Apr. 18th, 2017

solarbird: (korra-on-the-air)
Norwescon was pretty neat, I'll post more about that to the band blog later.

"KUOW Employee Woke Up to Find Swastikas Painted on Her Cars, and Cars All Down the Block." That's near here. "Trump’s favorite conspiracy theorist claims he’s just a ‘performance artist.'" That's not, and I need to see what the channers are thinking about this. Hopefully, it's hilarious. "Dortmund attackers wanted to incite backlash against Muslims" - you probably haven't heard about the Dortmund bombing, this is why.

"Alt-Right Ringleader Mike Cernovich Threatens to Drop ‘Motherlode’ If Steve Bannon Is Ousted." PLEASE. YES, DO THIS, THANKS. "Polls show Americans voted for Trump out of "fear of diversity"" shocks nobody except the LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU crowd.

"Westboro Wannabes Picket Norwescon" - that's where I was. "Does the Furry Community Have a Nazi Problem?" Yes, but that's not where I was.

"The Editors of a Major Scientific Publication Are Urging Readers to Attend the March for Science" - that's THIS WEEKEND, folks.

"Trump will keep list of White House visitors secret" went through a few headlines, but it's a big DRAIN THIS to his voters, who absolutely do not care. "Trump's pivot is real — he's more right-wing than ever" is what the GOP cares about. "100 Days of Horror" is mostly a list of what has been managed, mostly by putting white supremacists and neofascists in positions of power. And, as we already know, the "EPA emerges as major target after Trump solicits policy advice from industry."

Finally, "Yes, You Can Measure White Privilege."

Sorry for short shrift on analysis, I'm playing catch-up.

It's April 18th, 2017; this is the news )
solarbird: (tracer)
before this, this, and this

The woman in blue sat perched on the walkway, still, and waiting, sniper rifle - for once - not at the ready. Across the broken strip of road before her, on the roof of the low empty building found there, a macaque sucked on a bit of orange, pointedly ignoring the seagulls settling in nearby for the night.

If he was right, thought the woman who waited, it should not take very long.

In the corner of a room visible through the open front door of that building, a small hexagonal device lay silent, looking entirely like just another piece of abandoned hardware in this place strewn with abandoned hardware, forgotten. Of course, it was not; and it, too, waited.

From the far distance, across the bay, came the noise of a freighter, anchoring down; a sharp ear could almost hear the crew talking amongst themselves as the stars came out, one or two or four or eight at a time. A small boat launched, towards shore, possibly carrying sailors on leave, and possibly not.

The macaque, finished with its fruit, climbed around the front of the building and leapt over to the cliff face, disappearing into the low shrubbery clinging to pockets of rocky, hard soil. Further down towards the beach, sandpipers briefly argued, then apparently settled things amongst themselves, leaving only the sound of waves and far-distant traffic.

The watcher touched the side of her headdress, and goggles slid quietly into place over her eyes. The device was warmer than the rest of the building, the power supply and sensors creating the smallest glow of heat - not even enough to attract the animals, but just enough to measure.

She waited.

Only after the last maroon of twilight fled, and the bright nearly full moon set, only then, just visible through the entrance, did a glow arise in the deep black gloom, inside the building, past the doorway. The faintest trace of colour, a deep, dark blue - and the device reacted instantly, throwing all of the power it had in its tiny power cell into its small accelerator field. The blue glow strengthened sharply, and the woman on the walkway breathed sharply in, thinking, Now I see you, as the glow briefly attained form - and the field collapsed, power supply exhausted.

The glow yellowed, turned red, darkened, and vanished.

Hooking her grapple, the blue-haired woman dismissed her goggles and dropped to the ground below, running over to the device. Of what she'd just seen, no trace remained, dust on the floor and walls not even disturbed - but the data remained, safely tucked into a small, heavily shielded storage card.

The assassin held it up, and smiled. Now, she thought to herself, I have you.

September 2017

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