Ysärinostalgiaa: tv-piirretyt

Ysärinostalgiaa: lelut

Hee, uuden "Ysärinostalgiaa" aiheen ensimmäinen osa onpi tässä. Syytän nostalgiafiiliksestä ainakin osittain That Guy:n (linkeissä) Nostalgia Critic videoita. Koska jenkeillä kuitenkin on muistoja vähän toisista asioista kun meillä täällä Suomessa, ajattelin koota yhteen mukavia muistoja omasta lapsuudesta. Haastan myös kaikki muut ysärillä lapsuuttaan viettäneet kaivelemaan päätään!

Nyt vuorossa ovat siis aikakauden lelut omasta näkövinkkelistäni.

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My Little Ponit

Nämä olivat kova juttu meikätytölle. Perimätiedon mukaan kutsuin niitä jossain vaiheessa "mailitus"poneiksi xD. Yllä oleva, mallista tänään piirtämäni poni (Boysenberry Pie) on yksi omistamistani. Muistaakseni kokoelmassani oli jotain parikymmentä ponia, mikä oli tuohon aikaan hirveästi. Kaikki ponini olivat G1 eli ensimmäistä, "sitä oikeaa" sukupolvea. Lemppareitani olivat yksisarviset ja pegasus-ponit, luultavasti MLP tv-sarjan vaikutuksen takia: ovathan taikavoimat ja lentotaito ihmeellisiä ominaisuuksia. Tv-sarja antoi myös ideoita ponileikkeihin, joissa usein piti muun muassa varoittaa joitain muita poneja lähestyvästä vaarasta tai lentää suuria matkoja (toisin sanoen mentiin ympäri huonetta poni kädessä). Leikin poneilla myös ulkona ja kylvyssä xD

Pitää jossain vaiheessa sukeltaa synnyinkodin varastoon nostalgisoimaan vähän lisää :)

P.S. Nostalgiannälkään löytyy hyvä englanninkielinen, kataloginomainen ponisivu täältä.

Dinosaurukset

Tämän obsession sytytti luultavasti Steven Spielbergin Jurassic Park -leffa silloin kun se tuli joskus töllöstä ensimmäistä kertaa. Jotain vaikutusta oli ehkä myös Maa Aikojen Alussa -elokuvilla, tosin ensimmäinen liskopiirrustukseni ajoittuu 3-5 ikävuoteen eli perustukset olivat kaiketi jo paikoillaan. Muistaakseni sitten Helsingin Luonnontieteellisestä museosta ostettiin ainakin joku kova, muovinen dinosauruslelu. Omistin sitten lopulta kolme dinoa: Spinosauruksen (lemppari), Brontosauruksen ja Brachiosauruksen. Ei ole kyllä harmainta aavistusta mitä tai miten dinoilla leikin. Kai siinä jotain karjahtelua oli :P

Sitten jossain vaiheessa meille hankittiin dinosaurusmuistipeli, joka iskosti mieleen monia eri lajinimiä: Allosaurus, Triceratops, Velociraptor, Pterodactyl(us), Stegosaurus jne. En muista monta kertaa hävinneeni tuossa muistipelissä xD

Barbit

Mitäpä barbeilla ei olisi leikitty? Ystävyyssuhteet, romanssit, lomamatkat ja muotinäytökset kuuluivat kaikki leikkien vakiokalustoon. Barbeilla tuli leikittyä ulkona aika usein. Muistan erityisesti barbit punaisessa avoautossaan kesän vehreällä nurmella ja sen kerran, kun leikimme barbeilla talven pakkassäässä (yritimme silloin rakentaa lumen kovettuneesta pintakerroksesta jotain leikkiin sopivaa). Mieleen on painunut myös yksi viimeisistä leikeistä mummolan hiekkarannalla Baywatch-rekvisiitan kanssa.

Inhosin aina barbien oheistavaroiden mitoituksia: hevoset olivat liian pieniä suhteessa nukkeihin, eikä punaisessa avoautossa totta vie ollut väljät oltavat. Tosin näin jälkeenpäin ajatellen eivät nukkienkaan mittasuhteet olleet kunnossa...

Leikin barbeilla monituiset vuodet, mutta ne eivät onnistuneet tekemään yhtä suurta vaikutusta kuin ML -ponit. Lempibarbini ei tainnut edes olla Barbie vaan joku blondin ruskeahiuksisista ystävistä. Leikkasin myös jossain vaiheessa yhden barbin nilkkaan ulottuvat hiukset todella lyhyiksi, kun taas ponien harjoihin tai häntiin kajoaminen ei olisi tullut kysymykseenkään.

Barbiharrastuksesta on kuitenkin jäänyt tietty alttius muun muassa sellaisia hömpötyksiä kohtaan kuin The Sims 2 -peli. Lapsuuden muotileikkien sijaan latailen netistä peliin kaiken maailman ilmaissisältöä. Virtuaali"barbini" voivat sitten täyttää vaatekaappinsa sadoilla eri luomuksilla ja sisustaa kotinsa paremmin kuin aidot barbit konsanaan. O tempora! O mores!

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Tällaisia lapsuusmuistoja tällä kertaa. Ensi kerralla jotain enemmän aikaan sidottua, nimittäin ysärin lastenohjelmat!

Facebook hulluutta / craziness

Ihan pikapäivitys kyseessä, sillä fb fluffillani Tikillä on nyt myös ei-fluffaajille näkyvät sivut. Syyskuun aikana olen ollut pienoisessa koukussa fluff friends -appsiin, sillä siellä on ollut meneillään hauska aarteenetsintä. Tämän innostuksen myötä kiinnostuin myös fluffien kisaamisesta ja muusta appsin sosiaalisesta puolesta. Tikin löytää osoitteesta:

http://space_pirate_tikki.fluff-friends.com

Jostain syystä kaverin statsit on tuolla sivulla aivan väärin. Nopeutta Tikillä on oikeasti tällä hetkellä siinä 850 fph ja olotila on niinkin hulppea kuin a Genius among species. Yritän selvittää mistä virhe johtuu.
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This is just a quick update to inform you that my fb fluff Tikki is now visible to non-fluffers as well. During September I've been just the slightest bit hooked to the fluff friends -application because of the treasure hunt they've been holding. The hunt also got me interested in fluff racing and the other social aspects of the app. You can find Tikki at:

http://space_pirate_tikki.fluff-friends.com

For some reason his stats are completely off on that site. Tikki actually has the speed of around 850 fph and his mood is as elevated as a Genius among species. I still need to find out the reason for the erroneous info.

sketch: the post human species

Realm: Andage Maga
Origin of Genome: Homo sapiens sapiens

Short description of evolution

It is still under debate whether these creatures can be called one species, due to the lack of constants in their appearance. Some biologists are hesitant to even call them a species for all of them were originally humans. Also, there has been no evidence of them producing offspring, which according to Biodiv Association, marks them as an unviable species at best.

As stated before, these creatures evolve from Homo sapiens sapiens. Evidence through observation indicates that the connecting factor in all cases is the humans' ability to manipulate the reality around them with mere thoughts - an ability our predecessors called "magic". However, not all manipulators evolve to a post human and evidence procured by the unchanged ones attests that the evolution is connected to the scope and frequency of manipulations during their lifetime.

The changes in appearance start from the extremities and once the evolution has begun, every instance of manipulation advances the evolution. The scope of the manipulation is directly related to the force of the change. The last body part to change is the head; after this change the evolution is complete and the individual is counted as belonging to the post human species.

Factors affecting appearance

So far there has been very little data that could explain the diversity in appearance of the post human species. M. Paress of the Biodiv Association is currently studying a possible link between the type of manipulations and the changes they cause in the manipulator's body.

Behavioural patterns in full post humans

The post humans are the most aggressive species found in Andage Maga. They guard their chosen territories furiously, killing and consuming anything that trespasses. Post humans are known to sometimes give chase to the trespassers that have already passed their territory, an action labelled as "vengeance" by L. Kachook. Chances to survive a post human's attack are slim as the species retains some manipulation abilities, which are mostly used to keep the victim from escaping. Most post humans observed use their claws, fangs of other sharp body parts to kill their prey. Playing with still living prey seems to be common behaviour for the species.

Post humans are at their most dangerous immediately after evolution, when they search for a suitable territory. There have been instances where one has destroyed a small settlement that presumably was merely on the way. Once settled on a territory, however, the post humans do not, according to observations made so far, venture beyond the borders of their selected area. This was why, along with the species supposed infertility, Biodiv Association suggested that we try coexist with these creatures. Only time will tell whether our coexistence with our feral siblings is something we are willing to continue.

Sini's short story #01 : The Hummingbird Shoes

A/N pre story: I started this one about a week ago, wrote it on three days (not 'in' because there were days in between typing). It all started with one image - or perhaps a still frame - my mind conjured one evening. Take a wild guess what that was, I think it's pretty obvious. I need to work on my subtlety... Oh, and if anyone knows how to make "livejournal cuts" in blogger, that is hide most of the text behind one click, I'd greatly appreciate it if you taught me how to do it.

Now, onto the story.


The Hummingbird Shoes
- by SiniSketch -

The sharp click of heels ping-ponged from the soulless monochrome walls of the long, claustrophobic corridor. The sound preceded her, a helpless herald to a steadily approaching doom.

In fairy tales, the cold halogen lights illuminating the way would surely have dimmed at her passing, shadowed her unchanging, statue expression from non-existent observers.

However, this was no flimsy story of one-dimensional villainy. The only shroud covering her was of her own making, concealing the equations churning in her razor mind. No one in the facility of corridors, the beehive of researchers, had ever cared to try to breach her skin.

Her metronome steps took her soon to the door at the very end of the corridor. At the sweep of a clearance card the reinforced metal doors slid open, exposing the den of data to her disinterested gaze.

One high-heeled shoe caught the glare of the halogen lights in the brief moment she passed through the door. The carcass of a hummingbird flared emerald, a fresh kill, still glorious.

The laboratory door closed with false finality behind her. A clipboard held loosely at the crook of her arm was flipped to a writing position in one efficient move as she set out to inspect the incubators. The quiet scratch of her mechanical pen was the only sound to mingle with the clacking of heels against standardised flooring.

The bacteria were growing well, she noted and scribbled down her observations. All Petri dishes were carefully studied but with no more attention nor interest than necessary. The common, harmless bacteria cultivated, manipulated and stored here lacked potential.

Having completed the menial task, she briskly signed the report and placed it in a wall rack that existed for this function only.

She glanced finally at the other door in the far end of the laboratory. For the first time in the span of weeks her carefully rouged lips curved into a real smile. In a fairy tale, the evil witch would have smirked, perhaps cackled crow-like. Here, the smile was genuinely happy, a more terrible thing to fathom than any open cruelty.

She approached this door with slow, savouring steps. Years and years of her life had been spent to gain access to the rooms behind it. Her coffee hair was now streaked with grey, her soft features sharpened with age. Yet the most changes had occurred in the intangible depths of her mind, cause and effect chocking her in their strangling embrace.

Hatred had blossomed.

The emotion carried her feet to the door, spurred her as she wielded once more her toiled-for clearance card. The heavy metallic slab hissed slowly aside.

The room was small. Six suits were lined on the wall, marked with a symbol society feared more than nuclear weapons. An array of strong and a few lethally toxic chemicals were stored in the locked cupboards on either side of the metal door. There was a plain industry line sink hugging the wall opposite her. Two benches crouched near the side walls, weary sentries stooping from ages of servitude.

She pursed her lips. This was no time to dawdle.

One last barricade remained. Two imposing, vault-like doors fixed in an airlock sequence, operable only from this room, guarded the common beast turned predator. Beyond the doors lay history reborn, time machine so carelessly restrained.

Muscles straining, she struggled open the first door, breaking a nail while operating the mechanics. Taking a deep breath without realising it, she stepped into the space between the doors and closed the first one, hand shaking from a mercurial concoction of excitement and fear. Fear of failure tore at her intestines. She grasped the controls of the second door with a sweaty grip. The locks shifted with startling clangs, lending their voices to the drama.

The stark box of a laboratory revealed at last was a study of seals and layers of see-through materials. The containment space stood altar-like in the very centre of the room, punctured by four pairs of long, unnerving black gloves.

She reached into the pocket of her white coat and brought out a colourless cutter worth five months' pay. With a grim look on her face, she slashed repeatedly at one glove, which endured the relentless assault for almost ten seconds before puncturing and finally tearing. She swallowed and pushed her hand through the gap, fingers curling around a culture she had been working to perfect.

The countless hours had finally paid off. She held in her hand a highly resistant and extremely virulent variant of Yersinia pestis.

Heels flashing gleaming green, she hurried back through the double doors and very nearly threw herself on a bench. Sitting there, she was condemned with a wrench of a lid.

Paranoia had kept cameras out of this room and the small laboratory. Mistrust of the security personnel was deeply ingrained, and the scientists guarded their treasure trove with dragon-like zeal. Their secrecy had aided her plans immensely.

She reached to the underside of the bench, well-manicured nails working under strips of tape lurking in the shadow. A rectangular tube greeted the white light of the halogens. Her deft fingers flew over a set of keys on one side, opening a receptacle space at one end of the tube. The opened Petri dish was pushed inside and fixed in the device with a tap of a key. She bit her lip. This was it. The last phase had begun.

After a complex sequence of keystrokes, the device came to life. Humming. The screech of a diamond against a window pane. Clack! Hiss. Over and over again the sounds leapt from the tube. She felt cold sweat on her brow.

Silence.

The hummingbird shoes carried her to the sink. The two rooms had a separate ventilation system from the rest of the facility but the water...

She turned on the cold water tap.

Manipulating the other end of the now tranquil tube open, she watched with watering eyes as what appeared to her human sight as grains poured down to mingle with the colourless liquid. For the briefest moments they danced, water and tiny capsules. Then the drain slurped them down.

She stared after them and after litres of water that followed. Finally, a shudder brought her to her knees like a worshipper in front of their deity.

It was now out of her hands. She did not know if the capsules would survive the sewers long enough to find their way to the rats. The messengers. She could not predict how, if at all, her little gift to humanity would find its way to the recipients. So many possible outcomes. One certain.

The tube gave a meek click as it released the Petri dish. The gaze that met the cultivated surface was shuttered. This was the last confession.

A single, slow lick.


A/N post story: I have to say here that I wondered if I should post this story today, after what has happened here in Finland. I came to the conclusion that my bit of fiction is dissimilar enough to the school shooting that it shouldn't aggravate anyone too much, which is why I posted it as planned.

As to the short story itself, the focus was on illustrating what this person does. Everything else, her reasons and identity, location, date, backstory, was left out. I wanted readers to fill out the blanks themselves, ponder a bit. Do you think she's a monster? A misanthrophist? Plain old nutter? I know what I think, but that is not in any way the "truth".

The open ending is one of the things I've become to appreciate over the years. It leaves room for a multitude of interpretations, which for a person like me who hates overly masticated endings is really the only way to go.

Well, thassit, thanks for reading. Until next time.