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League of Heroes: Ascent
Episode 3: Darkest Before Dawn - Part 2
“We interrupt our continuing coverage of the New Brickton prison break, it seems that we are getting an unexpected live feed from the madness in Midtown.” The news anchor stuttered, nervously shuffling through the stack of papers on the news desk. “Frank, can you switch us over…”
Static… and then the picture suddenly changed from the busy news room to a devastated street. A blonde woman, statuesque and menacing stares into a shaky camera lens.
“Good morning citizens of New Brickton. From this day forward, it will be remembered that you sent forth your champions to face Celedon the Destroyer… and I have found them wanting. They lie here now in pathetic heaps, driven before me and broken at my feet. Is this really the best you have to offer? I demand a challenge worthy of my strength! For every hour that I am unsatisfied, I will raise another block of this insignificant city! Your only other option is complete surrender. Death or servitude, I give you the gift of choice mortals. Your first hour begins now.”
The broadcast suddenly cuts to a rainbow test pattern. Unseen by the camera, a winged figure descends to the devastated street. Upon touching down on the pavement, she kneels over the motionless form of the Indestructible Man.
“Wake up! Please!” She shakes Fred’s seemingly lifeless body, “Fred, I don‘t know what’s happened to us, but I do know that you are still alive and I know that we need to get you and your friends out of here.”
This was built for the League of Lego Heroes Group… www.flickr.com/groups/llh/
Sadly the sensor on my camera was about to die.
That`s why it keeps stuttering` the next day my camera was dead
Major Mitchell's or Pink Cockatoo
(Cacatua leadbeateri)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
.
Description
This is possibly the most beautiful of all cockatoos. There is nothing more stirring than seeing these birds in their natural habitat. Radiant in the setting sun, they are a sublime mixture of subtle salmon pink, with bleached white wings and crowns and brilliant scarlets and yellows on the crest. Unfortunately, the call is nowhere near as attractive, being described as an unmistakable stuttered, quavering, falsetto cry (Pizzey and Knight, 1997). These cockatoos are often found in pairs or family flocks, but have been seen in flocks of up to several hundred individuals, where food is abundant. Major Mitchell’s Cockatoos usually roost in family flocks, but can also be seen in mixed flocks with Galahs and even Corellas.
A pair of Major Mitchell's Cockatoos.
Description, Range and Habits
Pink Cockatoos are birds of the semi-arid and arid zones of all parts of Australia, except Tasmania. Major Mitchell’s Cockatoos feed on seeds, fruits, nuts and tubers from a variety of native plants, especially Acacia (wattle) and Callitris species (Crome and Shields, 1992). As a result, this bird is often seen feeding in small groups, in dense bushes and trees. The author has observed up to 15 individuals all sitting in a 2 m high bush, and feeding raucously, for over an hour. Major Mitchell’s Cockatoos are most often seen high up in the branches of Salmon Gums (Eucalyptus salmonophloia) and similar large eucalypts, in heavily timbered creeklines or roadside verges, in parts of the wheatbelt of Western Australia. It is these large, hollow eucalypts which the Pink Cockatoo requires, to breed in. During April-December (depending on the state or territory of Australia), up to 4 eggs are laid high up in the hollows of these trees, away from predators.
Conservation Status and Threats
The WA race of the Pink Cockatoo (C. leadbeateri mollis) is scarce throughout most of WA, and is listed as Schedule 4 under the Wildlife Conservation Act (1950), referring to fauna that is in need of special protection. The primary causes for its decline are land clearance for agriculture, and subsequent fragmentation of remaining habitat. Many of the large, old eucalypts which the Pink Cockatoo needs to breed in, have been cut down and cleared. The small remnants of land that remain are not suitable as breeding is density dependent, meaning that there is not enough space in most remnants, to host more than one pair of Pink Cockatoos, if any (Garnett (Ed.), 1993). This species also does not like flying across large, cleared areas of land, and is hence confined to large blocks of remnant bush or undisturbed areas outside the agricultural zone. The Pink Cockatoo has also been threatened by the avicultural trade (ie. nest egg poachers) and doubtlessly by feral cats. Competition with Galahs for nest hollows is also a possible factor in the Pink Cockatoo’s demise.
Taffy stuck, tongue tied
Stutter-shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am...fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
I am
colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
El caramelo pegado y la lengua atada
tartamudeo y estoy tenso
sácame del interior.
estoy bien.
Estoy cubierto en piel
a nadie le permito entrar
sácame del interior.
Estoy doblado, y desdoblado, y desdoblado
estoy
daltónico
café negro y huevos blancos
sácame del interior.
Estoy listo ...
HD - if difficult to stream, start playback, then pause for ... (or until the grey line gets towards the end), then play without stutter.
Operations have just resumed at Newell & Wright"s additional base at Tinsley Yard, after a stuttering start due to local site conditions and flooding on the network.
2 reach stackers wade through the slurry, whilst unloading the 4E00 from London Gateway, brought in by 66708 "Jayne".
These two were waiting on the edge of the village for a lift into town. Fortunately, we had some spare seats and were able to help. Stutter Village, Tibet
NEW YORK, NEW YORK - JULY 11: Wynter Mabry and Emily Blunt attend the 2022 Freeing Voices, Changing Lives Gala at Guastavino's on July 11, 2022 in New York City. (Photo by Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images for American Institute for Stuttering)
Taken from right-to-left, as I was sitting on the north side of the train, headed west.
I really like what happened when I set the camera on my phone to 'panorama' and then held it stationary against the window of the train: (from an email I wrote) "The camera accrues the image unevenly: it's looking for motion but its internal gyroscope ("accelerometer") is confused. If things aren't changing much in the foreground, the picture 'piles up' and the horizon stutters, but water or trees close-by trigger a richer capture
This was just after sunrise. Fall colours here, and lots of standing water."
Every night Ibrahim, our dromedari driver would hobble the legs of his animals, to keep them from straying too far from camp. Since it was mating season, that didn't do all that much to deter these gentlemen from making a break for it in search of females. They really hustled, albeit with a pretty silly, stuttering walk.
and ChaCha had captured it in the suit.
Love those liver spots, Marcel, not quite freckles but a good simulacrum. I still love when grown men stutter, it makes me feel protective towards them, like I want to tell them it is OK, they will be fine.
It gives me a little heartache, but not of the bad kind.
I guess it's called 'fellow-feeling', or something like that.
I particularly love when we make mistakes and realise it, almost simultaneously.
Reconstructing that room above the shop, coaxing out 'memory aids' in the telling of a story of a possible transformation. The shop was called the 'Bon Bon', and stuttering Ruin's nickname was Ruin Bon-Bon.
The building is gone now, replaced by a fun palace called 'Playtime'. There is a certain poetry there.
There are no other records of the place, other than this photo of Ruin's sister (on the right) with her youngest brother, in need of a nappy change. The other girl, a long dead friend of Ruin's sister, can bask in the limitless anonymity generously provided by infrathin.
Infinity is funny like that.
What's real is real (see below). What is reconstructed is obvious. It's a way forward in a backwards direction, photoshopped (and A.I.'d) to within an inch of its life.
There was another smaller window above the door (St. Patricks), the doorway is 'real', but only one window is of interest to me, or to Ruin rather.
I like the geometric imposition, triangles and rectangles imposed on what was fundamentally chaotic, like some dilapidated preordained order, making it somewhat closer even to what it actually was, this dingy window framing abuse and possible healing.
Ruin could feel that possibility deep in the pit of his stomach, unsurprisingly more or less exactly where he remembered the initial intrusion of the abuse to have lodged, when he was a boy.
March 2011, Walnut
We only had a few film left on the polaroid so we have to make everything count. This one turned out unexpectedly well. Very much inspired by my flickr buddy, Jason Curescu's photo.
Stuttering Barred Frog (Mixophyes balbus), Central Coast, New South Wales.
A great frog and a nice surprise to see a male in full breeding colour this late in the season.
Sometimes there would be performers down at the cantina. Stuttering droids, magicians, and twi'leks dancing to Brickney Spears was the norm. Today's entertainment was completely different though.
Washpool National Park, New South Wales.
For use of this photo please contact clancywildlife@gmail.com
Russian postcard by Goznak, Moscow, Series no. 9, no. A 15639, 1928. The card was issued in an edition of 10.000 copies. The price was 10 Kop.
Anatoli Ktorov (1898-1980) was a brilliant Soviet and Russian film and stage actor who stuttered in real life but was perfectly eloquent in acting roles. He had a career spanning from silent films, Yakov Protazanov, to the Oscar-winning epic Voyna i mir / War and Peace (1965-1967). He became a People's Artist of the USSR in 1963.
Anatoli Ktorov (Russian: Анатолий Кторов) was born Anatoli Petrovich Viktorov in 1898 in Moscow. His grandfather was a successful merchant, and his father, named Pyotr Viktorov, was an industrial engineer. His mother was a pianist and singer. Young Ktorov was brought up in an artistic environment of Moscow's cultural milieu. He attended Classical Gymnasium in Moscow and was fond of acting in school drama class. In 1916, at age 18, Ktorov became a student at the Acting School of Fyodor Komissarzhevsky, a stern acting coach who was critical of Ktorov's stuttering. But Ktorov, who was a shy person in real life, demonstrated his remarkable persistence and determination. He practised his lines several hundred times. In 1917, Ktorov made his stage acting debut at the Komissarzhevsky Theatre. Ktorov never stuttered on-stage. However, director Komissarzhevsky did not believe in Ktorov, and his career seemed to be limited to cameo roles. Ktorov's fate was changed by Illarion Pevtsov, who believed in Ktorov's talent and took him as a protégé. In 1919, Pevtsov introduced Ktorov to Vera Popova, an established actress and experienced acting coach. She also recognised Ktorov's talent and took him under her wing. Eventually, Popova became Ktorov's partner on stage and in life.
From 1920 to 1933, Anatoli Ktorov was a permanent member of the troupe at the Korsh Theatre in Moscow. There, he played leading roles in classic dramas and comedies, as well as in contemporary plays, with Vera Popova as his permanent stage partner. In 1925, Ktorov shot to fame with a leading role opposite Igor Ilyinsky in the silent film comedy Zakroyshchik iz Torzhka/The Tailor from Torzhok (1925) by director Yakov Protazanov. He also gave an impressive performance in Protazanov's comedy Prazdnik svyatogo Yorgena/St. Jorgen's Day (Yakov Protazanov, 1930) starring Igor Ilyinsky. The highlight of Ktorov's career was his brilliant performance as Paratov in the classic film Bespridannitsa/Without a Dowry (Yakov Protazanov, 1936), starring Nina Alisova. It was based on Alexander Ostrovsky's play 'Without a Dowry' (1878). However, Soviet directors did not want to cast him after these films, and Anatoli Ktorov did not have any film work for 25 years. Ktorov's aristocratic looks and noble manners were not in demand in the Soviet Union, while most Soviet films were dominated by political propaganda under the dictatorship of Joseph Stalin. From 1933 to 1980, Ktorov was a permanent member of the troupe at Moscow Art Theatre. Anatoli Ktorov was designated People's Artist of the USSR (1963), was awarded the Stalin Prize (1952) and received numerous decorations for his contribution to the art of film and theatre. His last film roles are considered to be his best works. He was Prince Bolkonsky in Voyna i mir/War and Peace (Sergei Bondarchuk, 1967), and then he played the King in Posol Sovetskogo Soyuza/The Ambassador of the Soviet Union (Georgy Natanson, 1969). Anatoli Ktorov died of natural causes in 1980 in Moscow and was laid to rest in Vvedenskoye Cemetery in Moscow, Russia.
Sources: Steve Shelokhonov (IMDb), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Woahhhhh Im done... i can't believe I finished this in one day. Wooohoo. Hahaha. I hope this takes me to the top 2. I saw Anna's entry and it was Amazing. I loved it. Well I love this pic nao... cause Baja looks soo glam as a girl from the time period they had to portray jus look at her.. Soo sexxay and seductive... Purrr. hahaa. She looks purty tho. The guys were hard to do. LOL. And I finally found what I wanted for them. Im sorry for the crappy shadows. I suck haha. Well i really like the pose alone, she looks sooo stunning ahaha.
Well I have been uninspired with sims lately, not only cause school is kickin me in the butt. But because I am also having different family problems on my fathers side of the family. And it's just troubling me. Actually while I did this I honestly took a few glances at some of @tsushi's pics. Cause she really inspires me, and gurl if it wasn';t for ur flickr I woulda been quit haha.
Well Baja didn't get into Poise. Grrr. But she is a replacement. And I have been Rping with her and hound's Sebastian. And they is in love. I think ahaha. She got her first kiss from him and she is head over heels, but its lieks a soap opera. Vivians girl wants to eat Baja omggg I cant bear the site haha. but Brandy is gorgeous. If Baja does make it into the house there will be cat fights against them two haha. Well I hope u like.
And click on this link to view the large one is jagunda huge lmaooo.
It's real big. haha thanks for commenting on my pics u guys> U all make me happy. And wish me luck . :)
Ex Hong Kong (China Motor Bus) Leyland / Dennis Condor at Market and Stutter in San Francisco working for Big Bus Tours.
And if we get beaten by this winter,
If we get strangled by regret,
just let our love of life and tension
Gasp in sweet and stuttered breaths,
and have them lay us in a basement,
Smash some bottles on the ground,
and say we couldn't tell the difference between the feeling and the sound.
------------------
I was actually going to attempt the Brenzier method today but screwed up halfway through and gave up. I don't think this was the right image for it anyway. I'm not positive how happy/displeased I am with this yet, but it's going up for now.
I was going to do something more dark and brooding due to the recent school shooting that happened incredibly close to my very own town, but decided that light rather be shed on the situation, hence the lightbulbs. Speaking of light, I am off to the candlelight vigil for the school in a few minutes. Be at peace, my loves.
*** Chapter 3 - σημαδιακός ***
} Cavendish Institute of Anthropology {
} Nottinghamshire, England {
“You, you, and you… keep your distances,” says Dr. Minerva, not too loudly.
Diana and Iris’ trip through the latter’s portal was instantaneous, with no mental resistance from the being whom Iris had invoked. It was evident, in fact, that this being called Epimetheus had been praying for their arrival long before Iris had, in the way they found him standing——in a manner that was equal parts stately and awkward——at Dr. Minerva’s desk; she, playing the principal, and he the delinquent.
He is an audacious head taller than Diana, and wears not but an armored skirt, greaves over his sandals, and a baldric which bears no weapon. His hair is young, disagreeing with the lines of his cheeks and mouth. His eyes are marbled like galaxies.
“Hello,” Epimetheus reflexively spouts to his allies, realizing a moment later that he would have liked to express a welcome of greater magnitude. He rebounds by promptly turning his back, and tries to appease Minerva.
“This… is Lady Diana, the one I mentioned…”
The study feels more like an extended mausoleum to Diana, what with every window’s curtains let down. One is boarded. Minerva’s library rises column after column: Dark leather spines, absorbing the minimal setting sunlight that could find its way in.
Minerva dips her chin to look over her spectacles with bloodshot eyes. “That’s Wonder Woman,” she deduces pointedly: Once again, not too loudly.
Epimetheus cringes from this. “Oh. I do see now. Using man’s name for her might have been more reassuring for you to hear.”
“No I don’t… care that it’s Wonder Woman…”
Minerva restarts, seeing Diana and Iris wanting to change the subject. “Sorry, this nice man introduced himself, to inform me he’s taking me to Hell. Think you could help a girl out?”
“What? He—” Diana gives Epimetheus a look of disbelief that makes him reflect on his verbiage. She clears her head. “Dr. Minerva, we need your help and our time runs short. The Golden Apple must be found.”
Minerva is unimpressed. “I couldn’t have guessed. Look, you aren’t the f—“
“Please, Minnie,” Epimetheus steps in, “you must trust Diana…”
“Oi, where are you getting ‘Minnie’ from?!” Minerva protests, looking him up and down.
Epimetheus stutters. “Pardon me, Eris told me it was your favored—“
“What ‘heiress’?”
“Barbara,” Diana uses this time.
Barbara sighs, at the plaque in front of her.
“The threat of the apple could be more grave than any of us fathom.”
“‘Dr. Minerva’,” Barbara insists rigidly. “We’re not mates. And besides I’ve earned it.”
The end of Iris’ staff clangs on the tile as she advances on Barbara. “If you have the faith in your discoveries that we do, and if the apple’s position in Hades is yet a mystery, you will allow us to help. You know of Wonder Woman, that she has fought wars alongside your nation. She will fight for you now.”
The others can see Barbara weighing them, in the vein of an outnumbered duelist. With Diana in the middle of another plea, the professor switches gears. She gives a marginal berth to Iris’ tufted wings——and a mystified peek to the very same——on her way to a particular section of her study, where she begins snatching book after book. Diana witnesses Barbara’s reservations receding, and giving way to the craving for knowledge which governed her more than cynicism ever could. This makes the Amazons' princess smile.
Barbara relocates some strands of hair from her vision, hunching over her load. “I have a lot to gather here. If we’re going to do this, and get it right.”
“We will get it right, and it is because we have you. … The manuscript?” asks Diana, noticing that in the sea of Barbara’s work on her desk, one bound parchment took pride of place. It appeared a longer read than the Iliad. She expected nothing less of Eris.
“The poem… is a nuisance. Most of it is reiterative, of the Underworld, broadly. If it has any answers for the apple’s precise coordinates, I do believe we will have to decode the wording through other texts. Only one line about its abandonment stood apart, in my mind.”
Barbara navigates the manuscript’s daunting pages for all of three seconds, then groans. “Oh sod it. … 'αλεπούδων,' 'κλαυθμός'… I-it was, ‘By the father’s hand, where the foxes’ cries are loudest.’”
“‘The father’s hand’…”
“Is that Iris? THAT Iris?” Barbara interrupts Diana’s brainstorming with a deep whisper.
Diana beams, surprised. “Mm.”
Not ready to be having fun just yet, Barbara relegates herself to a tilt of the neck and a casual: “This is a bloody trip.”
At this time, Iris has become a curiosity to Epimetheus also, as they stand away from the tomes and riddles being tackled by the other two. To satisfy this curiosity, the elder employs very little finesse.
“Haven’t we… I have seen you before—"
For eons, the goddess has wished not for this encounter, but Iris was informative, by nature, and the words she was to deliver were none too often her own. The few she has for Epimetheus are bold, and aggrieved, and he receives them now.
She refrains from eye contact. “Arke. You remember my sister Arke. She was loyal to your father and the others during the Titanomachy.”
With great strain, Epimetheus finds a response not wholly inconsiderate. “Forgive an old man. I’m sure that Arke’s loyalty is not forgotten to the others of my bloodline.”
“Of that, I am sure also. The Olympians had her cast into Tartarus with them.”
It is difficult to say which of the two wishes more that Iris’ bitter statement could be undone. Their overdue dialogue ends.
Barbara knocks on her desk, for Epimetheus’ ear. “Oi big man. You want to go and make sure you got all the Jerries, while we sort this?”
Diana does not think she hears correctly. “… German soldiers, here?” She turns for the corridor past Barbara’s workspace.
“The worst kind. It tried to say, before, I’ve had company here,” Barbara mentions critically. “They’ve had me cornered ever since I finally got my findings published… and that called for more than a few strings and teeth to be pulled. The first proper recognition I get for it, for realizing the Olympians were real players in our history, and it isn’t from the university, it’s from these fascists. That’d be my luck.”
Barbara takes a breath and cocks her head, whilst sifting through her papers. “… which is yet another reason to keep this short. They’re obsessive about the apple. They have this insane bitch with a mask… she’s tried to drug me into sharing more than I know.”
Diana freezes.
“Don’t be alarmed, Lady Diana,” Epimetheus tells her, with a timorous pride, “Eris brought me here herself, and I checked each room. Minn… —nerva’s tormentors are all accounted for; I asphyxiated them. Stealthily, you know.”
This does nothing to pacify the princess. “And this masked woman was among them?”
“Hm, well—”
“‘Eris’,” Barbara clutches her forehead, at the first of her two revelations. “Wait, did you just pop in here like these two did? They’ve had a perimeter outside! They’re going to be trying to radio every last blighter in here!”
Diana thrusts the pivotal manuscript into Barbara’s arms. “We must go, now. Iris…?”
“Go where? Wait! All my work—”
“I am sorry,” is Barbara’s compensation, “but we cannot linger here to collect everything.”
Barbara pulls out of Diana’s light grasp. “Oh yes we can; this is my life! I am not leaving it to—“
On cue, a commotion rings through the institute’s halls. Men, and boots, and the clacking of firearms. Diana’s attention flits from Barbara, to the shadows moving beyond the study’s surrounding curtains, to the vacant scabbard at Epimetheus’ side. In another swift hand-off, the Amazon has lent her own sword and shield to her estranged cousin. His reaction is timid.
“Oh, that would have been very, very good. I don’t… these things don’t always come to me…”
“Iris?” Diana prompts a second time, preparing both fists.
“I… can’t see her,” Iris reports. Her words and her staff both shake. “She will not answer!”
Diana curses Eris’ name. “… Take us to Olympus, then! To Zeus, to anyo—“
The initial strike is too fast for even Diana to counter. But not for Iris. The mild messenger of the gods suddenly swells with a kinetic rush and rotates her caduceus parallel with her arm, spinning off of the floor like a top to deflect a hazy, lavender blast unleashed from the hallway. This succeeds in defending Barbara, who stumbles into the bookcase to her back, meanwhile Iris’ interception robs her of balance; she contacts the study's tile on her side, gasping from the heat, of which there is plenty coursing through the staff that scorches her hand.
The second is dealt with by Diana, as Epimetheus inefficiently avails her shield. The bolt crackles past him, into the waiting vambraces of Wonder Woman; they clash together like the jaws of a bear trap, atomizing the shot. Her armor is able to withstand the residual heat unlike Iris, but one surge of energy escapes the vice, and scores a shoulder. The Amazon is brought to one knee. Through the stabbing pain, she isolates a voice——that of the attackers’ commander——reaching her pulsing eardrums as a garbled, but shrill,
“OAFS! You will kill the professor! Let her handle this.”
Diana grimaces. “Occult weaponry. Amplified by… cybernetics.”
She heaves like a workhorse to stand, cracking the masonry below her. Epimetheus again positions himself in front. The men are fast approaching, but with their cannon-like armaments aimed down. They are soldiers, nonuniform but identifiably-German, in remnants of raiment a fair decade out of style.
Diana takes Epimetheus’ shoulder. “No. Protect Minerva, and I will Iris.”
The two circle over, daring the wall of mercenaries with every step each side takes. Barbara retreats to a display shelf, hands behind her and feet together. Though she cannot even pick herself off the floor, to rescue their party, Iris unthinkingly and valiantly calls to the Olympians with her caduceus, only to feel the implement lock in place above her head in an invisible, iron grip that makes her own nearly crumple.
Diana senses the disturbance, and without fully turning her body from the more insistent threat of the soldiers, she lets fly her lasso at Iris’ hindrance. The enchanted rope clings to its mark, as its power over deception dispels some equally supernatural cloak on, first, an arm: Encrusted in an indigo armor with a constant, viscous animation to it. Then the body——a woman’s——dressed as aristocracy, but for a collared cape that speaks to an exceptional, outré conceit. The last of her disguise fizzles out as she anchors the lasso around her own shoulder. From the copper shell she has for a face comes the voice. It is an Indian intonation, distorted with the hum of servos, and inexorable hatred.
“If you protect her,” Doctor Cyber growls, “how will you run this time?”
The villainess pulls Diana off her feet and into a brutish blow from Iris’ staff; its owner has not let go still, and uses Cyber’s wild swing to win the tug-of-war. With her reclaimed weapon, Iris tumbles closer to some soldiers, as Diana’s flight ends in an explosion of dust and paper on the far wall. Cyber shows no interest in recapturing Barbara, who has but one guardian remaining. Cyber only has eyes for the Amazon.
Not wasting an ounce of momentum inadvertently given to her, Iris skids on one shin and braces the caduceus against her back to take the knees out from under three of the soldiers who did not anticipate the fight coming to them so abruptly. She kicks off a fourth’s chest to vault back to Epimetheus, who squares off with one impetuous colossus among the Germans: Per his orders, he is all too glad to lay down his gun, as it is an invitation to brawl with the similarly-statured Titan. Epimetheus’ abashed expression is the man’s downfall, for as he boldly tries to take the immortal’s gifted shield and hilt right out of his hands, Epimetheus shoves him the length of the hall from which he entered, and out the window at its end. Epimetheus clears his throat and conventionally points Diana’s sword at the next closest man.
Cyber whips the stolen Lasso of Truth around one arm, then absently aims the other behind herself, letting loose a cartridge from a mechanism on her wrist. It fractures close enough to Iris’ landing that it knocks the goddess flat on her back with its momentary, concussive burst of hard-light. Epimetheus’ shield catches most of the assault for him and he is blown back to Barbara, but stays upright. Unconcerned with her results, Cyber is not caught off guard by a revived Diana rocketing back into the fray. Awareness, however, is no match for the speed at which Diana plants a knee in Cyber’s torso, and bashes her mask with both fists clasped in a club. The Amazon tucks and rolls to come to Iris’ aid, who is set upon by two gunmen with clear shots. Diana, in desperation, punches straight through one’s weapon, spilling the blistering properties of its battery on all three of them. Three of them scream; Diana’s is the only one that lasts.
Not all of the men are dissuaded, now descending on both dazed women. Epimetheus is met with a dilemma; there is no time to consciously ignore his mission from Diana when he overhand lobs her shield to save her. The overlarge discus drops two soldiers at once, and gongs to the ground. Epimetheus takes the one step back to Barbara, who looks at him expectantly.
“I should’ve… I, thought I could throw it to make it come…”
Coping with her burns, Diana’s agony takes on a whole new life as she feels the ebb within the arteries of her neck and legs disobey her, slowing, then churning in an unseen storm. It is not powerful enough to move her unwillingly, but the heroine capitulates to the internal pull, tripping back toward Cyber. Wonder Woman’s foe is on her stomach from her bludgeoning: One of her hands extends to the princess to perpetuate the unearthly tractor field, and with the other, Cyber is menacing her own men via a claw swirling with a fearful vortex, to keep them from executing Diana.
“Fool. You were most generous with blood samples when we last parted.”
Another merciless yank from Cyber, and Diana almost topples. She can see out the corner of her eye that Iris stirs, but the goddess is again close to being seized. Just before it is out of her reach, Diana lofts with one arm the desk bearing all of Barbara’s pertinent research, ridding Iris of several assailants, and eliciting an anguished cry from Barbara. Diana falls the rest of the way into Cyber’s clutches, with the mad doctor’s left hand grabbing her right, and its armor sealing around them to ensure a close-quarters resolution.
“Don’t disappoint me now.”
Cyber batters the warrior princess with a gauntlet laden with the same energies as the soldiers’ weapons, alternating jabs into knees, then a rib, the underarm… but Diana’s capacity for pain has been met, tenfold, and the latest torment now revitalizes her. She flexes her right hand straight through the enveloping alloy, shattering Cyber’s fingers and the device bewitching her Amazon blood. Cyber screeches, slashing until she has Diana by the hair, and then activates thrusters on her upper arms. The pair is supersonic for that split-second of spiking into the floor, rattling both powerhouses a great deal.
With Cyber’s attrition at last coming to a valley, the air clears, and both sides realize the relative sloth of the battlefield, elsewhere. Epimetheus finds he is keeping less and less of the mob at bay, sans the shield, and Barbara——recognizing she is wanted alive——now reverses their positions, to guard him from gunfire. The Titan holds his blade with his arms coming around the woman’s head.
“This isn’t going to work for us,” Barbara infers.
Diana picks her head out of stone. The world passes for her in slow-motion: Across the room but considerably closer to their allies, Iris is on two feet, and a hand. Their alliance's only hope lay in her.
The Amazon’s shifting makes Cyber come to, who groggily takes the lasso and fastens it to her adversary’s neck. Her windpipe closing off, Diana is able to command: “TO IRIS!”
Epimetheus answers by collecting Barbara at the waist and feinting away from the attackers, while the messenger goddess slides her staff to the very limit of her grasp in order that she crack one last impinging soldier in the jaw. Iris falters once in straightening her legs, but summons the spirit to make one long stride, then another, for the bounding Epimetheus. She readies the caduceus, knowing full-well that Diana means to be left behind. It is natural for them both. In the millennia she has had as an agent in this universe, Iris’s function remains to be at the beck and call of her own kind, carrying out orders she despises, whether or not it comes from one she might name as a friend. Iris obeys, as always, so that in her own way, she can love.
It is then that the barbed spear, tossed from behind the soldiers’ ranks, pierces clean through the goddess’ chest. She startlingly falls to her knees, and errantly, Epimetheus stops running, out of shock. In this time, his and Barbara’s pursuers have converged, cordoning them from their would-be rescuer. Barbara rips herself from Epimetheus’ arm, charging vainly at the Germans; she puts a gash in one’s cheek, using a geode she pocketed from her own collection, but is predictably subdued.
The spear is rooted in the floor, drenched in gold by the blood of Iris’ ancestry. She is conscious, and so very still even as her biology panics for air. Her back stays straight while she stares, and thinks. Diana has seen now too, and through Cyber’s torture, she yells. Tears come next; as bare a response as any creature can surrender to, it is a fearsome sight when worn by an Amazon.
Iris’ final moments in the mortal plane are spent with pragmatism and much-earned self-interest, evenly, because in understanding that the caduceus she holds cannot be lost to Diana’s enemies——not even for the race to bestow the apple——the Goddess of Rainbows finds a silver lining for her own.
“I’m going to be with my sister, Diana,” she rasps with relief.
Iris’ winged shoulder takes one more shot from a soldier’s cannon, but she completes her staff’s motion in time, drawing and puncturing a hole in their dimension underneath herself to fall into Tartarus: Forbidden to her by Olympus for countless dawns, and where Arke has been calling, for an eternity. The goddess is swallowed up, untraceable, and the quiet of death is resonant throughout the institute.
Shining, black boots cross over to the murderous spear, and a beautiful hand dislodges it: All of this, belonging to the Baroness von Gunther. She is known to Diana, enough that the princess expects the sickeningly-pleased smile she currently boasts.
Epimetheus’ hands are figuratively tied, with his surviving comrades being placed further in check by guards at every passing second. Cyber has tethered Diana into a cumbersome bow by stamping the lasso’s ends under a plated heel. Smugly, Von Gunther takes her place beside the mechanical woman; that is, slightly in front of her, and not by mistake. The two nemeses tower over a grounded Diana.
“In all our happy altercations, Wonder Woman, have I failed to tell you what this is?” Von Gunther asks innocently, waving the spearhead under Diana’s chin. “… My birthright. A weapon passed down from my ancestors, die Walküre.”
Like a seasoned thespian, she paces her gloating to conclude as does her brief walk to Barbara. She regards Epimetheus’ wear along the way, in condescension.
“By my blood and this tool, it is my burden to decide who lives and dies in battle. Over mortals… or the other, die Walküre have dominion.”
Von Gunther turns her nose up at Barbara’s glower, backsteps, and runs Epimetheus through with her spear.
He yelps like he’s stubbed a toe, which deflates Diana and Barbara’s exclamations before they even begin. Securely staked into the library’s tile and unable to budge the baroness’ hold, Epimetheus nevertheless shows no signs of true injury, instead looking all around himself in a fit speaking mostly to embarrassment. No ichor spills from his body. Von Gunther jerks the stave as though its penetration were in question.
“No god can—“ she sputters.
The Titan of Afterthought smirks weakly.
Cyber is disgusted at Von Gunther’s inadequacy, so much so that her leash on Diana slackens. “The other, then, if you so need another body. The Amazon will know more than she could.”
Barbara’s teeth gnash. She strains against three pairs of hands.
“Let her alone,” comes Diana’s guttural bargain, “and I will help you. Harm them and you will know only my fury.”
Having been enjoying their present relation, Doctor Cyber scoffs. “Oh Wonder Woman. We both know it takes far less than one dead mongrel for you to become a butcher. Or is that just it? You’ve found your ‘nobility’. That’s why the winged one can die before your eyes, unavenged.”
“Play with your food later, Cyber,” Von Gunther obliviously criticizes. She releases Epimetheus, but the gun in the small of Barbara’s back makes certain his passivity.
“Allow Dr. Minerva her affects, or whatever is left of them. The Panzer has notified us; we leave for Greece.”
Alhambra, March 2011
My car hasn't been cooperating lately. It's been giving me headaches and stress. On top of that, I haven't been sleeping enough too.
League of Heroes: Ascent
Episode 3: Darkest Before Dawn - Part 2
“We interrupt our continuing coverage of the New Brickton prison break, it seems that we are getting an unexpected live feed from the madness in Midtown.” The news anchor stuttered, nervously shuffling through the stack of papers on the news desk. “Frank, can you switch us over…”
Static… and then the picture suddenly changed from the busy news room to a devastated street. A blonde woman, statuesque and menacing stares into a shaky camera lens.
“Good morning citizens of New Brickton. From this day forward, it will be remembered that you sent forth your champions to face Celedon the Destroyer… and I have found them wanting. They lie here now in pathetic heaps, driven before me and broken at my feet. Is this really the best you have to offer? I demand a challenge worthy of my strength! For every hour that I am unsatisfied, I will raise another block of this insignificant city! Your only other option is complete surrender. Death or servitude, I give you the gift of choice mortals. Your first hour begins now.”
The broadcast suddenly cuts to a rainbow test pattern. Unseen by the camera, a winged figure descends to the devastated street. Upon touching down on the pavement, she kneels over the motionless form of the Indestructible Man.
“Wake up! Please!” She shakes Fred’s seemingly lifeless body, “Fred, I don‘t know what’s happened to us, but I do know that you are still alive and I know that we need to get you and your friends out of here.”
This was built for the League of Lego Heroes Group… www.flickr.com/groups/llh/
Obama takes to the podium with a smile.
With the whirlwind of 1.8 million people stretching as far as the eye can see.
The Obama-rama
the library project is a project creating a subtle dialogue about the issue of giving,lending and taking.as most of my pieces have a lifespan of a stutter in the street (either because of collectors or weather or the street cleaners), i thought i would try to embrace it and play around with the circumstances. before placing the pieces on the surface, i wrote(for the first edition, but later came up with alternate sentences) "i let you borrow my heart for a while,let others borrow it as well", and then placed the piece over the writing,covering it.
the pieces in this series are applied with double sided tape (which can be easily removed) with some unpeeled scraps of tape on the cardboard left for the borrower to replace anwhere.i think its great if someone wants to take it home, but it raises the conflict of the fact that its in the street for the art to be shared with the people using it.therfore, whoever dispatches the piece can replace it in it original location, or even better, a new location,making him/her part of the arts existence and making it even more part of the collective reality than it was before.
(best viewed large)
the library project is a project creating a subtle dialogue about the issue of giving,lending and taking.as most of my pieces have a lifespan of a stutter in the street (either because of collectors or weather or the street cleaners), i thought i would try to embrace it and play around with the circumstances. before placing the pieces on the surface, i wrote(for the first edition, but later came up with alternate sentences) "i let you borrow my heart for a while,let others borrow it as well", and then placed the piece over the writing,covering it.
the pieces in this series are applied with double sided tape (which can be easily removed) with some unpeeled scraps of tape on the cardboard left for the borrower to replace anwhere.i think its great if someone wants to take it home, but it raises the conflict of the fact that its in the street for the art to be shared with the people using it.therfore, whoever dispatches the piece can replace it in it original location, or even better, a new location,making him/her part of the arts existence and making it even more part of the collective reality than it was before.
(best viewed large)
For more information about this image and how it is made please visit the page for its set Did I Stutter?.
"The male’s breeding song is a jumble of clear notes mixed in with wheezes, trills, and stutters, lasting up to 10 seconds. Males incorporate snippets of the songs of many other species, including Ash-throated Flycatchers, Verdins, Curve-billed Thrashers, American Kestrels, Western Scrub-Jays, and many more." Allaboutbirds
I've burnt the blank page
until my stuttering stalls
and I've been talking to myself since the fall
I can hear strangers speak
from the door in the hall
and we both live on the other side of the wall
the men that I hear
they just want to make love
and the women, they make nothing at all
we don't speak face to face
because we're too into out of place
if my ears are ringing, then I'll heed the call
all my words are bound and backward
and all my tales are tall
I'm embarrassed that my syllables are small
only when I'm all surrounded
and surrendered to the silence
will the white noise leave me in a lull
I've burnt the blank page
until my stuttering stalls
and I've been talking to myself since the fall...
© Steve Skafte
I am not use to dictation so I have a tendency to occasionally stutter or speak a little faster then I mean to. If I was taking face to face I would definitely be doing a better job at speaking.
JIROE / ROIDS / AROE.
BRIGHTON KEEPS CREATING IT..
Although we love graffiti very very much we often approach painting with the tongue firmly in the cheek. you won't see too many gothic horror themes or similar moody subjects. For no good reason we thought it might be nice to paint the atari animated, visual stuttering mantronix sampled channel 4 tv anchor.
We'll up a proper picture tomorrow.
A Giant Barred Frog, Mixophyes iteratus, from the Watagans National Park, New South Wales, Australia.
This is a relatively endangered frog which prefers larger, slow-flowing, rivers and streams in rainforest.
The population of this species in the Watagans is near southern limit for the distribution of this species (which currently occurs south at least to the Colo River in New South Wales). Several years ago, in the Watagans, after the impact of chytrid fungus, the species was very rare in this area. Nowadays however it is very common and is found right throughout the rainforest and wet sclerophyll forest sections of the Watagans National Park.
Accomplishments/Success/Victories (Not in chronological order)
•*Many Hours Of Classroom Teaching benefiting many students
•Large Portfolio Of Design Projects
•*Many Pen And Ink Sketches And Collected And Exhibited In Art Galleries
•Learning To Free Hand Draw
•Learning To Draft Well
•*Designing and Building
•*Hanging Drapes In So Many Houses In New York City
•Overcoming Stuttering
•Knowing Ted and Rhoda Brown the Radio Announcer Team in New York and Assisting Decorating Their Homes in Harrison, Westchester New York.
•*Being Audio Video Monitor And Stage Director In Junior High
•*Marching In The Columbus Day Parade In The High School Band
•*Being Elected Class Bank Representative
•Learning How To Read
•Being Taught How To Tie My Shoe Laces By A Blind Girl
•Receiving A Set Of Electric Trains From My Father
•Collecting Phonograph Records To Play On Phonograph Bought For Me By My Father
•Winning the Best Design Job upon Graduation from Pratt Inst.
•Being Tall Enough To Discourage Bully From Attacking Me
•Being Accepted As A Student By Pratt Institute
•Being Accepted As A Student By Yale University
•Completing All Math And Structural Design Courses
•Driving A Car By Myself
•Riding A Bike, Skating, And Skiing
•Going To Europe For The First Time
•Entering Rome By Rail
•Moving To Holland Ave Away From Simpson Street To “Real House”
•Building And Using My First Interior Play House
•Designing And Building My First Stage
•Designing And Installing Wrought Iron In My Room
•*Seeing My Designs For Lobbies Being Built
•*My First House Design For Frank Houser
•*Seeing My First Big Design Projects Being Built For James Talcott And The Bank Of Israel
•*My First Radio Broadcast At Pratt Institute
•*My First And Last Theatre Performance As An Actor At Pratt
•My Beach Pavilion Design Model Being Exhibited At Pratt
•*Being Asked By Earth Day Producers To Manage Production Of Both Earth Day Events In New York City And Helping John Mc Connel Get U Thant’s Signature To Proclaim Earth Day As An International Holiday And Appearing As Spokesman For The Project On All Three Media Networks, Magazines, News Papers And Professional Journals.
•Learning How To Swim At The YMCA
•Being Really Goods Friends With Senior Professional, Writers, Such As Gerald Popiel, Paul Weiss, Yvonne Illich, Otto Hula, Ara Ignatius, Friederich Kiesler, Forrest Wilson, Max Waldman, And Vincent Scully
•Having Been Taught By Famous Professionals Such As Phillip Johnson, Louis Kahn, Charles Moore, Paul Rudolph, Peter Millard, Sibyl Maholy Nage, Henry (Hank) Pfisterer, Buckminister Fuller, Mies Van Der Rohe, James Polchek, And Gerald Luss,
•Having Worked For Edward Durrell Stone And Morris Lapidus
•Having Professional Affiliations with World Famous Architects Such As Phillip Johnson, Paul Rudolf, Charles Moore, Gordon Bunshaft, Gio Ponte, Palo Soleri, Victor Lundy, and Friederich Kiesler.
•*Having Designed Many Builddings On The Campus Of The State University Of New York (SUNY) In Albany
•*Designed Exhibitions For The Bigelow Carpet Company
•*Having Been Invited To Teach the Climatology and Bio Climatic Design Courses Created by Victor Olgay Immediately Following His Untimely Death.
•Understanding Of the Key Principles of Design, Planning, Programming for Cities, Buildings, Furniture, Fashion, Music, Etc.
•*Design And Build Shop In Condado, Puerto Rico
•*Complete Island Wide Plan Of Public Libraries Under Direct Contract To The Department Of Education Of Puerto Rico And Dr Rafael Corrada
•*Design and Complete Grace English Lutheran Church Restoration in Santurce Puerto Rico after the Death of Its Pastor and Our Dear Friend, Gerald Bergen.
•*Research Pollution And Environmental Innovations In Germany Published By Architectural Record As “Pollution Architecture”
•*Founding Laboratories for Metaphoric Environments, Designing and Complete Building of Loft on 318 East 68 Street. Living And Working In The Loft Including Writing Prospectus And Many Program Proposals.
•*Designing Tennessee Indigenous Housing and Public Buildings for Construction on English Mountain and Sugar Tree Tennessee. And Belize, Honduras.
•Apply Successfully A Job Search Campaign Method From A Book Discovered By Christina
•*Gulf Oil Corporation Employs Me to Author Its Pollicies and Procedures for Building, Non-Oil Production, Pollicies and Procedures. John Wiley And Sons Later Contracted With Me To Publish This As Book Called ”Project Manuel Standards” (PMS)
•*Manage All Aspects Of The Design Build Process To Design And Construct Gulf Oil Corporation Computer, Office, Laboratory And Chemical Site Support Facilities As Designated Owner’s Representative For Gulf’s Special Projects Covering Houston, Victoria, Midland, And Odessa.
•Become Deciples And Active Yoga Members Doing Exercises And Changing Diet
•Stop Smoking After Three Week Of Abstinence On Paradise Island In The Caribbean
•Invited To B E Junior Partner Of Long Established A&E Firm (SRG)In Puerto Rico
•Successfully negotiate to minimize changes to my company’s (SRG) Design and Systems for the El Mundo Office Tower in San Juan Puerto Rico
•For The First Time Speak Publicly at San Juan’s Toast Master Club, thanks to the encouragement of Herb Warfel.
•*For Serge Chermayeff, Complete Sketches Diagramming Thought For His Study Of Complementarities For Cities And Campus Planning
•For Frederick Kiesler, Complete Construction Of A Model Of A Temple In Israel
•*Be Invited By Charles More To Create And Carry Out Lecture Series Authored By Me Called: ”Architecture The Making Of Metaphors” With Speakers Such As Turan Onat, Christopher Tunnard, Vincent Scully, Forrest Wilson, William J Gordon, Kent Bloomer, Charles More, It Was A T This Series That Robert Venturi Aired His Famous Treatise On Las Vegas.
The Proceedings Were Transcribed for Publication in Perspecta and was partially published In Main Currents in Modern Thought.
•*Monographs on Metaphors Published in Lebanon, Turkey, England, Finland, Saudi Arabia, And USA.
•Ordained As Minister Of The Gospel; First By Gospel Crusade Under Gerald Dirstine And Then By The Assemblies Of God Locally By Pastor Dan Betzer.
•*In Saudi Arabia Design Factories, Schools And Offices And Write Standard Building Codes And Engineering Procedures For The Arabian American Oil Company; For The Presidency Of Youth Welfare Over See The Construction Of A Sports Park; For The Ministry Of The Interior, Eleven Hosing Projects, For A Private Operations And Maintenance Company And Another Conglomerate All Business Development And Marketing Of Construction; For A Private Consulting Company Critique Design competitions For Banks And Ministerial Projects; For A&E Company Design And Set Up Reference Library; And For King Faisel University Teach Architecture For Five Years.
•*Found ICI University And Plant Many Underground Church Groups, Which Is Still Today In Operation.
•*For The Frizzell Architectural Design Company In Fort Myers Manage The Construction Of Three twenty five million dollar High Schools
•*For An Interior Design Company In Fort Myers Design Houses, Lobbies, And Assist Set Up Library Of Architectural And Contemporary Furniture.
•*Teach Interior Design At Edison Community College
•*Examine Plans for Residential Building Permits for the Lee County Development Services.
•*Invited To Lecture and Teach Building Construction, Architecture and Interior Design at Parsons School Of Design, Pratt Institute, University Of Houston, Ohio University, And University Of Petroleum and Minerals. Appointed Associate Professor By Texas A&M University
•*FM Broadcasting Announcing And All Commercial, Station Break, Voice Over Work For WlAE; Fm 93.7 Hartford, Connecticut; Owned By Paul Di Savino (WPAT; Paterson). Hold Third Class Broad Cast License.
•NCARB and License to Practice Architecture Awarded in 1971 In New York after Completing NCARB Exam in Puerto Rico.
I tried to get the whirling prop blades of the Ford Trimotor to trigger my panorama arrow but this is the best I could do. It doesn't come close to Bill Smith's "PropJet" here. Maybe I wasn't close enough. I had an open cockpit window to work with!
www.flickr.com/photos/byzantiumbooks/29264377277/in/pool-...
DJ STV SLV (The Hood Internet): Luces y Mentiras
Joe: Stutter
Cheryl Cole: 3 Words (Feat. Will.I.Am)
Frou Frou: Let Go
Skee-Lo: I Wish
Corinne Bailey Rae: Paris Nights/New York Mornings
Lady GaGa: Love Game
Jay-Z: I Know (Feat. Pharrell Williams)
Justin Bieber: Baby
Taylor Swift: Fearless
Wiley: Never Be Your Woman (Feat. Emilie Sande)
Regina Spektor: Us
John Mayer: I Don't Trust Myself With Loving You (From WTLI)
Sade: Lovers Rock
Glee: Defying Gravity