so very streaky

Oct. 18th, 2017 02:40 pm
solarbird: (widow)
[personal profile] solarbird
I've still got this damned head cold or whatever it is and it's awful and won't go away. I was feeling better yesterday but that didn't last.

I was fuckin' terrible today in lunchtime Overwatch. Well, as Widow, anyway. I was good as Tracer as always, and the weird thing is, the one time I wasn't terrible as Widow, it was in deathmatch, where I was surprisingly competitive against a pretty heavy set of enemies including three Pharahs and a D.va, which is not normally a recipe for competitiveness but I was.

So I was feeling pretty okay in warmup. But christ, go into quickplay and suddenly it's WHAT IS SNIPERS? and I can't hit a shot to save my life. (And that included while winning. So.)

This is in huge contrast to yesterday where I was not just playing well, but had another entire game of being the Widowmaker I want to be. Defence in Hollywood, 70% scope accuracy, eight criticals, golds in objective kills and objective time and silver in total kills, enemy Bastion got so sick of me that he tried being enemy Widow and yeah that did not help, enemy Pharah kept trying to go over the gate wall and I just kept one-shotting her out of the air until she got so mad that on their last serious push she apparently decided "y'know what, fuck the objective, fuck the game, I'm killing that fucking Widowmaker at least once" and went through the security office while I was busy with other people, jumped me from behind and let loose her one and only ult at point-blank range just for me.

Honestly, I felt quite flattered.

I guess the short form is I am still a work in progress, and it shows.

(no subject)

Oct. 18th, 2017 09:10 am
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
Shit! It was cold this morning! We don't have any kind of centralized heat and we weren't ready, haha. The space heaters are now humming away in the living room and kitchen and I'll be breaking out the heated blanket. And I'm going to get up on the roof and clean out the chimney before we can use the wood burning stove. Aaahh, I love cold weather but I'm very unprepared for it. ;3;

Nintendo shared a picture of their Switch and 3DS 2017/early 2018 releases!



Aaaahhh. ;3; Fire Emblem Warriors, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (I never played the first one because I've never owned a WiiU but I've heard it was great), Octopath Traveler, Strange Journey Redux (I've never played Strange Journey so it's a new game to me!).

It's really awesome that although the Switch is now a thing, Nintendo is still releasing games for the 3DS. That's pretty great, good for you Nintendo. :3

Mental health stuff )

Holly Poly Letter

Oct. 17th, 2017 04:28 pm
shamanicshaymin: Quote from Napstablook from Undertale (Default)
[personal profile] shamanicshaymin
This is a placeholder for my letter for Holly Poly. This space won't be neglected forever! :o
solarbird: (widow)
[personal profile] solarbird

Widowmaker brought herself in from the cold, one day, exchanging a list of Talon agents for sanctuary, and at first couldn't or wouldn't say why. Her first breakthrough in explaining herself came in a talk with Lena Oxton, who then helped her break through Angela Ziegler's insistence that Widowmaker was not really a person, and that Amélie Lacroix could yet be recovered. But despite that truth, sometimes, some of Amélie's last memories - mostly but not always tightly compartmentalised away - trouble the spider, and this is one of those times.

This is the sixth in a series of stories set in the It is Not Easy to Explain, She Said continuity, a timeline largely compliant with known canon as of July 2017 (pre-Doomfist/Masquerade), which is when I wrote and posted the first story. It is not part of the on overcoming the fear of spiders AU.

This story follows "It's not easy to explain, said Lena Oxton" in chronological sequence. [AO3 link]


"Do you remember what it was like?"

Lena held Widowmaker's hand, gently, as they sat together, otherwise alone, mid-afternoon, in the smaller canteen at Gibraltar. She drank tea, cream, two sugars. Her counterpart drank obscenely hot coffee, unsweetened, strong, and dark.

For the most part, Amélie's memories stayed safely in their place, out of Widowmaker's way, but there were a few, occasionally, at the border between her birth and the previous woman's death, that picked at her, at times. Dr. Ziegler suggested that was because of the emotions around them - emotions could, perhaps, last long enough, even if the thoughts themselves didn't, to become Widowmaker's emotions as well.

"A little," said the former Talon assassin, after some delay. "Not very much, thankfully. I do not think she was making new memories very well, by then. But there are some."

Lena shuddered a little. "I can't even imagine it."

Widowmaker shook her head. "For her, it was not even the fear of it happening. It was..." She pondered a moment. "It is not easy to explain."

"I can't imagine it would be."

"She would feel, and think, one way, one thing, and then, she would find herself thinking another way, a different thing, a thing like I would think, sometimes, but she would be thinking it, and not me. And sometimes it would be something neither of us would think, but something they very much wanted her to think. And she would believe what she thought, and what she felt, but she would know, she would remember, moments before, thinking very differently about the same thing."

"And she'd fight it," assumed Tracer, "and that would hurt."

"No - but yes? Both would feel like it was her. There was nothing for her to fight. But the difference in the two... that, she found horrifying."

Lena let out a long breathy hoo sound, and took another sip of her tea, before continuing. "So they were making her think... their thoughts, then."

"My thoughts, at least, at times." She leaned her elbows against the table. "Or, to be more correct, the kind of thoughts they wanted me to think. About... how lovely, how beautiful, how perfect it would be when they put her back, and she killed Gérard. And she would believe it, because she could already feel it." The assassin smiled. "As I do, when I kill."

Tracer shuddered. She knew, she knew that the assassin enjoyed her kills - that for a long time, it had been all she lived for. But making Amélie feel that, and Amélie knowing they made her feel that... "Was it you, then? When they did it?" she asked, hoping for an unlikely yes.

The blue assassin laughed, a sound that still made Lena's heart ring every time it happened, no matter the context. "No. I could hardly have imitated Amélie so well for so long. I'd've been discovered, almost immediately. No - it was still her." She took a sip of her coffee. It had cooled a bit, but remained hot enough for her tastes. "That's why it took her two weeks to strike."

"So in the end..." the teleporter said, voice distant in her own ears, "Amélie killed Gérard. And enjoyed it."

Widowmaker nodded. "In a way. They were never above to achieve everything they wanted with her, but they were able to recondition her enough to kill - at least, for a time. And so, she assassinated Gérard, but being torn between the grief and the guilt and the ecstasy..." She shook her head. "That all but shattered her. When she returned, as programmed, they took her apart completely. And built me."

"But you feel some of her... emotions, from then? Her conflict?"

"I do," she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. She put down her cup. "It was the only death about which I felt conflicted, until Mondatta, and the fight with you."

Lena put a third sugar in her tea. She needed something sweet right then. "D'ya ever wonder," she said, as she refilled her cup from the teapot, "if they'd done a better job sealing her off, if you might not've started to, y'know, think on your own?"

"Internal conflict as the source of self-awareness? Dr. Ziegler has suggested that idea as well." She shrugged. "I do not know. But let's say it's true - in which case, Talon did me yet another favour. They..." she picked her cup back up, sipped at the coffee, and put it back down, "left me open, on accident, to you." And she smiled again, just a little, at the side of her mouth.

The Overwatch teleporter let out her breath, and her eyes softened just a bit, as she looked into those metallic eyes. "Aw, luv. That's..."

"May I kiss you?"

Lena blinked, putting down her tea. "...you... care about..." She shook her head, just a little. "...things like that?"

"I don't know." The spider shrugged again, this time with something artificial in the nonchalance. "But I am finding I... may. At least, with you. Shall we find out?"

Lena wasn't sure what she expected. Would she be cold? Would she feel wrong, would she feel like some dead - and then no, she did not, she was not, she was none of those things, she was cool, yes, but not cold, cool like the first breezes of autumn, like the first hints of snow off the mountains, not chilling, but invigorating, and Lena returned the kiss, almost involuntarily, herself warm, no, hot, like summer sun, like the last day at a Spanish beach before the turning of the weather, and Widowmaker was just as surprised, finding herself melting just a little bit more, and she gasped, pulling away, panting, looking down at her coffee, thinking, How can she be so warm?, before looking back up at the one who had reached past her eyes of molten gold, and finding she had no words then at all.

"Blimey, luv..." managed Lena, after a moment. "You're... only the second woman ever to make me feel like that with a kiss."

"For me, you," breathed Widowmaker, eyes wide, "...are the first."

"I hope it don't make you feel like killin' someone," Lena half-laughed, half-serious, half-joking, a lot nervous and a little afraid, and if that made more than a whole, so be it. "Chiefly, me."

"Never." Widowmaker reached across the table, grabbing Lena's hands with both of her own. "Do you understand? Never. I could not."

She pulled Lena forward, close, quickly, knocking the teacup across the table, shattering it on the floor, and the smaller woman gasped, startled, but did not flee.

"I do not know why, and I do not know how, but..." The spider kissed the teleporter, again, the meeting short but intense, "...I have found someone I could never kill."

Hooooooo, thought a part of the teleporter, unexpected emotions swirling around her mind, throwing her into responding before she even knew she was doing it. This is not gonna be easy to explain, to... to anybody.

Fic or Treat!

Oct. 16th, 2017 10:32 pm
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice

[community profile] monthlysupergo

Nan's Door


DW username: [personal profile] nanslice
AO3 username: [archiveofourown.org profile] nan

You may get: Ficlets, art!

Please leave me: A fandom, character/ship, prompt, general request. Have multiple requests? Go for it! Or just leave a 'fic or treat' and get something random. You can request original artwork if you want, just give me prompts for that as well. :3

Light is on for: Dwircle, people just passing by, whoever!

Fandoms, etc.: Final Fantasy VIII (I'm rusty but I'll try), Final Fantasy XV (stick with the main four guys), Until Dawn, Law & Order: SVU, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Captain America, Star Wars (prequel trilogy!), Gundam Wing, Castlevania (Netflix series), Daredevil, Yuri on Ice (art only please!), original works, I feel like I'm forgetting fandoms but you know.

Other info: UH I don't really have any DNWs. Haha.

(prompts will be filled on the 31st!)

unf

Oct. 16th, 2017 05:14 pm
solarbird: (widow)
[personal profile] solarbird
last time i posted, i was in a bit of a slump - possibly more perceived than real, according to the numbers - but i've been digging back out a bit the last couple of days. i definitely needed to do more annabots, because of what it does for my tracking, which deathmatch does not do. the two training modes compliment each other well.

anyway, i'm home sick today with a head cold, and so had two daytime sessions and i just gotta say

do not step to me as widowmaker on defence in hanamura

just

don't

okay, so, i'm up to a 12 kill streak and my scope percentage is pretty good and my critical hit count is decent, and there's like 35 seconds left and we seem to be in good shape on defending the second point. torbjorn's got his turret up, all that, i'm coming back from spawn where i've re-healthed 'cause we don't have a healer, but while i was healing up, somebody blew up my mine on the upper platform on our left.

so i'm running out the right corridor and it's mccree and his ult is up and nobody on our team takes him down. he pulls a quadruple kill, then takes out a fifth, but gets taken down doing it.

i proceed to hold the point solo as widowmaker against reaper, lucio, and the piggy, the latter with no doubt the most brutally effective widow:76 play i have ever pulled off.

15 kill streak. and my whole team has seen it 'cause I'm the only one alive.

they all come charging out as i'm finishing off roadhog and i just wave - "hello there!" - and present them with a cleared objective, and we win.

smooth as silk.

unf.
solarbird: (tracer)
[personal profile] solarbird

[AO3 link]


"I'm pretty sure I know what we're gonna see on this video," Venom said, back in her Tracer garb, but still more than a bit blue at the edges and entirely gold in the eyes. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I know what I saw." She gave Angela Ziegler a pointed look. "But... I might be wrong."

Most of the current members of Overwatch Lunar Embassy sat around a table in the ambassador's workshop - even Fareeha, though her thoughts clearly chased rabbits elsewhere. Lena glanced over with more than a little sympathy - she hardly even remembered her mother, and couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have one return from the grave.

"If everyone's ready, I'm going to start with Ana Amari's recording," Winston said, to general assent. "I haven't looked it yet - Athena's just finished deep-scanning the media for anything... inappropriate... to our systems."

-----

Jack Morrison looked at the drive containing the video. He didn't really want to play it again - it scared him. He had some ideas about why, but he didn't like them. Being a super-soldier was one thing. Being... whatever this implied... was another entirely.

He sat quietly in his temporary quarters on the small Los Muertos compound just south of the New Mexico border. He could hear Delgado outside, running her fighters through the training regimes he'd taught her, with that new man, Arturo, acting as her second. Jack smiled to himself, hearing the noise. If we're not careful, I'm going to end up with a pretty good strike team here. Already got one that's not half bad, he thought.

The former - and, arguably, again - Strike Commander looked at the drive a third time, thought, the hell with it, and linked it to his padd. A notice came up, saying the file system was damaged, and he let it repair itself, which took only a couple of minutes, and produced a slightly larger video file.

-----

Winston hit play. The large wall display showed a view through a sniper rifle - a conventional firearm, not Talon make - and Venom chuckled a little to herself. Still using the old-style scopes, grams? Good to know. Through it, from above and from two alleys situated a town that looked hot and had signs in Spanish, a group of Los Muertos fighters spilled out, led on the far side by one all too familiar white-haired super-soldier, on the near side by a woman clearly his lieutenant mirroring his actions, and through upper windows by a set of three sharpshooters. Military tactics against cheap street thugs means a battle that would end quickly, until blam, blam, blam, and all three sharpshooters were down, and there was chaos.

Morrison dodged into view, and the sniper fired, again, quickly - Venom could see Jack all but centred in her sight - and again, that blur, and then, Morrison is fine, and dodging away, and one of the fighters with him is dead on the ground.

"What th'..." said Reyes, as Mercy blinked, and looked confused. Mei looked at the screen, and back to the doctor, similarly confused. "What just...?"

-----

Morrison saw himself spill out of the passenger side of the lead vehicle, face bloodied, just as he remembered. He stopped the video, and zoomed in as far as the footage would allow - the resolution wasn't bad, but the lens wasn't great, and the image could've been shaper. Then, the blurriness got much worse, before returning to sharper focus, and his tactical visor was intact.

What the hell, he thought.

He stopped the replay, and backed up the video, and ran it again, in slow motion, frame at a time, zoomed in as before, tracking his own movement manually.

-----

"Winston, stop the replay?"

The scientist nodded, and motion stopped.

"...re-run that last shot at Morrison, slowly."

The sniper's scope tracked the soldier, a second fighter next to him, close by, but not unduly close. The shot rang out, just behind the former strike commander's motion, but still clearly a headshot. Then the blur.

-----

His visor had definitely been wrecked. Whoever took the shot had hit it perfectly, sheering right across his eyes, ripping most of it off his face without touching his skin. Hell of a shot, he thought, complimenting whoever - or, knowing Talon, whatever - had taken it. Then the blur.

He stopped the video, and studied the frame carefully. The compression wasn't too bad, but the resolution could've been better. He zoomed out, and saw the side of the truck in as sharp a focus as it had been a few frames before - just the upper part of his face became an indistinct mass.

-----

"Stop," said Venom. The video froze in place, blur still covering most of the field. She walked up to the screen. "See these?" She pointed at the sniper scope ticks around the frame, still in perfect focus. "And this?" She pointed at a perfectly-focused truck lamppost base, in the upper left corner. "This isn't recorder artefact."

Winston nodded. "I agree. Whatever this is, it's a real effect."

"Sorry luv, but the news gets worse. I saw exactly this happen," Venom said, "though my sight. I didn't talk about it yet, 'cause I figured maybe I blinked" - though she knew damn well that was impossible - "or maybe someone ran between me and Jack right as I took the third shot. But I know I had him dead in my sights, and when I fired, somebody else was dead on the ground."

"You took a kill shot?" asked Reyes.

"Third time, in that mess? Bloody right I did."

Mei looked unhappy and Gabriel frowned, but found couldn't really argue. "...fair enough."

Venom nodded. "Step through, frame at a time?"

-----

Several more frames of blur, and then, one where it seemed to thin, and then form a line along the horizontal centre of the visor, and there the visor was, again, intact, and Morrison saw himself reaching up and activating it, without a second thought, just as he remembered, during the battle.

He flipped through the last set of frames. Nothing more than what he'd already seen - a broken visor, a blur, and an intact visor, in that order. It didn't make any sense. Nothing in the Soldier Enhancement Programme could do anything like that.

Unless.

Unless it wasn't the SEP.

-----

Several more frames of blur, and then, one frame where the blur, the fog, seemed to coalesce on the right side, and then the soldier's head was to the right, apparently unharmed, and the fighter whose head had been all but out of frame was dead, on the ground, a large section cut out, almost scooped, mostly missing, and Mei made a small choking sound as the view through the scope swept from the dead fighter's body, back to Morrison's intact and dodging head, and back to the woman, and back to Morrison, before the shooter took another shot just too late, into a wall, as Morrison dove down an alley and behind a skip.

Winston blanched, and spread the key frames across the display. Gabriel looked more than a little ill, himself. "I have seen some fucked up things in my life, but that..."

Venom looked over to Dr. Ziegler, her anger controlled, but not entirely concealed. Angela said nothing, staring intently at the images. "Doc? You gonna say somethin'?"

-----

Morrison thought back to the failed defence of Overwatch Geneva, when everything came apart, falling into Angela Ziegler's lab, badly hurt, bones broken, stumbling around in the dark, the only light the emergency exit signs and his biotic field, as he grasped around, looking for the aid kits he knew had to be down here somewhere.

He remembered finding one, no, two, and applying them both, and passing out as another blast hit the base.

And then he remembered nothing until he awoke, having somehow made his way outside, having scavenged a UN uniform from one of the Talon soldiers, and feeling more than a little out of joint, like he didn't fit back together quite right, like everything was just a little off, or a little more than a little off, and he remembered putting it out of his mind and concentrating on getting away, getting as far away as possible, before Talon's UN puppets could get ahold of him, and make him pay for his defiance.

What were you working on down there, Angela? he thought to himself.

-----

"I... this cannot be happening," the doctor said.

"Pretty sure we just saw it," replied Venom.

"What are you talking about?" asked Winston.

"Angela?" the assassin prompted.

The medic shook her head. "I know what you are thinking," she said to Venom. "But you do not understand. My experimental nanosurgeons were not capable of doing what we just saw. Not even the most advanced ones."

Mei jumped in, supporting the doctor. "It's true! I knew that generation, this was not in their operating parameters."

-----

Jack pulled out his knife, pulled up his sleeve, and cut a long gash in his arm - nothing too deep, just enough to test his enhanced healing. The skin knit itself back together, normally, like it had ever since the treatments all those years ago back in California.

He cleaned his knife, put it away, and pulled out a pistol to replace it. He stared at the medium-caliber firearm, not sure he was ready to do what he needed to do, then chided himself for not being enough of a soldier. Enough of a man. It worked.

"Delgado!" he shouted.

"Yeah, Spooky?" she replied from outside.

"Pistol's acting up. Gonna fire a couple of test rounds in here, clear it. Don't freak out."

"Sure you don't want to go to the range for that?"

"It's fine, I've got a fire box."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for the warning."

"No problem."

-----

Venom pressed the point. "You're sayin' that's not some kind of experimental nanosurgeon swarm? 'Cause it looks to me like Ana made that headshot, and then somethin' stole some parts from whoever was nearby to fix it."

Dr. Ziegler rubbed her temples. "I agree that is what it looks like. But it cannot be what I made. If nothing else - I am careful! None of my experimental versions will, or even can, remain active for so long. The last time he could've had access was when the UN moved against the Geneva watchpoint, and nothing from that generation could survive."

"The evidence," said Winston, "indicates otherwise."

"It can't be!" She slammed her palms atop the table. "None of the experimental models from that era could!"

Venom narrowed her eyes at the doctor. "None of 'em? You sure about that, doc?"

Dr. Zhou leaned over to Dr. Ziegler. "I don't think you should rule it out, I could help you go over the old records, over everything that was in there when the fighting happened..."

Angela looked over to Mei-Ling gratefully. "I really don't think it's necess..." and she blinked at a thought, and looked back to Venom. Is... that what you think? Venom's face caught the doctor's surprise, as she realised that the researcher hadn't actually put it together herself yet, and the Talon assassin just nodded, and the doctor bit her lip. "...I... it has been some years, and that was a tremendously hectic - even chaotic - time. It... we should investigate. I would very much appreciate your help in that, Mei."

"Sure, Dr. Ziegler," confirmed the eco-biologist.

"Thank you," Venom replied, nodding. About time.

"God damn," said Reyes, "Could it be more than just him? Could others be... infected?"

"Absolutely not," said Angela. "My nanosurgeons would've impressed themselves with the initial contact DNA, it would be impossible for them to spread successfully. All" - she stressed, pointedly - "of my technologies rely on that. All of them."

-----

Morrison pulled up a trouser leg, pulled off his left boot and sock, and aimed the pistol at the outer edge of his foot. It'd hurt, but it wouldn't kill anybody - particularly not him. But he hesitated.

Do it, you coward, he thought to himself. God damn it, just do it.

And he fired.

The pain was brilliant and sharp, more than he expected, but muted itself quickly. He felt suddenly almost like he was in a dream, half asleep yet fully awake, as he watched his foot splatter, then turn into a greyish and pink mist, and reform, in front of his eyes.

-----

"Meanwhile," said the Talon assassin in Tracer orange and Overwatch white, "I don't think there's any safe way to bring him in alive now. I think our friends should get the next shot."

"No!" interjected Mei, with unexpected force. "That's not what we agreed!"

Tracer, or Venom, looked over to the Chinese scientist. "We agreed Overwatch gets first shot, then..."

"No!" she insisted, even more forcefully. "I will not go along with that!" She looked straight into the assassin's gold eyes. "You are not the only one he abandoned to her death. He abandoned my entire team and I want him tried for that. I want it exposed! I want my friends to be..." she choked a little, and suddenly she was crying, "I want my friends to be remembered! I want justice for them! In court, with it all exposed for the whole world to see him for the monster he is!"

Lena blinked, and blinked again, shocked by the intensity of the normally cheerful woman's outburst, and leaned forward, "Oh wow, Mei, I'm sorry, I know what..."

"No, you don't know!" The small woman shouted. "You know what it's like to disappear for years and wake up in the future but you do not know what it is like to wake up and find all of your friends dead because he couldn't be bothered to send a rescue ship! He knew we were in cryogenic suspension and still alive. At least with you, he thought you were probably dead, but with us, he knew we were alive, and just decided to let us die!"

She continued in a small, quiet voice, "And most of us did. Slowly. In the cold. As the power ran out."

Nobody knew what to say. Gabriel and Winston knew it wasn't that simple, but knew better than to open their mouths. Angela just leaned over to the smaller woman and offered her hand, and Fareeha just sat quietly next to her wife, comforting her in turn. And then Venom found her voice, at last. "I'm... I'm sorry, Mei. You're right."

Lena "Tracer" Oxton took a long, slow, deep breath, and let it out. "I withdraw my motion. Our friends will remain on stand down. Overwatch will try again."

-----

God damn you, Ziegler, the stroke commander thought, staring at his perfectly intact left foot, which moments ago he'd shot through for a second time. He shook with unreasoning fury. What the hell did you do to me?

Fuck you polkadot.

Oct. 16th, 2017 06:05 am
clover: by <user name=insomniatic> (Nope)
[personal profile] clover
Put on cheap walmart 'dress pants' that are black with little white polkadots. These motherfuckers have pockets, I need pockets. Think I'll look super cute with a black shirt.

Result? I look like I'm in fancy ass pajamas. 

FML.

Wildlife!

Oct. 16th, 2017 12:06 am
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
We had a bit of a snake scare today. Talking about a snek! )

And also rescued a baby lizard from Hecky! I have no idea how the little guy managed to get in the house but Hecky had him. Fortunately he's a good cat who doesn't guard or growl over food or anything else, so it was easy enough to get the lizard from him. The poor little guy was playing dead while Hecky had him but as soon as I had him cupped in my hands he was quick to show his displeasure. I relocated him to a tree in the front yard away from all the predatory pets I have (and also away from the new snek friend).

Other than all that, today was a pretty chill day. Watched Little Evil, about half of the first season of Buzzfeed's Unsolved Supernatural, and the season finale of Fear the Walking Dead.

Inktober Day 8 - Day 9

Oct. 13th, 2017 10:06 pm
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
I'M BEHIND!


A friend told me I should color this, never gonna happen!


Squad goals tbh.

Some photos

Oct. 13th, 2017 09:27 pm
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
I'm so behind on replying to comments (I'm gonna do it right after posting this!) but I've been spending a lot of time on instagram lately. So photos I've posted recently.


Taken today, I pass by this house daily and finally decided to investigate it. It was spoopy. ;3; The door was locked (what seemed to be a hook and eye at the top; I was able to pull it open a bit but not enough to slip through) but since it was a screen door so I just pressed my lens against the screen to get a shot of the interior, haha.


Taken a couple of days ago, I just thought it was a nice shot.


This webbing was easily three times the size of my head and I just thought it was pretty, all covered in dew.


Taken sometime last year.


Taken sometime last year.


Taken a few days ago, I was actually just trying to seem busy so that my sister would leave me alone but I ended up with a nice shot, haha.

OH YES, so for any photographers out there, I'm not a professional photographer! Nor do I consider myself an amateur photographer. I'm strictly a cellphone photographer lmao.

pretty ugh couple of days of play

Oct. 13th, 2017 03:22 pm
solarbird: (tracer)
[personal profile] solarbird
I've had a few pretty ugh days of play lately - my averages aren't dropping off (in fact, my crit shot number is up a little) but it's felt like I've been sucking, and I've been losing a lot, even outside of free-for-all deathmatch, where frankly I expect to lose, because that is not a good forum for Widowmaker.

I just have to keep reminding myself: for me, it's not a game, it's an intentionally-unfair live-fire exercise.

But lunchtime Overwatch today was better. I was even competitive in FFA deathmatch a bit, but the real fun was an unremittingly funny - to me - game in China where I just kept sending the same piggy swimming in the Garden over and over and over again with boops. Seriously, it was like four times, and he ragequit mid-round because he simply would not learn.

(He didn't even wait 'till end of the round like half his team did before dropping. After that fourth boop he was just RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE I'M OUT. It was one of those "I can hear you shrieking from here." XD )

And then at the end of the round, two more of his team quit too. But there was backfill, which kind of meant we were facing a new team, which was definitely better but we still beat them handily.

I do rather wish that team had stuck together for a bit. People knew their business. It was nice.
solarbird: (tracer)
[personal profile] solarbird

[It's about time I showed this story deserves that pharmercy tag, don't you think?]

[AO3 link]


"She's alive." The rocketeer looked up at the ceiling from a small private berth in the medical wing. The nanosurgeons and biotic field had done their work, and both she and Dr. Zhou were fine, all checked out and ready for action - at least, physically. "No call, no letter, no hint she'd survived, and now... this?"

The combat doctor sat by the bed, holding her wife's hand. She shook her head. "It's..."

"I can't believe it," Fareeha continued, unheeding. "I can't believe she's still alive. I just can't." She squeezed her eyes half-shut, still looking at the ceiling, but really, looking at memories. "We buried her, years ago, how...?"

"I remember." The funeral - like so many, at the time - had lacked a body. But there was a ceremony and a marker and a reception and most of all that empty feeling that wouldn't ever entirely go away, as much as Angela might try to fill it, a feeling of finality that did not sit well with being undone. "I had no idea."

"I know," said the soldier, gently squeezing that slender hand. "How could you have?"

"Are you angry at me for hitting her?"

Fareeha snorted. "I... no? Why? I don't think so. It sounded to me like she deserved it. Had I been awake, I think I might have given her more than a good slap - but I don't know." She rubbed her forehead with her free left hand. "She is my mother, and I always loved her, but she has always been like that, and now this, and now I don't know what to think."

"It feels unreal to me, even now, and I was there," said Angela. "I saw her myself, with my own eyes, but..."

"'Unreal.'" Fareeha sampled the sound of the adjective. "That's a good word for it." She shook her head. "I know, at some point, this will sink in. But right now, it hasn't."

Angela leaned down on her lover's shoulder, and no, that did not work. "Scoot over, there is room," she said, sliding onto the berth with her wife. "I am still very angry at her."

Fareeha put her head on Angela's shoulder. "I'm not surprised. I will be too, I think, eventually." She took a deep fortifying breath, trying to steady herself. "But she's right about one thing - about doing what is necessary. It's a military ethic, and I do understand it."

"Schiisdräck. It's just another excuse. She has always found excuses."

She has indeed, Fareeha thought, though she did not want to admit it. "You are not from a military family," she deflected. "You wouldn't understand."

"Don't give me that," she replied, poking her wife with pleasant indignity. "I'm Swiss - we are all military, in one way or another."

"Real military," goaded the Egyptian, a little smile on her face.

"Oh ho ho, is that how we are going to play this?" she chortled. "Do I have to slap you today as well? I remind you whose army has not lost a war in two and a half centuries."

"Do I have to remind you who hasn't fought a war in two and a half centuries?" retorted the rocketeer with a bit of a smile, for the moment.

"Because no one dares fight us," she said, with customary Swiss satisfaction. "Of course."

"I certainly will not fight you, not in the face of that logic," said the rocketeer, a quiet wryness in her voice as the sound of it went soft. "I surrender."

"Another glorious Swiss victory! But so easily?"

Fareeha rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around her wife, and let out a long, low, shuddering sigh. "Would you just... hold me, for a little while, until we have to go upstairs?"

Oh, beloved, Angela thought, is it starting to register with you? "Of course I will. Come on, love, let it out." She pulled her lover's head against her chest, and slowly, softly petted her head as she quietly started to cry. She put away her angry thoughts about Ana Amari, and comforted her wife, instead - a far better and more immediate concern. "I'm here for you," she whispered, "as long as you will have me."

Hopefully, she thought, forever.

(no subject)

Oct. 11th, 2017 09:23 pm
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
Today I was using plastic silverware and like a Grown Adult I managed to swallow part of one of the fork tines. ;;;;; It was a pretty small piece, less than half an inch but. SIGH. Google tells me this is actually super common and I'll live and just pass it but I'm 100% sure it's going to destroy my intestines and I'll die of internal bleeding. Haha!

Kiddo ended up not coming over yesterday, since her idiot dad is allowing her boyfriend to stay over at their house and told her mother (who lives in Denver) that kiddo seemed like she was high or drunk or something. And this is the child who attempted suicide a few weeks ago, I am just flabbergasted at how poorly he's managing this. Also pretty confused and annoyed that her mother allowed her to go to Spartanburg, since that's where all of her problems came from, but I'm not a parent so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Pretty unhappy right now tbh.

166 | on gift fics I've received

Oct. 11th, 2017 12:49 am
straightforwardly: a black & white cat twining around a girl's legs; both are outside. (Default)
[personal profile] straightforwardly
Darkest Night fic reveals happened the other day! And by the other day, I mean “about a week ago”, oops. Author reveals are tomorrow, and I’ll probably post about it again then to talk about the fic I wrote / my general experience with the exchange (spoilers: it was positive!), but first, I want to heartily rec my gift!
From the Ashes (8046 words) by Anonymous
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Lalli Hotakainen & Tuuri Hotakainen
Characters: Lalli Hotakainen, Tuuri Hotakainen
Additional Tags: Faustian Bargain, Resurrection, Comes Back Wrong, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Finnish Mythology & Folklore
Summary: There is a way to return Tuuri. Lalli takes it, even knowing the cost.

There’s a lot of excellent fic in the collection (go check it out if you haven’t already!) but this one is easily my favorite. I feel like I won the exchange lottery. ♥

► Speaking of gifts… recently (as in, actually recently, not a week ago), someone cross-posted the fic they wrote for me for the 2015 round of the Pokemon Holiday Exchange to AO3. (Not sure why they put it in the Anonymous Collection—there’s nothing actually wrong with it. I liked it!) Rereading it actually brought back a lot of my old Pokemon main game-fandom feelings in general, and my Dawn feelings in particular. I still do love her an awful lot.

It also inspired me to go back and look at what my sign-up for that year had been, and…I really like a lot of the prompts I left there? Looking at them actually made me feel vaguely inspired. I don’t know for certain if I’ll ever actually go back and write for that fandom again, but I’ve saved them for future reference, just in case.

► And one thing that isn’t directly or indirectly about gift-fics… My older brother’s been playing Freedom Planet lately, and the following exchange happened the other day when I asked about the gender of the character he was playing (paraphrased): beneath the cut )

I mean. I’m still not jumping to play it, but I’m amused by how well he knows me.

(no subject)

Oct. 10th, 2017 02:27 pm
nanslice: (Default)
[personal profile] nanslice
I'm still doing Inktober - they're being posted regularly on instagram - but I had a really bad mental health episode Saturday night and I've been trying to recover from that so I've not been up for going through all the rigmarole of posting them here. My first therapy appointment is tomorrow; not a moment too soon, I guess!

Mom and I binged Channel Zero: Candle Cove and started on No-End House today; Spoilers ) so we've only watched the first episode. We also watched Chernobyl Diaries yesterday which was a serviceable horror movie with a really dumb ending and rewatched Lights Out which....EH.

This is Us, Law & Order: SVU and Will & Grace are all back so I have a show Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. I'm honestly not used to being interested in that many airing shows. XD

EDIT: And it is now Tuesday! I got back from my therapy appointment and mental health issues )

Anyway, I think we're probably going to catch up on the next two episodes of No-End House and Kiddo might be coming over today, which is really freaking awesome. ♥
clover: by <user name=clover> (Dahshunds)
[personal profile] clover
It's not a secret I don't like football. I especially don't like kids playing football because of how dangerous it is. I particularly don't like high school football because schools are always cutting budgets on things like the arts for their fucking football team. 

My oldest son is in competition marching band. They aren't a pep band, they are not a show band. They do competitions. They have more trophies than their school's football team. No joke.

So this last friday night the football announcer at our glorious brand new broke-the-school-district stadium went on facebook after the game and said that the marching band is only there to support the football team and that they lost because the band kids do not support the team. That they were setting up their show before the 4th was finished and that the band director talked too long before the band played. That the band kids sometimes cheer for the other teams! That their only purpose is to support the football team. A lot of other unsavory things were said, but I missed the post before it got deleted and had to be nosy and text another parent and ask what was said. Something about how marching band parents leave after halftime and thats disrespectful. Yeahhhh I'm one of those. I pay to get in, and I leave, because I fucking hate football. I gave you money for your fucking stadium to support the fucking school and your fucking football team, but I can leave when I fucking want. 

Their show is called Lost Vegas. It's an apocalyptic Vegas. The fucking color guard runs around rampant in the beginning and sometimes they look around looking for survivors. Which they changed. They also wear red ribbons. They also SELL the red ribbons and every cent goes to the victims and family of what happened in Las Vegas.

OF COURSE THE BAND DIRECTOR HAD TO TALK BEFORE. The kids won't even wear their Lost Vegas shirts anymore after what happened. They have been working their asses off --- mind you, just as hard as football players (the band kids have to run a bunch of laps and stand in the heat and rain and are physically exhausted, yes!) --- since late July! They cant change their show now, but they are upset and sad. So at the start of every show they are going to talk about that and talk about what the red ribbons mean.

And this fucking announcer was all "they are only there to support the football team" bullshit.

Also, I know what he was talking about when cheering for the other team. They were cheering a good play, something awesome that happened for a specific player, and yeah, it was for the other team. You know that our marching band parents bake cookies for the opposing teams marching band? And yes, some of the other marching bands are pep bands and even show bands - but ours isnt. 

Naturally this guy isn't getting fired, either. Which I think is absolute bullshit.
solarbird: (widow)
[personal profile] solarbird
I took Widowmaker back into quickplay games tonight. The first couple of rounds, I was with some furiously terrible teams, but I had decent shot percentages and such even if my numbers otherwise weren't exactly good.

But then I finally got a game with a decent team - well, sort of, eventually; we were down 4 on 6 for the first two checkpoints and being steamrolled. But then we got two backfill players and I got hot and we won because:

26 KILLS.
22 KILL STREAK.
60% HIT RATE.
8 CRITICAL HITS.
DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW MANY TURRETS BUT GODDAMN IT WAS A LOT THAT WAS A BUSY DWARF WHEN HE WASN'T DEAD.

towards the end half or more of the enemy team made me first target and could not bring me down. d.va charged me three times with rockets and guns flying and never made it to me once.

I've been the Widowmaker I want to be for 30 seconds or so at a time before, and once, for two minutes. This was six minutes thirty seconds.

pow

pow

pow

it was wonderful.