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Focus!

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1

Focus!
07/12/2022


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body {
  overflow: hidden;
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.lens span:nth-child(5) div {
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.lens span:nth-child(6) div {
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.lens span:nth-child(7) div {
  position: absolute;
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.lens span:nth-child(8) div {
  position: absolute;
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  -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg);
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  position: absolute;
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.lens span:nth-child(12) div {
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}
.lens span:nth-child(13) div {
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}
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</style>

<div class="bg">
  <div></div>
</div>
<div class="lens" style="border: 2px #ccc solid">
</div>

<script>
$(document).ready(function() {
  var $lens = $('.lens'),
  lensWHalf = $lens.width() / 2;
  $(document).on('mousemove', function(e) {
    $lens.css({
      //Subtract half width of the container, so cursor would be right in the center
      "left": e.pageX - lensWHalf,
      "top": e.pageY - lensWHalf
    });
  })
})</script>
[/html]


Alexandra Brown \\ Juan Rivera

Отредактировано Juan Rivera (2023-01-15 02:28:19)

+3

2

“Hey, Rivera! It’s me, Sandie, are you in there?”
Sandie knocked on the door and called out cheerfully. To cross the continent and meet former brother-in-arms – Sandie still thought it was a hilarious coincidence. Three of them simply being alive was a coincidence enough, but they even managed to find one another? Hilarious. She and the colonel kept in touch for years, but neither of them had ever heard even a word from or about Juan Rivera. Sandie vaguely remembered dragging him out of battle unconscious, remembered well enough patching up his leg before handing him over to the actual doctors, which she wasn’t at the time, but exact details of his charming personality escaped her, so Sandie had no idea why Arth didn’t seem as happy as she was. She could make a guess, though. Seeing someone he had known in previous life was probably reminding him of all the people he had known and he had lost, including those they had lost on their journey across the America. For Sandie, at least, it was so.
“I’ve been going through the equipment at the infirmary, and, well, do you maybe know any unlooted eye clinic or optometrist’s office around here? I’ve made a list of things we need.” She waved a sheet of paper in the air. Sandie didn’t hesitate to say “we”, even though she had been at “Georgia” only for a week. She was used to changing places, being deployed here and there, and had always adjusted quickly, and after the last year, she simply enjoyed being around people again. She and Arth were quick to sign up for their duties right after they had arrived, and being part of a community felt good as well, even if it meant not seeing Arth every waking moment (though from what expertise Sandie had about collective psychology, they actually needed to spend at least some time apart.)
“I guess I’m more of emergency doc than ophthalmologist by now, but it’d suck if someone needs glasses and we can’t make them, wouldn’t it?”

Отредактировано Alexandra Brown (2023-01-15 21:47:36)

+4

3

"Uh-huh," was the only thing Sandy heard in return. "And if you don't give them a frame of their favorite color, they will give your infirmary a bad review."
Juan did not even turn away from his desk, did not put away a micro scheme he was patiently examining, did not try to smile. He just followed the woman from the corner of his eye, then returned back to work.
"For your information, we still don't have a reliable source of fresh water, so all your patients will die of dysentery long before they fall off the window while trying to spy on the neighbors. Ah!"
The last exclamation was meant not for Sandy, but for the scheme in his hand, whom he finally could see for what she was - a devious little beast with all the beauty of a freshly made, top-of-the-shelf single-processor chip, but with one fried resister.
"That would be you," he mumbled almost lovingly to the small protuberance on the plate with a barely visible dark spot at the bottom. He did not have his soldering iron ready, so he just marked the failed element with a pencil and put the chip aside. Finally, he made a half-turn on his chair to look at Sandy. He stared at her for a second.
The woman had seen no less shit than everyone else in this camp, probably even more: she had been a military paramedic once. In the war zone.  Yet, somehow she managed to keep this cheerful smile on her face, had been able to easily fit right in, found her place, and now even cared about people's eyesight.
What a joke!
Then his own eyes suddenly fell on the wall next to Sandy where he pinned notes and reminders to himself. Right in the middle of the wall, in obnoxiously big letters, had been written: "Dec 7, 12 pm. Administrative meeting." Juan looked at the clock: it was half past eleven.
Well, shit.
"You know what," Juan suggested after a moment's silence, "there is a big ophthalmology lab north of here. Wanted to raid it for a while to see if there were any lenses I could use for binoculars. All the hunting shops been raided. If you want to stretch your legs, I'll be ready in ten. Will meet you at the gate."

Отредактировано Juan Rivera (2023-01-17 06:51:41)

+2

4

Sandie gave Juan an encouraging smile, as if he had made a witty joke. When you exist in the living apocalypse, it’s the effort at humor that counts, even if the result is kinda gloomy, almost mocking. 
“Well, at least they’ll be able to see where they shit.” Sandie shrugged, unfazed by the cold irony. She wouldn't be herself if something like this killed her mood. So far the Georgia had managed to find fresh water without her more or less successfully, but they had no ophthalmologist before she joined. To Sandie, no work was futile. She could have made a lot of arguments: fresh water is important, but one must see further than their nose to find it. Moreover, people who can’t navigate their surroundings will be a burden on the settlement. Moreover, glass is fragile and easy to break, and it will be years until such complicated things like lenses will be produced again. (And, if you think of it, it might be just an optimistic way to say “never”.) So it makes sense to stock up while they can.
Sandie could have said this and more, but she saw that Juan was too busy with his own work to pay attention. Sandie could respect that. She looked around the room curiously instead, humming a tune. She stopped when Juan started talking to her again. After all, he seemingly came to the same conclusion as she all by himself.
“Okay. See ya!” Sandie ruffled Juan's hair and stormed off before he could change his mind.
She was the first to arrive at the gates: she did not need long time to grab her backpack and, of course, the rifle. Sandie might have a kind heart and prefer helping people to hurting them, but still she came from the US army, which had years ago figured out that a heavy gun is better at keeping their medics safe than bright red cross sewed on their uniforms.
“Ready?” Judging by her tone and smile, one might have thought Sandie was a tourist going camping, not a survivor going out into the hostile, half-wild city to raid an abandoned laboratory.

+2

5

Juan's camping kit usually included a can of water, a paper map, a roll of bandage, a lighter, a rope, a flashlight, spare batteries, a couple of knives, some handy tools like screwdriver, a small axe, a crowbar and a set of lock-picks. He did not bother with things like food or pills because either he would be able to find or catch something along the way, or he would end up in such a condition that no pills would save him. Either way, there was no point in wasting the settlement's supplies.
With his backpack jingling grimly with loose metal, a semi-automatic rifle over his shoulder and a gun on the hip, he caught up with Sandy near the gates and simply nodded. Then he nodded the same way at the guards at the gate, and they opened the way. No one ever asked Juan where he was going or when he was planning to return - partly, because the whole settlement knew they depended on him, partly, because he was just such a joy to talk with that only a couple of people dared to ask him questions. Now, it seemed, there was one more of them.
They walked to the wide street, the small forest of typical North-American skyscrapers in front of them, and Juan took out his map.
"We need to get there," he pointed to an intersection to the north-east of the port. "We can go up the street, then turn east, but hunters have spotted wild animals near the river," he pointed briefly at the blue line crossing the street. "Better go east first. There is a lot of rubble, and the overpass has collapsed two blocks from here, but we can walk around."
No matter which route they took, however, the landscape all around looked pretty much the same: ruins, rust, debris and desolation.

+2


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