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artificialqueens · 4 years

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wild flower, chapter one (shalaska) 1/10 - freyja

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting here, so please be gentle! All I know is that no one was going to write my shalaska cowboy AU for me. Also if anyone is interested in betaing… please. Let me know.

🌼

“Wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves, yet give a piece of who they are to everyone they meet. If you have met one, hold on to her, she’ll allow you into her chaos, but she’ll also show you her magic.”

🌼

Alaska has always been fascinated with bandits.

Bandits, criminals, gangs - anyone with a bounty on their head. Not that the bounty or even the criminality of it all attracted her - no, it was the freedom.

Alaska has also always been wealthy.

These two constants do not go well together.

As a child, the contrast was easier to navigate, as her only duties were her lessons, and the rest of her time was spent however she wanted to spend it. Her wildness was enacted through imaginary horses and people to shoot, drawing from the tales of her father’s friends from the West. She had grass stains on her skirts constantly, and although her mother berated her for her unladylike play, it could be chalked up to just that: play.

As she got older, the contrast was too much. She was in polite society, she needed to find a husband, and she was the lady of the household. She had to give up one, wealth or freedom, and only one made sense to let go of. It wasn’t a hard choice, anyway - she’d stopped believing in running wild on the frontier somewhere around her mother’s death.

Which is why, when her father tells her she’ll be visiting her uncle in Colorado for the summer, the thrill she might have gotten as a child is absent in the place of a sickening dread that sits in her stomach like a dead weight.

“He’s invited you,” he’d said to a stunned Alaska over breakfast one morning. “And I thought you could use the fresh air - God knows this city is starting to smell now that it’s thawing.”

Alaska had pressed her lips together, frowning at him. “I don’t–”

“I told him you would love to go,” her father had interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “This is a great way to find someone wealthy to marry, since the options here clearly aren’t up to your standards.”

The snide comment hadn’t gone past her, and she’d lapsed back into silence, unable to argue and tell him that her ‘standards’ won’t ever be met, so tough luck. That wasn’t an option, especially considering her father’s newspaper wasn’t selling as much now that the war was over.

This visit is her last chance to find a husband wealthy enough to make it worth it, and she knows that she needs to return to her father with a ring on her finger.

Now, she sits on the train to Coady, heart heavy with her resolution. She looks out the window to take her mind off of the sick feeling in her stomach, clenching her fist in the folds of her skirt. It’s easy to get lost in the pale browns and greens of the plains, easy to feel comfort in the mountains that look blue in the distance. It’s easier to think that maybe she’ll find a man she really loves if he comes from a place that looks like this.

She nearly laughs at herself. Unlikely.

🌸

Alaska has been in Colorado a week, and there has been no mention of a ball, or even of a dinner. She hasn’t seen another person besides her uncle and his servants - and even then, it’s mostly been his servants. If it isn’t mealtime, her uncle is locked in his office, going over papers and sending out letters at least twice a day.

Alaska has picked up enough of the servants’ whispered gossip to understand that his plantation has been slowly going under in the eight years it’s been since the war, and her uncle has now been reduced to scraping the bottom of the barrel for his income. She isn’t sympathetic - it’s deserved.

Things, however, are getting a little boring.

She sighs, turning over in bed and staring at the stars through the large window in her room, the wind blowing the linen curtains in a hypnotizing manner. Three months of nothing, and she won’t even get a husband out of it.

No husband. She allows herself a moment to pretend like it was a possibility, something like longing trapping itself in her throat.

She’s just closing her eyes to sleep when the sound of a horse galloping towards the house makes them shoot open, a man shouting her uncle’s name as the horse’s hoofbeats slow to a stop.

“Thunder!” the man bellows. He begins pounding on the door, each knock seemingly louder than the last. “Philip Thunder, get your ass out here!”

Alaska slips out of bed, heart pounding, and kneels beside the window. She’s at a decent enough angle that she can see the man clearly, his horse standing a few feet behind him. It’s hard to see in the darkness, but it’s clear he isn’t a gentleman, with a dusty gallon hat on his head that shields his face and a dirty jacket to match. There’s a long rifle hooked onto his horse, and her eyes widen at the sight.

The door swings open, and her uncle emerges with a lantern, looking hunted. “Be quiet!” he snaps in a hushed whisper, and Alaska has to strain to hear him. “You’re going to wake the whole household.”

“They know,” the man says simply, ignoring her uncle. He has a thick accent, and it’s jarring next to her uncle’s harsh New York vowels. Her uncle’s arm sags at the news, lowering the lantern so that their faces are barely lit. Alaska hisses in frustration, narrowing her eyes to try and read their expressions.

“Needles?” her uncle says, voice even quieter. Alaska risks poking her head out the window a little bit in order to hear better, holding her breath in fear of being caught.

“No, the fuckin’ Pope,” the man sneers. “Who the fuck else?”

Her uncle’s response is drowned out by the locusts buzzing in the trees. There’s a long period of silence, and Alaska can hear her heart beating in her ears, adrenaline running through her veins in response to listening to a conversation she shouldn’t. What the hell was going on?

“So?” the man prompts, stepping closer to her uncle. “What do you suggest we do?”

There’s a pause as her uncle visibly takes a breath. “Come here tomorrow at supper,” he says, voice a little stronger now. “Bring Solomon. We can make a plan then.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Needles is onto us, which means–”

“I know!” Her uncle snaps, posture stiffening. “Trust me, I’m well aware. I can’t make a plan right now. Give me a day, and we’ll discuss the rest tomorrow. I promise we’ll get out of this.”

“If we don’t,” the man says, voice low, “Needles isn’t the one you need to watch out for.” And with that, he steps back, walking back to his horse. “Expect us at six,” he says as he swings up on his horse, and with that, he gallops away, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Her uncle stands there for a long time, staring in the direction he went even after he’s no longer visible. All Alaska can hear is the locusts’ chirping.

Her uncle, finally, turns to go inside, and she ducks under the window sill as the lantern light swings over the side of the house. She listens as he opens the door, muttering something incomprehensible, and shuts it behind him. The stairs creak as he returns to his room, and she doesn’t let herself relax until she hears his door close quietly.

She sags against the wall, brushing the hair sticking to her face away and plucking at her nightgown, battling the humidity and her own sweat. She looks at the bed, but she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to sleep, not with the heat and certainly not after what just happened.

It was a gang. It couldn’t be anything else - it wasn’t any sort of legal business, judging by the other man’s appearance. Her uncle was dealing with bandits and criminals, probably to help him out of whatever debt he’s put himself into in order to keep this place afloat.

A fission of excitement runs through her even through the fear and apprehension, and she can’t help but think that at least something is happening. Even if it’s putting everyone in the house’s lives at risk.

You can’t trust a bandit. They’re lawless, and the law exists for a reason: to keep people sane. Who knows what these men will do to her uncle if this Needles ends up finding them?

Who knows what Needles is going to do to them if he ends up finding them?

The thrill is fading away now, giving way to real fear. This is real. Bandits are real, but they’re not like what Alaska dreamed them up to be as a child. They kill people, innocent or not, and they steal whatever they want. They live like animals and call it freedom.

They’re all these things, and they’re coming to dine with them at her uncle’s like they’re family friends.

Alaska is definitely not getting any sleep tonight.

🌼

Dinner is awkward.

It’s spent in silence, the dirty, roughed up men clearly unsure of how to behave at a proper dining table and her uncle silent with embarrassment over it. There are four of them, all with scruffy beards and pistols on their belts, with the clear leader sitting to her uncle’s right.

One of the men coughs, and Alaska jumps at the sudden noise.

“Jesus,” she mutters to herself, ignoring her uncle’s sharp look and instead setting down her fork. She looks at Philip, plastering as pleasant and unassuming a smile she can muster over her face. “May I be excused?”

The leader of the group, Cassidy, slumps in relief. “Thank God,” he says loudly, and she recognizes his voice as the man her uncle had spoken to last night. “We can get some business done.”

Her uncle gives him a disbelieving look, and Alaska tries to look like she doesn’t have a clue as to what he’s talking about. Cassidy raises his hands in silent apology, and her uncle sighs, rubbing his eyes. He looks stressed out of his mind.

“You can go, Alaska,” he says, having lost any sense of decorum with Cassidy’s language.

Alaska nods at him, and then she’s out of the dining room in a second.

She slips out the door with a quiet notice to one of the servants, intent on walking her anxieties out around the grounds and hoping that she’ll tire herself out to the point of becoming calm. With half a mind to ride a little before the sun sets, she decides to head towards the stables, well away from anything happening inside the house.

Expecting to be alone once she reaches the stables, Alaska nearly screams as she runs into a woman leaning against one of the stalls, petting Poundcake’s nose.

“Jesus!” Alaska yelps, and the woman snaps to attention, hand at her hip in the blink of an eye. She lets her hand hover there, eyes wary as she stares at Alaska.

“I’m so sorry,” Alaska says, raising her hands up in apology. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The woman frowns at her, seemingly confused. Her hand drifts away from her hip, and Alaska’s eyes follow it, briefly distracted by the tight pants she’s wearing. It’s scandalous, and Alaska is beginning to understand why.

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alaska says into the tense silence, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the woman’s hips and to her face.

“Interrupt?” The woman asks, still frowning. She’s relaxing, however, and Alaska feels strangely gratified by it.

“Your stable work,” Alaska says. “You’re the stablehand, right?”

The woman’s eyebrows twitch up before her lips twist up into a smirk. The expression suits her. “Right. Well, I’m not bothered.” She gives Alaska a clear once over, her smirk only growing. “Not at all.”

Alaska feels a flush crawl up her neck, her dress suddenly feeling a little warm. “Great,” she says, awkward. “I came - I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Let me guess: a man?”

Alaska snorts, even as the reminder makes something unpleasant churn in her stomach. “More like several.” The woman just smiles, revealing a small gap between her teeth. It’s strangely endearing. Alaska quickly shoves the thought away, afraid of it leading to more dangerous ones, and instead takes the opportunity to examine the woman’s strange outfit.

She looks more like a cattle rustler than a stablehand, with her wide brimmed hat and dark overcoat, but Alaska supposes things are different out west. Her hair is down, reaching the middle of her shoulder blades and blowing attractively in the wind. It’s so dark that, when paired with her dark hat, her face appears almost ghostly.

She’s beautiful, with her high cheekbones and plump lips, but there’s something about her that puts Alaska on edge.

“What?” the woman says, tilting her head. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re beautiful,” Alaska blurts out, and then her heart stops. “I mean no, wait, no, I mean–”

“What’s your name?” the woman cuts in, and Alaska grabs onto the question like a lifeline.

“Alaska,” she says in relief.

“Pleasure,” the woman says, smirking again. There’s a brief pause before she lets out a huff of laughter. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

Alaska laughs. “Knowing the stablehands isn’t exactly my priority,” she says, allowing her own smirk to come through. “But now it seems like it should have been.”

The woman smiles slowly, her expression softening. Alaska feels something flutter in her stomach at the thought that she may have caused the shift. “You sure know how to flatter a girl,” the woman says. There’s a moment in which she just looks at Alaska, eyes darting across her face. “Sharon Needles.”

Alaska’s heart stops, smirk falling off of her face in an instant. “Needles?” she repeats faintly, even though Sharon had been perfectly clear. “You’re Needles? I thought–”

“I was a man?” Sharon says archly, annoyance flickering across her face. “You’re not the first.”

“Your poster,” Alaska says slowly, feeling incredibly stupid. The stablehand? Really? “It was hanging at the train station.”

Sharon sighs, eyes rolling up to the sky. “Stupid,” she mutters, seemingly to herself, and then, louder: “I’ll never rob an artist again. Those bastards have no fucking money and an eye for detail.”

“I don’t know, that chin is pretty memorable,” Alaska says before she can think about it, and there’s a second of frozen shock before Sharon starts to laugh.

“I like you,” Sharon says approvingly. “You’ve got balls.”

Alaska really, really shouldn’t be flattered. “Thanks,” she drawls, and she takes a step back. Her sense of danger is heightening, despite Sharon’s calm and her surprising humor. With the stories Alaska had heard, she had pictured bandits to be no-nonsense men with hearts of steel, cold blooded killers and thieves that were too good to be caught. Sharon doesn’t seem to be fitting any of those descriptors.

She should really run, warn her uncle while she still has some time. But some sick part of her is intrigued, attracted to this woman, and she can’t bring herself to shout like she should.

“Why are you here?” she asks again, even though she already knows the answer.

“We have some business with Mr. Solomon ____” Sharon says, and it’s like a curtain’s been drawn over her face. The twinkle in her eyes has turned into something like a spark of anger. “He’s been plotting something, and I intend to nip it in the fucking bud.” She shifts a little, her coat moving to reveal a leather holster at her hip. It feels like the air gets twenty degrees colder.

Alaska feels like she can barely breathe. She takes a step back.

The ‘Solomon isn’t here’ gets caught in her throat, another part of the sentence catching her attention. “‘We’?”

A slow smirk spreads across Sharon’s face. “Oops,” she says. “I’ve always had a hard time keeping secrets.” And quick as a rattlesnake, she draws her pistol and fires it once into the air. Alaska flinches violently at the sound of it, breath coming in strange stutters as adrenaline rushes through her. A responding gunshot sounds somewhere in the distance, along with growing shouts.

Alaska runs.

She flies up the hill, Sharon’s laugh chasing her like some sort of nightmare, whoops and hollers echoing off of the valley walls from all directions. She’s halfway to the house when a horse suddenly shoots past her, and she trips over her skirt in shock, falling to her hands and knees with a painful jolt. She looks up to see Sharon riding it, heading somewhere to the left of the house.

It’s stupid to feel betrayed. She’d talked to Sharon for less than ten minutes, and Sharon hadn’t even tried to hide who she was. Hell, Alaska had given her the only lie she told.

It’s stupid, and Alaska shoves the feeling aside. There are more important things to be worrying about.

She scrambles to her feet and keeps running, ignoring the temptation to flee the other way.

She bursts into the house, turning and slamming the door shut behind her, locking it. She turns to see her uncle, Cassidy, and the other men all emerging from the office, guns drawn and looking hunted.

“Alaska?” her uncle says, frowning. “Did you see something out there?”

“No,” she lies, because she can’t tell him that she was too fucking entranced by Sharon Needles to do anything. “But I heard something.”

“We all fucking heard something,” one of the men snaps, referring to the sound of pounding hooves, and distant shouts surrounding the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Cassidy says, pointing his gun alternately between the windows and the door. He sounds accusatory, like he blames her uncle for what’s going down, and Alaska finds herself half agreeing.

She shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t - her uncle shouldn’t have invited her here when he was at risk. It was - it was wrong. Anger boils up within her, and it feels better than fear, so she grabs onto it. “What were you guys even doing?” she cries.

Her uncle looks at her, wide eyed. He looks guilty, but Alaska is far past forgiveness, not when gunshots can be heard just outside the house. “I’m sorry, Alaska,” he says, brow furrowed. “I didn’t think it would get this out of hand.”

“You had wanted criminals over for dinner,” Alaska snaps. “How can you - how - ?” She’s tripping over her words, just like she always does when she’s upset, and it’s only making her angrier.

Her uncle grimaces, but before he can respond a sudden pounding on the door has everyone falling into a tense silence. The hoofbeats have stopped - it’s completely silent. They all point their guns at the door.

“Open up, motherfuckers!” a voice shouts.

Someone shoots the lock off, and the door slowly swings open. They all wait with baited breath. Cassidy steps forward, lining his gun up. Alaska takes several steps back, nearly going into the office, breathing so hard she feels like she’s going to be sick.

There are two beats of silence.

Her uncle frowns, gun lowering a little in his confusion. “Wh–”

Two deafening shots echo from the windows on either side of them, shattering the glass, and two of the five men drop dead. Alaska can’t help the scream she lets out, flinching wildly.

“Fuck!” Cassidy shouts, making an aborted attempt to go towards one of the bodies before remembering that he still needs to be on his guard. “Jesus shit!”

The door is kicked open suddenly, making Alaska jump. The woman that stands in the doorway is tall, with sharp features and an amused smirk. Alaska recognizes her from the other poster that had been beside Sharon’s, the unusual name catching her attention more than Sharon’s.

Detox.

“Where’s Solomon?” Detox says, pointing right back at Cassidy.

He doesn’t answer, and she takes another step forward. “I said–”

“He’s not here.” Sharon steps out from behind Detox, gun drawn and smug smirk still firmly in place. “He’s smarter than that.”

“Surprising,” Detox says, and Sharon snorts. She hasn’t bothered to raise her gun, and Alaska wants to scream at her uncle or the other man to do something.

“He wouldn’t be the annoyance that he is if he wasn’t.” Sharon says before pointing her gun at Alaska’s uncle almost lazily, like it had been an afterthought. It makes Alaska’s blood boil, both at Sharon’s arrogance and her uncle for feeding into it by being an idiot.

Sharon glances at the right window and jerks her head.

A shot rings out, and Cassidy’s last man drops nearly instantaneously with a cry of pain, and Alaska jumps again, unable to keep herself from squeaking, a little. It’s a harsh reminder of the steel trap that Sharon has them in, and Alaska hates that she needed her memory jogged.

Two women slide into the house through the windows, one hispanic and a little heavier, and the other white and stick thin, face covered in freckles. They both wear their hair in two braids, honey blonde and brown respectively, and they both look like they’re having the time of their lives.

“Alright,” Sharon says, using her gun to talk like an extension of her hand. Her blasé tone is disconcerting, and Alaska shrinks further into the office. “You’ve got two choices: tell us where Solomon is, or,” she holds up her gun and shrugs.

Both Cassidy and Alaska’s uncle remain silent, Cassidy staring Sharon in the face and her uncle twisting around to look at Alaska.

She wills him to turn back around, to stop drawing attention to her already mediocre hiding spot, but he starts to mouth something instead, nodding his head towards the office. After two times, she understands: burn it.

“What are you doing?” the woman with brown braids asks, voice harsher that Alaska would have guessed.

Sharon looks at her for the first time since she’s entered the house. Alaska feels frozen under her stare.

“Alaska!” her uncle snaps, and it works: she snaps out of it, adrenaline flooding her body and moving as quickly as she possibly can.

She steps back into the office and slams the door shut behind her, locking it with shaking hands. Terrifying shouts and bangs immediately start as soon as the lock slides into place, but they’re muffled, and Alaska knows she has limited time to do what her uncle needs before they find a way in.

She turns to the desk, eyes moving from place to place without direction before finally landing on the map lying across the desk, ink marks scattered all over it. She rushes to the desk to pick it up, and after a moment of examining it, she knows that what her uncle needs her to do is destroy it.

It’s a map detailing the location of a camp, presumably Solomon’s, and possible escape routes and alternate locations. If Sharon got her hands on this, the camp would be completely fucked. She would win whatever rivalry is going on between the two gangs with ease, and Solomon and her uncle would have no chance.

Alaska reaches for the lantern to burn the map in, but she hesitates. Would it be terrible if they got the map? It would end the rivalry, and it isn’t like her uncle isn’t already in as much danger as he could be in. He isn’t living in this camp, and Alaska couldn’t give a fuck about Solomon or Cassidy.

But does she want Sharon to win?

She stares at it, doing her best to memorize the map and the twisting ink paths. Keeping the map whole isn’t an option, but she thinks - she needs to have some leverage, here. If something should happen to her, who she wants to win regardless, she needs to have something that makes her useful.

She isn’t nearly as familiar with it as she’d like to be when a thud suddenly rattles the door to the office, making her jump nearly ten feet in the air. The door thuds again, the hinges rattling, and Alaska starts folding the map so that it can fit into the lantern, shoving it into the flame just as the door flies open and strong hands grab her from behind.

Alaska screams, kicking and trying to hit her assailant with her elbows.

“Jesus Christ,” someone hisses, and Alaska thinks she recognizes the voice as Detox’s. She flings her elbow back again, newly desperate, only to have it caught by one of Detox’s hands. Detox grabs her other arm as well, and Alaska’s arms are soon twisted around her back in such a way that she can’t move them no matter how hard she tries.

It’s utterly terrifying, and Alaska can’t help but let out a little sob as Detox forces her out of the office and into the parlor, where the brunette woman with the twin braids has Cassidy on his knees. Her uncle is nowhere to be seen.

“Where is–” she starts, voice growing into a shout, but Sharon cuts her off, her own tone surprisingly heated.

“Bastard got away,” she says, scowling. “I’m not sure how, considering how many of us there are, but he’s fucking gone.”

“Thank God,” Alaska says, relieved. She ignores the feeling of being abandoned. One of them had to get away, had to be able to get the law. It just happened to be him. “Thank fucking God.”

Sharon’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s no way a lady should speak,” she says, and the blonde woman snickers. Alaska glares at her.

“I’m not exactly going to give you the respect of polite society,” she snarls. “Now let me go!” She jerks fruitlessly at Detox’s grip, and Sharon laughs, coming closer. Alaska wants to hurt her, wants to make her feel as scared and angry as she is right now.

“We can’t let you go,” Sharon says, fake pouting. “Sorry. But your uncle had you do something in that office, and with him gone, you’re our only shot at finding out just what it was.”

Alaska falls silent, unable to think of a comeback that won’t put her at risk in one way or another. She needs to know something to prove herself too valuable to kill. But because she knows something, she’s going to be taken away. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Sharon is both Charbydis and Scylla.

Alaska settles for glaring at Sharon, who only grins back. Alaska does not think about how the gap in her teeth still makes her stomach flutter.

Sharon turns away, smile fading in favor of a more serious look. She looks at the brunette woman. “Morgan, shoot Cassidy. We need to leave.”

“What?” Cassidy splutters, eyes wide. Alaska is surprised to see him reduced to such a mess. “I don’t–”

“Shut up,” Sharon sneers, walking over to and kicking him in the stomach. He curls in on himself, wheezing, and Alaska winces in sympathy. “We don’t need to hear your side of the story. I’ve already heard three different girls’, and frankly, I’m exhausted.”

Morgan suddenly pistol whips Cassidy across the face, and he drops like a brick, groaning. She spits on him.

“Make it quick, Morgan,” Sharon says sharply. “The law’s already crawling up my ass as it is, and Thunder’s gonna return with the entire fucking Union.”

“No problem,” Morgan says, and she shoots him twice.

They’re not kind shots - one in the knee and the other in his stomach. The scream he lets out raises the hair on Alaska’s arms, and she feels a terror like she’s never known before. She thinks briefly about jerking away and running, but she feels rooted to the spot, staring down at Cassidy’s writhing body. Not like she’d actually escape Detox, anyway.

Another shot makes her jump, and Cassidy falls limp. “I said make it quick,” Sharon says, tucking her gun back into her belt. Alaska hadn’t even seen her move.

“I missed,” Morgan shrugs, but she doesn’t sound apologetic about it.

“Sure,” Sharon says doubtfully, but there’s a strange affection in her tone that undermines any reprimand. Her gaze suddenly lands on Alaska, and she’s back to smirking. “Excuse her,” she says. “She hasn’t been out in a while.”

“Rude,” Morgan snorts. She tucks her two pistols into their holsters, spinning them as she does.

“We need to go,” Detox says. Alaska tries not to cringe away from the voice close to her ear. She wants to retain at least some dignity.

“You’re right,” Sharon says. “Sorry. Got distracted.” She winks at Alaska, and Alaska’s stomach squirms with hatred and an unwilling attraction. She blames her childhood fanaticism.

They exit the house quickly, swinging up onto their horses, Morgan and the other woman speeding away immediately. Detox and Alaska still remain on foot, Alaska’s arms beginning to go numb with how far they’re strained behind her.

“Detox,” Sharon calls from on top of an enormous black Friesian. “She can go with me.”

“What? Why?” Alaska asks harshly as Detox leads her over.

“A little bonding never hurt anyone,” Sharon answers, smirking. Detox swings Alaska up behind her with an alarming ease, and Alaska balances herself, nearly falling off immediately.

Sharon looks at the house and then at Detox, and as Alaska is debating the pros and cons of sliding off the horse and running, she says something that makes Alaska’s blood run cold.

“Burn it.”

“No,” Alaska breathes. But something in her can’t wait to see it in flames.

Sharon eggs her horse into a gallop just as the flames catch onto one of the windowsills, and Alaska stares at the house until she can’t anymore, the orange of the flames burned into the backs of her eyelids.

Loss and relief shouldn’t be felt so soon after one another.

#rpdr fanfiction #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #detox icunt #morgan mcmichaels #shalaska #lesbian au #cowboy au #wild flower #freyja #tw murder #tw guns #tw violence #tw kidnapping

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theangrypokemaniac · 4 years

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I'll state from the beginning that the images below display the sort of sweet synchronicity to which only love can give life:

MaAndPaShipping is the best ship, and here are five reasons why:

1. It Made James

Like the boy do yer? Ever felt the slightest tingle of warmth at the mention of his name?

Well get down on yer knees and give thanks to his mother and father for gifting him to the world!

Where would we be without their remarkable commitment? Could James have grown into the dandified dream boat of your desires if deprived of the safety provided by his parents?

Had they not brought him up, he'd be dead, The Dog of Flanders fantasy made reality. If miraculously he survived, foraging in the wild is not conducive to a foppish personality.

Is that to yer fancy? No? Then let's have a little respect. The luxury Ma and Pa gave enabled his macaroni tendencies to reach such heights.

Their love created him! How can it not be celebrated?

You lot would ship Jessie's parents but you can't, because she has no dad, and I don't suppose you'll ever assent to his obvious identity of Windy Miller, although 'Jessie Miller' has a wonderful ring to it, so what can be done?

Should a Pa Jess be conjured for the purpose, he still buggered off, didn't he? Where's the allure in a faithless git?

I can't comprehend the obsession with Ma Jess. As soon as here she's stiff, and what is there to remember but coercing her daughter into eating snow?

Hey, I named her. What more do you want from me?

I'd rather have the living, visible ancestors, if you don't mind.

Yeah, says the history fanatic.

Why not make the most of the chances offered, and follow a devoted couple whose love made a difference to your existence?

2. Canon!

There are many ships which I find repulsive for involving depravity, or absurd as the subjects haven't met, or don't inhabit the same fictional universe.

Video et taceo: I see and I say nothing.

Neither does anyone. Forcing decent folk in to incest, bestiality etc. is quite alright.

Perverted ideas are left alone, but woe betide a Rocketshipper, because that's offensive.

It may be the only original ship left standing, with proper evidence and sanctioned by Nintendo, but no, it's fair game for undermining. People pick at your arguments, quibble constantly and NEED to register their objections NOW. You MUST be made aware of opposition. You're not to be permitted your views the way those with twisted tastes are indulged.

Why, out of tens of thousands of combinations, does making Jessie and James an item provoke hostility?

The strength of negativity actually serves as validation, for why be so concerned if it's an impossible relationship?

However sick they are, I'm not anti any ship. I can't muster sufficient interest to do it, and if I scroll on, I forget. I certainly don't attack those responsible.

Anti-Shipping is inherently nihilistic for promoting loneliness. They aren't against Rocketshipping through wanting Jessie and James to be with someone else, as an alternative is not readily available, so the outcome of it is neither finding a companion.

MaAndPaShipping attracts no sourpuss silliness, for 'tis canon beyond question. There's nothing about being 'just friends' when married with a son.

How's the state of your O.T.P.? Not looking too clever I expect, and what's your contribution: wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying?

Cast it off! None of that longing is necessary in these quarters, as MaAndPaShipping is a fait accompli.

Hallelujah! Wallow in that Love!

Don't you yearn for at least one ship that all of us accept by default, to the extent these aristocrats are spoken of as a single unit?

Across the internet, Ma and Pa are bracketed as 'James's parents', never 'he' and 'she', always 'they', barely counting as distinct characters. That's how undeniable the love is between them. Sheer indifference has awarded it a blessing from everyone.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

Of course, now I've drawn attention to it the moaning will start, but we all know a spoilsport when we see one.

If they had any legitimate complaints they ought to have mentioned 'em before this piece highlighted the marriage!

Except it won't have occurred to 'em previously, proving the eternal, indissoluble quality of MaAndPaShipping.

You get good value with this one.

Find a post referring to Ma and Pa as individuals and I'll have written it, for that's what you call ironic.

3. It's a Fine Rocketshipping Proxy

I was at primary school when Pokémon hit the West like the bright, bearded meteor it is, atomizing all competition for a child's attention.

I have shipped Jessie and James before I knew anyone else did it, unaware shipping was even a thing.

There are other pairs where I think: 'That seems to fit', but it's incomparable to what I feel for them.

It is part of me. I bleed it.

I have shipped it longer than most Tumblerries have dwelt upon the earth.

I used to believe, what with the hints and manga finale, that this resolution was inevitable, and all I had to do was wait.

Well I've been patient for two decades now, thus when I look at the modern incarnation, and realise it's no nearer to that goal, and instead is further away, waiting starts to wear a bit thin.

I resent the lack of appreciation shown to the fans by the cretins in charge, how any meagre shippy inclusion is done not with an interest in deepening bonds, but with the blatant cynicism of moulding us into performing monkeys dancing to their manipulative tune.

I dislike being treated like a sea lion, expected to clap me flippers at the wave of a fish, or as a panting dog begging at top table, where, because they're desperate to maintain the status quo, every scrap flung down from above now comes with an Anti-Ship kick in the teeth, just to be sure nothing progresses. Not whilst the franchise can still be milked for all it's worth.

I have lost faith Rocketshipping will happen. What passes for Pokémon today carries not the remotest indication of any intention on the so-called writers' part to finish it that way.

Even if it did, it's not my Team Rocket, it's those skeletal, gargoyle bastardisations. My Jessie and James never got the reward they deserved.

I'm somewhat in the market for a replacement. Beneath this loathsome carapace of acid and ice beats the tender heart of a true romantic, and it must have an outlet!

Shipping Ma and Pa provides a certain spurious relief, because it's as close as you can get to Jessie and James without it being them, both biologically as his parents, but they're so similar to the duo it counts as proof in itself.

Holy Matrimony! is prime Rocketshipping territory, not merely the balloon lift, but many slight additions are as important, like the haircuts matching.

Ma and Pa are therefore Jessie and James in the past, present and future:

The past for representing Jess 'n' Jamie gone Victorian, and we've all wondered how that'd turn out.

The present as it's there right now, absent of suffering the shameless whims of morons to get what you want. 'Tis yours to savour.

The future as a glimpse of Jessie and James once married with children, and they agree:

That's how they play it given the opportunity!

What, James in blue, for his and Pa's hair, and Jessie wearing purple, like Ma's, with a red shawl for her own, and Ma Jess's orange earrings to copy the beads?

• Money!

• Bun!

• 'Tache!

• Classy pad!

• Fancy gear!

• Pampered pet!

• Identical cups of Earl Grey!

4. Original Blend

Ma and Pa have only got two fans! We care more than the entire fandom has in twenty years!

Rocketshipping art is ten a penny, so why not display a pioneering spirit, sharpen up those pencils and be inspired?

Let your mind expand and marvel at the possibilities of these unchartered territories, and I'll reblog it if it's nice.

Pay attention to the condition of it being nice. I'm not putting up with any old toss.

Real Ma and Pa is what I want too, not those Sinnoh coffin-dodgers.

It's never been done! Every drawing breaks new ground!

I don't like fan fiction, but I wouldn't say 'no' to that either. Recall the 'nice' stipulation again.

Come on, be the first amongst your friends and get ship shape!

5. It Gives Us All Hope

Suppose your favourite amour one day became canon: you imagine that's the end of the matter?

Well it ain't.

Between Ash, Misty, Brock, Jessie, James, Gary and Tracey, there are three-and-a-half out of fourteen parents (Flint doesn't count as a complete man) and one out of twenty-eight grandparents, and that's not enough!

If the series drew to a close with your beloved couple apparently walking into the happily-ever-after, there's no guarantee it'll endure. In fact, the odds are they'll split up within a few years and leave another generation to fend for themselves or starve.

That's right, so don't presume the final episode is all you need to worry about. Can you rest easy knowing it'll go pear-shaped once the camera stops rolling?

It's futile soothing one's worries with:

Oh, but they know what it's like to be alone. They'd never inflict such stress on their children.

Oh really?

Look at that poor showing of grandparents. Either Pokémon has a system reminiscent of the sci-fi film Logan's Run, where everyone over thirty is vapourized, or these disappearing maters and paters were themselves victims of abandonment.

I bet when they settled down, they thought it'd be different for their kids, they'd make sure of it, but no, off they went down that same route of feckless self-indulgence, and that's being kind assuming they intended not to repeat history.

Depressing eh? What's the good in any of us surrendering to romance, real or otherwise, if love is but a mayfly of emotion, and all dreams are doomed to die?

Then Ma and Pa arrive, and suddenly the storm clouds part for a ray of heavenly light.

It's not only that they made the effort in what was probably an arranged marriage and have stayed together from youth, it's that they've stayed together when no one else has, which augments its value.

When separation is commonplace, sticking it out becomes rarer and rarer as any belief in the sanctity of wedlock erodes with every failure.

If they didn't bother, why should I? What's the use when it won't work?

Once that idea enters your head, it's over, and your gloom-laden attitude fulfils itself.

Society is collapsing about Ma and Pa's ears, but they persevere nevertheless, refusing to buckle under the turgid malaise engulfing the arrogant and weak.

It's bloody beautiful, man!

You may suggest an environment of supreme wealth erases normality, and to their class and time period divorce is still taboo, so they don't really have much of choice but to remain wedded.

Ah, but it's not as if they simply tolerate one another for appearances, or carried on for the sake of their son (which is more than anyone else did besides), not when he walked out on them.

They've been married longer than James has lived, so at least eighteen years (don't all squeal at once), and they're still blissfully contented!

They hold hands!

They use terms of endearment like 'dear' and 'my precious'!

They were made for one another!

They work as a team!

They want the same thing for James!

It could bring a stone angel to tears it's so beautiful!

See what success can be achieved when you try? When you endeavour to love the one you're with and make yourself worth loving in return?

Better that than chucking 'em at the first sign of trouble.

Ma and Pa is such an irrevocable union even the despair of losing their only child failed to tear 'em asunder, and that'd defeat many, but not this husband and wife.

Be grateful, for it means all is not in vain.

It doesn't have to be misery and pain: love can last despite the pressure of a wretched, hollow culture bent on self-destruction. Your ship might just succeed too.

God bless 'em for keeping the magic alive!

...

Why do I have the presentiment that I'm going to regret encouraging support?

#maandpashipping #team rocket #ma james #pa james #ma and pa james #james #jessie #james's mom #james's dad #james's parents #rocketshipping #kanto #holy matrimony!

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ecofinisher · 5 years

Text

Day 1: New Years Resolution

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256989/chapters/40581404

Ship: Super Nathan (Evillustrator) x Miss Vixen (Volpina)

Super Nathan and Miss Vixen are their superhero ID in here.

On the Sylvester night, a big part of the Parisians were at the outside the city spending the time with their families together. Under the Eiffel tower was a stage with a rock band playing music for the citizens that stood around watching them play. In front of the stage stood a few securities guarding the place in case any fans try to invade the stage to visit their favorite stars.

Outside the streets, many police and army members were set armed around the feast to be ready to serve, if something happens during the celebration. From above the air, Chat Noir appeared landing next to a tan-skinned army man, followed by the tight suit wearing superhero to retract his baton back and smiled at the guard.

“Good evening sir, is everything going how it should be?” Asked the blonde hero earning a nod from the man.

“Everything clear Chat Noir sir” The man declared making the hero chuckle.

“That’s great and you don’t need to call me sir. Just call me Chat Noir”

“Yes sir!”

“Well….okay, I’ll be around here and in case there is something all the heroes are around here” Chat explained, then left the man alone.

At the stage, the mayor of Paris stood in the stage taking the microphone of the singer, who was leaving the stage along with the band.

“This was the band Zombie Skull Crushers, after a short break, we will start directly with Jagged Stone two new songs one is even new year inspired. Isn’t this fitting?” Asked André Bourgeois earning applause.

On the top of the Eiffel tower Miss Vixen stood leaned to the palisade looking down at the crowd and behind her stood Super Nathan together with Carapace, which were looking at a map of the city.

“Lady Red is over here with Queen Bee, Chat Noir is here with me and Miss Vixen. You were set there at the Trocadero together with Tigress and Venom.” The redhead pointed at the other side of the bridge, where another crowd with younger people were hanging all together while listening to a young DJ’s music.

“Ugh do I really have to be there listening to XY’s music?” Asked Carapace disappointed.

“You can always ask to change with Lady Red or anyone else?” The blue-eyed hero suggested.

“I ask Queen Bee to change” Carapace said walking away leaving the two heroes back.

“I don’t think she will freely leave an XY concert” Super Nathan said jokingly as the superhero decent with the elevator down and the hero turned around and walked at the vixen heroine, then lied his arms on the fence glancing at the brunette, that looked down at the crowd.

“In only five minutes we will be entering into the new year” Super Nathan said. “What do you want next year to get better?” Asked Super Nathan. “Is there something special, you would like to change?”

“Not really” Responded the brunette. “Maybe, that my parents would be more present, at least during special occasions like Christmas or eastern”

“I can understand, that it’s boring for you to be all alone”

“Your mother at least doesn’t have to focus a lot on her job like my parents”

“My mom has also a big responsibility, she sometimes had to do overtime, but the airport does it’s best and sometimes depending on how many hours she has overtime she gets a day off”

“The embassy does so too, if possible or they just give a half day off”

“That’s fine too I guess”

“Yeah,” Miss Vixen said. “What do you want next year to change?”

“Maybe spend more time with my girlfriend?” Super Nathan suggested making Miss Vixen chuckle.

“Aren’t we already?” Asked Miss Vixen making the purple-skinned hero shrug his shoulders.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe I have something else” Super Nathan told looking at a zeppelin, that stood over the sky with a countdown of 50 seconds before the new year.

“Look down at the ships on the Seine. They will soon release the fireworks up”

“Great”

“You know...” Super Nathan said searching on his tablet with his pen for an option. “The fireworks are like paint and the dark sky is the canvas. It’s like art”

“Are you drawing champagne?” The brunette questioned. “We forgot to bring it”

“I’m not into champagne...not even champagne for kids”

“You’re a strange contemporary” Teased the vixen heroine the boy.

“And Cane is into water only. We’re all different”

“I know and if I were you I would move your eyes away from your device-weapon and observe the show, that will start in 15 seconds”

“Don’t worry, I got time, just look at the fireworks and wait”

“Alright….Nathan, watch out it’s time to countdown!”

“I’m nearly done, just wait a bit,” Super Nathan said afterward Miss Vixen glanced down at the crowd counting.

“9….8….7….6….”

“Nathaniel come on, you’re going to miss the fireworks” Miss Vixen pushing the hero on the shoulder shrieking him, then he dropped the pen down on the ground, which rolled to the middle of the platform of the tower.

“No, I’m not finished yet!” Super Nathan exclaimed shocked making Miss Vixen turn sad.

“Three….two….one….Happy New Year!” Shouted the crowd and fireworks were shoot up in the sky cracking up in various colors illuminating Paris.

“Happy New year to you” Wished Miss Vixen disappointed and brought Super Nathan the pen back. “Have I ruined anything on your pad?” Asked Miss Vixen, then looked on the tablet to see in red and orange firefly-like dots spread all over Super Nathan’s screen spelling the sentence Miss Vixen, I love yo.

“It was supposed to be a surprise” Super Nathan said looking at all the fireworks pop and seconds later Super Nathan’s fireworks appeared in the middle of the others writing the sentence from his tablet.

“Aww,” Miss Vixen said followed by a part of the crowd, that observed the fireworks reacting the same to Super Nathan’s piece of art.

“There is supposed to be the U and you know that I know that”

“Of course I know it dork” Miss Vixen said wrapping her arms around him to peck him on the cheeks. “Grazie mille,” The vixen heroine thanked giving the turquoise-eyed hero a kiss on the lips.

“You’re welcome,” The boy said nudging his nose on the fox-themed heroine, making her chuckle, enjoying the fresh start in the new year with her partner

@mlrarepairmonth .

#tomatofox #volpina #evillustrator #chat noir #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #oneshot #rarepair month #miraculous rarepair month #lila rossi #nathaniel kurtzberg

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componentplanet · 4 years

Text

Upscaling Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Using Topaz Video Enhance AI

Last year, we covered one man’s efforts to upscale Star Trek: Deep Space Nine using Topaz Gigapixel AI. If you’ve ever attempted to watch DS9 on Netflix or Amazon, you know what a shame that is. The version of DS9 that you can stream via online services sucks, to put it kindly. The streamed version of the show ranges from slightly worse to much worse than what you’d get from an MKV rip or original DVD. Even if you own the original DVDs, however, DS9’s quality leaves much to be desired.

There are a number of shows that were shot from the early 1990s – early 2000s that didn’t broadcast in HD and were never upconverted to 720p or 1080p. If you love series like Babylon 5, Voyager, or Deep Space Nine, you’ve had few-to-no options for a decent viewing experience… until now. Topaz Labs’ new Video Enhance AI software ($299) uses artificial intelligence to upscale low-resolution video in ways that can dramatically improve on the original image. I’ve spent the last few weeks taking the application for a test drive.

While Gigapixel AI can upscale content, there are actually multiple reasons not to use it for the task. The app will not allow you to load large numbers of images at once and in the past, it’s had a bad habit of crashing every 500 – 600 frames. Considering there are roughly 66,000 frames in an episode, it looked as if improving DS9’s image quality would require an absolutely insane amount of work.

Way of the Warrior upscaling in progress. Click all images to enlarge.

Then, a few weeks ago, Topaz released a new product, Video Enhance AI. Instead of literally unpacking a TV show into each individual frame and then upscaling them one by one, Video Enhance AI is designed to convert entire video files at once. Performance on a GTX 2080 is roughly 95 frames per minute, or approximately one episode every 10.5 hours. While this represents a non-trivial time commitment to rip several seasons, it’s vastly better than Gigapixel AI’s demonstrated performance. Whether GP produces better results or if these results can be further enhanced via application of Topaz AI’s other software suites is something I intend to explore in greater detail in future articles. For now, we’re focusing on Topaz Video Enhance AI, specifically.

How Topaz Video Enhance AI Works

Topaz VE allows you to choose the quality level of your source from three options: High Quality, Low Quality, and HQ-CGI. HQ-CGI boosts anti-aliasing in CGI scenes, and I also ran some specific tests of this setting on the test episode I converted and will be demonstrating today. On a show like Deep Space Nine, you’ll definitely want to use LQ — a 720×480 initial input is basically the poster-child for a low-quality upscale. If you were trying to scale 1080p video up to 4K or 8K, you’d want to use the HQ setting. The application has very few options beyond choosing your file output name, your desired level of upscaling (200 percent and 400 percent were both tested here), and what file format you want to output in. Choose your starting and ending frames, hit the button, and away you go.

Be advised, however, that Topaz Video Enhance AI isn’t capable of passing audio to the newly encoded file in at least some cases. All of our test encodes came out sans audio. We recombined the audio streams into the primary video file using FFMPEG.

How We Tested

I’ve performed all of my testing with MKV files I created from the DS9 boxed set years ago. After seeing how this project came out, I actually intend to dust off my old DVDs (when I can find them) and try this project directly on the DVD source itself. ExtremeTech does not endorse piracy or recommend stealing Deep Space Nine or any other television show. If you’re interested in this kind of upscaling, you should buy the DVDs. It’s entirely possible you should do that anyway, given that the source will almost certainly be a better target for this kind of scaling.

I’ve performed a number of test runs and gathered comparison data from HQ-CGI versus LQ, as well as a wide range of Netflix – MKV – Upscaled comparisons at both the 2x and 4x scaling factors. I’ve also included a range of screenshots to show the benefit of increasing the default brightness a bit even if the DVD source is all you have. And we’ve got some YouTube uploads for you, to show the benefits of the upscaling using the DS9 credits.

Let’s get started. For starters, here’s the Defiant under attack in three frames from “Way of the Warrior.” These three are not frame-matched identically, so focus on the architecture and clarity of the ship, not the disruptor fire striking it. This is Netflix, MKV, and 4x upscale, in that order. All images can be clicked to enlarge in a new window.

Netflix, in all its smeary glory. The phrase “USS Defiant” around the saucer edge looks more like a row of windows.

The MKV rip based on DVD source. The shot is much clearer and “USS Defiant” is legible, but the overall quality still isn’t very good.

Finally, our 4x upscale. The quality level here still isn’t truly HD, but it’s vastly better than anything in the previous frame.

These were some of the first tests I did, and I was quite impressed with the results. Let’s look at a larger cross-section of an episode. Click on each image to enlarge (and you’ll want to, in order to see the degree of improvement).

Call to Arms Comparisons

All of the following screenshots and comparisons are taken from “A Call to Arms”, the 26th episode of the fifth season. I’ve included both 200 percent and 400 percent comparison images in this collection to illustrate the trade-off from each size. The best balance between visual quality and image size that I’ve seen is to upscale either 200 percent from the original DVD or to upscale 400 percent and then watch the stream at half-size.

Obviously most of you are going to be reading this on monitors, not TVs, but I checked the output quality on a standard TV set as well. If you’re sitting at standard viewing distances, all of the versions look better, but the 400 percent upscale benefits the most. I’ll call out which comparisons are 2x scaling and which are 4x scaling comparisons. All Netflix comparisons are 4x, because Netflix doesn’t allow for resolution-based resizing.

I’m going to cover image comparisons first, before I hit the video comparisons.

MKV versus 2x/4x Upscaling

Weyoun docked at Deep Space Nine. MKV.

Weyoun docked at Deep Space Nine. 4x Upscale.

The amount of detail recovered from this scene compared with the MKV is impressive. There’s a smeary sort of vaseline look to the MKV file that isn’t present in the upscaled version.

At just 2x zoom, the original MKV doesn’t look so bad…

But the improvement in the upscale is still very impressive.

Video Enhance does strong work with the starship battles in Deep Space Nine. The front of the Jem’Hadar battleship looks downright sharp. Compares 4x upscaling displayed at 1:2 ratio to standard MKV displayed at 2x size.

Netflix versus MKV versus 4x Upscaling

This screenshot of Deep Space Nine under heavy fire is a poster child for why the Netflix version of the TV show deserves to be drug out into the street and shot. The entire frame is noticeably orange-r (and these frames are matched — you can tell by the exact position of the pieces of debris in the lower-right-corner, inside the fireball).

The MKV original dumps the reddish lighting and looks a bit less blurred, even though it has the same base resolution. Color balance is better.

Our 4x upscale. The station and explosions both benefit enormously.

Next up: A comparison of the same Jem’Hadar battlecruiser that serves as a poster child for why the Netflix version of the TV show… wait. I already said that, didn’t I?

Well, it’s still deserved. Here’s Netflix.

Check the aliasing on the left wing of the battlecruiser. It looks like it was rendered in Quake II, which is impressive, considering DS9 is still using models at this point in time.

Here’s the DVD. Much better as far as the left-hand wing, and better overall preservation of detail, but still not great compared with what we’d want in a modern show.

Much, much better. Quite good, in fact. Alright. We’ve done two battle scenes — let’s take a look at how some of the character shots come out.

Weyoun’s unctuous used-car salesman vibe made him a great character foil for Gul Dukat. Netflix is still the blurriest option of the lot, but the gap between it and the MKV file is much smaller than normal.

Here’s the MKV file. Not much difference, though it’s minimally clearer and doesn’t have the weird color issue Netflix does.

Again, the upscale does a good job of drawing out subtle detail in Weyoun’s eyes and face. His jacket texturing is also much less blurry.

Improve Image Quality by Bumping Brightness

The color reproduction in the Netflix version of DS9 is terrible and the MKV just isn’t much better, but a small tap to brightness can improve the situation, in my opinion — and this option doesn’t require any upscaling or processing time. Here’s the Netflix version, followed by an MKV screenshot.

Netflix. Slightly brighter, but less detail.

MKV file. Dim and rather poor-looking, but slightly more detail.

Nudge brightness up a bit in-player, and you get this:

Rome — Actually Visible Edition. (season to taste)

Whether or not you consider this an improvement is in the eye of the beholder, but many DS9 episodes are much darker than I remember them being when I watched them the first time, and this tweak doesn’t require anything but a software player like VLC that supports it. Finally, here’s the same image upscaled 400 percent in Topaz VE.

Check his jacket texture compared with the image above.

I’ve also tossed a number of images into the slideshow below, with both space battles and additional characters. Check them out if you’re curious. The slideshow does a nice job of showing subtle improvements when it shifts from one image to the next.

Opening Credits

If you’d like to see what the opening credits to the show look like when rendered in 200 percent and 400 percent upscaling compared with the standard version, I’ve embedded YouTube links to all three below. Note that while the first link isn’t mine and does look slightly worse than what you’d see on Netflix, it’s honestly pretty close. Make sure to set the second and third links to 720p and 1080p, respectively. Both of these encodes were done using the HQ-CGI mode.

youtube

The standard introduction. Full-screen for best comparison — and this is only very slightly worse than what is available on Netflix.

youtube

200 percent AI upscaling using the HQ-CGI preset instead of LQ. HQ-CGI yields better results on some special effects, though I’m still working out what the subtleties are. The 200 percent upscale is subtly different than the 400 percent. Set to 720p for best comparison.

youtube

The 400 percent upscale. Set to 2160p for best comparison.

Discussion and Analysis

If I’m being honest, the existing encode quality I’m seeing is about 85 percent of where I’d like it to be. I’ve already found myself wondering if some of Topaz AI’s other tools might be deployed to perform some additional post-processing where it’s needed. The application struggles with graphics displayed on terminals or PADs, and I’m still testing to see if that can be resolved within Topaz Video Enhance AI or not.

The MKV version. Obviously not everything from the mid-1990s has aged well.

This is one place where the upscaling effect *doesn’t* improve image quality.

I’m not going to claim that upscaling like this simply makes Deep Space Nine look like it was shot in modern times. The color reproduction is bad in all cases and no matter how good an upscaling algorithm is, it’s still an upscaler — and therefore not the same as having the original data via 35mm film. These are all fair complaints. There are still some places where I’m hoping to clear up these files further. But the output I’ve gotten is leaps and bounds ahead of the MKV versions I’ve got, and vastly better than the Netflix streams. I’m already planning to encode most of the show — I just want to see how much additional improvement I can squeeze out first.

On a big-screen TV, Deep Space Nine is barely watchable via Netflix or Amazon. The old MKV rips I did years ago aren’t much better, which is one reason I’m going to return to original source for my next round of tests. But while I may not have a perfect solution to present day, Topaz Video Enhance AI has taken the idea from “Maybe someday,” to “Holy crap, this works now.”

Low quality source for DS9 is typically better than HQ source as far as I’ve seen, but I’m still checking if HQ-CGI can be spliced into an MP4 that uses LQ for everything else. I may also check Gigapixel again, just to see how the AI upscaling method compares, or if other Topaz Labs products can improve the final output further.

Performance-wise, both AMD and Intel systems perform identically when you test using a GPU — the RTX 2080

averaged between 95 – 105fpm (frames per minute). CPU encoding is 10x slower than GPU encoding, so I’ve only begun testing that mode. GPU encoding has a reputation for not being quite as good as CPU encode in applications like Handbrake, but I haven’t yet seen evidence it’s true in Topaz Video Enhance AI. Even if CPUs do give better results, 9-10 frames per minute would mean 110 hours per episode. Even if the quality jump was dramatic, I’d only use the CPU for trouble spots — the encode time is just too long otherwise.

These software packages and techniques have significant applicability to shows beyond Star Trek. Series like Buffy the Vampire Slayer were converted for HD, but fans hated the way color balance and the 16:9 conversion were both handled. Babylon 5 can’t be remastered due to massive rights entanglements and the destruction of its original assets, which means an upscale project like this would be its best bet.

I intend to write more on this topic in the future, but I hope you’ve enjoyed the preview. Topaz Video Enhance AI and other Topaz products are available for 30-day free trials, which is how I tested the application. You can also purchase it at the current introductory price of $199, down from $299 standard. If you’re a serious cinephile who enjoys this kind of editing, it’s worth it.

Now Read:

Fan Works to Remaster Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in 1080p HD, Using AI First Trailer Arrives for Upcoming Star Trek: Picard on CBS Astronomers Find Exoplanet In the Same Place as Star Trek’s Vulcan

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/306701-upscaling-star-trek-deep-space-nine-using-topaz-video-enhance-ai-review from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2020/02/upscaling-star-trek-deep-space-nine.html

#Upscaling Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Using Topaz Video Enhance AI

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lyrring · 4 years

Text

2019

content warning: suicidal ideation I wasn't originally going to write a reflective entry about 2019, but then I figured I might as well, if only so that I can look back on it in one year's time.

The first 9 months of the year I spent at home instead of at school. While I had a lot more time to do art and also work a long-term job, it wasn't great for my mental health. I can really only stand my family in small doses.

Artistically, 2019 was a year of (what I would call) exponential improvement for me. Technically and otherwise. I did get better at drawing, yeah, but I also learned a lot about what I like to draw, how to improve, and what an artistic industry looks like and prefers.

Starting at the end of 2018 and well into the middle of 2019, I thought it would be a good idea to contribute to a ton of zines. I'm talking literally a few dozens at this point. This was an interesting learning experience for me, because while most of my pieces were decent, and a few are some of my personal favorites now, a good portion of them are not pieces I'm proud of and have not really posted anywhere else lol. This period was a great lesson in time management and learning when to take on commitments, vs when to pass. I still do zines on occasion, but only after triple-checking with myself that I absolutely want to do them, and will have time to do them. I'm still learning how to do this correctly!

I also worked my first "real" job in the art industry-- in games! I worked for a small, relatively new studio on the demo of their first in-house project. The experience was great, and it taught me what I do and do not appreciate in a workplace. Now, I value direct communication more than ever. I'm really glad I got the opportunity to learn more about the industry firsthand. Having people tell me what to draw all the time also made me value personal art more, so that's something I also plan on doing more of in the future!

I learned that I still have a lot (like, a lot) of insecurities surrounding my art, which I'm still trying to conquer. I'm trying to open up to the idea of sharing my art with IRLs more, when the idea used to terrify me. It still makes me nervous sometimes, for lots of reasons I don't feel like elaborating on here, but I'm workin on it! These internal issues with my art were part of a larger ongoing mental health crisis for me. I was constantly bombarded with thoughts like-- Your friends don't actually like your art, they're just pretending; Your bf thinks your art is weird; No one in your life values you and you will eventually be replaced by everyone you care about; You're stupid and your friends hate you and make fun of you when you're not around; You'll never amount to anything, at best you'll just be a financial burden on your family; Everyone who claims they like your art just does so out of pity.

One of my New Year's Resolutions is to stop caring so much about follower counts and engagement. Though they are nice, they are no indicator of skill or passion for art. And before writing that sentence, I thought-- damn, I have so few followers in the grand scheme of things, it sounds like I'm saying that just because I'm small and unpopular, to make myself feel better. But on the other hand, I thought, if a really big artist were to say something similar, that followers do not exactly correlate with skill or passion, the response would just be "ur just saying that cause you have tens of thousands of followers lol". It is nice when people engage with my art-- I really appreciate it! But I truly strive to get back to the kind of mental space I was at when I started drawing seriously, at age 11 or so. That is, making art simply because it made me happy, not because I wanted to go with the current 24-hour tags or trends, or because I thought it would gain me followers. Some artists often say that drawing what you love will eventually find you the right audience. Even if it's not a huge audience, I think that's alright. I would rather have a smaller amount of people following me who are affected and inspired by my work than a larger one that does not.

Thus far, that attitude has been working! It's helped me care less about churning out relevant trendy art, and more about taking my time and creating pieces that I personally love to look at. Expect a lot more oc stuff from me in the future lol!

As far as my current mental health, I've returned to school (senior year baby!!) and I'm doing a lot better than I was earlier in 2019. I haven't seriously considered killing myself in a good few months, where before the urges would usually strike every week-and-a-half or so, and last for days on end.

I also found that RP stuff was also a major factor in my mental health, in 2019 and even before. I love rping and I love my OCs! But there are certain things about rping-- both in groups and with individuals 1-on-1-- that can be very draining. I suffer from rejection sensitive dysphoria, as a symptom of my ADHD. Essentially, I perceive very minor or non-issues to be a demonstration of how much my friends hate me and hate talking to me, and I experience very extreme and visceral reactions to that "rejection". So, in addition to IRL relationships, online and rp relationships can cause me great distress very easily, and trigger anxiety or depressive episodes. For the sake of my mental health and happiness, my second big New Year's Resolution is not necessarily to care less about my rp friends, but more to focus on myself, and what I can create and enjoy on my own.

To that end-- I want to try and at least finish crafting the plots of my comic(s) in 2020. I have a few planned, but obviously comic-making is a very time-consuming process, and I want to be fully prepared before I jump in. So, I probably won't even get to publishing any in 2020. If I do, I'll be surprised. But! Like I said before, expect much more OC art out of me in the coming year. I feel inspired by my OCs all the time, and I hope you enjoy seeing them lol!

2020 will be a year of transitions for me. I will be graduating college in June, and I will be attending graduate school the following fall, starting my master's degree in the field of counselling, or marriage and family therapy. I am also applying to art school, which I plan to complete online. Hopefully that all works out! : D

I also kind of want to start writing more personal posts here on tumblr and DA as well. I want you guys to get to know me better! That's always one of my favorite parts about following artists-- getting to know their personality, etc.

Anyways, if you've read this whole thing, cool! I hope you know at least a little more about me as a person.

I hope you have a 2020 full of discoveries, excitement, and comfort. At the very least, I hope you pledge to truly strive to take care of yourself in 2020, even more than in 2019. I will do the same.

Warmly,

lurr / niisanberg

#personal #text #year in review

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