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#vocal online training
tea-cat-arts · 4 months
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Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will
#svsss#scum villian self saving system#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#the fact that people think scum villain#-a series that examines and criticizes common tropes in fiction-#is somehow against criticism or being a little hater is wild to me#especially since shen qingqiu never gets punished for being a hater#heck- he's still a little hater by the end of the series#he mostly gets punished for treating life like a play and like he and the people around him are characters#(or in other words- he suffers for denying his own wants and emotions and his own sense of empathy)#I think some of y'all underestimate how much writing/art is inspired by creaters being little haters#like example off the top of my head-#the author of Iron Widow has been pretty vocal about the book being inspired by their hatred of Darling in the Franxx#I think my interpretation of Shen Yuan's transmigration is also supported by the fact that this series is an examines writing processes#side note- though i understand why people say Shen Yuan is lazy and think its a valid take it still doesnt sit right with me#i am probably biased because my own experiences with chronic pain and depression and isolation#but ya- i dont think Shen Yuan is lazy so much as he is deeply lonely and feels purposeless after denying parts of himself for 20ish years#like yall remember the online fandom boom from covid right?#being stuck completely alone in bed while feeling like shit for 20 days straight does shit to your brain#the fact that no one came to check on him + he wasn't exactly upset about leaving anyone behind supports the isolation interpretation too#+in the skinner demon arc he describes his life of being a faker/inability to stop being a faker now that he's Shen Qingqiu#as “so bland he's tempted to throw salt on himself” and “all he could do is lay around and wait for death” (<-paraphrasing)#bro wants to be doing stuff but is stuck in paralysis from repeatedly following scrips made by other people#another point on “Shen Yuan isn’t lazy” is just the sheer amount of studying that man does#also he did graduate college- how lazy can he really be#he doesnt know what hes doing but he at least tries to actively train his students#and he actually works on improving his own cultivation + spends quite a bit of time preping the mushroom body thing#+he's experiencing bouts of debilitating chronic pain throughout all this#but ya tldr: Shen Yuan's transmigration is an encouragement to write and not a punishment and also i dont think its fair to call him lazy
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bandzboy · 8 months
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i feel like discussing singing is more intricate and deep than some people make it seem because everyone is so different and their voices have different qualities to them because of genetics and how their body is and i think about this a lot about how... every voice is unique in their own way because it's not like an instrument it's something that comes with your body and so people just fail to realize these things when talking about vocals and singing
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monrosemeadows · 1 year
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raisevoice · 2 years
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Website: https://www.raiseyourvoice.net.au/
Address: Peakhurst, NSW, Australia
Raise Your Voice by Lea Baker offers expert vocal coaching, helping students discover their free, authentic, well produced voice.
- What I Do:
I help people find their freely produced, efficient and authentic voice. I love to teach and empower students. Each singer is different, there is no 'one size fits all'. My sessions involve lots of physical and vocal explorations, positive reinforcement and lots of encouragement.
Using actors' voice training techniques, I help singers find freedom through embodying their voice and releasing unhelpful tension.
I believe ‘trying harder’ nearly always leads to vocal difficulties. When vocalists discover the power and range of natural, organic and instinctive sounds, they grow in confidence and ease - often discovering the voice they didn’t know they had!
I help those who rely on their speaking voice for their profession, such as teachers, public speakers and call centre workers (to name a few!), avoid vocal fatigue, become more engaging to their listeners and maintain a healthy voice.
- What I Offer:
Success in learning depends on finding the right Instructor; someone who knows the subject well and understands how you learn. My teaching style is practical, holistic, non-gimmicky, and based on science. Students learn how to sing or speak optimally. Clear specific language and examples are used, leading students on a self-discovery journey.  Everyone has a voice. My job is to help you release its full potential.
Here are the four philosophies I follow:
* Trying harder will almost always lead to a deterioration in vocal improvement. It’s finding the ease in vocal use that is the key. Less is often more.
* The most freely produced and authentic singing or speaking comes from your natural, organic and instinctive voice. Often it's noticing and releasing unhelpful vocal habits & muscle tension to find that voice.
* I believe learning is about self-exploration and discovery, with guidance from your voice coach. Doing what the teacher asks to gain their approval isn’t learning.
* Training at NIDA opened up a whole new world. Using acting voice training helps singers to feel and sense their voice, rather than just hear it.
Why choose me?
* I help the student discover for themselves with guidance and targeted techniques.
* I take the time to understand the mindset of the student towards their voice and address this in my coaching.
* I teach holistically – I teach the whole person, not just their voice.
* Students get clear explanations of the ‘why’ when to comes to voice usage.
* My Teaching is underpinned by a good understanding of the science and physiology of the voice.
* Finding the unhelpful habits or traits of the student and helping them rewire these.
* Experiential learning is key, helping students to discover for themselves, no “pleasing the teacher”.
* Learning is layered. What each particular student needs at this particular time. I don’t clutter them up with lots of ‘nice to know’ stuff - it's not about how much I know, it's about what the student needs to be a better singer, speaker or performer.
* Voice lessons are either online or in person (Covid safe).
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/raisevoice/
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carnaticlessons · 2 months
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Best Carnatic Music for Beginners | Carnatic Lessons
As an article meant for beginners, Carnatic Music for Beginners: A Beginner's Guide to Learning Carnatic Music” is aimed at gatech pig introductions to the Carnatic music of South India. This book deals with the beginning-level items of the Carnatic music lessons like swaras, alankaras, varnams etc. In order to enable the learners to effectively participate in the performance, I will provide the detailed instructions and demonstration of the concepts of rhythm, melody, and improvisation. Even if you’re inexperienced in listening to music, or changing from another music type, this guide gives the basic skills and information you need to celebrate your new found interest in the captivating world of Carnatic music.
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doepaoros · 4 months
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Master Your Singing with Doe Paoro's Voice Training Course
Doe Paoro's Online Voice Coaching is your pathway to achieving vocal mastery. Our Vocal Online Course provides structured and effective Voice Training Courses that cater to your unique vocal needs. Learn to sing with confidence and precision under the expert guidance of Doe Paoro. Our comprehensive program is designed to enhance your vocal skills, making you a more versatile and confident singer. Enroll now and take the first step towards transforming your voice with Doe Paoro.
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Wellesley School of Music
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Website: https://www.wellesleyschoolofmusic.com
Address: 51 Grove St, Wellesley, Massachusetts 02482, United States
Wellesley School of Music offers a unique blend of music education and healing arts. Specializing in violin, piano, and voice lessons for ages 6-12, the school provides both in-person and online classes. Additionally, it offers eclectic services like ecstatic dance events, crystal reiki sound baths, and music composition guidance. The school's approach combines professional music training with creative expression and wellness, catering to a diverse community in Wellesley and beyond.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wellesleyschoolofmusic/
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@wellesleyschoolofmusic/
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verbalhub · 9 months
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Vocal Coaching Near Me and Vocal Training Online
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Are you ready to unlock the full potential of your voice? Whether you're an aspiring singer, public speaker, or just looking to improve your vocal skills, finding the right vocal coaching can make all the difference. In today's digital age, you have two fantastic options at your fingertips: Vocal Coaching Near Me and vocal training online. To achieve your dream of Vocal learning, you may think of Verbalhub Education.
Why Verbalhub Education for Voice and Accent
Certified Trainers.
MNCs exposure of Trainers.
The well-planned curriculum.
Step by Step learning
Engaging in discussion based on Vocal training
24*7 Service of Trainers
Placement Guidance
Vocal Coaching Near Me: A Personal Touch
If you prefer a hands-on approach and enjoy the benefits of face-to-face interaction, seeking vocal coaching near you might be the ideal choice. Here are some advantages to consider:
In-Person Connection: Working with a vocal coach in your local area allows for a personal connection. Your coach can observe your progress, and offer immediate guidance to fix errors.
Structured Learning Environment: In-person coaching often follows a structured curriculum, ensuring you build a strong foundation and progress steadily.
Local Networking: Vocal coaching centers or studios can introduce you to a local community of singers and artists, offering opportunities for collaboration and support.
To find vocal coaching near you, start by searching online, asking for recommendations from local musicians, or checking out community bulletin boards and music schools.
Vocal Training Online: The World as Your Classroom
Technology has created many possibilities for learning resources for those seeking vocal training. Online vocal coaching offers numerous benefits:
Flexibility: Online lessons allow you to schedule sessions at your convenience, making it easier to balance your training with a busy lifestyle.
Access to World-Class Coaches: You can connect with renowned vocal coaches from around the world, gaining access to diverse teaching styles and expertise.
Cost-Effective: Online coaching often comes with low fees. You may call it pocket-friendly.
Recorded Sessions: Online platforms often provide the option to record and revisit your lessons, helping you track your progress and practice effectively.
To get started with vocal training online, explore dedicated websites, and platforms, or even reach out to your favorite singers or vocal coaches to see if they offer online lessons.
Making the Choice: What's Right for You?
The decision between vocal coaching near you and vocal training online ultimately depends on your preferences, goals, and circumstances. Consider the following questions:
Do you thrive in a one-on-one, in-person setting, or are you comfortable with virtual interactions?
Is there a specific vocal coach you admire and want to work with, regardless of their location?
Are you looking for a more structured, curriculum-based approach, or do you prefer flexibility in your learning schedule?
Remember that regardless of your choice, vocal training is a journey. Consistency, practice, and dedication will be key to your success.
In conclusion, both vocal coaching near you and Vocal Training Online offer valuable opportunities for growth and development in your vocal journey. Whether you choose the personal touch of in-person coaching or the convenience and flexibility of online training, the most important thing is to take the first step toward honing your vocal skills. So, go ahead, find the option that resonates with you, and embark on a transformative journey to discover the full potential of your voice.
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mead-iocre · 7 months
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Call Me ‘Love’ | Leah Williamson x Reader
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There’s a new viral trend on TikTok. 
It’s pretty simple. Not a dance trend or a catchy song to lip-sync to.
All you have to do is film your partner’s reaction to you calling them by their real name. It often makes for some funny reactions from the partners who found themselves falling victim to this trend.
Perhaps for some couples, this wouldn’t elicit much of a reaction, but you knew your girlfriend well enough to anticipate that her reaction would likely make it worth trying the trend.
Outside of your families, friends and teammates, Leah was what most people would probably describe as…professional. She had captained her national team into winning the euros not too long ago, and as a result, the increase in media attention and scrutiny made her more conscious of the kind of person she portrayed herself to be in front of the media. 
On the pitch she was every bit a captain— a true leader. She’s has determination, grit, and a competitive drive that can pull the team together until the final whistle. Leah was very vocal on the pitch and unafraid to call out the referees for bad calls. She’ll get right up to their faces and stand her ground. Fans often joke online that they can hear her shouting from the stands. 
To add to that, she was a damn good player too. Leah is a crucial player to her team for both club and country. She’s fluid on the pitch, and her confidence in her skills is reflected in the way she plays. She’ll make risky but clean tackles, she can whip a wicked long ball, and she can score the odd goal when the opportunity lands on her head. Her confidence and skills can often leave people unnerved or in awe– depending on who you ask. 
It doesn’t help that while your girlfriend has a pretty face, she can also look quite intimidating at times. Furrowed eyebrows, lips pressed together in a tight line, and blue eyes darker than usual— all this combined is what you lovingly refer to as her classic “Captain Williamson face”.
The increased media attention has made the defender slightly more closed off during captain duties. Gone was the goofy, smart-mouth girl who was more than happy to yap at the cameras during media day. Nowadays, she may come across as slightly aloof and distant at times 
but that was only for the cameras. 
With you, Leah was still the same girl you fell in love with. The girl with a wicked sense of humour and a dirty mouth that went along with it. When she was around familiar company, the girl often made the most outrageous remarks— with jokes and quips that should not be repeated around those who can’t understand her sense of humour. 
Another surprising thing about the Arsenal defender and England captain— she can get pretty clingy. Physical affection is one of your girlfriend’s love languages and you are always more than happy to indulge her whenever. Your mornings together start with kisses, and your day ends with kisses. The blonde always needs to be touching you at all times whenever you are around— a hand on the hip, an arm over your shoulder, or a head on your lap. The intimidating captain they see on the pitch is definitely not the same girl that whines whenever you accidentally forget to give her a kiss before she leaves for training. 
Even though she might try and deny it, your girlfriend was a romantic. She loved planning dates, wearing matching clothes, and the cheesy nicknames.
And that’s why you were so excited to try out this new TikTok trend on her. 
——————————————
You situate your phone on the dinning table, fiddling around to make sure it is slightly hidden from view. You have it leaning against a vase which holds a charming bunch of tulips that the blonde had bought for you the other day. The back camera of your phone is pointed towards where your girlfriend usually sits during meals right across from you. The other decorative vase is what will hide your phone from the blonde, but is deliberately placed at an angle so your phone’s camera can still capture her reaction.
You glance at it one more time, making sure the record button is on. 
“Did you want extra parmesan on yours, baby?” You hear your girlfriend shout from the kitchen. 
“Yes, please!” 
You hear a “coming right up, madam!” before you hear the sound of a drawer being pulled open and then shut.
She’s probably grabbed the cheese grater. 
Soon the smell of savoury aromas reach you. You detect the earthy fragrance of garlic first. Then it’s the smell of onions sautéd in olive oil, mingling with the sweet aroma of ripe tomatoes. The scent of freshly chopped herbs— probably basil and oregano— adds a refreshing note in the air, while the unmistakable aroma of Parmesan cheese grating fills the air with a hint of nuttiness. It’s a familiar and comforting aroma simply because it’s the smell of the one and only dish that your girlfriend can successfully cook without setting the kitchen on fire. Not a moment later, Leah appears with a plate on each hand and a grin on her pretty face. 
And a smudge of red pasta sauce on her shirt. 
Mean, scary captain, my ass. 
Dressed in an oversized white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, grey Nike sweatpants, and her favourite fuzzy house slippers; your girlfriend is the least intimidating person in the world right now. 
She walks the short distance to your spot at the dinning table, placing a plate down in front of you. You eye the dish in front of you— the only recipe perfected by your girlfriend. The blonde can’t make scrambled eggs right— they will either be too soggy or practically burnt— but she can make the dish that has become a comfort food of sorts since you started dating her. 
You hear a throat clear from beside you.  Leah is still standing, her other hand still holding her own plate. “Doesn’t the chef get a kiss?” 
“Uhh— I don’t think my girlfriend would like that” You grin up at her. With her blonde hair tied in a loose low bun, she looks a lot more relaxed then when she first came home earlier after training.
“Baby, give me a kiss before I burn my fingers off from holding this hot plate” 
You roll your eyes playfully, before squealing at the ticklish poke given to your side. 
“Oi! Don’t act like it’s a chore to give your girlfriend a kiss when she rightfully deserves it”
You stand up from your seat slightly, reaching up to grab the side of the blonde’s neck to pull her closer and press a sweet kiss to her lips. “Thank you for dinner, chef” 
The smile that spreads across Leah’s face is one you would like to bottle up and keep close forever. 
“Pleasure is all mine, madam” And then her lips meet yours again, this time with a lingering bite on your lower lip just before she pulls back. 
You almost forget about the video.
Once the defender was seated in her own chair, you both dug into your dinner. 
“…how is it?” It’s sometimes still striking to you that England’s fierce defender is the same shy girl in front of you, just waiting for you to compliment her on her cooking. 
“That’s bloody delicious that!” You raise a hand up for a high-five and your girlfriend’s palm meets yours in a satisfying smack. Before she call pull her hand away, you grab hold of it, giving it a loud kiss. The bashful giggle that comes out from the blonde almost makes you regret the prank you were about to pull on her. 
Almost. 
You decided to let the blonde get a few bites of her dinner, not wanting to start too early otherwise she will figure out that something was up. But now it was time. 
You bring your napkin up to wipe at your mouth to disguise the grin that was already growing on your face, mentally prepping yourself one last time. You swallow your last forkful of pasta and clear your throat to get your girlfriend’s attention. Immediately, in the middle of scoping of bite of pasta into her mouth, the blonde looks up and all her attention is on you.
“Do we still have more parmesan, Leah?” 
The look she gave you was almost comical. Her mouth immediately drops into a small frown and her eyebrows furrow, a wrinkle appearing on her forehead. You itch to remind her not to frown but you cannot break character now. 
She swallows her mouthful, a frown still present on her face. “What?” 
“I said I want more parmesan—“ 
The arsenal defender picks up her napkin, wiping at her mouth, before balling it in her fist and dropping it by her plate. You nearly smile at the sight. Leah is the type to always neatly fold her napkin– an endearing habit you have grown to mirror over the past couple of months of dating her. She is clearly annoyed. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry— can I pleaseee have more Parmesan, Leah” 
She narrows her eyes at you from across the table. “Don’t do that” 
“Do what?“ 
“Don’t call me Leah. You never do that” 
“Yes I do” 
“Only when you’re mad at me” That was true. You only ever called Leah by her first name when you were mad or annoyed at her. It was usually the first telltale sign that you were about to start an argument. You loved that she knew you so well and mentally reminded yourself to reward her for that later. 
“You only call me “love” or “baby”. Don’t call me Leah” You nearly laugh at how she spits her own name out at the end, as if it was a cursed word. You couldn’t wait to watch the footage back. 
“But Leah is your name” 
“Not to you”
You compose yourself, wanting to drag this prank for as long as possible, and raise an eyebrow at her. “What if I want to?” 
“No you don’t.” You almost laugh at how genuinely frazzled she looks. Hair a mess, loose strands falling out from her bun and framing the sides of her face. The slight pout on her lips contrasts the stern tone she tries to take on. 
At your eyebrow raise and your lack of verbal response, her fork clatters onto her plate. She’s serious now. “Baby, what the fuck are you on about”
But you were having too much fun to stop now. “Nothing. Now will you please go grab the Parmesan, Leah” 
“No.” The defender crosses her arms across her chest, leans back and slouches in her chair. A familiar look of determination on her face, so similar to the face she makes whenever she’s marking a difficult opponent on the pitch; however this time her opponent is you. “Not until you call me what you really call me” 
“Dickhead?” 
“Oi! Don’t be crass at the table” 
You roll your eyes for extra flair. “You’re being ridiculous—“
“Me!? You’re the one addressing your own girlfriend by her government name, mate” 
You stand up from your chair, ready to walk to the kitchen and grab the damn parmesan yourself, but you are stopped by an arm around your waist pulling you into your girlfriend’s lap. You right yourself, sitting sideways with your arm over her shoulders. 
She wraps an arm around your waist with one hand gripping your thighs to steady you. You nearly break once you look up and catch sight of the pout on the defender’s face. 
“Are you mad at me?” Her tone softens. It’s the same tone she uses whenever she’s feeling particularly clingy, so different from the tone she uses when she adorns the captain’s armband on the pitch. 
“Babyyy” When you don’t reply Leah grabs your cheeks, gently squishing them together so your lips are forced into a pout. She leans up and places a smacking kiss on your pouting lips, frowning slightly when you don’t react at all. “Hey! Are you actually mad or something? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it” 
Determined as ever, the blonde grabs your cheeks again with a hand on your jaw and pecks your lips a few times, drawing back slightly to gauge your reaction after every peck. When you once again give her nothing, an eye roll is your only warning before you feel a sudden, but very sharp, bite to the side of your neck.
“Ouch, love!”
“Aha! I’ve got ya!” You bring a hand up to feel the stinging bite on your neck, and your fingers graze the teeth marks left by your very own girlfriend. 
“That bloody hurt!” You try to scowl at the blonde but it’s kind of hard to do when you see the big grin she’s currently sporting. You do nothing to stop your lips from curling upwards into a smile. 
“Can you please go back to calling me “love”– please” Leah pleaded, the ‘e’ whiny and prolonged. 
She’s so bloody cute. 
“Yeah. I think I’ve had my fun. Prank’s over!”
“Wha– prank?!”
You point at your phone that was still propped up against the vase, just slightly hidden from her view but now the sole focus of her attention. 
You squealed at the pinch to your waist. “Don’t ever call me Leah unless you’re mad at me. I only respond to ‘love’"
“Yeah? What about ‘Captain’?”
“Baby, you know exactly what happens when you call me ‘Captain’” You barely had time to react to her words because the next thing you know, your girlfriend has you in a fireman carry and was walking down the hallway towards your shared bedroom. You playfully attempt to wiggle out of her strong hold, and is awarded by a sharp slap to your ass to still you. 
“You know what, I think it’s time for dessert, baby”
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This was supposed to be up for Valentines Day yesterday lol but I forgot to schedule it.
Even if you don't choose to celebrate Valentine's Day, I hope you had a great day yesterday. Don't forget to take advantage of the heavily discounted Valentine's Day gift sets and chocolates.
Please accept this short fic as a token of my love and appreciation for you
-- kisses (and an extra kiss because it was Valentine's Day), butter.
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kittenintheden · 4 months
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I've had a fair few people ask me how I write dialogue, and other than touting the sort-of-dismissive-feeling "I've had a lot of practice and have been doing this a long time" comment I usually make, here are a few quick tips for improving dialogue writing.
1) Listen to people talk. Like. This sounds very "no fuckin duh." But I don't mean casually overhearing conversations. I mean if you have a character with a specific background, then get some headphones and find video/audio of someone you envision them speaking like, close your eyes, and simply listen. Full immersion. Let the cadence of their voice and the vocabulary they use wash over you. Absorb it.
2) Read some screenplays and start listening to dialogue like a writer. Screenplays are a good source because film/television often relies heavily on dialogue to communicate character. The lines are intentional, they're economic, they convey ideas in a way that most of us wouldn't be able to come up with off the cuff. Consider the different ways lines can be delivered and how that can change their entire meaning.
3) Everyone has vocal tics. We all have certain ways of speaking. It's where regional accents and slang come from and it's how we express a specific image of ourselves. People SPEAK differently. Uptalk, vocal fry, pauses for emphasis, laughing to lighten the heaviness of the words, certain turns of phrase, mumbling, showmanship, whatever. Train your ear to clock those things and figure out how to use them to bring out character personality.
4) Check out some improv. If you have an improv group in your area, check them out! There's also tons of improv content online. If you're ever like "how did someone come up with that absolute fucking BANGER of a line just off the top of their head???" The answer is 1) they probably didn't just think of it, and 2) they've practiced rapid-fire back and forth, often with a comedic bent.
5) Read out loud. If you're ever like "what would a real person sound like saying this," you have the answer. Say it yourself, in the way you envision them saying it, and see where it sounds clunky and can be smoothed out. Is there a way for you to convey emphasis where it's needed?
6) Dialogue tags do in fact matter. Every once in a while you'll see the advice that you should NEVER use dialogue tags besides "says/said" because "the dialogue should speak for itself." It's mostly bullshit. Don't use them for the sake of adding a different tag to every line of dialogue, but the WAY people say things can change the meaning of the words. So use them intentionally.
7) PRACTICE. Look. I fuckin know lol. But this advice always stands. Any creative expression requires practice to improve. It's incredibly rare to have a "natural" talent for anything. So just keep on keeping on. You're doing great. And you will continue to improve.
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It’s been twenty years since my Microsoft DRM talk
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On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.
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This week on my podcast,This week on my podcast, I read my June 17, 2004 Microsoft Research speech about DRM, a talk that went viral two decades ago, and reassess its legacy:
https://craphound.com/msftdrm.txt
It's been 20 years (and one day) since I gave that talk. It wasn't my first talk like that, but at the time, it was the most successful talk I'd ever given. I was still learning how to deliver a talk at the time, tinkering with different prose and delivery styles (to my eye, there's a lot of Bruce Sterling in that one, something that's still true today).
I learned to give talks by attending sf conventions and watching keynotes and panel presentations and taking mental notes. I was especially impressed with the oratory style of Harlan Ellison, whom I heard speak on numerous occasions, and by Judith Merril, who was a wonderful mentor to me and many other writers:
https://locusmag.com/2021/09/cory-doctorow-breaking-in/
I was also influenced by the speakers I'd heard at the many political rallies I'd attended and helped organize; from the speakers at the annual Labour Day parade to the anti-nuclear proliferation and pro-abortion rights marches I was very involved with. I also have vivid memories of the speeches that Helen Caldicott gave in Toronto when I was growing up, where I volunteered as an usher:
https://www.helencaldicott.com/
When I helped found a dotcom startup in the late 1990s, my partners and I decided that I'd do the onstage talking; we paid for a couple hours of speaker training from an expensive consultant in San Francisco. The only thing I remember from that session was the advice to look into the audience as much as possible, rather than reading from notes with my head down. Good advice, but kinda obvious.
The impetus for that training was my onstage presentation at the first O'Reilly P2P conference in 2001. I don't quite remember what I said there, but I remember that it made an impression on Tim O'Reilly, which meant a lot to me then (and now):
https://www.oreilly.com/pub/pr/844
I don't remember who invited me to give the talk at Microsoft Research that day, but I think it was probably Marc Smith, who was researching social media at the time by data-mining Usenet archives to understand social graphs. I think I timed the gig so that I could kill three birds with one stone: in addition to that talk, I attended (and maybe spoke at?) that year's Computers, Freedom and Privacy conference, and attended an early preview of the soon-to-launch Sci Fi Museum (now the Museum of Pop Culture). I got to meet Nichelle Nichols (and promptly embarrassed myself by getting tongue-tied and telling her how much I loved the vocals she did on her recording of the Star Wars theme, something I'm still hot around the ears over, though she was a pro and gently corrected me, "I think you mean Star *Trek"):
https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=4IiJUQSsxNw&list=OLAK5uy_lHUn58fbpceC3PrK2Xu9smBNBjR_-mAHQ
But the start of that trip was the talk at Microsoft Research; I'd been on the Microsoft campus before. That startup I did? Microsoft tried to buy us, which prompted our asshole VCs to cram the founders and steal our equity, which created so much acrimony that the Microsoft deal fell through. I was pretty bitter at the time, but in retrospect, I really dodged a bullet – for one thing, the deal involved my going to work for Microsoft as a DRM evangelist. I mean, talk about the road not taken!
This was my first time back at Microsoft as an EFF employee. There was some pre-show meet-and-greet-type stuff, and then I was shown into a packed conference room where I gave my talk and had a lively (and generally friendly) Q&A. MSR was – and is – the woolier side of Microsoft, where all kinds of interesting people did all kinds of great research.
Indeed, almost every Microsoft employee I've ever met was a good and talented person doing the best work they could. The fact that Microsoft produces such a consistent stream of garbage products and crooked business practices is an important testament to the way that a rotten organization can be so much less than the sum of its parts.
I'm a fully paid up subscriber to Ronald Coase's "Theory of the Firm" (not so much his other views):
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_the_firm
Coase says the reason institutions exist is to enable people to work together with lowered "coordination costs." In other words, if you and I are going to knit a sweater together, we're going to need to figure out how to make sure that we're not both making the left sleeve. Creating an institution – the Mafia, the Catholic Church, Microsoft, a company, a co-op, a committee that puts on a regional science fiction con – is all about minimizing those costs.
As Yochai Benkler pointed out in 2002, the coolest and most transformative thing about the internet is that it let us do more complex collective work with smaller and less structured institutions:
https://www.benkler.org/CoasesPenguin.PDF
That was the initial prompt for my novel Walkaway, which asked, "What if we could build luxury hotels and even space programs with the kind of (relatively) lightweight institutional overheads associated with Wikipedia and the Linux kernel?"
https://crookedtimber.org/2017/05/10/coases-spectre/
So the structure of institutions is really important. At the same time, I'm skeptical of the idea that there are "good companies" and "bad companies." Small businesses, family businesses, and other firms that aren't exposed to the finance sector can reflect their leaders' personalities, but it's a huge mistake to ascribe personalities to the companies themselves.
That's how you get foolish ideas like "Apple is a good company because they embrace paid service and Google is a bad company because they make money from surveillance." Apple will spy on you, too, if they can:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar
Disney and Fox weren't Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers making goo-goo eyes at each other across the table at MPA meetings. They were two giant public companies, and any differences between them were irrelevancies and marketing myths:
https://locusmag.com/2021/07/cory-doctorow-tech-monopolies-and-the-insufficient-necessity-of-interoperability/
I think senior management's personalities do matter (see, for example, the destruction of Boeing after it was colonized by sociopaths from McDonnell Douglas), but the influence of those personalities is much less important than the constraints that competition and regulation impose on companies. In other words, an asshole can run a company that delivers good products at fair prices under ethical conditions – provided that failing to do so will cost more in lost business and fines than they stand to make by cheating:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/24/record-scratch/#autoenshittification
Microsoft is a company founded and run by colossal assholes. Bill Gates is a monster and he surrounded himself with monsters, and they hired monsters to fill out the courts of their corporate palaces:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/14/patch-tuesday/#fool-me-twice-we-dont-get-fooled-again
To the extent that good things come out of Microsoft – some of its games products, the odd piece of hardware, important papers from MSR – it's in spite of the leadership; it's the result of constraints imposed by competition and regulation – and that's why Microsoft pursued such an aggressive program of extinguishing its competitors and capturing its regulators.
In retrospect, I think one of my goals in that talk was to convince those people doing good work for a rotten institution to go elsewhere and do other things. Certainly, that's one of the goals I pursue in the talks I give today. At the time, some of Microsoft's highest-profile technologists were publicly resigning over the company's war on free/open source software, so it wasn't an unrealistic goal:
https://web.archive.org/web/20030214215639/http://synthesist.net/writing/onleavingms.html
What I did not expect what that publishing the talk on my site and blogging it on Boing Boing would spark a wave of public interest that would get its message in front of several orders of magnitude more people than I spoke to at Microsoft that day. Partly, that was because I released the talk into the public domain, using the brand-new Creative Commons Public Domain Declaration (which was later replaced with the CC0 mark, due to legal issues withBu its drafting):
https://web.archive.org/web/20100223035835/http://creativecommons.org/licenses/publicdomain/
Some mix of the content of the speech, the spirit of the moment, and the novelty of that wide open license sparked a ton of interest. Jason Kottke recorded an audio version that Andy Baio hosted:
https://kottke.org/04/06/cory-drm-talk
My brutalist ASCII transcript was quickly converted to beautiful HTML by Matt Haughey and Anil Dash:
https://web.archive.org/web/20040622235333/http://www.dashes.com/anil/stuff/doctorow-drm-ms.html
For people who needed a hardcopy, there was Patrick Berry's printer-friendly stylesheet:
https://patandkat.com/pat/weblog/mirror/cory-drm/doctorow-drm-ms.html
Multiple people recorded (and sold!) audio versions, and then there were all the fan translations, into Danish, French, Finnish, German, Hebrew, Hungarian, Italian, Japanese, Norwegian, Polish, Portuguese (both EU and Brazilian), Spanish and Swedish. I stayed in touch with some of those translators, and they helped me translate the position papers I wrote for UN WIPO meetings. Those papers were so effective that ratfuckers from the copyright lobby started to steal them and hide them in the UN toilets (!):
https://web.archive.org/web/20041119132831/https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/archives/002117.php
Re-reading the speech for my podcast on Sunday, I expected to be struck by the anachronisms in it, and there were a few of those to be sure. But far more clear was the common thread running from this talk to other talks I gave that took on a significant life of their own, like my 2011 "War On General Purpose Computing" talk for CCC:
https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/
And my work on Adversarial Interoperability:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability
And my most recent work, on enshittification:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/27/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse/
In other words, I've been saying the same thing – in different ways – for more than 20 years. That could be depressing, but I actually found it uplifting. Two decades ago, I was radicalized by a fear that the internet would be seized by corporations and governments and transformed into a system of surveillance and control. I found my way into a job at EFF, where I worked with colleagues across multiple disciplines – coders, lawyers and activists – to fight this force.
At the time, this was a fringe cause. Most of the traditional activists I'd come up with in the feminist, antiwar, antiracist, environmental and labour movement viewed digital rights as a distraction and dismissed its partisans as sad, self-obsessed nerds who mistook fights over the management of Star Trek message boards for civil rights struggles:
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell
I thought I was right then, and I think history has borne me out. The point of waging these fights – both in the wide public sphere and within political movements – is to get people activated before it's too late. Every day that goes by is a day when the internet becomes more inhospitable to political organizing for a better world – more surveillant, more controlling. I believed then – and believe today – that the internet isn't more important that the other fights I waged as a young activist, but I think that the internet is fundamental to those fights.
Saving the planet, smashing patriarchy, overthrowing tyranny and freeing labor are all fights that will be coordinated – Coase style – on the internet. Without a free, fair and open internet, those fights are infinitely harder to win.
The project of getting people to understand, care about, and fight for digital rights is a marathon, not a sprint. When I joined EFF, it was already 12 years old. There were six people in the org then (I was the seventh). Today, there's more than a hundred of us, and we're stretched so thin! The 30+ year old idea that internet policy will intersect with every part of every fight has been utterly vindicated.
Back in 2004, I asked Microsoft why they were willing to fight the US government to the death over antitrust enforcement, but were such wimps when confronted with the entertainment industry's demands for DRM. 20 years later, I think I know the answer: Microsoft understood that DRM would let them usurp the relationship between creative workers, entertainment industry companies, and audiences. Their perfect instincts for seeking out and capitalizing on opportunities to seize monopoly power drove them to make deliberately defective products, in the belief that their market power would let them cram those products down our throats:
https://memex.craphound.com/2004/01/27/protect-your-investment-buy-open/
Here's a link to the podcast episode:
https://craphound.com/news/2024/06/16/my-2004-microsoft-drm-talk/
And here's direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free forever):
https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_470/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_470_-_My_2004_Microsoft_DRM_Talk.mp3
And here's the RSS feed for my podcast:
https://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/18/greetings-fellow-pirates/#arrrrrrrrrr
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supertrainstationh · 6 months
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CHARITY CASE CHAMPION
by A. Griffin / Super Train Station H ---------------------------------
I round up with pride at the checkout for Autism Speaks, but insult adults who like "Thomas the Tank Engine", and call them freaks.
I want to help the disabled, my bumper sticker proves it, truly, but when they get older, they better not enjoy "Bluey".
I support the autistic, and buy charity merch gladly, but I harass them online over things that make them happy.
There's no way those people could be autistic in any case, because I'm normal, so how could them, and me, be in a common space?
Leading brand charities told me what to look for: kids, often pitiable, easy to be adored, typically male - if they don't look like that, they're surely faking it, without fail!
I trust groups claiming to speak for disabled folks, without a doubt, but when they speak for themselves, it proves they're acting for web clout.
I "light it up blue," so those with hardships won't be silenced, but if I meet them online, I pelt them with written violence.
If they were really autistic they wouldn't and shouldn't have mentioned it! Speaking to me is for equals, I know I'm better than them!
How dare adults speak of benefiting from therapy courses? They should feel terrible for stealing disabled children's resources!
My heart goes out for those with sensory issues, in their younger days, but when they grow up, seeing them happy makes me outraged.
God forbid an adult enjoy things rated for all ages, or draw themselves as creatures from the comic strip pages.
I sympathize with web videos of disabled kid's meltdowns, but I see an adult happily flapping online, I'll run them out of town!
Why should it be on me to stow my righteous hostility?
Those phonies are mocking the plight of children with special needs!
"Autistic adult" is clearly an oxymoron. I browsed a charity website, so I know what's really going on!
Autistic people aren't legit unless they're kids that don't talk, that means adults that use vocal speech are committing fraud.
And as for those with different brains who happen to be silent, why consider their feelings, when they belong in asylum?
Stories put forth by autistic adults, are clearly embellishments, since for disabled people, they sure seem oddly intelligent.
I'm a well-balanced person, doing what little good I can manage, so I lurk online seeking targets to hate and disparage.
Exposing the lies of those that falsely claim to be special, makes me such a good person, that I deserve a gold medal!
So pitch in this April, every penny will be spent well - the cute kids on the posters, need every bit of help.
Their lives have been stolen, only your cash can restore their dreams!
But know, they shouldn't be cared about, after they hit eighteen!
---------------------------------
[Twitch] [VOD Channel] [Writing FA] [Ko-fi]
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xdinaryvamp · 12 days
Text
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 🩷 ` soul “video game lover”!!
where you meet shota on an online video game, falling in love with him even if you've never seen him. and now you're afraid that meeting the guy behind the avatar in real life might shatter your opinion of him.
genre : fluff, online love, gn reader.
pairings : gamer!soul × gamer!reader.
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since you were young, you've always been a big fan of video games, but you were never vocal about it. none of your friends shared that hobby, therefore feeling forced to live your passion alone.
so, when playing an online game you met shota, a video game fan like you, you were so happy that you almost started dancing in your room. yes, you never saw him in real life, but he quickly became the most present person in your life.
you texted him everyday, playing games together during video calls and sharing every bit of each other’s life, even the most useless things, like the yogurt you ate for breakfast or the new jeans he had bought.
soon enough, you realized you fell in love with him.
it wasn’t surprising, seeing how easy it was for you to be yourself around him. but still it seemed wrong to you, because starting a relationship with someone you had never actually seen seemed strange, dangerous even. so you kept your feelings a secret for months, keeping the relationship you had with him still.
that’s, until you got a text from him.
shota: you live in xx city, right? (・・;)ゞ
y/n: yeah, why??
shota: ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ
shota: i’m on the train
shota: almost there!
y/n: WHAT
shota: ദ്ദി๑>؂•̀๑)
no need to say that you got no additional answer.
an hour later he called you to get the address of your house, and after about twenty minutes he was already outside your door, ringing the doorbell continuously.
you rushed at the front door, after spending the last hour and a half tidying up your house and yourself.
before you open the door you realize how stupid it might be to let someone into your home who could very well be a different person than what they appear to be online. but then you think back to the months - almost a year - spent together between games and calls, and you reassure yourself. and you're also reassured by the fact that he's probably the dumbest of the two, since he's the one who went all this way for an online friend.
“shota.” you say, when his figure finally appears in your field of vision.
he just smiles. then he leaves his suitcase to hug you. and it's the best hug you've ever received in your life.
“i should scold you for showing up here without warning.” you murmur with your face buried in his shoulder, hoping he can't sense your heart beating faster and faster.
you hear him laughing next to your ear: “i warned you an hour before.”
you huff, knowing that in that moment you're anything but angry at him.
he detaches himself from your body, taking his suitcase and then finally entering your house. “shall we play together?”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
you're both sitting on your bed, a half empty bag of chips in the middle, two joysticks and an action game on the screen.
you've been like this for a while now, elbows touching and the comfortable silence of those who have known each other well for a while.
you're doing your best to stay focused on the game, ignoring as much as possible the closeness you currently have with the boy.
the crush hadn't passed, and the excuses about it being nothing more than a virtual relationship were now no longer valid.
he was there. on your bed. eating your chips.
you could hear live all the strange noises he usually made when playing, sounding like a character himself. you could feel the bed move when he moved. and now, damn, now you could feel his head resting on your shoulder, his hair brushing your cheek, his arm completely attached to yours.
you were dying internally. and you were very close to doing it externally too, as it seemed like you were about to have a heart attack.
“sorry for rushing in here without saying a word." he said, as he blew the head off a zombie with a gunshot.
“no problem. i'm happy to have you here.” you answer. and it was true, by now you had even forgotten about the fact that until that morning you hadn't even suspected his visit.
“it's that... there's something i wanted to tell you, and i don't like communicating important things by text.”
“something happened?” you ask. you hands trembling as you pretended to still look at the screen.
“i think i'm in love with you.” he says in one breath, without removing his head from your shoulder, and without daring to remove his eyes from the game.
you are speechless. your cheeks become red as you watch the words "game over" appear in front of you.
“i know it's weird, and i don't expect you to reciprocate,” he adds, seeing that you hesitate to answer, "but i felt i had to tell you. if you don't feel the same we can always pretend that nothing happened. i'll go home and…” he was nervous and you knew it. he always talked a lot more than usual when he was.
“shota” you swallow the lump of saliva that had formed in your throat, forcing yourself to speak. occasions like that don't come around twice. “i like you too.”
for a minute there is only silence. then he suddenly shifts to look you in the eyes.
“really y/n? really?” he seems happy, and you breathe again.
“i've been for a long time, to be honest.” you confess, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment.
“me too.” he takes your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “i could no longer pretend to see you only as a friend.”
“i so want to kiss you right now.” and you also want to beat yourself up for waiting so long and being a coward. yes, you would like to do both at the same time.
he smiles at you. with his free hand he caresses your cheek, before closing the distance from you and leaving a sweet and slow kiss on your lips.
your heart melts. and in silence you pray that this is just the first of thousands of other kisses, without knowing that he is doing the same.
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vscabarca · 6 months
Note
Heyyy! Could you write an imagine with Gavi where Y/N is a professional ice skater? And she's like super competitive and when she makes all those tricks Gavi fears that she will fall but she doesn't. Something fluff idk 🥺😭<3
his figure skater - pablo gavi
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summary: gavi loves the sport you do, but worries you‘ll hurt yourself
genre: fluff
a/n: what a cute request:3 i don‘t know much about figure skating, but tried my best:p
———
„You look like you’re about to freeze to death.“ You laughed when you saw Gavi sit there with his puffer jacket, the hood pulled up and the zipper up to his chin.
„Yeah that’s because I am soon. How are you not freezing?“ He grinned, placing his hands into the pockets, shifting around to keep himself warm.
„I‘m used to it, besides if I would just sit there like you do, I‘d be freezing too.“ You countered with a smirk and kissed his cheek before going back onto the ice rink.
„I would‘ve broken my leg the second I stepped a foot on the ice! Also, I‘m not allowed to do dangerous sports says my contract.“ He shouted after you, but you just waved him off with a grin, continuing with your practice.
An important competition was approaching and you did everything you could to be in top form and win.
You were on the ice training everyday, sometimes going to the gym afterwards, practicing you routine over and over again until you hit perfection. Gavi admired your determination, happy that his girlfriend is also a professional athlete.
Ever since you’ve met him, he was proud of how good you were but also just so worried. You worked hard to be a professional athlete in the competitive sport, but he was just so scared you would once fall and hurt yourself badly.
Like today, Gavi stopped by after his own practice, waiting for you to finish. He could barely watch. These flips and tricks made him feel dizzy only from looking. Seeing you fall from time to time bruising your knees made him wide his eyes in worry.
Still, he supported you and was coming to your competitions if he had the time.
———
„Gavi it’s just a bruise, it only hurts if you keep pressing your finger on it.“ You chuckled, slapping his hand away from the purple splotch.
Your boyfriend saw the rather large bruise on your hip after you emerged from a shower, immediately stumbling over to you, asking where it was from.
„I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself. I feel nauseous when I see you lay there on the ice after a fall.“ Gavi spoke, tracing your bruise with his fingers subconsciously. „Also, I‘ve heard if you get bruise after bruise on the same spot, it can lead to inflammations.” He lectured and pulled you closer.
„Baby this is my job. Falling is a part of the process, like fouling in football. And who told you about that bruise thing?” You asked with a chuckle, scooting closer to him in bed.
„I‘ve read it online…” Gavi mumbled, arranging the duvet for you two.
You‘ve told him countless times it didn’t hurt and that you were used to it, but he just wouldn’t listen.
„Imagine how I feel when you put your head where others put their feet.“ You continued, which got him thinking. Gavi understood what you were on about and acknowledged the fact that his sport could be dangerous too.
Since that night, Gavi didn’t express his worries vocally anymore, not wanting to stress you out too much. Still, he bit his nails while you were competing, just like you were doing during his games.
———
„Be careful ok?“ Gavi had asked you just before it was time for you to compete. You nodded and kissed him quickly. The music blasted through the speakers, making you fade out everything around you. Gavi bounced his leg nervously watching you twirl and jump around the ice rink. You executed your routine perfectly, not one ounce of nervousness showing.
Gavi was the first one who started cheering as the song was over, whistling while you smiled proudly towards the judges.
Your boyfriend was already waiting for you, embracing you in his arms. Your face was mushed against his chest, giggling at how Gavi swayed you from side to side.
„You were amazing.“ He spoke, finally letting go to place a sweet kiss on your lips.
„Thank you. You weren’t worried?“ You asked, already knowing his answer but asking anyway.
„Of course I was. I was shitting my pants the whole time.“
People turned their heads as you two erupted in laughter at Gavi‘s comment, but walked hand in hand outside, not feeling bothered by their looks.
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makuta-tobi · 1 year
Text
Nat stared at her computer screen, cursor blinking in tandem with her heartbeat, so loud in her ears she may as well have been at a metal concert. Months she had worked on her project, skipping meals, staying awake until sunrise, and then a few hours more after that. Now she was a few keystrokes away from finally testing it. Cables ran from her ramshackle computer, meeting and mingling with others attached to a bank of hard drives, all spinning with uploads and downloads. On the inflatable mattress behind her, the fruits of her labour lay eerily still. With a deep, shaky exhale, she typed in the last few lines of code into her launcher, and pressed the enter key.
The whirring of the fans pointed towards the makeshift server seemed to drown out all other noise as the program executed. Then a series of smaller fans, a sharper sound than the box fan nearby, as they all sprang to life at once. Nat pressed her palms together as her creation came online. As servos activated and limbs went from rigid to an almost relaxed state, she couldn't help but whisper “it lives” to herself. The machine in front of her made a sudden jolt, and a light on the side of its head illuminated a pale white. Online and active. She twisted from her position on the floor to check her monitors and saw that all systems were operating nominally. Neural pathways were registering stimuli, artificial synapses were firing as thoughts began to form. It worked!
Nat placed her hand on the machine's upper back and guided it to a sitting position. She had been sure to feed the computer a good handful of data about herself, and the basics of knowledge in order to train the AI and make sure it didn't immediately shut down from overstimulation.
God knows I certainly would have, she thought to herself with an eyeroll.
“Are you awake?” her first question was more of a way to test the robot's speech recognition, its self evaluation, word association, and also to ensure that the vocal modulation was up to satisfactory conditions.
“I am awake,” it responded. The robot drew its arms closer to its torso and seemed to look around the room briefly, before turning its head to face Nat.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, once again checking its recognition and perception.
“Natalie, you created and programmed me, I believe,” it tilted its head almost as though trying to determine if this was the correct answer. The data she had fed it before it woke up had included details about herself, photos and videos of her, vocal samples, and the AI was interpreting this information and comparing it to the details in front of it. The face, the voice, it all matched. But the robot seemed almost unsure, as if contemplating whether the information it had was incomplete. Perhaps it had been told that this person, whose face and voice it knew, was the one who built it, but that did not necessarily mean the information it had was true. Nonetheless, Nat smiled and nodded, and the robot's shoulders almost imperceptibly relaxed.
“That's right. I did create you, and I programmed you to be something new, but familiar. You have a lot of potential, and I'm glad to meet you.” The robot tilted its head at the framing of the statement.
“What potential do I have?” it asked. A curious mind, or simply a rudimentary AI probing for information to expand its knowledge set?
“You have multiple functions as yet unseen. All of you, from the smallest details of your body, to your quizzical mind, all are new ways to expand the experience of everyone.” When the robot did not respond right away, and simply looked down at its form, still sitting upright on the air mattress, she continued her explanation. “Your frame is designed with limb augments and prosthesis in mind,” she gestured to the carbon fiber metal that made up its hands and arms. “Your sensor suite is expected to replace the damaged vision or hearing of someone who has lost theirs. Your AI can expand and contain the breadth of knowledge and actually learn, instead of just regurgitate answers it had received beforehand.”
“What of this?” the robot touched the gray fleshy material covering its lower abdomen, stretching down to its thighs.
“That is actually two things. The first is a synthetic skin that can be created to replace basic skin grafts and other replacement techniques we currently have. The second is that the skin is used as a mount for artificial nerves that can replace damaged ones.”
The robot ran its hands over its body as she explained it. Fine black digits ran over smooth arms and shoulders, stroking across the lighter fake flesh that extended over parts of itself. It then raised its head and looked at her again, cocking its head to the side. In the black glass dome of its face, Nat could only see her own reflection, distorted like staring into dark water. She had always taken issue with the way her nose sat, or criticized that one eyebrow was higher than the other. The self deprecation had always come easy, but looking back at herself from this angle, it was like seeing herself anew, as she really was. When she had begun construction on the robot's exoskeleton so long ago, she had wondered if this would feel like interacting with her child for the first time, but now, she realized, it was more like talking to herself. She felt love for the machine in a way that was hard to quantify, and thus, she knew, she loved herself, in some weird, roundabout way.
“My design, my purpose, is for medical research, is that correct?” the robot asked. She saw, in her reflection, the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile that she liked seeing.
“Your design, yes. You were made with the intention of looking into a variety of medical advancements all at once, to see how they might interact with each other, as well as individually. But your purpose is for you to decide, once you find it. That might take some time, but I think all living things will eventually find it.”
“Am I alive?” the robot's question wasn't exactly unexpected, but it was quick to ask so bluntly.
“Scientifically, maybe not. Ethically, I'm sure some people would take issue with me trying to say otherwise, but realistically? In my mind? You move, you think, you have the potential to imagine, and dream, and exist here. I don't see why you couldn't consider that being alive.”
The robot nodded, its hidden visual sensors scanning Nat up and down, taking in the sight of what it could consider life, based solely on firsthand experience and not a dataset provided before it had even been conscious. Her dyed blonde hair had faded quite a bit since its last treatment, with longer dark roots peaking out. Her eye mascara was smudged, but the dark rings around her eyes framed her gray-blue irises almost ethereally. Her loose tank top draped across her body and hid her shape, and her shorts were stained with pen ink. In spite of her unkempt appearance, or perhaps because of it, the robot perceived, that this was life.
They both shook off the initial studiousness of their first interaction, and Nat turned to her computer, minimizing the command prompt window and revealing a program with a split screen. On one side, an image that appeared to resemble an approximation of a human brain structure. On the other, lines of data were being written and recorded, a text log of the robots experiences made legible.
“Before we get too existential,” Nat said almost wistfully, “we need to make sure your various systems are functioning the way they are intended to.” She turned back to the robot and handed it a ball. It appeared like a gel filled stress ball, and the robot took it, turning it over in its hand. “I just need you to give that a squeeze. Use your instincts and apply enough pressure to squish it, but not break it.”
The robot looked at the ball for a moment and squished it twice in its hand. The portions of the ball not covered by the robot's palm and fingers would expand briefly with the pressure, but would relax as soon as the pressure was let off. The robot then closed its fist around the ball, with the gel-filled portions blowing up to larger size, and it held that position. Nat jotted a note down on a piece of paper with her pencil and then nodded.
“Okay, you can go ahead and release it.” The robot relaxed its fingers and the ball returned to its normal shape. Nat took it and then turned to fully face the robot again. “Now I'm going to test the artificial nerves in the skin.” She pressed the eraser of her pencil against the gray flesh on the robot's hip and turned to look at her monitor. A portion of the brain image lit up. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” the robot answered curtly. Nat scribbled something else down on her note paper.
“Okay, now look over there,” she gestured with her pencil. She had to be sure that the sensation registration was due to the actual physical stimuli, and not the recognition that touching the spot should produce a registration. The robot turned its head to look in the direction she had indicated, and then she pushed down on the middle of its thigh. Again, she turned her head to look at the screen, and saw the same area of the brain image glowing. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” the robot answered again.
“Don't look, but show me where,” she said. Making sure that it could identify the location of the sensation was also important, so its spatial awareness was also under observation. The robot slid its hand over the skin and touched a single finger directly next to her pencil. A simple example of manual dexterity, which would certainly be tested later, but good to know. “Okay, now one more,” she said. Flipping her pencil around, she pressed the sharpened graphite into a spot near its groin, where the thigh and hip met. Even without seeing the pencil, the robot reacted stronger than she had anticipated. It jolted at the sudden sharp stimuli, and the hand that was still resting on its thigh clenched into a fist. She quickly withdrew the pencil from the skin.
“I'm so sorry!” her voice seemed almost panicked as she checked the monitor. Not only had it registered the sensation, but the synaptic response on the monitor showed a lingering feeling as it slowly dissipated. “How do you feel?” she turned her head back to look at the robot, which had returned its gaze to her.
“Warm,” it answered. She looked down to see that her hand was placed over the spot her pencil had poked, stabbed really, and that feeling was helping to calm the feeling in the robot. She exhaled, and pushed her bangs back. At least that much worked.
“I'm going to log your reactions so far, just a second.” Nat spun around on the floor, selecting a portion of the text that still scrolled across her screen and saving it in a separate folder. The robot tilted its head and examined the tattoo on her shoulder while she worked. A diamond butterfly unfurling its wings and escaping a cocoon made of coal on the back of her right arm. A little on the nose, to be sure, but her friends had assured her the imagery was lovely. Something beautiful and real coming out of a period of harsh change under tremendous pressure. It defined Nat's life, growing up in a family that was always standoffish, not fitting in for so long and not knowing why. Diagnosis after diagnosis making matters worse, while she struggled to find herself, becoming sloth, and finally discovering her own truth and breaking free of the old things. She still carried parts of her from before, but she was unrecognizable and planned to live her life the way that was best for her. None of this was necessarily spoken by the art itself, but the idea was still conveyed well enough.
“What is all this,” the robot said in a softer tone than it had been using, running its hand over the inked skin. None of the photos she had trained its recognition algorithm on had included the tattoo, apparently, and the robot only had a vague grasp of what it was. Instinctively, Nat's hand went up and she placed it over the robot's.
“It's a story, etched into my skin forever. It's art, something that makes me happy.”
“Can you do that? Make changes to yourself?” Nat laughed at the sudden question. The ink was the least of the changes she had ever made to herself.
“Yes, we all have these bodies, but the beautiful thing is that they're ours. We can generally do whatever we want with them.”
“Would I be able to do that?” the robot asked. It was a valid question, and had she been talking to a person, the answer would have been obvious. But the robot had been designed in a way that was different than a human. It had a similar shape, similar features, but it was made to do something entirely different, and because of that, the question was a bit more complex.
“Would that make you happy?” she decided to answer. The robot traced the wings of the butterfly gently with one finger.
“I don't know. Maybe,” it replied. Nat nodded.
“That's part of what I meant earlier, when I said you can find your purpose. If you want to make modifications, when you are ready, then perhaps you can.” There was a longer pause between the two as Nat saved the final file. She sat facing the screen for a moment, chewing the end of her pencil in thought. Once she had made up her mind, Nat pulled her mouse cursor up to a toggle that showed OFF and clicked it.
Honestly, fuck it, she thought, once again hearings her heart race in her ears, louder than before. If every other test is going off without a hitch, might as well try the last bit. Turning around again, she faced the robot once more. The two of them sat with their legs crossed in front of them, the robot obviously at some point copying Nat's posture, though whether the choice was subconscious or not wasn't immediately clear.
“There's one more feature you were designed with that I want to check out,” she said. The robot tilted its head, studying her slightly flushed face. “For a variety of reasons, sometimes specific body parts are needed to be replaced, or built from scratch, and our current technological advancement is not where it could be. So you were also designed with this feature in mind, to see if it was possible to make one that accurately mimics the natural human body response.” Nat swore she heard a drum solo as she placed her hands on the robot's knees. From its position on the air mattress, it had a slightly higher position than her, which was more than reasonable.
“What do you need to do to test this response?” the robot asked innocently. Nat kind of wished there was a little bit more deviousness to the inquiry, but that was fine. Maybe it would learn that behaviour later.
“Just relax,” she said, pressing one hand on its lower abdomen and pushing it back slightly, which it obliged and propped itself back on its hands. “I need to see how it all works.”
Nat ran her hands from the robot's knees down its inner thighs, which seemed to tense and then relax with her touch. Though it hadn't questioned it before, the robot was suddenly aware of an extra appendage on its body, smaller and slender. But as her fingertips traced small circles across its inner thighs, the additional part began, quickly, to swell. The robot initially believed it to be some sort of error, but the slight twinkle in Nat's eyes belayed this concern, and it watched as she began to press her lips to the inner, upper thigh portions of its skin. Each kiss sent a shock of reaction up the leg, to the groin where the part had become nearly fully erect, and then up to the robot's brain. Without knowing why, the robot clenched one of its hands against the mattress.
“It does react realistically,” Nat said. The robot seemed to shiver as she stopped. “That's good news, but there's a few other things I want to make sure work.”
“Like wh-!” the robot was cut off as Nat smirked and engulfed its cock in her mouth. The skin had the same feeling as human, and the heat it produced was comparable to any person, but the rush to Nat's head was far more exhilarating than any other time in her life. Her tongue ran over the tip and the robot's leg shook. She sucked it further into her mouth and she swore she heard the robot's internal fans kick up to compensate for the increased heat. She tried to steady herself, breathing through her nose as she bobbed her head up and down slowly on the robot's cock, feeling like it was melting on her tongue. She chanced a glance up at its black domed face, which was tilting from side to side, thrashing around in ecstasy. Certainly the plan was working well. But she needed to check how well.
Grabbing the robot's hips, scooting closer, she began moving her head faster, running her tongue across the tip of its cock every time she got near the top. The robot's legs were now quaking quite a bit, and it suddenly leaned forward, placing its hands on the back of her head and bucking its hips, the loud whirring of its fans matching her heartbeat. It held her in that position for just a moment before releasing her. Nat pulled her head up off its member, relieved to be able to take a few full gulps of air.
“What was that?” the robot asked, its voice peaking.
“That was a test to see if you can orgasm,” Nat panted, “and while normally you might produce a sort of liquid material, I wasn't really able to... get anything like that for you.” Nat's face was bright red as she said the last few words. “There's a small reservoir system in your lower abdomen and a pump that would probably recreate it, but I didn't have anything to use this time around so it's empty. That said, it's good to know everything is working as planned."
The robot was still shaking minutely, and Nat watched it, pushing her bangs back and rubbing her thighs together. She had a desperate need of release, herself. It wasn't exactly part of the plan, but she felt needy, and even though she had never quite gone that far with any person before... The thought crept back into her mind, seeing her own reflection in its faceplate, loving herself. And she wanted to feel loved. Glancing down, she noticed that the robot's cock was, in fact, still fully erect. She had felt it unnecessary to reproduce a refractory period, and thus the robot simply could wait it out or, had it been aware, simply shut off the system. But she didn't want it to be aware. Not yet.
“Hey, come here,” she said, getting up and holding the robot close. Even the carbon fiber felt warm and lifelike to the touch. Not as soft as skin, but comforting. The robot reciprocated, wrapping its arms around her waist and pulled her close. She held that position for a second, then pulled back from it. “Now to check endurance, is that okay?” Nat almost feared a response that was unsure she would even get.
“Of course, if that's what's needed.” The robot's blunt answer betrayed its appearance as it looked her up and down. She stripped off her shirt, and touched the robot's stomach. It mirrored her behaviour, splaying its fingers over her skin and dragging them across her body. As it felt her, she knew it wasn't able to truly experience the sensation, but hoped that perhaps it was perceiving it. She undid her shorts and dropped them as it explored her chest, her head tilting back. She slid her underwear down as well, and knelt in front of the robot completely naked. She couldn't hide her face, she knew it, and the robot would likely not understand the concept of shame, but she still felt compelled.
Its hands trailed down her hips and thighs, and one cupped her own cock. Nat felt like dying as it ran the soft fingertips over her, but she couldn't ask it to stop. She wanted more, her body felt like an inferno. It stroked her cock, and ran its thumb over the tip, mimicking the way she had licked it, and she let out a squeak. It pumped her a bit more, before she felt like collapsing backwards.
“Wait, wait, hold on,” she panted. The robot immediately released her, and she slid up onto the air mattress. Laying on her side, she brushed away a few cans and bottles strewn on the floor, and tossed a pair of older underwear to the side, finding a small bottle. The contents were crystal clear, and glinted under the light of the nearby lamp. She popped the bottle open and poured some of it on her fingers. Leaning forward and pressing her head against the robot's chest, she let the slick digits coat her ass in the liquid, probing her own hole, which gave way easily to one of her fingers. She then poured some more of the lube onto the robot's cock, and it shook slightly as she stroked it up and down, coating it in the shimmering liquid. Nat then laid herself on her back, legs spread, and gestured vaguely from its member to her ass.
“Use your instincts and apply pressure,” she said, trying to go off her own script, “and be careful.”
The robot slid up between her legs, pressing down on her ass. Nat bit her lip as it pressed against her, but when it placed its hand on her cheek, Nat suddenly felt completely at ease. Almost effortlessly, the robot slid into her asshole. Nat arched her back up, suddenly feeling very full. The robot hadn't been designed to be abnormally large in any aspect of its anatomy, but right now, it felt like she was stuffed to the brim. Her legs settled on either side of the robot's hips, and it took over. Slowly it moved back and forth into her, small unintended gasps escaping her mouth every time it did. Her body was melting, and the robot seemed to sense it. As she loosened, it took some bolder moves, increasing its speed ever so slightly, or giving a few stronger thrusts, which caused Nat to toss her head back. The robot pulled her up, one hand on her lower back, the other behind her head, and it began to move harder and faster. Nat's mouth fell open, a string of expletives tumbling out in high pitched squeals and moans.
Any time she had ever played with herself like this, Nat had only gotten a little bit of pleasure. Enough to enjoy, surely, but she could never reach higher levels of ecstasy without touching her cock. Now, it felt unneeded. Her whole body was hot and tense, her brain felt on fire. It stroked against her prostate with every thrust now, sending fireworks blooming behind her eyes. Her moans drowned out the sounds of the box fan, and the hard drives, and the robot's internal fans, racing to keep up with the increased activity.
“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” Nat could barely squeeze out, “oh fuck I'm almost there, please don't stop,” the robot's legs were trembling as well, the same as before, but it obliged, going from a slow to a faster pump, moving its hips in tandem with her own partially involuntary movements as she tried to fill herself up with the robot's cock more and more. “Oh, ffffuck-!” Nat's legs pulled up as the buildup intensified, like a coiled spring pressed down to its limit, before finally releasing. The sound from her mouth was less like a moan, or a cry, and more like an old computer screeching as it processed its next action. Her hips thrust up and down as she came, only pressing her down further on the robot's cock, filling her stomach while she rode the wave of her ecstasy. As she finally came down, legs trembling, the robot placed her back down fully on the mattress, and she pushed softly on its abdomen, indicating for it to pull back and out.
Nat laid on the mattress, stomach splattered with cum, legs too weak to even stay with knees bent up. She panted, trying to catch her breath that had escaped her long ago. The robot sat at her feet, head tilted, hand raised towards her as if contemplating how to help her, if she was in need, did she need medical assistance or anything? But Nat just laughed, and pushed herself up.
“That... I needed that more than you know. I think more than I knew, thank you.”
“Was the testing successful?” the robot asked.
“It was, you should be able to access a um...” she wondered exactly what she wanted to say, “a flaccid function, if you can find it. To keep it down,” Nat glanced down at the gray cock, still slick with lube. The robot nodded and sat back, accessing its own functions, and she watched as the member began to shrink down to a standard size.
“I'm glad you were able to find what you needed,” the robot said.
Nat shook her head, “I knew you had it all. I'm just happy you could experience everything the way I can.” Forcing herself up, Nat sat upright and pulled the robot closer, kissing the faceplate.
“I do have one more question, if that's okay,” the robot said.
“Of course,” Nat pushed her disheveled bangs up, “anything.”
“Earlier, when you first woke me up, you asked me if I knew you, and I identified you as Natalie. But you failed to identify me in the same instance.”
“That's because you never had a name,” Nat smiled, “not everyone has one they like right away. Is there something you would like to be called?”
“I think... I would like to find that out,” the robot said, placing its hand over hers.
“Well,” she turned her palm up and held its hand in her grip, “you have time to find that, too.”
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