Who knows maybe there’s a part of the population who knows Utah solely for rocks and salt lake as a biggish city
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the bad batch season finale has entirely DEVOURED my sense of humour. Like just gobbled it up and shit it out. I couldn’t think of a witty/snarky caption right now if someone had a blaster to my head 🙃
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Idk what it is with this week but it’s just been draining. Big shout out to us all for pushing through it, I know we’re tired but we’re closer to the weekend. You’re all really amazing and lovely, and even if we haven’t interacted yet I see your threads and your posts with everyone and I love reading and following along.
Be kind to yourself, don’t force yourself to do things if you don’t feel up to it. Do stuff that makes you laugh or smile, anything that brings you peace. Self care and relaxation. Take those breaks. ♥️
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I feel like a therapist would hmmmmm @ me for believing that I can uncover and resolve all of my own deeply-rooted emotional issues if I just think about them hard enough for long enough using the right mental framework. but luckily I’ll never have to go to therapy because I cleverly managed to uncover and resolve all of my deeply-rooted emotional issues completely by myself in my own head just by thinking obsessively about them using the correct mental framework
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If I became extremely cringe and posted a bunch of backlog sims stuff (mostly lady terror x francis stuff) would y’all be into it or?????
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Day 6 - Recordings
Worldbuilding, fictional politics, vague mentions of torture
[Follows Hands of Time]
Sarah felt her blood run cold. She found what she was looking for. A quick glance through the security cameras proved she was still under the radar, her direct uplink to the severs undetected.
Harrison didn’t know she was here; she was on her own if things went tits up.
She came here to wipe the files. The recordings, the data, the history. She couldn’t let them use the results of that project. She couldn’t let them use what they had done to ordinary people - to Harrison - for the “greater good” of the country.
A country all too happy to bloody its hands for profit and control.
Then why was she hesitating?
Deleting these records would prevent something like the Project Leda becoming standard protocol, from happening again when the government inevitably wanted better results.
Deleting these records erased any evidence of the crimes committed by the government against its own people.
Against Harrison.
He didn’t know about any of this; he didn’t know about the recordings, about the Projects. It was her instinct to call him, to ask him what he wanted, what he would do -
But Harrison wasn’t here, and Sarah was on her own.
She saved the data to an external drive.
It would take the worm she released into the server mere minutes to destroy the original data. A project five years in operation, a body count blacked out in sharpie, festering for a lifetime in the minds of those that survived - lost to a string of intangible code between the time it took Sarah to cross the building and slip away into the night.
All gone.
Save for the little black box she carried close to her chest, there was no evidence left of the hell Harrison had survived.
[Followed by Freelancers: Changing Tides]
(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)
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