#redwood shores

[parttimegreaserwerewolf]

Slater sometimes struggles with kissing due to Mike's lack of a snout but he tries his best. Mike the monkey belongs to @r0tt13, art by him as well of course.

[devileaterjaek]

[kofencrew]

trying my best to use various doors n’ windows

[typroperties]

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[numberxxisora]

Last week, we went to play single holes on tournament grounds. I'm sure that I'll be able to swing my stick well... maybe.

[everygame]

Dead Space (Xbox 360)

Developed/Published by: EA Redwood Shores / EA Released: 13/10/2008 Completed: 27/10/2023 Completion: Beat it. Trophies / Achievements: 600/1000

I wanted to keep spooky season going, so I reached into an old, dusty cupboard, pulled out an antique tea chest covered in cobwebs, unlocked the chains that bound it and pulled out… a 2008 third-person shooter! Ooohhhhh, scaryyyyy! I didn’t even play the remake! Oooohhhhh!

Damn, this is 2008 as hell. Usually I’m thinking to myself, like “how much have graphics really changed since the Xbox 360 generation?” and then I play this and I’m like “Oh.”

(Which I actually think is mostly down to art direction, but that’s probably another conversation.)

I guess it’s just funny to go back to a major triple-A release of the era and see it’s, like, not open-world (it’s actually sectioned into levels!) and the different sort of derivative it manages to be. Set on a space station that’s been over-run with disturbing monsters made from the warped bodies of the dead, it’s *cough* quite clearly inspired by Event Horizon and Bioshock, with a central mind-bending twist that you’ll spend three-quarters of the game waiting to pay off because it’s so bloody obvious.

There’s some good to Dead Space. I think the combat system, which asks you to shoot the limbs off enemies to disable and kill them, using weapons with really nice, clear sights so you can aim successfully, is inspired. It’s a sensible length, too, clocking in at under 10 hours.

The problem with Dead Space is that there’s really only one kind of scare: the jump scare. Pretty much every encounter is either walking into a room and having an enemy jump out, or it’s doing something in the room and having… and enemy jump out. Or several enemies. Every enemy, also, pretty much just runs directly at you screaming, and with plentiful “stasis” (an ability that allows you to slow down enemies, making it easier to chop ‘em up) every battle I had basically devolved into me making my way into a corner and waiting for enemies to run towards me so I could dismember them.

So unfortunately Dead Space becomes really quite boring long before you’re done with it, so thank god it’s as short as it is. It’s possible you might invest in the story more than I did, but I found it a pretty ratty bag of cliché at least in 2023, and the game’s nod to puzzle solving is generally just dragging things around using your “kinesis” ability, which leads to what I consider the nadir of the game, the final level where you very… slowly… drag a huge monument around on conveyor belts. In fact the entire ending is a bit of a damp squib as you shoot weak points on a big boss that I wasn’t sure why I was fighting???

Pretty disappointing!

Will I ever play it again? I won’t play the remake, which sounds surprisingly faithful, and I think I might have a copy of the sequel or the third one lying around somewhere but I’m not enthusiastic about the idea.

Final Thought: Playing this got me thinking about Event Horizon, and here’s a couple of fun facts: one, apparently the film was inspired by Warhammer 40,000, with Wikipedia claiming "Fans consider Event Horizon to be an unofficial prequel to Warhammer 40,000, when humankind discovers the Warp and learns of its dangers the hard way." They do???

Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up a digital copy of exp. 2600, a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[yopossum]

My entry for @perotovar’s frith challenge is ready!! This story was incredibly special to me, and I am so grateful to Erin. My pairing was Silva/Ymir.

El Gran Varón

Main Masterlist

Warnings: M, 18+; grief, angst, historic homophobia, HIV/AIDS

Title borrowed from Willie Colón’s “El Gran Varón”

In memory of my uncle Mark, 1955-1992. The charming chap-wearing fixture at the Stud, a gay Irish radical activist and artist, a man who laughed and fought and lived and loved and died in San Francisco.

————————————————————————————

The land had been there, of course, and the people. Ramaytush Ohlone, the Coastanoans, the custodians of Yelamu. Long before the Spanish. Long before San Francisco and the insatiable maw of urbanization.

Long before boys paid the debts of men with their bodies, before they soothed those bodies with each other. Long before frozen deployments, blue discharges, that scarlet letter H. Long before soldiers set aside old lives and old loves. Long before tongues twisted and hands roved in shadows at the docks, in the bushes, in the rented rooms at the Embarcadero YMCA. Long before bathhouses and leather bars and flags and marches.

Long before familiar brown eyes glinted under the brim of a cowboy hat across the dance floor at The Stud. Long before an old spark became a bonfire, a hearth, a beacon. Long before a damp apartment became a heart’s home.

Long before a plague. Long before a glass milk bottle, always full of wildflowers, stood vigil on a windowsill over a busy sidewalk.

Long before Silva.

And yet, to Jake, it felt as if nothing had really existed before Silva did, and that the world he now occupied was built from pieces of him, rendered from his flesh and blood and bones and sweat and come and tears. Him, others like him, like Jake. Men who were strong and virile and hard and soft and sometimes even free.

But mostly, the world was made of Silva. He was the genesis, Ymir, the primal matter of all things. He was a great man.

Jake saw Silva in the soft rolling hills, the plush curves of his naked body spread across a shared bed, tawny earth brown flesh in the morning light. He saw him, too, a later Silva, in the jagged, jutting cliffs along the shore, bones of bedrock straining and angular under thin sandy skin.

He felt Silva in the sea, in the way it hung in the air here, that tang of their shared sweat salting Jake’s upper lip when they fought, danced, fucked, slept. When they cried out for more pleasure, for more help, for more time.

Silva was the redwoods, the thick brown silver waves of his hair their bark. A subtle sweetness, a woody, green earthy thing when Jake pressed his face into the nape of his neck, now perfuming the air of the grove with an impossible ache.

When the fog curled catlike into the bay, Jake felt its cool caress, welcomed the syrupy clouds that filled his head with thoughts of Silva, of his dreams, of his hopes, of his memories and fears, of how deeply he loved, and was loved.

Jake crouched down on creaking knees, ran a finger over the etched lines in the flagstone at his feet, and traced each letter as tenderly as if it was a laugh line carved at the corner of Silva’s eye, a furrow sculpted in his brow, the dimple nestled in his cheek.

He ran a rust red handkerchief across his face, the same color as that looming bridge, as the sunset settling over the park, as a lesion, as a bloodstain. He blotted at the wetness slicking his cheek, held it there before bringing it to his lips to kiss the threadbare fabric, breathing in the memories of the life of two men, who looked after one another, protected each other. Who kept each other company.

Jake stood with some effort, tied the handkerchief around his neck, and glanced around the circle of so many names before turning back to the one that was also chiseled in his being. With a nod and a soft smile, he said goodbye to the man who made the world, turned toward Stanyan Street, and resumed his nightly walk.

————————

Extras!

- Info about Ymir

- SF gay history

- Early queer culture in SF

- The Stud

- Timeline of the AIDS Crisis

- the National AIDS Memorial at Golden Gate Park

- “El Gran Varón” - Wikipedia

- Gorgeous moodboard from @perotovar to inspire me!

NP tags: @whocaresstillthelouvre @jennaispunk @tinytinymenace @sawymredfox @beefrobeefcal @timelordfreya @mothandpidgeon @crowandmousewritingco @sp00kymulderr @for-a-longlongtime @undercoverpena @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @hellfire-state-of-mind @goodwithcheese @sixhours @grogusmum @mountainsandmayhem @gasolinerainbowpuddles @schnarfer @jessthebaker @nerdieforpedro @thesluttylittleknee @lotusbxtch @yourcoolauntie @arcanefoxfics @toxicanonymity @burntheedges @artsy-girl-76 @ak-vintage @morallyinept @mando-abs @littleredpandanaps @ameerawrites @amanitacowboy @littlemissskuld @sizzlingcloudmentality @clawdee @syd-djarin

[strawberrykidneystone]

Shepard-Vakarian Love Nest

garrus vakarian x fem shepard

summary: garrus installs a security system while shepard redecorates

a/n: finished me3 and immediately replayed the whole thing again with slightly different choices,,, i'm obsessed and I need to cope with the heartache of leaving garrus behind to save the universe xoxo space jesus </3

tags: fluff to cope with the ending of me3, flirting, established relationship, shepard instead of y/n, colonist background shepardf if you squint

ao3 version

"garrus this feels a little... overkill."

"that's the point shepard, to overkill anyone who tries to break in."

shepard rolled her eyes playfully and looked around the apartment with her arms crossed. there were sensors on every window and door in the sizable apartment. she managed to talk him down from installing explosives inside, convincing him that it would be way too much paperwork and too much of a risk if she accidentally set them off herself. however, she had to give her boyfriend credit where credit was due, it did make her feel safer. especially since he installed thicker bullet-proof window panes and rolling steel covers for emergencies.

while he was working on making shepard's home safer, she was busy with making andserson's former apartment into her own. she wanted to make it less of a bachelor pad and more of a proper place where she and garrus could hang their hats at the end of the day.

while it was originally supposed to be a getaway just for her, it was too quiet for her taste, and more often than not she has the current and former crew of the normandy over whenever she could.

but for now, it was just the two of them.

she was comparing the current wood of the kitchen cabinets to a new red sample that she picked up. it felt a little silly to be concerned about the colors of the apartment while there were reapers destroying planets, but everyone needed a break now and then. this might be the last shore leave she would ever have. it was somewhat morbid to think about, the last time she had shore leave it was forced on her after she defended elysium despite all odds.

while she was lost in thought, garrus snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, "hmm i like the red, but a darker burgundy would look better."

shepard hummed and leaned her cheek against his, "i think that would look nice, you have quite the eye vakarian."

"i'm aware. you know i have great taste. especially in partners," he purred into her ear and nipped softly at her neck.

shepard chuckled and turned around in his arms, lacing her hands behind his neck, "that i'll have to agree with you on." she slowly unlaced her fingers and ran her hands down the front of his chest armor, looking up into his gorgeous cobalt eyes, "so, did you find the best vantage point to shoot intruders from?"

garrus chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking very sheepish. if turians could blush, he would be bright red. "there are quite a few adequate spots, however, i'll wait until you're done fully redecorating to make the spots permanent."

"'ppreciate that honey," she smiled and stood on her tip toes, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek plate.

shepard walked over to her personal computer and ordered the new redwood for the kitchen, along with new paint for the walls. all the white walls were so boring, customizing this place as her own home gave her hope, something that she could look forward to coming back to. having someone with her to share it with made it all the better, giving her hope for the future and something to look forward to once this was all over.

even if he does insist that they need the latest security systems that he personally has to inspect and install, not trusting anyone else to do it right.

of course, she also wanted garrus to add in his own decorations; pictures of his homeworld and family, traditional turian art pieces, etc. shepard was even planning to convert one of the empty bedrooms into a painting studio for him.

maybe one day they would fill it with human-turian babies, or a bunch of krogan, depending one how things went.

a/n: pls let me know if i made any grammatical or spelling mistakes <333

[talonabraxas]

I appear in sea, in wind, in soil, in starlight. In the sun I appear. I appear in mountains and desert rain. I am the star and I am the stone. I am bird and fish, sky and sea. One and whole eternally, I come, differentiating, multiplying, refracting like a ray of light through ten thou-sand water-droplet prism pearls suspended in earth's highest sphere. Shining I come, to touch the surface of this matter world in a splashing, multicolored chorus of light men and light women, created to bring beauty, love, order and grace to this sacred dance of atomic form. Stardust. Frozen starlight. You call it matter. It is an art form with which we have worked for twenty billion years. We have sculpted it into star systems, galaxies and a universe of rainbow-spectrum worlds. We are the children of light. We have been given the task of creating dimensional reality. We draw order, structure and beauty out of the vibrating music of starlight.

From the redwood forests to the microbes, from the gentlest feathered bird to the most substantial ocean whale, our spirits manifest the Creator's designs in all the biological life on this planet. Yet only human circuitry has the capacity to embody the full reality of who we are, of who that Creator is—of who, in truth, you are. Come, human children, the truth has always been here. Your prophets have ever made it plain. Wherever you have let us land, wherever you have let our consciousness settle upon the waters of your awareness, the open waters of your human hearts, ever w e have come to inhabit your shores. We are the superior intelligence that you are looking for in the galaxies. We have been in your parks, in your treetops, in your gardens, in cages in your livingrooms. We are the Bird Tribes. And we are returning. We are here to teach you how to fly. Take us out of your cages of concept and archaic definition. Come, join us in the living treetops, where the winds of spirit blow wild and free. We are the Bird Tribes. And we love the flowing, fluid, gentle waters of our Mother's eternal truths, as we love the stars that nourish and support these biological robes of dancing light. We will never be far from water or land, from light or sound, from the Father's fire or the Mother's gentle wisdom. For we are the Bird Tribes, entering this earth to swim beneath her waters as fishes of the sea, to walk on her land as the mammals and the humans of this age and to fly through her heavens on the wings of the Love that created us and creates us anew in each moment. Because we love these oceans. We love these lands.

We love this planet with an eternal fire that takes all the myriad stars to reveal in the fullness of time, but only one star to say to one world, “I love you this much, that I would give you all that I am; my fire, even to your ages of ice; all that I am, until we grow the children, until we conceive the offspring who will be equally a child of starlight's fiery love and an ocean world's gentle truth.” Awaken, humankind. The teachers of love circle round the morning star. Spiraling down. Coming to rest. They land. At the edge of your history's shore. Fluttering into consciousness. The Bird Tribes return. --Return of the Bird Tribes : Ken Carey

[parttimegreaserwerewolf]

The besties having a sleepover yap session. (Is it still a sleepover if you live together?) Jade the Rabbit belongs to @r0tt13, art by him as well obviously.

[mamadoc]

Hey there, I’m slow to post on here, but I posted the fifth chapter of my current Chenford story, Worth the Wait.

The outline of this story has 3 acts. The first and second act have a decent amount of angst (but no major character deaths). The third act is full of happiness and dreams coming true. If you’re not ready for angst right now, please protect your mental health and read some other fluff. But if you’re up for lots of angst with a happy ending, please read and enjoy the ride.

Here’s a segment of the story to pique your interest.

Ashley was staring mindlessly out the window most of the time, lost in thought. But Tim had a plan to make the trip back more interesting than just driving the 5 through the middle of California. He remembered a conversation they had had a while ago about wanting to drive along the Pacific Coast Highway. So, he navigated them around Monterey Bay where they stopped to see some sea lions. Then he drove her down to Big Sur to see Bixby Bridge and the gorgeous scenery there.

As they approached San Simeon, he stopped at the elephant seal colony to watch them flopping around awkwardly for a while. He offered to take her up to Hearst Castle, but she declined and gave him a funny look. I must have remembered that wrong, he thought to himself. Next, they stopped in Morro Bay to see Morrow Rock and watch the sea otters living their best life in the kelp just off the shore.

While they were in Morro Bay, Tim picked up some lunch, and they found a spot along the ocean to sit and eat. As he was eating his cheeseburger and fries, he said, “Well, is this trip down the coast as good as you thought it would be?”

Ashley squinted at him. “I mean, I love looking at the ocean,” she said hesitantly. “And seeing the marine animals along the way has been… interesting.”

Tim furrowed his brow at her. “But you told me a while ago that you always wanted to take this trip along the coast. We talked about what we would see and where we would go. I know we talked about going all the way north to see the redwoods, but if we end up living up there it would be easy to go another day. And you really wanted to see the otters and elephant seals and sea lions, right? You said otters were your favorite marine animal.”

She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment. “Actually, I hate seals and sea lions. They’re bossy and invade huge sections of the beach. Plus, they are so stinky and loud. Otters are fine, I guess. We don’t have issues with them in LA. But if I could find a beach where seals and sea lions weren’t an issue in California, that’s where I would prefer to be.”

Tim scrunched his brow in frustration. He knew they had had this conversation. That’s why he had researched all the vista points along the way to make sure that Ashley could see everything that she had wanted to see.

“Maybe you’re thinking about a conversation with Genny? Did she want to take her kids to see all the animals?”

“No. We talked about going to Hearst Castle, too, and Genny’s kids wouldn’t have enjoyed that.”

“Hearst Castle? Huh. That kind of thing doesn’t really appeal to me either.”

It took him several minutes to realize who had had this conversation with months ago. He remembered talking about making the trip together and all the things that they would see along the way. He even remembered searching for the best restaurants in the area. Then a light bulb flicked on in his brain.

Lucy.

It was Lucy that wanted to take this trip. Lucy that wanted to see all the marine animals and Hearst Castle and Bixby Bridge and the rock formations in Big Sur and the famous Pebble Beach tree. The whole conversation rushed back into his mind. They were at a stake out one night, and she just kept going on and on. But it kept both of them awake, so he just let her talk. And, not one to enjoy sitting idly, he had joined in her search for the best things to do and see and eat along the route.

Once he realized the mistake that he had made, he became quiet and focused on eating his food. Ashley noticed the shift as his posture and facial expressions changed.

After a few more minutes, she said softly, “It was Lucy, wasn’t it? You had planned to go on this trip with Lucy. She was the one that wanted to see all of the things you took me to see.”

Tim looked over at her in surprise. He didn’t have to say anything for Ashley to see the truth on his face.

“I think I’m done eating,” she said. Then she stood up and walked briskly away from him.

Tim quickly gathered the rest of their food and threw it in the nearest trash can. Then he jogged to catch up to her. When he found her a minute later, she was vomiting behind a shrub.

“Ashley…” he started, but she held up her hand to silence him.

When she was done throwing up a minute later, she took a wipe out of her purse to clean her face and hands. Tim had his mouth open, eager to explain himself, but Ashley glared at him. “I think I’d like to go home now. No more stops.” Moving quickly, she navigated back to Tim’s truck.

Crap.

He’d really screwed that up royally. How had he managed to think it was Ashley who wanted to take this trip? For a moment his mind imagined how excited Lucy would have been to see the sea otters rolling around and playing with each other or the elephant seals barking and rolling over each other or the extravagant and beautiful rooms at Hearst Castle. But he had to suppress those ideas down as far as they would go. That would never happen now.

Now he needed to focus on mending the tear in his relationship with Ashley. He jogged after her and helped her into the truck. The last two hours of the drive were in complete and heavy silence. The tension between them was palpable. Tim had tried to apologize several times, but Ashley wasn’t interested in hearing it.

They had to stop a few times along the way for Ashley to throw up. But when Tim offered to help or asked if she had her nausea medicine, he only got a stony glare in return.

When they made it to her apartment, he had to run to keep up with her. He tried to follow her into her apartment, but she turned around and blocked the entry. “I just need some space right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ash… Please. I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake. Really. Both of you really like the beach and the ocean, and I must have just mixed it up in my head.”

Ashley scowled at him. “How many of your coworkers have you ever gone on a trip with?”

He was surprised at the question. “Uhhh. None.”

“But you planned to go on this trip with Lucy?”

“She was just talking in the shop on a stake out. We didn’t… We weren’t going to go as a couple. And it’s not like we were actually going to do it together. We were just talking to stay awake and fill up time. At least, that’s what I think I remember,” he said as he thought about it harder again, his brow furrowed.

“See,” she said, pushing her index finger into his chest. “This is exactly what I’ve been trying to get you to see. Lucy was way more than your gopher or your partner to you. She probably still is.”

“She was my friend,” he said defensively. “You know that. But I did what you asked me to do. I haven’t talked with her since she visited me at the hospital. You already blocked and deleted her number on my phone. I don’t know what more you want me to do. I…”

“Save it,” she said abruptly with a fire in her eyes. “I…” she started, searching for words to match how she felt. “This is why I asked you to end your friendship with her. You two together…” She was at a loss for what to say and just stood there for a moment with her mouth open. Then she shook her head and said, “I… I just need some time alone. Don’t call me. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Read more here:

[kofencrew]

still working on the exterior but it’s coming along.

[otussketching]

Fossil Novembirb: Day 6 - Tropical Denmark

The Fur formation of Denmark preserves an interesting glimpse into the world of the Early Eocene Epoch, about 50 million years ago. Back then, Northern Europe was very warm thanks to global warming linked to the PETM, with subtropical redwood forest growing on the shore of a warm sea. And birds thrived on these tropical Nordic shores.

Eocypselus: An early relative of swifts and nighthawks with long legs and an insectivorous diet.

Pellornis: A tiny wading bird that was one of the earliest known gruiforms, making it an early relative of rails and cranes.

Morsoravis: A peculiar bird that may have been part of a radiation of stem-passerines and stem-parrots.

Septencoracias: An early relative of modern rollers, beautiful hawking birds that catch large insects and small vertebrates with their beak.

Scandiavis: A tiny wading bird and a probable relative of some modern waders, like plovers and sandpipers.

[jenjen4280]

Final day of vacation before heading home to snow! More redwoods, the Hot Wife and my Seester waiting for me to return to shore and stop screwing around in the Big Sur River, and dramatic coastline along the PCH.