opalsong: (podfic)
[personal profile] opalsong posting in [community profile] amplificathon


Title: The Devil's Luck
Author: KouriArashi
Reader: Opalsong
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairings: Allison/Scott, Derek/Stiles, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Chris/Victoria
Rating: Teen
Length (total): 7:26:25
Music: S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W by My Chemical Romance
Cover: Opalsong (heavily influenced by Kylie L's gorgeous covers for this series)
Summary:Another day, another mysterious series of murders in Beacon Hills ....

Podbooks Link:
Podbook [7:26:26; 211.1MB]

Chapter Links [length; size]:
Chapter 1 [29:12; 22.8MB]
Chapter 2 [25:49; 20.6MB]
Chapter 3 [28:54; 22.6MB]
Chapter 4 [27:01; 21.0MB]
Chapter 5 [33:20; 46.0MB]
Chapter 6 [31:23; 24.2MB]
Chapter 7 [37:45; 52.1MB]
Chapter 8 [31:37; 43.6MB]
Chapter 9 [30:21; 41.9MB]
Chapter 10 [30:27; 42.0MB]
Chapter 11 [26:14; 20.2MB]
Chapter 12 [37:58; 29.2MB]
Chapter 13 [35:30; 49.0MB]
Chapter 14 [40:54; 31.5MB]

Thanks to Paraka for hosting!!

cross posted at amplificathon, my journal, and AO3
opalsong: (podfic)
[personal profile] opalsong posting in [community profile] amplificathon


Title: Fledged
Author: Lys ap Adin
Reader: Opalsong
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Pairings: Gen
Rating: General
Length: 26:16
Size: 36.5MB
Music: Tsuna Awakes by Toshihiko Sahashi
Cover: Opalsong
Summary: There comes a point when a person has to say, "Enough." And Tsuna just reached his.

Link: mp3

Thanks to Paraka for hosting!
Thanks to Lys ap adin for having blanket permission!!

cross posted at amplificathon, my journal, and AO3

OTW Guest Post: UsedKarma

Jul. 23rd, 2017 10:09 am
otw_staff: Sarah Loch OTW Communications Staffer (Sarah Loch OTW Communications Staffer)
[personal profile] otw_staff posting in [community profile] otw_news
Banner by caitie of an OTW-themed guest access lanyard

Fan artist/writer Usedkarma tells us about her fandom history, the Darcyland network, & what sets it apart https://goo.gl/NUqCir

(no subject)

Jul. 23rd, 2017 09:59 am
desireearmfeldt: (Default)
[personal profile] desireearmfeldt posting in [community profile] amplificathon
Title: Mouthpiece
Author: Rheanna
Reader: DesireeArmfeldt
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Length: 30 mins
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard
Additional Tags: Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ancient plot device
Summary: "Well, that's one way to get you to shut up."

Text at AO3

MP3
opalsong: (podfic)
[personal profile] opalsong posting in [community profile] amplificathon


Title: could not make a wookiee intimidating
Author: QueenWithABeeThrone
Reader: Opalsong
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Gen
Rating: General
Length: 8:42
Size: 12.3MB
Music: Uh-oh! by Midnight Syndicate
Cover: Opalsong
Summary: "Aw, come on,” says Anakin, glaring at the dice as if they’ve personally offended him. “You roll twenties for Ahsoka and not for me? I own you, you fuckers, the least you could do is do me a favor every once in a while.”

or: Anakin Skywalker's terrible luck strikes again at the worst time.

Link: mp3

Thanks to Paraka for hosting!

cross posted at amplificathon, my journal, and AO3
sovay: (PJ Harvey: crow)
[personal profile] sovay
I don't know if I saw relatives of mine this afternoon.

My grandfather's father was born in Lodz. He was the eldest of six siblings, three sisters, three brothers; the family owned a textile mill in the city and the father was a Talmudic scholar of some repute. My great-grandfather was expected to continue in his father's religious footsteps; instead, after a stint in the Imperial Russian Army (from which he must have deserted, because he sure didn't serve twenty-five years), he became what my grandfather once memorably described as a "Zolaesque freethinker" and emigrated to America in 1912. One of his brothers followed him; though we're no longer in contact with them (a little thing about declaring my mother ritually dead when she married my father), his descendants live in Florida. Another brother is buried in Israel, though I'm not sure how or when he got there—his older children were born in Lodz, his later ones in Tel Aviv. None of the sisters made it out of Poland alive. The middle one I have almost no information about, except that Lodz is listed as her place of death. (Her children survived: they too turn up later in Israel.) The eldest and the youngest died—as far as I know, with their families—in Chełmno and Auschwitz. These are the cousins who feel like closer ghosts than they should, dying in 1942 and 1945, because their descendants would have been no farther from me in blood than [personal profile] gaudior. They are loose ends, like other family stories. I don't know what there is to be known of them anymore.

Because the exhibit is closing in a week, my mother and I went to the MFA this afternoon to see Memory Unearthed: The Lodz Ghetto Photographs of Henryk Ross. If you live in the Boston area, I don't say it's a light day out, but it's worth your time. Ross was one of the few survivors of the Lodz Ghetto, a staff photographer employed by the Judenrat. He was supposed to take the nice pictures of the ghetto, to document how productively and well the Jews were getting along under Nazi supervision; he used his license to take the ones that were not so nice, dead-carts instead of bread-carts, chain-link and barbed wire, the sick and the starving, the broken walls of a synagogue. He documented the resistance of living, which sometimes looked like defiance and sometimes like collaboration: the slight, quietly smiling man who rescued the Torah scroll from the smashed-brick ruins of the synagogue, the young wife and plump child of a Jewish policeman like the ones seen—perhaps he's among them—assisting a crowd of Jewish deportees aboard the boxcars that will take them to Auschwitz. Pale Jude stars are so omnipresent in this black-and-white world that even a scarecrow wears one, as if to remind it to confine its trade to non-Aryan fields. Ross took about six thousand photographs total; in the fall of 1944, as the ghetto was being liquidated, he buried the negatives as a kind of time capsule, not expecting to survive himself to recover them. He was still alive and still taking pictures of the depopulated ghost town the ghetto had become when the Red Army liberated it in January 1945. His face cannot be seen in the photograph of him reclaiming his archive because he's the figure at the center of the grinning group, the one bending to lift a crusted box from the dug-up earth. Groundwater had rendered about half the negatives unsalvageable, but rest could be developed, warped, nicked, bubbled, and sometimes perfectly clear, their damaged emulsion showing scars and survival. He published some in his lifetime. He never arranged the complete series to his satisfaction. My mother would have seen him on television in 1961 when he testified against Eichmann. The MFA has a clip of an interview with him and his wife Stefania née Schoenberg—his collaborator and another of the ghetto's 877 Jewish survivors—eighteen years later in Israel, describing how he took his covert photographs hiding his camera inside his long coat, how just once he snuck into the railway station at Radogoszcz to record the last stages of a deportation, the freight train to the "frying pan" of Auschwitz itself. He died in 1991. It is said that he never took a picture again.

(I know there are philosophical questions about photographs of atrocity: how they should be looked at, what emotions they may have been intended to evoke, to what degree it is or is not appropriate to judge them as art. I'm not very abstract here. They were taken to remember. You look at them to make sure you do. What you feel is your own business; what you do with the knowledge of the history had damn well better concern other people.)

My great-grandfather's sisters would have been deported from the Lodz Ghetto. Their death dates even match the major waves of deportation to their respective camps. I have no idea what either of them looked like. I have seen maybe two photos each of my grandfather's parents: aunts and uncles, nothing. I'm not saying the photos don't exist. My grandfather had a sister; she may have inherited a better pictorial record. But I haven't seen it. And looking for people who look like my grandfather is no help; Henry Kissinger went through a period of looking like my grandfather and that was awkward for everybody. Any older woman might have been either one of them, any older man one of their husbands, any young people their children, any children their grandchildren. None of them might have been my family. Maybe theirs were among the images destroyed by the winter of 1944, as unrecoverable as their bodies. Maybe they were never captured on film at all. I wouldn't know. I don't know. I pored over faces and thought how beautiful so many of these people were (not beautiful because of their suffering: bone and expression, the kinds of faces that are beautiful to me), how many of them looked like both sides of my mother's family. Almost no one was identified by name. Maybe no one knows these people by name anymore. I hope that's not true.

You can look through the contents of Henryk Ross' archive yourself. They are, like most photographs, historical and modern prints both, better in person. We left the museum and had dinner at Bronwyn both because we lucked out parking two blocks from the restaurant in the middle of a street fair and because it was Eastern European food and it felt symbolic that we were here to eat it, even if I am pretty sure that a Hungarian-inflected chorizo dog is food of my people only in the sense that I personally would order it again because it tasted great. I did some badly overdue grocery shopping and caught the closing performance of the PMRP's Murders and Scandals: Poe and Doyle and spent nearly the entire cast party upstairs reading the scripts for the second through the fourth seasons of Babylon 5 (1993–98) and as much of the fifth season as doesn't suck. Autolycus fell asleep on my lap almost as soon as I sat down at my computer and I haven't been able to move from this chair for hours. I can't imagine what the world looks like in which I have so many more cousins of the degree of Gaudior, although I know that I am tired of fictional versions in which neither of us would even be here (the same goes for other atrocities, imagined worse for purposes of entertainment). Maybe in that other world, we have more family photographs. Maybe we're not in contact with them, either. Maybe I still don't have faces to go with the names. It doesn't matter if they were all strangers, though, the people from this afternoon and more than seventy years ago: they were alive. They are worth remembering. Especially now, they are worth remembering why.

QotD

Jul. 23rd, 2017 05:24 am
dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
[personal profile] dglenn

"For it's not enough to walk the moon, send robots off to Mars
 Nor send a lucky handful out to catch a glimpse of stars
 We're gonna live and work and space. We're gonna go to stay
 And the ones who'll make it happen,
  the ones who make it happen,
   yes the ones who'll make it happen
 are the ones who make it pay"

  -- Jordin Kare (b. 1956-10-24, d. 2017-07-19), "Bloody Bastards"

siderea: (Default)
[personal profile] siderea
Every. single. time. my shell hosting company announces a planned outage for an upgrade for something having to do with email, and they assure me that it won't impact me at all and I won't have any email outage, every single time they've wrong.

I'm not going to embarrass them in public because they do try so hard and are quick to fix broken things when I bring them to their attention.

It's just that, by now, I'd hope they'd just email me, "Hey, Siderea, we'll be fucking up your email at this future date and time. We'll be around on Twitter until this subsequent date and time. Please be available during this window to exercise your account and let us know what we've broken this time."

Instead, I email them in response to the planned outage announcement and say, "Hey, what can we do in advance to make this work?" and they're like "nothing, it's all going to go perfectly!" and I'm like, "ooookay, when exactly will you be flipping the switch, (so I know when to check on you, but I don't say this part)?" and they're like, "oh, sometime on that weekend." *throws hands in the air*

(I miss nyip.net so hard.)

Three sentences about 2017-07-22

Jul. 22nd, 2017 11:12 pm
irilyth: (Default)
[personal profile] irilyth
A very recreational day today! Played Niagara with the kids in the morning, which was mostly fun but a little stressful, as it ran long we had to get to shotokan, Q still struggles a little with figuring out exactly what cards he needs to play to get the effect he wants, and he got very, very frustrated at the end when one of his plans went awry. :^( We'll keep workin' on it, but we might take a break from this game in particular for a bit. Then to shotokan, which was weirdly deserted -- only three kids in Q's class (and one of them showed up halfway through), where there are usually eight or ten or more, and only one in Junie's, where there are usually at least four to six. People on vacation this week? Who knows. Anyway, the kids had fun, and we then came home for lunch, before heading out to the pool at Russell Field for some swimming. Had a very good time there too, although there was one scary part when Q jumped in off the side into water that he didn't realize was over his head, while I was watching him but not right there, so I swam over at top speed to rescue him. He was splashing and flailing around, but seemed otherwise fine, but jeez dude, do not jump into water over your head eh. :^p Anyway, we took off after one of the period pool checks, and I then showered and headed over to Ruth & Gavin's for a gaming and birthday party type event for Gavin. A game of Dominion had just started when I got there (as well as three other games in progress), so I watched that and chatted for a bit, until pizza arrived and a couple of games ended. I then played Can't Stop, in which I personally DID NOT STOP, because, you know, that's the name of the game, a strategy which the other players found hilariously bewildering. I did not win, but had fun maintaining my moral purity and amusing the more serious players. :^) I then played a new-to-me game called Las Vegas, which was interesting and fun but seemed *really* random at the end of each round -- there were interesting decisions to be made, but in each of the three rounds, my decisions were completely wiped out by a fairly unlikely die roll (sometimes mine, sometimes another player's), so, I dunno, I guess that strategizing your way into the best position when the random smiting starts happening is sort of fun, but I think it would have been just as fun without quite so much "oh and then he rolled triple threes so your whole position is wiped out" at the end. I might try it again, but probably wouldn't suggest it. I then played in two games of King Of Tokyo, which Amy and the kids had played at a previous gaming thing at Chaos's, but I hadn't before; I liked it a lot, the theme is silly but the game seems very well put together, with a lot of interesting choices, plus some good variability in the special cards. It was 22:00 by that point, so we said our goodbyes at that point. I didn't get quite as much "playing games too advanced for the kids" action as I migh thave liked, but it was nice to play games with grownups for a change. :^)
snowynight: An Asian doctor who's also Captain America (Default)
[personal profile] snowynight posting in [community profile] wipbigbang
Story Title:Look with a Blind Heart
Fandom: Star : Star Trek: Original Series (Mirror Universe)
Link(s): http://archiveofourown.org/works/11436150
Summary: As Jim's underboss, Spock follows his every order, including those in the bedroom. He is resigned that Jim only treats him as a friend with benefit, because it is the closest to what he wants from Jim. However, as they shared days and nights of passion, Spock begins to wonder if he has more than he realizes. (Fantasy mob AU)
Warnings some violence, kinky sex
Characters: Mirror!Kirk, Mirror!Spock
Pairings: Mirror!Kirk/Miror!Spock
When I Started: This fic has begun as I wrote a ~1k PWP one-shot with magical sex toys and started wanting to know how they got together in this fantasy universe. I've finished another prequel about the first time they acknowlege the sexual attraction and had sex, but I'm not satisfied with where I left them, and I love friends with benefit turned lover trope.
How I Lost My Shit: I generally have trouble with getting my characters to fuck like bunnies, and I'm not good at consistent world building, so I torture myself second guessing every details
How I Finished My Shit I'm glad that I've discovered wipbigbang, which gave me a deadline as motivation. My beta Liviania is excellent as she patiently worked with me on my fic.

[Silmarillion] Cold Comfort

Jul. 22nd, 2017 08:04 am
chestnut_filly: (Default)
[personal profile] chestnut_filly posting in [community profile] amplificathon
(Crossposted @AO3)



Title: Cold Comfort
Author: [archiveofourown.org profile] Amyfortuna
Reader: [archiveofourown.org profile] Chestnut_filly
Fandom: The Silmarillion
Pairing: Nerdanel/Nienna
Rating: T
Summary: "Nerdanel, early in the Second Age, ponders the wisdom of her choices."
Length: 9:11

Mediafire download link
.

Recorded and posted for Tolkien Femslash Week 2017, for the prompt Sappho 56 (trans. Anne Carson):

not one girl I think
who looks on the light of the sun
will ever
have wisdom
like this

Because is this not the most Nerdanel quote there has ever been?
-
There are slight sound effects here, but I don't think they should be triggering for listeners with auditory epilepsy, and there is no dramatic reverb/echo for those with auditory processing issues. The biggest difference is in "distance" and a slight volume drop.
lexigent: (Shx)
[personal profile] lexigent
I have announced this everywhere I could think of so posting to my own journal too in case you haven't seen in anywhere else yet.

Stage of Fools is a fic exchange for the plays of William Shakespeare (with the exception of the Histories). Sign-ups are now open!




Stage of Fools on LJ | Stage of Fools on Dreamwidth

Sign-up post on LJ | Sign-up post on Dreamwidth


Schedule:

Sign-ups: July 22 through August 18, 2017
Assignments go out: around August 20, 2017
Assignments due: October 20, 2017
Madness/prompt claiming time: October 20 through 31 - as soon as all assignments are in, all unwritten prompts will be revealed for everyone to write fic of any length. You don't have to sign up as a Stage of Fools participant to participate in Madness.
Go-live: November 1, 2017
Author reveal: November 5, 2017
lexigent: (Shx)
[personal profile] lexigent posting in [community profile] yuletide
Stage of Fools is a fic exchange for the plays of William Shakespeare (with the exception of the Histories). Sign-ups are now open!




Stage of Fools on LJ | Stage of Fools on Dreamwidth

Sign-up post on LJ | Sign-up post on Dreamwidth


Schedule:

Sign-ups: July 22 through August 18, 2017
Assignments go out: around August 20, 2017
Assignments due: October 20, 2017
Madness/prompt claiming time: October 20 through 31 - as soon as all assignments are in, all unwritten prompts will be revealed for everyone to write fic of any length. You don't have to sign up as a Stage of Fools participant to participate in Madness.
Go-live: November 1, 2017
Author reveal: November 5, 2017

QotD

Jul. 22nd, 2017 05:24 am
dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
[personal profile] dglenn

From "Oh this has not gone well" (part 14) by Redditor "ThisHasNotGoneWell":

"Well," I started, how do I explain statistics, and not sound like the boringest boring person in the world, "In the world I come from people have enough free time on their hands, and they take games seriously enough, that people will study a game like a Mage might study magic. I had plenty of time when I was waiting for the pass south to clear, so I spent some time pulling the rules apart, figuring out the probability of any given hand. The other players might have a gut feeling as to how probable a given hand is, but I know the figures exactly. I'll also try to keep track of what cards I've seen played already. Between that, and having worked out the probabilities of each, I usually have at least an idea of how good my hand is compared to the others."

"Wait," she said, trying to wrap her head around what I'd just said, "So, you know what cards they have in their hand?"

"Not quite, I know what cards they probably have. And even if I don't know specifics, I'll at least have an idea of whether their hand is better or worse than mine, and that's really all I need."

"Don't humans have anything better to do?"

I thought of the many hundreds of hours spent playing videogames and watching Netflix.

"Nope."

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bex77

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