@kondraki isn’t the only camera nerd here so I decided to show you the 4 favorites of my collection again since it’s been a while, from oldest to newest
Brownie n°2, built in until 1933 and usually the usual one used by new field agents back then. Film for this model can still be found and it can take rather good photos even!
Anastigmat spector, french built camera from 1934 and a fancy folding camera. The shutter makes a really sweet sound and it folds up nicelly but sadly it’s nearly impossible to find film for those.
Zenit E, came out in 1967 but this one is from 1975. Works great to take good quality photos and is very reliable, it uses 35mm film so it can still be used. The lenses use a M42 mount and I actually use them on my current DSLR (you can see the 50mm one on the left has the adapter ring attached.
Polaroid 1000S, this one is a classic. A bit better than the other ones in the sense that you don’t have to wait to get the photos but the quality is not as good. Commonly used by field agents to take souvenir photos. Film for those can be found but it’s a bit expensive, 20€ for 8 photos but I say it’s worth it.
Leslie Knope sits professionally in front of the camera—hands folded neatly on her desk, red pen twirling between her fingers—when the camera starts rolling. “I ate a brownie once at a party in college,” she informs the camera man, grinning brightly, “it was kind of an indescribable feeling, really—it felt like I was floating.” She pauses, leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful sigh. “It turns out there wasn’t any marijuana it it—it was just a really good brownie.”
Prince switches off the television with a soft chuckle, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face Morality — who’s staring at the now blank screen with a confused expression troubling his features. “What’s bothering you, dearest?” Prince asks in a tone of mild concern, squeezing the shoulder closest to him inquisitively.
James was standing in the kitchen when Lily walked through the door after work that evening, a container of yoghurt in his hand and a spoon hanging out of his mouth while he clicked around on his mobile.
He dropped the spoon back into the container, grinned at her as she walked through the door, ‘Hey, love.’
She smiled, 'Hey,’ and stood on her toes to kiss him.
'How was your day,’ she hung her bag up on the hook by the door, pulled out her laptop, and tucked it under her arm while she grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.
'It was great,’ James said, and he turned his mobile around and showed her his screen. 'We uploaded this an hour ago and we’ve already got 65,000 views. Twitter is going mad.’
'Fucking hell, that’s brilliant,’ she leaned over and kissed him again, before taking a long drag of her water, 'Is the filming room a complete wreck again, or?’
James scoffed, 'Pardon me, we always clean up after ourselves.’ Lily smirked, raised an eyebrow, and James smiled at her, did his best to look charming. She rolled her eyes, smacked his shoulder, and he laughed, 'How was your day, Evans?’
I adjust the camera, so it captures a better
angle of the person in front of it. I look up as the next person auditioning
steps into the room. He gives me a courtesy smile and then turns to the
director, producer and writer all sitting in a row, in front of him. I hurry to
the side of the room after pressing record on the camera, and hold the script
in my hands. He introduces himself and starts to act, with me playing the role
I’ll admit, he is a good actor but nothing we
haven’t seen all day. As he gets to the climax of the story, he actually kneels
down in frustration and bangs his forehead against the chair. I mean, like
really hard. There’s literally a trail of blood on the chair and a line on the
side of his head. I hurriedly put down the script as everyone asks worriedly,
if he’s okay. I grab some tissues for him and he nods his thanks.
The director and writer both express their awe
of his acting skill and praises him for ‘staying in character’. The producer,
looks down at her notes, then back up at the man, voicing out some concerns in
his acting. He smiles politely and accepts her criticism but as he leaves the
room, I see a flash of triumph in his eyes.
I raise my eyebrows and inwardly, give a sigh.
Not those kind of people again. Those actors, who think that they are
passionate about acting; they act well but overboard. I mean, theatre and drama
are all about well,drama. But it’s also about what the suitable emotion is in
that particular scene. Anyway. Who am I to talk, I don’t know anything,I’m just
here part time.
“Is that all for today?” The director
glances over his glasses. He flips through the forms on his clipboard.
“Great! Let’s get some food!” The
writer plonks on the cap of her pen and stretches her fingers.
“I believe there’s another actor outside.
He’s the last one for today.” The producer looks up from her phone and
motions for me to call him in. I hear the director mumbling his annoyance and
sighs,“Let’s just get this over with.”
I head outside the small room and see a familiar
young man, dressed in a yellow sweater and jeans. He is tall, I notice as he
stands. I take a glance at his face and my heart skips a beat. He’s from my
Literature class! He sees my face but if he recognizes me, he doesn’t show it.
I’ve seen him on campus but we’ve never really talked before. I wonder why he’s
here. I mean, other than to audition, since I’ve never seen him act. I didn’t
even know he could act.
I tell him
that he can go inside and he smiles nervously at me, before nodding to himself.
I walk inside and get the camera ready for another take as he enters the room.
The director, producer and writer stops talking and looks at him expectantly. I
press record and he starts to introduce himself as Ong Seong Woo,when the
director cuts him off sharply, saying that he has all his profile here, just
show them what he has.
I stifle a surge of irritation and look
determinedly at my script. This is what always happens to the last person
auditioning. I’ve gone to auditions, I know what it’s like to stand in front of
the people who could make or break you. It’s intimidating enough without having
them cut off your sentence and staring at you menacingly. I shoot a look of
empathy at Seong Woo who looks awkward standing there, unsure of what to do
next. The producer nods at him to continue.
“I’ll be playing the opposite role, so just
start whenever you’re ready.” He nods at me, smiling nervously again. He
lets out a deep breath and starts to act. I start to respond when the director,
again, rudely cuts across him.
“Do you know method acting?” He asks,
crossing arms on the table and squinting his eyes. Seong Woo nods nervously. He
asks to go again.
This time, he starts to act, clearly more
expressive than the first time. But this time, the writer stops him, saying
that he doesn’t understand the emotion of the role here. Seong Woo looks like a
deer caught in headlights and nods, swallowing. He requests to go one more
time. The director nods impatiently,“Hurry up.”
“Do you think this is ok-” He starts,
but again gets interrupted. The director starts complaining in frustration
while Seong Woo just stands there, embarrassed. With a trembling voice, he asks
to act for one last time.
He sighs and closes his eyes. Then he starts to
slap himself across the face, repeatedly and I look at him worriedly. He
repeats the line over and over again. The director finally seems to acknowledge
he is in the room. The producer leans back in her seat and observes this young
man in front of her.
“Food is here—” The door opens and a
delivery guy walks in, unaware of the situation. Seong Woo stops in the middle
of the line. I hurriedly pay for the food from the lunch allowance they give me
for well, lunch and then apologise since it was my job to order the food and
make sure it was delivered to reception. The director and writer, do not give a
damn apparently, since they start laying out the food without commenting on
Seong Woo’s fourth attempt.
I steal a glance at Seong Woo, feeling bad for
him. No one should be treated like that. The producer seems displeased by all
these rude interruptions and frowns. She turns to the director and writer with
a stony stare and asks if they think it is professional to eat while they are
still auditioning. The director starts to reply while stuffing his mouth with a
Then, the unthinkable happens : Seong Woo walks
up to the director and slaps his across the face, the dumpling falling out. I
widen my eyes and stare at the scene unfolding in front of me. This cannot be
real. As soon the realisation hits, his face is full of regret. The director
reacts quickly and slaps his back across the face. He bows his head while
listening to the director yell at him. The writer scoffs that young people
these days don’t know how to control their temper.
“I think it’s best that we leave this for
today.” The producer speaks up. “We will contact you via text message
if you have gotten a role. Also, I would like a word with you after.”
Seong Woo, now speechless, nods numbly and bows deeply before leaving the room.
I stop the recording and pretend I’m not eavesdropping on their conversation,
which is really hard since the director is talking at full volume. I’m pretty
sure Seong Woo can hear him outside too.
“What kind of bastard does he think he
is?” The director fumes, slamming his glasses down.
“I told you, the last ones are always hot
tempered, just because they think they’re all that.” The writer says. I
roll my eyes at that. What kind of stupid logic is that?
“It would, of course, help if everyone was
paying attention to his acting.” The producer clears her throats and says
evenly. “What he did did not help his case but I’m certain, it was because
he felt that he was perhaps,ignored for Chinese food.” The producer raises
“Everyone should be treated the same,
especially at auditions not because they are your nephews or some other special
connection.” The director reddens and fumes up.
“I wouldn’t like to think your niece-”
He pauses meaningfully to look at me. I stare back at him. “Came to this
part time job with your help.”
“As a matter of fact,no.” The producer
answers readily. “She came into the company completely on her own records
and I only found out, as you very well know, yesterday. If you’d like to voice
your opinion on that subject, why don’t we discuss the new IT guy?”
The director is completely speechless and I hide
a smug smile. Hah. Gotcha. He clears his throats uneasily and laughs. “Why
don’t we take an early night today?”
“Okay, so just look at me and try not to
look into the camera since it’s an interview. ” I say, flipping through my
notepad and glancing up at Seong Woo. He nods, smiling at me. I press the
record button and start to ask questions about him. Why he started doing this.
Has he always been interested in acting.
He starts answering me, occasionally stopping to
think. I notice how he purses his lips when he concentrates and when he’s
unsure about how to answer.
“What makes you so sure you fit this
role?” I ask,zooming in on his face slightly.
He gives a small laugh. It sounds sad.
“Well, I hope I can fit this role, because I think I have a few
similarities with the main character, we’re both people who have lost
something, betrayed by someone and I think I can connect to that emotion.”
The last question :“What makes you a better
actor?” He pauses, his easy demeanour seems to vanish.
“I’m not a very good actor, as you would’ve
seen in the audition, just now. Sometimes, I wish, I just wish that…I could
be as into something as someone else. Everywhere I look, there are better
actors than me, people who love acting way more than me and…sometimes,it’s
easy to get discouraged but I guess,I just have to try harder.” To my
astonishment, his eyes are red and tears are rolling down his cheek. I stop
recording and hand him tissues.
“I’m sorry.” I say quietly. He looks
I open my mouth but no words come out. How do I
tell him what I’m sorry for? That he seems like a decent person and I’m sorry
he had to go through this shit audition? Why am I even feeling bad for him?
I’ve never felt bad for others who came to audition before and were treated
worse than this.
“Nothing. Nevermind.” I shake my head.
He smiles, confused but nods anyway.
We both stand and I thank him for his time and
he says no problem.
“Um,” Seong Woo pauses. He looks
around. “Well, thanks I’ll be off now.” I nod at him while folding
the camera stand. I hear him walk away but a minute later, he turns back and
taps me on my shoulder.
“I’ve seen you on campus, right?” He asks.
“Oh, uh, yeah. We have literature together.” Wow,
so he knows.
“Oh, okay, ‘cause I thought I’d seen you
somewhere before.” He chuckles softly. “Well, thanks for everything today.” He
grins and my heart skips a beat again. I stare at his retreating back and shake
I’ve been working too hard.
“What are you gonna get?” My closest friend, Eun
Ho nudges me while eyeing up the menu. “The ribs look soo good. But I’m really
craving for spicy food.” I smile at her indecisiveness. I point to the menu
board and tell her to just choose one.
“It’s not like your life depends on it, okay?” I
laugh. She rolls her eyes and flicks her hair back. We get our food and find a
seat by the window. She starts telling me about her class this morning and I’m
in the middle of laughing at her imitation of a professor. A tap on my shoulder
nearly makes me choke on my food. I cough violently and take a big gulp of water.
I turn and find myself face to face with the offender: Ong Seong Woo.
“Hi, um, sorry about that” He smiles awkwardly.
“Hey.” I flush and swallow.
“I just wanted to tell you-“ He holds up his
phone, his voice unable to mask his excitement. “I got the part!”
“Wow-”I smile, genuinely happy for him. “That’s
There’s an awkward pause between us when no one
“Well, I should let you get back to your lunch!”
He says, gesturing to my food. He glances back at me and walks out of the cafeteria
hurriedly. I turn back in my seat and see Eun Ho looking at me with eyes as
wide as saucers. I avoid her look and focus on eating.
“Um, how about who, what and how-?” She asks, her
chopsticks set down. I shrug and tell her everything that happened during work.
“ARE YOU SERIO-“I kick her in the shins. “-uss?”
I nod in answer to her question.
“Was he any good at it?”
“He got the part, I would think he did okay.” I
“But he slamnmff-“ I reach across the table and
cover her mouth.
“Shut up.” I raise my eyebrows. She takes the
“Alright, alright.” She backs off contritely. “Bet
you thought he was cute.” I roll my eyes and shove a spoonful of food into my
mouth, to show that I disagree with her.
I flashback to when he smiled and my heart skips
yet another beat. I really should exercise more often.
The funny thing is, after that day, I keep
running into him on campus grounds. I see him in class, in the library and in
the cafeteria. We make some small talk but the weird thing was, I keep feeling
nervous when I talk to him. I involuntarily break into a smile at the thought
of him. I flush easily when he says something to make me laugh.
But I like it, this kind of feeling. Although I’m
not quite sure what this emotion is.
around and see Seong Woo running up to me.
“Are you free right now?” He asks, slightly out
“Yeah, why?” I ask.
He holds up his script and sort of waves it in
the air. “Would you mind helping me with my lines?” He grins.
Aw, his smile is so cute.
“Sure, where should we rehearse?” I ask, any
thought of an afternoon nap long gone. We head to the Garden, where there’s a
lovely small rose cove sort of section. There are a few empty benches and a few
students are walking along the garden path, which is artistically paved like it
was made for a Shakespeare movie. We find a bench that’s a bit more tucked away
from other people and sit down.
“You’re getting really good at this!” I say,
after we’ve finished going over the lines. He smiles, scratching the back of
“I hope so. I don’t think the director has warmed
up to me just yet.” At the mention of the director, I burst into laughter.
“I still can’t believe you did that.” I take a
sip of water and shake my head, smiling.
“You know, there are many things that I would do.
You just don’t know it yet.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically. I scoff and
“It’s such a pity you want to be an actor; you’re
much more suited to be a comedian.” I joke. He tilts his head and considers
“I do like making people laugh but it’s the
actors who earn the big bucks.” He makes a money gesture at the end.
“You are such a surprise, you know?” I look at
him. “Totally not the guy who I thought you were.”
“Have you been thinking about me?” He asks
suddenly, leaning close to me. My face heats up and I start stuttering.
“Ju-Just you know, not what I expected.” I
swallow. “Oh, look, a bird.” I add lamely, trying to change the subject. He
calls my name softly and I turn, my face coming close to his. He slowly reaches
up and removes a leaf from my hair. He smiles and my stomach does a nervous
“I’ve been meaning to ask, would you like to go
on a date with me this Friday?”
“’ea,” My voice comes out like a squeak. “I mean,
Alright, alright, I’ll admit : I was smitten from
the moment I first saw him.
[Author’s Note: This is something I’ve written in
two days. It’s not much. But my writer’s block, schoolwork and other stuff have
been preventing me from writing anything for the last year and a half. I hope
you guys can give me some feedback since this is the first time in almost two
years since I’ve written anything like this, so I am SUPER rusty and would love
to know how to improve. This story is based on Seong Woo’s vlive short film and
I recently just got into Wanna One and well, I thought this might be fun. I
hope you guys like it and send me some feedback y’all!]
Skorpan, waiting for the train. Shot with a Zeiss Ikon Nettar 516/17 on Kodak Tri-X @ 200, developed in R09 Oneshot 1:50, 8:30 minutes 20c, 30 sec between agitations. Got some serious light leak issues on this roll, this picture excluded. Strange.
Another one for Mass Effect Relationships Week (#merweek), from this list of prompts by @vorchagirl.
Day 2: Pictures of You
MShep/Garrus, 494 words. Not smut. Briefly smut-adjacent.
Detainees are allowed pictures on their walls or framed on the little bolted-down desk, although the criteria for what’s permissible are exhaustive and exhausting. No violence, no politics, no pornography. Everything has to be vetted and approved by the detention wing’s admin team.
Byron Shepard has a motley collection of pictures arranged along the back of the desk. One is of two middle-aged women in Alliance blues, his mother and stepmother. (Captain Hannah Shepard has the same short-cropped dishwater-blonde hair as her son, and looks like she would rather be anywhere other than in front of the camera. Her wife, who is much tidier, looks at her with an expression of affectionate exasperation.) One is of the SSV Normandy. One is of a much-refurbished Bay-class troop transport and hab-ship called the SSV Narragansett. One, mysteriously, is of a hamster peering out through the blown-out visor of what looks suspiciously like an N7 battle helmet. One is of the Citadel. One is of a turian.
“Who’s that?” James Vega asks one day, after escorting Shepard back from the base’s gym. The war hero turned war criminal doesn’t get to go anywhere without a guard.
Shepard glances in the direction of Vega’s gesture, and stops. “That’s Garrus.” A rare hesitation, which gets Vega’s attention: the man is normally diplomatic-incident blunt as a matter of course. “He’ll be back on Palaven by now.”
Vega gets the feeling there’s about a novel’s worth of things not said in those two sentences.
“Long way,” he says, awkwardly. “That’s rough.”
“Yeah,” Shepard says, and turns towards the window. Vega takes his cue, and leaves.
With the lieutenant gone, Shepard picks up the photo and looks at it again. It’s a full-length shot of Garrus in civvies, arms folded, looking at the camera with an expression of mild but affectionate scepticism; the human equivalent would have been a raised eyebrow.
Garrus Vakarian, seven feet tall and handsome as all hell, who carries himself with the insouciance of a man in full battle armour even when he takes it off, which he more or less only does for Shepard. The civilian clothes show off his broad shoulders, slender waist, and the square, bulky hips that fit very nicely into Shepard’s hands. He’s bare-handed, showing his claws - which is a provocation all by itself, because Shepard has altogether too many associations with Garrus’ hands to look at them neutrally - and half-smiling, teeth visible in the crack of his jaw. He is a study in angular, predatory poise, and remains the best-looking man Shepard’s ever seen.
The picture captures one moment in time, and entirely fails to include the turian’s drawl of Finished? after the photo was taken, or the fact that two seconds later Shepard was flat on his back on the bed with both wrists pinned over his head.
Shepard puts down the picture, and reflects that they’d never have let him have it if they’d known what it was actually of.