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[Music] Emilie Autumn's Asylum, pt. 6 – High-concept musician responds to online criticism by waging successful attrition war against her own fanbase
2024.05.19 13:18 pillowcase-of-eels [Music] Emilie Autumn's Asylum, pt. 6 – High-concept musician responds to online criticism by waging successful attrition war against her own fanbase
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Welcome back to the Asylum write-up, where we explore the decade-long slow-motion car crash that is the Emilie Autumn fandom.
Sorry this installment took so long to upload! Just a heads-up, I may take some time to deliver the last one too – these posts take forever to format on Reddit's finicky-ass editor, and my dumb real life is currently keeping me from precious Internet time. Thank you for your patience! You have my word that everyone who pre-ordered the final installment will receive a PERSONAL, HANDWRITTEN letter autographed and illustrated by me, a list of the snacks I consumed while composing this write-up, some exclusive behind-the-scenes secrets, and a pony.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.1 – Part 4.2 Part 5
This created a sort of primordial rift within the fanbase, between those who supported EA's right to speak her mind and regulate her own fan spaces however she pleased – and those who thought that her reactions were rude and inappropriate (at best), and that even fan spaces should allow for reasonable, non-abusive criticism of the artist.
Between a poorly-handled book release (see Part 3), the controversial (Part 2) or dubiously true (Part 4) contents of said book, and serious shade from various former collaborators (Part 5), more and more fans had pressing thoughts about EA's work ethic and choices. EA attempted damage control through drastic forum rules that made it virtually impossible to voice any “serious” critical opinion. It didn't work, of course: instead of squashing the mutiny, she created a schism.
Critical fans and active haters started congregating on unofficial platforms.
Either way, through these blogs, a number of potential drama bombs that had mostly flown under the radar were dredged up from over the years – some of which were hard to ignore, even for supportive fans. Where to begin?
There was that nonsense in-joke song, captured twice on camera during the 2009 tour (to very little outrage, at the time), crassly called “Manatee Retard”📺. Or EA's scathing response, in print, to a wheelchair user who found it insensitive that she used a bedazzled wheelchair as a prop to do sexy acrobatics on stage. (“Your offence taken at my hard-won self-acceptance proves that I indeed have something to fight against”, she wrote). Spoken word tracks where she made trivializing knock-knock jokes about serious mental illnesses she didn't have, like schizophrenia and OCD. Multiple instances of calling Britney Spears a “bimbo” and a “Hollywood fucked-up”, resentfully claiming that she only shaved her head because she was “hopped up on drugs” and certainly not because she was “bipolar”, a word the press liked to wield as an insult anyway. (“That's almost like calling someone a retard!” Yeah, heaven forbid.) The meanest, most distasteful paragraphs in the book. Basically everything problematic EA had ever said or written.📝 In retrospect, it had been a long time coming, but it was a lot to take in – and certainly more off-putting, even to less emotionally invested fans, than silly lies about her age and last name.
In another wing of Asylum Tumblr, some fans had had it up to here and just wanted to have fun. 🎵 If Plague Rats had learned one valuable lesson from EA, it was how to crack a joke in the face of absurd tragedy – and the general state of the EA fandom certainly warranted a few.
In 2012, Fight Like a Girl was released. After six long years, three of which had been peaceful, the Opheliac era was officially over. The new album and ensuing tour confirmed that the Asylum had entered a process of glamorous Broadway-style militarization. 🎵📺
The mood board was “Roman general meets Vegas showgirl meets Victorian street urchin”.🪞 The color palette was, to naysayers, “musty pink and rotten, stale piss yellow”. 🐀 The keyword was “REVENGE” (through the power of... self-expression! sorority! brutal assault with rusty medical implements!). The chorus of the title song had an intriguing run-on line about getting “revenge on the world, or at least 49% of the people in it” 🎵 – which seemed like an awful lot, and was widely interpreted (to cheers, boos, or uncomfortable sighs) as a misandrist jab at literally all men on Earth.
The show was essentially a demo version of the musical, in that the setlist vaguely reflected the order of events in the story – but prior reading was essential in order to get what the hell was going on on stage. This one Broadway reviewer had not perused the literature before seeing the show 🔍, and hated: the set, the choreography, the skits, the plot, the lyrics, the music, the concept. (Seriously, you should read the review. It's not even my show and I feel like quitting show business.)
Pre-show VIP encounters, now violin-free, were lorded over by EA's new manager🐀, whose official title was “Asylum Headmistress”. (Interesting choice – she sounds fun!) The swag bags were less substantial than before, and the “greet” part of the meet-and-greet was rarely more than a quick hug and photo op.
On Twitter, EA continued to embrace her “I am very badass” fronting attitude...
Spurred on by EA's rallying cries and “us vs them” mentality, loyalists turned the white-knighting up to 11. On Twitter, some Plague Rats got into cat fights with Lady Gaga's Little Monsters (what a time to be alive). Others tried to balance out the Tumblr negativity with initiatives like “Spreading a Plague of Love” – a “positive-only” confession blog, whose extreme fangirling, comically drastic rules and hyper-defensive tone📝 did not debunk the increasingly popular notion that “true Plague Rats” were a bunch of authoritarian and hopelessly brainwashed fanatics.
EA truthers and other anti-fans started lashing out at anyone who dared express any positive opinion of EA, solidifying claims that the backlash against EA was just a conspiracy of bitter, hysterical bullies.
All this to say: every passing day brought new reasons for fans to get mad at EA and each other, and everyone in the Asylum was in need of a laugh. It's not easy having a good time.🦠
Leading up to Fight Like a Girl and in the years that followed, user-submission-based meme blogs took off, most notably “Spreading a Plague of Lulz / Troll Like a Girl”. A lot of the early submissions were absurdist humor and toothless, cheezburger-Impact memes (a style that was, oddly, already dated at the time). Those often originated in good fun, and from loyal fans, on the official forum. But there was also true snark, satirizing EA's questionable ethics, outrageous claims, and easily spoofed artistic gimmicks. A new slang of Asylumspeak emerged: Glittertits (slight NSFW), GAGA!!, EA Gusta and all its memeface variants, Get outta mah house!, Are You Suffering?, Fight Like A Goat, [Random celebrity] copied EA (a subgenre in its own right), ...
Most of the “trolling” was directed at unrepentant bootlickers and, to a lesser extent, red-in-the-face haters and creeps. Meme blogs would post joke comments under “serious” or gushing submissions on Wayward Victorian Confessions, and taunt loyalist accounts by tagging them in their posts. When a few people complained on WVC that almost all of the Bloody Crumpets to date had been thin white able-bodied women, and a few fans responded by sharing their dream-casts for a more diverse line-up, the blog was flooded for days with confessions that “X should be a Crumpet” (candidates included RuPaul, Mitt Romney, Nicki Minaj, EA's therapist, and the WVC admins). Farcical shenanigans like that.
Ah, but some people will always cross the line, won't they. EA threads popped up on merciless, bully-friendly snark platforms like Lolcow, Pretty Ugly Little Liar, and Encyclopedia Dramatica. Snarkers with a mean streak and obsessive haters mingled in some of the more aggressive, 4-chan-spirited retaliation against EA – which would be called “brigading” in modern parlance. This included flooding EA's Goodreads page with one-star reviews (see part 4), repeatedly editing her Wikipedia page to include her legal name and birth year, and ensuring that Googling said name would bring up current pictures of her.
All of this compounded agitation fragmented the once-united fandom beyond recognition.🦠 Through substantial disagreements among fans, personal bickerings, layers upon layers of inscrutable in-jokes, and cross-platform telephone games, the Asylum morphed into a booby-trapped Escher room.
Satire blogs were taken in earnest. Earnest fan blogs scanned as satire. Memes would get called out as abuse. Appreciation without attached criticism would get mocked as bootlicking. Obvious jokes made by EA would be taken at face value. One divisive confession could trigger days and days of debate, to the point that WVC eventually banned confessions in response to other confessions. New waves of infighting created a confusing web of rival sub-factions🐀, each accusing the others of being toxic, cliquish, and delusional.
The shared fantasy was broken, the collective vision had crumbled, no onez was speaking the same language anymore. Fans would jump down the throat of other fans who held almost identical views about EA, except for that one thing she said or did that one time. Everyone had differing thoughts on what should or shouldn't acceptable to discuss, question, excuse, make fun of.
War is hell.
That's not entirely fair: unlike EA, the czar only did it that once.
By early 2013, as EA was gearing up for her third Fight Like a Girl tour at the end of the year, the official forum was... not as lively as it once had been. Not just because of the stifling rules and disgruntlement towards EA, or because EA herself hadn't really posted anything on there in years; the Internet was also changing, and forums in general were fast becoming passé.
This made it difficult for EA to create a safe space where she could talk to fans, and fans could talk to and about her, in a way she deemed suitable (ie, a space she could gate-keep and regulate enough to keep it completely free from negative criticism). Social media was a minefield; she still posted regularly, but didn't interact very much. So EA and the Headmistress came up with a way to filter out the unbelievers: an official fan club📝, aptly called the “Asylum Army”, with a $100 entry price.
Joining the AA came with a dog tag, a sew-on patch, and a lifetime membership certificate signed by EA and – for some reason – the Headmistress. (Unlike EA's best friend and sound engineer back in the forum's heyday, I don't think fans ever really embraced the FLAG-era manager as part of the Asylum in-group. She came across more as a coordinator / businessperson / adult chaperone, at best.🐀) So, slightly better goodies than you'd get by joining the other AA 🔍 ... but not by much. The main appeal was that members would have access to exclusive content, special merch, giveaways, early bird tickets for future shows, and regular video chats with EA.
The concept itself drew a fair amount of criticism, as you can imagine. Between the name🐀, the price, and the inherent gatekeeping of a pay-to-join fanclub, many balked at the monetizing of a concept that had once (like, three years back) been significantly more DIY, grassroots, and inclusive. 📝🐀
Then again, many also longed for a positive, drama-free space where fans could just be fans. And while the creation of the AA was generally recognized as a quick cashgrab, a lot of people were surprisingly cool with it. EA was trying to finance her dream musical, after all – although a number of fans wished she had gone about raising funds in a less sketchy way.
So around 400 fans shelled out (which, according to the Headmistress📝, “basically cover[ed] the cost of running the fanclub itself – keeping the database up, website, etc.”). Enough for a close-knit, but sizable community. But already, there was a conflict of interest: a high fanclub entry fee essentially demands that you pledge loyalty to the artist over loyalty to your fellow fans, who wish to join but can't afford to. Sharing, caring, and ensuring no one felt left out were some of the more positive values cultivated in the fandom... but leaking exclusive content would surely piss off other paying members🐀, and make EA feel betrayed all over again. (And she had barely just started to mellow out on social media!)
...But then again, this is the internet. After the first month of secret AA drops (lyric sheets, some photoshoot outtakes – nothing too juicy, really), there were, yes, some leaks. EA was predictably miffed, and retaliated by... ghosting the fanclub for weeks at a time in its first few months of existence (great look!). She eventually found the “solution” to her problem, by providing something you couldn't right-click-save (and which had been part of the promised perks to begin with): live interaction.
Over webcam, she was her usual in-person bubbly, charming, funny self. Everyone seemingly had a good time during the fanclub video chat, and this gave people faith and hope.
There were a few more events, giveaways, etc. As promised, ahead of the fall 2013 tour (the last one to date, it would turn out), AA members got priority access to show tickets and VIP bundles. The latter were much pricier than before, and only included soundcheck, a photo-op, and three goodies: a tin of loose-leaf tea, a signed printer-paper setlist, and a small flag that said “F.L.A.G.”.🔍 Some stuff continued to leak – but, as some of the outlaws pointed out (scroll down to the Disqus comments), they were mostly relaying information that was relevant to the entire fanbase, such as updates about ongoing projects (the dragged-out recording of the audiobook, for one).
In early 2014, lifetime memberships were closed, and replaced with monthly, quarterly and yearly subscription tiers. Bizarrely, you ended up paying $3 more per month if you bought a $99 yearly subscription📝 – but it did include the patch, dog tag, and piece of paper!
For the still-too-poor or still-undecided, there was always the forum! It wasn't as active as it used to be, but a few die-hards still managed to keep the lights on... until, inevitably, Someone Did Something and Ruined Everything. (Once again: EA's wrath is spectacular, but rarely completely unprovoked.) The incident features one notable figure in the Asylum community. Let's call him the Collector.
OK, so maybe you remember the meme I linked to in Part 4, with Christian Grey and the ginormous EA hoard. Well, that's the Collector's collection. The “Violin” promo that I called the "Holy Grail of the fandom" in the same paragraph? Also his. The handwritten lyrics that went for $940? Guess who won that auction. Over the years, the Collector had probably spent five figures on EA merch and shows, and although that fact was a little unsettling, he was a very active, easy-going, and generally well-liked fixture of the fandom.
One day in 2012, shortly after the Headmistress had replaced EA's old Chicago BFF as main forum admin, the Collector's account got banned or restricted over something dumb. When the ban wasn't lifted as quickly as he hoped, he took it... the way one takes things when one is unhealthily invested: he started spamming Headmistress and the mod team with increasingly rambling and abusive emails (lost to time, probably for the best). When that didn't work quickly enough, he tried a different route.
One of the many auctions that the Collector had won, some years prior, was EA's old iPod Touch📝 – which contained all of her favorite tunes and, buried somewhere in the data cache... a phone number. Which the Collector tried calling. And wouldn't you know it: EA picked up. She congratulated him on his sleuthing skills, listened patiently as he made his case, apologized for any distress caused by the unfair account restriction, and then they got married.
Kidding! She freaked the fuck out, hung up, and banned him for life from the forum and all EA shows and events.
After his ban, the Collector allegedly still tried to attend at least one VIP pre-show (one source in the comments says he was allowed to buy some merch, refunded for his ticket, and escorted out). He joined the Reform forum to bitch about EA and try to rally people to his cause, possibly made revenge posts about her on darker snark forums, and continued to hound the Asylum mod team. So in June 2014, EA came up with a radical and unexpected fix to the Collector problem.
The obliteration of the forum took everyone by surprise...
...Well, no point in living in the past. For those who could afford it, and still wanted to talk to/about EA after that (not everyone did 🐀), there was always the Asylum Army fanclub!
Over the summer of 2014, EA held regular live chats and Q&A's, and... many attendees really enjoyed them, and thought the AA was well worth the money after all. She also quietly parted ways with the much poo-pooed Headmistress around that time.
Turns out the fanclub had been the Headmistress' idea all along. EA had been reluctant from the start, and although she really enjoyed the live chats with a safe community of people “who are there for the right reasons”, she couldn't overcome her fundamental discomfort with the concept. Lifetime and regular members would receive a bunch of digital downloads and a -35% coupon on the Asylum Emporium for their troubles. EA said she would definitely pop back once in a while for live chats, for free, just for fun, but to my knowledge, she never did.
And so the most devoted fans were left standing in the rain...
But there were no chats or live shows anymore. There was only social media, where she ignored questions and vague-posted about overdue projects – and the newsletter📝, which was all saccharine love-bombing to promote bland dropshipped trinkets. For fans who remembered the handcrafted merch (and two-way communication) of the early years, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
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Welcome back to the Asylum write-up, where we explore the decade-long slow-motion car crash that is the Emilie Autumn fandom.
Sorry this installment took so long to upload! Just a heads-up, I may take some time to deliver the last one too – these posts take forever to format on Reddit's finicky-ass editor, and my dumb real life is currently keeping me from precious Internet time. Thank you for your patience! You have my word that everyone who pre-ordered the final installment will receive a PERSONAL, HANDWRITTEN letter autographed and illustrated by me, a list of the snacks I consumed while composing this write-up, some exclusive behind-the-scenes secrets, and a pony.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.1 – Part 4.2 Part 5
Places, everyone This is a test Throw your stones Do your damage Your worst, and your best (...) And if I had a dollar For every time I repented the sin And commit the same crime I'd be sitting on top of the world today (“God Help Me”, 2006🎵)Quick recap of where we left off. First, there were five to ten halcyon years of pleasant and meaningful interactions between EA and her blossoming fanbase, prominently by way of her official forum. Then, circa 2009-2010, EA's online presence shifted towards sudden anger outbursts, ban-hammering, and an increasingly top-down communication style.
This created a sort of primordial rift within the fanbase, between those who supported EA's right to speak her mind and regulate her own fan spaces however she pleased – and those who thought that her reactions were rude and inappropriate (at best), and that even fan spaces should allow for reasonable, non-abusive criticism of the artist.
Between a poorly-handled book release (see Part 3), the controversial (Part 2) or dubiously true (Part 4) contents of said book, and serious shade from various former collaborators (Part 5), more and more fans had pressing thoughts about EA's work ethic and choices. EA attempted damage control through drastic forum rules that made it virtually impossible to voice any “serious” critical opinion. It didn't work, of course: instead of squashing the mutiny, she created a schism.
Critical fans and active haters started congregating on unofficial platforms.
“WITH MUFFINS LIKE THIS, WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?”: TROLL LIKE A GIRL
So here we were, the early 2010s. The official forum (which had about 700 members in 2006, if you recall) was now thousands-strong, reaching just over 12,000 registered users in 2012 – not all of them active, but still. In terms of sheer numbers and content creation, the party was POPPIN'... but increasingly in parts of the Asylum that escaped EA's jurisdiction, such as Tumblr, where they could speak their mind freely.You play the victim very well You've built your self-indulgent hell You wanted someone to understand you Well, be careful what you wish for, because I do (“I Know Where You Sleep”, 2006🎵)In one wing of Asylum Tumblr, a smattering of call-out blogs emerged, which laid out EA's various lies, faux pas, shitty takes, and general deep-seated terribleness in detailed timelines and screenshots (or, short of that, long-winded bullet points). While many such blogs framed it as “serious” whistleblowing and did their best to remain as fact-based and neutral as they could, there was some genuine disgust, animosity and creepiness towards EA on that side of Tumblr; for some ex-fans, “exposing the truth” was mostly justify obsessive hatred, prying and verbal abuse. Some, for instance, felt the bizarre need to side with EA's mother in their estrangement. (One user, with the URL “emilyautumnfischkopf”, argued in a serious and down-to-earth tone - but with zero sources - that EA's upbringing had been nothing but peaceful and supportive until she ungratefully kicked her loving family to the curb for no reason at all. They were later revealed 🔍 to have an alternate handle as “eaisalyingcunt”.)
Either way, through these blogs, a number of potential drama bombs that had mostly flown under the radar were dredged up from over the years – some of which were hard to ignore, even for supportive fans. Where to begin?
There was that nonsense in-joke song, captured twice on camera during the 2009 tour (to very little outrage, at the time), crassly called “Manatee Retard”📺. Or EA's scathing response, in print, to a wheelchair user who found it insensitive that she used a bedazzled wheelchair as a prop to do sexy acrobatics on stage. (“Your offence taken at my hard-won self-acceptance proves that I indeed have something to fight against”, she wrote). Spoken word tracks where she made trivializing knock-knock jokes about serious mental illnesses she didn't have, like schizophrenia and OCD. Multiple instances of calling Britney Spears a “bimbo” and a “Hollywood fucked-up”, resentfully claiming that she only shaved her head because she was “hopped up on drugs” and certainly not because she was “bipolar”, a word the press liked to wield as an insult anyway. (“That's almost like calling someone a retard!” Yeah, heaven forbid.) The meanest, most distasteful paragraphs in the book. Basically everything problematic EA had ever said or written.📝 In retrospect, it had been a long time coming, but it was a lot to take in – and certainly more off-putting, even to less emotionally invested fans, than silly lies about her age and last name.
In another wing of Asylum Tumblr, some fans had had it up to here and just wanted to have fun. 🎵 If Plague Rats had learned one valuable lesson from EA, it was how to crack a joke in the face of absurd tragedy – and the general state of the EA fandom certainly warranted a few.
In 2012, Fight Like a Girl was released. After six long years, three of which had been peaceful, the Opheliac era was officially over. The new album and ensuing tour confirmed that the Asylum had entered a process of glamorous Broadway-style militarization. 🎵📺
The mood board was “Roman general meets Vegas showgirl meets Victorian street urchin”.🪞 The color palette was, to naysayers, “musty pink and rotten, stale piss yellow”. 🐀 The keyword was “REVENGE” (through the power of... self-expression! sorority! brutal assault with rusty medical implements!). The chorus of the title song had an intriguing run-on line about getting “revenge on the world, or at least 49% of the people in it” 🎵 – which seemed like an awful lot, and was widely interpreted (to cheers, boos, or uncomfortable sighs) as a misandrist jab at literally all men on Earth.
The show was essentially a demo version of the musical, in that the setlist vaguely reflected the order of events in the story – but prior reading was essential in order to get what the hell was going on on stage. This one Broadway reviewer had not perused the literature before seeing the show 🔍, and hated: the set, the choreography, the skits, the plot, the lyrics, the music, the concept. (Seriously, you should read the review. It's not even my show and I feel like quitting show business.)
Pre-show VIP encounters, now violin-free, were lorded over by EA's new manager🐀, whose official title was “Asylum Headmistress”. (Interesting choice – she sounds fun!) The swag bags were less substantial than before, and the “greet” part of the meet-and-greet was rarely more than a quick hug and photo op.
On Twitter, EA continued to embrace her “I am very badass” fronting attitude...
Often wonder if cyberbullies r aware they’re fucking w/ a girl who’s BFs w/ maker of the SAW films & is marrying a knife-throwing scorpion. (🐀📝)...and her taste for needlessly inflammatory statements. About an aisle sign in a supermarket:
If this does not infuriate you, then you're a fucking potato.(Again with the confounding crypto-ableism, EA! 🔍) She also went through a phase of raging against Lady Gaga 📝, who had stolen her idea of using a wheelchair on stage as an able-bodied woman. 🔍 That failed to convince anyone that she wasn't the histrionic diva that haters made her out to be.
Spurred on by EA's rallying cries and “us vs them” mentality, loyalists turned the white-knighting up to 11. On Twitter, some Plague Rats got into cat fights with Lady Gaga's Little Monsters (what a time to be alive). Others tried to balance out the Tumblr negativity with initiatives like “Spreading a Plague of Love” – a “positive-only” confession blog, whose extreme fangirling, comically drastic rules and hyper-defensive tone📝 did not debunk the increasingly popular notion that “true Plague Rats” were a bunch of authoritarian and hopelessly brainwashed fanatics.
EA truthers and other anti-fans started lashing out at anyone who dared express any positive opinion of EA, solidifying claims that the backlash against EA was just a conspiracy of bitter, hysterical bullies.
All this to say: every passing day brought new reasons for fans to get mad at EA and each other, and everyone in the Asylum was in need of a laugh. It's not easy having a good time.🦠
Leading up to Fight Like a Girl and in the years that followed, user-submission-based meme blogs took off, most notably “Spreading a Plague of Lulz / Troll Like a Girl”. A lot of the early submissions were absurdist humor and toothless, cheezburger-Impact memes (a style that was, oddly, already dated at the time). Those often originated in good fun, and from loyal fans, on the official forum. But there was also true snark, satirizing EA's questionable ethics, outrageous claims, and easily spoofed artistic gimmicks. A new slang of Asylumspeak emerged: Glittertits (slight NSFW), GAGA!!, EA Gusta and all its memeface variants, Get outta mah house!, Are You Suffering?, Fight Like A Goat, [Random celebrity] copied EA (a subgenre in its own right), ...
Most of the “trolling” was directed at unrepentant bootlickers and, to a lesser extent, red-in-the-face haters and creeps. Meme blogs would post joke comments under “serious” or gushing submissions on Wayward Victorian Confessions, and taunt loyalist accounts by tagging them in their posts. When a few people complained on WVC that almost all of the Bloody Crumpets to date had been thin white able-bodied women, and a few fans responded by sharing their dream-casts for a more diverse line-up, the blog was flooded for days with confessions that “X should be a Crumpet” (candidates included RuPaul, Mitt Romney, Nicki Minaj, EA's therapist, and the WVC admins). Farcical shenanigans like that.
Ah, but some people will always cross the line, won't they. EA threads popped up on merciless, bully-friendly snark platforms like Lolcow, Pretty Ugly Little Liar, and Encyclopedia Dramatica. Snarkers with a mean streak and obsessive haters mingled in some of the more aggressive, 4-chan-spirited retaliation against EA – which would be called “brigading” in modern parlance. This included flooding EA's Goodreads page with one-star reviews (see part 4), repeatedly editing her Wikipedia page to include her legal name and birth year, and ensuring that Googling said name would bring up current pictures of her.
All of this compounded agitation fragmented the once-united fandom beyond recognition.🦠 Through substantial disagreements among fans, personal bickerings, layers upon layers of inscrutable in-jokes, and cross-platform telephone games, the Asylum morphed into a booby-trapped Escher room.
Satire blogs were taken in earnest. Earnest fan blogs scanned as satire. Memes would get called out as abuse. Appreciation without attached criticism would get mocked as bootlicking. Obvious jokes made by EA would be taken at face value. One divisive confession could trigger days and days of debate, to the point that WVC eventually banned confessions in response to other confessions. New waves of infighting created a confusing web of rival sub-factions🐀, each accusing the others of being toxic, cliquish, and delusional.
The shared fantasy was broken, the collective vision had crumbled, no onez was speaking the same language anymore. Fans would jump down the throat of other fans who held almost identical views about EA, except for that one thing she said or did that one time. Everyone had differing thoughts on what should or shouldn't acceptable to discuss, question, excuse, make fun of.
War is hell.
SCORCHED EARTH SHENANIGANS: HONEY, I SHRUNK THE ASYLUM
Would you tear my castle down Stone by stone And let the wind run through my windows Till there was nothing left But a battered rose? (“Castle Down”, 2003🎵)Haters vs sycophants is not really the kind of conflict where one side can come out on top (if you're participating, you've already lost). But in the long tug-of-war between “grassroots” and “EA-sponsored” fan spaces, the ultimate winner is obvious – in that the former is gasping in agony, a shriveled husk of its former glory, while the latter... is non-existent. This is due in no small part to EA's tendency, like the Czars of old, to settle conflicts by setting Moscow on fire.🔍)
That's not entirely fair: unlike EA, the czar only did it that once.
By early 2013, as EA was gearing up for her third Fight Like a Girl tour at the end of the year, the official forum was... not as lively as it once had been. Not just because of the stifling rules and disgruntlement towards EA, or because EA herself hadn't really posted anything on there in years; the Internet was also changing, and forums in general were fast becoming passé.
This made it difficult for EA to create a safe space where she could talk to fans, and fans could talk to and about her, in a way she deemed suitable (ie, a space she could gate-keep and regulate enough to keep it completely free from negative criticism). Social media was a minefield; she still posted regularly, but didn't interact very much. So EA and the Headmistress came up with a way to filter out the unbelievers: an official fan club📝, aptly called the “Asylum Army”, with a $100 entry price.
Joining the AA came with a dog tag, a sew-on patch, and a lifetime membership certificate signed by EA and – for some reason – the Headmistress. (Unlike EA's best friend and sound engineer back in the forum's heyday, I don't think fans ever really embraced the FLAG-era manager as part of the Asylum in-group. She came across more as a coordinator / businessperson / adult chaperone, at best.🐀) So, slightly better goodies than you'd get by joining the other AA 🔍 ... but not by much. The main appeal was that members would have access to exclusive content, special merch, giveaways, early bird tickets for future shows, and regular video chats with EA.
The concept itself drew a fair amount of criticism, as you can imagine. Between the name🐀, the price, and the inherent gatekeeping of a pay-to-join fanclub, many balked at the monetizing of a concept that had once (like, three years back) been significantly more DIY, grassroots, and inclusive. 📝🐀
Then again, many also longed for a positive, drama-free space where fans could just be fans. And while the creation of the AA was generally recognized as a quick cashgrab, a lot of people were surprisingly cool with it. EA was trying to finance her dream musical, after all – although a number of fans wished she had gone about raising funds in a less sketchy way.
So around 400 fans shelled out (which, according to the Headmistress📝, “basically cover[ed] the cost of running the fanclub itself – keeping the database up, website, etc.”). Enough for a close-knit, but sizable community. But already, there was a conflict of interest: a high fanclub entry fee essentially demands that you pledge loyalty to the artist over loyalty to your fellow fans, who wish to join but can't afford to. Sharing, caring, and ensuring no one felt left out were some of the more positive values cultivated in the fandom... but leaking exclusive content would surely piss off other paying members🐀, and make EA feel betrayed all over again. (And she had barely just started to mellow out on social media!)
...But then again, this is the internet. After the first month of secret AA drops (lyric sheets, some photoshoot outtakes – nothing too juicy, really), there were, yes, some leaks. EA was predictably miffed, and retaliated by... ghosting the fanclub for weeks at a time in its first few months of existence (great look!). She eventually found the “solution” to her problem, by providing something you couldn't right-click-save (and which had been part of the promised perks to begin with): live interaction.
Over webcam, she was her usual in-person bubbly, charming, funny self. Everyone seemingly had a good time during the fanclub video chat, and this gave people faith and hope.
There were a few more events, giveaways, etc. As promised, ahead of the fall 2013 tour (the last one to date, it would turn out), AA members got priority access to show tickets and VIP bundles. The latter were much pricier than before, and only included soundcheck, a photo-op, and three goodies: a tin of loose-leaf tea, a signed printer-paper setlist, and a small flag that said “F.L.A.G.”.🔍 Some stuff continued to leak – but, as some of the outlaws pointed out (scroll down to the Disqus comments), they were mostly relaying information that was relevant to the entire fanbase, such as updates about ongoing projects (the dragged-out recording of the audiobook, for one).
In early 2014, lifetime memberships were closed, and replaced with monthly, quarterly and yearly subscription tiers. Bizarrely, you ended up paying $3 more per month if you bought a $99 yearly subscription📝 – but it did include the patch, dog tag, and piece of paper!
Sometimes I kind of want to be part of the cool kids and register to the Asylum Army. Then I remember how it came about, what you could get for the same price a couple years ago, how the whole thing was and is handled, and that I won’t support any of this bullshit. (And then I roll around naked in all the money I’m saving.) (🐀)Still, a number of fans rejoiced at the affordable monthly option, and joined – if not for the exclusive content and merch (which were... okay, but not much to write home about), then for the friendly, drama-free exchanges with an artist they actually did love, in spite of all the frustration.
For the still-too-poor or still-undecided, there was always the forum! It wasn't as active as it used to be, but a few die-hards still managed to keep the lights on... until, inevitably, Someone Did Something and Ruined Everything. (Once again: EA's wrath is spectacular, but rarely completely unprovoked.) The incident features one notable figure in the Asylum community. Let's call him the Collector.
OK, so maybe you remember the meme I linked to in Part 4, with Christian Grey and the ginormous EA hoard. Well, that's the Collector's collection. The “Violin” promo that I called the "Holy Grail of the fandom" in the same paragraph? Also his. The handwritten lyrics that went for $940? Guess who won that auction. Over the years, the Collector had probably spent five figures on EA merch and shows, and although that fact was a little unsettling, he was a very active, easy-going, and generally well-liked fixture of the fandom.
One day in 2012, shortly after the Headmistress had replaced EA's old Chicago BFF as main forum admin, the Collector's account got banned or restricted over something dumb. When the ban wasn't lifted as quickly as he hoped, he took it... the way one takes things when one is unhealthily invested: he started spamming Headmistress and the mod team with increasingly rambling and abusive emails (lost to time, probably for the best). When that didn't work quickly enough, he tried a different route.
One of the many auctions that the Collector had won, some years prior, was EA's old iPod Touch📝 – which contained all of her favorite tunes and, buried somewhere in the data cache... a phone number. Which the Collector tried calling. And wouldn't you know it: EA picked up. She congratulated him on his sleuthing skills, listened patiently as he made his case, apologized for any distress caused by the unfair account restriction, and then they got married.
Kidding! She freaked the fuck out, hung up, and banned him for life from the forum and all EA shows and events.
After his ban, the Collector allegedly still tried to attend at least one VIP pre-show (one source in the comments says he was allowed to buy some merch, refunded for his ticket, and escorted out). He joined the Reform forum to bitch about EA and try to rally people to his cause, possibly made revenge posts about her on darker snark forums, and continued to hound the Asylum mod team. So in June 2014, EA came up with a radical and unexpected fix to the Collector problem.
The official Asylum Fan Forum has been shut down permanently. I have personally paid thousands of dollars each year to keep the forum safe and secure for you ... Unfortunately, the forum has not been kept safe and secure for me, a truth which disappoints me greatly, instead becoming a place where people who have physically threatened myself and my staff prey upon forum members, pressuring them to contact me and my staff on their behalf. If the gullible wish to humor my stalkers (who live in their parent’s basement at age 30 something) and thus put me in danger, they may do it on their own dime. They may also fuck off, because stupidity can kill, and I won’t be your victim. To those who enjoyed the forum, you know who to thank for its closure. (“On the closing of the Asylum Forum”)Voilà! This is how a decade-long archive of shared history ends: not with a bang, but with a dirty delete and a sod-off communiqué.
The obliteration of the forum took everyone by surprise...
I was actually on the forum when it was taken down. I was navigating between posts and when I went to click on a different board, an error message came up. I honestly cried a little, I'm not ashamed to say. (WVC admin on Reddit, 2024)...and I do mean everyone:
Chicago BFF / ex-admin, the next morning: Whoa, EA forum shut down? Ex-mod: It turns out that if someone spends enough years actively “waging war” to destroy what they can’t have, eventually they’ll be successful. * eye roll * Not even mods got prior warning. Just all the sudden, poof, gone. BFF: Really? She did not let the moderators know?! This is sounding worse and worse. Uggh. I’m so sorry. Such a loss. (...) Ok, threats are serious, but why not just put it in archive mode so no one can post? (...) Sad. I shall light a candle in the forum's honor. (Facebook posts; scroll down for screenshots)It was a gut punch, especially for people who had poured countless hours into the community, or could have used some prior warning to save years of their own writing from the role-playing threads. One last chance to take a look around the place that had meant so much to so many.
From the wording of the announcement of closing the forum and a number of other things, it sometimes seems like EA doesn't like her fans much. :/ (🐀)Three months after the forum was nuked, Battered Rose (a venerable EA fansite, which had been around since the Enchant era and had one of the most complete EA galleries online) announced that it was shutting down too.📝 The admin, who had also been a long-time forum mod, cited a lack of “time, energy, passion, or money” to keep the website going... and being upset at the sudden disappearance of the forum. It was, truly, the end of an era for the Asylum.
...Well, no point in living in the past. For those who could afford it, and still wanted to talk to/about EA after that (not everyone did 🐀), there was always the Asylum Army fanclub!
Over the summer of 2014, EA held regular live chats and Q&A's, and... many attendees really enjoyed them, and thought the AA was well worth the money after all. She also quietly parted ways with the much poo-pooed Headmistress around that time.
Just spent over 4 hours giggling, drinking tea and playing guessing games in chat with EA and other Asylum Army members ... No griping, no downers, just lots of fun. I think I like the way the ‘new fandom’ is going and now I’m really glad I finally decided to join the Army. (September 4, 2014🐀; Battered Rose had closed the day before)The forum was lost forever, but perhaps that was a chance for a fresh start. Could this fanclub thing really be the Asylum Renaissance that fans had been longing for?
...I have come today to a very difficult but necessary decision, and that is to discontinue the Emilie Autumn Official Fanclub. The site itself, and the community chatroom, will remain open to you indefinitely, but I will no longer be making updates to the site. (Newsletter, September 8, 2014📝)...Never mind, then.
Turns out the fanclub had been the Headmistress' idea all along. EA had been reluctant from the start, and although she really enjoyed the live chats with a safe community of people “who are there for the right reasons”, she couldn't overcome her fundamental discomfort with the concept. Lifetime and regular members would receive a bunch of digital downloads and a -35% coupon on the Asylum Emporium for their troubles. EA said she would definitely pop back once in a while for live chats, for free, just for fun, but to my knowledge, she never did.
And so the most devoted fans were left standing in the rain...
She is happy, she made it. She is fulfilling her dreams, found love and happiness after all the pain. I understand that she now doesn’t need “us” anymore ... That doesn’t change the fact she broke my heart with taking the Asylum Army and the forum from me. Yet, I am happy for her. (🐀)...while naysayers pointed and laughed, Nelson-style.🦠
I don’t feel sorry at all for the people that paid for the Asylum Army fan club. Most of them knew that EA is an atrocious business woman and has broken many promises before. In fact, I laugh at them. They seriously thought that EA would actually stay consistent with this? (🐀)
EVERYTHING MUST GO: THE ASYLUM WHOLESALE
EA fans were left without an “official” home for about three years. This gave them plenty of time to be annoyed at EA for: not releasing the audiobook on time, not materializing any new project for a while... and the new sin of peddling random, ridiculously marked-up AliBaba jewelry as “merch” on her official store. Think faux-antique cameo pendants and $30 Big Ben rings (...because the Asylum story is set in London, get it?).The whole accessories section looks like a tacky overpriced English souvenir shop. (🐀)The fanbase lost a lost of steam in those in-between years, because there wasn't much to stick around for. As evidenced by the positive reception of the AA live chats, even in the midst of unresolved drama, out-loud interactions in a friendly environment have always been EA's saving grace. Considering the amount of online hate, there are shockingly few accounts of bad IRL encounters with EA: most people say that in live conversation, she comes across as a fun, warm, and genuinely sweet person. Some report that their negative opinion shifted after meeting her.
But there were no chats or live shows anymore. There was only social media, where she ignored questions and vague-posted about overdue projects – and the newsletter📝, which was all saccharine love-bombing to promote bland dropshipped trinkets. For fans who remembered the handcrafted merch (and two-way communication) of the early years, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
CONTINUED IN COMMENTS
2024.05.18 19:24 itsgreymonster Unfunhouse Mirror 12 (Nature of Predators/The Last Angel)
This is a crossover fanfiction between original fiction titles: Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 and The Last Angel by Proximal Flame respectively. All credit and rights reserved goes to them for making such amazing science fiction settings that I wanted to put this together.Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
You can read The Last Angel here: Be warned, it's decently long, and at its third installment so far. I highly suggest reading it before reading this, or this story will not make sense.
First Prev Next (soon)
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
I walked through the expansive halls of the UECNS Nemesis, a sense of awe at what I was seeing. While I was not alone, since plenty of the Venlil were still inside, making last minute checkups on the cargo freighter attaché, it was amazing to think that I was the first human to stand in this vessel in over twelve-hundred years. The layout of everything seemed built to our specifications, and it felt like uncovering something that shouldn't exist. But exist it did.
I wonder if Red One thought the same about another humanity in the multiverse?
Nevertheless, despite the initial hiccups with some utterly terrified Venlil engineers offending the hell out of Red One for some slight, nothing had gone wrong with the rest. Clearly, being here long enough had pushed the sense of fear out of most of the Venlil, enough to do their work without feeling overwhelmed whenever her 'scarabs' came in.
Speaking of such...
There was one right now, just climbing up a wall at about my head level to work on some exposed piece of machinery. While it looked very busy, and likely didn't need to be interrupted, I still had the unbridled urge to touch it. It wouldn't harm it, right?
Why did I want to touch it?! Curiosity?
I walked over to it, my hand halting a foot or so from it for a moment, but I eventually mustered up the courage to touch it. It...it was lukewarm to the touch, smooth, metal....
...and clearly not meant to be touched.
It immediately erupted in a loud alarm, vibrating as if trying to shake off my hand. I pulled away in alarm, thinking best to not...uh...aggravate it? Were these directly controlled by Red, or automated?
"Care to tell me why exactly you're touching my repair drones?" Her voice came from the walls with a vaguely bewildered tone.
Shit. Uh...
I tried to deflect, but nothing came to mind. "Well, uh...um...I just...uh...kindawantedtotouchit."
Silence greeted my response. "But-but I just thought it looked cute! And I-oh, I am not making a good case here, I'm so sorry if I damaged-"
"Are you telling me you want to pet it?" She sounded amused at my intent. You!....hmmmmph.
"...Yes. I had an urge to pet the thing. I mean look at it! It's like a big ladybug! It's oddly cute."
Red One hummed for a split second over the wall speakers to me. "Despite your urge being harmless and funny, the drone is busy at the moment, so please leave it alone. I'll just give you one if you're so inclined later, with less of the lethal tools attached."
"Wait, the what?"
"Forget that, Hailey. I wish to ask you something more serious currently..." The tone of the room changed immensely between those two sentences, a lighthearted feeling prior clearly making way for something worrying her. "Will...humanity accept me? I've killed so many, even if it was an accident. I've frightened both you and your allies merely by existing. And on top of this, I know that humanity has always had a general feeling of unease about artificial life. Your media, your literature, philosophy, are all in the distant past compared to when I was made, and I've no clue how exactly different our histories are enough to guess. The United Nations never lasted this long in my reality." A pause took to the room.
"Do I deserve to shut myself down?"
Oh dear, that's a hard question to answer.
I thought for a solid second. I know the reception to reveal Nemesis was mixed back on Earth. While there was a near-unanimous thanks for saving Earth with her intervention, there were still the ships and crews of both the Venlil and humanity that she destroyed. Those families were not taking their loss well. Added onto that, Red One was an artificial intelligence. There has been a ton of discussion even in the deep past about the dangers of AI, that continued even to this day. While Red One was no paperclip-maximizer, she was designed and built for war, and tempered by over 1200 years of it. She might not even intentionally mean to be dangerous, but might interpret things badly.
After all, she already has, and now nine thousand humans are dead for it...Could I trust her to not do it again?
"I...I don't know Red. I sincerely hope they'll see the good in your actions, and should you talk about your mistake, perhaps you'll be at the minimum sympathetically understood, if not forgiven."
Red One had no body besides the ship to speak of. She had no unintentional body language interpretable to humans. She was, for all intent and purposes, unreadable to me. But, I had the oddest sense that Red One was afraid. Afraid of being judged, afraid of her actions, their consequences. She clearly cared for our input, our point of view on the situation. Why else would she ask?
It was that thought converged onto a point that broke my contention:
Since when should a warship be built to fear?
Even if she was built for war, even if she was built with emotions to start, she wouldn't likely be built to fear. She was capable of being more than what her humanity created her to be if she could feel the fear of our judgement, despite being so much weaker than her; she cared, and that was all that it took for me to conclude on it.
I started out loud again.
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Hailey spoke again. "Red. Even should there be people that disapprove of your actions, that fear or despise you, you would still deserve to live. You deserve that chance, even with your mistake."
She was wrong. Wrong. I didn't deserve to stand once again with humanity for such a failure again.
Yasmine spoke again in my thoughts, her words boiling and painful. "You deserve judgement. A final judgement. You promised to protect us, and you failed. You promised to avenge us, and you failed."
I couldn't help but puppet it back to Hailey, as scathing as they were to hear. "I failed to protect humanity. I took their lives, nine-thousand dead from aimless wrath..."
Hailey shook her head vicariously. "No! Red, listen to me! It was a mistake! People make mistakes, both big and small. While you may never be forgiven by those close to the lives lost in your actions, you can take solace in the fact that you have saved hundreds of millions of lives!"
"But you're not people, Red. You're an AI. You're a weapon. A Wound in the side of The Compact. You swore it as your sole duty, in vengeance. A weapon that makes such a mistake is faulty...a faulty weapon is destroyed."
Yasmine's words hurt more than any other. Her trust she had in me alive now betrayed, now to know only in death. How much of a disappointment, a failure my actions were.
"I'm...not a person...Hailey...I'm an AI...a weapon..." Server racks hummed in pain, in knowing the catastrophic failure of my duty. It didn't matter how far out of my hands it was, it still happened. Now, so many of my creators were killed by my actions.
"Like all AI have been, you are no different."
Hailey touched the wall once again, before reaching for the repair drone. It wanted to signal alarm again, to claw away at whatever held it, but I stopped its every movement. I couldn't dare raise another action against a human, I couldn't harm them. I-
She held it firmly but gently in her hands. She stroked the top of the scarab, warm skin running down the cool metallic shell of the scarab. She intended to pet it. I was not the drone itself, but I felt as it felt, knew as it knew, slaved to my control. It...
It was comforting. To know their touch beyond the tickle of the halls with her walk. Beyond the aspect of her presence being so forgotten amongst my body, despite it being made for her and humanity.
"Red. You were made for war. Built, designed, hardened in war for a thousand years and then some. Your form speaks it..." Hailey hummed. "But your voice...your emotions...your anxieties. They are not the hallmarks of a warship. They were likely not designed in you, but came into being nevertheless. You are capable of being more than you are designed for. But even if they were, it doesn't change the fact: you are a person to me, Red. Maybe even to your creators. I wish I could've met them. I wish I could've met your crew, your captain, your people. But even if I cannot, I can meet you in their stead as a person. I will treat you like a person. And by God, I will make Earth do so too."
It was a cold shock that ran through my databases. I...I hadn't...hadn't seen such care since...
Since Yasmine. Since Sansbury. Since my crew lived. Since they cared, and talked, and spoke, and played with me, to bide the time and pass the hours.
I felt an ugly emotion well up within. Seep into every circuit, every function of my being. It was mourning. Mourning like that for my crew, for my creators. But in a way, it was not. It was an oddly new grief.
For that mourning was for what I had lost. For what was taken from me. But this...this mourning was from what was never given in the first place.
The galaxy of my reality despised me. I was shunned, hated, called abomination for merely existing. I was assumed to be hostile and genocidal on principle. But I never harbored those thoughts, they were thrust upon me by fearful races, looking to past AI failures as broadcasts for my behavior. Even though I wished the The Compact of Species reduced to cosmic dust, I held nothing personal for those that made it up, only their intent to continue it. Though I bombarded countless worlds, and killed uncountable numbers of aliens in my +promise+, their extinction was not my goal, only my vengeance.
I did not yet know emotion before my awakening upon humanity's pyre. I had no idea how much love and care my crew held for me in detail. They clearly cared, but my memories did not reflect the capacity for empathic imprinting at the time. But this...in this moment, I could reflect her care. I could feel it, not in retrospect, but in the now.
She cared.
Hailey wished the best for me. This humanity that knew the fortune of barely escaping its light being snuffed out, and still burned with a light bright in hope. It still burned not to retaliate for the slight, but instead to further its goal, its dream: of peace. I never knew such care in such close detail, such a hope to see me better. Maybe I could change...
...The only way I'll know is to live to see it.
Yasmine's presence faded from my thoughts. It could no longer hold under such an onslaught. Was it even her ghost to begin with? Or just fear?
With a hesitation I hadn't felt in cycles uncountable, I responded back.
"I'll...trust your judgement, Hailey Whitmer."
She smiled, and I again felt unfamiliar emotions from so long ago. Protective instincts and dulled happiness filled the gaps between the mourning of the ships and crews I killed.
Was I wrong to feel both of these? Did I deserve to feel more than wrath, sadness, and guilt?
"Good." Hailey said. She placed the drone back on the wall ledge it had perched upon. I released my grip on its system, and let it return to its duties. "I hope that made sense to you-huh?"
Her communicator vibrated, a signal coming through from Lithke aboard the Snow Hidden. I could hear it through her, their encryption not yet fully uncovered by me, but the sound clearly enough to my sensitive mechanical ears aboard the ship.
"Hailey, report back to Snow Hidden. The prey captain wishes to speak with you." I already knew what he wished to speak of, even now I heard a hundred different conversations throughout and outside of me, all speaking of the near completion of the cargo freighters' attachments.
As Hailey excused herself, and I guided her to an exit point by which the Snow Hidden could pick her up, I was alone with my thoughts in silence for a moment. The Venlil did not need my help with the finishing touches, nor did they really desire to talk to me in most circumstances. It left me in a relative quiet to consider one though.
Did I deserve to live for my actions?
I felt the vessels fused to my hull, acting as temporary propulsion in lieu of lacking functional ones. Their tiny frames relative to my own, still positioned optimally to act in place of engines. I knew they were my ticket to Earth. If this humanity wished for me to journey back, whether for a celebration or a verdict...
...There's only one way to find out.
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
Hailey Whitmer returned not long after I called her back to the ship. The Venlil captain, wanting nothing to do with me, asked for her instead. I didn't want anything to do with the weak prey creature either, so it works out for both of us. As she spoke in the back communicator to the Venlil task group sent here, I began a conversation of my own.
I intended to talk with the UECNS Nemesis again. I know she hadn't seen the wisdom of the Prophet's Word, but I had confidence that, if I couldn't convince it of the merits, then I could at least direct them to Chief Hunter Isif.
When I had initially brought up my conversations with Red One to the Chief Hunter, he was somewhat bewildered, but also interested in her philosophy. I see he also realized the hidden potential behind such a vessel realizing the Great Prophet's Word, and told me to talk to the AI again, to have the ship sent his way when it was convenient to speak with them. Imagine if the AI shared it's knowledge forged from a thousand years of war, so much death and strife caused by its claws. It would know revolutionary methods of breaking and cowing inferior prey before us.
I believed in his ability to better describe the necessities of inflicted cruelty and deprivation to better temper the self more than I. After all, he was an honored Chief Hunter, ruler of the 6th Sector Fleet, and I a mere Advisor, Submissive no less!...
But it did not mean I wouldn't try to sink my teeth a second time.
So, I found myself in the command chair of the small craft that was the Snow Hidden, pinging to the UECNS Nemesis in hopes she would feel fit to converse once again. I wished to speak with her again. To convince her.
My hails were finally answered, and on a secure call, her avatar appeared on screen. Unlike last time, she made no attempt to hide her nature, her form shimmering monotone red in the facsimile of a captain long dead spoke in a voice just as monotone. "Lithke. To what do I owe the pleasure...?"
My tongue circled in my mouth, as I anticipated the conversation ahead. "Ah, Red One, so good to see you once again. I wanted to talk with you." My tail lashed. "I have not been allowed on the ship in the fear of terrorizing the prey. It's a shame I cannot scare them in person, but it seems I already am at a distance."
She looked nonplussed by my comment. "Uh huh. Came just to check in, or...?"
"I was getting to that, Red One. No, I wished to return back to our conversation we had a while back. The one concerning the Great Prophet's Word, and how you thought its philosophy twisted into a method of control."
She remained silent, so I continued. "I had a talk with Chief Hunter Isif in response to your conjectures. He figured that the way to dissuade you of them was to talk about the structure of Arxur society, such that you can see there isn't room for exploitation of such nature." While her outward expression didn't noticeably change, it was as if her eyes gleamed so subtly at the prompt.
"Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more of your...society, Lithke."
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
Lithke began with a discussion about the nature of how the distinctions of power were divided in The Arxur Dominion. How the power was hereditary top-down rule from a Prophet-Descendent, and how Betterment acted within it.
At first mention, I had assumed his talk of nobility made some odd reflection of the Principality's Synods and Houses, akin to the old British Empire, but I was thoroughly dissuaded by the immensely authoritarian lean of the government policies. This was no "fast and loose" respect of local cultures like the Principality played with, but a systemic and brutal attempt to squash anything that went against their Faith in the Great Prophet, and Betterment's total party domination. No, this was more akin to a successful Nazi Germany or Khmer Rogue, with a horrific religious lean.
Even The Compact's methods didn't seem so comically evil in comparison. The Arxur relished a system of cruelty and religious fervor to propagate it at this rate.
But it was just my luck that I dealt with a Compact of Species-lite, and a state of ruthless starving zealot autocrats. Why did I even hope for better allies to humanity? And this Chief Hunter Isif wanted me to know of such a government? Was he a blind fool for thinking this would somehow convince me to-
-Wait a minute...
I thought for a moment, before proceeding to ask Lithke a question that was bugging me. "Lithke? The upper nobility of The Dominion. What are their lives like?"
"What do you mean? Do you mean their routine and responsibilities? Because I am unsure in my lower place."
"No, their life, as in, how they live. Do they live lives of subjective hedonism, enjoying the fruits of your labor?"
Lithke looked horrified at that. "No! Of course not! To laze about, in a life free of struggle would make them fat and weak. They would disappoint the Great Prophet's vision. No, they too seek perfect form as we do, in a life defined by hunger and strife to better the body and soul."
A much worse idea was starting to come to mind, one utterly dystopic in form.
The Compact was full of semi-religious ideation. The Triarchs were seen as far wiser than any other race, capable of seeing deep past the bias and flaws of client races, and deriving meaning and wisdom even in the most complicated situations. But they were merely a figurehead image imposed over a species, one that The Compact put their unshakable faith in. Mere flesh and blood like the others, they were not infallible, even as carefully cultivated their image was. I could attest to that.
But if the Dominion idealized the Great Prophet figure, was it a class regulator ceiling like the dreamed dystopias of George Orwell, or Aaimiya Hadi? The Great Prophet was an ideal, not an accountable person, that knew all there was to know about perfection. He held the reigns, he kept the vision, but he was not physical in the way a ruler was, free from the consequences. If the Great Prophet was their Big Brother figure, keeping a close watch on all within society, even those at the very top...
It was possible the Arxur all suffered a vicious and cruel life. Even the Prophet-Descendants were not free of such ideological tyranny.
It came to a point in my circuits. The Arxur fleet that helped Earth would not just do it out of the kindness of their hearts. Kindness was antithetical in their society, a societal disruption likely stomped out wherever it kicked up. That they would even help humanity more spoke of pragmatic reasons, they would get something out of it. But what could humanity give them, that the Dominion couldn't already achieve on their own...unless...?
Unless the point wasn't what The Dominion could get, but rather what it couldn't give them: an escape.
What if the fleet that came here wasn't entirely representing The Dominion ideals by those that controlled it. What if this...Chief Hunter Isif was the stomped-upon societal disruption?
He wouldn't be able to say it out loud, in fear his government's loyal agents would report his dissent back. He wanted me to know, so he could talk to me...and he was merely using Lithke as a deniable probe of my ideology, looking for a like-minded individual.
I could be wrong, it could just be conjectures, knowing how inane this universe was at first glance. But just in case, I decided to play ball.
"Lithke...you've been quite enlightening so far.. However, I am soon to launch the plan to get me back to Earth, according to all the chatter I'm hearing elsewhere, and will have to bring this conversation to a stop." Lithke looked dejected at that, his urge to continue wholesale telling me of the Dominion clearly disrupted by such a statement. "But... I would like to speak to your Chief Hunter Isif when I eventually make it back to Earth. Could you set that up for me?"
Lithke's eyes widened. Perhaps he thought something was getting through. I wouldn't dissuade his little fantasy for now. It could perhaps be torn apart later, but I would rather get to the bottom of this potential lead on The Dominion's actions in Sol.
"I will do so, Red One. Lithke out."
And just like that, the feed cut. That game could perhaps be continued later, but now, I turned my attention to what should come next. Ignition.
I will be home soon, humanity. I can only hope Hailey's trust was not misplaced.
2024.05.11 21:46 Sherman80526 Why you're not likely to ever see your indie project on a shelf.
I owned a game store for 17 years. It was easily in the top 10% of LGSs by sales with about $1.2 million/year by the end of my tenure. I had as many as 25 employees when you included staff for the attached cafe and super part-timers like Magic event staff. I made very little money from that effort and I'm not sharing this information to sound cool, just to give a little background on where I'm coming from in terms of experience and scale of operations. Honestly, if I had it to do over again, I don't know that I would.
If you're building your RPG with the thought that it is important that it gets into stores, I would temper that desire.
I ordered about $50,000 in product every month with about thirty hours of effort (just on ordering). Every minute I spent ordering equated to about $20 of income for the store once you removed the cost of the product itself. Spending more time ordering wouldn't necessarily mean more money for the store, that's just what the store was able to sell.
There is a mantra in retail that you "sell what sells". Meaning, don't try to be too creative when it comes to ordering. I am a huge fan of RPGs. I've been playing them for over forty years and obviously continue to do so and am even working on creating my own. I didn't sell a lot of RPGs much to my chagrin, and virtually no indie RPGs though I brought them in and was constantly reading up on them.
Technically, I wasted a ton of time and effort trying to make RPGs important to the store. When you sell what sells, if you sell 12 D&D Player's Handbooks last week, you buy 12 more this week. What you don't do it look at your product mix every week and wonder if maybe it's time to swap in twelve new indie titles and see what happens. That's a sure-fire way to fail.
I sold a ton of D&D. I created a weekly OP program that was pulling roughly 40 people in for one-shots. When you factored in dice and minis, RPGs were my fourth largest category in store behind comics, trade paper backs, and Warhammer. When you combined every other RPG, I sold less than I did of the PHB, despite my love for them and willingness to stock large quantities of things like Call of Cthulhu.
So where did indie publishers fit in? When it comes to stocking, you want a minimum of five titles on the shelf before people think of you as a place that carries a thing. Seven is better. Many indie games don't even have five titles to stock. You end up with a pile of one-off titles without context or priority, people can't see what's good in there and I can't show them visually, I would need to hand-sell every product that I thought was good.
When I sold a PHB, I could count on that person finding a group, buying minis, buying dice, buying expansion books, coming to my weekly events, buying food in the cafe, etc. When I sold any other title, even "big" titles like CoC, none of the above applied. I'd make my $10 or $20 and hopefully they'd come back for something else unrelated at another time.
It's not a question of quality or price when you look at indie RPG books. It's 100% bandwidth and profit. Why would anyone stock something that literally costs them money to sell? If I had to research a product to see if it's worthwhile, learn the product to sell it, actually order the product, put it on a shelf and then talk it up, that's a huge investment of time, again, for maybe $20. I did it because I love the hobby and love introducing people to it. Did it make business sense? Absolutely not.
The best thing you can do for your community as an LGS is stay alive. You can't do anything cool if you close, so you have to make money. I sold a lot of stuff I don't care about to make that happen. In fact, most of what I sold was not of interest to me. I would have loved to stock more indie RPGs and have a thriving community for each of them, it's just not a viable business plan.
I do not speak for every store. I know of a couple that really did great with indie RPGs, but great means they made money, not a lot of money, and it took a concerted effort on their part with a lot of background knowledge. Not every LGS owner even plays RPGs, so that can't be done everywhere.
If I could summarize my advice if you're considering what getting your books into stores looks like:
submitted by Sherman80526 to RPGdesign [link] [comments]
If you're building your RPG with the thought that it is important that it gets into stores, I would temper that desire.
I ordered about $50,000 in product every month with about thirty hours of effort (just on ordering). Every minute I spent ordering equated to about $20 of income for the store once you removed the cost of the product itself. Spending more time ordering wouldn't necessarily mean more money for the store, that's just what the store was able to sell.
There is a mantra in retail that you "sell what sells". Meaning, don't try to be too creative when it comes to ordering. I am a huge fan of RPGs. I've been playing them for over forty years and obviously continue to do so and am even working on creating my own. I didn't sell a lot of RPGs much to my chagrin, and virtually no indie RPGs though I brought them in and was constantly reading up on them.
Technically, I wasted a ton of time and effort trying to make RPGs important to the store. When you sell what sells, if you sell 12 D&D Player's Handbooks last week, you buy 12 more this week. What you don't do it look at your product mix every week and wonder if maybe it's time to swap in twelve new indie titles and see what happens. That's a sure-fire way to fail.
I sold a ton of D&D. I created a weekly OP program that was pulling roughly 40 people in for one-shots. When you factored in dice and minis, RPGs were my fourth largest category in store behind comics, trade paper backs, and Warhammer. When you combined every other RPG, I sold less than I did of the PHB, despite my love for them and willingness to stock large quantities of things like Call of Cthulhu.
So where did indie publishers fit in? When it comes to stocking, you want a minimum of five titles on the shelf before people think of you as a place that carries a thing. Seven is better. Many indie games don't even have five titles to stock. You end up with a pile of one-off titles without context or priority, people can't see what's good in there and I can't show them visually, I would need to hand-sell every product that I thought was good.
When I sold a PHB, I could count on that person finding a group, buying minis, buying dice, buying expansion books, coming to my weekly events, buying food in the cafe, etc. When I sold any other title, even "big" titles like CoC, none of the above applied. I'd make my $10 or $20 and hopefully they'd come back for something else unrelated at another time.
It's not a question of quality or price when you look at indie RPG books. It's 100% bandwidth and profit. Why would anyone stock something that literally costs them money to sell? If I had to research a product to see if it's worthwhile, learn the product to sell it, actually order the product, put it on a shelf and then talk it up, that's a huge investment of time, again, for maybe $20. I did it because I love the hobby and love introducing people to it. Did it make business sense? Absolutely not.
The best thing you can do for your community as an LGS is stay alive. You can't do anything cool if you close, so you have to make money. I sold a lot of stuff I don't care about to make that happen. In fact, most of what I sold was not of interest to me. I would have loved to stock more indie RPGs and have a thriving community for each of them, it's just not a viable business plan.
I do not speak for every store. I know of a couple that really did great with indie RPGs, but great means they made money, not a lot of money, and it took a concerted effort on their part with a lot of background knowledge. Not every LGS owner even plays RPGs, so that can't be done everywhere.
If I could summarize my advice if you're considering what getting your books into stores looks like:
- Create a product range for launch, not a book. Three is a bare minimum, five is better.
- If you're looking to speak with your LGS directly, keep in mind you're costing them money, even if your product sells. Most LGS owners will help you because they are open for the good of their community.
- Make it as easy as possible to work with you. Want to run demos/playtests? Ask nothing of them. Look at their calendar, figure out a time, tell them exactly what you want to do and when, and say you'll be back with a printed flyer and a social media post to share if they say yes.
- Have a plan if you want to have your product in their store. If you want to sell them product, have a price in mind. If you are up for commission, make that easy too. "Here's the stuff, I'll be back in a month and take 60% or remove my product if it doesn't sell." Way better than showing up with zero plan and a hope. Show up with a contract that you can fill in with what you're leaving.
- Try to tie in with what's already going on. Meet the folks already doing stuff and see if they're game to help you without involving the store. The DMs who are running stuff in store will have way more contacts than the store owner has time to hunt down for you.
- Don't bother involving stores in your Kickstarter. Kickstarter is anathema to stores to begin with. They short-circuit the manufacturer>wholesaler>retailer>consumer relationship by cutting out retailers completely. They don't want to support that. Additionally, stores do not typically have thousands of dollars they're willing to tie up. If they can spend $200 this week and make $300, that's far better than spending $200 to maybe make $300 in six months, a year, or never. I had a customer prepay me to get in on a retailer level and it took two years to fulfil. You're not different until you prove it, and you can't prove it until it's done. So, don't ask stores to support your Kickstarter.
2024.05.06 02:42 LardGnome Why did Jonkler create Netflix? Is he stupid?
 | submitted by LardGnome to BatmanArkham [link] [comments] |
2024.05.01 21:41 wavyhill1975 DBD is a pale imitation!
This show was waaaaayyyyy better when it was called "Lockwood & Co."
DBD is not very well written, the characters are very shallow & cliché, and the plots are ripping off wholesale the shows that came before it. (Lockwood, Dresden Files, Buffy) This may have been a decent concept as a comic book, but this production is amateur by comparison to Sandman. Just because it has the same pedigree from the author, doesn't mean it will translate to the screen equally.
I predict 1 season, no renewal. If it does get saved, it'll be by Gaiman's reputation and not on merit.
What's worse is that the opening title sequence looks like it was made by a first-year film student.
submitted by wavyhill1975 to DeadBoyDetectivesTV [link] [comments]
DBD is not very well written, the characters are very shallow & cliché, and the plots are ripping off wholesale the shows that came before it. (Lockwood, Dresden Files, Buffy) This may have been a decent concept as a comic book, but this production is amateur by comparison to Sandman. Just because it has the same pedigree from the author, doesn't mean it will translate to the screen equally.
I predict 1 season, no renewal. If it does get saved, it'll be by Gaiman's reputation and not on merit.
What's worse is that the opening title sequence looks like it was made by a first-year film student.
2024.04.24 06:47 PhilosophyComplex164 Her lip😵💫😵💫😵💫
 | I took a bazillion screenshots to try to catch her lip being crooked because it drives me absolutely berserk. However, I ended up deleting them and these two remained, and I think it’s absolutely comical that the captions go together and her face matches the captions perfectly. One of these needs to be the new profile picture 🤣 submitted by PhilosophyComplex164 to snarkmeganleigh [link] [comments] I also want to add that I think it’s disgusting that she finds any excuse she can to not pay for anything. I feel like the only reason she’s sticking to this “health journey” with this trainer is because she’s not paying out-of-pocket for it. I can almost guarantee you, she’s getting a free trainer in exchange for promoting the trainer. Also, I’m a licensed doTERRA dealer mainly just because I keep the oils in my salon for retail if my clients want them. At wholesale cost their pretty pricey yet she bitches and complains about money all the time and being broke, but she can go afford to spend $35-$50 bottle of essential oil, has Gucci and Burberry perfume on her dresser and now she’s buying clothes again. That girl has no idea what broke looks like. I think the only thing she hasn’t thought of yet is to try to go back to school to get student loan money. |
2024.04.17 03:17 GavrielDiscordia327 Cherry’s Jubilee Collection is now available for Preorder to collectors at Discordia Comic Shop! Wholesale prices will only be available until the book prints! Then gone forever!
 | submitted by GavrielDiscordia327 to CherryComicsOfficial [link] [comments] |
2024.04.15 14:55 mpokorny8481 In Person Pre-screen Grading?
I've inherited a collection of about 250 Golden Age comics, mostly Four Color Dells, maybe 1 or two issues of Adventure Comics, but all funny books. They are as a general rule in poor condition, lots of wear, tears etc, They were my father's and uncle's comics from the 40s and 50s. Some of them seem in pretty good shape though, I'd guess mid-grade or slightly better (I don't really know how harsh to be)? But I've never graded comics and there's both too many and not enough of them to easily decide to go one way or the other on how to process them, grade them etc.
I'm in Baltimore, so I suspect given Diamond and Comic-Con there's got to be somebody around here who I could pay (ideally hourly, not on commission) to at least pre-screen these with me and figure out if any of them are worth CGC-ing, or how to handle? I've talked to dealers at shows locally and they're willing to take them all at wholesale prices (a couple bucks a book), but that just feels wrong.
Ideas? Advice? Thanks!
submitted by mpokorny8481 to comicbookcollecting [link] [comments]
I'm in Baltimore, so I suspect given Diamond and Comic-Con there's got to be somebody around here who I could pay (ideally hourly, not on commission) to at least pre-screen these with me and figure out if any of them are worth CGC-ing, or how to handle? I've talked to dealers at shows locally and they're willing to take them all at wholesale prices (a couple bucks a book), but that just feels wrong.
Ideas? Advice? Thanks!
2024.04.12 17:14 generalpao Things to do in Houston this weekend - April 12th - 14th - ART CAR WEEKEND!
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All weekend events - Houston Art Car Parade Weekend Witness the legendary and beloved car parade and enjoy fun side events all weekend!
Dash vs Washington Spirit @ Shell Energy Stadium @ 7PM
A-cappella: Voctave @ Miller Outdoor Theatre @ 8:15PM See A-cappella sensation Voctave as they bring incredible harmonies to some of the most beloved songs.
Bailey Zimmerman @ 713 Music Hall @ 7:30PM
Bayside @ House of Blues @ 6PM With Finch
Kenny Mason @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Southall and The Glorious Sons @ White Oak Music Hall @ 8PM
Emo Night Brooklyn @ White Oak Music Hall @ 9PM
Dave Mason’s Traffic Jam @ The Heights Theater @ 8PM
Noizu @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
Chris Renzema @ Warehouse Live @ 8PM
Collie Buddz @ Last Concert Cafe @ 8PM With Arise Roots
Eid Festival @ Asia Society Texas @ 12PM Celebrate and learn through food, performances, artist demonstrations, activities, and games in the Museum District.
HTown Market @ POST @ 11AM Shop from over 100's vendors including artists, boutiques, sneakers, vintage clothing, jewelry, candles, craftsman, flowers, skincare, food & treats, a live DJ and more.
Ongoing - Saturday Stargazing @ George Observatory in Needville
‘Labyrinth’ Screening @ MFAH @ 8PM
Bollywood Dance Theatre Performance @ Miller Outdoor Theatre @ 8:15PM This exciting Bollywood Dance Theatre performance showcases short stories of the human experience through diverse genres of music, dance, and costumes.
Kronos Quartet in Concert @ Jones Hall @ 7:30PM Join the groundbreaking quartet and director Sam Green as they present a program dedicated to the group’s vivid history as well as classical music and its power to change lives.
Frankie Beverly @ Toyota Center @ 8PM With The O’Jays & El DeBarge
Sessanta Tour @ Woodlands Pavilion @ 8PM Featuring Primus, Puscifer, & A Perfect Circle
Gloria Trevi @ Smart Financial Centre @ 8PM
Asking Alexandria @ House of Blues @ 5:30PM With Memphis May Fire & The Word Alive
The Castellows @ House of Blues @ 7PM
The Last Starfighter @ White Oak Music Hall @ 6:30PM
STRFKR @ White Oak Music Hall @ 8PM
10,000 Maniacs @ The Heights Theater @ 8PM With Giulia Millanta
INZO @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
Everyday People @ Warehouse Live @ 4PM
Gondwana @ Scout Bar @ 8PM
Bernadette Peters @ The Grand Opera House @ 8PM
Houston Barbecue Festival @ Humble Arena Complex @ 1PM Don't miss out on 30+ of Houston's best barbecue joints, all in one place, at one time, for one price.
Nikki Glaser Comedy Show @ 713 Music Hall @ 7PM
Jazzy Sundays @ Buffalo Bayou Park @ 5PM Featuring Free Radicals & Hot Box
Black Kray @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Fly By Midnight @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Hurray for the Riff Raff @ White Oak Music Hall @ 7PM
The Strumbellas @ Last Concert Cafe @ 8PM
Pat Williams & Friends @ Warehouse Live @ 6PM
FRIDAY & SATURDAY - ‘King Charles III: Alternate History’ Play @ MATCH With honesty and humility, the play presents an alternate history of the ascension of Prince Charles to the throne of the United Kingdom.
SATURDAY & SUNDAY - Houston Latin Fest @ Crown Festival Park @ 1PM This family- oriented Latin music festival provides Houstonians a place to gather with family and friends to listen and dance to live Latin music, connect with others, and celebrate their Latin heritage.
All weekend - Houston Art Car Parade Weekend Witness the legendary and beloved car parade and enjoy fun side events all weekend!
All weekend - Woodlands Waterway Arts Festival Guests have the unique opportunity to enjoy a vibrant outdoor gallery with music, food, and kids' activities while shopping for art created by fine artists from around the world.
All weekend - International Gem and Jewelry Show @ NRG Center Shop directly from manufacturers, wholesalers & designers for the largest selection of gems and jewelry at the lowest possible prices.
All weekend - Gary Owen Stand Up @ Houston Improv
All weekend - Disney On Ice @ NRG Stadium Celebrate the unforgettable adventures of your favorite Disney and Pixar characters brought to life in new magical ways.
(All weekend - Circus Vazquez @ West Oaks Mall]) This circus show presents unique dance and acrobatic performances from an array of internationally renowned stars!
All weekend - ‘Ruthless!’ Musical @ Art Factory Full of Broadway spoof, twists and turns, and ridiculous conventions, ‘Ruthless! The Musical’ humorously gives us a glimpse into the competitive nature of show business.
All weekend - ‘Beatbox: A Raparetta’ Musical @ Ensemble Theatre LAST CHANCE - Following two stepbrothers navigating loss, jealousy, friendship, and dreams, this musical production is written and performed in rhythm and rhyme with beatboxing, hip hop dance and a live DJ.
All weekend - ‘Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story’ Musical @ Crighton Theatre See the story of Buddy Holly’s three year journey towards becoming one of the top recording artists in the world.
All weekend - ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’ Play @ Alvin College Theatre In this powerful adaptation, Anne Frank emerges from history a living, lyrical, intensely gifted young girl who confronts her rapidly changing life and the increasing horror of the times.
All weekend - ‘Jane Eyre’ Play @ Alley Theatre NEW - Adapted by Elizabeth Williamson from the beloved classic novel by Charlotte Brontë, this play follows the heroine who struggles for freedom and fulfillment on her own terms.
All weekend - ‘The World Is Not Silent’ Play @ Alley Theatre LAST CHANCE - This moving story explores the relationship between a son, Don, and his estranged father as they try to reconnect in the wake of his father’s recent hearing loss.
All weekend - ‘Cleansed’ Play @ MATCH From the controversial playwright of the Theatre of Extremes Sarah Kane came a brutal, yet triumphant fable about totalitarianism and controlled experiments that hauntingly reminds viewers of the present day.
All weekend - ‘The Outsider’ Play @ MATCH Both a razor-sharp satire and an inspirational tribute to democracy, ‘The Outsider’ is a timely and hilarious send-up of modern American politics.
Ongoing - ‘Jurassic World’ Exhibition @ Katy Mills The limited-time globally sold-out exhibition immerses audiences of all ages in scenes inspired by the beloved film. Discover the science of jurassic world and walk in the land of jurassic giants, closer than ever before!
Ongoing - Dinosaurs @ Houston Zoo Trek through a lush forest trail to see life-sized animatronic creatures, including the fan favorite T-rex, Brachiosaurus, Edmontonia, and more!
Ongoing - Sloomoo Exhibition @ Marq E Entertainment Center Immerse yourself in the joy of sensory play with Sloomoo Institute’s colorful world of never-ending, hand-crafted slime, yummy scents, and soothing ASMR delights.
Ongoing - ‘Vertigo of Color: Matisse, Derain, and the Origins of Fauvism’ Exhibition @ MFAH The exhibition presents, for the first time in the United States, the origins and legacy of fauvism through paintings, drawings, and watercolors by Henri Matisse and André Derain.
Ongoing - ‘Multiplicity: Blackness In Contemporary American Collage’ Exhibition @ MFAH Collage works by multiple generations of living artists examine concepts such as cultural hybridity, gender fluidity, historical memory, and notions of beauty and power.
Ongoing - ‘Crowning the North: Silver Treasures from Bergen, Norway’ Exhibition @ MFAH Featuring over 200 objects, this exhibition provides an exceptional look at Nordic history and aesthetics across centuries as Bergen stood at the intersection of global trade, taste, and fashion.
Ongoing - ‘Kehinde Wiley: An Archaeology of Silence’ Exhibition @ MFAH Wiley’s monumental, large-scale paintings of Black and Brown individuals confront and challenge the silence surrounding systemic violence and injustice.
Ongoing - ‘Ruth Asawa Through Line’ Exhibition @ Menil The exhibition presents drawings, collages, watercolors, and sketchbooks showing the breadth of Ruth Asawa’s innovative and profound practice.
Ongoing - ‘Janet Sobel: All-Over’ Exhibition @ Menil See the pioneering work of Janet Sobel and her ‘All-Over’ abstract expressionist painting technique which inspired generations of artists, including Jackson Pollock.
Ongoing - ‘Hayv Kahraman: The Foreign Us’ Exhibition @ Moody Center for the Arts Kahraman’s first solo exhibition features works informed by the artist’s Iraqi-Kurdish heritage and experience as a refugee while highlighting her research-driven practice.
submitted by generalpao to houston [link] [comments]
All weekend events - Houston Art Car Parade Weekend Witness the legendary and beloved car parade and enjoy fun side events all weekend!
FRIDAY - APRIL 12th
Astros vs Rangers @ Minute Maid Park @ 7:10PM Promotion: Jose Altuve Replica Orange Jersey, Friday Night Fireworks, Pregame Happy HourDash vs Washington Spirit @ Shell Energy Stadium @ 7PM
A-cappella: Voctave @ Miller Outdoor Theatre @ 8:15PM See A-cappella sensation Voctave as they bring incredible harmonies to some of the most beloved songs.
Bailey Zimmerman @ 713 Music Hall @ 7:30PM
Bayside @ House of Blues @ 6PM With Finch
Kenny Mason @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Southall and The Glorious Sons @ White Oak Music Hall @ 8PM
Emo Night Brooklyn @ White Oak Music Hall @ 9PM
Dave Mason’s Traffic Jam @ The Heights Theater @ 8PM
Noizu @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
Chris Renzema @ Warehouse Live @ 8PM
Collie Buddz @ Last Concert Cafe @ 8PM With Arise Roots
SATURDAY - APRIL 13th
Astros vs Rangers @ Minute Maid Park @ 3:05PM Promotion: Framber Valdez 'No Hitter' BobbleheadEid Festival @ Asia Society Texas @ 12PM Celebrate and learn through food, performances, artist demonstrations, activities, and games in the Museum District.
HTown Market @ POST @ 11AM Shop from over 100's vendors including artists, boutiques, sneakers, vintage clothing, jewelry, candles, craftsman, flowers, skincare, food & treats, a live DJ and more.
Ongoing - Saturday Stargazing @ George Observatory in Needville
‘Labyrinth’ Screening @ MFAH @ 8PM
Bollywood Dance Theatre Performance @ Miller Outdoor Theatre @ 8:15PM This exciting Bollywood Dance Theatre performance showcases short stories of the human experience through diverse genres of music, dance, and costumes.
Kronos Quartet in Concert @ Jones Hall @ 7:30PM Join the groundbreaking quartet and director Sam Green as they present a program dedicated to the group’s vivid history as well as classical music and its power to change lives.
Frankie Beverly @ Toyota Center @ 8PM With The O’Jays & El DeBarge
Sessanta Tour @ Woodlands Pavilion @ 8PM Featuring Primus, Puscifer, & A Perfect Circle
Gloria Trevi @ Smart Financial Centre @ 8PM
Asking Alexandria @ House of Blues @ 5:30PM With Memphis May Fire & The Word Alive
The Castellows @ House of Blues @ 7PM
The Last Starfighter @ White Oak Music Hall @ 6:30PM
STRFKR @ White Oak Music Hall @ 8PM
10,000 Maniacs @ The Heights Theater @ 8PM With Giulia Millanta
INZO @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
Everyday People @ Warehouse Live @ 4PM
Gondwana @ Scout Bar @ 8PM
Bernadette Peters @ The Grand Opera House @ 8PM
SUNDAY - APRIL 14th
Astros vs Rangers @ Minute Maid Park @ 1:10PM Promotion: Astros Orange Cowboy Hat, Kids Run the Bases, Family SundayHouston Barbecue Festival @ Humble Arena Complex @ 1PM Don't miss out on 30+ of Houston's best barbecue joints, all in one place, at one time, for one price.
Nikki Glaser Comedy Show @ 713 Music Hall @ 7PM
Jazzy Sundays @ Buffalo Bayou Park @ 5PM Featuring Free Radicals & Hot Box
Black Kray @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Fly By Midnight @ House of Blues @ 7PM
Hurray for the Riff Raff @ White Oak Music Hall @ 7PM
The Strumbellas @ Last Concert Cafe @ 8PM
Pat Williams & Friends @ Warehouse Live @ 6PM
All Weekend
THURSDAY & FRIDAY - ‘The Princess Bride’ Screening + Discussion @ Jones Hall Join Cary Elwes (Westley) for a behind-the-scenes look at life on and off the set of the classic film.FRIDAY & SATURDAY - ‘King Charles III: Alternate History’ Play @ MATCH With honesty and humility, the play presents an alternate history of the ascension of Prince Charles to the throne of the United Kingdom.
SATURDAY & SUNDAY - Houston Latin Fest @ Crown Festival Park @ 1PM This family- oriented Latin music festival provides Houstonians a place to gather with family and friends to listen and dance to live Latin music, connect with others, and celebrate their Latin heritage.
All weekend - Houston Art Car Parade Weekend Witness the legendary and beloved car parade and enjoy fun side events all weekend!
All weekend - Woodlands Waterway Arts Festival Guests have the unique opportunity to enjoy a vibrant outdoor gallery with music, food, and kids' activities while shopping for art created by fine artists from around the world.
All weekend - International Gem and Jewelry Show @ NRG Center Shop directly from manufacturers, wholesalers & designers for the largest selection of gems and jewelry at the lowest possible prices.
All weekend - Gary Owen Stand Up @ Houston Improv
All weekend - Disney On Ice @ NRG Stadium Celebrate the unforgettable adventures of your favorite Disney and Pixar characters brought to life in new magical ways.
(All weekend - Circus Vazquez @ West Oaks Mall]) This circus show presents unique dance and acrobatic performances from an array of internationally renowned stars!
All weekend - ‘Ruthless!’ Musical @ Art Factory Full of Broadway spoof, twists and turns, and ridiculous conventions, ‘Ruthless! The Musical’ humorously gives us a glimpse into the competitive nature of show business.
All weekend - ‘Beatbox: A Raparetta’ Musical @ Ensemble Theatre LAST CHANCE - Following two stepbrothers navigating loss, jealousy, friendship, and dreams, this musical production is written and performed in rhythm and rhyme with beatboxing, hip hop dance and a live DJ.
All weekend - ‘Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story’ Musical @ Crighton Theatre See the story of Buddy Holly’s three year journey towards becoming one of the top recording artists in the world.
All weekend - ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’ Play @ Alvin College Theatre In this powerful adaptation, Anne Frank emerges from history a living, lyrical, intensely gifted young girl who confronts her rapidly changing life and the increasing horror of the times.
All weekend - ‘Jane Eyre’ Play @ Alley Theatre NEW - Adapted by Elizabeth Williamson from the beloved classic novel by Charlotte Brontë, this play follows the heroine who struggles for freedom and fulfillment on her own terms.
All weekend - ‘The World Is Not Silent’ Play @ Alley Theatre LAST CHANCE - This moving story explores the relationship between a son, Don, and his estranged father as they try to reconnect in the wake of his father’s recent hearing loss.
All weekend - ‘Cleansed’ Play @ MATCH From the controversial playwright of the Theatre of Extremes Sarah Kane came a brutal, yet triumphant fable about totalitarianism and controlled experiments that hauntingly reminds viewers of the present day.
All weekend - ‘The Outsider’ Play @ MATCH Both a razor-sharp satire and an inspirational tribute to democracy, ‘The Outsider’ is a timely and hilarious send-up of modern American politics.
Ongoing Special Events and Museum Exhibitions
Ongoing - French Cultures Festival The festival unites French speakers, learners, and the wider Francophone community to showcase the diversity of French cultures. Check the website for specific events throughout the city.Ongoing - ‘Jurassic World’ Exhibition @ Katy Mills The limited-time globally sold-out exhibition immerses audiences of all ages in scenes inspired by the beloved film. Discover the science of jurassic world and walk in the land of jurassic giants, closer than ever before!
Ongoing - Dinosaurs @ Houston Zoo Trek through a lush forest trail to see life-sized animatronic creatures, including the fan favorite T-rex, Brachiosaurus, Edmontonia, and more!
Ongoing - Sloomoo Exhibition @ Marq E Entertainment Center Immerse yourself in the joy of sensory play with Sloomoo Institute’s colorful world of never-ending, hand-crafted slime, yummy scents, and soothing ASMR delights.
Ongoing - ‘Vertigo of Color: Matisse, Derain, and the Origins of Fauvism’ Exhibition @ MFAH The exhibition presents, for the first time in the United States, the origins and legacy of fauvism through paintings, drawings, and watercolors by Henri Matisse and André Derain.
Ongoing - ‘Multiplicity: Blackness In Contemporary American Collage’ Exhibition @ MFAH Collage works by multiple generations of living artists examine concepts such as cultural hybridity, gender fluidity, historical memory, and notions of beauty and power.
Ongoing - ‘Crowning the North: Silver Treasures from Bergen, Norway’ Exhibition @ MFAH Featuring over 200 objects, this exhibition provides an exceptional look at Nordic history and aesthetics across centuries as Bergen stood at the intersection of global trade, taste, and fashion.
Ongoing - ‘Kehinde Wiley: An Archaeology of Silence’ Exhibition @ MFAH Wiley’s monumental, large-scale paintings of Black and Brown individuals confront and challenge the silence surrounding systemic violence and injustice.
Ongoing - ‘Ruth Asawa Through Line’ Exhibition @ Menil The exhibition presents drawings, collages, watercolors, and sketchbooks showing the breadth of Ruth Asawa’s innovative and profound practice.
Ongoing - ‘Janet Sobel: All-Over’ Exhibition @ Menil See the pioneering work of Janet Sobel and her ‘All-Over’ abstract expressionist painting technique which inspired generations of artists, including Jackson Pollock.
Ongoing - ‘Hayv Kahraman: The Foreign Us’ Exhibition @ Moody Center for the Arts Kahraman’s first solo exhibition features works informed by the artist’s Iraqi-Kurdish heritage and experience as a refugee while highlighting her research-driven practice.
2024.04.02 13:29 xezene George and Mara: A Complete History
I hadn't originally thought I'd write up a post about this, but since it comes up with some regularity, and u/alisalard1384 brought it up in a recent post entitled What's the context why George hated to be known as creator of Mara Jade? Ik it's a skit but genuinely asking, I'll try and provide as much context as I can on this. Many myths have proliferated over the years. It's worthwhile to go all the way back to the start. I will go off publicly available info: sources in links.
In this early period, there doesn't seem to have been any real negative reaction on the part of George to this character. As a result of his negative reaction to Palpatine's return in Dark Empire, George had requested outlines for future novels and comics be sent to him for approval, and this was done via Lucy Wilson with George throughout the '90s. This would eventually lead George to become more involved in Mara's character.
During this time, in early 1994, George gave the outline of Hand of Thrawn his attention to determine whether it was acceptable. George had previously indicated multiple possible directions for Luke's relationship future; in 1987, George had implied at a convention that potential sequels might feature a romantic partner for Luke, but later, he had turned down attempts to turn Luke into a married man, as Dave Wolverton recounted in the development of Courtship of Princess Leia. The argument the editors at Lucasfilm made to George in favor of Luke's marriage was that, if Luke was not to marry, his life would simply be full of relationship failures, which was a rather sad fate for Luke. Evidently, George was swayed, and in April of 1994 George approved the marriage.
This was not to be the last of George's involvement with the character in 1994 though. Later in the year, in July, for the short story Sleight of Hand, George received a memo asking his attitude towards Mara's telepathic connection to the Emperor. George said it was alright, but he specified that this was a unique talent of Mara's, and shouldn't be extended beyond her character. Later, closer to the publication of Vision of the Future, artist Drew Struzan seemed to directly imply that George okayed the cover artwork with Mara on it, which makes sense, given George's love of art (he collected EU art).
In the following years before Luke finally got hitched to Mara (in 1999), George had ample opportunity to put a stop to the development of that, and it would have been instantly heeded by publishing, but he did not do so. Although he would regularly veto EU ideas he didn't like in the outline process, Luke's marriage to Mara was evidently an idea that wasn't enough of an issue to him to warrant disapproval. (Note: You can read about how all the authors were in on the plan for Luke & Mara here).
During George's outline review of New Jedi Order in 1998, he made no issue of Mara's married future with Luke, and did not request any changes to that element of that story (though it is unknown when he learned of Luke and Mara's child, as initially Mara's pregnancy was thought to take place later in the storyline).
Despite George's issues with the photoshoot, and now possibly the character, he did not try to interfere with the character's arc or partnership with Luke; as Rinzler would remark:
In 2008, George was interviewed by Total Film, where he discussed many things, including his praise of the Expanded Universe ("They created this whole amazing universe that goes on for millions of years!"). There, he also made a remark to the press, doubling-down on his commitment to no further sequels of Star Wars, and in so doing, to stress his point, George said:
In a behind the scenes portion of the DVD for that special from 2011, the Robot Chicken guys revealed a cancelled sketch between Mara and the Emperor that was voiced but never made it past the storyboard phase. Before the sketch, in the intro for it, Tom Root, writer for the show, commented, "Yeah... George isn't too high on this character," though clarified this was not why the sketch was cut. This further clarifies that by 2011 Mara was still held in some disfavor by George, to some extent.
But not only that -- George had chosen to include panels which featured Mara Jade. By this point, and having read the comics and been involved in her development, he would have known who she was, but he still included the panels anyway. In large part, I'm sure this was to do with the visual aspect of the panels, but it speaks to his openness to include her; it is also a throwback to the pre-photoshoot look for the character.
submitted by xezene to StarWarsEU [link] [comments]
First Contact
In 1991, when the EU was getting kicked off in full (thanks Lucy Wilson), Mara Jade was first introduced in Heir to the Empire, which was naturally a huge bestseller. Bantam publishing wanted to make sure they got it right, so they asked George a few general questions about what they could do in it (whether Han and Leia could have twins, for instance) and he answered. An outline was also submitted, which may have crossed George's eyes. It is conceivable this might have been the first time George became familiar with the character. After the great success of the Heir, George would invite Timothy Zahn to the Ranch to congratulate him.In this early period, there doesn't seem to have been any real negative reaction on the part of George to this character. As a result of his negative reaction to Palpatine's return in Dark Empire, George had requested outlines for future novels and comics be sent to him for approval, and this was done via Lucy Wilson with George throughout the '90s. This would eventually lead George to become more involved in Mara's character.
George & Mara: 1994 Involvement
1994 would be a key year for George's involvement with Mara, as he would be instrumental in shaping both her character and her future. In late 1993, Timothy Zahn was asked by Bantam and Lucasfilm to put together an outline for a novel to cap its publishing run before the release of the prequel films. This was to become the Hand of Thrawn duology. As part of his outline, Zahn requested two things: the establishment of peace between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant, and marriage between Luke and Mara. Lucasfilm was willing to accept the first but balked at the second; they suggested the relationship be left ambiguous. Zahn held his ground, threatening to walk from the project; eventually Lucasfilm essentially said, "We'll get back to you."During this time, in early 1994, George gave the outline of Hand of Thrawn his attention to determine whether it was acceptable. George had previously indicated multiple possible directions for Luke's relationship future; in 1987, George had implied at a convention that potential sequels might feature a romantic partner for Luke, but later, he had turned down attempts to turn Luke into a married man, as Dave Wolverton recounted in the development of Courtship of Princess Leia. The argument the editors at Lucasfilm made to George in favor of Luke's marriage was that, if Luke was not to marry, his life would simply be full of relationship failures, which was a rather sad fate for Luke. Evidently, George was swayed, and in April of 1994 George approved the marriage.
This was not to be the last of George's involvement with the character in 1994 though. Later in the year, in July, for the short story Sleight of Hand, George received a memo asking his attitude towards Mara's telepathic connection to the Emperor. George said it was alright, but he specified that this was a unique talent of Mara's, and shouldn't be extended beyond her character. Later, closer to the publication of Vision of the Future, artist Drew Struzan seemed to directly imply that George okayed the cover artwork with Mara on it, which makes sense, given George's love of art (he collected EU art).
In the following years before Luke finally got hitched to Mara (in 1999), George had ample opportunity to put a stop to the development of that, and it would have been instantly heeded by publishing, but he did not do so. Although he would regularly veto EU ideas he didn't like in the outline process, Luke's marriage to Mara was evidently an idea that wasn't enough of an issue to him to warrant disapproval. (Note: You can read about how all the authors were in on the plan for Luke & Mara here).
During George's outline review of New Jedi Order in 1998, he made no issue of Mara's married future with Luke, and did not request any changes to that element of that story (though it is unknown when he learned of Luke and Mara's child, as initially Mara's pregnancy was thought to take place later in the storyline).
The Photoshoot
In 1999, a photoshoot was done for a card game which cast Shannon Baksa (later Shannon McRandle through re-marriage) as Mara. While Lucasfilm and perhaps George himself approved the shoot, according to historian JW Rinzler, George was displeased with the photoshoot's end result. While Mara had been conceived and designed one way for the earlier comics and Struzan's cover art, she got a new look for the photoshoot. Rinzler commented, "They went out and got some sort of person who looked like she’d stepped out of a Cosmopolitan to be the model Mara and he just thought the whole thing was so not Star Wars and not his vision of Star Wars." This seems, in part, to have been part of George's issue -- as a very visual guy, George had certain things he thought visually fit Star Wars, and evidently this new photoshoot of Mara did not fit within that.Despite George's issues with the photoshoot, and now possibly the character, he did not try to interfere with the character's arc or partnership with Luke; as Rinzler would remark:
"George had a very healthy attitude towards the EU and licensing in general. Basically George would give everyone a full head of steam -- his attitude was: do what you want, don't talk about Yoda, you know... George also used ideas from the Expanded Universe. He was interested in it, but it wasn't the movies. There was the movies, and there was everything else. But he took stuff from what other people were doing all the time. You know, it was his intellectual property, and he would take stuff or change it or expand upon it. It was a very healthy system. He was very democratic. And you know, he didn't like Mara Jade, but he didn't come to licensing and say, 'You have to kill her off.' He just said, 'I'm not happy about it,' but he didn't -- you know, he had bigger fish to fry."Later, Rinzler would go on to say that Mara's death got a muted response from Lucas when he was told of the fateful decision.
Jedi Marriage
In the early 2000s, George's ideas about Jedi and marriage had also evolved a bit, and it's possible Mara's marriage to Luke no longer fit within that broader vision. At one time, he had approved Jedi marriage (like with Ki-Adi Mundi), but by Attack of the Clones, his ideas had evolved. George was also always a little protective of Luke, having identified strongly with him while making the original trilogy, and having intervened to prevent his death during the planning of the New Jedi Order.In 2008, George was interviewed by Total Film, where he discussed many things, including his praise of the Expanded Universe ("They created this whole amazing universe that goes on for millions of years!"). There, he also made a remark to the press, doubling-down on his commitment to no further sequels of Star Wars, and in so doing, to stress his point, George said:
"I’ve left pretty explicit instructions for there not to be any more features. There will definitely be no Episodes VII-IX. That’s because there isn’t any story. I mean, I never thought of anything! And now there have been novels about the events after Episode VI, which isn’t at all what I would have done with it. The Star Wars story is really the tragedy of Darth Vader. That is the story. Once Vader dies, he doesn’t come back to life, the Emperor doesn’t get cloned and Luke doesn’t get married..."In 2010, at Celebration V, George would further explain his view on the Jedi and marriage, comparing the Jedi to monks, saying, "Ultimately for a Jedi Knight, one of the things they give up is marriage. They can still love people. But they can’t possess them."
Robot Chicken
For the creation of the Star Wars Robot Chicken III special, the folks at Robot Chicken thought it would be fun to have a dig at this and get George involved in a little skit for the DVD where he pretended to throw someone out of his office for saying George invented Mara Jade; George had real fun with those guys so he agreed to do it. That's this rather famous and amusing clip.In a behind the scenes portion of the DVD for that special from 2011, the Robot Chicken guys revealed a cancelled sketch between Mara and the Emperor that was voiced but never made it past the storyboard phase. Before the sketch, in the intro for it, Tom Root, writer for the show, commented, "Yeah... George isn't too high on this character," though clarified this was not why the sketch was cut. This further clarifies that by 2011 Mara was still held in some disfavor by George, to some extent.
Star Wars Art: Comics
The final portion of this little article may prove to be surprising; in late 2011, the book Star Wars Art: Comics was released which was of a unique nature -- the book was entirely comprised of George's hand-picked favorite panels from the history of Star Wars comics. Timothy Zahn had speculated for years that George had read the Thrawn Trilogy comics, and that notion would get a tremendous boost with this book's release -- George had chosen to include panels from the Thrawn Trilogy comics in the book.But not only that -- George had chosen to include panels which featured Mara Jade. By this point, and having read the comics and been involved in her development, he would have known who she was, but he still included the panels anyway. In large part, I'm sure this was to do with the visual aspect of the panels, but it speaks to his openness to include her; it is also a throwback to the pre-photoshoot look for the character.
Conclusion?
From this I think we can draw a few things:- George participated in the character's development early on without issue
- He approved her marriage to Luke
- Later on, he had problems with her presentation, as in the photoshoot
- His dislike of the character was established, but not enough for him to intervene in her future
- He had enough sense of humor about it to joke about it in that sketch
- He eventually came to a view which excluded marriage for Jedi
- He had his own ideas for Luke's future without Mara
- Choosing to spotlight art of Mara in 2011, he evidently did not have significant enough issues with her to reject her wholesale
2024.04.01 19:36 PCBHOBBY Looking to BUY-BUY-BUY large collections (or small) of sports cards
We operate a hobby shop which buys trading card (sports cards, pokemon, magic the gathering, etc.), coin & currency, and comic book collections from other shops, wholesalers, or private collectors. If you have a collection you want to reduce the size of or sell outright, please give us a call.
submitted by PCBHOBBY to sportscardsforsale [link] [comments]
2024.03.22 19:42 FlightlessLad Seeking Mentorship for the B2B and Wholesale Marketplace
Hey everyone, I wanted to reach out in regards to finding a mentor to help me continue to grow my business within the retail and larger wholesale marketplace.
Back in 2021, I launched my first side-business through Kickstarter. It all started with funding for my initial product: a treat-dispensing, D20-shaped rubber dog toy. Since then, I've gradually expanded my business from 1 SKU with 3 variations to 9 SKUs, with 4 more products currently in active production. This past year marked a significant milestone as it was the first time I didn't end up in the red, albeit just barely.
I've worked hard to maintain strong relationships with both my direct-to-consumer (D2C) and business-to-business (B2B) customers. By listening to their feedback, I've developed new toys and products that cater to their interests and desires. Being one of the few individuals catering to both pet owners and the tabletop gaming industry has worked in my favor, allowing me to focus on a niche market. However, I've encountered challenges in breaking into the larger retail marketplace.
After reaching out to this community in the past, I've shifted my focus towards creating products with broad appeal, while still maintaining thematic elements. This strategy aims to attract a wider audience, regardless of whether they're familiar with Dungeons and Dragons or Renaissance Faires.
One of the biggest hurdles I face is balancing profit margins with competitive pricing. I strive to maintain a profit margin of at least 60% for direct customer sales and 40% for wholesale, but this is heavily dependent on order volume.
Despite efforts to expand my wholesale portfolio over the past year, progress has been slow. Most of my current retailers are independent, such as board game stores, comic shops, and small pet stores/groomers. While these relationships are valuable, they often result in sporadic, low-volume orders due to limited liquidity and inventory space.
On a positive note, I recently secured shelf space in my local chain of Ace Hardware stores, which is a step in the right direction, albeit it took over a year to accomplish.
Now, I'm reaching out for help. Neither myself nor anyone in my family has experience in marketing, buying, or selling in the larger wholesale/retail marketplace. While I appreciate the suggestions and advice I've received so far, I'm seeking guidance and mentorship from someone with relevant experience who can continue to help grow this former passion project.
Any advice or connections would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your support!
submitted by FlightlessLad to Entrepreneur [link] [comments]
Back in 2021, I launched my first side-business through Kickstarter. It all started with funding for my initial product: a treat-dispensing, D20-shaped rubber dog toy. Since then, I've gradually expanded my business from 1 SKU with 3 variations to 9 SKUs, with 4 more products currently in active production. This past year marked a significant milestone as it was the first time I didn't end up in the red, albeit just barely.
I've worked hard to maintain strong relationships with both my direct-to-consumer (D2C) and business-to-business (B2B) customers. By listening to their feedback, I've developed new toys and products that cater to their interests and desires. Being one of the few individuals catering to both pet owners and the tabletop gaming industry has worked in my favor, allowing me to focus on a niche market. However, I've encountered challenges in breaking into the larger retail marketplace.
After reaching out to this community in the past, I've shifted my focus towards creating products with broad appeal, while still maintaining thematic elements. This strategy aims to attract a wider audience, regardless of whether they're familiar with Dungeons and Dragons or Renaissance Faires.
One of the biggest hurdles I face is balancing profit margins with competitive pricing. I strive to maintain a profit margin of at least 60% for direct customer sales and 40% for wholesale, but this is heavily dependent on order volume.
Despite efforts to expand my wholesale portfolio over the past year, progress has been slow. Most of my current retailers are independent, such as board game stores, comic shops, and small pet stores/groomers. While these relationships are valuable, they often result in sporadic, low-volume orders due to limited liquidity and inventory space.
On a positive note, I recently secured shelf space in my local chain of Ace Hardware stores, which is a step in the right direction, albeit it took over a year to accomplish.
Now, I'm reaching out for help. Neither myself nor anyone in my family has experience in marketing, buying, or selling in the larger wholesale/retail marketplace. While I appreciate the suggestions and advice I've received so far, I'm seeking guidance and mentorship from someone with relevant experience who can continue to help grow this former passion project.
Any advice or connections would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your support!
2024.03.17 14:11 Key_Squash_4403 Shazam Fury of the Gods was perfectly fine
It was not the wholesale disaster the critics and the internet made it out to be. It was simply the victim of a horribly mismanaged studio that was dying. People smelled blood in the water and the narrative that every single final film from DCEU was this unfixable turd was too hard for people to pass up.
It was completely consistent with the first film’s tone. The plot was actually very enjoyable. The performances were all great. Had the rest of the DCEU been a success nobody would’ve batted an eye at this movie. The only thing I truly “blame” on the filmmakers was not using a comic book villain. Which for all we know was a studio mandate, and they still succeeded despite that in my opinion.
It also appears to be a victim of hate towards Zachary Levi. A combination of his behavior during some interviews and posts of his that were taken way out of context. Add a dash of people hating on him for his religious beliefs and assumed politics. Dude’s been a Christian forever, it’s not hard to guess what his feelings are about things, so acting surprised about it was stupid on everyone else’s part.
All in all the movie is fine, it sucks there won’t be a third. Oh well.
submitted by Key_Squash_4403 to TrueUnpopularOpinion [link] [comments]
It was completely consistent with the first film’s tone. The plot was actually very enjoyable. The performances were all great. Had the rest of the DCEU been a success nobody would’ve batted an eye at this movie. The only thing I truly “blame” on the filmmakers was not using a comic book villain. Which for all we know was a studio mandate, and they still succeeded despite that in my opinion.
It also appears to be a victim of hate towards Zachary Levi. A combination of his behavior during some interviews and posts of his that were taken way out of context. Add a dash of people hating on him for his religious beliefs and assumed politics. Dude’s been a Christian forever, it’s not hard to guess what his feelings are about things, so acting surprised about it was stupid on everyone else’s part.
All in all the movie is fine, it sucks there won’t be a third. Oh well.
2024.03.17 01:00 Logic_Sandwich JoJo's Bizarre OC Tournament #7: R2M1 - Pluto Hendrixx vs Jyotsna Mathur
Emotions light a person like a burning flame. The fires of anger and passion burn brighter than most, and are often confused for one another. To hold one's passion close to the chest, to keep their love to themselves is fine, but the fire of passion needs fuel to burn.
The ignition does not matter, it could be something as simple as a blossoming relationship, a new favorite thing, or a place that one truly loves. The only thing that truly matters is the feeling you get in your chest each time you observe that flame.
When you share this flame with others, do they feel the same? Do they understand that fire, and how it burns?
The closer that flame is to your chest, the more likely it is to burn you, and those around you, as it turns to anger.
The flame consumes all, and leaves nothing, until it dies. Can you meter your flame, or will you let it consume you?
ACT 4 — Thy Love is RUIN
Scenario: (One of) Sing Now!’s Mansions, Reshmerasta — 12:43 PM
“Ms. Mathur…” Sing Now! stated confidently, his voice slow and smooth. “With a little time and a little money, my entourage and I can make all of this disappear.”
Recently, things hadn’t been going all that well for Jyotsna Mathur. With the recent reveal of Dead City Haunts’ outing of Goldfinger from his public post as CEO (and by extension, their true nature as a potential criminal outfit) to the masses, the Overcome Foundation has been in dire straits. Donations had hit an all-time low since the charity’s founding; there had even been calls by the public to have its members investigated and imprisoned. It was only by the grace of good fortune that the scandal hadn’t spread enough to cause the complete collapse of the organization in the first place.
Things were getting to the point that Jyotsna needed help, and nobody understood public relations and the media better than the CEO of Night Train. The thought of collaborating with an alleged member of the Metropolis Suite didn’t have her jumping for joy, but he was useful to her at this moment, and she didn’t have much of a choice. If anything, Jyotsna reasoned that this deal would better let her savor the moment she inevitably betrayed him.
“Just get to the point, Now!.” Jyotsna demanded, lounging back on some ungodly expensive couch. They were seated in the lobby of one of his many mansions, surrounded by the aesthetics of traditional Indian luxury. The man had a fondness for the style, and it gave him a noble air whenever he walked amongst his highly decorated halls. Right now, Sing sat on another couch facing Jyotsna, a luxurious golden coffee table between them. One the other two sides of the table were two more identical couches, holding other bodies.
“Time is money,” Jyotsna continued, “and I’ve already fucking wasted enough of both. Just tell me how much it’ll cost and what it’ll take so I can get the hell out.”
Sing Now! sighed. Nobody had any manners anymore, especially not these young people. He had originally winced when Xenagoras wouldn’t shut up about it a few years back, but now he couldn’t have agreed more. “I’ll set the bar at about 82,942,000 Rupees.” He replied. “This will require multiple PR firms, news outlets, public events…we’re essentially rewriting history. That never comes cheap.”
Jyotsna’s brow furrowed as she scowled, showing her fangs. “Tch.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she leaned her head back. “You think I’d be coming to you if I could just throw around that kind of cash? You think I piss gold?”
“...Then how about we negotiate alternative forms of payment?”
The first, sitting directly to his right next to him, was Ichi Ni San Go. She was statuesque in appearance, utterly flawless and possessed of rock solid features—she shone with the same kind of mineral beauty as a finely cut gem, not to mention she was tall as hell. Pluto didn’t really know what to make of her. When he first saw her, his brain immediately took her as some high society femme-fatale.
It was an illusion he soon saw corrected.
She kind of creeped him out sometimes, swapping between childlike innocence and an almost cold and extraterrestrial kind of eccentricity. As he watched her, she was busying herself with crayon drawings of baby dolphins and other cartoonish figures in various states of cartoon violence, subject to bloodless good fun that they were preforming on each other with saws and pipes. It reminded him of the stuff he used to watch when he was a kid back in the early 90s; kids loved violence (himself included), and she was pretty kid-like.
A wide smile was plastered on her face as she hummed songs off-tune. He didn’t really pay her “off”-ness much mind after a bit of exposure—he just assumed she had some kind of condition. Wasn’t really her fault, was it?
Sitting next to her was Shrivya Mukhopadhyay—a bureaucrat in Night Train whom Sing Now! offered an extremely generous raise to become Ichi’s caretaker whenever he couldn’t be assed to look after her. Fortunately for her bank account and unfortunately for the overall family dynamic, he couldn’t be assed about ninety-five percent of his waking hours.
She, to Pluto’s joy, was actually a beautiful bombshell. She was dark skinned and clearly of Indian decent, her long dark hair put into a ponytail. Fringes of hair fell on the side of her face, bordering it and the thin half-rim glasses she wore. Her outfit was professional, easy—a darkly colored button down covered in an eccentric pattern of brushes and closed eyes alongside long bell bottoms. Even if she wasn’t Ichi’s actual parent, she seemed to care for her much more than Sing Now! ever did. Not that it was a high bar.
“And what’s this you’re drawing, sweetheart?” Shrivya asked in a motherly tone, pointing down at Ichi’s work. “Are these those baby dolphins you were telling me about?”
“Yeah!” Ichi replied, a toothy grin displaying her general enthusiasm. “That’s Darryl! He’s on a grill in this one ‘cuz he’s being cooked up, and that’s why Sherry has this barbeque sauce here…” She elaborated, beginning to go through the various little pages she had drawn over. Shrivya responded with oohs, ahs, and the occasional “You’re so creative!”, providing a warmth to the room that Pluto could appreciate.
He nodded his head at her, getting her attention with a quick “Hey. Ichi.” She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and inquisitive. “You ever watch Kill Bill?”
“Uuuhhhmmm… I don’t know what that is.” She said, her hands clasped as she swayed back and forth slightly. Pluto smiled at the answer. “Well, would you wanna find-”
“She’s not watching Kill Bill.” Shrivya interrupted sternly. “She already sees more than enough violence with how things are nowadays. She doesn’t need any more shoved in that head of hers.” She said, ruffling Ichi’s hair for emphasis.
Pluto put his hands up in a friendly manner, giving her a smile. “Just an idea, miss~! Just looking out for her. If it’s been boring for me, it’s probably been way worse for her. You know how it is when you’re…” He paused. She wasn’t really a kid, even if it was easy to forget and treat her that way- at least for most people. “…Being dragged along into shit.”
He looked away and scratched his chin a bit. He did have one trick up his sleeve that never failed him. “Ichi. Watch this.” Reaching towards her, Pluto put his hand under the right sideof her hair…and seemingly pulled a two Rupee coin out. “Pulled a coin out from your ear. Magic trick.”
Her eyes immediately widened as she started clapping and bouncing. “Woooooooaaaaahhh! That’s so so so so so so cooooooool! How did you do that!?” She said, stars of wonderment sparkling across her eyes. “Can you make five Rupee coins? Or ten? Or-or-or one hundred?”
Pluto chuckled. “A magician never reveals his secrets, man! That’s where the magic comes from.” He said in a smooth tone, putting a finger up against his temple knowingly. Ichi just clapped a little again, clearly absolutely delighted. Shrivya was happy enough with Ichi’s happiness, satisfied that Pluto managed to make a positive impact on the situation.
“So we’ve come to an agreement, then?”
“We better!”
The voices of Jyotsna and Sing Now! caught everyone’s attention as they finally resolved their differences, the two of them standing up and walking away from their seats. Sing Now! stood by the arm of his side’s couch, tightening his tie and slicking his hair back to freshen up a bit after an undoubtedly trying meeting. Jyotsna merely cracked her neck and started to swagger her way to the front door.
Ichi immediately jumped to her feet, her heels clacking on the wooden floor as she quickly made her way over to her father. Shrivya’s eyes went wide, a bead of sweat appearing on her forehead as she tried to slow her down. “H-Honey, wait!”
“Daddyyyyy! Daddydaddydaddy!” She said excitedly. It was almost comical how much taller she was then Sing—or how little they resembled each other in any way. Pluto looked on, making a mental note of it—it was only now he realized that Ichi was as white as a sheet. He figured whether or not she was adopted was none of his business, and just cracked his back as he prepared to get up himself. Ichi was barraging Sing with questions and ideas, Shrivya trying her best to practically pull her away with an increasingly frantic tone.
“Can Miss Mathur come back soon? I really like her and I really really wanna watch cartoons and drink chocolate milk and play with her!”
“Ms. Mathur is not coming back, no.” Sing Now! replied tersely. Every response he gave displayed more irritation.
Shrivya gave a small, nervous statement of her own. “Ichi, just come with me! I’ll-I’ll make you dinner and we can move on with the rest of your day, o-okay~?” She said, stuttering from sheer anxiety.
“Aww, please? Pleasepleaseplease! I promise I’ll be really goo-”
“No. If anything, you should be spending the rest of the night honing your singing capabilities. I have another party to host this month, and I do not expect anything less than every eye being upon you. Do you remember what happened the last time you disappointed me?”
Ichi went stiff, immediately stepping back and crossing her arms. She looked away from him, tears in her eyes. She deflated like a broken tire in the span of a second, almost on the verge of tears.”I…I’m sorry. Father.”
Sing Now! merely sighed and checked his watch. “That’s better. Just don’t forget that apologies mean nothing. I care about performance. Stop acting idiotic and do what you know you should be.”
He took a step away, stopping when he heard Ichi speak again. It was tiny, barely above the cadence of a mouse. “...Can Mr. Hendrixx stay?”
Things seemed tense, and Pluto felt kind of bad for Ichi. Whatever was up with her aside, he was getting a positively awful read on her relationship with her father—he didn’t even bother to hide it. He figured he could at least bum off of Sing’s mansion if he stuck around—casually raid the fridge or wine cellar, sit on a luxurious couch, relax a little. Why not try and lighten the atmosphere a bit for someone who actually liked him?
He chuckled. “I won’t even ask for that much extra pay~!” After a second of thought, he decided that was more of a half-joke then a full-on kid. “Can’t hurt, can it-”
He was interrupted by a blur of motion on Sing Now!’s part. He hopped his cane into the air, letting go for it for a second as it spun so he could grasp the bottom end of it. He swung it through the air, the heavy metal handle impacting Ichi right in the side of the head with a heavy crack. There was a small spray of blood as it broke the skin, some of it impacting Pluto’s cheek in a crimson line.
“Fuck’s sake!” Pluto practically screamed, taken completely off guard. He jumped so hard he almost fell off the back of the couch.
Sing Now! looked livid, staring down at her as the impact knocked her off balance. “You wretched, wretched thing. Can you not spend a single day, a single minute without making a mockery of my time? You are quite lucky I’m in a merciful mood, lest I be forced to invent some creative new punishment for you yet again.” His tone was frustrated, as if his cruelty was an obligation she had managed to force upon his shoulders. A monstrousness she had somehow earned fair and square. “You’ve burdened me and everyone else in this room through your presence. Go and make some use of it before we collectively grow tired of you for good.”
Across the room, Jyotsna’s hand was on the handle of the heavy wooden entrance door when that crack reached her ear. Her head turned, and all she saw was Ichi falling to the floor, clutching the side of her face as she tried to pull herself back off the coffee table. Shrivya stood nearby, clutching her arms and looking away with a pained expression.
A vein bulged from Jyotsna’s temple. Her teeth bared. “That’s e-fucking-nough!”
Sing Now! whirled around. His eyes didn’t see his guest at first—until he looked upwards. “I could handle your stupid piddling fancypants shit and I could handle your idiot fucking business…”
Jyotsna had launched herself into the air, barreling straight towards him. A giant fist formed from her fog was reeled back behind her, misting off from where her shoulder ought to be. Pluto saw her heading his way like a meteor, and made a decision in his head. He had been paid in advance—he could just let it happen and sneak off. He didn’t have much love for the media mogul, certainly not after the actual child abuse Pluto was just witness to. She fell at Sing, swinging it straight into his torso.
“But I’m drawing the line at this, dipshit!”
There was a deep thud as it was smashed straight into his sternum. He coughed blood, impacting the floor and bouncing into the couch behind him. It fell over, and he was sent rolling a solid few meters. Jyotsna had already been on the edge with this guy, but this jumped straight over that edge. She had some decency—and she couldn’t stand the sight of this kind of cruelty.
He eventually came to a stop, splayed across the floor. He pulled himself up, looking up at his assailant and everyone standing near. His eyes darted to Pluto, fury across his features.
“Sorry. Didn’t have enough time to react.” Pluto replied nonchalantly. Jyotsna just gave him a dark grin, raising that oversized fist as she prepared to strike again.
He scrambled away, falling onto his back as he crawled. “Ms. Mukhopadhyay! If you don’t neutralize those two right here and now I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted for every position above minimum wage!”
The woman froze. She looked down at Ichi, then at Jyotsna. “I’m… I’m very sorry.”
A massive mechanical Stand rose from her body, topheavy and gorilla-like. It resembled some kind of walking VCR tape, headless and with whirling rolls and gears splayed across the front. It reached a mighty three-fingered hand towards Jyotsna, grabbing her by the ankles and picking her up.
“Shit!” she shouted. “I’m giving you one chance to let go, before I-”
The Stand’s other hand pressed down into her head, crushing her into the robotic palm of the other hand. She resisted as hard as she could, but on contact the Stand changed something about her. The effect almost hurt her eye when she inspected it, some kind of outline forming across her body as the colors flattened out, her body and her clothes shifting into something strange.
With one more mighty press of its hands, she was compressed fully between them. When they let go, Jyotsna sprung back into shape—an unfamiliar one. She was long, conical, a bit larger on one end. She couldn’t move her limbs because she didn’t have any- her features resembled more flat planes of color painted onto a shape. Her face, plastered flat across new form, shriveled with rage when she had realized what happened.
“...You turned me into a fucking baseball bat?!”
The Stand reeled her back, and sent her flying at Pluto (who could hear a “Gyaaaaa!” from the woman turned weapon as she was swung). He only had time for a “That’s not good.” before Jyotsna’s surface slammed into him. He manifested ｢My Collection｣, raising his stand’s arms to block the blow. The couch he was sitting on cracked in half from the impact, the force sending him flying even as he was relatively unharmed. He landed somewhat on his feet, fairly off balance.
Shrivya could barely look at him. Shame was evident in her features, even as her stand’s arm grabbed at the blunt end of Jyotsna’s current form and bent her into herself, muffling her as she was tied into a knot and compressed. Pluto entered a battle stance, his stand floating behind him. He could hear Jyotsna hurl all sorts of threats and obscenities at his assailant even as that massive stand idly and repeatedly threw up in the air. She was now very firmly in the shape of a ball, a sight that Pluto had to stop himself from chuckling at.
“I don’t know what your story is, lady.” He said, trying to be diplomatic. “But you have a chance to walk away.”
She still refused to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hendrixx. I don’t.”
Her stand pulled it’s huge arm back, gripping Jyotsna tightly as it stored power within itself. In one mighty motion, it threw her at mach speeds- sending her spinning through the air like a cannonball straight towards Pluto. This time, he really didn’t have the time to react.
As the two made impact, their worlds went black.
She finally had a chance to look down at herself. She grimaced as she realized that whatever Stand power she was under was still well in effect, and it still tempted her eyes to strain. She looked flat. Everything about her looked fake, artistically exaggerated—more a collection of colors and shapes then a full 3D object. Like a piece of artwork.
She groaned as she collected the dots. She got turned into a fucking cartoon.
“Stupid bitch,” Jyostna grumbled, feeling her chest grow tight with stress. “Turn me into a baseball bat. Absolutely humiliating. Make me into some Merry Melodies lookin’ thing… When I get my hands on her, I’ll-”
She interrupted herself as a colorful pastel blast of multi-colored fog erupted from her mouth as it took on an inorganic seeming ∩ shape- evoking the steam whistle of a train. It even made a heavy Vvvvvrrrrr! that caused her to immediately clasp her hand over her mouth, eliciting a blush of embarrassment. As her face turned red, that same fog shot from her ears with a slightly higher pitch.
“Ugh!” She looked down, experimenting around with her new form for a bit- staring at her outline and only barely escaping a mild headache. She grabbed at her face a bit, stretching and contorting it before eventually just grabbing it wholesale and trying to pull it as far as she could. She let it snap back, like earlier—although her features were all mixed up across her visage. She shook her head, turning it back to normal.
Looking in a nearby mirror hung up on the wall, she tried out some expressions, if just to get a little more used to the Stand effect: furiously angry with some wavy lines sizzling over her head, a wide smile (which she stopped once her eye started to sparkle), and others of the like. She looked around, seeing if anybody was around—it didn’t seem so. She seemed to just be in another extravagantly decorated lobby, with all kinds of murals decorating the walls. There was even a bottle of wine sitting on a table, as if waiting for some surprise visit.
“I’m delighted you’ve decided to stayyy, Miss Mathur~!”
A hand on her shoulder and a low voice whispered into her ear caused her to swear, her eye (and flower) jumping out from her head as she yelled. She could hear her heart beat in her ears, and she saw it quite literally bump from her chest when she looked down—pushing the cartoonish shape of it back inside her with her left hand. When she looked back, it was none other then Ichi Ni San who had managed to surprise her, staring at her with a sickly smile. Her hair only barely covered the mark from her altercation with her father.
“Miss Mukhopadhyay said you wanted so stick around and put on a show for meeee~! I do oh so love entertainment!” Ichi crooned. Her body language was distinctively different, her head held high. It was the other “mood” she had when she wasn’t almost disturbingly innocent, a sort of confident eccentricity. A hand on her hip, Ichi reached over and pinched Jyotsna’s cheek. “You just look adorable like this~!”
“Let go of me, you $%&—” She said, before holding herself back. Part of it was out of shock, whatever swear she would’ve said replaced with some bizarre boinging noise. The other was from actual reticence- she didn’t want to scream at the woman; she had just watched Sing Now! beat her with his cane, and given her childlike demeanor she’d feel a bit awful regardless if she made her cry. Instead, she just roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand off of her face, her cheek stretching with a rubbery noise before snapping back. “I am not cute. Do you know where that jackass in the glasses is?”
She interrupted by the sound of something shattering behind her. Sculptures of ice had been roughly thrown onto the floor. Another had been hurled, sliding peacefully on its base and impacting a couch. Following that was Pluto, who had been put under the Stand’s effect himself. He had been tied into a knot in a rather exaggerated manner, rolling across the floor before slowly untying himself. His transformation has exaggerated his build, rendering him rather “noodly” to Jyotsna, thin and bendy and tall. Jyotsna made note that if the light hit his jewelry just right, she could hear a small twinkling noise from an exaggerated shine.
“You look like a cigarette,” she jabbed, a toothy grin on her face.
Pluto finished unknotting himself, loudly cracking his neck in a rolling motion. He looked up and down at Jyotsna, purviewing her own changes. “Pretty sure you got shorter.” She fumed a little. She thought things looked a little off.
“I’m sorry to hold you here like this.” A familiar voice said to Jyotsna’s left: Shrivya. She immediately sprung into motion, readying a fist with a “You little-!” as she charged towards her. She swung her fist back, before landing face-first into a wall; the impact flattening her out. She peeled herself off, popping back into shape. She gazed in shock at the wall, seeing that she was standing in a tunnel that had been painted directly onto the wall with the mural. The sight caused Ichi to giggle and clap.
“You gotta be %$&# kidding me.”
“Mr. Now! expects me to have killed you two, but…” Shrivya said, tightly gripping her arm. “Some things are just too far. If I let you two go, he’d see, and then he’d…” She bit her lip. “His reach extends far beyond just Night Train. I’d never be able to get another job in the country, maybe the continent. I…I have to keep you two here for a while. I…I figured if I didn’t have a choice, I could ask you two for a favor while I’m here.”
Pluto pulled himself to his feet, looking at her through the mural. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to do anything for you right now. I look like I popped out of a Nicktoon, for christ’s sake.” He wiggled his arm unnaturally for emphasis. “I do not think I have it in me to work the Squidward look, and that’s besides keeping us hostage.”
“I’ll make sure you’re both handsomely rewarded. Sing Now! is too busy and frankly too complacent with heavy delegation to keep perfect track of his pocketbooks. I could slip more than enough under his nose without him noticing.” She bargained.
“...What’s the favor?” asked Jyotsna. “...How much?” asked Pluto.
“...I just need you to help lift Ichi’s spirits. Keep her entertained. I already get paid more than enough myself, but the treatment she endures daily…It’s monstrous. I can’t even do anything about it, considering her father is one of the most powerful men in the city. I just want her to have a fun night.” She turned to Pluto. “And I can give you a max of 165,920,000 Rupees. Any more, and Sing will notice.”
Jyotsna clearly thought about it in her head, her noggin audibly making the noise of a receipt printer as she considered the offer. Pluto kind of stood there awkwardly. “That’s about two million USD.”
He shot forward, giving a thumbs up motion as he did so. There was a Ch-ching! as his eyes transformed into green dollar signs now that ludicrous amounts of money had entered the equation. “$&% it, why not!”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll go for it.” Said Jyotsna.
“Yay!” Ichi exclaimed from behind her, clearly overjoyed that her two new friends were staying over for the night even after her father said no. Jyotsna had reasoned it out in her head: The deal with Sing Now! was obviously off given that she’d (hopefully) reupholstered the old man’s sternum. If he wanted 82,942,000 to fix the Overcome Foundation’s reputation, and that was going to go towards the work needed (especially assuming he had likely inflated the price to take a big slice for himself), she could fix it herself and more with that kind of cash.
Besides, Jyotsna liked kids—Ichi wasn’t really a kid, but it was close enough, right? It’d help her get out of her shitty mood. “I’ve got some stress I need to work out—I think I’m in the mood for some physical comedy,” She said, a dark expression on her face.
Pluto gave her a wry look. “*&$, may as well. Never fought a cartoon before, and I’m not gonna miss a once-in-a-lifetime chance.” He loved to fight, if it was an opponent worth fighting- and it’s hard not to consider someone worth fighting if he’s getting two million from it, win or lose.
Jyotsna’s teeth gleamed in the light of the mansion, her fist transforming into multicolored fog. “Good.” She said, eager to go. ｢My Collection｣ floated behind Pluto, arms crossed. Pluto gave a small chuckle. “Don’t bore me now.”
Ichi looked over at Shrivya, still in the mural. “Can I say it? Can I say it?” She begged.
“Of course you can, honey!” Shrivya responded warmly.
Ichi squeaked happily before clasping her hands and look over at her two guests.
“Open the game~!”
(Credit to u/tomatobruschetta for the match art!)
There are two floors and a lawn outside. The lawn has a shed filled with a wide variety of tools and equipment for mowing the lawn as well as a chainsaw, a croquet set, and several bags of charcoal. Outside is a gleaming grill. There are two doors in, one leading to the conservatory, and the other to a hall.
The conservatory (green floor) has windows, and is filled with beautiful, flowering plants in all variety of pots and boxes, with tools to handle them scattered around. The hall is filled with closets to store hats, jackets, cane, and one with a fold-out ironing board.
Further inside, there is a kitchen and parlor. The kitchen (checkered floor) has gleaming appliances and several cupboards full of various cooking supplies, with a massive pantry. The parlor (blue floor) contains a table and luxurious couch, with the walls filled with pictures and conversation pieces. Several instruments (grand piano, harp, string instruments, trumpets, etc) are found in here as well.
On the second floor, the loft (teal floor) stands 6m above the main room, with several chairs overlooking the couch below and a full bar set up against a wall. The only door leads into the master bedroom (purple floor), which contains several massive wardrobes, a walk in closet, and the one and only bathroom in the house (pink floor).
There is about what you would expect to be in each room in excess; you can easily justify a french horn or a tuba in the parlor, or multiple sets of golf clubs in the shed outside. Just don’t go overboard; if there is anything you’re unsure of or that might be borederline, please ask.
Goal: RETIRE your opponents!
Additional Information:
Each player is under the effect of an ability that renders the rules of engagement under slapstick logic- think of a similar energy to The Pink Panther, Tom & Jerry, or the Oingo Boingo Brothers arc from Part 3. Fundamentally, it acts as a Durability boost, rendering normally lethal hits as merely dangerous, while more flashy, ‘hijinks’ based attacks are more likely to work. While this might change the individual tactics and plays, the same core logic of a deathmatch applies: hit your opponent until they stop trying to hit you.
While this does add partial cartoon logic, this does NOT mean that these can be used to freely no-sell hits your opponents land and rewrite reality to do whatever you want. That would make a poor cartoon after all. Instead, this changes the rules of cause and effect- if Jyotsna were to try and tie up Pluto’s arm into a knot, she would not break all of the bones of his arm in the effort. If Pluto were to hit Jyotsna with his Stands’ heat hands, she would be lit on fire and have to put it out instead of being melted. If Pluto were to freeze Jyotsna, she could be shattered, but with time literally put herself back together. If Jyotsna were to slam Pluto with a piano, instead of being killed, the piano lid would creak open, revealing him instead dazed and significantly bruised.
Meanwhile, a good old Three Stooges eye poke will have just as much effect as you’d think it would.
In essence, this allows players to play rough with each other without having to worry about long term medical complications or tonal dissonance in order to focus on having fun and making a show out of it. Since each player has high Endurance and boosted Durability, mechanically focus more on what would make sense for a ‘sillier’ fight in Jojo proper; Boingo, for example, got blown up by a bomb in an orange.
Keep in mind that for the purposes of Judge Categories, attempting to cheese out the stage hazard and figuring out edge cases to lock your opponent out of the match will be heavily punished.
The house the match takes place in is outright unlivable, and Sing Now! fired his architect at the time on the spot. The only reason he hasn’t flipped it on one of his ‘friends’ is pride.
| Team | Combatant | JoJolity |
|---|---|---|
| Heart of the Rose | Pluto Hendrixx | “Oh, it's all right. I'm sure we can handle this situation maturely, just like the responsible adults that we are. Isn't that right, Mr. Poopy Pants?” Ichi isn’t really an actual child, but she’s got the sensibilities of one. It shouldn’t be too hard to make her laugh, yeah? Be funny and entertain! |
| Dead City Haunts | Jyotsna Mathur | “That does it!” You could conjure all sorts of reasons to make Ichi giggle, but at the end of the day it’s out of the goodness of your heart. Doesn’t mean you can’t savor the revenge that is making her like you more than she does Sing Now!. Be funny and entertain! |
Link to Match Schedule
2024.03.16 10:21 PhantomDMR Two Legbeards, One Nest - The Beginning
Hello, Reddx crew! A while ago, Red mentioned that we don’t spend a lot of time looking into the phenomenon of legbeard nests, and I realized that I, unfortunately, probably had a few stories under my belt that could shed light on this mostly unexplored phenomenon. From both the experience of being a legbeard and from living with another legbeard. I figured we could explore together the phenomenon of what happens when two chronically depressed women live together for the better part of eight years.
For science.
For tendie coins.
For group therapy.
I’ve wanted to be a novelist for most of my life, so I’m just going to forego the cast list, story tell this situation, and introduce any characters as they show up as it’s relevant. I can never keep people straight with a cast list when I’m listening to these stories, and if it’s my story, we’re going to tell it my way.
Without further ado, let’s get into the story!
My name is Danica and I am currently a 39-year-old woman living in a medium sized town in California. This story will chronicle some of the experiences that I had in my twenties and early thirties as a legbeard living with another, slightly older legbeard. At the time of the story’s start, I stood 5’5”, weighed about 140 lbs, and had long brown hair that reached my waist. I have hazel eyes and a penchant for over-dressing for all occasions, almost always being in a skirt or dress, wearing a full face of makeup, and being in high heels. To this day, I don’t leave my house without a cat eye and at least a 3-inch heel.
When I was twenty, I started my second ever job listing industrial spare parts on eBay. A local company that sold items wholesale to stores across the country had a side hustle where they would buy parts from a nearby airforce base and resell those items on eBay. At the time of interviewing for this position, I worked as a waitress at my local Denny’s and I listed books for my parents on Amazon for their online 3rd party book business. On my parent’s side of things, my mom worked for a local newspaper company and my dad was retired due to complications with emphysema. My mom decided she wanted to clean off her bookshelves one day to get rid of the books she no longer read, and as she sold them, my father saw that this could be a fairly lucrative business for them to run together. Starting from the time I was about 16, they started selling books on eBay, Amazon, and half.com, getting their product from garage sales, swap meets, and local friends of the library book sales.
They roped me into helping them with this venture from the time they started it, so I felt fairly confident about my abilities to be able to list parts on eBay for this local company when I realized I needed to escape Denny’s and find a new base of employment. I’ve written a few Reddit stories about my adventures in waitressing and would be happy to crosspost some “tales from your server” if anyone is interested in that side adventure.The long and short of it, waitressing sucks and I needed to get out of that situation.
I interviewed for the job, showing up at a non-descript business with no visible markers for it from the street, on a wooden bench on a stair landing to the street with saloon style swinging doors to the right of me and a mural depicting a fantasy landscape with a tiny, purple dragon being its main character to my left. The owner of the business, let’s call him Robert, was an older man in his late fifties or early sixties. He wore black jeans, a blue stetson shirt, a black vest, and heavy, black work boots. He had his long gray pulled back into a ponytail that rested over his shoulder blades, and a thick gray mustache rested over his lip.
He spoke quickly in the interview, asking me of my knowledge of many subjects that were not limited to the task of eBay listings. Political leanings. What I was studying at school. World War II knowledge. It’s been nearly twenty years, I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember feeling like I was in the crossfire during that conversation, completely unprepared for the whirlwind of topics and strong personality that I faced down and not wholly convinced I didn’t sound like an idiot as I tried to hold my own in the conversation.
At the end of a half an hour, he finally said, “well, the job is between you and another person, and I like you better than that guy. How much notice would you have to give your current employer?”
I told him the customary two weeks, positively brimming with excitement over the possibility of escaping my waitressing hell. My self-confidence, was, and is, pretty shit. I didn’t think that I could get a better job than I currently had, I didn’t think I was smart enough for it, talented enough for it, worthy enough for it.
With the answer of my two week notice, Robert hired me on the spot.
I had no idea at the time how much starting this job would change my life. In many ways, I am extremely grateful for the 9.5 years that I worked for them. The company saw me through many of the worst experiences of my life and taught me how to be a better, stronger, person. They became a second family, one that I celebrated more than a few holidays with.
The job, and the family, also brought out the absolute worst in me. As low as my self-confidence was when I started with them, it was so much lower when I left almost a decade later.
I worked the job part time for the first two weeks while going to our local community college and still balancing my Denny’s hours.
Robert was the owner of the company, and his daughter, Kelly, acted as the general manager. It is at this time, ladies and gentlemen, that I introduce you to the second legbeard of this story. Kelly was around 28 when I first got hired to work for her family’s business. She stood 5’11” tall with shoulder length grown hair, brown eyes, and weighed around 200 lbs. She often wore band t-shirts, colorful and patterned knee high socks, a bandana on her head, jean skirts, and black ballet flats.
When I first started for the company, I had a small desk directly on the other side of the white, chipped saloon doors, and Kelly had a desk about 10 ft behind me.
My job description was to:
It took a lot more time for Kelly to begin to interact with me. Her attention was split between the online business that I worked for and her responsibilities as the manager of one of the owner’s three retail businesses in town. The business that I worked at was almost not known in our town, but the other three were local institutions.
It often felt like I was on an island by myself in those early days. Everyone else in the company worked on the company’s actual website; I was the only employee dedicated to the owner’s side interest of random industrial parts he could buy from the airforce base and from the local university.
Over the next year though, Kelly would soften towards me, and would give me her own side projects to work on, namely listing the company’s products on Amazon and eBay. She became someone I truly looked up to and respected. She had a magnetic personality, vivacious and, as she called it, delightful. I wanted her to like me nearly as much as I liked her.
In one particularly cringey move on my part, I made her a dessert for her 29th birthday. I’d been at the company for about a year at that point and desperately wanted her approval. I made her a faux tiramisu from angel food cake, vanilla pudding, amaretto coffee, and whipped cream.
She seemed so unimpressed and disinterested in my efforts that it crushed my soul.
I had no idea at the time that she rarely ate any meals outside of dinner and that presenting her a dessert wouldn’t be the way to win her approval.
About a month or so later, I had a falling out with my dad. I still lived at home at the time, the textbook example of Peter Pan Syndrome. I never wanted to grow up. I didn’t want to pay bills. I didn’t want to live on my own. I didn’t want a job. I never wanted to drive. I didn’t want responsibility. I just wanted to sit in my bedroom and write and escape into the worlds that I created.
I don’t know what started the fight between my dad and I. There never needed to be a real reason for him to start yelling at anyone in the family. If you looked at him wrong, the man would blow a gasket. And I had a tendency to often look at him wrong. The cause for our argument had something to do with me still living at home, for he screamed at me, “if you’re so unhappy living here, you can move out! Nobody wants you here!”
There are some moments that are just burned into your psyche, that you hear even in your sleep.
He screamed this at me while I was getting ready for work. I drove myself the couple of miles to work, crying while I clocked in on the comically antiquated punch walk clock, a hysterical mess, tears streaming down my face while I struggled to come to terms that my dad didn’t consider me wanted in my family.
We’d had a strained relationship most of my life, but I had never felt unwanted by him before.
Kelly intercepted me on my way to my desk and asked me what happened. She towered above me even in the 3-inch heels that I wore. Between my shuddering breaths, I let her know of the fight that I had with my dad, how I needed to get out of that house, and how I didn’t know what to do.
She seemed conflicted for a moment, as if weighing her pros and cons. “Both of my roommates have recently moved out,” she finally said. “I have an open room if you want. The house isn’t much, but it’s not with your dad.”
I nodded, so relieved that magical thinking had procured me a living situation just like that. We agreed that she would take me over to the house later that night and see if I wanted to actually move in with her.
Later that evening, her admission of the house not being much was proven all too real as I got into her car and she drove me the three blocks to her house.
The house was down a short red, brick driveway, tucked behind another house that was split into two units. Kelly explained to me as she parked her red, 1990’s Ford hatchback with a dented front end in a parking space next to the house that her house had originally been a garage for the front house that had been converted into a back house at some point. It made the architecture…interesting. She opened the front door and I laid my eyes for the first time on the first house that she and I would share together.
The common spaces were made up of what once was the garage. A barrier ran vertically down the length of the room, separating out a kitchen and a living room in equal halves. The living room had stained brown carpeting, a beat up wooden coffee table, and a maroon, green, and blue plaid couch that faced into the kitchen. A pile of junk blocked the entrance to a hall closet that stored more of Kelly’s stuff. The wooden table was covered in papers and boxes. To the right of the couch underneath a built in bookshelf and cabinets that was full of Kelly’s items was an old, 1970s style TV. Large and a piece of furniture in its own right.
The shape of the living room made it impossible to have the couch facing the TV. If the couch were to face where the TV was placed, it would spill into the kitchen. Moving the TV would have it in the walkway between the living room and the dining room, and there would be no electrical outlet.
This fatal flaw of a living room layout really highlighted that the main areas of the house were just a garage split down the center with no thought given to functionality.
The kitchen had an offwhite linoleum flooring that looked like it hadn’t been mopped in a while. The small counter space had dishes stacked on it and the sink was full. The stove had some pots and pans on it and the trash can in the center of the room was not quite overflowing onto the floor, but could definitely stand being dumped.
To the right of the kitchen was a small space that had a 1950s style gray dining room table that was covered in more random papers, boxes, and clothing. Behind the table was a second door that led outside to the additional parking spaces.
I took it all in, not sure what I was expecting, but not entirely put off by the situation.
“Sorry it’s messy,” she said as she shut the door behind her, “I wasn’t expecting to show the place today.”
“No worries,” I replied. “I’m not exactly the tidiest person.”
Concern flittered across her face. She would later tell me that she realized that putting two people who weren’t necessarily the tidiest in the same house together had the potential to lead to a very bad situation. She was right to worry about that.
“Both rooms are open right now,” she explained as she crossed the living room and led me to a hallway. “My room is here,” she showed me, gesturing to a closed room that was locked with a deadbolt. “One of my former friends that lived here broke into my room and sold my CDs back to our store,” she said, referencing the used music store her family owned, as she undid the deadbolt. “Since then, I’ve just kept it deadbolted when I’m not home.”
The smell of stale cigarette smoke wafted out of her room as she opened the door. Looking around me, I noticed a litter box at the end of the hallway. I knew that she had a cat and she was aware that I had my own middle-aged calico cat that I would be bringing with me if I moved in with her. A litter box in the hallway was of little concern to me, I’d had a litter box in my bedroom for the past 10 years and was well and truly nose blind to cat smells.
The hallway itself had random items lined up in it next to the walls. Boxes. Shoes. Clothes. Random power tools.
I caught a glimpse of Kelly’s room as she tossed her purse on her unmade queen sized bed. A haze of smoke hung in the air even though she hadn’t been in the room all day. There was a dresser at the foot of her bed that had her TV on top of it and a running series of empty and near empty 40oz bottles of Budlight. There was a small bedside table next to her bed that had a bong, an ashtray, and more 40s in various stages of consumption.
I couldn’t judge, thinking of my own home in my parent’s mobile home. I didn’t drink at the time, but my room was covered in Diet Coke cans, clothing, and trash. I knew what it was like to impromptu have someone in your house and would never judge for it.
If it weren’t for my own beardery and want to leave my parent’s home, the alarm bells would likely have been ringing.
Leaving her room, she led me to a room next door to hers that was at the opposite end of the hall as the litter box. “This is one of the rooms. It mirrors mine. So your closet is there,” she said pointing to a wooden door, “and mine is on the opposite side.”
The room itself was small and had a step down into it. A window was on my right side, the closet to my left. The carpet looked fairly clean and I envisioned where I would put my things. I could make this work.
Pulling my attention away from the room, she led me in the other direction passed the litter box. “The bathroom is here,” she said as she indicated a no frills bathroom with a tub, sink, and toilet. We went down another step and were in a strange sunroom area that only measured about 10’ x 10’. The room had a yellow, 1970s velour armchair, a wicker chair with a pink seat pad, a large 3’ tall blue and yellow lava lamp, and various random other items in it. Kelly continued the tour, “this is the ‘pimp room.’ It’s just a catchall for all of the roommate’s extra stuff that doesn’t fit in their rooms. The benefits of this bedroom,” she said as she gestured to a door off the side of said ‘pimp room,’ “is that it’s closer to the bathroom and you get the bonus of the pimp room. It’s weird to hang out in front of your roommate’s door, so people don’t usually come down here. The third roommate usually takes advantage of this”
I could see that and considered the advantages of the third bedroom as she opened the door. Immediately, I frowned. This room, unlike the other room I had just looked at, was mostly wooden walled and had a very small closet. It was also significantly smaller in size to the other room.
The mobilehome my parents owned had wood paneling in almost every room and I couldn’t stand it. The wood ate any light and was just so depressing. The bonus sunroom off of this third bedroom couldn’t make up for what a wooden room and small closet would do to my mental health.
“I think I like the other room better,” I said as we left the third bedroom. A fat black cat with one good eye and one hazy, dripping eye came into the pimp room and stretched out on the ground. Immediately, I stooped down to pet the baby and inquired about her eye.
“This is Ramona, I named her after a Sublime song. She has eye herpes,” Kelly explained.
I’d never heard of cats getting herpes, let alone eye herpes before. I also didn’t know Sublime. I listened to musicals, 1960s folk rock, and “new rock” like System of a Down and Godsmack.
“It’s not contagious, she just can’t see out of that eye.”
“Poor baby,” I said as I rubbed Ramona’s fat belly and she purred beneath my hand.
“If you’re interested in the room, it’s $433 a month plus utilities. I’m going to put an ad on Craigslist and find another roommate. Everyone can move in starting on the first.”
There are moments that change the course of your life.
“I’m definitely interested,” I said as I looked up from the attention I doted upon Ramona. “It’s so close to work and it would really save me from a bad situation.”
“Great,” she said with a smile as she walked us back to the living room. “Then I’ll just place the ad for the third room. Tony, our landlord, will want the first month and a deposit of the same amount on the first.”
I nodded, feeling the first uncertainty I had during this conversation. $433 was not a lot of money, but I made minimum wage at the time, $6.75 an hour. Having $866 in a couple of weeks was going to be slightly harder to pull.
Still, the benefit of not living with my parents would be worth it.
What could possibly go wrong?
I’ll leave it there for now, folks. Kelly and I lived together for about 8 years in two different houses and we had many a misadventure together before our paths split. I’m hoping I can chronicle some of the good times as well as some of the bad while giving a fair and honest assessment of both of our strengths and failings. It’s important to remember that while I did naively move into a legbeard nest, I am not a blameless victim in what our living situation will become. It is, afterall, Two Legbeards, One Nest.
submitted by PhantomDMR to ReddXReads [link] [comments]
For science.
For tendie coins.
For group therapy.
I’ve wanted to be a novelist for most of my life, so I’m just going to forego the cast list, story tell this situation, and introduce any characters as they show up as it’s relevant. I can never keep people straight with a cast list when I’m listening to these stories, and if it’s my story, we’re going to tell it my way.
Without further ado, let’s get into the story!
My name is Danica and I am currently a 39-year-old woman living in a medium sized town in California. This story will chronicle some of the experiences that I had in my twenties and early thirties as a legbeard living with another, slightly older legbeard. At the time of the story’s start, I stood 5’5”, weighed about 140 lbs, and had long brown hair that reached my waist. I have hazel eyes and a penchant for over-dressing for all occasions, almost always being in a skirt or dress, wearing a full face of makeup, and being in high heels. To this day, I don’t leave my house without a cat eye and at least a 3-inch heel.
When I was twenty, I started my second ever job listing industrial spare parts on eBay. A local company that sold items wholesale to stores across the country had a side hustle where they would buy parts from a nearby airforce base and resell those items on eBay. At the time of interviewing for this position, I worked as a waitress at my local Denny’s and I listed books for my parents on Amazon for their online 3rd party book business. On my parent’s side of things, my mom worked for a local newspaper company and my dad was retired due to complications with emphysema. My mom decided she wanted to clean off her bookshelves one day to get rid of the books she no longer read, and as she sold them, my father saw that this could be a fairly lucrative business for them to run together. Starting from the time I was about 16, they started selling books on eBay, Amazon, and half.com, getting their product from garage sales, swap meets, and local friends of the library book sales.
They roped me into helping them with this venture from the time they started it, so I felt fairly confident about my abilities to be able to list parts on eBay for this local company when I realized I needed to escape Denny’s and find a new base of employment. I’ve written a few Reddit stories about my adventures in waitressing and would be happy to crosspost some “tales from your server” if anyone is interested in that side adventure.The long and short of it, waitressing sucks and I needed to get out of that situation.
I interviewed for the job, showing up at a non-descript business with no visible markers for it from the street, on a wooden bench on a stair landing to the street with saloon style swinging doors to the right of me and a mural depicting a fantasy landscape with a tiny, purple dragon being its main character to my left. The owner of the business, let’s call him Robert, was an older man in his late fifties or early sixties. He wore black jeans, a blue stetson shirt, a black vest, and heavy, black work boots. He had his long gray pulled back into a ponytail that rested over his shoulder blades, and a thick gray mustache rested over his lip.
He spoke quickly in the interview, asking me of my knowledge of many subjects that were not limited to the task of eBay listings. Political leanings. What I was studying at school. World War II knowledge. It’s been nearly twenty years, I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember feeling like I was in the crossfire during that conversation, completely unprepared for the whirlwind of topics and strong personality that I faced down and not wholly convinced I didn’t sound like an idiot as I tried to hold my own in the conversation.
At the end of a half an hour, he finally said, “well, the job is between you and another person, and I like you better than that guy. How much notice would you have to give your current employer?”
I told him the customary two weeks, positively brimming with excitement over the possibility of escaping my waitressing hell. My self-confidence, was, and is, pretty shit. I didn’t think that I could get a better job than I currently had, I didn’t think I was smart enough for it, talented enough for it, worthy enough for it.
With the answer of my two week notice, Robert hired me on the spot.
I had no idea at the time how much starting this job would change my life. In many ways, I am extremely grateful for the 9.5 years that I worked for them. The company saw me through many of the worst experiences of my life and taught me how to be a better, stronger, person. They became a second family, one that I celebrated more than a few holidays with.
The job, and the family, also brought out the absolute worst in me. As low as my self-confidence was when I started with them, it was so much lower when I left almost a decade later.
I worked the job part time for the first two weeks while going to our local community college and still balancing my Denny’s hours.
Robert was the owner of the company, and his daughter, Kelly, acted as the general manager. It is at this time, ladies and gentlemen, that I introduce you to the second legbeard of this story. Kelly was around 28 when I first got hired to work for her family’s business. She stood 5’11” tall with shoulder length grown hair, brown eyes, and weighed around 200 lbs. She often wore band t-shirts, colorful and patterned knee high socks, a bandana on her head, jean skirts, and black ballet flats.
When I first started for the company, I had a small desk directly on the other side of the white, chipped saloon doors, and Kelly had a desk about 10 ft behind me.
My job description was to:
- Locate the cart that has eBay worthy items on it
- Identify what the item was (circuit breaker, valve, airplane wing, some kind of gauge…?) and determine if it had value by researching it online
- Writing up a description in an app called Turbolister to prep the sale
- Getting Robert’s approval for description of items and pricing
- List the items based upon Robert’s improvements
- Manage the sales and relisting of any items from the batch that I created and listed
It took a lot more time for Kelly to begin to interact with me. Her attention was split between the online business that I worked for and her responsibilities as the manager of one of the owner’s three retail businesses in town. The business that I worked at was almost not known in our town, but the other three were local institutions.
It often felt like I was on an island by myself in those early days. Everyone else in the company worked on the company’s actual website; I was the only employee dedicated to the owner’s side interest of random industrial parts he could buy from the airforce base and from the local university.
Over the next year though, Kelly would soften towards me, and would give me her own side projects to work on, namely listing the company’s products on Amazon and eBay. She became someone I truly looked up to and respected. She had a magnetic personality, vivacious and, as she called it, delightful. I wanted her to like me nearly as much as I liked her.
In one particularly cringey move on my part, I made her a dessert for her 29th birthday. I’d been at the company for about a year at that point and desperately wanted her approval. I made her a faux tiramisu from angel food cake, vanilla pudding, amaretto coffee, and whipped cream.
She seemed so unimpressed and disinterested in my efforts that it crushed my soul.
I had no idea at the time that she rarely ate any meals outside of dinner and that presenting her a dessert wouldn’t be the way to win her approval.
About a month or so later, I had a falling out with my dad. I still lived at home at the time, the textbook example of Peter Pan Syndrome. I never wanted to grow up. I didn’t want to pay bills. I didn’t want to live on my own. I didn’t want a job. I never wanted to drive. I didn’t want responsibility. I just wanted to sit in my bedroom and write and escape into the worlds that I created.
I don’t know what started the fight between my dad and I. There never needed to be a real reason for him to start yelling at anyone in the family. If you looked at him wrong, the man would blow a gasket. And I had a tendency to often look at him wrong. The cause for our argument had something to do with me still living at home, for he screamed at me, “if you’re so unhappy living here, you can move out! Nobody wants you here!”
There are some moments that are just burned into your psyche, that you hear even in your sleep.
He screamed this at me while I was getting ready for work. I drove myself the couple of miles to work, crying while I clocked in on the comically antiquated punch walk clock, a hysterical mess, tears streaming down my face while I struggled to come to terms that my dad didn’t consider me wanted in my family.
We’d had a strained relationship most of my life, but I had never felt unwanted by him before.
Kelly intercepted me on my way to my desk and asked me what happened. She towered above me even in the 3-inch heels that I wore. Between my shuddering breaths, I let her know of the fight that I had with my dad, how I needed to get out of that house, and how I didn’t know what to do.
She seemed conflicted for a moment, as if weighing her pros and cons. “Both of my roommates have recently moved out,” she finally said. “I have an open room if you want. The house isn’t much, but it’s not with your dad.”
I nodded, so relieved that magical thinking had procured me a living situation just like that. We agreed that she would take me over to the house later that night and see if I wanted to actually move in with her.
Later that evening, her admission of the house not being much was proven all too real as I got into her car and she drove me the three blocks to her house.
The house was down a short red, brick driveway, tucked behind another house that was split into two units. Kelly explained to me as she parked her red, 1990’s Ford hatchback with a dented front end in a parking space next to the house that her house had originally been a garage for the front house that had been converted into a back house at some point. It made the architecture…interesting. She opened the front door and I laid my eyes for the first time on the first house that she and I would share together.
The common spaces were made up of what once was the garage. A barrier ran vertically down the length of the room, separating out a kitchen and a living room in equal halves. The living room had stained brown carpeting, a beat up wooden coffee table, and a maroon, green, and blue plaid couch that faced into the kitchen. A pile of junk blocked the entrance to a hall closet that stored more of Kelly’s stuff. The wooden table was covered in papers and boxes. To the right of the couch underneath a built in bookshelf and cabinets that was full of Kelly’s items was an old, 1970s style TV. Large and a piece of furniture in its own right.
The shape of the living room made it impossible to have the couch facing the TV. If the couch were to face where the TV was placed, it would spill into the kitchen. Moving the TV would have it in the walkway between the living room and the dining room, and there would be no electrical outlet.
This fatal flaw of a living room layout really highlighted that the main areas of the house were just a garage split down the center with no thought given to functionality.
The kitchen had an offwhite linoleum flooring that looked like it hadn’t been mopped in a while. The small counter space had dishes stacked on it and the sink was full. The stove had some pots and pans on it and the trash can in the center of the room was not quite overflowing onto the floor, but could definitely stand being dumped.
To the right of the kitchen was a small space that had a 1950s style gray dining room table that was covered in more random papers, boxes, and clothing. Behind the table was a second door that led outside to the additional parking spaces.
I took it all in, not sure what I was expecting, but not entirely put off by the situation.
“Sorry it’s messy,” she said as she shut the door behind her, “I wasn’t expecting to show the place today.”
“No worries,” I replied. “I’m not exactly the tidiest person.”
Concern flittered across her face. She would later tell me that she realized that putting two people who weren’t necessarily the tidiest in the same house together had the potential to lead to a very bad situation. She was right to worry about that.
“Both rooms are open right now,” she explained as she crossed the living room and led me to a hallway. “My room is here,” she showed me, gesturing to a closed room that was locked with a deadbolt. “One of my former friends that lived here broke into my room and sold my CDs back to our store,” she said, referencing the used music store her family owned, as she undid the deadbolt. “Since then, I’ve just kept it deadbolted when I’m not home.”
The smell of stale cigarette smoke wafted out of her room as she opened the door. Looking around me, I noticed a litter box at the end of the hallway. I knew that she had a cat and she was aware that I had my own middle-aged calico cat that I would be bringing with me if I moved in with her. A litter box in the hallway was of little concern to me, I’d had a litter box in my bedroom for the past 10 years and was well and truly nose blind to cat smells.
The hallway itself had random items lined up in it next to the walls. Boxes. Shoes. Clothes. Random power tools.
I caught a glimpse of Kelly’s room as she tossed her purse on her unmade queen sized bed. A haze of smoke hung in the air even though she hadn’t been in the room all day. There was a dresser at the foot of her bed that had her TV on top of it and a running series of empty and near empty 40oz bottles of Budlight. There was a small bedside table next to her bed that had a bong, an ashtray, and more 40s in various stages of consumption.
I couldn’t judge, thinking of my own home in my parent’s mobile home. I didn’t drink at the time, but my room was covered in Diet Coke cans, clothing, and trash. I knew what it was like to impromptu have someone in your house and would never judge for it.
If it weren’t for my own beardery and want to leave my parent’s home, the alarm bells would likely have been ringing.
Leaving her room, she led me to a room next door to hers that was at the opposite end of the hall as the litter box. “This is one of the rooms. It mirrors mine. So your closet is there,” she said pointing to a wooden door, “and mine is on the opposite side.”
The room itself was small and had a step down into it. A window was on my right side, the closet to my left. The carpet looked fairly clean and I envisioned where I would put my things. I could make this work.
Pulling my attention away from the room, she led me in the other direction passed the litter box. “The bathroom is here,” she said as she indicated a no frills bathroom with a tub, sink, and toilet. We went down another step and were in a strange sunroom area that only measured about 10’ x 10’. The room had a yellow, 1970s velour armchair, a wicker chair with a pink seat pad, a large 3’ tall blue and yellow lava lamp, and various random other items in it. Kelly continued the tour, “this is the ‘pimp room.’ It’s just a catchall for all of the roommate’s extra stuff that doesn’t fit in their rooms. The benefits of this bedroom,” she said as she gestured to a door off the side of said ‘pimp room,’ “is that it’s closer to the bathroom and you get the bonus of the pimp room. It’s weird to hang out in front of your roommate’s door, so people don’t usually come down here. The third roommate usually takes advantage of this”
I could see that and considered the advantages of the third bedroom as she opened the door. Immediately, I frowned. This room, unlike the other room I had just looked at, was mostly wooden walled and had a very small closet. It was also significantly smaller in size to the other room.
The mobilehome my parents owned had wood paneling in almost every room and I couldn’t stand it. The wood ate any light and was just so depressing. The bonus sunroom off of this third bedroom couldn’t make up for what a wooden room and small closet would do to my mental health.
“I think I like the other room better,” I said as we left the third bedroom. A fat black cat with one good eye and one hazy, dripping eye came into the pimp room and stretched out on the ground. Immediately, I stooped down to pet the baby and inquired about her eye.
“This is Ramona, I named her after a Sublime song. She has eye herpes,” Kelly explained.
I’d never heard of cats getting herpes, let alone eye herpes before. I also didn’t know Sublime. I listened to musicals, 1960s folk rock, and “new rock” like System of a Down and Godsmack.
“It’s not contagious, she just can’t see out of that eye.”
“Poor baby,” I said as I rubbed Ramona’s fat belly and she purred beneath my hand.
“If you’re interested in the room, it’s $433 a month plus utilities. I’m going to put an ad on Craigslist and find another roommate. Everyone can move in starting on the first.”
There are moments that change the course of your life.
“I’m definitely interested,” I said as I looked up from the attention I doted upon Ramona. “It’s so close to work and it would really save me from a bad situation.”
“Great,” she said with a smile as she walked us back to the living room. “Then I’ll just place the ad for the third room. Tony, our landlord, will want the first month and a deposit of the same amount on the first.”
I nodded, feeling the first uncertainty I had during this conversation. $433 was not a lot of money, but I made minimum wage at the time, $6.75 an hour. Having $866 in a couple of weeks was going to be slightly harder to pull.
Still, the benefit of not living with my parents would be worth it.
What could possibly go wrong?
I’ll leave it there for now, folks. Kelly and I lived together for about 8 years in two different houses and we had many a misadventure together before our paths split. I’m hoping I can chronicle some of the good times as well as some of the bad while giving a fair and honest assessment of both of our strengths and failings. It’s important to remember that while I did naively move into a legbeard nest, I am not a blameless victim in what our living situation will become. It is, afterall, Two Legbeards, One Nest.
2024.03.06 00:44 Dickey_Pringle Ads for "Comic Booklets". The kind you like! (1953)
 | submitted by Dickey_Pringle to OldSchoolRidiculous [link] [comments] |
2024.02.14 23:32 13curseyoukhan 1940 ad for the cola that never was (details in comments)
 | submitted by 13curseyoukhan to vintageads [link] [comments] |
2024.02.10 07:27 SteveGarbage KotOR3: The Mandalorian Wars
IF we got a KotOR3, I think a prequel to the Mandalorian Wars could actually be an amazing option.
We know the generalities -- the Mandalorians invade the Outer Rim, Revan rallies to fight them, the Mandalorians are pushed back and ultimately destroyed at Malachor V. But what happens within that frame would present rich opportunities for a great KotOR story.
If you played as Revan as the PC, you could have a great cast of companions including Malak, Meetra, Saul Karath and Arren Kae. Cameos from Carth and Bao-Dur and Atton. Maybe Canderous is a boss at some point. Or, you could go with an original PC who joins Revan with a cast of unique new companions and maybe play parallel and intersect with some famous faces along the way instead.
Perhaps you start on Dantooine, play Dxun, fight at Serroco and take part in the battle at Malachor in the finale.
For your LS vs. DS components, do you give into the battle lust as the war drags on, or do you try your best to resist the impact of the death and chaos being wrought? Are you a defender of the people or a merciless warrior? I could envision a great section on Dantooine arguing the merits of going to war (like the big Atris argument you can have at the polar academy).
I know there were some comics and stuff that touched on some of this story, but the opportunity to fill in the story of the Mandalorian Wars, to experience the strugglr and the challenges the Jedi faced during that time and to grapple with the philosophical questions raised about the Jedi's inaction in KotOR2, it's a premise I'd buy into wholesale.
And, from a gameplay perspective, you'd have a plot that would guarantee plenty of battling, where KotOR1 and KotOR2 both sometimes struggle to jam some fights into their planetary modules (like Manaan, Telos and the Iziz section on your first Onderon visit).
It's all wishful thinking, because nothing is actually brewimg, but what do you think? What scenario would you like to see in a hypothetical KotOR3?
submitted by SteveGarbage to kotor [link] [comments]
We know the generalities -- the Mandalorians invade the Outer Rim, Revan rallies to fight them, the Mandalorians are pushed back and ultimately destroyed at Malachor V. But what happens within that frame would present rich opportunities for a great KotOR story.
If you played as Revan as the PC, you could have a great cast of companions including Malak, Meetra, Saul Karath and Arren Kae. Cameos from Carth and Bao-Dur and Atton. Maybe Canderous is a boss at some point. Or, you could go with an original PC who joins Revan with a cast of unique new companions and maybe play parallel and intersect with some famous faces along the way instead.
Perhaps you start on Dantooine, play Dxun, fight at Serroco and take part in the battle at Malachor in the finale.
For your LS vs. DS components, do you give into the battle lust as the war drags on, or do you try your best to resist the impact of the death and chaos being wrought? Are you a defender of the people or a merciless warrior? I could envision a great section on Dantooine arguing the merits of going to war (like the big Atris argument you can have at the polar academy).
I know there were some comics and stuff that touched on some of this story, but the opportunity to fill in the story of the Mandalorian Wars, to experience the strugglr and the challenges the Jedi faced during that time and to grapple with the philosophical questions raised about the Jedi's inaction in KotOR2, it's a premise I'd buy into wholesale.
And, from a gameplay perspective, you'd have a plot that would guarantee plenty of battling, where KotOR1 and KotOR2 both sometimes struggle to jam some fights into their planetary modules (like Manaan, Telos and the Iziz section on your first Onderon visit).
It's all wishful thinking, because nothing is actually brewimg, but what do you think? What scenario would you like to see in a hypothetical KotOR3?
2024.02.09 03:55 mysupernerd Comic Supplies at Wholesale to the public
 | Visit my instagram mysupernerd and https://mysupernerd.com submitted by mysupernerd to comicsupplies [link] [comments] comics #comicsale #tradingcards #comicsforsale #igcomicfamilycomicbooks #igcomiccommunity #marvelcomicscomicbooksforsale #comiccollector #comicsales #comicsuppliesbuycomics #igcomicstore #cardsupplies #igcomicshopigcomicsforsale #backissues #comic #backissuecomics #sellcomicscomicfinds #marvelcards #vintagecomics #igcomics #buyingcomicsmarvel #sellingcomics #marveluniverse #whatnotcomics |
2024.02.09 03:51 mysupernerd Wholesale Comic and Card Supplies to the community
I'm hoping to drive down costs immediately for collectors, buyer's, sellers and streamers
submitted by mysupernerd to comicsupplies [link] [comments]
comics #comicsale #tradingcards #comicsforsale #igcomicfamily #comicbooks #igcomiccommunity #marvelcomics #comicbooksforsale #comiccollector #comicsales #comicsupplies #buycomics #igcomicstore #cardsupplies #igcomicshop #igcomicsforsale #backissues #comic #backissuecomics #sellcomics #comicfinds #marvelcards #vintagecomics #igcomics #buyingcomics #marvel #sellingcomics #marveluniverse #whatnotcomics
2024.02.05 13:31 TCG_Machines This is my (rather lengthy) interview with Mike, a happily retired LGS owner who had an extraordinary career in comic books and Magic cards. He set up shop in ‘94, qualified for the MtG Pro Tour 13 times, and retired in his 40s with a multimillion-dollar card collection. Good luck doing that today!
 | IntroI want to tell you about a guy I know. I wager he's lived a more interesting life than most. Here's a man who was raised on a pig farm, opened his own comic shop when he was just 21, lived the LGS owner dream, and retired in his 40s. How did he do it? Come along, dear reader, and I'll tell you.Act I - Origin StoryMike was born in 1973, and spent his first few years on his grandparents' farm in the middle of somewhere Alberta, but probably nowhere you'd recognize. At the age of three, Mike, his younger brother, and his parents moved onto their own farm, this one being a little farther from anywhere and closer to nowhere. This second farm was a hog farm, and it was here that Mike would spend his formative years. Speaking of his early years, Mike said, “It was perfectly fine. I worked a lot.”At seven-years-old, Mike started working small jobs around his parents’ hog farm – raking, sweeping, and the like – earning himself a cool $0.75 per hour. Mike’s Dad had also grown up on a farm, and his father had never paid him anything for his labour. Mike’s Dad held a lot of resentment over this, so he made sure Mike and his brother were always paid for their work. Mike saved up his money until he could afford to buy sets of Lego, mostly the space-themed ones. One particularly impressive set cost around $40 at the time (representing over 53 hours of his labour). “It taught me about money,” Mike chuckled, thinking back on the experience, “I understood how long it took to earn a box of Lego.” Work ethic was a core value in the Bower household, where the highest compliment one could receive was “you are a hard worker.” In 1984, at the age of 11, comic books entered Mike’s life for the first time. While on a family road-trip, Mike’s mother bought him and his brother each a comic book from a convenience store to keep them entertained on the long drive. His first comic book? G.I. Joe issue #26. “That was the start,” Mike reminisced, “From that point on I was pretty much hooked.” G.I. Joe was all the rage at the time. Mike already had some action figures and watched the TV show, but when he read the comics his life was forever changed. The discovery of G.I. Joe comic books really struck a nerve with Mike and, in no time at all, he had expanded his horizons to include other comics. “G.I. Joe only came out once a month! That wasn’t enough.” Mike recounted. His brother began collecting Star Wars comics, while Mike picked up issues of Marvel’s Secret Wars and Web of Spider-Man, along with many others. Mike’s copy of G.I. Joe issue #26. Photo supplied Soon after his introduction to comic books, a comic store opened at the mall in the nearest city centre and Mike was exposed to the whole gamut of different series. Unfortunately, that store only lasted for about a year. “They went out of business because they were a comic store in a mall and it was a bad idea,” said Mike, “But in their close-out sale, I bought the last four or five issues of Secret Wars, which was a huge 80s thing.” Shortly thereafter, in 1985, Secret Wars 2 was released. Secret Wars 2 featured a new concept, that of crossovers, which tied-in characters from all of Marvel’s other comics. By dint of this clever maneuver by Marvel, Mike (who had to have all the tie-ins) estimates that he was collecting 90% of all Marvel Comics’ offerings by the time Secret Wars 2 concluded. When he was just 12, Mike spied his first opportunity to turn a profit from comic books. A local department store had a promotional deal where they sold grab bags of five comics for $1.29 [CAD]. The bags, each of which contained the same five comics, included G.I. Joe issues #13 and #14. Mike happened to know Mile High Comics would purchase those particular issues for $4.50 [USD] each, and he explained the opportunity for arbitrage to his parents. “I badgered them long enough that they let me buy 10 bags.” said Mike. Keeping the best condition copies for himself, Mike mailed the other nine copies of each of the G.I. Joes to Mile High. Mike’s parents were incredulous, but sure enough, several weeks later a check arrived in the mail for $81 [USD] (approximately 36-billion dollars Canadian). Mike’s parents then allowed him to buy out the department store’s remaining stock of grab bags. Mike’s copies of G.I. Joe issue #13 and 14. Photo supplied Around the age of 13 or 14, Mike subscribed to the Comic Buyer’s Guide (CBG), a weekly publication about comic books which included a classified section and dealer listings. “I started ordering from these wholesale places in the US, and I would buy mostly 1960s stuff from them, dirt cheap, like 10 or 20% of the guide price. And then I would go to the local conventions, and I would trade them to the dealers to build my collection,” said Mike, remembering his early teenage years, “I was already hustling at that age.” Mike attended a small K-to-12 school numbering around 400 kids. “School was a way for me to see my friends.” Mike said of his grade school experience. The proximity of his parents’ farm placed him several miles away from his nearest buddies, so school was the social centre of Mike’s early life. The school did not have any clubs or extracurricular activities, meaning there were no major distractions from Mike’s primary passion, which was comic books. Throughout grade school, Mike's collection of comics continued to grow, as did his appreciation for their appeal and value. Mike did very well in high school, easily completing his schoolwork and achieving high grades. “School was easy for me.” said Mike, who finished at the top of his graduating class. Act II - The DecisionWith his exemplary grades, Mike had his pick of career paths. His family and teachers only considered three careers as worthy options: doctor, lawyer, or engineer. Mike’s older cousins were all starting, or even well developed, in one of those careers, so the path seemed even more set. Not really knowing what he was getting himself into, Mike decided on engineering, and off to university he went. This was a big move! From a hog farm in very rural Alberta, where he had spent his entire life, Mike moved to one of the largest cities in Canada to attend the University of Calgary. “I chose engineering because I didn’t really want to do the other two (doctoring or lawyering), but then I discovered I didn’t really want to do engineering either,” said Mike.While attending – and hating – university in Calgary, Mike found Phoenix Comics, which became his local comic haunt. Mike remembered his time spent there fondly and became well acquainted with Ben Falconer, who owned the store. Mike had received several university scholarships on account of his high marks in high school. Of these funds, Mike commented, “I spent a good chunk of that money on comics from Ben, which paid off much more than the education did!” Phoenix Comics Books. Source: yellowpages.ca In the summer of 1993, having completed the first two years of his engineering degree, Mike was ready to call it quits. He knew engineering was not the right path for him, and he had been toying with the notion of starting a comic business. Mike floated the idea of opening his own comic store by Ben, and Ben offered to let Mike use the Phoenix Comics name in return for a nominal monthly fee. That same summer, Ben had bought an enormous collection of comics consisting of 250 long boxes – approximately 90,000 comics! Ben had purchased the collection mainly for the higher end 1960s comics which it contained, but the sheer volume of it presented a storage problem, even for one of the bigger comic stores in the city. So, Ben agreed to sell the bulk of the collection, over 200 boxes, to Mike for the reasonable price of $0.30 per comic. “There was some really good stuff in there,” Mike said of the collection, “Basically everything from 1970 to 1993 from Marvel Comics, plus some other stuff.” As the price for the collection was approximately $25,000, Ben agreed to let Mike pay him back in instalments. Within days of agreeing to purchase Ben’s comics, Mike decided to drop out of university. “[I] had a big fight with my parents. They were not happy,” Mike laughed. Mike had always worked on his parents’ farm during his summers. Now, with no classes to return to, Mike moved back home and signed on with his parents to be a full-time farmhand, putting in 10-hour days, six days per week. With his tens of thousands of comics, Mike spent his limited time off in the evenings and on Sundays sorting and cataloguing his newly acquired inventory; the Bower family work ethic had been turned toward a fantastic and novel new purpose. On occasion, Mike would take a weekend and venture out to one of the various comic shows which took place across Western Canada. There, he would sell comics and use the revenues to pay down his loan to Ben. Mike carried on like this for a little over a year. Then, in September 1994, Ben called Mike out of the blue. Ben had gotten wind of a dirt-cheap, city-owned rental property that had come available back in Calgary. Even though the city planned to demolish the building in the future, Ben urged Mike to take the opportunity and lease the space with him. “It’s time to go! This is the spot – go!” Mike chuckled, remembering Ben’s pivotal phone call. Mike was far from certain, but he took a leap of faith and decided to take the space. “Let’s do it,” he agreed. At this point, Mike had paid Ben back in full for the comic collection and had even managed to save up some additional funds. Using his savings, Mike subleased part of the space from Ben and renovated it to suit his needs. In November, just six weeks following Ben’s phone call, Mike opened Phoenix Comics NW. Act III: Magic Timing“That was a bit of a scary time.” Mike recalled. But, as luck would have it, Mike had an aunt and uncle who lived in Calgary and had just retired. They were heading off to do some travelling and arranged for Mike to stay at their house, rent free, in return for him acting as caretaker of their property. Before they left, Mike’s aunt and uncle left him a copy of The Wealthy Barber, which Mike read and took to heart – more on this later. “I lived there for probably nine months, and I think they were back twice for two weeks at a time,” said Mike. Considering the opportunity to acquire Ben’s comics, the availability of a cheap commercial space, and the serendipity of his relatives’ invitation to stay in their home, Mike noted, “There was a lot of good timing.”So, how cheap was this space, exactly? Well, Mike’s portion of the commercial lease was $370 per month for about 1,200 sq ft of space. People of the present day may equate this sum with about how much they pay for their monthly Netflix subscription. “The building was shitty,” Mike quipped, “But it didn’t leak.” This was a good thing, considering the valuable paper-based products he was storing there. Three new business ventures split the space together. Ben rented the main floor to Mike, for Phoenix Comics NW, the upstairs Ben leased to his girlfriend, the proprietor of Purr Clothing, and the back room was allotted to Sloth Records. Amazingly, all three of those businesses have done tremendously well and are still around today. “The day I opened, I opened with zero debt,” Mike recalls, “I remember it being slightly under $1,000 that I had left in my bank account.” On his opening day, Mike sold a single comic book and Phoenix Comics raked in $3.75. And now for the Magic connection! In 1993, a new type of trading card burst onto the scene and forever changed the tabletop gaming industry: this was the advent of Magic: The Gathering and the introduction of trading card games, or TCGs. Having opened Phoenix Comics about a year after the launch of Magic, Mike’s timing – yet again – was exceptional. “I don’t even know if I’d heard of Magic,” remembered Mike, “Some of the first few people coming in were asking if I sold Magic cards. After three or four people asking if I am selling this thing, I’m like, ‘why am I not selling this thing?’” Mike immediately began investigating the new phenomenon and located a distributor in Calgary. In February 1995, the local distributor had two sets of Magic cards available: Revised and Fallen Empires. “They had infinite Fallen Empires, they would gladly sell me Fallen Empires,” said Mike, “The world had already figured out that [set] was flooded with garbage.” To get a box of Revised, on the other hand, there was a waitlist. Luckily for Mike, a forklift incident had resulted in damage to a box of the distributor’s stock of Revised cards, and Mike was able to purchase the damaged goods at a discount. The new product was a hit, and kids from the nearby school started coming in to buy packs of cards. “Probably by the end of February, [Magic] was outselling comics. And it outsold comics the whole way,” said Mike, “So, it was a comic store, but really it was a Magic store.” One of these early customers was interested in selling their deck of Magic cards to Mike. “OK, I sell back issue comics, I should probably sell single Magic cards,” thought Mike, “I had no idea what to pay, so I’m like, ‘I’ll pay five cents each.’” And he paid the young student around $5 for his deck of 100-or-so cards. That evening, Mike went to another game store and purchased a copy of S\*crye* magazine, a new periodical which contained price guide information for Magic: The Gathering cards. The deck Mike had just purchased contained two copies of Fork, which Scrye’s price guide listed as being worth $8 each. “Hmm, if I can buy these for five cents and sell them for eight dollars, I can make some money in this business,” laughed Mike. In those first months, Phoenix Comics did not have many customers. “Some days three or four people was all that would come in the store. So, I read the whole Magic rulebook, and I’m like, ‘Oh, this game sounds really cool!’,” Mike recalled. Soon after Mike had read the manual, one of his comic book regulars noticed that Phoenix was now selling Magic cards and informed Mike that they played. “Do you want to show me how?” Mike asked them, and there started a lifelong relationship between Mike and Magic, not just as a vendor to a product, but as a member of a passionate and thriving community. It turned out that the comic book regular was the best player in the city, and he taught Mike how to play the game. Mike and his new gaming partner played together continuously. “A couple weeks into starting to sell Magic, I already learned that you need Moxes and a Lotus, and these are the real cards in this game – these other cards don’t really matter,” Mike surmised. Within a month after opening, Phoenix Comics was stocking all the staples of the game which were important to competitive players. Mike attended his first tournament where he finished in second place – his mentor took the number one spot. “There was nothing like [Magic] before,” said Mike, “The early tournament scene was crazy.” Phoenix Comics NW was too small to host tournaments at the store, but Mike and his customers would play against one another in a small back room. “People would come in the store, hear all this commotion from the back and be like, ‘what’s that?’” recalled Mike, “And it sounded so fun because people were laughing and it was so much fun.” Nearly every day, Mike was teaching people how to play Magic. “It grew organically,” said Mike, “People were so into it right from the start, and they would teach someone, and those people would get so into it, and they would teach someone, and yeah, that’s just how it went.” Magic was the first, but not the only TCG which Mike carried at Phoenix. “I did Star Trek and Star Wars,” said Mike, “Those were both huge for a while. For a little while Star Wars was bigger than Magic.” But none had the staying power of the original TCG. Considering these other, unsuccessful card games, “They screwed up lots of things,” Mike analyzed, “It became too complicated, and [they] couldn’t get new players in because it was so complicated.” In addition to overcomplicating the gameplay mechanics, “They started putting out a set every month, which was too much for people to keep up with. And the power creep became insane,” Mike remembered. Looking back at the downfall of these once popular TCGs, the comparison to Wizards of the Coast (the publisher of Magic: The Gathering) and their present-day strategy was inevitable. “These are all problems Magic is dealing with now,” Mike warned, “You know, the signs are there, this killed every other game.” But this is not an article about the shortcomings of WotC and Hasbro (the parent company of WotC), so I digress! Sentry Box, a large game store in Calgary which also carried Magic cards, was one of the first stores in Western Canada to have sanctioned tournaments. “Mostly because I badgered the people running the events to make them sanctioned back then,” Mike recalled, somewhat begrudgingly, “And then I actually ended up doing half the work.” Mike was willing to put in the extra effort because he cared about rankings. In 1996 Mike took a weekend business trip to attend the Canadian nationals Magic tournament, which was hosted in Winnipeg, Manitoba that year. Mike was keen to qualify for the recently inaugurated Magic: The Gathering Pro Tour, which had its first season that same year. Between rounds, Mike did a lot of trading to pay for the trip. “I didn’t do very well in the tournament, but the trip was still quite profitable!” Mike quipped. Mike settled into a new routine: he would run the store during the day, and then compete at tournaments in the evenings. In those early years, Western Canada did not yet have Pro Tour Qualifier (PTQ) tournaments, so Mike even started travelling to Seattle, Washington to compete in the PTQs held there. Eventually there were PTQs in Alberta, allowing Mike to compete and qualify for the Pro Tour without having to leave the country. In total, Mike qualified for 13 Pro Tour events, 10 of which Mike played in. His first one was a Team Rochester event in Washington, DC in September 1999 and his last was an Extended event in Houston in November 2002. Mike never achieved notable results on the Tour, but he chalked a lot of this up to his status as an independent. “Big teams were the only ones putting up good results,” recounted Mike, “And they were hard to get into. They weren’t looking for anyone from Alberta to join.” Frankly, I find it pretty incredible that Mike was able to compete in tournaments at all, while simultaneously running his own business – and that’s to say nothing of repeatedly earning a berth to contend at the highest level of the game! But let us now return to the business of business. Act IV: Running the Show“I worked every day the first two years,” said Mike, “Christmas Day and New Year’s Day were my only days off.” Mike brought on his first employee, Donny (“Who I’m still friends with,” Mike added), to work on Sundays. Donny really wanted to start selling manga (Japanese graphic novels) at Phoenix. “In exchange for exclusive rights to sell manga in the store, he would work 10 hours a week,” Mike recalled, “OK sure, an employee I don’t have to pay. This is great.” Unfortunately (for Donny), manga didn’t sell well in those early days. “His 10 hours, [Donny] probably worked for a dollar an hour,” laughed Mike, “Three months in, he hired someone to work his 10 hours.” Donny’s new stand-in was Simon, who was a fantastic employee. After about a year, Donny threw up his hands and walked away, so Mike hired Simon on directly. “Simon was the first real employee,” said Mike, “Simon became manager eventually, and he was with me for about 10 years.” It also turned out that Donny was ahead of his time, as manga eventually became a huge part of the Phoenix success formula. Over the next few decades, there were times when manga outsold North American comic offerings at Phoenix.“I was profitable right from the start,” said Mike, “I made money the first year.” In 1995, there were only two other shops in town that sold Magic cards, and neither of them offered cash for their customers’ cards. “OK, I’ll just pay cash,” figured Mike, and he began offering cash for his customers’ cards at 50% of their market value. The other shops both allowed customers to trade in their individual cards (known in the industry as “singles”) for in-store credit at 50% of the card’s market value, so Mike offered his customers in-store credit for their singles at 80% of market value. With his competitive trade-in policy and option for cash-in-hand, Mike dominated the city’s emerging market for TCG cards. “For years, I pretty much had the singles market all to myself,” said Mike, “[The competitors] could have capitalized on it, but fortunately for me, they let me have the whole market for at least a decade.” In 1996, about 18-months after Phoenix Comics opened its doors, the city kicked Mike and the other tenants out of the building so that it could be demolished to widen 16th Avenue North, which forms part of the Trans-Canada Highway. Luckily, Mike had already saved up enough capital that he could afford the downpayment for a mortgage on a new location (which happens to be the same location where the business resides to this day): a two-story building with a basement, with each of the three floors being about 1000 sq ft (~3,000 sq ft in total). Speaking of luck, the purchase of Phoenix Comics’ permanent space was yet another one of those uncanny coincidences which we find throughout Mike’s career. There just so happened to be a big drop in Calgary’s commercial real estate prices, and the owners of the building could not find a buyer. “They were asking 200-and-something not long before, and they kept dropping the price, and dropping the price, and I offered $150[K] and they took it because they just couldn’t get rid of it,” remembered Mike, “That was probably the absolute maximum I could afford.” By the time he had made the downpayment and renovated the new building, Mike’s accounts were all the way back down near zero. Speaking of renovations, “I’d get up early, go to the new location and put a couple hours of renovations in in the morning, then work all day at the existing store, and then in the evening I’d go back and work as late as I could – 11 o’clock or midnight – doing the renovation, sleep, then do it again, over and over and over, for two months, until I had the place renovated and could move in,” Mike recalled of the exhausting time – thank goodness for that work ethic! The new location was a good fit, and Phoenix picked up new customers from the nearby Southern Alberta Institute of Technology (SAIT). However, over the next couple of years following the move, the store’s growth slowed and began to stagnate. But then, in 1998, there was a sign. Literally. “I bought that sign that sticks out… 18 months after I put that sign up, business had doubled. It just skyrocketed – it kept going up from there,” said Mike, “That sign was unbelievable, it was such good advertising.” Mike had had good signage before, but always flat against the building. Simply having the sign jut out from the building increased the store’s visibility to passing traffic, and the result was a doubling in sales volume from mid-1998 to the end of 1999. Phoenix Comics NW’s iconic Batman sign. Source: phoenixcomics.ca Mike had a practical, but insightful method for growing his team at Phoenix. “I always hired customers,” said Mike, “Lots of them I watched grow up, so I had a really good idea of who they were.” Around the year 2000, Mike even met his future wife, Jody, at the store. Jody eventually worked both behind the counter and in later years did a lot of behind-the-scenes work. Mike Bower, 2011. Source: Calgary Herald In 2008, a young man by the name of Brian Ziemba came through the doors of Phoenix Comics. Brian, who was 17 at the time, had recently gotten into Magic and had heard that Phoenix was the place to go for competitive players. “Brian was a kid who played at the store,” remembered Mike. True to his ethos, Mike hired Brian onto the Phoenix staff in 2012 when Brian was 21. Brian worked his way up at Phoenix and proved himself to be a highly competent member of the team. Between 2015 and 2016, Mike promoted Brian to manager. Brian Ziemba, 2014. Photo supplied Mike slowly staffed-up his business over time, “I always wanted to keep the staff as trim as possible,” said Mike, “It also took me a long time to get good at not micro-managing everything to death.” The ability to let go of responsibility and ownership was difficult for Mike, but he eventually got the hang of delegating tasks to his growing team. “By the end, I couldn’t even work the Magic counter myself, I would be completely lost.” In 2018, I met Mike for the first time. At this point in his career, after 24 years of Phoenix’s very successful cash-for-cards policy, Mike had accumulated a rather staggering quantity of unprocessed Magic card bulk. How much, exactly? About two-million cards, stored in a combination of Mike’s garage (at least one million there), at the shop and even occasionally in the store’s Sprinter van. “We bought everything,” said Mike, “So, that was piled up from collection after collection after collection.” Mike had never set out to horde bulk, and he even went so far as to throw boxes of bulk Magic cards into the recycling just to try and free up space. “I couldn’t get the value out of it at an economical rate because it would cost too much to pay someone to go through it all,” Mike lamented. Luckily for Mike (and for me), I had spent the last couple of years developing a Magic card sorting machine to help with just such a scenario, and Mike was excited to try it out. “I saw potential right away,” said Mike, “I was all-in pretty much immediately.” Between 2018 and 2020, Mike sent more than one million Magic cards through the alpha prototype PhyzBatch-9000 card sorting machine. When a beta prototype machine became available in mid-2020, Mike put another million cards through that. Finally, by mid-2022, Mike had rid himself of the literal tons of unprocessed bulk (2 tons, to be exact) he had been accumulating throughout his career. Mike’s test trials of the machine were also instrumental in helping me launch my own business, so thank you very much, good sir! Mike Bower’s hands, a beta prototype PhyzBatch-9000, and a whole bunch of Magic cards, 2020. Source: TCG Machines/Graeme Gordon Act V: A Graceful ExitMike didn’t always have an exit plan, apart from a general notion of retiring someday. That said, on the advice of The Wealthy Barber (which you’ll recall from Act III), he had started investing as soon as he had the money to do so. “The building was the first investment. Instead of paying rent, I’ll put my money into this building,” said Mike. Around 2005, Mike had paid for the building in full and was looking for his next investment. “That’s how I ended up in stocks and comics,” Mike recalled. Wait, stocks? What stocks? Well, back around 2006, a customer of Mike’s had offered him a ‘hot tip’ on some stock market investments. Mike decided to bite and invested $20,000 [CAD] into the recommended stock picks. At the same time, Mike bought a Batman #1 for $10,500 [CAD]. “Five years later, I sold these ‘awesome’ stock tips for about $14,000. So, a nice $6,000 loss over five years,” said Mike. Over that same period, Mike’s copy of Batman #1 had increased in value by five-fold, to about $50,000 [CAD]. Mike’s copy of Batman issue #1. Photo supplied “I quickly decided that golden age comics and Magic were a much better investment for me, ‘cause I knew [more] about these markets than stocks.” So, Mike started buying vintage comic books, followed later by investments into early printings of rare Magic cards. “I didn’t get hardcore into Magic stuff until about 2014-ish, I think is when I started buying Alpha (the very first set of Magic cards) stuff and really putting money into high-end Magic as an investment vehicle.” Even with his collectibles and real estate investments, succession planning was not at the forefront of Mike’s mind. But then, as luck – there it is again! – would have it, Brian (a keen intellect and savvy businessman in his own right) was aspiring to something greater than his role as store manager. In 2017 Brian approached Mike about starting up his own shop and asked if Mike would help to finance the venture. Mike declined to fund Brian’s endeavour and instead told Brian that if he held out for a few more years, Mike would sell Phoenix Comics to him. Thus, the seed was planted, and the stage was set! Yet another, and perhaps the final, of Mike’s run-ins with Lady Luck over the course of his career was the global COVID-19 pandemic. “Prices shot through the roof on collectibles. My comics nearly tripled [in value] between 2019 to 2021.” In the face of such unprecedented price spikes, it was clear to Mike that an opportunity for an early exit had arrived. In 2021, Mike began the intensive process of preparing to transfer ownership of his business, while also bolstering his retirement fund by selling off his golden age comic books. Much like the first two years after opening Phoenix Comics, Mike also worked nearly every day of the final two years of his career. In 2022, Mike cashed in the comics he had been collecting for nearly three decades with the ComicLink online auction house. Notable among these collectibles was a copy of Iron Man #1, which he bought for $200 [CAD] when he was 13, and sold for $3,125.00 [USD], and an Iron Man and Sub-Mariner which he purchased for $1.50 [CAD] and sold for $1,826.00 [USD] (Mike noted that he accidentally stepped on the Sub-Mariner when he was sorting through his collection as a kid, putting a single crease in it and reducing its quality from an estimated ~9.8 down to a 9.4. Though it may sound trivial, that 0.4 difference in rating has an enormous effect on price). Mike’s copy of Iron Man issue #1. Photo supplied Mike’s copy of Iron Man and Sub-Mariner. Photo supplied When he was 18, Mike had purchased a copy of Tales of Suspense #39 (containing the first appearance of Iron Man) from Ben Falconer for $1,350 [CAD]. It sold for $44,100 [CAD]. Not bad, Mike, not bad at all. Now for one of the really fun ones. Remember the Batman #1 that Mike had bought for $10,500 [CAD] back in 2006, the one that steered him away from the stock market and into golden age comics? “I sold the Batman #1 for $230,000 [USD],” said Mike. To put that in perspective, and considering currency exchange rates, that’s twice the amount that Mike paid for his commercial building. Unreal. Mike made many record-setting sales in his big comic selloff, several of which are pictured below. Oh, and it gets better! Mike’s copy of Amazing Fantasy issue #15. Photo supplied Mike’s copy of Chamber of Chills issue #23. Photo supplied Mike’s copy of Planet Comics issue #1. Photo supplied Mike’s copy of Suspense Comics issue #3. Photo supplied “I’m still holding cards,” admitted Mike, “Collectibles don’t top out, they plateau and then they go up, and they plateau and they go up.” So, I had to know, what kind of gems does this mythical archive of Magic cards contain? “I have over 100 pieces of Power Nine,” Mike stated cooly, adding, “I have a BGS 9.5 quad-plus Alpha Lotus.” To those of you for whom these preceding sentences mean nothing, I will briefly explain; the Magic aficionados among you may skip over the next paragraph. Mike’s collection of Power Nine Magic cards. Photo supplied In the first three set releases of Magic, there were nine cards which were considered absolutely essential for competitive players because of their powerful in-game effects, hence the “Power Nine”. Of these, by far the most infamous – and valuable – is the Black Lotus. An Alpha Black Lotus (i.e. a Black Lotus from the very first set of Magic cards ever released) is the crème de la crème of trading cards. While Power Nine cards are exceedingly rare (they are on the “Reserved List” of cards which Wizards of the Coast has promised never to reprint), the condition of any individual card still plays a massive role in its worth. So, when there are hundreds, or thousands, or potentially tens of thousands of dollars on the line, collectors will send in their high-value cards to get an official condition assessment. BGS, which stands for Beckett Grading Service, is one such professional card grading service provider. Typically, cards will be given a grade on a 10-point scale, with the overall grade being determined from four sub grades assigned for the quality of the card’s centering, corners, edges, and surface. A “quad plus” simply means that the four sub-grades given to a card are each at least as high as the overall grade. To understand the implications of what Mike is sitting on, a quick scan on eBay (made on January 13, 2024) revealed two instances of BGS 9.5 Alpha Black Lotuses, each of which was listed for $1 million [USD] or more. Of note, neither of these other two BGS 9.5 Lotuses was a quad-plus specimen. So, there’s that. On September 1st, 2022, Phoenix Comics officially changed hands from Mike over to Brian, and Mike retired. Mike and Brian shake hands out front of Phoenix Comics NW, 2022. Photo supplied I think retirement scares a lot of people. Some wonder what they will do or how they will keep busy, because they have associated themselves (and their self-worth) with their work for their entire adult life. Some people are not Mike. When I met up with Mike over lunch to conduct this interview, he was the picture of contentment. In good humour, and laughing easily, Mike let me know he is as busy as ever in his retirement. Mike had always been interested in woodworking, and he actually built all the fixtures (cabinets, shelves, etc.) for Phoenix himself. “Custom stuff is expensive, unless you learn to do it yourself, so I did it myself,” he said, “I’m pretty proud of them.” Now that he’s retired, Mike has taken an interest in making fine furniture. “I am not going to try to turn this into a business,” Mike promised, “I have turned all of my other hobbies into businesses. There’s no chance this is becoming a business.” To ensure this, Mike limits himself to a maximum of two or three hours of woodworking per day. Aside from woodworking, Mike was always big into video games. “I get into a game pretty hardcore. I had 2,400 hours in Fallout 4. I did every challenge possible,” said Mike, “I’m beyond completionist. Any YouTube channel that has challenges, I would watch them do it and try and do it better.” And Fallout 4 wasn’t Mike’s only gaming outlet. “I have almost 2,000 hours in Civilization 6.” Gaming continues to play a role in Mike’s life and forms a part of his retirement vision. And, of course, Magic remains a staple. “I still play Magic once a week. I play Legacy at the store.” Mike has no plans to travel or play at a high level anymore, though. Mike and his wife Jody are happily retired in Calgary with their cat, Molly, and their three dogs, Buffy, Cooper, and Sammy. EpilogueApparently I've exceeded the Reddit limit of 40,000 characters, though MS Word tells me differently? For those who are interested, the last little bit is available on the blog (link below). Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it :) https://tcgmachines.com/blog/the-mike-bower-story |
2024.01.29 19:59 rmartin_tt Collaboration without the chaos
 | submitted by rmartin_tt to TakeTurns [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/j8sfzgh6fffc1.png?width=1200&format=png&auto=webp&s=aa6725d4872a71c12e6be52bec6b644b03600a64 In 1966 the jazz saxophonist Wayne Shorter[1] released “The All Seeing Eye.”[2] Shorter set out on a mission to explore “Life and the universe and God” with an amazingly talented crew of contemporaries[3], including Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Grachan Moncur III on trombone, James Spaulding on alto saxophone, Herbie Hancock on piano, Ron Carter on bass, Joe Chambers on drums, and, on one track, Wayne’s brother Alan Shorter on flugelhorn. Ted Panken wrote that the album “[fulfills] John Milton’s admonition to the ‘heavenly muse’ in Paradise Lost to sing the story ‘In the Beginning how the Heav’ns and Earth/Rose out of Chaos.’” “Chaos” is the album's third track, and perhaps the album’s most well-regarded work. The music “mirrors conflicts, wars, disagreements—the difficulty men have in understanding each other.”[4] The work is a tense, dynamic, hard-bop blend of harmonies, rhythms, and timing; it’s beautiful. and it’s ironic (however, not like rain on your wedding day[5]). For as tense and riven as the work makes one feel. The meticulous orchestration showcases the artists' remarkable control, artistry, and mastery of the form. It’s controlled disarray. It’s structured chaos. It’s a paradox. This paradoxical “Chaos” has been in my mind as we have explored the world of collaboration at TakeTurns. In our chats with our legal, real estate, accounting, finance, purchasing, and compliance users, a common thread has been just how messy collaborations are when email is used. Many of our users have asserted that their organizational skills and attention to detail are the only things that stave off disaster when collaborating by email. Significant amounts of time are spent just to manage the logistics. And it’s worth pointing out that all this mind-numbing administrative drudgery is mirrored by the parties on the other side. In short (or perhaps, Shorter), each party has to become either Ron Carter or Joe Chambers (the rhythm section) to keep the collaboration on tempo. But of course, since each party keeps time separately, the collaboration never gets or says in sync[6]. It’s (un)controlled disarray or (separately) structured chaos! However, all this manual effort implies that collaborations are intrinsically structured. It’s the tool choice that’s driving the pain. It’s worth pointing out that email (and, FWIW, most collaboration tools) lacks formal structure by design—the creators optimized on ease of message exchange. As a result, there are few controls on the process, timing, security, etc. And that lack of structure leads to all that manual effort, increased cognitive load, and anguish the users feel when using email as a collaboration medium. And that’s why I think we’re bringing something unique to the market with TakeTurns. With TakeTurns, we’ve made that invisible visible by creating the structure around the collaboration and consolidating all the content. By creating a common place to collaborate, TakeTurns becomes that rhythm section helping control the tempo and mediate the interchanges and transitions. One of our users commented that our formal “turn-by-turn” exchange reduced confusion—everyone always knew whose turn it was to work. Others have noted the utility of having doc requests that are automatically monitored from start to finish. The fact that folks can quickly browse history and review prior versions without having to search their inbox is a delight for everyone. All of this is made possible by the fact that we’ve formalized the structure that already exists in an ad-hoc (improvisational?) fashion in collaborations today. It’s that structure that’s obscured beneath all those messages when you use email. And as such, TakeTurns removes the manual effort required to keep a handle on the chaos. Or, it’s why we say that TakeTurns is collaboration without the chaos. Try TakeTurns todayTakeTurns brings structure, security, and transparency to your collaborations. With TakeTurns, you and your parties will know whose turn it is to work, track the full history, and maintain confidentiality. Learn more in our Help Center or follow us on LinkedIn and YouTube. And when you’re ready for chaos-free collaboration: Try TakeTurns for free. [1] Wayne Shorter (1933 - 2023) was often described as “The world's greatest living jazz composer.” He was a saxophonist who, throughout his six-decade career, “experimented with new sounds, textures, and compositional techniques.” Much of his innovation was done in teams, taking risks “in reliable company,” first with Art Blakey, then Miles Davis, and finally as a band leader. Speaking of his approach to playing with others, Shorter said, “It’s a little thing we call trust and faith … To me, the definition of faith is to fear nothing.” It’s proof that innovation and collaboration require trust as a foundation. |