#local storage

[soapdispensersalesman]

[vinzomagazine]

Discover the pros and cons of Cloud Storage vs Local Storage to find the best data solution for your needs.

[ak47akshat]

Can you copy local storage from one browser to another?

Copying local storage of one browser to another browser is fairly simple. Go to the browser you want to copy the local storage of, and in the console write the command copy(localstorage). Now go the browser where you want to paste the copied local storage, and write the following piece of code : const obj= press ctrv…

[techdirectarchive]

How to Configure Object First OOTBI Appliance

Undoubtedly, Object First Out-of-the-Box Immutability (OOTBI) storage ranks among the best storage appliances on the market today, specifically designed for the Veeam Backup solution. The same brilliant minds who developed and founded Veeam are behind the creation of OOTBI. In this article, we shall discuss how to Configure Object First OOTBI Appliance. Please see Set up Veeam Backup for…

[vespermyotis]

while i am more or less a factory for stupid AUs, i do think theres a solid case to be made for modern mutineers and the diy scene. i say this mostly because, while i think cornelius hickey would thrive in this environment (whether he genuinely enjoyed the scene or not), i met some of the worst men i knew at basement shows. real “wouldn’t need a desperate survival scenario to resort to cannibalism” kind of guys. terror mutineer kind of guys

like: yeah theyre self-professed anarchists but you do not want to know the particulars of their politics (or lack thereof). do not ask. the drugs are mostly bad, the music is mostly bad. billy gibson is going to kill himself on this most mediocre of thursday nights if he doesnt get out of this condemned church in the next ten minutes. trust fund baby charles des voeux is NOT paying that £5 cover and u cant make him (but he WILL be buying coke as soon as he figures out how to get inside). i was 20 years old bribing a man with his own ham sandwich not to drive home piss drunk after his set. and it worked. armitozer.

[isa-ah]

we’ve only added a few things so far, but here’s a wishlist to help us make this basement less Freezing Cold and Inhospitable. in the notes section next to each listing is the reward!

[averagecatdoodlesenjoyer]

My piece for @daily-teki's DTIYS !

[no-future-mudwasps]

Local_Storage_Only: PR, or The Stone’s Throw

[You gotta promise to be cool. There’s— there’s a lot going on.]

{Cowie—Bluelack— leans back against a cargo shelf in the rec bay of Jeweled Wings About. She looks tired. All three Mud Wasps present do.}

[Can we just be quick? I’m worried, we haven’t heard from Saleh in a minute.]

[She’s fine. Resourceful. …Likely scared.]

[But we’re not about to shoot my best friend, right?]

...

[…Okay. So, cutting to the chase— something happened to No Future. Marten’s NHP, it… got hurt, when the Horizon Needle activated, and Sal was trying to work on her subaltern when it circumvented the shutdown routine we were using to keep him still. He’s in Mechanical right now, and Saleh is locked in there with him. Hiding, probably— his SEKHMET protocol’s gonna make him gun for her on sight. None of us can get to the pilot seat, or comms, or even see the stupid blog because SHE was using the omnihook. So... We need help.]

[tj-crochets]

Do you think a mini claw machine would be a better way to let people get plushies for halloween? Or would it slow things down too much?

[haarute]

you know what. fuck it. i'm building this tonight.

[millipedegf]

endlessly pissed that type o's santana medley isn't actually on spotify ... listening to someone's mp3 rip uploaded as a fucking podcast isn't the same 😭

[ahedderick]

Bell peppers seem to LOVE a dry year. K meticulously chopped all these and I froze them spread out on a cookie sheet. Stored in a big ziploc bag, they will await the ripening of the tomatoes and the Days of Sauce. I need to chop some of the onions, too, because the ones we grew this year don't look like they're going to be good keepers. Sometimes you can store them long-term . . and sometimes you cannot.

My neighbor just drove his bobcat s-l-o-w-l-y up the lane to deliver a round bale for Hero and Missile. I gave him a big bouquet from the garden in trade.

[themuseumlady]

the importance of proper flag storage!

pictured above are two flag boxes - - the former, and the updated storage for a flag!

The (I am unsure of the exact dimensions but a bit bigger than 3x5 ft) flag was creased, crumpled, folded, and shoved into the tiny box a number of years ago. As we have been slowly working through out textiles collection, we came across it and immediately recognized its need for better storage.

when working to update and improve the storage for a flag, it is important to fold the flag in new places (with padding!!), to not further the harm that a crease will create over time

so happy that this flag has a new home !!

[fiddles-ifs]

ALSO As a reminder! Don't forget to export your saves! Itch.io is changing CDN's soon and it will bork all your cookies for the foreseeable future. You can use this handy tool over here!

[bmpmp3]

speaking of vsynth songs a while back i started making a playlist that was originally just gonna be every original song i like regardless of newness or popularity (i like having playlists that are several hundred songs long) but i got distracted and never did that past the first couple songs BUT i have since just been adding any new or new-to-me songs that i like, if u wanna see. like two thirds are pretty big songs with 10s or 100s of thousands of views, even millions BUT theres also some like 200 view wonders i think are really great!!

[no-future-mudwasps]

Local_Storage_Only: New Skin Shrine

No Future stands before the thing that is to be his body. It gleams dull spectrums in the light of the hangar, new-printed metal already patinae’d with iridescent green-and-ruddish stain, wrapped about in dark cloth. The headstone has long since resolved into its constituent shapes in his mind’s eye; a sitting giant, knees tucked high to hide their lowered head, hands wrapped about their legs and clutching at their scalp. A mourner through and through.

He wonders if that’s what he looks like. Not quite; but it’s not a shape he’s against. The drift is little enough to stem potential combat-chassis dysmorphia, a confounding if thankfully minor worry at the periphery of his thoughts. Hopefully it looks as good standing.

“Are you sure this’ll work out?” She can hear the nervous tremor in Caoise’s voice; she’s scared to lose another friend. It’s understandable. All the same, she nods.

“I really think so. I’m ready to— get on my way to the next chapter. Whatever that is.”

“We’ll make sure your setup is comfortable,” Saleh assures. “Let us know when you’re ready.”

Nofie takes a long, last look around at his friends, assembled in the hangar. He doesn’t think it will be the last ever, but with disconnect comes darkness, and she wants to hold this imagine sharp in her mind as whatever happens, happens. “…Ready,” she says, and with a thought and a flicked switch her subaltern goes dark.

Saleh and Caoise heave the heavy casket out of its housing like pall-bearers, lying it to rest on a wheeled workbench. Their movements are careful as they pull her along to the back of the crouching beast, the frozen wailer; hung-open panels reveal a long, narrow chute, a casket receptacle leading into the core of the chassis. When they raise their pall again, and balance Nofie ‘feet-first’ on the lip of the opening, they find the next motion as smooth as silk. The tolerances are perfect; a space made exactly to hold her. No Future slides into place with barely a hairsbreadth gap. A dull *cthunk* heralds connection, and…

Darkness. Thought alone, and the memory of those faces. Then, cold water along her spine. No Future stands, or slumps, or falls, on the edge of a beach he has never seen before; facing him is [you understand I need to preserve some sense of mystique], ankles wet in the clear tide.

“Was it always going to end this way?” No Future asks. “Could I have saved him?”

“You did,” answers [nuh uh], not unkind. “Many times. What found him no one could stop.”

“I wish that made it feel better. But what about the other ship?”

“Is he here now?”

“No.”

“Then you already understand. It was always going to end this way, because it did.” [sorry]’s hands spread wide; apology. Comfort.

“And what about everyone else? How do they end?”

And they respond

Are you kidding? Or does your name mean nothing to you? There is no end worth fearing.

The chassis stirs. Casket entry port seals over, armored in sloped plate. The skeletal mourner unclasps its hands from about its corse, each three-fingered with wicked talons. Its swift legs, built like a runner, unfurl as it stands, and its arms pull away from behind it— its left shoulder produces a single bicep, wheel-elbowed like a pictograph star and carrying upon it many forearms (the right shoulder unwraps but a single limb, lank and hidden until now). The head raises high on a neck of cable and verterbral binding, and it is a sharpened rhombal thing; Thracian eviscerated; a set of jaws locked agape and within, set at the throat lies a single, staring optic in harsh sunlit color. It is a fine skeleton of metal angles, a strange gladiator returned from beyond; and from within the snarled crest of the helm, a familiar voice resounds:

“…I don’t think I’ve been this tall before. We’ll take it!”