“Are you kidding? You look fabulous!” Inside his head, Joseph was kicking the shit out of himself. Fabulous? He never said that word, but suddenly it fell out of his mouth as soon as he found himself talking to the school’s number-one stud. He knew the jocks’ secret nickname for him, and knew how accurate it was, but he didn’t want to blow this chance by acting like a cliche. He backpedaled. “What I mean is, you don’t want to be in the yearbook looking like some douchebag in a suit and a tie with your hair all fussed over. You want to look normal. You want to look the way you really look. Like you do right now.”

Shawn couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to look like some pretty-boy model posed in a studio. “You promise I’ll look bad-ass?”

“How could you not?” How could you not??? Way to go, Joseph, you’re sounding less and less like a regular guy the more you blather on. Just shut up before it gets any worse. “So, after practice tonight?”

“After practice tonight.”

---

Not wanting to be taunted by the jocks, Joseph didn’t hang around the football field or the locker room, but waited in the parking lot until Shawn was done with practice. When Shawn finally emerged, his hair was tousled, his shirt untucked, its top two buttons undone. As Shawn unlocked his rusty 4x4, he asked Joseph, “I don’t know the way, so I guess I’ll need to follow you.”

Joseph looked sheepish. “I don’t have a car. I take the bus.”

Shawn had forgotten how young Joseph was. He unlocked the passenger door and said, “Okay, hop in.”

Shawn swung by his house to grab a few cans of Bud from his dad’s mini-fridge in the unfinished basement. He offered one to Joseph, who politely declined. Shawn chugged two beers as the truck bounced along the dusty backroad that led to Joseph’s place. Shawn had hoped the beer would loosen him up, since he was self-conscious about the idea of posing for pictures, particularly for someone who was probably a fag. Not that he had a problem with gay people. At least not as much as some of the other jocks. Hey, maybe fags take the best pictures because they like what they’re seeing, Shawn thought. Although if that was the case, then Madison should be able to take the best pictures in the world, because she couldn’t keep her eyes or her hands off Shawn whenever they were together.

Shawn liked Madison a whole lot. With her wavy blond hair, big green eyes and porn-actress lips, she was definitely the hottest of the cheerleaders, and she worked just as hard to keep in good shape as Shawn did. She wore her cheerleading sweater to school as many days as possible because she knew just how spectacular it made her boobs look, and it never failed to get him hard when she would leap in the air and her skirt would fly up to reveal her panties and her great ass. It was true she could get clingy sometimes. For the past couple of weeks, it was like she wanted to be with him 24 hours a day. Fortunately she had mellowed out in the last day or two. Musta been her period or something. But mostly, he was happy to be her boyfriend and he knew how jealous the rest of his teammates were that he was the guy who Madison pursued.

They finally reached the top of the hill, where Joseph said meekly, “This is my place. It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the outside keeps you from seeing how bad it looks inside.” Poor as his family was, Shawn suddenly felt like a millionaire compared to anyone who had to live in a dump like this. It had a sagging roof, a ramshackle porch, windows repaired with duct tape and a front yard consisting of dirt and rusty car parts.

A haunted scarecrow of a man with long white hair and the skin of a brown elephant opened the squeaky screen door and stepped onto the dilapidated porch. He eyed the strange truck with suspicion until Joseph leapt out of the passenger door and shouted, “It’s okay, this is a friend of mine from school.” Joseph smiled over at Shawn. “That’s my father. He’s scary at first, but when you get to know him…he’s terrifying.” Shawn had no doubt. “I’m gonna run in and get my camera. Be back in a minute.”

Joseph dashed swiftly across the pitiful “lawn” and into the house. Shawn was impressed by Joseph’s speed, especially for someone who’d just been so sick he couldn’t go to school. Maybe he should encourage the kid to join the track team next spring. Clearly he needed something positive in his life, and if Shawn vouched for Joseph, he was sure he could get the other jocks to lay off on the razzing and the mean jokes.

Shawn waved to Joseph’s father and called out, “How you doing today?” The old man merely stared, coolly appraising the young man and his truck. As a wind swept through, creating a cloud of dirt between them, Joseph stepped back outside carrying his camera and a tripod.

He sprinted over to the truck and told Shawn to follow him. “Bring your football.” Shawn jogged back to the truck and grabbed a ball from the cab, then cast a look back at Joseph’s father, who remained stern and unhappy.

Joseph scrambled easily up steep paths, increasing Shawn’s admiration for the wiry kid’s athleticism. He had assumed Joseph was just a wimpy art geek, but get this kid in a weight room and give him a year or two to grow, he might even be football material.

When they reached the top of the hill, Shawn was amazed by the natural beauty of the valley around them. “Shit, it’s awesome up here.”

“Yeah, I like to come up here and stare at the horizon and think about my future. The sunsets up here are spectac…they’re awesome.”

“I bet. So what should I do?”

Joseph pointed Shawn toward a rock outcropping near the edge of a cliff. “Stand over there. I can get all the hills and the trees behind you.”

Shawn set down the football, walked over and stood stiffly, facing directly at Joseph, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. Joseph placed the camera on a tripod and looked through the eyepiece, then frowned. “No, I need you to relax. Be natural.”

Shawn tried but he was still too self-conscious. He fidgeted with his arms, having no idea where to put his hands. Joseph realized the problem and grabbed the football. “Here!” He gave the ball a wobbly toss more or less in Shawn’s direction. Shawn easily snagged it with one hand, although it sent him slightly off balance. A lesser athlete might have toppled over the edge. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”, Joseph yelled.

“No problem,” Shawn grinned back. Okay, maybe Joseph wasn’t football material.

“I want you to grip your ball and stare at the horizon like you’re looking downfield.” Shawn did as he was told. Giving him a prop to hold had made a world of difference. “Turn a little to your right.” Better still. Joseph risked making another suggestion. “Could you maybe unbutton a couple more buttons of your shirt?”

Shawn hesitated. Was this all part of Joseph’s plan? To get him out here and have him take off his clothes so he could have pictures to jack off to? Wait, he was the one who asked Joseph to take the pictures. Stop bein’ such a dick, Shawn thought. He loosened two more buttons, offering a peek at the pecs he’d spent so much time perfecting in the gym over the summer.

Joseph grinned approvingly. “That looks awesome. You ever thought of being a model, Shawn?” Shawn laughed off the suggestion. “I’m serious. I don’t think you appreciate all you’ve got going for you.”

Shawn was starting to feel uncomfortable again, and the buzz from those beers was really kicking in. He just wanted this over with. “Quit stalling and take the pictures, okay?”

Joseph nodded and looked through the viewfinder. “Did you ever hear that old story about how when the first Native Americans saw cameras, they refused to let anyone take their picture because it would steal their soul?”

“Yeah, I think I heard something about that. I always thought it was just bullshit.”

“Yeah, me too. Funny thing, though. I asked my father about it. And you know what? He told me it was true.”

Joseph snapped the shutter on the camera and the clicking sound reverberated in Shawn’s ears, repeating and repeating like it was caught in a loop. Shawn’s skin tingled all over while his muscles stiffened. Inside, he felt panicked as he realized he couldn’t move any part of his body. It was as if he had become frozen in time at the moment Joseph took the photo. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon and he couldn’t move them in any direction. He suddenly felt an incredible desire to itch his nose, to lick his lips, to scratch his balls, to do ANYTHING physical, but he was powerless. As if that sensation weren’t disturbing enough, he suddenly felt as if he were drifting out of his body – almost as if he were seeping out of his pores and becoming a vapor. Eventually, when he felt his entire being had escaped the confines of his body, he seemed to coalesce, his spirit – his soul – shrinking, becoming denser until it seemed to converge into a single particle that zoomed at light speed toward the lens of Joseph’s camera. He was disoriented as his very being was warped through the heavy glass of the camera’s lens until he was finally trapped inside the camera itself as a shapeless entity.

“Can you hear me, Shawn?” The voice was booming and echoey, like Joseph’s voice but heard from a long distance away in a deep canyon.

Shawn’s trapped being, or whatever you wanted to call it, could somehow hear the voice, and he discovered that he could psychically “speak” back to the voice, despite no longer having a tongue or a mouth. “What did you do to me?”

Joseph’s camera remained on the tripod, while Joseph sat beside it on the ground, eyes closed in a meditative state so he could communicate with Shawn’s trapped soul.

“My father taught me how to capture the souls of others in my camera, then teleport my own soul into their bodies.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“You’re stuck in a camera, Shawn. Does that seem like I’m shitting you?”

Although his soul had no eyes, Shawn could somehow look out through the lens and perceive his body, still standing frozen in position on the cliffside. “Why are you doing this?”

“First of all, because I can. I mean, if you had a choice to be either me or you, wouldn’t you choose you? Second of all, so that I can support my family.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a great job of that so far,” said Shawn’s snide disembodied voice.

“I’m still only learning. But I’ve been on the lookout for a body that I could really do something with.”

“So all those pictures you took at the games, you were stealing people’s souls?”

“No, I have to concentrate to make it happen, so I only steal the souls that I really want. Like Madison’s.”

“What? You did this to Madison?”

“Yeah. A couple of weeks ago. I got her alone after cheerleading practice and asked if I could take her picture. And, zap, she was trapped in the camera just like you are now, while I took over her body.”

If Shawn’s soul had a head, it would be swimming. "So, wait, for the last two weeks, Madison…”

“Has been me, that’s right.” Shawn could hear a wicked smile in Joseph’s voice. “Every time you kissed her, every time she jerked you off, every time she blew you, that was me.”

Holy shit, Shawn thought. He had wondered why Madison had been so eager to give him blow jobs lately. “That’s sick.”

“I got the impression you enjoyed it at the time.”

“You did that just so you could have sex with me?”

“Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed being so close to you, but being stuck in a straight girl just felt…icky. No, I had to use her to convince you to let Joseph take your picture. You would never have asked ‘Nava-homo’ to take pictures of you if your girlfriend hadn’t said how hot you looked in his photos. Once I – well, Madison – had planted that idea in your mind, Madison’s soul went back into her body, with no memory that anything unusual had happened to her, and I returned to school in as my dumb old self.”

Joseph’s body began to shake violently, as if something were escaping it at a rapid speed. Instantaneously, Shawn’s body began to vibrate. Joseph felt his spirit overtaking Shawn’s frame, his lifeforce oozing its way through Shawn’s bones, his muscles, his brain. The transition from his own scrawny body into Shawn’s was overwhelming to Joseph. While his training period had allowed him to enter other bodies that were larger than his, including his own father’s, none had previously possessed the strength, the poise and the confidence of Shawn. As Joseph acclimated to his new shape, the body began to move, balancing itself quickly before it could topple over the cliff. He clutched the football in his hands and had a comforting sense that Shawn’s body mechanics and agility were still intact even without Shawn’s soul. He glanced down at the gap in his open shirt and admired the well-honed musculature underneath. He lifted a mighty fist and appreciated how the folds of fabric stretched and strained over the pumped biceps. Taking over Madison was a means to an end. Taking over Shawn was Joseph’s wet dream. Shawn’s cock expanded to a rock-hard eight inches just from Joseph’s thoughts about what he would be able to do in this body.

Joseph looked over and saw his body collapsed on the ground beside the camera on its tripod. He walked over, enjoying the swagger that came automatically with this body, and spoke softly into the camera. “Shawn, I can’t hear you any more, but you should still be able to hear me. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in here, but don’t worry, my father will make sure nothing happens to you until I return. And I promise, I would never let anything bad happen to this body.” Joseph placed one of Shawn’s hands under his shirt and rubbed his smooth tanned skin.

Joseph, as Shawn, easily flung Joseph’s inert body over one shoulder and grabbed the camera and tripod with the other. He walked back to the house and left the camera and his old body with his father, then strode manfully back to the 4x4. He got into the driver’s seat and roared the engine to life. He had driven in enough other bodies by now that he could practically take a driver’s exam if he wanted to. He waved goodbye to his father, who could psychically make out the muffled screams of Shawn’s soul inside the camera.

Shawn did not show up for school the next day, and his parents told the school that he had never come home the night before, although his father did note that some cans of Budweiser had gone missing. No one had seen Shawn when he drove off, and his 4x4 was missing. Shawn’s girlfriend was questioned but she couldn’t think of anything that might have caused him to vanish, although the police found it suspicious that her memories of the past two weeks appeared to be astonishingly vague.

Joseph also did not show up for school the next day, but nobody noticed much. People were so used to him being out sick that this attracted no undue attention. He wasn’t a very memorable kid.

About a week later, Joseph’s father received a letter from California, in which Joseph described his adventures so far. He had ditched the 4x4 fairly quickly, to avoid being spotted, and with the help of family members scattered across the country, had made his way to the coast via various forms of transportation. He had already had meetings for possible representation as a model and hoped to be able to start sending checks back home soon. (There were other things Joseph planned to do with this body to make some extra money – things that Shawn would never have done and which Joseph’s father never needed to hear about.)

Just in case the police ever connected them to Shawn’s disappearance, Joseph’s father burnt the letter as well as a photo that Joseph had enclosed. It showed “Shawn” lying on a California beach in white shorts, hair clipped into a buzz cut and newly bleached to platinum blond, his softball-sized deltoids and biceps practically bursting through his golden skin.

In the photo, he was staring at the horizon, pondering the bright future ahead of him.

Source: “Senior Picture” by Cris Kane on Gay Spiral Stories

#possession #jock #soul #magic #gss

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cosmotographer · 5 years

Text

Photo Credit: Stephen Gandy (CameraQuest)

The 35mm focal length is the most versatile focal length for any camera system and I’ve talked about this in depth in one of my reviews. It’s a great middle ground for general, street, travel photography and anything in-between due to its balanced field of view. It has a “wide” (but not too wide) field of view to capture your context with just enough distance and pull, while maintaining its composure relatively well when it comes to distortion. This “middle of the road” focal length make it an ideal choice for most people as the only focal length they really need, which explains why the 35mm had become ubiquitous as the “do it all” lens.

This new-ish lens by Voigtlander hits all the spots mentioned earlier, but it enters murky waters. This particular segment is challenging for most manufacturers as they have one major obstacle to overcome, which is the benchmark for all 35mm lenses: the Leica Summicron.

In this review, we will go over what might be Voigtlander’s most promising proposition and see if it has what it takes to take on the great lens of power.

Introduction

When the Voigtlander Ultron 35mm f/2 ASPH was released in 2019, there was a lot hype surrounding this lens as people saw this as the second coming of an affordable 35mm f/2 lens since the Zeiss Biogon. A lens, they hoped, to compete against the Leica Summicron 35mm. Things were looking good as the lens had a more affordable starting price tag of $799.99 USD, therefore it wasn’t surprising that it quickly gained traction and popularity within the Leica community. This price point allowed Voigtlander to position itself comfortably cheaper than the Carl-Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2, and thousands cheaper than a new Summicron. This was more than enough of a reason for people to get excited and when initial reviews were released, people were shocked how well the lens punched above its weight.

People took notice and money was thrown at computer screens.

Competition is always good right?

Classical yet sharp with amazing transitions. The bokeh is a little busy though.

@cosmotographer

“…they’ve also managed to create the smallest 35mm f/2 lens currently in production.”

Voigtlander Ultron 35mm f/2 ASPH

Competing in this sacred segment may seem like an uphill challenge for the Voigtlander, but fortunately for them, its competitors had left a wide berth for improvement where the little Ultron could stand on its own. By choosing to position their new lens as the cheaper alternative without compromising image quality, they were able to squeeze in as a viable alternative to its other German (and Chinese) counterparts.

The 35mm f/2 Segment

The cheapest option: 7Artisans 35mm f/2

Image Quality: Excellent

Render Type: Modern

Build Quality: Good – need manual adjustments

Ergonomics: Good

Price: $289.00 USD

Made in China

The budget option: Voigtlander Ultron 35mm f/2 ASPH

Image Quality: Excellent

Render Type: Classical tones and modern sharpness

Build Quality: Excellent

Ergonomics: Good

Price: [eafl id=”5285″ name=”Voigtlander Ultron 35 f/2 Vintage” text=”$799.99″] USD

Made in Japan

The premium option: Carl-Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2

Image Quality: Excellent but soft corners wide open at f/2

Render Type: Modern tones and cooler colors.

Build Quality: Excellent

Ergonomics: Ok

Price: [eafl id=”5495″ name=”Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2 ZM” text=”$1141.99″] USD

Made in Japan

The top shelf option: Leica Summicron-M 35mm f/2 ASPH

Image Quality: Excellent

Render Type: Classical tones and modern sharpness.

Build Quality: Excellent

Ergonomics: Excellent

Price: [eafl id=”5272″ name=”Leica Summicron-M 35mm f/2 ASPH (11879)” text=”$1999.99″] USD+ (Used)

Made in Germany

From the list of lenses above, Voigtlander’s only real rival would be its sister lens, the Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2, which is also manufactured by the same company that assembles the Voigtlanders: Cosina. Despite their manufacturing similarities, build quality and the strange 43mm filter size, their differences lie in their characters as the Zeiss had quirks of its own.

For example, while the more expensive Zeiss 35mm is a sharp lens, its corners were known to be muddy wide open and surprisingly not up to par with its slower (albeit excellent) brother, the C-Biogon 35mm f/2.8 ASPH. There is also the controversial “issue” that Zeiss lenses tend to render cool and clinical compared to the Voigtlander and even Leica, but this is a subjective matter as there are people that like the way the Zeiss draws images.

Very sharp | f/4.8 / 1/4000 / ISO 200

Sunset | f/3.4 / 1/4000 / ISO 200

Photo Credit: Stephen Gandy (CameraQuest)

“…keeping some of the quirks that hipsters like to call, ‘character’.”

Build & Design

During its original development, Voigtlander’s goal of the Ultron 35mm f/2 was to create a vintage looking lens that nods back to the 1950s when lenses were tiny and lightweight. They definitely achieved that and then some when they also added a modern aspherical element to bring the optical quality to 21st century standards, but maintaining some of the quirks that hipsters call, “character”. The aesthetics of the lens body may not be for everyone, and the chrome parts give off a retro Cadillac vibe, especially for those that prefer a more stealth look like the Summicron. Personally, I’m not be a fan of the design.

I am, however, impressed with its overall size and weight when I first held it in my hands.

This is truly a tiny and featherlight lens.

While the body is lightweight and compact at a mere 6 ounces, its packed tightly with an aspherical element as part of its 8 elements and 5 groups, which gives the lens more of a modern look with improved sharpness. Not only is this lens Summicron level sharp, but they’ve also retained the image quality that Voigtlander lenses are known for: classical rendering with a bit of softness added to it. It’s as if the lens designers went into Lightroom and just turned down the clarity level just a little bit. Not only do they squeeze out every optical performance in such a tiny lens, but they’ve also managed to create the smallest 35mm f/2 lens currently in production.

Photo Credit: Stephen Gandy (CameraQuest)

Welterweight Champ

Don’t let the size fool you as the lens is solidly built with an all aluminum construction, packed with glass, will surprise people with its $800 price tag ($700 new during Voigtlander’s sales). This is a very solid and durable lens. What most people don’t know is that the front filter ring and the focusing helicoid is made entirely from brass, similar to the Summicron. Another cool reason why the front filter ring is brass is that if you want to install a UV filter onto the lens, the brass mount prevents a softer metal like aluminum (common for cheap UV filters) from getting stuck. A Cosina* trademark that is consistent with all Voigtlander and Zeiss lenses. I personally recommend B+W Nano MRC 007 filters as they’re made of brass as well.

Nothing on this lens feels flimsy or cheap and if I had to compare the lens build quality to a Leica lens, it would be the slower, but lightweight Summarit-M 35mm and the [eafl id=”5494″ name=”Zeiss C-Biogon 35mm f/2.8 ZM” text=”Zeiss C-Biogon 35mm f/2.8″]. Both extremely well built and solid lenses.

Weight: 6 ounces

Minimum Focus Distance (MFD): 0.58m

Build: Aluminum

Flare resistant and fantastic micro-contrast

@cosmotographer

“…the Ultron as the lens itself is as modern as they come with a hint of classical rendering.”

Mechanically, it’s not as refined as the Summicron, or even the cheaper Summarit lenses, but they’re on par with the rest of the Zeiss lenses as they’re both assembled in the same factory, built to the same standards.

However, not everything is perfect and if I had to nitpick about a few things…

The focus tab is a small tiny pin, which is easy to miss due to its minuscule size. One of the few compromises to fit that “vintage” aesthetic that Voigtlander was going for. More form than function.

The silver finish on the aperture and focus rings showed some moderate wear pretty quickly and I don’t believe it’s coated with anything to protect the paint.

The [eafl id=”5567″ name=”Voigtlander LH-12 Lens Hood” text=”LH-12″] Lens Hood is very expensive and adds to the length of the lens significantly. I don’t recommend picking one up unless you’re very particular about it.

43mm Filter Size – not a big deal if you already own a few Zeiss lenses as they use the same filter size, but this is an awkward filter size.

Fantastic rendering | f/4 / 1/125 / ISO 200

“…modern as they come with a hint of classical rendering.”

Image Quality

Regardless of the high build quality mentioned earlier, the most important factor of a lens is its image quality and rest assured, this lens exceeds all expectations for this price point.

Beautiful rendering and micro-contrast | f/2 / 1/4000 / ISO 200

“It’s as if the lens designers went into Lightroom and just turned down the clarity level just a little bit.”

The images have a certain look to them and the way the images are rendered with this lens is typical Voigtlander: sharp, neutral colors, subtle micro-contrast and classical bokeh.

What was most surprising to me was how the images kind of remind me of the Leica Summicron 35mm ASPH that I reviewed here. The sharpness is on par but you will hear people on the internet saying that it’s sharper than the Summicron. It’s a possibility and the performance of this lens does show its merits, but side by side, any differences are immaterial in practical uses.

Stop pixel peeping. It’s a $700 lens.

The micro-contrast is also very good, but falls a little short to the Summicron, but overall renders very similarly to the Leica. To be completely frank, I can honestly say that the Ultron is optically equal to the Summicron for the most part and for any shortfalls, it’s so small that it doesn’t matter.

What can be said, is that based on image quality alone, this lens beats out the Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2.

RAW | Another flare shot | f/5.6 / 1/4000 / ISO 200

User Experience

The handling of this lens is close to perfect, but the focusing knob is something that people have to get used to, especially if you’re used to the crescent shaped tabs like on the Summicron or the Nokton 35mm f/1.4. This is the only handling issue I have with this lens as the focusing knob is easy to miss when you’re about to take a photo. There is a good chance that you’ll forget where you left the focus if you had to take your hands off the camera. Otherwise, the focus throws are extremely smooth and fast, but accuracy can suffer due to the focusing knob. I’m definitely not a fan of this.

The aperture controls are set by two subtle, yet protruding metal tabs with machined serrations, where the user can easily manipulate the aperture just solely on feel thanks to its positive detents. I actually prefer the stiffer clicks on both Voigtlander and Zeiss aperture rings over Leica’s offering.

That being said, I wouldn’t consider this lens a handling demon like the Summicron or the Summarit for those quick focus hits.

In Summary

I would be lying to you if I said that I didn’t have my own prejudices towards this lens when it was first announced for the Leica M mount. This was not because I didn’t like Voigtlander (on the contrary), but because I didn’t believe there was a sub-$1000 lens that could match the Summicron’s superlative glass and user experience. This bias from my previous experiences with Voigtlander lenses set a low standard for me, because while Voigtlander made great lenses, they also came with a lot of compromises. What Voigtlander had accomplished this time, was that they were able to build one of the best 35mm f/2 lens you can buy and it demands your attention.

*Cosina is the parent company of Voigtlander and manufactures Zeiss ZM line of lenses for the Leica M mount in their factory in Japan.

If you’ve enjoyed this review and plan on making a purchase, please help out the site by using the affiliate links below as that helps the site to maintain its good relationship with its WordPress overlords and buy the writer a cup of coffee.

[eafl id=”5285″ name=”Voigtlander Ultron 35 f/2 Vintage” text=”Voigtlander Ultron 35mm f/2 ASPH”]

Overpriced Lens Hood: [eafl id=”5567″ name=”Voigtlander LH-12 Lens Hood” text=”LH-12″]

[eafl id=”5272″ name=”Leica Summicron-M 35mm f/2 ASPH (11879)” text=”Leica Summicron-M 35mm f/2 ASPH”]

[eafl id=”5495″ name=”Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2 ZM” text=”Carl-Zeiss Biogon 35mm f/2″]

Featured Image by Stephen Gandy at CameraQuest

Voigtlander Ultron 35mm f/2 ASPH – Summicron on a Budget Photo Credit: Stephen Gandy (CameraQuest) The 35mm focal length is the most versatile focal length for any camera system and I've talked about this in depth in one of my reviews.

#leica #35mm #asph #f/2 #Featured #m mount #m10 #ultron #voigtlander

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tysonrunningfox · 5 years

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Ripped: Part 11

Why are they like this? Why? What is even their issue?

Ao3

Astrid is a believer in hard work.

There are very few obstacles in life that can’t be overcome with determination, willingness to get her hands dirty, and dedication to the cause. However, deciphering her feelings while sitting across a dingy bar table from Hiccup’s sharp jaw and green eyes, holding a beer she got from her best friend’s cousin who now only owes her forty-seven dollars while said best friend and Hiccup’s cousin hook up might be one of those outlying obstacles.

And that’s not even unpacking the fact that she only met Hiccup because he was giving serial killer tours to her apartment, the past tense being because a new set of twin murders interrupted his route with the promise of further interruptions. And then that gets even more complicated because not only did she and Hiccup kiss while she was at work, but later that same night she was with him when they discovered the second murder victim, seconds after she accidentally called him sexy.

Or not him specifically, but something he did, and that’s almost worse.

And she might be able to scrape together some plan of attack for all of that, but adding the fact that he also happened to discover the first body after a middle of the night private serial killer tour he gave her where they were caught trespassing and practically hugging on camera pushes it over the edge.

She’s lost.

And there’s the whole thing he’s been in custody twice in as many weeks but she still can’t stop thinking about how he looked at her, like he absolutely couldn’t handle not kissing her for another second. Even though she was being stubborn and loud and forcing her opinion on him. Maybe even because of those things.

Neither of them knew what to say while they finished their drinks and their interaction devolved into silence occasionally punctuated by people watching commentary. He offered to walk her home, but she took an Uber because as safe as Berk’s new condo developments brag about being, she doesn’t live in one of those.

She lives in yet another Grimborn murder site, likely on a list to be revisited.

Yet another complication.

“You’re thinking about that ship roster really hard,” Fishlegs sits down at his desk, flicking through his meticulously maintained planner.

She half wonders what Fishlegs would say about her current conundrums. He’s got the kind of analytical approach she can really admire, but his opinion of Hiccup is clear and deserved. It was Hiccup who pushed her against the bookcase and threatened his precious encyclopedias, after all.

“It’s complicated.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She thinks a minute, “no.”

Astrid doesn’t want to talk about it. She wants to do something about it, she just doesn’t know what to do.

Hiccup (4:23pm): hey are you at work?

She hates how the silent implication makes her cheeks burn.

Astrid (4:24pm): yeah

Hiccup (4:25pm): oh cool, would you mind if I dropped by and got a copy of that Al, I. Safe picture to laminate? The one you gave me is wearing out quick and it’s smeared not that you care I’m sure it smeared in your fervent quest to prove me wrong

Astrid hates how she can’t deny that her stomach flips. If Fishlegs repeated his concern right now, she’s not sure what she’d say, but he disappeared into the back room to organize new donations.

Astrid (4:27pm): sure

Hiccup (4:28pm): be there in like 5?

Her heart stutters and she tries not to care. She can’t help but hate how she left it at the bar, the weird backward walk towards the door, the insistence that she get a ride rather than walk. And now she has to deal with another random, instantaneous meeting? She needs time and planning and for it to occur away from Hiccup’s undeniable pull.

She tries to focus exclusively on her work but every time she hears the door open she jumps and has to reread at least a paragraph. The first is the mail, the second is someone lost and hoping for the library upstairs, but the third is Hiccup, determinedly faking casual as he trots down the stairs with uneven strides she still wants to ask about.

“Hey!” He says too brightly and Astrid purposefully takes a second too long to look up.

“Hi.”

He pauses a couple feet in front of her desk and swallows hard. He shaved recently, and he looks younger and sharper and somehow more likely to catch her off guard.

“Are you doing something super important for the future of Berk’s history’s maintenance or…”

She can’t quite stifle her smile, “not really.”

“Great,” he grins wider, all crooked teeth and genuine excitement and everything would be so much easier if Astrid’s heart didn’t skip like a turntable in a hurricane. “So, Al. I, safe message? If you don’t mind…”

“Right, sure,” she stands up too quickly, chair rolling back a few feet and smacking into a bookshelf.

“No rush,” Hiccup laughs, shoulders rigid and hands waving at her chair, “wouldn’t want you to break something in your excitement to help me copy something.”

“I haven’t put it away since last week, I still need to talk to Fishlegs about how we’d recategorize it as Grimborn-related,” she ignores his comment about breaking things and leaves her chair where it is, leading him down the familiar aisle between old yellowed papers to the table she set her findings out on.

“Does that mean there’s a special stack you send Grimborn-ologists to so that you don’t have to talk to us?”

“Well, that would be my solution,” she flips carefully through the paper to the picture, trying not to think about the vague wrinkles in the print from his hand clenching as he kissed her. “But currently Fishlegs’s solution is to just send them all my way.”

“Let me guess, it’s been busy?” He skirts around mentioning the recent murders, but it doesn’t matter. Sometimes it feels like all she talks about lately, as she leads curious, insensitive people to documents she then has to make sure they don’t take as a souvenir.

She nods, “I hate to say you’re right, but you are pretty well adjusted, considering the crowd as a whole.”

“What makes you say that?” He cocks his head, reverently taking the paper from her and following towards the copier. The encyclopedias mock her when his hand brushes against her arm.

“You know, there was the guy who wanted his girlfriend to lay on the floor to pose like Elizabeth Smith,” she wrinkles her nose, “but I don’t know how even that compares to the guy who got angry at me because I didn’t magically produce modern crime scene photos to compare to vintage ones. He claimed this was a ‘decaying institution’ because I explained we obviously don’t have access to current police case documentation.”

“What an idiot,” Hiccup snorts, “this is a historical archive, there are obvious environmental controls to prevent decay.”

“That’s bad,” she doesn’t understand how he can melt more stiff tension than she can think through with a bad joke, it must go hand in hand with how he made her feel safe in dark alleys when logic and reality continually affirm she was anything but. “Come on, that was lame.”

“It got a smile,” he says, self-satisfied but not smug, and his eyes narrow when he sees the copier, “we meet again, old friend.”

“What?”

“The copier and I have history, remember? I tried to copy a comic book three years ago and jammed it up,” he sets the paper down picture up on the work table and pats the top of the copier with a careful hand, “the foundation of Fishlegs and my blood feud, as you put it.”

“Right,” she takes the paper and carefully folds it back to align the picture with the corner, “maybe I should press the buttons then, I wouldn’t want to involve myself in that drama.”

The copier is probably older than some of the archive’s collections and it takes a minute to turn on, its wheezing fan turning the silence awkward as Astrid’s worries whir back to life along with it. Hiccup is alternating between staring at his feet and the side of her face, brows furrowed.

“Thanks for letting me come by, by the way, and for the picture. And for finding the picture, in the first place, even though you were only doing it to prove me wrong, which you did, it clearly does have punctuation—but that’s not what I mean.” He doesn’t pause to breathe so much as to let the mental gears behind his eyes rotate fully so that he can pick back up where he got off track. “I uh…I guess I understand all the very real reasons you probably want nothing to do with me—”

“What?” She turns to face him, frowning.

“I’m just saying I get it, and I appreciate you being cool about it even as I’m…practically having a spasm over here trying to talk to you,” he laughs, high pitched and nasal, his arms flailing and smacking the copier. It coughs and she has to press the start button again. “And considering the size and scale of ass I made of myself at Gruff’s the other day, I get that other things that might have ummm…been said or occurred are likely voided, as it were—not that there was any kind of contract when you said and did them, I was just amazed someone as, you know, astounding as you seemed to be starting to like me, maybe—”

“Hiccup,” she reflexively puts her hand on his shoulder, sure that if she doesn’t hold him down he’ll vibrate into another dimension, “I let you give tours to my apartment, do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”

“Oh,” he thinks on that for a second, eyes darting to her hand on his shoulder, and she carefully retracts it, flushing as he half smiles. She gets that bone deep feeling she’s going to regret what she just said as he opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and presses his lips together in a tight line.

The copier spits out a single, un-smeared picture and he reaches for it, already leaning away from her like he’s planning a great escape. That isn’t allowed and she grabs it before he can, setting it on the small table behind her and crossing her arms.

“What’s your problem, Hiccup?”

“Problem?” He blinks, long eyelashes adding to the innocent façade, “I wouldn’t say I have a problem, I think I just—the long and short of it is I met someone really…amazing, but I pissed her off before I even officially met her and for some reason she forgave me enough to go on a private tour with me and it felt—I don’t know, like we—but it doesn’t matter, probably, because then there was a murder. Except maybe it does matter because then we kissed and it was,” he’s so red he’s practically glowing but his frantic energy is dissipating with every word, like he’s exorcising himself of it, “and then we found another murder victim, together, which isn’t my ideal date or not date or…activity.”

“Mine either.”

“It’s not the association I really wanted, you know?” He winces but his chuckle is real, “but at the same time I don’t blame you if you look at me and see, you know, a modern times Grimborn murder re-enactment scene.”

“I don’t,” she looks at him a little too hard, taking in his open, nervous expression and the hope there that he’s trying and failing to put out. “You know, your problem sounds pretty similar to a problem I’m having right now.”

“Yeah?” He isn’t bad at pretending to relax, but his stiff upper body doesn’t fool her, “did me blurting it all out like an idiot help?”

“Maybe,” her small smile feels tired, “at least we’re on the same page.”

“That’s all I’ve been hoping for since you found this picture,” he points at his copy, “which is still amazing, by the way, I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

“Just another thing wrapped up in Grimborn.” She shakes her head, “my apartment, my job, my…” She looks at him importantly, fumbling for a word that could encompass everything he just said and the way she feels when she looks at him. Excited and comfortable at all the wrong times.

“So we just don’t talk about Grimborn then,” Hiccup shrugs, shoulders forcefully easy as he leans back against the copier, knuckles white where his hands are gripping his upper arms.

“What else are we going to talk about?” Astrid pulls the original Enquirer out of the copier and folds it carefully on the table next to it, trying not to feel his eyes boring into the side of her head.

She knows he doesn’t ignore advantages and this time it makes her hold her breath.

“We could talk about the fact that you like me,” his voice dips at the end, conspiratorial, and Astrid can’t shake the feeling that the papers are listening, adding information to their tightly stacked volumes and storing it for later. “I’m kind of still wondering how I managed that.”

“Who says it’s not your Grimborn knowledge?” She wishes he was wearing the hat. The hat makes him bold and winking and silly, an act she can act back at. He’s vulnerable in an unzipped jacket and band tee-shirt she wants to ask him about and it’s an invitation to be vulnerable too.

She usually clicks tentative yes on those, hoping people get it means no.

“I thought we weren’t talking about him.”

Astrid can imagine all of those stories in all of those papers, all the people largely forgotten and lost in their own environmentally controlled, ink preserving worlds, turning away out of a well-deserved kind of respect. She keeps their secrets legible after all, the least they can do is keep her secret.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can be a little intense,” she edges closer, finger messing with the copier buttons while she drags her eyes to his. Green even in the dingy corner of the room, soft and shy and locked on hers like he’s not going to let either of those things stop him.

“A little?” The corner of his mouth quirks into a quiet half smile, eyes squinting with that eternal curiosity that feels heavy and light and warm when directed at her. She could bring up Grimborn and re-direct it, but as convenient as that would be, she doesn’t want to.

“Most people want me to back off,” she tucks her hair behind her ear and watches him suppress a smile, “you don’t.”

“Back off? As in decrease the intensity?” He laughs, long arms flailing, hand brushing her arm and shrinking back, cautious and hopeful and jittery. “Never, why would—if anything increase it. More is better, right?”

She lets it hang long enough for him to get nervous, for the hope to condense into worry and indecision and the urge to open his mouth to keep convincing, “more intense then, is what you’re saying?”

“I umm,” he clears his throat, eyes scanning her face like he’s checking that she’s real and giving her reason to prove that she is, “wouldn’t mind. I welcome it, actually.”

Somehow, he still manages to be surprised when she grabs the back of his neck to pull him down to her, hands flailing and hitting the copier again when she kisses him.

Astrid will never admit to anyone, personalities trapped in hundred-year-old papers included, how many hours of sleep she lost not to thinking about murder, but to lamenting the fact that Hiccup kissed her before she kissed him. The cheek doesn’t count, that was impulsive and embarrassing and looking back with what she knows now, everything would be a lot less complicated if she’d acted on her full impulse then.

He wouldn’t have been stumbling on a body fifteen minutes later, for a start.

Kissing him first is better, she likes his shocked pause and sharp inhalation against her cheek before coming back to life with soft, careful lips.

It’s good for a lot of reasons that Hiccup recovers quickly from shock, but right now the only one that matters is his hands settling warm on her hips and pulling her closer. He kisses like he talks, meandering and endless, lips pressing trailing anecdotes along her jaw while she desperately wants him to get to the point.

The copier creaks and chimes when she leans harder against him, one hand in his hair and the other sliding under his jacket to feel the sharp lines of his shoulder blades. He feels stronger than he looks and his light grip on her hips feels teasing, half the story when she needs it all now. She nips at his lower lip to hurry him along and he manages to stumble while standing still, fingers digging into her sides for support at the sharp snap of breaking plastic behind him.

“Shit,” Astrid pulls back and Hiccup kisses down her neck, nose dragging along the collar of her shirt and making her shiver, “we’re breaking the copier.”

“I’ve fixed it before,” his breath is cool against the damp trail he left under her jaw and she closes her eyes, willing herself to pull back.

“Astrid is the one to talk about Grimborn with, it’s not really my specialty,” Fishlegs voice shatters the tension and she stands up too fast, straightening her shirt and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Hiccup is not as quick, staring at her with a dazed, open expression, lips kiss swollen and hair sticking up on one side. She grabs his hand and pulls him away from the copier, swearing when one of the plastic trim pieces clatters to the floor, the clips on one side snapped off.

“Fix it fast,” she shoves it into his limp hands, trying and failing to pat down his hair as another voice joins Fishlegs’s.

“Ah yes, Astrid, I’ve been waiting to meet her,” it’s accented and polite, but something about it sends a chill up Astrid’s spine that has nothing to do with Hiccup struggling to make the trim piece stay in place.

“Oh?” Fishlegs is defensive, again, and she’s really going to have to talk to him about that.

“For the investigation.”

“Do you have duct tape?” Hiccup whispers, but it’s too late as Fishlegs is coming around the corner with a tall man in a gray uniform that matches the sinister undertone in his voice. Hiccup thinks fast and leans back against the copier again, holding the trim piece in place and waving at the newcomers.

“Hey Fishlegs,” he says brightly, despite Fishlegs’s scowl, and then his voice drops flat and unimpressed, “Mr. Grisly.”

“I should have expected to find you two together again,” the man in gray holds out his hand and when Astrid shakes it, it’s icy, not even vital enough to be clammy. “Mr. Grisly, head of the Neighborhood Watch Force, I’ve been invited to help investigate the recent murders and I understand you were unlucky enough to encounter a victim.”

“Yes,” she resists the urge to wipe her hand on her pants when he lets go, “I gave my statement to the police.”

“Of course, I’ve read it.” His grin is as dead as his touch, everything animated about him condensed in his eyes. “You have an interesting perspective on all of these unfortunate happenings.”

Saying luck and fortune too many times too close together makes them sound like badly veiled intention.

“I wouldn’t say I have much of a perspective at all,” Astrid shrugs, tucking her hands in her pockets, “all of it is in that statement.”

“You were hear to ask about Grimborn,” Fishlegs cuts into the conversation and Astrid is surprised that she doesn’t mind his protective tone for once, “I can actually help you with that.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing your help, not with the real Hiccup Haddock expert right here.” Mr. Grisly gestures at Hiccup with those waxy fingers and he raises his eyebrows, shifting against the copier with a scrape of plastic that would be funny and awkward in any other tense situation. Here though, it just sounds like a pin dropping during a stealth mission, a weakness on display to someone looking out for one.

“I wouldn’t call myself a Hiccup Haddock expert,” Hiccup laughs, deflecting, “I know myself maybe a five out of ten at best, you might want to talk to Officer Jorgenson about that one.”

“I was speaking of the Viggo Grimborn suspect Admiral Hiccup Haddock,” Grisly’s chuckle is gravel thrown through a window, all solid malice and sharp edges, “although it does inform the current case to hear how clueless you are about your own actions.”

“Not my actions so much as my intentions,” Hiccup blanches, shrugging like there’s some hope of pulling this situation back towards the casual. “And my reasoning. Basically my trajectory in life, but I’m pretty solid on my own actions. What do you want to know about Admiral Haddock?”

“I’m just curious about the connection.”

“There’s no connection, the original book is fiction,” he elbows Astrid for corroboration, “right? You’ve read it.”

“Bad fiction,” she agrees and Mr. Grisly smiles.

“My favorite. Can you recommend me a version?”

“Uh,” Hiccup looks at Astrid out of the corner of his eye, realizing he’ll have to move, and she tries to look casual putting her hand on the piece of loose trim. Her fingers brush a little low on his back when she does and she can’t hide her blush with a stoic expression so she just tries to avoid Fishlegs’s eyeline. “Sure, I know where they are in the library upstairs.”

“How helpful,” Grisly’s approximation of delight is more menacing for his dedication to it.

“Anything for the investigation,” Hiccup steps carefully away from the copier and looks at Astrid seriously for a second, “talk to you later?”

“I’m sure you will,” Grisly and Fishlegs say in unison with exact opposite intonation, Fishlegs’s arms crossed as he purposefully stands in the way and forces Hiccup to walk around him on the way to the stairs.

Hiccup and Mr. Grisly are barely out of sight when the other side of the copier trim pops free, waving in mid-air.

“And he broke the copier, again.”

Astrid sighs, taking the trim piece off and setting it on top of the machine, “to be fair, we both had a part in that.”

“He broke the copier,” Fishlegs raises an eyebrow, “and I told you to check out a study room.”

“Nothing happened, we were just…arguing about Grimborn.” She rubs the back of her neck, willing the heat to dissipate from under her hair.

“Right, that always gives me a hickey,” he looks pointedly at her neck and she pulls her hair forward to cover it.

“It won’t happen again,” she nods, “and he said he can fix it.” She doesn’t mention the duct tape comment, there’s no way that would go over well. They don’t even have scotch tape at their desks because glue and old documents is such a bad combination.

“What do you see in that guy anyway?” Fishlegs oversteps, yet again, but Astrid’s almost glad that someone finally asked. “You used to be so determined to get him away from you, what changed? And why does he have to be here so often?”

The last question dents her last clinging scrap of resolve and she lets it go.

“Has anyone ever thought you were a little too academic, Fish?” She tries out the nickname, letting this feel like friendship even though that risks more awkward questions.

He snorts, “there was a time in elementary school that I legitimately thought my middle name was ‘get your nose out of that book, young man’.”

“One second it was something to be proud of that I was the first Hofferson to go to college,” she shrugs, faking noncommittal even though that word has never applied to her, “but when I came back having learned things, suddenly I was uppity, disrespectful. Hiccup…he seems to like it when I’m right. He doesn’t even mind when I’m loud about it.”

“Here I thought we were bonding,” Fishlegs smiles, “I thought you were finally going to admit you’re just fascinated with the top hat.”

“You caught me,” she punches him in the arm and he winces, “come on, that did not hurt.”

“I barely know you Astrid, and I’m as sure that you are freakishly strong as I am that you aren’t uppity or disrespectful,” he rubs his arm and weighs that, “well, disrespectful to priceless collections of Brittanicas, maybe—“

“Shut up about the encyclopedias or I’ll hit you again,” the threat is empty and friendly and final, getting Fishlegs off of her mind and letting her wonder about Mr. Grisly with her full attention. She doesn’t hesitate as much as she would have thought before texting Snotlout, hoping for a little illumination, as he doesn’t seem very good at keeping his mouth shut.

Astrid (5:02pm): some guy calling himself Mr. Grisly just came by my work

He doesn’t answer right away and she tries to focus on work, but documentation isn’t really holding her attention after all that happened in the last hour. Especially knowing Hiccup is just upstairs with ostensibly the creepiest man she’s ever met while her lips are still tingling from that kiss.

“So this is the glamorous job that lets you afford your own place,” Ruffnut interrupts, strolling down the stairs and perching on the edge of Astrid’s desk, wrinkling the corner of an old shipping manifesto.

Seeing Ruffnut hasn’t brought on so much relief since that first night in her apartment when someone downstairs started yelling murder.

“My job is to keep stuff like this safe,” Astrid pokes her friend’s butt until she scoots off of the paper and then sets a heavy book on it to press the creases flat. “And my apartment is cheap. What’s up?”

“Tuff needed to drop off a check upstairs so I thought I’d come say hi, like the thoughtful and attentive friend that I am.” Ruffnut’s smile says otherwise and Astrid sighs, still ultimately glad for the distraction. Her eyes were starting to glaze over trying to find a reason to name a stupid shipping manifesto for thirty bushels of apples as important in any way, especially when so many other things obviously are.

“You’re here to brag.” Astrid doesn’t expect the flash of frustration, bordering on jealousy, given that she and Hiccup have been on however many not dates by now and Ruffnut is the smug one.

“I was going to say gloat but brag works too,” she laughs, “also, I did forget to get his number so if you could help me out with that…”

“You’re telling me you never found a moment of pause to get his number?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, gloat is a better fit, I see that now.” Astrid’s phone rings, Officer Snotlout Jorgenson flashing on the screen, “speak of the devil.”

“Wait, why’s he calling you?” Ruffnut tries to snatch the phone but Astrid beats her to it, “he should be calling me.”

“Then you should have given him your number,” she picks up, too aware of Ruffnut leaning down on the other side of the phone to listen, “what’s up?”

“I’m not actually a weirdo who calls people, I just don’t want a written record of bitching about Grisly as long as I have to see his stupid face at work every day,” Snotlout starts, “what was he doing talking to you?”

“Just asking about the investigation,” Astrid glares at Ruffnut, turning her office chair away so to try and minimize the eavesdropping. It seems smart given she can’t trust Ruffnut not to run around threatening disembowelment. “The investigation that you’re calling about, the one with the current murders and I happened to find one of the bodies, so it pertains to me.” She drives in the point.

“Duh, Astrid, keep up,” Snotlout laughs and she grits her teeth.

“Not having a problem with that, thanks, but who is this Grisly guy?”

“Thought you were all caught up,” he teases but apparently thinks better of it and continues, “no but it’s probably good you know because Hiccup won’t remember not to antagonize those NWF fucks—“

“NWF?”

“Again, since you’re so caught up, I’ll pause and explain that Grisly douche is the leader of these pseudo-police assholes acting like they own the place because a few condo developers are paying him out the ass to keep the streets clean, because apparently public cops aren’t good enough for rich people.”

Astrid groans internally, remembering Hiccup mouthing off while trying not to remember his mouth.

“Well, I wish I’d known that a minute ago because he left with Hiccup—“

“Shit,” Snotlout sighs, “I love the guy but keeping him out of jail is a full time job.”

“Ugh, you guys bonding over your boyfriend being an idiot is boring,” Ruffnut groans, “give me the phone, I’ll ask for his number.”

“No,” Astrid shushes her, but it’s too late.

“Is that Ruffnut? Is she there with you?”

“No.”

“Give her your phone, I have to tell her something,” he pushes and Astrid rubs her temple.

“Is it your number? Because then I could stop being your go-between.”

“Nah, it’s about last weekend—“

“No, I’m hanging up now,” Astrid doesn’t wait for an answer before doing exactly that and turning back to Ruffnut. “Are you done gloating?”

“Since I can tell you’re done listening to it, sure,” she shrugs, “the gloating was mostly just a bonus anyway, I was going to ask if you wanted a ride home.”

That’s almost sweet enough to mute her annoyance and she starts to thank her for the offer and decline, but then she thinks of what Snotlout said and the hollow, manic look in Grisly’s eyes. The idea of him being in command of people doesn’t scare her, but it makes her nervous. She’s never been less sure that this whole situation is only going to get worse and she hates it.

“Sure, I’ll take a ride, I was just about to pack up anyway.” Astrid declines an immediate call back from Snotlout and texts Hiccup instead.

Astrid (5:21pm): how’d that go?

“Sweet, more time to get that number out of you,” Ruffnut grabs Astrid’s bag for her.

“Not a chance.”

#ripped #hiccstrid fic #modern au #serial killer tour guide au #hiccstrid #tw copier abuse

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ghostflowerdreams · 5 years

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What Is The Time Period In The Devil May Cry Series?

From what I’ve gathered the Devil May Cry series takes place in a Retro Universe -- basically where retro, vintage or antiquated technology, styles and aesthetics are still used, but which otherwise is or at least resembles The Present Day. Often cultural styles from different time periods are mixed and matched, usually with those that date no later than The '60s or so.

This makes sense as the technology in the series varies. For example, in Dante’s office he has a rotary phone, a boombox, a jukebox and a old color TV (in the anime). Later on in the series Nero shows up with some modernized-looking cordless headphones. This makes it hard to pin point the time period with just the few pieces of technology we’ve seen in the series. There’s also the possibility that Dante is just too poor to upgrade (or he doesn’t bother with it because his stuff keep getting broken every time). But that doesn’t explain why the rest of the DMC world isn’t up-to-date with modern inventions either.

In Devil May Cry 5 each of the characters used telephone booths to make their calls. But when Nero was at the fancy-looking hotel, he made his call with a rotary phone. However, with Nico in order to receive those calls from him, she used what looked like one of those first ever mobile phone (which probably took hours to charge, lasted 35 minutes or so, and cost a lot too). Or it could have been a satellite phone? At that point, it was clear that the DMC world isn’t modeled after a particular time period and it’s not going for realism either.

After all, modern cell phones would have been a thing for them by now and even computers. Instead, it borrow things from different time periods to create a retro and aesthetic pleasing game for us to enjoy. With a bit of digging around I also found out that Hiroyuki Kobayashi (the producer of DMC1, DMC4 and the DMC:TAS) once stated in an interview that the DMC world is very much like ours and it has phones -- just not cellphones. I can’t find the original article, but there was another old article that had a similar discussion with him about it...

Hiroyuki Kobayashi: In Devil May Cry [series character Dante's] office, they do have a phone, but it's a black analog kind of phone. That feeling of what the world is like is something that we really want to protect, so even though it does have phones, we don't want it to be a world where there is a cell phone and you can immediately talk to anyone in the world.

Having said that, it is a world where they do have motorbikes, so creating this mix between high-tech and analog technology -- a world where some things have advanced and some things haven't advanced -- is pretty difficult.

For example, there's a jukebox in Dante's office, but it plays old vinyl records. Some parts of technology have advanced, and some haven't advanced. Keeping that true throughout the series and the game is difficult, and we need to have all the core members on the same page. That is certainly one of the challenges in making the game. Having said that, it is a lot of fun to be able to create this kind of unique world of our own design.

After a little more digging I found more information on this subject and it’s actually a lot more recent too. On the Polygon website, Editor Matt Leone was at Capcom’s San Francisco office during this year’s Game Developers Conference. He met with Devil May Cry 5 director Hideaki Itsuno, senior producer Michiteru Okabe, and producer Matt Walker to discuss DMC5. Source: Devil May Cry 5: The post-mortem interview

Matt Leone [Interviewer]: To a certain degree, the game — and Devil May Cry in general — feels like a kitchen sink of different ideas; a lot of things could fit in the Devil May Cry world. Can you think of any things that have come up that felt too out of bounds for that universe?

Hideaki Itsuno: It’s interesting. I know this isn’t quite the direction you’re going for with that question, but there are things that technically don’t fit in a Devil May Cry, and it generally falls around the sense of style that we have. For instance, it’s not as cool for someone to take out a cell phone and say, “Devil May Cry” [with a normal voice]. But when you have a big landline phone on a desk, you can pick it up and say “Devil May Cry” [with a deep voice]. And that really comes down to the fact that we grew up in a certain era. We grew up in the ’70s and ’80s, before there was technology like this. That sense of style is something that’s been ingrained into us from having grown up in that period. There’s a lot of stuff in the game where they don’t use the latest technology, because from our point of view, this is what’s cool.

Eventually, if we ever have a director on a new Devil May Cry game who is in their 20s or something, they’ll have grown up with completely different stuff. So then the sense of style might change, and you might have stuff where in the game they’re watching YouTube or whatever.

But there’s also kind of that element of, what’s stylish? What we know to be cool is really based on our experiences in the ’70s and ’80s, but then also we have the cool dark hero element. Like with Dante, sure, he doesn’t really do terrible things — he doesn’t kill humans, that kind of thing — but there are dark aspects to him, or to the heroes in these games. Yet really, they’re pure, proper heroes that are very all about justice and protecting.

What got me thinking about all this was because when I was going over my old fanfiction I noticed something, well, more like the lack of something. I was wondering why I was making my original character go to the library to research books for information on the occult when she could’ve just google’d it (or use an equivalent of the search engine).

But then I realized that it felt out of place if I did that because not once had I ever seen or heard any mention of computers in DMC series (especially in DMC3 as that was the game my fanfiction was focused on). Maybe they do exist, but it was still in the early stages of creation? Or that it wasn’t available for the public and only scientist, military, government or whatnot were the ones using it? I do not know, but books are a valuable source of information and will always be around. So I figured I couldn’t go wrong with having my character do some old-fashion research.

It also makes sense that when Devil May Cry was first released it was in 2001, so of course that had some influence. At the time of writing this post it’s been 18 years since then and technology has made many advancements and will keep on advancing. But even before that in 1998, after the completion of Resident Evil 3, DMC originally started off as a part of the Resident Evil franchise, under the name "Team Little Devil". Early research and development work included a trip to Spain to examine various castles as a basis for the game's environments. So, of course, that also helped to shape DMC into what it is today.

I get the feeling that DMC4 to DMC5 is kinda like when the 90s meet 2000s. In which those who live in the era know what it was like to see cassettes and VHS tapes turn into CD-ROMs. Floppy disk to USB flash drives, Walkman/Discman to mp3 or ipods and so on.

Now, what about cameras? Hm, I do wonder which version of it is fitting for the DMC series. There’s a painted portrait of the whole family in Dante’s childhood home, but on his desk there is a photo of his mother. It might be one of those hand-coloring photograph? I figured because of the clothing they’re wearing looks old-fashion, it may suggest that photography might not have been that common during that time. Paintings were probably popular, but Eva’s photo on Dante’s desk is in color. Maybe it is an actual photo from a camera (the kind that’s not black & white -- film camera possibly)? Unless it’s a small hand-painted portrait of her?

I’ll research this later. Anyway, these were just my musings that spawn from my old DMC fanfiction. Obviously, I don’t have to be canonically correct but I personally like to do my best in sticking with the source material. That usually means I have to do a bit of research to properly understand whatever peaks my interest and then figured how what I want to do with that information. Sometimes it helps me to better build up the DMC universe in my stories from. I also find that it even helps to make it feel very immersive for my readers.

#Devil May Cry #DMC #writing fanfiction #writing fanfic #DMC5 #Devil May Cry 5 #Devil May Cry V #DMCV #thoughts #Dante Sparda #gaming #video game #video games #writing Devil May Cry fanfiction #writing DMC fanfiction #DMC fanfiction #Devil May Cry fanfiction #DMC5 fanfiction #writing Devil May Cry 5 fanfiction

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staticscreenwriting · 6 years

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Where the sun sets in a perfect sky - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Billy’s less sad. (Y/N)’s kinda happy. California feels like home and the salty ocean air makes teenagers horny.

A/N: This is part two to this imagine. There’s borderline smut in here but I marked the start and end if it so if that’s not your thing you can skip it. Please let me know if you want more of these two because I do have a lot more ideas for their story.

Tell me secrets, 'cause I know you're scared And you dream of California, tonight If you wait up, I could meet you there And we could be in California tonight When everything that I can see Goes dark I feel you here with me And I, I'm holding on to you When shadows try to swallow me You're the only light I'll ever need And I, I'm holding on to you

“ I remember this one time when my dad took me on a trip to San Francisco and we had ice cream and sodas and we were standing there watching out onto the bay and I saw a fin reaching out of the water for a mere second. I was so sure it was a mermaid. Like in my tiny childhood brain it was the only logical conclusion. It didn’t even occur to me that it was most likely a seal. I was so passionately convinced that I had just seen a mermaid. From that moment on I wanted to be a mermaid myself. We had a little pool in our backyard and all I did all day that summer, was swim and dive and splash around. Because that’s all I wanted to be with my heart and soul. I don’t remember if I knew that mermaids aren't real and just wanted to stay blissfully ignorant or if I honestly believed in it and just allowed myself to feel the magic. I wish I could feel this passionate about something now. Like — back then my dream was to become a mythical creature from a fairy tale. Now my biggest goal is to survive high school and not drown in my own stupid teenage-despair. Isn’t that kind of — kind of sad ? “

Billy is looking out at the waves as she talks. There’s something about California that makes him feel lighter, warmer, like the world is still shit but it’s wrapped in a veil of familiarity and comfort. This is home and his heart is still heavy and mind is still racing but this is home.

When he doesn’t react, (Y/N) speaks up again.

“ What did you want to be ? “

Loved, he thinks. He doesn’t say that though.

“ A racecar driver. A musician. A wrestler. A tv host. A pirate “

“ You’d be a good pirate “

“ Thanks “ he thinks so too. He suits eyeliner and earrings.

“ Not a basketball player ? “

“ No “

“ Why not ? “

He’s never told this to anyone. But (Y/N) isn’t just anyone. She’s the girl he had one conversation with. The girl that understands. The girl that took all her savings and packed her bags in one night to take a flight to California with him. She’s (Y/N).

“ I hate basketball. I’m just good at it. Being good at something means succeeding, means having something to tell my dad about. Means I get a pat on the back. It’s one of the few times his hand doesn’t leave a mark. “

For a moment (Y/N) resorts to letting the warm sand run through her fingers, carefully considering the words she’s about to speak.

“ You do it because you’re good at it but you also hate it ? Doesn’t that make you — I don’t know. Doesn’t it make you feel miserable ? “

“ It makes me angry “

She softly places her head on his shoulder “ I am angry too “

“ Why ? “

“ Because I don’t know who I am “

That is something Billy never would’ve expected. The girl with the pink fur coat, the personality so loud and so unapologetically herself, doesn’t know who she is.

“ What’s that supposed to mean ? “

He can feel her soft skin on his shoulder, the fan of her lashes as she closes her eyes for a moment. Billy doesn’t think anything has ever felt this intimate in all his life. Not the sex with girls at school, not the kisses from the few girlfriends he’s had back here in California. Nothing.

“ When my parents died, everything changed. People’s perception of me changed. I was expected to either go down the wrong path and become a horrible person who blames their terrible behavior on their tragic life story. Or I was gonna become this saint of a person who takes strength from their struggles and the obstacles life throws their way. And it’s like — people who don’t experience a loss like I did, like you did, they don’t get it. Life doesn’t go one of two ways. Life just becomes this tangled web of good days and bad days and I don’t know how to navigate my own feelings, how am I supposed to deal with people’s expectations of how I’m meant to grief ? Does this make sense ? I feel like I’m talking gibberish. “

It doesn’t make sense but he understands perfectly.

“ When I cry or lash out or get angry, people will think I am having a meltdown and can’t deal with my shit. When I don’t cry people will think I’m heartless. I can’t win. It’s bad enough everyone thinks I’m weird already. I just — I’m trying. And that makes me angry. Having to police my grief so I don’t upset anyone. Having to restrain my personality so I don’t get perceived in a way that I don’t want to be perceived. The fact that I even care makes me the most angry “

He places a kiss on her head. She smells like the ocean air already. He thinks this is his favourite scent of all time. Her. Her and home.

“ How do you deal with your anger ? “

“ I fuck people I don’t love and hope the endorphins kill the pain for a while. You ? “

“ I destroy stuff “

“ That’s not healthy “

He just nods.

There’s no judgement here where usually that’s all there would be. If they weren’t who they are. If it were someone else. But they both get it and they know neither of them is in a position to judge.

“ Why people you don’t love ? “

“ Because It’s different. It doesn’t mean anything. “

“ Have you ever fucked someone you love ? “

“ No, you ? “

“ No. “

And they both know then that something’s changed. That there’s an invisible question, an unspoken promise.

He holds her hand as they walk along the waterfront. There’s wind blowing through her hair and her skirt gets blown up a little every once in a while. She’s watching the people go about their day. He’s watching her.

Sometimes things feel right, like this moment. He always thought that love and joy and all that mushy shit from the songs and the movies wasn’t meant for him so he deemed it not worth the effort and tried to forget about it. But now that he gets a glimpse, a spark of what could be, he thinks it’s not so bad.

He grabs her hand tighter, he doesn’t want this feeling to go away. Ever.

“ I gotta show you something “ Billy exclaims and pulls her down a little sideroad.

There’s shops that sell cheap sunglasses and fans and postcards. A seafood store. A burger joint. And the arcade.

Nestled between the arcade and a 7/11 type store, is a shop that looks closed. Looks like it hasn’t been open in years. (Y/N) thinks they might’ve sold what looks like vintage cameras, films and polaroids. Billy holds her by the hand and walks her past the store and around the corner.

There’s a bunch of cutout photo frames, the kind you’d find at the end of a pier. The ones you put your face through and take funny pictures for you family photo album.

“ This is so cool, where are we, Billy ? “

“ When I was a kid my mom used to work here and sometimes when she worked weekends she let me come with her. The owner of this place always put one of the cutouts in front of the store for people to take their picture and then have it developed there. They used to switch out the cutouts every once in awhile and when they weren’t used they were stored here. This alley was closed off then, when the placed closed they opened it up and let the cutouts stand out here to rot away. “

(Y/N) thinks this is adorable. She hasn’t really thought about Billy as a little kid, he’s so cynical and rough. But now, she can just imagine little blonde billy with his big blue eyes playing around here. Pretending to be the people on the cutouts.

“ Which one was your favorite ? The strong man ? “

“ Actually no. I liked the superhero best. And the one with the suit and the tophat “.

“ A gentleman huh ? “

“ Like no other, baby. “

And they laugh. And it feels good.Therapeutic. Like for a little while his heart is less heavy. His head is less crowded. And his anger is gone.

“ There’s one I think you’ll like “

He pulls her along by her hand, past the strong man and the neanderthals and the sailor. In the back there’s a princess and a bride and a sea serpent. And in the middle of them all, like it was placed there specifically just for her. There’s a mermaid there.

“ Today you get to be a mermaid “

She wants to cry and laugh at the same time. To everyone else this would be cute, yes but also not that special. But to her it means everything. Because he cares. He tries. He delivers. With Billy things are reckless and cautious at once. With him everything feels twice as much. Her heart beats twice as fast and she fears that it will hurt twice as much once they have to go back to Hawkins and leave behind the magic that is today. That is California, that is home that is this little bubble they’ve created for themselves.

“ Thank god I brought the polaroid “ she exclaims and fumbles it from her bag, pushing it into Billy’s hand and rushing behind the cutout.

As she puts her head through the hole and becomes a mermaid, there’s a smile spreading on her face that, Billy is sure, can light up the entire city. The entire world. His world for sure.

Never in his life has he felt like his happiness was dependant on someone else. On someone else’s happiness. Now he does. It scares him to his bones but it also makes his heart feel all warm and his tummy all jittery.

This feels too good to be real. Too good to last. He’s scared of the end but he’s too happy to think about that right now.

And so he smiles back. And he’s missed genuinely smiling. He’s missed it so much.

He takes a picture and shakes it then hands it to her, her head still placed in the cutout.

“ You were born to be a mermaid “

“ I agree “ she says, a smile hidden in every word. (Y/N) places the photo in her purse and beckons him closer.

“ You just put a little magic back in my life “ she says and he comes closer and closer, and it’s awkward because her face is still stuck through the cutout and there’s a wooden wall around her but he can’t stop now. He doesn’t want to.

Their noses touch, then their lips. It’s gentle and slow but filled with a desire they can feel all around them. The desire that’s been there since their first conversation in Hawkins.

When they kiss it’s saliva and tongue and biting lips and breaths mingling and love.

“ I want to fuck you “

She doesn’t think she’s ever had more romantic words spoken to her in all her life.

“ I want to know what it feels like to fuck someone I love. “

She’s pink. The entire fucking motel room is pink. They’ve been given the room that has a straight on view of the neon sign advertising the “ Red Sunset Motel” .

She’s pink. And sweaty. And warm. And so so soft.

Her hands are moving up his torso, over his stomach, his shoulders, his neck. She takes his face in between them and just looks at him for a moment. There’s something in her eyes he can’t place. He doesn’t really want to either. It’s like she sees more in him. So much more than anyone ever did. Than anyone ever bothered looking for.

“ You’re beautiful “

He’s never been called beautiful. Handsome, sure. Sexy, a lot. Hot, all the time. Never beautiful. If anyone else would’ve said it he would’ve felt emasculated. Not with her.

For a lack of anything to respond, he kisses her. There’s a lot he could say, a lot he wants to say, but none of it feels right in this moment. Kissing her does. Nothing’s ever felt more right.

She still smells like the ocean and she tastes like cherry slushie.

There’s a lot of kissing and touching. A lot of soft whispers and deep breaths. He knows that’s gonna change in a minute but he wants it now. Just like this. Like he’s never had it before.

- This is where the “smut” starts -

When she wiggles out of her panties, Billy thinks it’s hilarious. It’s awkward and not like the movies at all. It’s a lot of moving around in weird angles and trying to get it right. They never show that. But they don’t show the blushed cheeks either, the embarrassed glances and the laughs that follow.

He’s never wanted it before. It was all fast and rough and meaningless. A race to get off and get out.

Her skin is warm as he kisses down her body. Her eyes are locked on the ceiling but he’s looking up at her over and over again. He wants to see her, see what he does to her. See that he can make her feel good. Make her forget. Make her stop hurting. Make her cum.

“ Can I lick your pussy “

No one’s ever outright asked her things like this before. So dirty. So raunchy, so vulgar. So hot. She thinks asking for consent is probably the sexiest thing she ever experienced.

She nods. Because who the fuck wouldn’t ?

Every nerve in her body is working on overdrive. There’s goosebumps up and down her arms and with every kiss he places on her it gets more. And more. And more.

And her breath gets heavier and her eyes close and then flutter. And the knot in the lower part of her stomach gets tighter and tighter.

Billy is the first person to do this to her. Other stuff, she’s done that sure, but not this. Her toes curl and her fingers hold onto the bed sheets like her life depends on it. In that moment it really feels like it.

His tongue draws little circles and she’s sure he’s done this before. It just feels so overwhelmingly amazing. There’s no sliver of pain, no hint of anger. Nothing. It’s all tingles and joy and a buzz of adrenaline and happiness.

She has to bite her lips so hard she’s sure she’s drawing blood. There’s no fireworks or stars or butterflies but there is an orgasm that’s shaking her to her bones. That’s making her grab onto Billy’s stupid mullet she adores a little if we’re being honest.

And when she’s calmed down a little he lifts his head and smiles. His smile is fucking great, she decides.

There’s not a sliver of skin Billy doesn’t kiss when he comes back up. When he reaches her lips the kisses get rougher, there’s more tongue, more saliva, more biting and deeper breaths. There’s more urgency. Making her cum has only made him more excited for what's to come.

He loves this girl. This girl who understands in a way he thought no one ever would. The girl who feels so lost and yet she might just be his destination. This girl that’s stumbled into his life during one of the worst times. Who doesn’t take the pain away forever but who gives him something to numb it. To forget about the pain for a while.

There’s some stumbling off of the bed and awkward searching around in his wallet before he finds a condom. The films don’t show this either but it makes for more laughs. And he’s honestly fine with anything that makes her laugh.

The moment he pushes in isn’t magical or special. But when he holds still and she grabs onto his sides and they look at each other breathing deeply, something’s there that’s not been there before.

Her smile is a sign for him to start moving and man does he deliver. (Y/N) swears this boy might just be the death of her. Where he’s learned to move like that, hit just the right spot at just the right speed, she doesn’t know. But he’s good. He’s so so good.

Billy relishes the feelings running through his body. It feels like this is the first time he’s properly experiencing sex. There’s no music blasting through speakers, no concern in the back of his mind about the leather seats of his car, nothing. Just (Y/N) and him.

There’s a need to go faster rougher and by the look on her face she feels it to. So he does that. Goes faster. Harder. Holds onto her tighter. Moves her legs up a little so he can go deeper.

It’s dirty sex. Wild sex. Sex that would make other people jealous. Because it’s also really really good. And it means something to them both that they can’t put into words but it’s there.

Billy holds onto her face and smothers her in a kiss as he comes. He wants her to come first but there’s no holding back for him now. She’s not far behind though. He can feel her tighten, feel her fingers grasp onto him, see her eyes close and there’s a moan that sounds so sexy, so sweet so satisfying. It’s a job well done for him. He wants to give himself a pat on the back but that would be a douchebag move. Steve Harrington does shit like that, probably.

- “smut” ends here -

They’re kissing some more. If this is all he gets to do for the rest of his life, Billy thinks he’ll die a happy man.

Postcoital bliss settles upon the room. Everything is still pink. Everything is still quiet. It’s just them and their breaths and their thumping hearts and those unspoken words that something has changed.

“ I want a house by the ocean “ It’s Billy who speaks up. Something inside him wants to let go. Let it all out and release it into the word. Even if the world is just their tiny pink motel room. Even if the world is only her.

He rolls off of her and settles on his side. His fingers trace along her shoulder, down her arm and back up again before he links them with her hand that’s resting on her stomach.

“ A house by the ocean ? “

“ Yeah, or maybe an apartment. It doesn’t matter. I want to live by the beach though. I wanna have a dog, a big one with lots of fluffy fur. I wanna have a wife and a child or two. I want to — I want to be a good husband. A good father. I want to right all the wrongs that I’ve had to live through “.

(Y/N) can just imagine him in his little blue house by the ocean. No mullet. He’s a little more tan and a little more at ease. His blue eye are happy and he’s cuddling a little child in his arms and he’s — happy. Next time she eats pop rocks she’ll make sure to spend her wish on him. On his future. And maybe, if there’s a wish to spare, she’ll take it for herself and wish to be a part of that future.

“ I don’t wanna leave “

“ The bed ? “ Billy asks and throws her a wink. In that moment she sees a spark of the Billy Hargrove that walks the halls of Hawkins High and scores on the Basketball field. She hasn’t really given him a lot of thought back then. She likes her Billy better but it’s nice to see this side of him up close too.

“ The bubble. I wanna stay in California forever “

He does too. So badly. He doesn’t know if there’s ever been anything he wanted more.

“ Would you freak out if I told you I loved you ? “

“ Are we talking hypothetically ? “

“ Yeah “ he nods “ asking for a friend. “

“ No, I wouldn’t. I’d probably tell you that I love you too. “

“ That’s good to know “

They’re quite for another moment. Not because there isn’t anything to say but because they don’t need to say anything. This silence isn’t asking to be filled with unnecessary commentary.

They just are. Alive. In love. Happy.

And it’s enough for a while.

But good things don't last. They don’t. Not in a world like this, (Y/N) thinks.

There’s a shadow of doubt creeping into the back of her head.

“ Do you think It’s too early for us to feel like this ? Isn’t love supposed to be this special thing that takes time and effort ? It never happens like this in movies. It never happened like this to anyone I know “ .

“ Who says that ? The love-police ? “

She laughs and jokingly slaps his chest “ be serious “.

“ I am. Look — I don’t think there’s a rulebook for this kind of shit. It feels good doesn’t it ? “

“ Very “

“ And it feels right ? “

“ Yes. “

“ And it makes us happy ? “

“ Correct “

“ Why should we let anyone else’s idea of what love’s supposed to be diminish what we have then ? Isn’t that what we’re about ? Fucking everyone else’s perception of things, not giving a shit about their morals and beliefs ? I know I’ve never felt this way about any other person, ever. I don’t give a fuck if it took me two years or two days, all I know is that I am in love with you. With us. With our little world where things are — alright. This, I promise, is not gonna stop once we get back to Hawkins. It’s not gonna be this easy, this light but we’ll figure it out. Because I need you and you need me and we need this. Something to remind us that life is shit but there’s some things that make it all worth it. And also the sex was pretty fucking mind blowing and I wanna do that many more times. “

She knows that he just gave her a love confession Billy Hargrove style if she’s ever heard one and that she should probably answer with words just as heartfelt. She doesn’t though.

“ Wanna go again ? “

“ What kinda question is that ? “

“ So yes ?

“ Fuck yeah “.

Rain is pouring down as they stroll along the beach. Her hair is clinging to her face and Billy looks like a wet poodle, he’s fairly sure. But she wanted to see the beach one last time before they have to leave to catch their flight.

“ You’re gonna get sick “

“ I don’t care “

“ I’m gonna get sick “

“ Don’t be a baby, Billy ! ” she says and smiles at him. He thinks the rain isn’t so bad if she’s smiling.

She’s smiling and twirling and being as a posterchild for weird. Billy loves it.

“ I wanna come back. 5 years from now. I wanna be back here and I wanna be here with you and I wanna be this happy and I wanna — I wanna feel alive and not angry and not hurt. “

Billy takes her face between his hands and brushes away the wet strands of hair that cling to her skin.

“ I’ll be there “

“ Yeah ? “

“ Yeah, I’ll be wherever you want me to be, baby. I’ll follow you anywhere. I think — ah fuck this is cheesy but uh — I think I can be happy wherever you are. “

And he really thinks so. Suddenly Hawkins doesn’t sound so bad if he imagines (Y/N) there. Kissing beneath the bleachers at school, cheering him on during his basketball games, long night drives with pop rocks and Dr. Pepper, sex on the backseat, sex with someone he loves, sharing secrets, sharing fears, and hopes, and dreams. If she’s there maybe life doesn’t have to suck.

His lips meet hers and once again he’s reminded that this isn’t like the movies. Kisses in the pouring rain, stuck in the wet sand of the beach, are hardly romantic. It’s wet and soggy and inconvenient.

But he’ll take every awkward kiss with her over a kiss with anyone else.

“ Whatever happens, we’ll always have California “

And it sounds like a promise coming from her. That things are gonna be good. Happy. That whatever happens, nothing will change what happened on this trip. Nothing will ever be able to make them forget what it felt like to be loved. Nothing will take this away from them.

California is theirs. Now and forever.

Taglist: @hotstuffhargrove (ngl I fangirled a little, I love your tumblr)

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fanfiction

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melakas-finalproject · 6 years

Text

BA (Hons) Photographic Arts Major Project 1 Research Report

This should be a summary of and a critical reflection on your research process so far. You should try to give the reader a sense of the process you have been through - your journey, your thoughts and decisions along the way and what has informed the choices you’ve made. Try to be as honest and as critically reflective as you can.

Please extend boxes as required (length 1000-2000 wds)

Name

Emily Kopaskie (Mela Kas)

Major Project Title

(Or working title - how and why did this title develop?)

They Are Me and I Am Them (working title)

No Costumes but All Mask (Working title)

Research Methods

(What methods have you used during this phase of the project and how have they helped you develop your ideas and inform your major project proposal?)

As my dissertation topic goes along with my initial project idea, that research has been apart of my thought process when photographing. Currently I’m writing about about the comparison of two female tropes (Femme Fatale and Manic Pixie dream girls) from completely different time periods but were both formed out of the males perspective and anxiety towards the changing times. Femme Fatale and MPDG were both tropes that I would see in movies as a kid but never knew what to call them until recently. I have looked into why the men wrote these types of role, what iconography goes with it and how the fact that cinematic language can be more impactful than dialogue. Part of this research will also include how these tropes had evolved by pop culture or the public redefining their roles and adding visual check lists to spot other examples of these tropes. This also set off a number of blogs and journal entries online by women who declare themselves the real life versions of these tropes, so I was interested in why so many people felt like they were a one dimensional character in real life.

With this in mind, I will be researching the pschyological impact of the cinema language of these tropes. As Laura Mullvey discusses in her essay Visua Pleasures and Narrative Cinema, movies invite audiences to drop their ego and have it be replaced by the ones on the screen. As this is the process subconisouly I believe some of those images stay with us and persuade our own idea on how we should act and look. As for many years the film industry specifically hollywood was written from the males point of view, these tropes were written with a preconceived idea on how their leading ladies should act in the world.

This topic comes from a subjective place as I have realised I Identify with femme fatale and Manic Pixie dream girl greatly. As a kid I looked up to these characters for being different, independent, interesting and saw how desirable they were. I feel subconcisouly I have learned how to act and cultivated my own identity with them in mind.

Specifically this aspect of my disseratatiing will influence my photographing process as I personally identify with her argument. The easiest way for myself to escape was to loose myself in movies and tv shows. When the fact i didn’t understand my emotions was too much I would try to forget myself by loosing myself into movies and tv shows.

This research helps me be more thoughtful in examining of my impulse decisions i make while producing self portraits that are inspired by the cinema.

Pilot Project

(What have you achieved through the development of your pilot project/s? What have you learned from the process? Identify the main concepts that might direct or drive your major project.)

I have achieved a decent amount of photos to ether choose from or that are usable as a inspiration board when continuing. I have also achieved a bit more of a appreciation of my impulse issues as it helps me be more passionate about photography.

I have learned to pay more attention to my settings on the camera as its important for these photos to be crisp as I plan on displaying them on a lightbox. I will continue to watch more films for my research and engage with my emotions when watching characters that inspire me.

Audience and Context

(Has a consideration of Context and Audience made you think about your project in a particular way? Have you been aware of the histories, conventions and audience expectations of particular contexts? Have you considered different contexts and how have you responded to them?)

I’m aware that my project is in the same realm as Cindy Sherman, Nadia Lee Cohen and Anja niemi. All of these artists who identify as female work in self portraiture that are inspired by ether common cinema narratives or classic vintage Hollywood fashion of dress. While some are an obvious critique on roles that are available for female and on hyper femininity, I would mention that my project isn’t about critique the misgony towards women in film. It is a clafiricay or a statement that I am them and have been greatly internally influenced by the females I have seen on film. This project is admitting that my authentic self is not as authentic as one would believe. These tropes were a medium that I felt the most comfortable with when picturing what was desirable to men I have been striving to cultivate the ideal version of my self with the help of these tropes and other female narratives.

Production and Presentation

(Discuss the production methods you have been exploring through your pilot project. What effects do these different approaches/ visual strategies have on the work? What choices have you made in the refinement of your visual approach and why? Is the approach you have chosen effective in communicating your ideas to the identified audience?)

As this project is about my natural impulses, I am choosing to shoot in digital as this is where I am the most comfortable since I’m shooting self portraits. I have also downloaded a canon capture app on my phone which connects to my camera so I have more freedom with framing and focusing on my own. As I primarily work alone this is very helpful.

The things I found difficult is that I rely on all natural lighting I choose not to plan and set up my shoots to bring outdoor lighting as I feel it goes against the spontaneity of the project. That being sad that means during the low lighting moments are not the best quality as I had to use a high ISO often.

Also there has been times when shooting on my own has gotten difficult as the connection from my phone to the camera didn’t not work within places with very little service. As I will be planning on shooting up north preferably in the moors I am thinking of bringing an assistant as I’m limited to a 10 second timer to get into the desired position.

The fact that I choose to take photos of myself acting out these different scenarios in my own clothing that i wear to a day to day basis I believe does begin to clue in on the meaning of the project. Going forward I am considering on research the places I visit more clearly to better plan out the images and really think about using lower ISO’s to improve the quality of the photos.

Visual References / Bibliography

(List the key visual and critical references you have explored during the research process. Discuss how useful these references were for the project and what you learned from them).

Francessca Woodman

She is a self portraiture photographer who primarily works in black and white analogue film. She is the one who said that she shoots herself out of connivence and photographs how her body interacts with environments. The movements made are very expressive and often comes out blurred. The locations chosen are often abandoned old looking houses or gothic style nature.

While her work doesn’t use a kind of cinematic language that I am striving for, the quickness and spontaneity of her process speaks to me as well.

Wuther Heights, Jane Eyre, 2011 Movie

The cinematography of the landscape in proportion to the subject had always intrigued me. The lone subject

The moors, which describes the land and kind of terrain that was the backdrop to Bronte sisters novels. As these novels were often about isolation and loneliness in the movies, the moors symbolised these feelings. The shots of the lone subjects with the vast flat foggy moors and brown but yet cool coloured terrain was beautiful shown through feelings of melancholy.

Cindy Sherman Unitled Film Stills

She was the first fine art photographer that was I was introduced who really spoke to me. Beforehand I felt lost as none of the photographers talked about in my lecture inspired me. She has influenced me greatly and allowed me to admit to myself how much I do not know myself but rather the image of who I want to be.

#research #photography #fine art photography #westminsteruniversity

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tumblingletters · 6 years

Text

Emerald Genesis Chapter 06

“Not sure about redheads. Dreadful temper.”

- James Bond

Chapter 6: Asuka Strikes and Shinji Strikes Back

Somewhere south-east of the shores of New Yokosuka (Old Odawara) Captain Misato Katsuragi had taken Shinji Jordan, Toji Suzahara and Kensuke Aida on a small “date”.

“Wow!” Kensuke cried out holding his video camera and taping everything that he could see, “A MIG-55 Transport Helicopter. I never thought I’d get to see one of these things, much less fly in one! It’s great to have a friend like you, Shinji!”

“He’s never happier unless he’s near military stuff,” Toji pointed out while he adjusted his white and black striped hat.

“No question,” Shinji smiled.

The helicopter passed by a few clouds and came out to the ocean where Kensuke cried out, “Wow! One…two…three…five aircraft carriers and four battleships! And there’s the Super-aircraft carrier ‘Over the Rainbow’! That’s a vintage model from just before the Second Impact!”

After the helicopter landed and Kensuke had set about taking his camera and viewing everything that he could see, Shinji had observed that he was pretty much like a kid in a candy store. Probably the one thing that would have made him even happier would be if he was allowed to pilot one of the airplanes but, of course, the chances of that would be none to negative.

Toji on the other hand was happy by the fact that he was allowed to come on this trip with Misato. He even bought a stripped cap for the occasion that he so proudly proclaimed would never take off.

It did occur to Shinji how odd the situation was that Misato and Shinji were going on this military operation to deliver the power cable for the arriving Unit Two and yet here they were bringing along civilians on it as if were a school field trip. He quietly smirked at his own observation when he thought that all they needed was a packed lunch.

There was a good strong wind blowing over the deck of ‘Over the Rainbow’. So much so that it blew off Toji’s special cap that he was chasing like a parent after their child at an amusement park.

“Stop damn you!” He kept calling.

Until at last the cap landed at the feet of someone. Toji was glad until one of the persons feet had lifted and stomped down on the cap.

Shinji was watching the event unfold in front of him when Toji developed an annoyed look and tried to grab at the cap that was being held down onto the flight deck by a girl in a yellow sundress. Giving her a better look, Shinji did see that she was rather cute with her red hair that flowed down to the center of her back. She had blue eyes very similar to Shinji if only a few shades brighter. Her expression was slightly arrogant with the way that she grinned as if she were saying to the world “I’m always right because I’m so super and you’re all so stupid.”

The only peculiar thing that Shinji had noticed right away was the fact that at the top of her head where her hair was tied up there were a pair of red sync nodes that looked as though they were being used as hair clips. If Shinji were to look back on it in retrospect he would have made the connection that the sync nodes on her head almost looked like small horns.

“Why helllllll-o, Misato.” The girl in the yellow sundress said.

“Been a long time, Asuka.” Misato greeted in return. “My you’ve grown.” “Ah-huh.” The girl named Asuka answered. “And I’m not just taller my figure has filled out too.”

“Let me introduce you.” Misato presented. “This is the designated pilot of Evangelion Unit Two. The Second Child. Asuka Langley Sohryu.”

Then, just as if it was on cue, a good high wind blew across the flight deck and blew up the hem of Asuka’s yellow sundress to the point where Toji, Kensuke, and Shinji could actually see that she was wearing white panties.

The redhead began to burst out in obscenities of German as she slapped Toji and Kensuke but when she came up to Shinji he blocked her oncoming slap as easily as catching a ball.

“You really shouldn’t do that.” Shinji said. “It really wasn’t our fault.”

“Why not? You’re the pervert who was looking!” Asuka protested.

“And I’m the idiot who thought it was smart to wear a sundress on a windy flight deck?” Shinji asked.

Asuka’s face fumed and she raised her other hand in a surprise slap attack across Shinji’s face.

“Hey!” Toji interjected. “What’d you do that for?”

“That’s my fee.” Asuka stated in arrogance. “Quite a bargain if I say so myself.”

“Well in that case here’s mine!” Toji said as he pulled down his pants and flashed himself at Asuka.

Aghast at what she saw she began to spout German again and gave Toji a second slap across the face.

“So then, now that that’s out of the way which one is the famous Third Child?” Asuka asked but she looked over at Toji whose face already had twin red hand-shaped welts on his face. “Ack nein…please don’t tell me it’s him.”

“Its okay, Asuka.” Misato smiled and pointed to Shinji. “It’s him.”

“This jerk?” Asuka sneered. “They say he’s American but he looks Japanese to me.”

“I was born in Japan but I was raised in America.” Shinji corrected.

“That figures. You act like a Yankee jerk.”

This girl really did get Shinji’s hackles up and he answered back with, “I’d rather be an Yankee jerk than a Kraut cunt.”

“Shinji!” Misato cried out.

“VAT?!” Asuka cried out as she raised her hand to slap him again until Misato stepped in between the two of them.

“Okay children.” She commanded. “Let’s just cool out, okay?”

“Fine.” Asuka groaned.

“I’m fine with it as long as someone finds a proctologist on this ship to take the stick out of her ass.” Shinji quipped.

“That’s enough, Shinji.” Misato said sternly.

“You still haven’t changed have you, Katsuragi?” A voice called out.

“KAJI!” Asuka squealed like a fan girl at her favorite music artist.

Shinji looked back at Misato who developed a look of overwhelming dread when she looked at where the voice came from. Looking in the same direction Shinji found a rather scruffy looking man wearing a shirt that had the first few top buttons undone and a tie that was loosened a little far. He had long brown hair tied up into a shaggy pony tail. His face had a good growth of beard stubble across it. But then there was his expression that could only be described as being like a used car salesman: sneaky and sly. As if he were trying to think of a way to screw everyone over while still keeping on a pleasant “have a nice day” smile on his face.

* * *

The group had headed down to the ships’ mess hall but to say that there was tension in the air would have been such a grand understatement. From what Shinji was seeing it looked like there was going to be a real smack-down about to erupt. The man named Ryoji Kaji was leaning forward and giving Misato the eye like a man trying to pick her up for a good night lay.

“So, do you have a boyfriend right now?” He asked.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Misato said with a sour expression on her face while she looked off into the corner to avoid eye contact with Kaji.

“I’m hurt. Ow.” Kaji feigned his pout but then turned to Shinji who was sitting on his side of the table with Asuka between them. “So I understand you’re living with Katsuragi.”

“Yeah, I am.” Shinji answered.

“Tell me is she still so wild in bed?” Kaji smirked.

All around the table everyone developed a shocked look while Misato looked like she needed air while her face was turning to the same shade as a cherry tomato.

Shinji responded in good humor. “Yeah. We nearly broke the bed last time.”

“You do realize that she sleeps on the floor, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean we nearly broke through the floor into the apartment below us.”

“SHINJI!” Misato cried out.

“Nope.” Kaji smirked. “She hasn’t changed a bit, has she Shinji Jordan?”

“How do you know who I am?” Shinji asked.

“I ought to know you.” Kaji pointed out. “You’re pretty famous in the defense business. The famous Third Child who piloted an Eva in his first battle with no training.”

“Oh that.” Shinji shrugged. “Beginners luck, I’d say.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. It’s your destiny. It’s your talent.”

Upon hearing Kaji’s praises Shinji couldn’t help but notice how Asuka was giving him daggers. She had the look of a child who saw someone else with a fancy toy that she had wanted but never got.

“Asuka.” Shinji pleaded. “Would you quit glaring at me? People are going to think I just broke up with you.”

“Hmph!” Asuka responded turning away from him.

“Well, I will take my leave.” Kaji said before excusing himself from the table.

“And I’m going with Kaji.” Asuka added. “Since he’s the only real man on this ship.”

“And you know where to find me when you get disappointed, missy.” Shinji chided.

Asuka turned and stomped off muttering something in German while Misato had her hands on the sides of her head as she looked down and muttered something that sounded like “nightmare”.

“So, what my dad said was right.” Shinji commented.

“What’s that?” Toji asked.

“Redheads have a bad temper.”

“You got that right.”

“Though that Mister Kaji is pretty interesting.”

“He hasn’t changed at all that chauvinistic pig!” Misato snarled.

“Bad ex, I take it?” Shinji asked.

“You have no idea.”

That was when she came back.

“Hey, Third Child.”

Shinji looked over his shoulder and found Asuka with her hands on her hips and a very stern and sour expression on her face.

“You’re coming with me.” She commanded.

“Did Kaji disappoint you already?” Shinji humored.

“No. I have something amazing to show you.”

“But you already flashed me.”

Once again she spat out her German at Shinji before changing languages to say, “I want to show you my superior Eva.”

* * *

Asuka had taken Shinji on a short helicopter ride from the Over The Rainbow to a ship that looked to be a converted super tanker with a massive tarp covering something on its deck. All the while Asuka had such an arrogant grin on her face especially when she brought Shinji to the side of the great tarp covering and pulled it up. Shinji looked inside and found Evangelion Unit Two. He didn’t see much of it but he saw that it was red all over.

“Interesting color.” He said.

“That’s not all that’s different about Unit Two.” She said as she led Shinji inside to get a closer look at the machine. The thing was submerged in a pink liquid that Shinji had seen before with his Unit One back home. He stood on a makeshift bridge that was basically wooden planks set on top of empty barrels that acted as floatation devices while Asuka climbed up onto the Eva and stood proudly like she was the Queen of the Hill.

“Unit Zero and One were the prototype and test type respectively.” Asuka began. “The fact that Unit One synchronized with an untrained pilot like you is proof of that. However, Unit Two is a little different. My Unit Two is the world’s real first Evangelion. Designed for actual combat it’s the final production model!”

“Cool.” Shinji said sounding very uninterested. “By the way, is it lonely up there on your pedestal, Asuka?”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Asuka shrieked as she climbed down from Unit Two. She stomped her way up to Shinji and looked him in the eye and shoved her finger into his chest as she said. “Say that again.”

“I asked if it was lonely up there on your pedestal, Asuka.” Shinji repeated. “Or did you want me to ask if it’s dark with your head up your ass?”

She raised her hand once again but before she could deliver the blow there was a great explosion followed by the ship rocking and the gangplank shaking back and forth.

“What the hell was that?” Shinji asked.

“Undersea shockwaves.” Asuka assessed. “And pretty close by the sound of it.”

They dashed from where Unit 02 was being held to the guard rail on the ships deck. They looked out and saw one ship explode in a plume of purple smoke followed by a series of waves as if something underneath was moving.

“So it’s an Angel.” Shinji observed.

“A real one?” Asuka asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

That was when Asuka grinned like a mad scientist as she looked back at the tarp that covered Unit Two.

“Wunderva.” She uttered to herself. “Now’s my chance.”

She then turned to Shinji and said, “Wait here.”

She then dashed away as if she were running the hundred meter dash. Her yellow sundress flailing in the wind and the sharp motions of her legs and within a matter of moments she came back with a red bag that had the numbers “02” on the side. She then yanked Shinji by the hand and took him back inside where Eva Unit Two was being stored.

Back inside the storage area she stopped on the makeshift bridge.

“Turn around, Third Child.” She ordered. “And don’t peek or you’re dead.”

Shinji shook his head as turned around. This whole thing was pissing him off. There was an Angel attack going on outside and yet this obnoxious German redhead was ordering him around.

He then heard a few noises coming from behind him. There was the rumpling of cloth, the pulling of a zipper, and the sound of plastic against plastic. He turned his head and for a flash he saw Asuka changing clothes into something resembled his plugsuit. In the next flash Asuka glared at him and cried out.

“Don’t peek! You pervert!”

“And if it was Kaji?” Shinji asked turning his head away from her.

“That’s none of your business!” Asuka cried out.

She pulled Shinji by the shoulder, turning him around and shoved a red plugsuit into Shinji’s arms. He looked at it very confused and puzzled. Looking back up at Asuka he saw that she was wearing the same kind of red plugsuit as the one that he was holding in his arms.

“Well? Put it on.” She said with that same arrogant smile.

“Fuck no.” Shinji said tossing the suit back at Asuka.

“What did you say?” Asuka glared.

“I said ‘fuck no’.” Shinji repeated while he began to take his backpack off. It was something that he had brought with him on this small excursion with Misato. If NERV had taught him anything it taught him that one should be prepared for almost any contingency. Then again, using the ring was much easier than carrying around what he had in his bag. He reached in and pulled out his blue and white plugsuit along with the new type of sync nodes. This type was attached to a headband that would fit around his head.

“Oh, such a prepared child, aren’t you?” Asuka asked derisively.

“As opposed to you.” Shinji said slipping on the sync node headband, unfurling his plugsuit and starting to undress in front of Asuka who began to blush the same shade of red as her suit. She turned around, covered her eyes and spat obscenities in German.

Shinji hadn’t taken off his ring when he slipped his hand into the plugsuit’s sleeve. After he pressed the button on the wrist controller he could see the lantern symbol bulging through the plastic but he knew that he would be the only one that could see it. Otherwise Asuka would have made some kind of cutting remark about a boy wearing a green ring.

Seeing Asuka in her plugsuit Shinji was pretty sure of what insanity was going to happen next. Then again given the situation it was the best course of action since none of the weapons that this small escort fleet had would even work on it.

“I’m ready.” Shinji said.

Asuka turned around and grabbed Shinji by the hand. That was when Shinji had enough. He yanked it out of her grip.

“Are you blind?” Shinji spat.

“Vhat?” Asuka asked.

“Are you blind?” Shinji repeated.

Asuka was silent.

“Then why do you keep grabbing my goddamn hand?”

Asuka’s lips scrunched as if she took a large bite into a lemon and was still allowing the acids to slip down her throat.

“Okay then.” Shinji said. “I’d ask you what we’re planning to do but it is fairly obvious.”

“Are you stupid?” Asuka asked. “We’re going to beat that Angel with my unit two.”

“Oh brilliant plan.” Shinji rolled his eyes. “With what weapons?”

“The progressive knife should do it. And if that doesn’t work I’ll kill it with my Eva’s bare hands.” Asuka said proudly while she was working Unit Two’s controls to eject and open the entry plug. “This will be an even more famous battle than yours. Get ready for an amazing display of piloting, Third Child. Just sit back and don’t get in my way.”

“If you don’t want me to get in your way then why are you basically dragging me with you?” Shinji retorted.

“Because I want you to see that I’m far more awesome than you.”

Shinji followed Asuka into the Entry Plug. He knew that she really was a moron if she was going to go through with this and he had to be there in case she really did mess up in however dozens of ways possible. She may be a bitch but he wasn’t about to let her get killed.

Upon climbing in and the entry plug closed up Asuka began to speak the instructions. “LCL Fullung. Anfang der Bewegung. Anfang des Nervenanschlusses. Auslosung von Linkskleigung. Synchro-stat non!”

The internal computers began to click and turn on. The screens were changing color but then everything stopped and a single red word appeared over and over again across the inside of the entry plug. The word was “FEHLER”.

“Fehler?” Shinji said aloud.

“It means ‘error’, stupid.” Asuka grunted. “It’s thought noise. I told you not to disturb me.” “And what did I do?”

“You’re thinking in Japanese, aren’t you? If you must think do it in German!”

Shinji giggled. “Actually, I thinking both Japanese and English but I’ll try. Du Hast Mich. Du Reicht So Gut. Ich liebe Dich, mein Schatz.”

Asuka’s eyebrows rose before she barked, “Dummkoft! Nevermind! Switch language to Japanese.”

The moment she gave the instruction the word Fehler was gone and the screens began to show what was outside the Eva.

“Evangelion Unit Two. GO!” Asuka commanded and the Eva began to rise out of the pink liquid and push against the gigantic tarp like a sleeping giant.

“Abort!” The voice of the Admiral came through the entry plugs internal speakers. “Stop the Eva Activation sequence!”

“Don’t listen to that moron, Asuka! Go for it!” Misato cheered.

“What’re you doing!? That Eva and its pilot are under my jurisdiction! You’re violating my authority!”

“Who gives a damn about your procedures? This is an emergency!”

Shinji had to roll his eyes and smile upon hearing the back and forth argument between Misato and the Admiral. It made him think of two ants fighting over a cube of sugar.

“Oh dear lord.” A voice came through the speakers. “Unit Two is still using the B-type equipment.”

“What?” Shinji asked. He looked at the back of the entry plug. Right behind the pilots seat there were the printed words of B-TYPE EQUIPMENT. “If we fall into the ocean we’re screwed.”

“Then we won’t do that.” Asuka answered back.

“Brilliant.” Shinji muttered.

“Shinji, are you in there?” Misato asked over the intercom.

“In a word, unfortunately.” Shinji answered back with a laugh in his voice before he turned to Asuka. “Okay, time to kick some ass.”

“No need to tell me twice.” Asuka smiled as she took the controls and the Eva leapt through the air like some great hero out of an old world legend. And it landed feet first upon a nearby destroyer, pinching in its roof like it was aluminum. All the while the Eva still held onto the gigantic tarp like it was a cloak making it appear like a superhero out of a comic book.

Shinji looked to the internal clock.

“We’ve only got fifty-eight seconds left of power.” He reported.

“I’m aware of that!” Asuka snapped. “Stop side-seat driving, Yankee! Misato, move the power cable onto the flight deck.”

“You got it, Asuka.” Misato answered.

Through the entry plugs monitors they could see the waves and wakes of the underwater monster maneuvering between the ships like it was looking for something among the different ships.

“Now, let’s play hopscotch.” Asuka said.

Shinji looked at her and then at the ships. “Oh you’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

Unit Two leapt once again, this time it threw off the gigantic tarp. If Shinji were standing on the flight deck of one of the nearby ships he would have been awestruck by seeing this great machine being able to fly through the air. It seemed so absurd by the sheer fact that the Eva was so many tons in weight and yet it could leap so easily.

It wasn’t really hopscotch as Shinji saw it. It was more like leapfrog.

Within a few jumps they were close to the aircraft carrier.

“Eva Unit Two coming in for a landing!” Asuka announced.

The Eva landed upon the flight deck of the aircraft carrier making it tilt and sending several of the fighter planes into the ocean before at last coming to a balance. A fair distance away the wakes made by the Angel were coming in rapidly. Shinji wished that he could use the ring but all opportunities were gone the moment that Asuka had yanked his hand and tried to show off her “superior Eva”.

“Switching to External Power.” Asuka announced and the countdown stopped. “Switch completed.”

With the power problem taken care of, Asuka had made her Eva draw out its progressive knife. It held it out like a street gang member ready to have a knife fight. Looking towards the incoming waves and wakes they saw the Angel arise out of the waves. Its body was long and pale beige similar to the skin of a beluga whale. Sitting atop of a ridge there was that tiny skull that Shinji had seen before in the face of the Angel that he had fought. It was a round circle with a long downward protrusion like a fang while sitting in the center of it were two black dots like dolls’ eyes.

“Shit, that’s huge.” Shinji uttered.

“The bigger they are…” Asuka smirked.

The Angel leapt out of the ocean like a flying fish. It’s body covering the entire flight deck of the super aircraft carrier. Its weight caused the might ship to sink further down until the water had nearly reached and splashed up upon the deck. The sudden shock had caused Unit Two to loose its progressive knife but the Eva was too busy struggling against the sheer weight and will of the Angel. Its mass had shoved the Eva to a section of the ship where there was a small vehicle elevator. The Eva’s foot tripped into it and that sent it and the Angel tumbling into the ocean.

“Asuka!” Misato called out. “It’s impossible to fight underwater with the B-type equipment.”

“You know what they say you never know until you try.” Asuka retorted.

“Yeah and they already tried it. That’s why it’s impossible.” Shinji interjected.

“Oh butt out, Third Child.” Asuka growled.

The Angel swam and wriggled its head from left to right. All the while Unit Two held on for dear life as if the Angel’s face was the only thing holding it from death.

“The cable’s about to run out!” Misato shouted through the cockpit speakers. “Brace for the shock.”

Within seconds, the Eva snapped to a stop and floated while the Angel swam away like the one catch that had gotten away from the fisherman’s hook.

“Ferdunt.” Asuka grumbled.

Even with the sheer adrenaline rush of fighting the Angel, Shinji couldn’t help but look out of the cockpit windows and look at the sunken city streets and buildings below. Each of them crumbling and rusting from the salty and slightly polluted waters. Even though it really wasn’t the time to reflect upon it, Shinji couldn’t help but feel a little saddened by what he saw. That was when he thought about how it was the fault of the Angels that the city was a sunken wreck. He turned his attention back to the open ocean looking for signs of the son of a bitch.

Instantly, there was a pop-up window showing a magnification of one area within the screen. It was the Angel approaching the Eva with speeds that would rival a shark.

“Here he comes.” Shinji whispered.

“He won’t get away from me this time.” Asuka grunted as she took hold of the controls but the Eva did not respond. “What? It’s not moving!”

“Told you, it’s B-Type Equipment.” Shinji repeated.

“What’re you going to do?”

“What am I going to do?”

“You’re the famous Third Child. So do something.”

“Oh so now you need my help, don’t you?” Shinji rolled his eyes but then snapped his attention back to the screens and saw the Angel was only a few hundred meters away.

Its mouth opened wider than any oceanic beast that was or ever had been. Within the gum lines of its jaws were several rows of long dagger-like teeth. A long, thick and pink tongue led the way to a red core that hovered at the back of the Angel’s mouth as if it were its uvula.

“T-teeth.” Asuka shivered.

Within seconds the jaws of the Angel had come down upon the Eva like a worm on a hook. It shook its head from left to right so vigorously that it knocked Shinji from where he was and threw him over Asuka’s lap.

“Get off my lap, you pervert!” Asuka shrieked pulling at Shinji’s face to get him off of her.

“Oh for god’s sakes, not now!” Shinji yelled back before pulling back and crouching near the pilot’s seat.

He kept looking around the cockpit screens and only saw the inside of its shut mouth with the red core floating just out of hands reach of Unit Two. Looking at the teeth of the Angel something had clicked inside of Shinji’s head. He began to hear a melody in his head.

Duh duh... duh duh... duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh...

“Hey, ever seen ‘Jaws’?”

“What’re you babbling about, Third Child?” Asuka demanded.

“I know what Shinji’s talking about.” Misato said. “And I have an idea. Admiral, I need your cooperation. Here’s the plan. We’ll sink the two remaining battleships, the Illinois and the Kentucky, in line with the umbilical cable as a trap. When the Eva opens the Angel’s mouth the ships will in. Once inside, both ships will fire their bow cannons and self-destruct via remote control and thus destroying the target.”

“Preposterous!” They heard the Admiral say.

“Preposterous maybe but not entirely impossible.” Misato answered back. “Shinji. Asuka. Do you understand the plan?”

“Got it.” Shinji said maneuvering himself closer to the pilot controls and placing his hands upon them.

“Hey! Don’t pilot my Eva without my permission!” Asuka protested slapping her fists against Shinji’s back.

“Will you concentrate on the problem at hand?” Shinji growled. “Or do you want to die today?”

They heard Misato give the order. “Reverse the cable!”

There was a severe yank backward. The cable was being reeled back up the super aircraft carrier and it was pulling the Angel up to the surface and the sinking battleships were only a minute away. The time to defeat the Angel was coming close.

“Hey, are you rubbing against me on purpose?” Asuka yelled. “Cut it out you dork!”

“Jesus Christ! Will you shut the fuck up!?” Shinji spat. “Concentrate goddamn it! We have to open the mouth!”

“Just don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Whatever. Just do it.”

Asuka placed her hands upon Shinji’s.

“Open! Open! Open! Open!” Shinji thought while grinding his teeth.

Within the Angel’s mouth, something had happened, Unit Two began to move its eyes opened and within its black sockets two pairs of glowing slits had shone through. One hand went for the roof of the mouth while the other went down to the jaw. They push and pushed open the mouth until the Eva was not only free but it was wide enough for the sinking battleships that were only seconds away.

“Smile, you son-of-a-bitch.” Shinji smirked.

The ships rammed through cracking away its teeth and making the creature look as silly as a man trying to shove more than one hot dog into its mouth.

“FIRE!” Misato cried out.

The battleships fired its cannons and the creature began to bubble from within like a popcorn bag ready to burst until at last it exploded in an underwater cloud of pink and purple. On the surface of the ocean there was an upward eruption of water and at the top of it was Eva Unit Two that flew up and out like a child’s bath toy that had slipped out of grip. At last it landed face first upon the deck of the aircraft carrier. With its umbilical cable lost in the explosion its battery coming to a halt with a dying whir.

* * *

At the docks of New Yokosuka (Old Odawara) the damaged Eva and the damaged fleet were pulling in. Shinji, Asuka, Misato, Toji and Kensuke had already disembarked and had come back onto land where Doctor Akagi was waiting for them. Misato had an armful of printouts that she handed to her.

“My-my-my. Looks like this one put you all through the ringer.” She observed.

“I should have anticipated it.” Misato apologized. “But at least we collected a lot of valuable data.”

Doctor Akagi looked it over. Her eyebrows rose. “Misato. This data is important.”

“Why’s that?” Shinji asked.

“It appears that you two broke your synchronization ratio record.” Doctor Akagi answered.

“But only for seven seconds.” Misato added. “Must have been because of the danger.”

“Or because we were concentrating.” Shinji countered. “But there’s something that was weird about that whole thing.”

“What’s that?” Misato asked.

“The way the Angel attacked. It’s like it was looking for something.”

“Could have been Unit Two.”

Shinji shook his head. “I doubt it. If it was looking for Unit Two it would have done more than just bit into it.”

“Oh well. One more mystery that probably won’t be solved today.”

As the two of them were conversing about it, they didn’t notice how Asuka kept looking around everywhere like a little girl looking for her father.

“Hey, where’s Kaji?” Asuka asked with anticipation in her eyes.

“He took a powder.” Misato sneered. “He’s probably back and the headquarters by now. That jerk.”

* * *

“My goodness that was an eventful trip, wasn’t it?” Kaji remarked looking away from the window of Commander Gendo Ikari’s Office. “Was it caused by this? I wonder.”

He stepped closer to Gendo’s desk where there was an abnormally thick case that had all kinds of warning stickers on it, including “Biohazard”. Gendo had opened the case and a mist wafted out of it and the two of them looked down at its contents.

“Quite amazing that it has restored itself this far.” Kaji observed. “It’s frozen but still alive. So this is the key to the Human Instrumentality Project, right?”

“Correct.” Gendo confirmed. “This is the first human being. This is Adam.”

“By the way.” Kaji said. “On my way here I met someone who has an interest in you. He also has come bearing a gift. He wanted to meet you directly but in light of circumstances he felt it best to meet you through me.”

“And who is this individual?”

Out of the shadows behind Kaiji came a very tall man with purple skin, yellow eyes, pointed ears, slicked-back black hair and a pencil thin mustache. He was dressed in a black suit with a yellow tie and carried a yellow case.

“I shall tell you after I give you this.” He said as he set the yellow case on the desk. Upon opening it Gendo Ikari looked inside and found a yellow lantern and a ring.

“What am I supposed to do with these useless trinkets?” Gendo asked.

“You see so little potential in anything.” The strange man had stated. “But I knew that you were the best candidate because my ring could sense the fear within you. It can see into your mind. You fear the old men that may stop your goals. You fear that you may fail in your endeavors. You fear you will never see your wife again. And that fear will give you power. And that will be channeled through these. Give me your hand.”

Gendo wasn’t a man who took orders very well but something compelled him to lift his hand to the purple skinned man who grabbed his wrist, took the ring out of the case and shoved it onto his finger. There was an eruption of yellow light and Gendo Ikari found himself wearing a skintight uniform with a strange symbol on his chest and the ring was glowing with that same yellow light.

“What is this?” Gendo asked.

“This is a weapon of fear.” The purple-skinned man answered. “My name is Sinestro. And you are now part of my corps. Now say it.”

“In blackest day, in brightest night,” Gendo uttered, “beware your fears made into light. Let those who try to stop what’s right, burn like his power…Sinestro’s might!”

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Shinji’s school, Toji, Kensuke and Shinji were sitting at their desks discussing the events that happened out at sea.

“She may have been cute but she was a real bitch” Toji observed.

“Yeah, I’m certainly glad that’s over” Kensuke added, “and we won’t have to see her again.”

“But Mister Big Shot here will have to work with her. I really feel sorry for him.”

“Your condolences are much appreciated, Toji” Shinji grinned.

No sooner had the words been said that the door to the classroom had opened and the three boys looked and with shock, horror and revulsion they realized who it was when the young girl with flowing red hair passed the front rows to the chalkboard and wrote her name in German and Japanese. She turned around with a very pleasant smile.

“I’m Asuka Langley Sohryu” she introduced, “charmed huh?”

Next time:

Carrol’s Voice: After a very disastrous battle, Misato devises a plan so that Shinji and Asuka must work together but Shinji finds the situation to be very compromising since there’s too much at risk for his secrets to be learned. Will he still keep it hidden and manage to defeat the Angel with this new partner? Find out in the next chapter.

But I still think she’s a bitch.

Misato’s voice: Hey, don’t diss my pilots! And by the way there’s going to be fan service.

Neon Green Evangelion: Chapter 7 – Moving in, Close Calls and Dancing

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emotoothtiger · 4 years

Photo

Vintage pro kit.

I’ve just been given this. It’’s professional quality SVHS/VHS. It was first used at an event covered by BBC and ITV in the 90′s. The owner just blagged his way into the camera area and no one batted an eyelid. I was younger and tagged along ( it was great being beside all those big guys you can never see by definition. Somewhat intimidating cos we had to pretend we knew what we were doing and not lose our cool ). He used it for documentaries, but it was really a hobby. It wasn’t much used.

It was last used 5 years ago, and had developed a fault by apparently sitting doing nothing. Lines appear across the picture on the viewfinder, external monitor and also the tape.

It now has another fault. There’s a tape jammed inside.

I have no idea how to rescue it. I give up. It’s beyond me just now.

I tried a new SVHS 180 min tape and it went in, but didn’t have the oomph to engage, record, play or rewind. I’m thinking dried out internal gubbins like cogs or belts. But it ejected fine so I tried another, shorter tape ( VHS 66 mins The Plank with Eric Sykes). It didn’t like that and there it remains. Ho hum.

BTW I see standard 8mm kit is popular. A clockwork 1938 cine camera just went for £150 on ebay, being sold by a cinematography student who used it for his course. I can see why standard 8mm survives. It’s just 16mm double perf with twice the perfs along each side. You just punch more holes in the 16mm film stock and bingo! No trouble to make, really as 16mm is still on the go, and always bridged the gap between amateur and pro. As standard 8, it comes in 25 ft rolls of 16mm and you expose half the width, turn the film over in the dark, use the full take up spool as the feed, expose the other half. It the lab, it’s slit lengthways down the middle and spliced in the middle, making 50 feet of 8mm, giving something like 5 mins at 18fps if you’re lucky.

Super 8mm came in handy 50 ft cartridges, and was introduced about 196(3?) It had smaller perfs, a larger picture and was streets ahead in the home market. So much easier to use! Sound was easier to add too, as you could buy it pre striped with a tiny bit of tape at the the edge of the film, or one each side for stereo. Your sound cartridge had an extra recess for the recording head, 24 frames ahead of the light aperture.

Standard 8 had no sound. It was totally separate and always required a separate recorder, which, for ease, was another person with a tape recorder and the mic. On the film afterwards the stripe was physically added. A tiny spool gave up tape to a bath of cement glue and the tape was then glued to the film edge as the two merged. It was quite possible to make an arse of it and get the tape all over the place!

The sound head was 40 frames ahead of the gate on the projector as sound equipment wasn’t very miniature back then. Synching during editing gave you oodles of dedicated fun as you had to transfer the sound from the source (cassette or reel to reel tape) and sunch it to the film which, of course had to be kept absolutely in phase viz synched via all sorts of cumbersome skullduggery.

So sound super 8mm cartridges were a blessing. By 1980 you even had optical sound in the mass home movie market. Video hadn’t killed the radio cine star. A polyester based film stock called single 8 came out, about the same time. It was actually super 8mm, but the end product you watched was about 1/3 the thickness and used dyes to replace the light sensitive film grains. For some reason it used a cassette, so the holding device was totally different from the cartridge and required a different camera. It also couldn’t be splice by cement ( glue ). You had to use tape ( clear adhesive tape, sellotape, NOT audiotape! I thank you for getting this far- just making sure your attention is not overtaxed ;)

The practical upshot was that you could fill a reasonable sized auditorium with a decent sized high resolution picture.

One benefit was that you could get films that were banned. The Exorcist was one for e.g, famously banned for a long time in the video market yet readily available on super 8mm in various edited reels, say 600 ft, or full length if you were rich. Because of the expense, editing was not only a certification thing, it was also about making a product affordable in a condensed form. Reels were 50, 200, 400, or if your projector was capable, 600 and 1200 feet capacity. You cold have two projectors and show like a pro with changeovers.

One of the greatest benefits was the speed and reverse functions in an auditorium. You’ve never lived till you’ve seen full screen reversed porn. It’s guaranteed to reduce the auditorium to hysterics, especially when you see the bloke wenting or over his partner’s face like frogs up a pump on acid.

#ibbings

0 notes

tracyloveswork · 7 years

Text

Rise of the Poor Image

Interview with Zack Rosenberg, Trust﹠Safety/Community Representative, Tumblr and Amanda Brennan “Meme librarian”, Content﹠Community Associate, Tumblr

In Hito Steyerl’s essay, “Defense of the Poor Image,” she suggests that the worth of a digital image could be judged on its speed and penetration rather than resolution. In this case, we would give the greatest worth to the poorest image of all, the GIF.

An early file format for the internet, the GIF could provide a simple animation without requiring a plug-in at a small file size. With the onset of Flash and greater bandwidth, the use of the GIF fell out of favor but endured on message boards and forums. It’s ability to portray small loops of visual data found a new life embedded in online conversations. Its resurgence is due to its ability to translate information into a distilled and often entertaining format. It stands in the place of words.

Vintage Dancing Baby GIF

In Wim Crouwel’s “Type Design of the Computer Age” he felt that the computers will bring the development of new characters and communication symbols. This has come to be, but not through reinventing fonts, but through the creation of memes, emoticons and reactionary GIFs. This could be the universal pictorial language that Charles Bliss was seeking with his Blissymbolics.

The speed and penetration images can obtain on the internet, also has concerns for the creator. Steyerl speaks to how piracy is a threat to mainstream channels but can also provide exposure to works that are considered less commercial. How does a creator balance the threat and the benefit?

The Falcon goes into hyperdrive.

Many digital copies are also cut, edited and transformed into new works. This could be considered transformative but it could be appropriating. In the age of social networks and fandoms, how does someone protect their work?

Tumblr is a social network built around the idea of microblogging. Small digestible bits of media, a quote or a link are shared amongst followers. It invites discourse through posts versus the long diatribes you see on other blog platforms. It is also known for its audience’s embrace of the GIF.

Hope you like cats…

Tumblr is known for posting quick little things, microblogging and lots of sharing of media. Is that how you guys see yourselves?

Zack: I always like how it was explained to me, and how I explain it when I am on panels. Whether you are a creator or someone who is passionate about something, you are a curator of content that you believe in.

It’s almost like creating a museum of my personal passions. When you go to my blog it’s about my dog, really tasty food or comics and animation. It encompasses process… And what I mean by process is how to make an illustration or something move. The platform really goes into that well... as that backend look at how things are made.

To really boil it down, it’s my own museum of what I like.

Amanda: The way we frame it from the marketing side, is that Tumblr is a place to share your passion. And you can be passionate about a TV show, about food, about dogs… But this is where you go to meet the people who share your interests. And really dive into the community of people who love the thing as much as you do.

Original Longcat

And to compare it to something like Pinterest… When I think of someone who is using Pinterest, it’s usually a mom looking for a recipe or someone looking for a workout, or someone looking for wedding stuff. Here on Tumblr, it is more like that fandom activity where people are looking for TV show gifs or the latest Honey post. You might find that on meme site, or FB, but Tumblr is where people get a little weird and shout out their deepest weird feelings about the thing that they love.

Zack: To add to that… I think it is about creating content to have a conversation. Which adds another layer and what I find fascinating (and we talk about this in our metrics panels) is that people are sharing feelings and posting entire conversations in tags or gifs. And driving this sense of unity... because “I feel that too”… I feel that same thing via this fandom or this thing happening in the world. Let’s connect and join together and have a community of friends strictly on the platform.

It’s almost like it’s own visual language with emoticons and the memes. You can really have a whole conversation.

Zack: I can pull conversations, and they are just all GIFs. We are just responding to each other based on reactions from our favorite types of media. It’s such a fascinating cultural thing that we have gotten ourselves into.

Gleeful Wonder Woman

Apple just installed a feature where can pull GIFs directly into your responses and making that more accessible. Seeing that trend being baked into other products and how Tumblr contributed to that, is a cool accomplishment.

Amanda: If you are thinking about a GIF as language, there is a really good talk by Kenyatta Cheese on how they have come to define language. And how it evolved both with the internet and as a file format.

Zack: He dressed as an internet meme… that blew my mind.

Amanda: The culture has involved so much. I just got back from a cat convention. While I was there I presented a talk on the history of cats on the internet.

We started 1998 with the first use of emoticon cats in Japan, then we go through Long Cat, Nyan Cat, LOL Cat and Pusheen. And in the back row of this event, there were these women with gray hair and they all had they all had their flat Instagram cats.

Nyan Cat

At the end, I asked everyone who had participated in this sort of thing to send their URL and posted them on screen. Most people had 10-20k followers on Instagram, including these older women who you wouldn’t think of as someone who is very active on social media, but here they are… Coming to a convention to meet people their “cat crew”… with the flat cats. They are really owning their identity on social media. And this very heavy image focused community of cats. It was a weird time.

Zack: I am so jealous…

I understand because I am crazy dog owner. My fiance runs a Groot, my dog, Instagram blog. It’s as if it’s him talking and enjoying the world.

She has created a persona of him where he is writing the blog and his followers have been increasing by 10-15 each week. That is pretty good because it is just a back-burner project. One post a day kind of thing. It’s just funny to see how it is contributing to that dog community. Other dog blogs follow him… which is like surreal to me. People doing the same exact thing with their dogs. And I find that awesome.

Pusheen!

What I find interesting about what you just said, Amanda, is that there is a history to the cats on the internet. It seems you are trying to give credit to people who created these images. There are so many floating around without regard for ownership... People taking things and appropriating ideas.

Zack: And that’s my department. I am a trust and safety agent and a community representative in terms of trust and safety. Part of the job is moderating anything that infringes on copyright, DCMA, and that inlcudes GIFs. Technically there has been no legal precedence over how a sense of ownership goes over a GIF.

Because they are almost transformative…

Zack:They are transformative enough to be your own content, so we are actually going to honor people’s ownership. We have certain policies and procedures that can prove that you created the GIF first. We all have that metadata, that is not user-facing. People often come back with “that is from a movie, how can they have ownership over a GIF.” One, there is no legal precedence and two, it is transformative enough by law to be considered fair use and their property.

It’s like sampling in music.

Zack: Yeah… It’s a very interesting case. For one, most people do not understand copyright law… like just the general public… Which is a challenge in itself. We can’t educate users because that will put us in a gray area if they misinterpret what we say. We can only point them in the right direction. So often we will be like “now is a good time to read about copyright law, here’s a link.” We give them more of an informed direction.

Need a Nap

There’s a lot of interesting things going on with people who are creating their own content on Tumblr in how we define that sense of ownership and who owns what. There was a famous court case where (and we love to tell this story at our panels at Comic-Con) a guy was traveling overseas and a monkey took his camera. The monkey took a bunch of pictures with his camera. Eventually, he got his camera back and posted the photos online. A bunch of outlets took the photo and posted it. He felt it was copyright infringement, but a judge ruled that because he didn’t take the pictures, it wasn’t. The monkey took the pictures and the monkey owned the copyright. And that’s it. You have to be the one to create the visual aspect. And that’s an interesting aspect to how we distribute content. Especially when it comes to photos.

And then there are certain parameters when it comes to the more dark web stuff… like privacy infringement. California specifically has changed privacy laws in response to the internet. We are generally heavy-handed when addressing privacy because we don’t want to be in the position of potentially breaking any laws. And that isn’t just photos. It’s phone numbers and other information that would not be public.

I could chew your ear off on policy all day…

How does a privacy policy work with memes?

Amanda: It’s so hard. I have been doing meme work now since 2011. We have shifted from “Oh, these are random images floating around the internet”, like Nyan Cat and Long cat. All of the old cat memes… No one knows the names of those cats or who owns those cats. It’s very hard to track down the information because someone just put it online on Funny Junk or some other site. People think that it can’t be traced back to me, because no one should know who I am on the internet.

Then as Facebook rolled out and the internet became more prevalent in our daily lives, things shifted. That’s when people became like “Oh, I have ownership of my internet content.” And that shift into “I own this and this is my copyright, and you can’t steal it.” has started happening. And we saw that as YouTube rose and the appearances of “Grumpy Cat”. That’s when the owners were like “This is my cat, this is my content I am making about my cat.” They got this micro-fame where they were able to turn it into money. You saw this with YouTubers like Tyler Oakley, who was able to build a brand on his internet content.

This was about the time when Fuck Jerry started to become popular. Fuck Jerry started on Tumblr as a meme repost site and Instagram account that steals everything from everywhere, and isn’t concerned with copyright. "It’s out there and now it’s mine". He has built a whole empire and made tons of money. His empire is built on stealing.

Haters Gonna Hate

There was also copyright issues around the dress. The dress that broke the internet. The girl who posted the photo did not take the picture and did not own the photo.

Zack: I remember that day because I was called down and asked: “Do you see this?” And I thought I was going crazy. I saw “blue/black”.

Amanda: I saw both… my eyes kept flipping back and forth… I really thought I was dying.

And the trend now is private facebook groups where people are making and sharing content. Then if it gets out and becomes a really big thing, do you want to admit that you made this thing in a secret FB group? The copyright thing gets blurry. Some people want to say “I own this thing and I am going to shout to the ends of the earth” and some are like “hmmm… I guess I made that. I am just going to step away from it and let the internet have it.”

Zack: There really are those two polar opposites. Working directly with it, there are people who understand the copyright laws and procedures. You swear an oath when you file a DMCA claim so we (Tumblr) are not liable. It’s a dispute between the two parties. But doing that scares a lot of people and that’s legitimate. There are people who say “I made this content” but I am not comfortable swearing an oath. Or I don’t have any proof of where it came from. There’s nothing we can do and it’s at the offending parties digression to remove the content.

Brain Freeze

The trend that I’ve been seeing, and you will see this in a lot of GIFs, people have their specific kind of signature. You’ll have these translucent tags to their blog or a copyright watermark symbol.

That trend has become more and more apparent because creators want that sense of ownership. It’s really a part of meme and GIF culture. We ask “How did you create this or make it look that way?” so we can confirm it is transformative. And then they can add a signature to it.

When we speak with artists, such as comic artists at our Comic-Con panels, we tell them “That’s the biggest thing you should do.” To prevent people from reposting or taking credit for your content, just add your name so it can’t be easily removed from the images or cropped out. It’s evolved to the point where people feel they need to protect what they create. Which is fair.

Protecting your ideas is important but there’s great benefit to people getting their stuff out there as well.

Zack: Certainly. Exposure is nice. If you are a creator and you want your content to be seen, you should put up as much as you can. If it ever comes to protecting your work, you do have that right.

I hear people say, “I don’t use Tumblr because my content is always reposted.” My response is that there is a team working around the clock to protect your content. You don’t have to file any type of government papers, as long as you are 100% sure that it’s your content, it’s safe. If that is someone’s reservation, what’s stopping you?

Every company legally has to have a team to protect from infringement and misattribution. Regardless.

Find your reactionary GIF

Click a button to display reactionary GIFs.

As they appear, you can click on individual GIFs to toggle between animate and pause.

Add a reaction:

Submit

// Create array var topics = ["wut", "dramatic", "dramatic chihuahua", "omg", "shocked"]; // Functions function renderGIFButtons() { // Clear buttons before appending $("#displayGIFButtons").empty(); // Loop through topics array for (i=0; i < topics.length; i++) { console.log(topics[i]); // Create button var a = $("<button class=\"giphy_button\">"); // Add class of topic a.addClass("topics"); // Add data-attribute a.attr("data-name", topics[i]); // Add text to button a.text(topics[i]); // Append buttons to div displayGIFButtons $("#displayGIFButtons").append(a); } } // Add topic to array $("#submitGIFButton").on("click", function(){ // This line prevents the page from refreshing when a user hits "enter". event.preventDefault(); // Get input var newTopic = $("#addTopic").val().trim(); // Add to topics array topics.push(newTopic); // Clear input field $("#addTopic").val(""); // Reset buttons renderGIFButtons(); }); // Function to display Gifs on click function displayGifs() { // Get topic name from button var topic = $(this).attr("data-name"); // Build url to use in query to API var queryURL = "https://api.giphy.com/v1/gifs/search?q=" + topic + "&api_key=dc6zaTOxFJmzC&limit=10"; // Clear old Gifs $("#gifImages").empty(); // Ajax and API $.ajax({ url: queryURL, method: "GET" }).done(function(response) { console.log(response); // Create loop to create divs for the 10 gifs in the response array for (i=0;i<response.data.length;i++) { // Create div for gif var gifDiv = $("<div class=\"giffy\">"); // Create variable for rating var gifRating = response.data[i].rating; console.log(gifRating); gifRating = gifRating.toUpperCase(); // Create and populate p to hold rating var printRating = $("<p>").text("Rating: " + gifRating); // Append to gifDiv gifDiv.append(printRating); // Get image urls var imgURL = response.data[i].images.original.url; var imgURL_still = response.data[i].images.original_still.url; // Create img var imgGif = $("<img height=\"200px\"data-state=\"still\" class=\"gif\"/>"); imgGif.attr("src", imgURL_still); imgGif.attr("data-still", imgURL_still); imgGif.attr("data-animate", imgURL); //Append to gifDiv gifDiv.append(imgGif); // Append gifDiv to gifImages div on page $("#gifImages").append(gifDiv); } }); } // Create initial buttons on page renderGIFButtons(); // Adding click event listeners to all elements with a class topics because the buttons are created dynamically $(document).on("click", ".topics", displayGifs); // Toggle animation on gif $(document).on("click",".gif", function() { // Create variable to get image state var state = $(this).attr("data-state"); console.log(state); // Check and see if it is animating or not if (state == "still") { // Change to animating src and change data-state $(this).attr("src", $(this).attr("data-animate")); $(this).attr("data-state", "animate"); } else { // Change to still src and change data-state $(this).attr("src", $(this).attr("data-still")); $(this).attr("data-state", "still"); } })

References/Links

Bad Monday

Steyerl, Hito. “In Defense of the Poor Image,” in The Wretched of the Screen. Eflux.com. Eflux, n.d. Web.

Kenyatta Cheese. “How Visual Media Affect Culture and Identity Globally”. You Tube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhN2Be4SPoE

Tumbler’s Fandometrics

Okrent, Arika. “In the Land of Invented Languages: A Celebration of Linguistic Creativity, Madness, and Genius”, Chapter 15, “Those Queer and Mysterious Chinese Characters”, pages 160-172. Spiegel﹠Grau Trade Paperbacks, 2010

Tumblr’s Meme Librarian Has the Best Job on the Internet. Washington Post.

How much is too much? Considering infringement

Further Exploration

Contents of Maggie Stiefvater’s Brain: Post on Piracy

Fandom | Funyuns | Onion Flavored Rings

Totino’s - Live Free. Couch Hard.

Gushers

FIAT USA: Archive

adamjk serious blog

drawing megan lynn

Check, Please!

Obama Transformative Piece

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theuniversalrecord · 5 years

Text

ADVANCE: Nebula Labs (part 1)

Author: L. A. Lanquist

Content Warnings: References to ableist language, imposter syndrome

Advance: Nebula Labs (part 1)

Nebula Labs: “The place where the future becomes realized.” It’s a bit of an over-the-top motto, but people don’t really think about that because, well, Nebula Labs is an over-the-top experience. When people go to the talks and the demonstrations and the expositions that show off the fancy new gadgets Quinn “Q” Foster and their people came up with, they see flashy new ideas with research to back it up. They see charismatic speakers telling everyone how this new invention will change the world. And everyone believes it once they hear Q talk--when they think about how far Human technology has come since back on Earth. They think about the Brain-drive readers and the autoflyers and all of the other things Q themself came up with. And everyone believes that we can “leap into the future” as Q always says.

I believe that too--I guess if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, at the Bayside District branch of Nebula Labs, ready for my first day. But I’m not one of those impressive people who give talks and make ground-breaking developments in science and tech. I just got lucky.

Just under a month ago, Nebula Labs hosted the Youth Advancement Competition and Fair, and I was one of the 100 winners. As a winner, I get to be a part of one of the Advance teams of Nebula Labs and learn alongside some other people my age from actual staff members of the Labs. So technically, I’m officially a part of the famous Nebula Labs. But I’m not a formally educated professional or a young visionary or an ambitious upstart. I’m just Leo. I just wanted to make an automated drone carrier to help my Mom when her chronic pain gets too bad. I honestly don’t know why they chose me as one of the winners. I was just hoping for a little grant money so I could build one that actually worked instead of a prototype.

Don’t get me wrong, though! I’m super excited! I get to actually work at a place as awesome as Nebula Labs! I’ll get to learn a lot, and I can maybe get a good reference to do some other interesting things in the future. Maybe I can also make some more friends while I’m at it.

But right now, as I’m standing outside the Bayside District branch of Nebula Labs, staring at the motto engraved on a stone plaque just ahead of the big glass doors, I can’t help but feel nervous. I mean--I saw some of the projects people were working on at the Competition. There were people working with enzymes and with quantum physics and with brain drive adaptation devices. Mine by comparison is nothing major--we’ve had drones and automation since the Earth days. I’m not exactly doing anything new.

Someone with bright purple hair tears past me towards the entrance doors. For a fraction of a second I almost think it’s Q in the flesh what with the bright hair color, but this is definitely not them. This person has a thinner build, white skin, and their hair is straight. They’re so different it’s hard for me to understand why I mixed them up.

Once I figure out they’re not Q, the dread hits me: I know who they are. I never got their name, but they were one of the most talked-about participants at the Competition. They’re doing something with Wormhole Mapping that’s really promising. There were even a few local papers that ran stories about them. They’re also someone I accidentally bumped into (literally) during the Competition. I was reading a text from one of my hometown friends wishing me luck and wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me and then--wham. Neither of us fell down or anything, but it was definitely a heavy jostle. I apologized, but they were pissed. I only managed to get out of it because they were too busy to stick around to chew me out, but from their tongue click, glare, and angry shout of “Watch where you’re fucking going, asshole!” I can tell they probably wanted to shout some more.

Of all of the branches they would go to--why did it have to be this one? Thankfully they didn’t recognize me from behind, but there’s no way I’ll be able to avoid them forever.

“You going in, kid?”

I jump, just a little bit. It’s an adult, with long brown hair that falls off to the left, exposing a shaved side of their head and a heavily pierced ear. Their style clashes with the bored look their face has--big eyes and a slightly open mouth.

“Yeah--” I manage to squeak out--“just taking it all in.” Wow, Leo. Taking it all in? Well, not the worst thing I’ve said under pressure.

They take a long look at me, then glance down at their watch. It’s one of those vintage silicone watches with the grey tinted screen and the weird, segmented lettering. “Well, suit yourself, kid. Don’t be late.” And they proceed to walk inside.

It can’t be that late, though. I got here at 8:30. I check my phone.

8:45.

Oh jeez--I am gonna be late. I still need to check in and find room 420!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I make it to the room at 8:54 only because I ran (I really did think the room was going to be farther away), and I walk in at 8:55 after waiting for my face to stop feeling so hot.

The room is small, four rolling chairs: three facing forward to the screen and the white boards, and one facing the other chairs off to the side next to the screen. Two of the three forward-facing chairs are filled. Seated in the middle of the three chairs is a girl who also looks like she’s about fourteen, tall with blonde braided hair, staring straight at her phone. Next to her on the chair farthest from the door is--by my own lack of luck--the angry purple-haired person from before, facing away from the girl. I guess I could look at the situation optimistically and think about how it’s lucky that the angry person’s not next to the empty seat, but that’s a bit of a stretch.

But hey! That girl might be nice. I went into this hoping that I could maybe find a friend, so let’s try our best!

So I sit down and ask the girl, “Why are you here?”

Fuck. She slowly looks up from her phone looking like… well… like I was a weirdo, which isn’t far off from the truth at this point.

“Wait--no--I meant--uhh like what was your project on?” Fuck. There’s no salvaging this.

She says simply, “Extreme distance laser perception.”

Long distance laser perception. I don’t have the slightest clue how you would study that. Or what the use of that could be.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Emily. She/her.”

“Cool. I’m Leo. He/him.”

“Nice to meet you.”

I really don’t know what else to say. Do I ask about her research? But what if the question I ask is so stupid that--

“What did you do?” she asks.

“Automated flying drones based off of Cephalo ships.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit different from what you did,” I say.

“Yeah.”

I get the feeling that she’s just not a very talkative person, maybe?

“That’s all you two could come up with?” the angry person sneers from the side.

Emily and I both turn to look--her, still composed; me, uncomfortable. Neither of us says anything.

“There was a whole year of time before the competition and all you could come up with were some long range lights and a drone that flies itself? I mean, the first one could be useful for reading the distance of a planet, but we’ve had drones for fifty years. What a joke. How did you even get selected? No one cares about drones that can pilot themselves these days!”

“Shut up!” I force out.

Look--it’s true that I don’t really deserve to be here, especially compared to someone who’s doing something so important as Wormhole Mapping, but that last part makes me mad. I’ve seen so many people say things like that to my dad--about how he should just go to the store himself and how he does it on some days but not others so why make his kid go to the store instead of focusing on being a kid. They don’t know anything, and they’ve never cared enough to learn.

“What did you just say?” They cock their head to the side and their purple hair sweeps ever so slightly over their face. Their chin is forward in a challenge.

“Just because you don’t know anything about it doesn’t mean people don’t care about it, so shut up.” I’m glaring past Emily, now, who’s slowly rolling backward in her chair away from the two of us.

“Oh I remember you now--you’re the fucker that bumped into me!” They stand. “Is that how you got in? You try to take someone else out of the game with stunts like that?”

I stand up, too. No way am I going to just take this without a fight. But as I’m thinking of what to say back, the door opens.

In walks the person who spoke to me out front with the piercings and the old-school watch, but their bored expression is now gone. In its place is a tight smile with their big eyes now squinting with a sharp stare.

“Glad to see you’re all getting along, because fighting isn’t allowed, and I’d hate for you to lose this opportunity to work at Nebula Labs.”

No one moves.

“Please take your seats,” they say. “We have a video for you to watch, and then we’ll make our introductions.” The two of us sit, Emily scoots her way back forward, and the video starts. It’s a brief, one-size-fits-all video of Q that talks about Nebula Labs and its mission. Q’s narration voices over images of the main branch in The Capital and of this one in the Bayside District, as well as a few photos of smiling staff members. It ends, dramatically, with the same motto that was on the placard outside: The place where the future becomes realized. The screen transitions to white and the music fades out.

“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way--” the pierced person from before starts--“My name is Robin Graham. They/them or she/her. I study delayed imaging, which I believe is going to be most familiar to you,” they say to Emily. “For you two, delayed imaging relies on multiple cameras, so to speak, placed at various extreme distances imaging the same place to get photographs of that place at different times. That’s the bare minimum, but you’ll be learning plenty about it over the next year or so.”

I almost expect the purple-haired angry person from before to roll their eyes or make some comment about how they already knew what delayed imaging is, but when I glance over, they’re staring at Mx. Graham in something akin to awe. It’s a weird shift, if I’m being honest.

“So long as you all follow the rules,” Mx. Graham continues with a pointed stare to both me and the purple-haired person, “you’ll be guaranteed to be able to learn from experts for the next year before the Winter Tech Summit in The Capital. You’ll also be allowed to participate in the Winter Tech Summit in some capacity, though what you do will be determined by an in-house competition in the Fall.

“At that competition, each submission will be judged by Q, themself, as well as a panel of experts within Nebula Labs each with their own specialty. Those that do well will end up presenting. Those that do poorly will end up doing support work to ensure things go smoothly and can try again in a future year.”

This sounds amazing! I know I don’t have a chance of doing something like presenting at the conference, but I might be able to meet some people who’d be interested in making production actually possible.

Mx. Graham continues, “As you all know, there were a total of 100 chosen winners of the Youth Advancement Competition. It’s likely, however, that some of them have already chosen not to continue on and that some will drop out as time goes on for various reasons. In that regard, I can’t prepare you just yet for who will be on the teams going up against you three--”

“What?” The purple-haired person says.

“Is there a problem, Kiran?” Mx. Graham asks, acting innocently.

All the purple-haired person--no--all that Kiran says is: “Teams?”

“Oh yes, you three will be working on a team together.”

“What?” Kiran is looking more and more irate as the seconds pass.

“If that’s a problem for you, you can always leave,” Mx. Graham says with a smile. “Each of the teams were compiled by Q, themself, so it’s a take-it-or-leave-it kind of situation. It would be a shame to have you go, but if teamwork isn’t something you can do, Nebula labs isn’t right for you.”

Kiran stays with their shoulders tense and their teeth gritted, but does not say another word.

“Good. Glad to see you’ll all be continuing on. I look forward to working with you all as your team leader.”

And that was that. Maybe I should leave after all.

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