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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It

featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway

DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)

(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)

seriously though some of these are really bad

#1: He A Snack

Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.

Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.

Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I want a divorce.

#2: I’m From Hell

Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.

Klaus: Everything hurts.

#3: Animal Puns

Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.

Diego: You’re my otter half.

Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.

#4: Stars

Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Klaus: Yup.

Diego: You know who else is beautiful?

Klaus: Ben.

#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister

Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.

Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.

#6: Bad Boys

Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.

Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.

Diego: Well yeah but -

Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.

Diego: … I wear leather?

Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.

#7: Prince Charming

Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -

Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.

Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.

Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.

#8: Chemistry

Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -

Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.

#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.

Diego: I like your pants.

Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.

Diego: *voice cracks* Really?

Klaus: No.

#10: Boyfriend Material

Diego: My jeans are made of -

Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.

Diego: Okay but -

Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.

#11: Digits

Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -

Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.

Diego: I can… buy us some?

Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.

Diego: Baby no.

Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?

Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.

Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.

#12: Love At First Sight

Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -

Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.

Diego: - should I walk by again?

Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.

#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You

Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -

Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.

#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit

Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.

Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?

Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.

Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.

Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.

#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It

Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?

Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -

Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?

Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?

Diego: *rethinking life decisions*

#16: Baby I’m All Yours

Diego: Do you have a name?

Klaus: Klaus.

Diego: Or can I call you mine?

Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.

Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?

Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.

#17: (Not) Bookworms

Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.

Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.

Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*

Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.

Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?

Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.

Diego: And you know this how?

Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?

Diego: Can you let of my face please?

#18: Bad Move, Buddy

Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you just call me old?

Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -

Klaus: *releases savage war cry*

Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*

#19: I Rate This 0/10

Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -

Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.

Diego: Oh… I know, baby -

Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -

Diego: Klaus.

#20: Oh Shit

Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?

Klaus:

Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?

Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -

#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For

Diego: Is your name Google? Because -

Klaus: Diego. For the last time…

Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -

Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?

#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.

Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?

Klaus: Drugs.

Diego: Baby -

Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.

Diego: *grins* For Five?

Klaus: *nods* For Five.

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego: He’ll hate them.

Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.

#23: Deja Vu

Diego: Have we met before?

Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?

Diego: No -

Diego: Wait, you’re high?

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: No?

#24: Such An Optimist

Diego: Are you a time traveller?

Klaus: No, that’s Five.

Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!

Klaus: *stares blankly*

Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?

Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.

Klaus: Because. Ya know.

Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.

Diego:

Diego: Okay then.

#25: Please Go To The Hospital.

Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?

Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!

#26: Suicidal Tendencies

Diego: Hey gorgeous -

Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?

Diego: What?! No! Baby -

#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))

Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.

Klaus:

Klaus: You have five seconds to run.

Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -

#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.

Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?

Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?

Diego:

Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?

Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.

Diego:

Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.

#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap

Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?

Diego: *smirks*

Klaus: *frowns*

Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…

Diego: Klaus -

Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!

Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -

#30: What A Tragedy

Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.

Klaus:

Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.

Diego: *tearing up* I know.

Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?

Diego: *crying* Yes please.

#31: That Can’t Be Allowed

Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*

Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.

Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*

Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.

#32: Merry Christmas

Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: *pouts*

Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!

Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -

Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!

#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.

Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?

Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*

Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.

Diego: *takes soft tiger*

Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.

Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.

#34: Excuse Me?

Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?

Klaus, externally: *blinks*

Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?

#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One

Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.

Klaus: But I’m so unique…

Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.

Diego: Okay…?

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?

Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.

Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.

Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.

Diego:

Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?

Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*

Diego: How the fuck -

#37: Why Would You Say That Though

Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.

Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?

Luther: *chokes on a pickle*

Diego: Oh my god no -

Diego: Well sometimes -

Diego: I mean no of course not -

Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*

#38: Be Safe Kids!

Diego: Can you hold this for me?

Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.

#39: Apocalypse Averted!

Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.

Diego:

Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -

Vanya: *crying from laughter*

#40: Attractive

Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -

Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*

Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -

Diego: *squeaks* What?

#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego

Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?

Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: I’m waiting.

Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -

#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One

Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?

Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.

Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?

Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?

Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.

Klaus: *smiles*

Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*

Klaus: Okay.

Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*

#43: It’s Just You.

Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Klaus, blushing: I -

Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?

Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?

Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.

Diego:

Diego: What?

#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.

Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?

Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.

#46: What The Fuck Klaus

Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.

#47: You Dumbass

Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?

Klaus:

Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: Fuck you’re right -

#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though

Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.

Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*

Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: What the fuck Klaus -

#49: HELLO

Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?

Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.

Diego: So you are happy to see me?

Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.

#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.

Diego: I love you.

Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.

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sahmandbean · 2 years

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Inherited Manor Challenge FAQ

Does How do I download and place the save file?

Follow the link in the original challenge post or in the menu. Once you have downloaded the save file, place it directly in your saves folder by following this file path: documents > electronic arts > Sims 4 > saves. Make sure it doesn’t match any of the other save files, and if it does, change one of the digits. Launch your game and you should see a new save file titled Inherited Manor Challenge.

Where do I start?

Wherever you want! The greenhouse is probably going to be the easiest choice, but the servant quarters would give the advantage of a whole liveable space relatively quickly.

How do I randomly remove a lot challenge?

When you complete a Room, you get to randomly remove a lot challenge. Go into Build mode and use the lot details panel in the top left hand corner of your screen to access the lot traits and challenges. Count how many lot challenges are left, and use a random number generator to see which one gets the boot. Simply disable the challenge and go back into live mode.

How do I restore burned furniture?

If you click on the furniture, you will have the option to replace it. You can also follow the Civil Designer career path from Eco Lifestyle and unlock and manufacture the Smog Vacuum, which has the power to restore burned objects.

My Sim cleans everything, not just the current room! What should I do?

Remember, the more time you spend cleaning other rooms, the less time you have to make money, which is very important for this challenge. I recommend turning off autonomy and keeping an eye on your Sim, and try to keep cleaning in the current room as much as possible to keep with the spirit of the challenge.

Bust the Dust is making my Sim sick and stressed! Can I turn it off?

I don’t have this kit, and kinda forgot about it, so you can disable the dust guilt-free! There will still be plenty of cleaning to do, and you can re-enable it once you have some Rooms cleaned up.

Does the Sim have to be brand new?

No, but the only way for the build to place properly is by using the save file. If you want to use a sim from one of your current saves, you will either have to upload them to your library and place them in the house, or turn off aging when you place the build from the gallery and use a throwaway sim to burn the lot in preparation.

How do I get in the house? It’s so expensive! And how do I then start with exactly 500 simoleons?

When you are moving in your sim, press ctrl+shift+c and enter freerealestate on in the cheats text box. Once you have moved in, type testingcheats on and hit enter, then money 500 and enter. Use ctrl+shift+c again to close the cheats text box.

Is this the Heir to Ruins challenge?

Nope. I didn’t even know that existed until I posted this challenge on Reddit. It is similar, but I think it’s different enough to be a stand-alone, unique challenge.

How do I clean up the garden?

After your sim clears all the trash, the rest of the decorative objects can be removed in Build mode.

Can I sell collectibles I find on the property?

Yes! The only things off-limits when it comes to making money are 1) cheats and 2) selling items from the Rooms before the floor is complete.

Can I make one?

Absolutely. Once I get a better idea of how this and future similar challenges will fit together and run, I will make a list of criteria for anyone who wants to make an “official” build for the challenge. For now, just go crazy with fireworks and enjoy the process.

#inherited manor challenge #inheritedmanorchallenge #sims 4 #sims 4 challenge

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years

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I saw the alter ego scenarios, so could I request those by with Kokichi, Shuichi, and Rantaro? Thanks!😄😄😄

Kokichi

The usually deceitful and grinning supreme leader was quite serious throughout the trial, even letting his genuine emotions show anytime he spoke. It surprised most of his classmates, though they still remained wary of him.

But it was also strange not to hear you immediately call your boyfriend out on his lies...because, well..you weren’t there anymore.

Directly across from him was your empty podium, a portrait in place of where he’d see your smile, shocked expressions, or the determined glint in your eyes as you debated with everyone.

Never again will he see any of those, because every time he looked forward--he was faced with the harsh reality: You were dead.

He kept trying to tell himself that it was just another prank, another lie.

However no amount of lies in the world could cover up the painful truth.

Kokichi only got angrier throughout the trial, and when the culprit was sentenced to their execution--he had to be held back as he tried lunging at them, crying and screaming about how stupid they were to kill you and not him.

But not even the execution could make him feel any better. He just shoved away everyone who tried to console him and ran away from the Shrine of Judgement, returning to his room where he cried until his chest ached.

This was the very thing he feared happening--yet he tried to play it off as some “fun game”, because he was scared to face the reality of you or him possibly dying.

And here that reality was..slapping him right in the face.

“God..fucking..DAMN IT!!” He shouted, face burning red as he kicked over a box in the midst of his temper tantrum.

Though as his Monokubs tablet fell to the floor, he noticed it turn on suddenly. And for a moment, he stopped and looked at it, before picking it up in confusion. “..h-huh? What’s...?”

On the screen appeared some kind of digital background, and then a chibi-like avatar of you appeared.

“Oh! Looks like I’m finally online!”

Kokichi felt his heart almost stop. It was your voice. But...it couldn’t actually be you.

“Wh-What are you?” He mumbled. “There’s no way you...can be [y/n]...”

“I’m an alter ego of them, to be more precise.” Your avatar answered. “[Y/n] created me in their lab, with some help from Miu!”

He chuckled in amusement. “I see, but..is this why they’ve been ignoring me sometimes?” A slight pout formed on his face. “I would’ve loved to know what kept them cooped-up in-”

“Kokichi? Have you been crying? Did..something happen to my creator?”

“Huh? Oh..no I’m not crying..s-stupid bot..” Somehow, hearing the concern in your voice got him choked up all over again, as he tried hiding his puffy eyes with his sleeve. “It’s called “getting something in your eye”, n-not that dumb AIs like you would understa-”

“I do have a lie detector installed, so I know you’re-”

“They’re DEAD, okay?!! [Y/n] is DEAD!!” He snapped angrily, glaring at the screen, though when he saw your avatar make a sad emoticon, his hands trembled. This time, he just let the tears stream down his face. “Did they know..th-they were gonna die? Is that why they made you and kept you hidden from me?!”

“No. I can assure you that wasn’t their intention,” you insisted. “They left me on your Monokubs device as a..surprise gift, you could say.”

“..a surprise? Heheh...” Kokichi set the tablet on the table, sniffling as he sat down on his bed. Then he rubbed his eyes. “They always had surprises for me...just like I did."

“I’m sure they wouldn’t have appreciated calling me a “dumb AI”, though.” Your avatar sweatdropped.

“That was only a lie.”

“...I detected that before.”

“Oh I’m suuuuure you did.” He took the tablet back into his hands, sighing. “You’re certainly more humanlike than Kee-boy, I’ll give ya that.”

.............

Shuichi

In the late hours following the trial, Shuichi couldn’t sleep at all. He was much too busy crying into his pillow, curled up as he sobbed so much it hurt to breathe.

You became another victim, another body for him to discover, and another portrait in the trial room.

Only five minutes ago, before that body discovery, were you smiling and hugging him, promising that you two will escape this place together. But fate has decided against that. And his happiness was ripped out of his clutches.

The only good thing was learning that your death was a complete accident, and you didn’t suffer too much, according to the culprit--who was also in tears.

Yet those realizations did little to ease the ache in his heart...accident or not, you were dead and never coming back. Never again would you get to hold him when he started having doubts of himself.

The detective soon heard his doorbell ringing, but he had no will to train tonight. He didn’t have the will to do anything anymore..

Somehow, he managed to drag himself out of bed, not caring about his tearstained face or unkempt hair as he answered the door. “Sorry, I’m not r-really-”

Instead of finding a person on the other side, however, he instead found...his Monokubs tablet?

Confused, he picked it up and closed the door, returning to his bed and switching the device on. But what he saw on the screen nearly made him sob all over again:

It was you as a familiar chibi digital avatar. “Hello!” Your voice greeted, which made him cup a hand over his mouth as tears ran down his face. “Oh! Shuichi, right?”

“[Y/n]..y-you’re...no...you’re not actually, [y/n], are you?”

“You’d be correct. I’m an alter ego of them. My creator downloaded their avatar from Miu’s virtual world to give me this form, and they used technology from their own lab to install me onto this device. Are..they around?”

“I’m..sorry but..they’re gone.” He choked out, burying his face into his hands. “I-I’m so sorry..I..I failed them. I couldn’t protect them and it’s all my fau-”

“No..I’m sure they wouldn’t blame you for what happened,” your avatar comforted. “I know I can’t offer much comfort, but if I may try something----%$*%@#%^----”Shuichi, hun?””

Shuichi looked up after hearing your change of tone, seeing that your voice had become softer and more humanlike. “[Y/n]...I-I-”

“Listen, what happened to me isn’t your fault, so please don’t ever blame yourself. No one could’ve predicted my death. The important thing is...you found out the truth, and I can rest easy knowing that. I’ll always be watching over you. Please..keep surviving this game, keep fighting for the truth. I love you so much, Shuichi.”

He could only remain in shocked silence as you spoke to him, then your avatar glitched and its more robotic tone returned. “I’m sure that’s what they would’ve wanted to say. I may not understand what “love” is, but..it seems very strong between you two.”

For the first time since the trial, he felt a smile form on his face as he laughed softly, wiping away his tears. “Th-Thank you, Alter Ego.”

With this AI you created, he knew you weren’t truly gone forever.

........

Rantaro

‘Why did it have to be them? Why didn’t I go with them? Why, why, why?!’

Rantaro could only repeat that question in his mind as he clutched his head, sitting on his bed and staring at the floor with tearful eyes.

Just as this game had started, just as you two promised to end it together...a single shot put ball shattered that hope.

As another survivor of the previous game, you knew there was something suspicious about the hidden door in the library thanks to the perk on your Monopad, and you offered to investigate it in Rantaro’s place.

He argued against it, but you insisted you wanted to end this nightmare before it began. And so you stormed off, the pressures of the time limit agitating you.

Who knew that argument would be the first and last one you ever had with him?

Just like that...it started again: the investigation, the trial, and the execution. But he came numb to it a long time ago, even though he tried not to blame the culprit..as they shared the same intention on stopping the game.

When he returned to his room, he discovered a note attached to your room key. He read it, and nearly cried when it mentioned how scared you were of the time limit coming to an end and everyone getting killed.

Though in the event that he somehow survived--given he is the Ultimate Survivor--and you didn’t, he can enter your room to retrieve a “special project” you’ve worked on ever since gaining access to your lab.

And he did exactly that, finding a tablet sitting at your empty desk. He sat down and switched it on, hoping the information would unveil something about the mastermind.

Instead, though, he was greeted by-

“Hello! I’m Alter Ego [Y/n]!”

“An..alter ego?” Rantaro blinked, looking at the digital chibi-like character on the screen in wonder. It looked like you and even had your voice. “Are you an AI they created?”

“Yep! But...if you found me then..that means-”

“[Y/n] is gone..” He bowed his head, feeling the ache in his heart returning. “I found their note and...you’re the special project they wanted to show me.”

“Correct.” You nodded. “I’m..sorry that they passed. I’m sure they wanted to see your reaction to me but..that no longer seems to be the case. I’ll do my very best to keep you company, Rantaro.”

“They did make an adorable avatar,” he chuckled. “I just...wish things didn’t start out this way. I miss them so much. But, as long as I have you, they aren’t truly gone, right?”

“Yep! And..I will also carry out their wish to find anything I can about the mastermind..i-if such a person even exists.”

“They exist.” His expression became determined. “We will find them and end this game...no matter what it takes.”

#clanask #anonymous #danganronpa x reader #drv3 #kokichi ouma #kokichi ouma x reader #shuichi saihara #shuichi saihara x reader #rantaro amami #rantaro amami x reader #tw death #hurt/comfort #angst #danganronpa spoilers

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scifrey · 3 years

Photo

WORDS FOR WRITERS: The Value of Fanfiction

There’s been a lot of chatter on social media these last few weeks, recycling that trashy, self-aggrandizing, tired old “hot take” that reading and writing fanfiction is somehow bad for you as a writer.

Before we go any further, let me give a clear and definitive answer to this take:

No, reading and writing fanfiction will not make you and does not make you a bad reader or writer.

Period.

Why? Here’s the TL;DR version:

1) Reading and Writing, any kind of reading and writing, will make you a better reader and writer. And it’s enjoyable, to boot.

2) Fanfiction has been around as long as Original Fiction, so we’d know if there was any negative impact by now (spoiler alert: there isn’t.)

3) Practice is Practice, so matter what medium you get that practice in.

4) Comprehending and writing fanfiction is harder than writing original fiction because you have to hold the Source Media Text in your head at the same time as you’re reading/writing a different story. It improves your understanding of storytelling.

5) No hobby, no matter what it is, so long as it doesn’t harm anyone else or yourself, is bad. And that goes double for if you decide to keep it a hobby. Not every fanfic writer wants to write original fiction, and that’s just fine. Not every hobby has to be monetized.

Okay. But what do they mean by “fanfiction”?

“Fanfiction is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual properties from the original creator as a basis for their writing.”-- Wikipedia

Basically – it’s when you take elements (setting, characters, major themes or ideas) of a Media Text (a novel, a movie, a podcast, a comic, etc.) and create a different story with those elements. You can write a missing scene, or an extended episode, or a whole new adventure for the characters of the Media Text. You can even crossover or fuse multiple Media Texts, or specific elements, to create a whole new understanding of the characters or their worlds.

Similar to fanfic, you can also create fanart, fancomics, or fansongs (“filk”), fancostumes (“cosplay”), and fanfilms. These are called Fanworks or Fancrafts.

Fanfiction is usually posted to online forums, journals, blogs, or story archives and shared for free among the public. Before the advent of the internet, fanfiction was often printed or typed, and hand-copied using photocopiers or ditto machines, and distributed for free (or for a small administration fee to cover materials) among fans at conventions, or through mail-order booklets (“zines”).

Fanfiction has existed pretty much since the beginning of storytelling (A Thousand and One Nights, Robin Hood, and King Arthur all have different elements attributed to them by different authors retelling, twisting, adding to, or changing the stories; there’s no single-origin author of those tales.)

There are billions on billions of fanfics out there in the world—and while a majority of them are romance stories, there are also adventures, comedies, dramas, thrillers, stories based on case files, stories about the emotional connection between characters when one is hurt and the other must care for them, historical retellings, etc. There are also stories for every age range and taste, though be sure to take heed of the tags, trigger warnings, and age range warnings as your browse the archives and digital libraries.

As a reader, it’s your responsibility to curate your experience online.

So why are people so afraid or derisive of fanfic?

People who are hard on fanfic say that…

· It sucks.

o Well of course it sucks! As it’s a low-stakes and easy way to try out creative writing for the first time, the majority of fanfiction is overwhelmingly written by new and young writers. Everything you do when you first try it sucks a little bit.

I’m sure no figure skater was able to immediately land perfect triple axels ten minutes after they strap on the skates for the first time in their lives. No knitter has ever made a flawlessly perfect jumper on their first try. No mathematician has ever broken the code to send a rocket into space after having just been taught elementary-school multiplication. So why on earth do people think that new writers don’t need to practice? I can promise you that Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first rap was probably pretty shaky.

· It’s lazy or it’s cheating.

o Listen, anyone who tells you that writing anything is lazy clearly has not sat down and tried to write anything. Writing is tedious. It is boring. It takes hours, and hours, and hours to get anything on the page, and then once it’s on the page you have to go back and edit it. UGH. There is nothing about being a writer—even a fanfic writer—that is lazy.

o And anyone who tells you that trying to tell a fresh, new story within the limits and confines of a pre-existing world and have it make sense is cheating, then they have no freaking clue how hard it is to be creative with that kind of limitation placed on you. It’s harder when you have a set of rules you need to follow. What you do come up with is often extremely interesting and creative because of those limitations, not in spite of them.

o The argument that using pre-made characters, settings, tropes, and worlds to make up a new story is cheating is also complete bunk. Do those same people also expect hockey players to whittle and plane themselves a whole new hockey stick from scratch before each game? No, of course not. And yeah, a baker can grow all their own wheat, grind the flour, raise the chickens and cows so they can get eggs and milk, distill the vanilla, etc. Or a baker can buy a box mix. Either way, you get a cake at the end of the process. Whether you write fanfic or original fiction, you still get a story at the end of the process.

· It makes you a worse writer.

o * annoying buzzer noise * Practicing anything does not make you worse at it. And reading stories that are not edited, expertly crafted, or “high art” will also not indoctrinate you into being a bad writer. If anything, figuring out why you don’t like a specific story, trope, or writing style is actually a great way to learn what kind of writer you want to be, and to learn different methods of constructing sentences, creating images, and telling tales. Or you know, just how much spelling and grammar matter.

· It’s not highbrow or thoughtful enough.

o Sometimes stories are allowed to be just comfort food. Not every book or story you read has to be haute cuisine or boringly nutritious. You are allowed to read stories because they’re exciting, or swoony, or funny, or just because you like them. Anyone who says differently is a snob and worth ignoring. (Besides, fun silly stories can also be packed with meaning and lessons—I mean, hello, Terry Pratchett, anyone?)

· It makes you waste all your time on writing that can’t be monetized.

o No time is wasted if you spend it doing something that brings you joy. Not every hobby needs to be a money-maker and not everyone wants to be a professional writer. You are allowed to write, and read, fanfic just for the fun of it.

· It’s theft.

o According to Fair Use Law, it’s not. As long as the fanfic writer (or artist, cosplayer, etc.) is not making money on their creation that directly impacts or cuts into the original creator’s profit, or is not repackaging/plagiarizing the original Media Text and profiting off it’s resale, then Fan Works are completely legal. So there.

How, exactly, does fanfic make you a better writer?

Fanfiction…

· teaches you to finish what you start.

o The joy of being able to share your fic, either as you’re writing it, or afterward, is a big motivating factor for a lot of people. They finish because they get immediate feedback on it from their readers and followers. Lots of people have ideas for books, but how many of them do you know have actually sat down and written the whole thing?

o Fanfic is also low-stakes; there’s nothing riding on whether you finish something or not, so you have to inspire yourself to get there without the outside (potentially negative) motivation of deadline or a failing grade if you don’t get the story finished. You end up learning how to motivate yourself.

o Fanfic has no rules, so you write as much or as little as you want, stop wherever you think is a good place to end the story, write it out of order, or go back and write as many sequels or prequels as you like. Again, it’s totally low-stakes and is meant to be for fun, so you can noodle around with what it means to write a “whole” story and “complete” it, which teaches you how you like to write, and how you like to find your way to the finish line.

· teaches you story structure.

o Before you can sit down and write a story based on one of your favorite Media Texts, you’re likely to spend a lot of time consuming that text passively, or studying it actively. Either way, you’re absorbing how and why Media Text structures the stories it tells, and are learning how to structure your own from that.

o Once you’re comfortable with the story structure the Media Text you’re working in is told, you’ll probably start experimenting with different ways stories can be told, and find the versions you like to work with best.

· teaches you how to write characters consistently.

o Fanfic is really hard because not only do you have to write your fave characters in a way that moves the story along, but they have to be recognizable as those fave characters.

o This means you have to figure out their body language, verbal and physical tics, their motivations and they way the handle a crisis (fight, flight, or fawn?), and then make up the details you may need for your story that you may never see on screen/the page, like how they take their eggs or what their fave shampoo is, based on what you already know about them. That takes some top-notch detective work and character understanding to pull off.

o Once you know how to do that, just making up a whole person yourself for original fiction is a breeze.

· Teaches you how to hear and mimic a character/narrator voice.

o You have to pay close attention to how an actor speaks, or how a character’s speech patterns, dialect, work choice, etc. is reflected on the page in order to be consistent in your story.

o And all of this, in turn, teaches you how to build one for yourself.

o I have a whole series of articles here about building a narrative voice, if you want to read more on constructing an original voice for your narrator.

· Teaches you how to create or recreate a setting.

o Again, like achieving character consistency, or mimicking a character or narrative voice, it takes work and paying attention in order to re-create a setting, time period, or geographical region in a fanfic—and if you’re taking your characters somewhere new, your readers will expect that setting to be equally rich as the one the Media Text is based in.

o Which, again, teaches you how to then go and build an original one for yourself.

· teaches how to take critique.

o Professional writing is not a solitary pursuit. In fact, most writing is not entirely the work of an author alone. Like professional authors work with editors, critique partners, and proofreaders, some fanfiction writers will sometimes work with beta-readers or editors as well. This are friends or fanfic colleagues who offer to read your fanfic and point out plot, character, consistency, or story structure errors, or who offer to correct spelling and grammar errors. This is a great way to practice working with editors if you decide to pursue a professional career, and also a great way to make friends and strengthen your community and skill set if you don’t.

o Many fanfic sites offer readers the opportunity to leave a comment on a fic, rather like a reviewer can leave a review on GoodReads or Amazon, or any other online store or blog, for a novel they’ve read. Sometimes these comments/reviews are 5 star and enthusiastic! Sometimes they are… not. The exact opposite in fact. As you get comments on your fanfic, and learn to ignore the ones that are just mean rather than usefully critical, you gain the Very Important Skill of learning to resist firing back at bad comments or reviews, while enjoying the good ones. It also teaches you how to ignore drama or haters.

· Teaches you how to exist within a like-minded community.

o While the actual writing part of writing is solitary and sometimes tedious, nothing is ever published into a vacuum, whether it be fanfiction or original. Besides your editing/critique/beta reader group, you will also likely develop friendships, a support network, and mutuals. It’s always great to uplift, support, cheer on, and celebrate one another’s accomplishments and victories, whether the writing is fanfic or original.

· Teaches you that it’s okay to write about things important to you, or your own identity.

o You can change a characters ethnicity, cultural background, sexuality, religion, or disabilities to match yours, and talk about your lived life through the megaphone of that character. Or, you can insert original characters based on you, your desires, and experiences.

o Once you’re comfortable writing in your #ownvoice in fanfic, you can approach it in original fiction, if you like.

o See my article titled Your Voice Is Valid for more on this.

What if I want to be a professional writer?

Notice how I didn’t say “real writer”. Any writer who writes any kind of story is a ‘real’ writer. I mean, pinch yourself—you’re real, right? The difference is actually between being an “amateur” writer (a hobbyist who does not write for pay), and a “professional” (who is paid for their writing). Just because you only play shinny on the street with your friends, or in a house league on the weekends, it’s doesn’t mean you’re not still as much of a hockey player as someone who plays in the NHL.

Writing fanfiction before or at the same time as writing original fiction that you intend to sell is a great way to learn, or practice, everything I’ve mentioned above. If you read it widely, it will also expose you to different story telling styles, voices, and tropes than your reading of published fiction.

· Can I sell my fanfic?

o No. For fanfiction to remain under the umbrella of Fair Use Law, you cannot profit off your fanfiction. There’s some grey-area wiggle room around things like charging a small amount for a ‘zine or a PDF to cover administrative costs, but zero wiggleability around, say, selfpublishing your fanfic and charging heaps for it.

· Can I “file off the serial numbers”?

o “Filing of the series numbers” is when you take a fanfic you’ve written and essentially pull it apart, remove everything that’s clearly someone else’s Media Text, and reassembling the story so that it’s pretty much a completely original piece of creative writing.

o Yes, you can sell these, provided your filing is rigorous enough that you aren’t likely to be dinged for plagiarism. It’s widely known that Cassandra Claire’s Shadowhunters was once Harry Potter fanfic, and that Fifty Shades of Gray was once Twilight fanfic. But did you know that my Triptych started life as an idea for a Stargate Atlantis fic? There’s lots of stories out there that were once full fics, or the idea for the novel was originally conceived for a fandom, but written as original instead.

o So long as you’re careful to really rework the text so that it’s not just a find-name-replace-name rewrite, you should be fine.

o Be aware, though, that the agents and editors you might pitch this novel to know how to Google. They may discover that this is a filed-off story, and depending on their backgrounds and biases, might be concerned about it. There’s no need to inform them of the novel’s origin straight off in your pitch/query letter, but you may want to have a frank discussion with them about it after it’s been signed so they can help you make sure that any lingering copywrited concepts or characters are thoroughly changed before publication.

o Should you take down the original fic-version of the novel while you’re querying/shopping it? Well, that’s up to you, and whether you’re comfortable with an editor/agent potentially finding it.

· Should I be ashamed of my fic, or take it down, or pretend I never wrote fic?

o What? Why? No! I mean, I have hidden some of my most immature work, but I’ve left pretty much my whole catalogue of fanfic online and I don’t deny that I was/am a ficcer. Why? Because it’s a great repository of free stories that people can read before they buy one of my books, so they can get a taste of how and what I write. Also, you will be in good company. Lots and lots of writers who are published now-a-days started in fandom, including:

Steven Moffat

Seanan McGuire

Rainbow Rowell

Claudia Gray

Cory Doctorow

Marissa Meyer

Meg Cabot.

Naomi Novik

Neil Gaiman

Lev Grossman

S.E. Hinton

John Scalzi

The Bronte Sisters

Andy Weir

Sarah Rees Brennan

Marjorie M. Liu

Anna Todd

...and me, J.M. Frey

How fanfic can harm.

Like with anything else, there are ways that reading and writing fanfiction can actually harm you, or others, but it has nothing to do with the reading or writing of fanfiction in and of itself.

· Some creators may prefer that you don’t (and may or may not follow up with legal action).

o Anne Rice famously went after fanficcers in the 90s who wrote fanfic of her work, handing out Cease & Desist notices like confetti.

o 99% of creators don’t care. Those who do will generally have a notice on their websites or social media politely asking fancreators to refrain. Mostly this is due to their general discomfort over the idea of anyone else getting to play in their worlds. The best thing to do is respect that request, and find a different fandom to write in.

· Flamewars and fandom fights leading to bullying and doxing.

o Regrettably, just like any other community filled with people who have different favorites, opinions, and preferences, there will inevitably be clashes. It’s up to you to decide how to react to negative interactions, and how to model positive ones.

o Don’t forget, you curate your online experience, so don’t be afraid of that block button.

o Also, don’t be the jerk who goes after people for liking different aspects of the fandom. Everyone is entitled to interact and like a Media Text their own way. “Don’t yuck my yum,” as they say.

· Trying to make money on other people’s IP/Media Text (law suits, etc.)

o It doesn’t belong to you, so don’t try to make money on it.

o There’s a grey area here in terms of selling prints/plushies/jewelry/etc. and there’s no hard line about where one copyright owner will draw the line, and another won’t. Warner Bros. owns the film rights for both Harry Potter and Hunger Games, but I’ve seen Harry Potter-themed bars spring up while fans wanting to make Hunger Game fanfilms have been shut down. A friend of mine sells hand-made fandom-inspired items at cons—there is no rhyme or reason to what she gets told to stop making and what she’s left alone on.

o Best thing to do if you’re told to stop is just so stop, move on, and find a different fandom to be active in.

· Writing Real Person Fanfic (“RPF”) can be considered a violation of consent.

o This article sums it up pretty well, but basically… if you decide to write RPF, be aware that they person you are writing about is a real person, with real thoughts, and emotions, and they may feel violated by RPF. If you decide to write it, never send it to the people it’s about, and always clearly tag it so other can choose to engage with it, or avoid it.

o Also be aware that it could ruin their love for what they do. For example: the friendships between the members of 1Direciton became strained and the band eventually disintegrated because people wouldn’t stop sending band members smutty stories or art of them having sex with one another, and it made them too uncomfortable to continue in the band.

· Showing/sharing fanfic & fanart outside of its intended context. Fanworks are for fans, and there are definitely issues if…

o It’s shown to celebrities/actors/creators.

Shoving your fantasies onto the people who create or portray your fave characters is rude, and wrong, and also kinda gross. If they seek it out themselves, that’s one thing, but the same way you wouldn’t throw it at a complete stranger, don’t throw it at them. You may love the characters these people play, but they are not their characters, and they are not your friends.

It may also really weird them out and ruin their love for what they do.

o it’s shown to writers working on the series.

There was a famous case where a fanficcer sent a story to a novelist, and the novelist was accused of plagiarism by the ficcer when their next novel in the series resembled the plot of that fanfic. There was a whole court case and everything.

Because of this, writers of TV shows, books, etc. don’t want to (and often times, legally can’t) read your fanfic. They don’t want to get accidentally inspired by what you’ve written, or worse, have to throw out something because it resembles your fic too closely. Just let them write their stories the way they want, and if they choose to seek out fic, they will.

o it’s mocked by celebrities.

I’m not letting Alan Carr and Graham Norton off the hook. If it’s super rude and gross to shove fanworks at actors/writers/creators when you’re a creator, then it’s doubly rude for anyone to take a story or art made for a specific audience (the fans), by a specific community (the fans), lift it out of it’s context, and invite the public to mock it while also shoving it at the actor/celebrity in a place where they are literally cornered and can’t leave (i.e. the chat-show sofa). Man, it really steams me up when they do that. It’s rude and it’s tone-deaf, and it’s not fair.

And most of the time they do it, they don’t even ask the artist or writer for permission, first, which is just…. Uuuuugggghhhh. It may be fanfic, but it was still created by someone, and you should always ask permission before publicly sharing something created by someone else.

Grrrrrrr.

In Conclusion

If someone tells you that reading or writing fanfic is bad for you as a creator, tell them to get bent.

Famous Fanfic

· Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda

· Wicked by Gregory Maguire

· Wicked: the Musical by Stephen Schwartz

· The Phantom of Manhattan by Fredrick Forsyth

· A Study in Emerald by Neil Gaiman

· Sherlock by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat

· The Dracula Tape, by Fred Saberhaugen

· Paradise Lost, John Milton

· Inferno, by Dante

· The Aeneid, by Virgil

· Ulysses, by James Joyce

· Romeo & Juliet, by William Shakespeare

· The Once and Future King by T.H. White

· A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, by Mark Twain

· The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas

· Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, by Seth Grahame-Smith

· Phantom, a novel of his life by Susan Kaye

· …and so many more.

#words for writers #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fiction is good for you #writing #am writing #writing community #writing fanfiction #writing fanfic

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nautiscarader · 4 years

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Calm yo’ tits - a present fic for ZekkKiray

Rating: E, ladynoir/Adrinette (post-reveal), 9143 words (by notepad++ count, 8886 according to Ao3, so one of you is LYING)

Read on Ao3

contains breastfeeding, lactation and mooificated large breasts.

Now, if you look at the tags (and the word count), and you know me, you might be understandably confused and worried that I might have been possessed, hacked by a Russian bot, or simply gone mad. The last part is very likely, but it is not the reason of this fic's existence.

The fic you are about to read is a present for my buddy, ZekkKiray, a vastly superior fic writer, who on one occasion quoted my works as inspiration for his, which solves once and for all the age-old philosophical dilemma, proving that something can indeed come from nothing.

I knew, to some extent, what his favourite kinks are, which sadly, were not exactly compatible with mine. So I needed to find a fandom we both like, and where I wouldn't have to worry too much about silly things like logic or common sense.

Enter "Miraculous Ladybug".

To put it simply, this fic is a bit of crack, I tried working some elements from my personal headcanons, and it doesn't break, assuming you don't push it too hard. More importantly, though, it's a birthday crack. Happy birthday, pal!

Also, this takes place after S3 finale.

================================

Sitting tensely in her chaise-longue, Marinette eyed her tutor and a temporary enemy with a keen eye. She has taken many exams in her young adult life, but this one might have been the most important so far. She concentrated on the small, levitating creature that flew that past her head, and when Tikki revealed a card, Marinette instantly replied.

- Zaggu, gnu kwami, the hero is Ram-page, and has ability to shapeshift terrain. Strong, but not too agile. Best pair with Pegasus for optimum efficiency. - she spoke quickly. - Yes! That's the last one! - Tikki cheered, flying to nuzzle Marinette's cheek.

For the past few days, Marinette has been extensively trying to fill in the shoes of Master Fu, as the new Miraculous guardian, and she has passed her self-imposed exam with flying colours, guessing each and every Kwami Tikki has tested her with.

- Well, if there are any challenging akumas, you will surely be able to know how to dispose of them! - Tikki cheered. - I sure hope so. - Marinette smiled - But now I have to study for actual exams, Tikki.

Marinette walked to her desk, took her college textbooks and opened them, her other hand already deep in the bowl of fruit snacks she prepared beforehand, knowing of the revision session ahead of her.

- Don't you want to study with Adrien? - Tikki flew by her head - Last time you said he's helped you a lot. - I wish. - Marinette sighed dreamily at the sound of her boyfriend's name - And he did, but...

Her cheeks suddenly became slightly deeper shade of burgundy, and she shied away from her Kwami. The mere thought of her boyfriend made her instantly forget about her duties, both as a college student and as a protector of Paris. She let herself indulge in a fantasy of what could happen if the two were put together in her room, and were given a choice between studying for a very boring exam, or doing anything else... However, Marinette had to exert some self-control, and with her friend acting like a second moral compass flying next to her, she had to abandon of her daydream.

- You know, this is quite an important exam, I don't want to be easily distracted and-Adrien!

She let out a gasp when her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to answer at once. Tikki smiled, watching as her friend melts in her chair at the sound of Adrien's voice. Something told her she's not gonna do any revisions today.

===================

In his dark lair, Hakwmoth was listening. With closed eyes, he concentrated his powers to filter out hundreds of voices, trying to find the loudest and angriest, speaking with pure rage and despair.

He heard squabbling teenagers and forgot about them at once.

He heard depressed, neglected workers and didn't give them a second chance.

He heard a man crying, pitiful and heartbroken, because of his beloved pigeo-NO, NOT HIM AGAIN, THIRD SODDING TIME THIS MONTH.

Gabriel sighed and closed the aperture overlooking Paris. Finding a good source for akuma was sometimes surprisingly difficult. So many voices, so many possible candidates. And yet, again and again, he has failed.

Gabriel stepped down into the staircase that brought him down to his office, and was not surprised to find Nathalie waiting for him.

- Anything new for me, Nathalie? - he corrected his glasses - Just one call from the office of Coco Marocco. They asked for a call-back... - Nathalie paused and dropped her formal attitude - Gabriel, is everything alright?

She gently put her hand on his shoulder, and his body twitched in an instinct to brush it off. But he restrained himself, paused and took another deep breath.

- It's sometimes so... difficult. To find a good one... - I know.

He looked back at her and gave her a rare smile, saying much more than he could have at the time.

- I'll make the call, thank you.

Nathalie left his office, never taking her eye from him as she closed the door. Gabriel sat in his chair, leaned back and dialled the number.

"Hi there! You have reached the office of Coco Marocco, the finest brand of clothing this side of the equator. For English, press One. Für Deutsch drücken Sie bitte..."

Gabriel sighed and let the voice machine continue its job.

"... for business inquiries, press 7".

Gabriel quickly pressed the number, and was welcomed with the same, lifeless, mechanical voice.

"To access your account, please input the number..."

Without thinking, Gabriel typed the eleven-digit number on the tone dial, and waited for the next step.

"We apologise. In order to access your account, you need to speak the numbers", the voicemail said.

A small vein twitched on Gabriel's forehead. He spoke each digit, loud and clear, hoping beyond hope it registered properly.

"We apologise, please say the number again."

It took him two more tries to reach the next step, and he finally heard the familiar waiting music. The second it stopped, he started speaking, but he was met with even more disappointing reality.

"Hi there! Thank you for your patience. Your call is incredibly important to us. Your number in the waiting queue is... FOURTEEN".

The mobile phone crashed and broke into dozens of pieces when Gabriel tossed it across the room, careful not to destroy the painting of his wife that hid the entrance to his observatory.

- Why does it have to be so difficult? - he grumbled - Bunch of incompetent buffoons, making the easiest of things so much more difficult-

And then, a sudden burst of inspiration, privileged only to visionaries of his calibre, has dawned on him. He quickly got up and dashed to the elevator, not noticing that the crash alerted Nathalie to peek into his room, as he was too eager to bring his plan into motion as soon as possible.

When he stepped into his lair, he was Hawkmoth again, and he knew exactly what to listen for.

=====================

The glorious weather outside taunted Nino to end his revisions early and go to the nearest park to bathe in the warm sunshine, but alas, he had to spend his day in the near-empty university library. Unable to concentrate, he took his phone and launched the app to check if the last paper has been graded, but was left with a disappointing, never-ending loading screen. He looked at the only other person in the room, sitting by the computer in the corner, and decided to break the ear-splitting silence.

- Hey dude, are the uni servers down, or something? - And when were they not? - the chubby student replied - The app constantly crashes, we can't even check anything, so I'm just loafing around.

Nino gave him - or rather his large neck - a curious look and decided to end the conversation swiftly.

- Well, at least tumblog works... - If only - his interlocutor replied, much to Nino's chagrin, without even taking his headset off - Ugh, why did they change the colour of the background again? - You okay, dude? - he looked at his freckled face, and the man gave him a contemptuous look. - Yeah. But you seem to be okay with using this sub-par version - he glanced at his phone.

Nino raised his eyebrow and glanced at his phone.

- What's wrong with that?

The man groaned.

- Ugh, where do I start? The app also never works, they haven't implemented half the features of the desktop version, they still show sponsored messages, I mean, not for me, I hacked them myself away, and the options, can you believe they dared to change the font, it's so unreadable now...

He took a sip of a drink he definitely shouldn't have been allowed to bring into the library.

- But the site is so full of idiots now, it's not even worth going there anymore. Can you believe there are people defending the new Flunkies game? They've added cut content DLCs now! All of them sheep, they will buy whatever you throw at them, and...

The guy continued to complain into what was now a Nino-shaped void, as he left quietly a minute earlier, slightly afraid that arrogance might be catching.

And he wouldn't be exactly wrong...

If Nino stayed, he would have noticed that the same window that finally tempted him to walk outside with its glorious view, became also a gateway for a dark-purple moth that landed on the student's headset, turning it into equally sinister shade.

Suddenly, the student's complaints, spoken into nothingness, fell on listening ears, and a voice spoke in his head.

- Anton, I am Hakwmoth. I have heard your eloquent delivery, and I must say, you are quite right. - I know I am - Anton replied, without missing a beat. - There are so many little things wrong with this world, and only you know how to fix them... - Yes, I wrote it all on my blog, but now they changed the tagging system, and they don't even filter by the- - The point is - Hakwmoth interrupted him - As all geniuses in history, you are underestimated. Like the Cassandra of the Greek myths, people do not believe you, despite you speaking the truth. But I can change that.

For the first time in rather long time, Anton listened, instead of talking.

- I can give you a platform to speak your wisdom, better than any social media would ever offer. I can give you the voice, and I can give you the chance to make others hear you... And to sway their views at once... - You-you can do that? - Anton asked excitedly, though remaining in his slumped pose. - Oh, yes. - Hakwmoth replied with an oily, greedy voice - All I need in return is for you to bring me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi. They are wrong anyway, so they don't deserve them... Embrace my akuma, and rise-

Gabriel paused. He expected to feel something by now, but instead, he heard a quiet tapping.

- Are-are you typing? - Well, duh, someone is wrong on the Internet. - I was going to give you powers to do all of that a hundred times faster... - Gabriel spoke, unable to believe what he heard. - Okay, I'm done. - Anton spoke - What were you saying?

Stopping the urge to find a new herald of his will, Hakwmoth stomped in place and let the power flow through him and into his new apprentice, transforming his somewhat shaggy clothes into regal, red-and-golden attire. The chair he was sitting in merged into his body, becoming a golden, ornamented throne. And finally, the device around his head became a golden, conical-shaped object, perfectly suited for his new puppet, already fitting well in his hand.

- As I was saying... Rise, Echo Chamberlain, and correct the world, for only you know how. - I will! - the new villain spoke into his megaphone and flew out the library in his levitating chair, smashing the window to pieces.

========================

- Adrien!

Marinette jumped the last few stairs of her house and nearly tripped, but fortunately for her, she landed exactly where she wanted - in the arms of her boyfriend, meeting his lips a minute or so earlier than she planned. She smelled his trademark cologne, singed with his name, and she positively melted against his chest, blissfully forgetting about everything around her, until her mother's grunt brought her back to reality.

She jumped to her feet, fixed her hair and waved her parents goodbye, as the two walked outside for a stroll on the sunny day, with just a chance of studying in the park, in between kissing.

- How was the journey? - Marinette asked, eager to learn all about his latest business trip. - Well, nothing too out of the ordinary. I mean, for me. - he quickly added, afraid he sounded too immodest - I wish I could have brought you with me. - No biggie. I know how strict your father can be... - she leaned against his shoulder. - Hey, look, we should get some ice-cream!

Marinette eagerly pulled Adrien towards the famous André's ice-cream stand that now was parked underneath an old arch, and, predictably, has already amassed a small crowd, hungry for some cold refreshment. But as the two approached them, they heard an angry voice, dissonating with the rest.

- What do you mean you don't have chocolate chips? What kind of ice cream vendor are you? - a young woman was arguing with the poor ice-cream maker, who reacted to her anger with his usual jovial, kind behaviour. - Ah, but mademoiselle, I have other toppings, perfect for you! Brandied cherries! Candied walnuts! Peanut brittle! Or even... - he paused, before saying the next word with less enthusiasm in his voice - Sprinkles... - But I want my chocolate chips! - Excuse me. - Marinette gently addressed the angry woman - Don't you think you act a bit selfish? I'm certain André has been working so hard to bring us these phenomenal treats, it's not his fault he ran out of some of the ingredients... - Yeah - Adrien added quickly - And I think you will find some of these are as good as the one you crave, I can attest to that. - Plus, there are a lot of people waiting...

A shared murmur spread behind her, with people nodding, agreeing to Marinette and Adrien's polite reasoning. The woman sighed, and was about to accept the lesser version of her favourite dessert, but the next words she spoke left her mouth with a volume of hundreds of people.

- I WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

Adrien and Marinette instinctively put their hands over the ears, and as they watched in horror, they might have just saved their sanity. Thre eyes of the people surrounding them glew with red tint, and the same people that a moment ago scoffed at the picky woman, now shouted with her.

- WE WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

The two shared a concerned look, and they frantically looked around, knowing full-well it was a work of an akuma. Adrien spotted him first, a bizarre, red-and-gold man flying in his throne above their heads. They gave each other a nod and ran as far away from the crowd.

- André, run, it's an akuma! - Marinette cried, but it was too late.

The kind man now was roaring with them, demanding his own ice cream booth to give him chocolate chips, smashing it with his bare hands. Adrien and Marinette hid in an alleyway, and as soon as they could catch breath, their Kwami escaped their pockets, ready to transform them.

Two bright flashes of light later, Ladybug and Chat Noir escaped the same alleyway, following new source of cries and shouts. Ladybug shoot her yo-yo to climb onto the nearest rooftop, while Chat accompanied her onto his magical baton that propelled him into the air, so they could level with Hawkmoth's new puppet.

- You there! - Marinette shouted, gaining his attention - What are you doing to these innocent people? - And whatever it is, we are here to stop you!

The akumatised man laughed and rolled in the air in his throne.

- I am the Echo Chamberlain, and I have done nothing to them! I merely gave them the same voice I have. How dare these ice cream makers don't have the perfect ice-cream I want!

He grabbed his megaphone and spoke into it, emitting once more a deafening cry that reverberated amongst the buildings.

- People of Paris! Throw away your chains! Go to the barricades! And demand the ice-cream you want! Ha-ha-ha!

At once, the people beneath them, scared and cowering, stood up and rushed to the shops, big and small alike, chanting the same familiar phrase for their now-beloved condiment.

- You fool! - a sudden voice rang in Anton's head - I gave you the voice so you can get me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi! - Oh, right. - he took his megaphone again - But before that, get me Ladybug and Chat Noir! They took all the chocolate chips!

Echo Chamberlain flew onto his throne, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir with the horde of people, that now began surrounding them with his single command. The two thought that they were safe on the rooftop of the building, but the angry people began climbing each other, forming human ladders, and in matter of seconds, the two had to escape in the same way they got there to begin with.

- He's using some sort of mind control! - Ladybug spoke, when they landed on slightly taller building, though they've already heard the clatter of broken glass beneath them. - The akuma must be in his megaphone. - Chat added - Also, I never thought people like chocolate chips so much. - I don't think they do. I think he likes it, and so he makes other people like the same thing.

Ladybug took a cautious look down, spotting some people rushing away from the angry mob.

- And I think he needs to target like-minded people. Or at least those that share some form of opinion with him... - she pondered. - Great observation, but may I add one? Duck!

Chat Noir pressed Ladybug's head down as a carton full of ice-cream cones flew right through the space once occupied by her head. The two rushed to their feet again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, escaping the swarm of zombiefied people.

- Maybe there will be fewer of them here... - Chat spoke, but he was immediately proven wrong by a sudden voice behind him. - Oh, do you think ice-cream toppings is the only thing that makes people angry?

Echo Chamberlain arose from behind the building, already aiming his megaphone at the ventilation shaft.

- How about... Mobile chargers! Don't you hate how they always get lost and get tangled?

The powerful sound wave reverberated throughout the building, and the small rooftop door quaked when a small mob of residents rushed to the top, with said chargers in their hands, ready to strangle the two. Ladybug tried sniping a few of them with precise shots of her yo-yo, but the crowd was too dense.

- My lady!

Chat Noir grabbed her and propelled themselves off the building, landing in the vicinity of the same park they were meant to not-study in. But as they landed, they were already surrounded by more hypnotised civilians, this time complaining en-masse about mosquitoes.

- There's too many of them! - Ladybug shouted, jumping onto the nearby lamp post and then onto the tree. - I mean, they aren't exactly wrong, mosquitoes are horrible... - Chat! - Ladybug scolded him - That's the problem, he is making these people aware of all those small, insignificant problems of their lives. - But everyone has those!

Chat Noir's statement suddenly sounded ominously, as the sea of multicoloured people of every race, size and age surrounded them. Each person beneath them complained about something, creating a powerful choir of cacophony.

- We need... we need something to calm them down all at once...

Marinette looked around, and suddenly, as she spotted André's destroyed ice-cream stand, she saw the bell he would rang to alert Parisians of his presence, and a smile appeared on her face.

- I know what to do! - she cheered - Follow me!

The two escaped the tree just as if it was bout to be uprooted, and the two traversed the Paris to land on an even more familiar balcony.

- Don't peek, I'm gonna change my clothes. - she gave him a quick peck as she opened the hatch door to her apartment. - I'd never think of doing that. - Chat grinned, prepared his baton and jumped to the ground to defend the Dupain-Cheng bakery from the horde of people.

Once she was inside, Marinette quickly opened her supplies cabinet. Under the multitude of sewing accessories lied the hidden, oval-shaped red-and-black object that once looked like an ancient music box. The new guardian took it and gently tapped the black spots on the Miraculous Box, and under her touch, the small drawers began opening, one by one, like petals of a flower, revealing the multitude of Miraculi inside. Each of the intricate jewels glowed with a magical light of its own, as if to invite Marinette to try them, but she already knew which one to pick.

She took a small, circular Miraculous and spoke its Kwami name, illuminating her room with calming, white light, as the small, furry creature appeared in front of her.

- There's no time to explain, I need your help. Tikki, unify!

=====================

Meanwhile, Chat was getting more and more surrounded, forcing him to jump higher and higher, hoping the crowd would follow him and not Ladybug, trying his might to defend himself with his baton from the hypnotised masses, chanting their many inconsequential complaints that made them so strong.

- The prequels suck! - The sequels suck too! - Everything sucks!

As the mob was about to grab Chat, suddenly, he felt a familiar grip around his torso and his stomach did a somersault when he was dragged upwards, away from the crowd, as Ladybug reeled him on her yo-yo as if he was a fish.

- Thanks Ladybug, your timing is impecca-

Words got stuck in Adrien's mouth as he turned his head to meet his rescuer. At first, he wasn't sure it was Ladybug, but he recognised her yo-yo and her charming smile, though they were the only familiar element of her looks that remained. Only half of her original red could be found on her new costume, and the tidy, trademark polka-dots merged into black blots against white-brown rest of her costume. But it was the accessories she was wearing that truly befuddled Chat and forced him to pursue his curiosity, even if he was to be proverbially killed for it.

- My lady...! - Adrien stopped mid-way, taking another long look at Marinette - You... Your choice of fighting style is always impawssible to predict, but... Really, a cow? - What?

Marinette looked at herself, turning in place, as if to check if she's made a mistake choosing a Kwami to merge with, but once she ascertained herself, she shot him with a stern look.

- I'm not a cow. - she spoke quickly - The Kwami, whose powers I'm borrowing, is a yak! From Tibet! - Er, my lady - Chat raised his hands in defence, trying not to stare too long at the horns that adorned her head now - With all the respect, half of your costume is white with black spots, you have a ring in your nose, and you wear a cowbell around your neck... - IT'S NOT A COWBELL! - Marinette stomped in place - It's a Tibetan singing bowl, used for meditation. The Kwami told me so. - And what was its name?

With some hesitation, Marinette looked at Chat, whose lips curled into a sly smile, somehow foreseeing the answer and using every ounce of his intelligence to prepare a comeback.

- Lhamuu... - she whispered. - Lha...MOO - Chat articulated, his smug grin becoming unbearable to look at. - Oh, shut up! - Marinette yelled - We have an Akuma to defeat. - You're right, we should get mooving.

The superheroes nodded and jumped once more into the crowd of people under the super-villain's control, a plan already forming in their heads.

===========

- What's this?

In his observatory, Hawkmoth looked through his puppet's eyes at a sight he most certainly didn't expect.

- Ladybug... is a cow. - he muttered, unable to believe his borrowed sight. - Actually, it's a yak, you can tell by the horns, they are quite common in Asia and- - Never mind that! - Hawkmoth interrupted him - Ladybug has acquired a new power! That means she's wearing two Miraculi! Get them at once! - Is it "Miraculi" or "Miraculouses"? Or does this word even have plural form? - Anton pondered - I think there was a thread on Ladyblog about it, and- - THEY CAN BE CALLED "CROISSANTS" FOR WHAT I CARE, JUST GRAB THE JEWELS! - On it.

==========

Anton's throne flew closer to the two superheroes, who kept fighting the overwhelming crowd of people. Though banking on disappointment from recent block-busters wasn't unreasonable, he decided to play on even more delicate strings. He took his megaphone and spoke one word that electrified the masses and angered them all.

- Don't you just hate... CAPTCHA?... yes, it's because of Ladybug and Chat Noir you have to solve those stupid riddles, finding fire hydrants and whatnot! Destroy them!

At once, the mass of people acting, ironically, like radio-controlled robots, roared with pure hatred and began swarming towards them climbing onto balconies, just so they can get to them. Chat took a step backwards, knowing the crowd there was equally dense. But just as he was about to secure Ladybug, she did something utterly unpredictable.

With grace and skill only she possessed, SHE jumped off the rooftop, right into the horde of people, ready to tear her apart.

- My lady!

From the rooftop, Chat watched as Ladybug landed on the plaza, and let the crowd of people encircle and approach her from every side. And though he was afraid, he also had faith in her, strengthen only by her charming smile and a wink she sent him, while the shouting mob surrounded her.

- It's time to use... The Bell of Clarity!

Marinette touched the bowl affixed to her neck, enveloping herself in a delicate, yellow light, grabbed what looked like a ring in her nose and swiftly pulled it, revealing it to have two small balls on each side, and twirled around, ending with a stylish, victorious pose. With her new weapon in hands, she reached it, and gently stroke the bowl with the metallic ring, letting its vibration travel towards their target.

A powerful sound wave surrounded her, spreading in all directions, engulfing more and more of space, finally reaching the ears of the hypnotised people. When the note rang in their minds, they stopped, appearing confused and disoriented, as they suddenly lost the connection to their master's words.

- No, no, get them, you idiots! - Echo Chamberlain shouted through his megaphone.

Marinette stroke the bowl a second time, producing a more melodious tune. The crowd of like-minded zombies became even less coordinated, much to the supervillain's anger. And when she gently began moving the ornamented metal ring across the bowl's edge, instead of producing a single note, it began singing, its soothing melody finally dispelling the charm put on the people.

- No! You have to listen to me! I am right! - Anton took his megaphone and began speaking into it again - The games now suck! The-there are micro-transactions everywhere! The-the toilet paper! It's never turned the right way around! There is product placement in movies!

But no matter how many annoying details about life - or rather lack of it - he spoke of, the crowd remained calm and peaceful, unified with the sound of Ladybug's bell, that spread across the city each time she hit it.

And just when he was about to think of some new annoyance, something hit him from behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Chat Noir, wrestling with him, his baton already locking his arms from reaching his tool of control.

- It's time to dethrone your highness! Now, Ladybug!

At once, Ladybug shoot the yo-yo, grabbing the megaphone, while Chat and Echo Chamberlain wobbled in the air, each trying to overpower the other. But as soon as Ladybug got her hands onto his prized tool of control, it was over. She broke it in half, releasing the purple akuma, she then gracefully caught with the same yo-yo.

- By bye, little butterfly... - she spoke to the purified Akuma, watching it, as it flew away. - Miraculous Ladybug!

A storm of light, radiating from her engulfed the city, repairing the damages caused by the entitled mobs. As for the Echo Chamberlain, he found himself in his regular, not-levitating chair, and only thanks to Chat Noir's strength he didn't hit the ground.

- I believe it was yours. - Ladybug handed him the headset. - Y-yeah... - Anton stuttered. - Uh, Ladybug, I... - That's okay, Anton. - she spoke calmly - We all get upset sometimes, and we all think we have all the answers. - But maybe it's better to walk outside every once in a while, and, say, have some ice cream? Regardless of toppings? - Chat Noir added, giving him equally warm smile. - Y-yeah...

The two watched as the man waddled away, pondering what his behaviour has done. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other and bumped their fist with a cheerful "Pound it!".

- So, the Bell of Clarity, eh? - Chat Noir leaned against the wall, watching as his partner affixes her new accessory once more to her collar. - Jealous of my new toy, kitty? - Ladybug shot him with a mischievous grin - It has quite powerful properties, I should tell you about that some time, since I've been studying all the Kwamis and... - Nah, I was just pondering the name...

Marinette eyed him suspiciously, noticing the familiar smirk appearing on his face, about to turn into a full, unashamed grin, but when she did that, it was too late, as words already left his mouth.

- It's "Bell of Clarity"...or Clara-bell, if you will.

The Tibetan singing bowl made one last, long, pronounced note as Marinette struck Chat's head with it, putting an end to his jokes and another successful mission.

===========================

Another tune, this one of pure sorrow filled the air, as Hawkmoth roared in anger, his voice echoing in his evil lair atop the Agreste mansion.

- Preposterous! I have been defeated by a superheroine dressed like a cow! - I think she was a yak, Gabriel. - Nathalie added - SHE HAD A RING IN HER NOSE! - he yelled, slamming his fists against the floor, as he collapsed onto his knees - I HAVE A HEADACHE!

==================

Far away from Hawkmoth's prying eyes, as well as many security cameras they've learned to evade, two superheroes were celebrating another victory in a way that became almost a tradition for them. There was a time when Marinette would be utterly shocked at the mere thought of kissing in public, let alone exposing herself there, but the years of serving as a protector of Paris has changed her mind. At some point, she started treating entirety of Paris as her home, with every dark alleyway and rows of chimney that hid them from the rest of the world, and with that notion came the desire to express herself and her love in the open air. And it certainly helped that her boyfriend was a horny tomcat.

Though she would have preferred if Chat pushed her against her soft bed, she didn't mind the cold, sturdy surface of a building they were kissing against. With his relentless, but delicate caresses, there was no place on Earth where they wouldn't be feeling comfortable, and something told her she would be soon melting in his arms or underneath his body.

And Chat was especially meticulous today, as he wanted to make sure that he'd cover every millimetre of her new costume and find out if her new alter-ego changed something with her preferences regarding making love.

- Chat... - Marinette moaned and curled her toes, tightening her legs' grip around his body. - I've had you as a Ladybug...

Chat pressed her against the wall, his hand already on her crotch, and his fingers dug through the latex costume that parted underneath his gentle, yet steady caresses.

- ...then as a mouse...

She let out a short squeak, almost mimicking her timid, Multimouse persona, as he continued undressing her using his claws and teeth.

- Then as a Rena Rouge... do you remember that? - How-How could I forget? - Marinette gasped, her hands sliding up and down his slim, but muscular body - Especially since Alya was filming us...

Chat let out a deep purr of approval, letting his lips and tongue take action, as he leaned against the skin on her neck. And while he was busy peppering her skin with kisses, Marinette decided to continue diving into their memories, perhaps just so she won't have to moan in anticipation of her lover's next, carefully planned move.

- And-And do you remember when Mister Bug used Lady Noire's face? I've never thought he would be so rough... - Mhm, most certainly... - Chat purred, nibbling on her ear, both actions making Marinette's skin shiver - Turned out white goes very well with your the black mask... And, well, rest of the costume too... - Naughty kitten... - And now, I'm gonna be with you as a... - Chat paused, looking up at his lover - ...a yak. - It's fine, you can say I'm a cow. - Marinette rolled her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. - And how should I call you? - Figured you would kiss first and ask names second...

She spoke those words in somewhat croaky voice, after Chat's kiss successfully left her breathless. She tightened her grip on him and looked him in the eye, seeing the familiar, fiery spark of lust that could lead them on a predictable route.

- Yin Yak - she answered - That's the name of that-that superheroine... - Marinette paused, trying to silence herself from another surge of pleasure building up in her loins. - So, would you be Lady-yak? - Chat kissed her breasts through her costume, yearning to feel her costume splitting apart - Or Yin-bug? I have to say, I am purrplexed and confused...

Marinette cupped his face and brought his face millimetres away from hers, just so her next words could firmly root themselves into his mind.

- I will tell you how I want to be called. - she paused and without losing a bit answered - Yours.

With her words acting like a spell, Chat Noir smiled and in a single move tossed her into the air, and caught her with his arms again, letting her legs spread. And as he did so, a rip in her costume appeared, under Chat's most delicate of touches, as a final proof of Marinette's consent and her yearning for her lover. Marinette yelped when his fingers brushed the now-exposed skin underneath her partially-torn costume. In response, she yanked his bell and slid it down, finally laying her eyes on his naked, alluring body.

- It's so much easier for you... - Are you complaining about an incredibly minor inconvenience? - Chat paused - Be careful, or you're gonna get akumatised too...

They giggled and closed their eyes, preparing for a kiss, but as their lips were about to meet, Chat found that something began pushing them away. And when the two looked down, they couldn't help but gasp at the sudden development happening right in front of them.

- What the-?!

Both Adrien and Marinette stared at her chest, or more precisely, her breasts that sprung from beneath her costume, ripping it completely and showing properly how enlarged they've become. And neither of them could tell which one was more surprised of the sight that greeted them. Her usually perky, medium-sized breasts now felt like two balloons that became inflated the moment Chat parted the way of her costume, though despite their size they seemed to defy laws of physics, never truly succumbing to gravity. As if in disbelief, Chat gently cupped them, and only under his touch, Marinette could feel how much they have grown, and that they were in fact still parts of her caresses-starved body.

- They-they are huge! - Marinette gasped, stating the obvious. - Indeed they are... - Adrien licked his lips - I have to admit, I am enjoying your new superhero form more and more...

Marinette gasped when she felt Chat's breath around her nipple, even more sensitive than usual, as his lips closed around the nub, a lot bigger and more pronounced now. And while his tongue lapped around her areola, his left hand caressed her other breast, exploring the new, vast territory he was going to conquer.

As Marinette whimpered under Chat's caresses, he moved from left side of her enlarged bosom to the other, finally taking a dive between them, licking the alluring valley between the voluptuous,breasts on both sides of his face. He looked up, meeting Ladybug's widened eyes, seeing the mixture of pleasure and lingering shock in them. He gave her one final kiss, and asked sheepishly.

- My lady, I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? - Can you hear me complain? - Marinette smirked - I have no idea what happened, but keep your mouth busy, kitty.

She gently pushed his head back between her huge bosom that almost engulfed Chat's head. Suddenly, she felt his kisses everywhere across her sensitive skin, causing her to moan without any care. They were still hidden, at least partially, since she fully expected her breasts might now expand like a portable raft and take the entire space of the rooftop.

Of course, she knew why this happened. Though Chat was joking, her Kwami certainly had a few bovine traits, and her arousal must have accentuated those even more, just like Chat's claws could tear through her otherwise indestructible suit as if it was papier-mâché when his animalistic needs got over him.

As her kisses became more and more ravenous, her legs slowly gave up, and that gave Chat a chance to sneak his arms underneath her back and raise her leg up, just so his access to her dripping sex could be easier. With her left leg on his shoulder, his fingers continued the delicate dance against her pussy, while his tongue lapped at the skin around her nipples.

- Cha-Chat!

Marinette threw her head back, hoping her lover would bring her to her climax soon, and when Chat closed his lips around her nipple once more, just to contain his scream, she felt something new. An exhilarating, electrifying surge rushed through her, and at the same moment as Chat's eyes opened wide, while his fingering slowed down, though with his new discovery, she didn't exactly blame him.

Once he understood what was happening, Chat smiled and doubled his efforts, suckling on her teat, just so he could taste the delicious, sweet milk she began producing.

- My lady, you are... full of surprises... - he spoke, once he took a healthy gulp of her essence, watching as it dripped onto her large breasts.

To her bewilderment, when Chat brought his lips back to her nipple and continued suckling her milk, she felt the pleasure rising again, and with the newly found source of enjoyment, Marinette realised she couldn't think straight, especially when Chat resumed the moves of his hand again, spreading her folds.

But this time, as his muscular body came in contact with hers, it became obvious he was eager for more than simple finger play. He moved his hips in tune of her moans, sliding his exposed cock along her folds, eager to her her begging. And sure enough, once his name left her lips, he dived between her wet, soaking folds, just like his head dived into the valley of her breasts, equally leaking from anticipation.

Marinette let out another prolonged moan. Chat often made love to her this way, pressing her against walls, often just meters away from busy streets, but never before has her body changed. And now, to each of Chat's thrusts, her enlarged breasts reacted accordingly, bouncing up and down around Chat's face, though every once in a while her lover's thirst for her milk caused one of her mounds - or rather mountains - to remain in place, while he feasted on the liquid ambrosia she kept producing.

Adrien thought that he might have harder time keeping his lover up, and bouncing her with the extra baggage, but it turned out that the opposite was true. She felt lighter, giving him chance to exert a bit more pressure and dominance over his lover, much to her enjoyment. Ladybug dug her fingernails into Chat's shoulders, pushing him against the cushions of her bosom, letting his entire face stimulate her much larger and more sensitive area.

With each kiss Chat placed around her nipples came another deep thrust, reaching further and further into her yearning sex that coated his cock with her juices, only helping his cause of sliding as far as possible. And with that storm of sensation, it came as no surprise to Marinette that her mind slowly started going blank, and she began chanting Chat's name like a mantra, begging him to help her reach the peak he promised her, hearing only his grunts in return.

Their shared orgasm made their joined bodies shudder; at the same time, walls of Marinette's pussy contracted, desperate to contain Chat inside her, coating his crotch with more and more of her juices; then the torrential jets of his warm seed shot up her sex, right against her womb, filling her to the brim. And then, just when she thought she was finished, she felt a new form of warmth on her chest, when milk began spurted from her breasts, though the stream quickly found its way to Chat's mouth.

With each of Chat's final, weakening thrusts, the effects began anew, forcing her lover to switch suckling on her nipples, thirsty for her nectar, as if to use it to replenish his essence he kept flooding her with. But as their juices were leaking out, so was their strength, and even Chat's muscles had to give up at some point.

The two collapsed on the rooftop, still hidden by the shadows of the construction scaffolding, though at this point, Marinette truly didn't care if their love making has been heard, or observed by anyone; with her enormous breasts people might think it's some sort of stunt anyway. Her lips found Chat's and she tasted a new flavour, a sweet one that sent shivers down her spine, when she realised what it was, and she understood at once why Chat was so desperate to milk her.

The same flurry of kisses that drove her to her peak didn't stop, as Chat made sure to pepper her breasts with as many of those as possible, at the same time giving her ample time to recover from her equally explosive orgasm.

And as her mind, hazed by pleasure, slowly returned to reality, a new plan formed in her head, and with a quick, but difficult to pull off maneuver - a drawback of the new addition to her body - she rolled and pinned Chat to the ground, much to his surprise.

- My lady?

Chat's ears perked up when he saw her move along his naked body, leaving a trail of kisses as well as her milk along it. And when she reached her destination, she shot him with a mischievous, sly smirk that would have turn his legs to jelly if he wasn't downed already.

Her delicate fingers closed around his half-lips cock, bringing his sensitive tip to her mouth, and as her lips brushed his skin, it twitched satisfyingly in her hand, signalling he was ready again.

- You just lay there, kitty, and let me take care of you...

Marinette's soft, velvety voice, spiked with just a trace of lust worked its magic on Chat right away. Though Marinette might have been surprised by the sudden changes to her body, the superheroine adapted to them at once and decided to put them to good use. Her voluptuous, wobbly breasts engulfed Chat's hard cock, as Marinette proceeded to give her first tit-job of her life, given that now she had proper equipment for it.

As Chat got lost in her ample bosom, he threw his head back, filling the air around them with low purr of delight, followed by prolonged moan when Ladybug's mouth met with his cock's head upon her first bob. it was equally fascinating for Marinette to watch as Chat's length is enveloped by her breasts, and how she can now stimulate far more of him than when her mounds were small an perky.

She had to keep an eye on his legs that twitched with every few seconds in response to her caresses. Chat's claws closed around the nearest edges, after frantically trying to find one to push away his oncoming climax, and his slim, but muscular torso arched from time to time, in sync with Marinette pushing her massive breasts up and down.

To make things a bit varied, she slowed down her moves, replacing them with a bit of her tongue-work, much to Chat's delight. Marinette could distinguish her name being muttered by her lover, begging her to finish her love torture, but the superheroine had none of that. While she was certain Chat would love nothing more than jump to his knees and face-fuck her, she wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as she could, knowing full well of the building and boiling climax in his loins.

As her tongue ran around his head, Marinette had to steer away to taste her own body, still covered with traces of milk she was leaking, and when the same tongue returned to his tool, Chat moaned again, feeling the liquid she was mixing with his pre-cum, almost as if he could taste it again. Once more he was privileged to see how the once-shy superheroine pushed her limit of perversion with a kink neither of them expected to enjoy an hour earlier.

And it was that knowledge (combined with her dedication to bring Chat to climax, as she started bobbing her breasts up and down again), that drove Chat to his edge, turning his moans incomprehensible begging only Marinette could understand and reply to. She waited until Chat's eyes would meet her again, and spoke to him taking breaks from kissing his swollen tip ready to burst.

- You, kitty - she started - You like my milk... But I...

She pressed her hands against her breasts, wanting to completely envelop Chat's cock between her massive breasts.

- ...I prefer cream.

A loud, yet weak cry of defeat escaped Chat's lips at the same time as first rope of cum flew from his swollen tip, landing straight across Ladybug's face, forcing her to close her eyes momentarily, though she opened them a second later, just so she can marvel at Chat's virility.

Just as second rope of cum was about to decorate her face, Marinette opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, inviting Chat to change his aim, though with his cock still engulfed by her breasts, she was much in control of the trajectory, and with some difficulties, she has managed to fill her mouth with the thick, sticky seed, getting the first sniff of the pungent and aggressive, but alluring taste and smell of her lover.

Three more streams of his cum landed in Marinette's lips, before her treatment has emptied Chat's balls, and the heroine could swallow the veritable pool of Chat's cream sitting in her mouth. She did it without breaking the eye contact with him, making sure he'd hear the guttural, gulping noises as his essence travelled down her throat, his warmth, taste and smell lingering far longer thanks to its consistency. He must have been saving for days...

But that wasn't complete end of Chat's climax; long after he stopped supplying Marinette with his seed, he withdrew from between the heavenly trap of her breasts, and another strands of his seed adorned them, prompting Marinette to perform action she wasn't able before, due to how much bigger and more supple her breasts have become. She pushed her breasts just up enough so she can lick off each and every drop of cum Chat left, as if it was the most delicious meal she wouldn't let go to waste. And the sight of expression on Chat's face was a reward already, aside of the familiar, musky aftertaste that reminded Marinette who has just marked her as his. Not to mention that as she squeezed her breast, Chat's essence mixed with her milk, adding a new taste of sweetness to his salty one.

Marinette revelled in the overwhelming storm of tastes that filled her mouth, and that indulgence gave Chat opportunity to counter-attack. Though he was pressed to the ground by her body and her breasts that now were a significant part of it, the superhero easily rolled her to her back, his head already back between her mounds, licking the milk that has managed to leak during his climax.

- I'd say that's a tie, my lady. - Of course you'd say that. - Marinette chuckled - You just want to get comfy and drink milk, and I just happen to have what you need...

In response, Chat let out a soft purr, as he nuzzled himself into Marinette's breasts, never taking eyes from his lover. Marinette reached and toyed with his untidy golden hair, and her charming smile managed to lure him from between her breasts for another long-needed kiss.

And just when she thought she would be given some time to relax, Chat Noir yanked her legs upwards, pressing them against her body, trapping her enlarged breasts between them, squishing them even more, which made them appear even larger.

- Sorry, Ladybug, but you are just too appetising to not ravish...

Marinette yelped when Chat's hard cock entered her again, and she felt Chat's delicious weight on top of her. She knew her new form would drag a very primal string in his masculine mind, and she did not object when he jumped to his feet and pushed her into a mating press, ready to engage in deeply animalistic form of love making.

His hips worked twice as hard than previously, wanting to reach as far into her throbbing, needy sex as possible, and while he was leaning over her, he was given once more chance to taste her delicious milk, each time he plunged himself inside her.

Ladybug's legs dangled above their heads, in sync of his ravenous thrusts, and as Marinette met his eyes, she had no doubts what drove him into his frenzied state. She knew that her kwami chose to make her look like a perfect mating partner, and that Chat was making sure there was enough milk for his kittens...

Their frantic bucking lasted shorter than they expected, but the same, wild thought they shared pushed them over the edge at the same time. Chat grabbed her thick thighs, buried his face between her breasts that erupted with milk, and in turn flooded her once more with his virile seed, bringing their shared fantasy to completion.

Chat collapsed on top of her, landing his head across Laybug's vast breasts, once more basking in their sweet glory. When their lips met again, they could both taste it, and the two lovers fell into a tight embrace.

The two were blissfully unaware that in the mean time the sun has gone down, but that only meant there will be less light for onlookers to catch them.

=====================

Standing by the kitchen counter, Marinette concentrated on making another batch of freshly baked sweets, so then they can be ready in an hour or so when the bakery opens. It was the quiet before the storm, but Marinette enjoyed those early morning hours... especially when she had someone to help her.

Adrien sneaked up behind his girlfriend, peppering her exposed neck with kisses, while his hands gently travelled up and down her waist, though once he saw what she's been making this whole time, his caresses stopped,and he let out a satisfying purr. On the counter lay several, hemispherical pastries, glazed in white marzipan, each adorned with a candied cherry on top, and the longer Adrien stared at them, the more he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

- Well, our adventure has certainly given you some inspiration, Marinette. Your original design? - I wish. - Marinette snickered - Those are called Saint Agatha's breasts, it's an old, Italian treat.

She handed him one, watching as his fingers dance on the shiny surface.

- It does remind me of what happened yesterday, though... - Adrien smiled, before taking a bite of the sugary coating. - I might have double-glazed them just like you did me.

Marinette brought her finger to his mouth to collect a small crumble of marzipan stuck to his lips, and predictably, her boyfriend wasn't just ravenous for sweets, as he quickly licked her finger clean too.

- Adrien! - Marinette pulled back and rushed to the sink - Warn me next time... - Okay, here's a warning..

Adrien chuckled, closing his arms around her belly once more. He sneaked his mouth to her neck, while his arms separated, each travelling closely to one of her erogenous zones. His left hand dived underneath her apron and tried getting into her panties, while the right one caressed her perky breasts, and as soon as his fingers began toying around her nipples, Marinette addressed something that has been on her mind.

- You miss them, don't you? - You know that I love you exactly the way you are... - Adrien answered tactfully - Don't lie, kitty - Marinette interrupted him. - You are, alas, only a man, therefore, I know you liked when my rack was three times the size of my current one. - Fine, if you want to, then I will say it - he kissed her neck - But just because I had more of you to love. Is it okay if I admit that I do slightly miss them? - If you'll keep finishing inside me, like yesterday, then I can assure you, you'll get them back very soon...

Marinette yelped, when his hands travelled back to her hips and spun her around in place, but once she met his face, she closed her arms behind his neck without missing a beat, just in time for his comeback.

- Is that a warning, or an invitation?

Adrien raised his brow, watching as her face reddened.

- Tell you what, I'm gonna finish in five minutes, and we might find out. - If you'll wear this apron then I will finish in five minutes... - Adrien!

#miraculust #mlnsfw #ladynoir #adrinette #lemon #nautiscaraderfics

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skepticalcatfrog · 4 years

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Among The Stars Chapter 4

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Logicality, Prinxiety, and Demus

Word count: 3,068

Author's Notes: The last three chapters were mostly introductory, but in this one things are finally starting to come together!

Logan stared at the sky, dumbfounded. His last chance of escape was gone. Patton was gone. He had to do something, to figure out how to get off of this planet. He speed walked out of the parking lot, not wanting to run so he didn't draw too much attention to himself. He walked up to the first person he saw, a woman with purple crystals around her eyes.

"Excuse me, does this planet have any type of public interplanetary transportation?" He asked.

The woman glanced at him and walked away. He figured that there wouldn't be any point in following her, because if she didn't answer the first time then she wouldn't answer if he asked a second time. He approached a second person, a man whose eye color shifted through different shades of pastels and had round glasses resting on his nose. He kind of reminded Logan of Patton.

"Hello, I apologise for the interruption, but is there any public transportation on this planet?" He asked.

"You're Logan Watts, right?" The man asked. Logan nodded. "I'm sorry, but we're not supposed to talk to you."

"What? Why?" Logan furrowed his brow.

"None of us know, if I'm being honest with you." The man shrugged. "The president broadcasted a city-wide announcement a few minutes ago, he told us not to talk to you."

Logan let out a cry of frustration, which caused the other man's eyes to widen. "Of course! Of course this is his fault."

"O...kay?" The stranger raised one eyebrow. That also made Logan think of Patton, because the android would always make fun of him for his inability to raise only one eyebrow. "I have to leave, I'm really not supposed to be talking to you right now."

The man took a few steps backwards before turning around and speed-walking away. Logan couldn't blame him. He looked around at the surrounding buildings. A library, a supermarket, the presidential building, the arena… a mechanic. He sprinted down the street towards the shop. He burst through the front door to find the mechanic inside, with no other customers.

"Can you get me a ship?" Logan said, trying to catch his breath.

"Who's asking?" The mechanic crossed his arms. Apparently this guy didn't recognize him.

"Logan Watts." He answered. The mechanic started to say something, but Logan held up one finger to stop him. "I know what you're about to say. You aren't supposed to be talking to me. But I really need your help, and if you just give me a ship then I'll be out of your hair in five minutes. I promise that no one will ever find out."

"I don't sell ships, but chances are I can get you the parts to build one." The mechanic told him. "That is, if you have the money."

"I do, and I'll pay in full as soon as I get what I need." Logan shot back. He knew how to build a ship, he just needed supplies.

"I have a shipment of parts coming in next week. Think you can wait until then?" The mechanic asked.

"Alright." Logan nodded. The circuits on his face started glowing, and he made a digital note on the mechanic's computer. It was the code for his phone. "Contact me when it gets here."

He turned around and walked out the door. Everyone seemed to be ignoring him, which was actually very helpful. It would make it easier for him to keep a low profile that way. He went to a few stores to buy supplies, then to the edge of the city. He walked far enough away that he'd go unnoticed, but close enough that he could still see the city. Then he used his supplies to build a small shelter. That would probably last him a while.

Sure enough, a week later he got a notification on his phone. The message was an unknown number, saying that the parts for the ship had arrived. He went back into town and back to the shop. There were two large boxes next to the front desk that hadn't been there last time.

"Welcome back." The mechanic said. "Everything's here, and there's a blueprint in the box."

"Thank you." Logan nodded. "How much will it cost?"

"6,000." The mechanic answered. "Plus an extra 100 if you want something to carry the boxes with."

"Done." Logan's face began to glow again. A little machine on the desk beeped, and the parts had been paid for. He left with the boxes, which were sitting on a metal plate floating behind him. He brought them back to the shelter he'd built and got to work.

~2 months later~

Logan wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He stood up and looked at the ship. It wasn't anything special, but it was done. There wasn't even a second seat. Hopefully it would start. He opened the door on the side, sitting down and hanging his jacket on the back of the seat. Then he shut the door. He took out his phone and made it track his ship. Not the pod that had been stolen, but the main ship where his lab was. He balanced his phone on the steering mechanism. He pressed the button next to it, and he heard the engine start up. A rare smile crossed his face. The ship lifted off of the ground and he travelled out of the planet's atmosphere. Finally, he was on his way back home.

It didn't take long to get back to his ship, only as much time as it had taken to get to Xialea VII in the first place. He was lucky that his ship was stationary most of the time. He parked the new pod in the space where the old one had been previously. The second he was safely inside the ship, he practically tripped out of the pod and bolted to the stairs up to his lab. He fell into his desk chair in front of his computer and began typing frantically. He had given Patton a built-in tracking device a long time ago, if he could just get the signal then he'd be able to find him. And Logan knew how to get the signal in under a minute. A map appeared on a screen, with a tiny blue dot in the middle. That dot was Patton. Logan never knew why he decided to make it blue despite the fact that Patton was gold, it just felt like it should've been blue.

Based on the location displayed on the screen, Patton was currently located on Planet #739049287193. It didn't have a proper name because of the non-existent population. But now Patton was there, which meant that other people must've been there as well. However terrible the situation was, it was admittedly smart of Patton's captors to bring him to such an isolated planet. The trip would take two days, but he didn't have that kind of time. He would have to take the whole ship, that way he could travel using hyperspeed. Plus Patton would have a home to come back to right away. It was a flawless plan, in Logan's opinion. He transferred the data of Patton's location to the monitor in the pilot's bay.

Once he got there, he sat in the chair at the front of the room. He turned on Autopilot and typed his desired location into the search bar. He switched the ship into hyperspeed. The surrounding landscape became blurry as the ship began moving faster. Within minutes, everything returned to normal. He looked at the surface of the planet below him. It could only really be described as unpleasant. A shroud of gray storm clouds covered the sky above him. The ground below appeared to be solid rock, stalagmites rising from the ground. Some of them were taller than others, some even looking like mountains.

Logan opened up a screen that would give him a closer view of the ground. It was the same all around, and it was so boring that if he wasn't doing something important then he might've fallen asleep. It took a while to find anything. And when he finally saw something, it wasn't what he expected. Near the base of one of the taller stalagmites, he saw what looked like a person cleaning a motorcycle. He stopped the ship, and the person looked up at him with wide eyes. Apparently a giant ship being parked above you is easy to notice. He opened the trapdoor that was behind his chair and climbed on to a ladder as it was being lowered to the ground.

When his feet touched the ground, he started walking. The stranger in front of him stood up from where they'd been kneeling next to the motorcycle. Upon closer examination, Logan noticed that this person had scales. But only on half of their face. Logan approached them and held out his hand.

"Hello. My name is Logan Watts. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?" He requested, waiting for a handshake and an introduction.

"Dalton Sanders. Sure, shoot." The stranger answered. Logan quickly drew back his hand. He was talking to Dalton Sanders, the infamous thief. He narrowed his eyes.

"Have you seen an android around here recently?" Logan asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Took you long enough." Dalton snickered. Logan tensed up at the sight of his fangs. "Come inside, he hasn't stopped talking about you for two months."

"Are you serious? No protest or anything?" Logan raised his eyebrows. That only made Dalton laugh even more. Logan was already starting to get tired of this guy.

"Not at all. We'll give him back, we just needed you for something. He was actually really nice to have around, he's good company." Dalton turned around and started walking away. Logan followed him through a door that he hadn't noticed before, into a large cavern.

"Logan!" He heard Patton's voice from the back of the room and saw him jump up. The android ran towards him and tackled him in a hug, holding on tight. Logan was surprised at first, but soon settled into it. "I missed you."

"I can tell." Logan said, a hint of happiness in his voice. "I came to bring you back."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Patton pulled back with a smile, which quickly shifted into a frown. "But… there's just one thing I need to talk to you about. I-"

"Hey, hi, I'm Remus. Sorry for the interruption, but I have a question for you Mr. Scientist." A new person said, his tone revealing that he wasn't actually sorry. "Why do you not have an accent, but the android that you build does?"

"What? He doesn't have an accent, I would know, I programmed him that way." Logan frowned.

"Okay here, we just listened to you talking, now listen to him talking." Remus gestured to Patton.

"I don't have an accent. At least, I didn't think I did." Patton said. Turns out Remus was right, Patton had a very light Southern accent.

"How is that possible?" Logan muttered, talking to himself. "He developed feelings a long time ago, but I never expected this many changes to his programming…"

"I'm sure it's not that big a deal, Logan. Everything that's happened so far is minor." Patton reminded him.

"I suppose you're correct." Logan nodded. "There isn't a point in dwelling on minor issues."

"Speaking of issues, can we go back to what I was talking about before? Even though this is kind of a big issue." Patton requested.

"Of course, what is it?" Logan regained his focus.

"So, you know how a while ago I was talking about wishing I could meet another android? Well, it happened. But he really needs our help." Patton told him.

He brought Logan further into the cavern, stopping in front of someone sitting in a desk chair. Logan could tell immediately that he was looking at an android. A very damaged one, from the looks of it.

"Can he speak?" Logan asked. The android's eyes began to glow purple. Patton pointed to the computer.

"No I can't. But I can do this if you want." Words appeared on the screen.

"He can connect to the computer." Patton explained quickly. Logan nodded.

"Alright. Firstly, what is your name?" He asked.

"I don't have one. They call me Anxiety, but I have a number too." Anxiety told him.

"And what is that number? It could be a code for something." Logan looked at the computer screen as numbers started appearing.

"229187912."

"Okay." You could tell Logan was concentrating. "If you split that up into sections, it could be letters. 22-9-18-7-9-12. If this is intentional then those numbers could turn into a name. The 22nd letter in the alphabet is… V. 9 is I, and that appears twice. 18 is R. 7 is G. 12 is L. So when you put those together in order, it becomes V-I-R-G-I-L. Virgil."

"Virgil." Anxiety smiled widely. He'd never had a real name, only ever his nickname.

"Do you want us to call you that now?" Dalton asked.

"Definitely." Anxiety (or Virgil, rather) smiled even wider. Dalton's heart soared seeing him so happy.

"Now, on to the next order of business." Logan brought them back to the current task. "What specifically is wrong with you?"

"I can't talk, or move. I have a glitch in my programming, but I don't think that's fixable." Virgil told him. "Basically, what I was built to do is predict outcomes. But the glitch makes it so that I can only see the bad ones."

"And how long have you had that glitch?"

"I've always had it. That's why I was a prototype."

"So, can you fix him?" Remus asked, a hint of hope appearing in his voice. Logan realized that all eyes were on him.

"Yes, yes I can." Logan sighed. "Patton, the ship is outside. Can you bring them to my lab, and make sure they don't cause any trouble?"

Patton nodded. "Come on, guys. We can take the motorcycle up to the ship, that'll make it easier."

As they left the cavern, Logan couldn't help but wonder why Patton was being so nice to them. They were criminals, not to mention the fact that they'd literally kidnapped him. It was just like Patton to remain optimistic in the face of danger.

Once everyone else had gotten to the ship, Logan took out his phone. He'd gotten to Patton, but he still had one more thing to find. The stolen escape pod. When he got the tracking signal, he couldn't believe what he saw. For one thing, the escape pod was on the very same planet. But the dot that showed its location was jumping around the screen. It didn't seem to be going in any sort of pattern, but it would occasionally come back to the same spot. Logan decided that must've been where it was. It wasn't even that far away, only a couple of minutes of walking. Once he got to the ship, he saw it right away. That was one thing he expected. One thing he didn't expect was to have a sword pointed at him right away.

"Who are you and why are you here?" The stranger asked. Based on his appearance, he was from Xialea VII.

"My name is Logan Watts. I believe you stole my ship." Logan answered. The stranger's eyes widened, and he lowered his sword.

"I did, and I'm really sorry about that, but I promise I had a good reason." The stranger explained.

"And what exactly is that reason?" Logan said skeptically.

"I… needed it." The Xialean said. Logan rolled his eyes. "It's true! It was a matter of life and death. You see, I'm… a prince! And I really needed to leave the planet, because I didn't like it there at all."

"But you're Xialean. They don't have royalty, they have a president."

"But you see, that's the thing. I'm not from Xialea VII, I'm from Xialea VI." He lied, hoping Logan wouldn't catch on. "That was the original kingdom, then some of the citizens broke away and made the city that became famous. I recently took a trip there, but apparently they still have some sort of grudge against us. I'm Roman Northbrook."

Roman was telling so many lies, and he knew it. But it wasn't like he was ever going to see this guy again. This was his chance to be who he'd always wanted to be, even just for a few minutes. At least he'd told the truth about his name.

Logan didn't acknowledge the introduction, simply moving on to examine the escape pod. It was completely broken, and had clearly been crashed. No wonder the tracking device hadn't been working.

"Okay, you know what?" Logan turned back around to face Roman. "Come to my ship with me. I'll bring you home, and you clearly need supervision anyway."

"Please don't take me home! I can't go back, they'd probably kill me for running away in the first place." Roman told him. At least that last part was true. "I can be useful, I'll be like a security guard or something!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Logan began walking back towards the main ship. Roman followed him, not really knowing what else to do. The moment they got back to the ship, everyone was staring at them.

"Who's the new guy?" Dalton raised his eyebrow, pointing to Roman.

"This is Roman Northbrook, he is the person who stole my ship. He'll be staying here for a while." Logan explained. Roman waved awkwardly.

"Cool." Remus smiled. "Don't worry, some of us steal things too."

Virgil didn't have a computer to connect to, but he would've been to busy staring to say anything anyway. It was quite possible that this was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. He looked away quickly. If androids could blush, he'd be as red as the streaks in Roman's hair.

Logan looked around at the group in front of him. He'd come to this planet expecting to get Patton and be on his way. Instead he'd gotten Patton, two thieves, a broken android, and a runaway prince. What was he getting himself into.

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @logan-is-my-spirit-animal

39 notes · View notes

uiux-design · 4 years

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15+ Figma Plugins to Help You Design Better

Figma, the second most-used tool for designing user interfaces (and the first most-used tool when counting only Windows OS), has really taken the digital design industry by storm lately, with even Adobe XD shipping their own version of Figma’s multiplayer feature (naming it “coediting”).

However, the hot topic at Figma right now is the release of plugins — extensions that Figma users can install on Figma to allow for extra functionality or to improve their design workflow.

Let’s take a look at some of the best Figma plugins so far.

1. Arrow Auto (create user flows)

Arrow Auto adds flowchart functionality to Figma, which is useful for creating user flow maps. Select any two objects on the canvas and Arrow Auto will enable you to draw a connector between them. You can also hide and show the flows on demand.

Autoflow is a decent (and maybe nicer looking) alternative, but Arrow Auto has more features, including the ability to switch connector directions and also move connected objects around while keeping connectors intact.

2. Angle (utilize device mockups)

Angle allows you to display your screens (i.e. artboards) from within a number of realistic or matte-effect device frames that each come with a variety of angle options and shadow styles.

Impressively, they’re 100% vector as well.

Artboard Studio isn’t quite the same thing, as it allows for inserting a whole bunch of random 3D objects onto the canvas (like a kiwi, for example). If you only care about device mockups, I’d install Angle. Vectory 3D is similar to Artboard Studio, but it outputs actual 3D assets.

3. Master (manage components more easily)

Master offers a better way to manage components, such as the ability to turn multiple identical objects into a component, duplicate components into other Figma files, and much more.

4. Clean Document (auto-clean documents)

Clean Document, well … cleans your document! It deletes hidden layers, sorts them intelligently, renames them according to your liking, ungroups single-layer groups, and even rounds dimensions to the nearest pixel. A terrific tool for obsessive neat freaks!

5. Similayer (select similar layers)

Quite simply, Similayer allows you to select layers based on their similarity to the layer that’s currently selected. Let’s say that you wanted to change a shadow style that’s being used on a number of different elements: Similayer could do that.

You could also use it to batch-reassign multiple components.

6. Viewports (change the viewport)

Find out the correct market share of all viewport dimensions, then apply them to frames. It’s insane how useful this is!

Viewport data is live-sourced from StatCounter.

7. Todo (create todo lists)

There are dozens of terrific todo lists, but this one exists within Figma. It’s not designed to replace your everyday todo list, but it’s a more convenient way of keeping track of your design-specific todos without needing to leave Figma. Have a list of changes to make? Need to establish priorities?

If so, install Todo.

8. Font Scale (establish a font scale)

Establish a visually consistent/hierarchical font scale by choosing a base size and scale factor, then save the results to your document for continuous reference (as either em or px).

9. Content Reel (insert better-than-lorem-ipsum content)

Content Reel inserts “real” content into your design. Need a quick address? Or an avatar? For some reason can’t think of a single name when you need one? Content Reel has your back.

Designing with real data ensures that the design doesn’t look odd once developed, and also helps us to design for edge cases.

10. Google Sheets Sync (sync data from Google Sheets)

Whether your app has an API or you just want to create a table of data manually, Google Sheets Sync will basically allow you to sync this data directly into Figma. It’s like Content Reel, but instead you define the data yourself. It’s useful for designers that want to build ultra-realistic mockups with data from their actual niche (or live application), and it’s especially useful for teams that want to design using the same library of data.

11. Chart (create “real data” charts)

Create stunning, customizable charts with data from Excel, Numbers, Google Sheets, or simply import a local CSV or JSON file. Datavizer is suitable alternative, but Chart can also sync with live JSON (i.e. you can connect Chart to a REST API).

12. Iconify (utilize icon fonts)

All icon fonts, right inside Figma. Material Design Icons, FontAwesome, Jam Icons, EmojiOne, Twitter Emoji — you name it.

Pretty iconic, really.

13. Figmotion (create animations)

If the thought of exploring animation scares you, or you dread switching tools to access advanced animation features, Figmotion makes animation a lot less anxiety-inducing. The animations are also easy to hand off, since they’re based on web technologies.

14. Split Shape (make columns … and stuff)

An interesting method of creating columns, Split Shape splits, say, a rectangle into multiple rectangles from which you can then create columns (or rows, or whatever). Split Shape can be used for various things if one thinks outside the box! 😁

15. Remove BG (create transparent bitmaps)

Remove BG is a web tool that removes the background of bitmap images, effectively turning them into transparent PNGs. Remove BG for Figma essentially does the same thing, but within Figma.

If you’ve been hoarding Adobe Photoshop only so that you can remove backgrounds, you can now delete it and probably free up approximately 80 thousand million GBs of space on your SSD 😌.

Popular Figma Plugins

There are a few Figma Plugins that I didn’t mention because they’re already super well-known to users of other UI design tools such as Sketch. You probably have these ones already:

Confetti (create dispersions)

Unsplash (insert stock images)

Rename It (rename layers more efficiently)

Humaaans (insert mix-n-match illustrations)

Stark or A11y – Color Contrast Checker (measure color contrast)

Bonus Figma Plugins

These Figma Plugins are awesome, but you might not need them often (if at all). It’s nice to know they’re there, though.

Arc (arch text)

Roto (rotate-extrude shapes)

Table Generator (create tables)

To Path (create text on a path)

Brandfetch (source brand assets)

Isometric (make objects isometric)

Mapsicle or Map Maker (create maps)

Skew (create simple isometric mockups)

Image Tracer (convert bitmaps to vectors)

Shadow Picker (intelligently create shadows)

Metaball/Blobs/Waves (create abstract shapes)

And finally, all Figma Plugins (in case you just can’t get enough of ’em! 😉).

Keen to learn the ins and outs of developing your own plugins, either to improve your workflow or the workflow of others? Check out Figma’s Plugin Docs.

#design #UI design #figma #figmadesign #figma plugins

14 notes · View notes

imetacognition · 4 years

Text

In the In-Between

Genevieve Renshaw had her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket and the fists were clearly outlined within, but she stood in front of the door calmly as she waited for Mr. Davidson to open up. The gates were massive and metallic. The president referred the place as a house. The populace undoubtedly would call it a palace. To Renshaw’s straightforward eyes, it uncommonly looked like a fortress. It was built on an eminence that overlooked the city. Its walls were thick and reinforced. Its approaches were covered with surveillance cameras and guards. A swift beep resounded as the gates opened slowly.

A crackling voice could be heard through a speaker.

“Mrs. Renshaw, please come in”, it said. The voice was urgent. She stepped into a small, delicate room with minimal decorations. To her surprise, it was cold. She looked around. The lights were strongly dimmed and she couldn’t make out whether the room even had any windows in it. The room was longitudinal and a unidimensional tube of light that guided the path to a single door. Either way, it didn’t seem to be very welcoming for an entrance hall. Faint steps came to her direction and became louder the closer they got. Milton Davidson approached her with a soft smile on his face.

“Mrs. Renshaw, glad to see you. Your report, of course, arrived before you did and I was just studying it.” His handshake was firm and strong. There was no room for further elation in him. “There’s a problem with the computer.”, said Renshaw.

“So it seems”, he said and scratched his head. “But we still couldn’t quite figure out why.” He was one of the best programmers in the world. He studied programming at the University of Moscow and had been researching new advanced computers with positronic brains for 10 years. He was the owner of the palace and responsible for the computer. “To begin with, no human mind has created those equations directly. We have merely spent decades programming more powerful computers and they have devised and stored the equations, but, of course, we don’t know if they are valid and have meaning. Or what they mean exactly. It depends entirely on how valid and meaningful the programming is in the first place.” He looked at Renshaw as they walked through the corridor. “That’s why I had to call you. You’re the only one that can solve it.”

Davidson held his key against a black screen and the door slid open. “After you.”

They entered a large room that was flooded with a warm light. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, each section arranged in alphabetical order. There was a clean, beautiful chessboard floor and about fifty shelves fanning out from the centre. Six or seven people were busy dusting off the books. It seemed that they haven’t been used in a while.

“A library- how old fashioned”, remarked Renshaw.

“The data-centre is malfunctioning, so we’re trying to solve the problem in a, well, outmoded way”, said Davidson hastily. “I have every confidence”, he said stolidly, “that you already have some ideas as what procedure ought to be followed.”

“I’m not sure”, she said. “I have to see the computer up close. I have studied robotics. That’s not the same thing. I’ve had access merely to text material dealing with Russian robotics. Your material is well in advance of anything else.”

Davidson turned his face towards Renshaw and smirked.

“It is indeed, and we’re proud of it. We put all our research in the past decades into AI. For the last twenty years or so, AI has been focused on the problems surrounding the construction of intelligent agents, systems that perceive and act in a particular environment. In this context, intelligence is related to statistical and economic notions of rationality – that is, colloquially, the ability to make good decisions, plans or interferences. As a result of this recent work, there has been a large degree of integration and cross fertilisation among AI, machine-learning, statistics, control theory, neuroscience and other fields. The establishment of shared theoretical frameworks, combined with the availability of data and processing power, has yielded remarkable successes in various component tasks, such as speech recognition, image classification, autonomous vehicles, machine translation, legged locomotion and question-answering systems.”

Renshaw took a last glance at the shelves as they walked past the last dusty book. They now stood in front of a large double-sided door that opened with a fizz. Behind that door, there was a large enigmatic room with shiny black tiles. Floor and walls were covered in it. The whole ceiling was illuminated with a frail, blueish light. A rather substantial cube resided in the centre. The dark room was like a place out of time, a place to rest without consequence. The darkness in that way was almost like a sanctuary, a place to recharge and forget the things the world said had to be done. There was something in there that was like a promise, like the world before dawn. With each movement they made, their reflection melted with the tiles and it almost took on their form, waiting for making it real. They were standing in front of the computer. The brain that controlled the whole city and its infrastructure.

Davidson guided her towards the main panel and noticed her amazed look on her face. “I know that the world was afraid of AI and how it would evolve, that’s why they stopped researching it- even forbid doing it. But how we connect with the digital world is key to the progress we’ll make in the future.”

Renshaw looked back at Davidson.

“As long as it’s controllable, as a tool”, she said, “it’s authorized for usage. We’re allowed to use AI as a toolkit, AI can augment our existing intelligence to open up advances in every area of science and society- however- it will also bring danger. While primitive forms of artificial intelligence developed so far have been proved very useful, I fear the consequences of creating something that can match or surpass humans.” Renshaw tapped her fingers on the screen anxiously. Davidson looked at her.

“You already surpassed humanity, that’s why you’re here. He took her by the arm and inspected her metal-like skin on it. “You are the result on what the rest of the world has been trying to do. To enhance human cognition through positronic augmentations. You’re the first one of your kind. And you did this because you were afraid that AI, made purely out of equations, will surpass you.” He let go of Renshaw’s arm.

“What you’re doing here is forbidden”, she murmured.

“In here- it isn’t”, he said. “Now let’s take a look at the equations, you and your augmentations are the only one that might understand what’s going on.”

She did not have to go very far in her testing before she called very peremptorily for a transcript of the computer-drawn plans of the positronic brain-paths and the taped instructions that had directed them. Her iron-gray hair was drawn severely back; her cold face, with its strong vertical lines marked off by the horizontal gash of the pale, thin-lipped mouth, turned intensely upon Davidson.

“What is it, Renshaw?”, he asked.

“It makes no sense. The computer checked out negative for all attempts at flaw-finding. Many of the higher functions have been cancelled out by these meaningless directions that the result is very like a human baby.” Davidson looked surprised, and Mrs. Renshaw took on a frozen attitude at once.

“But the heat got turned down, the automatic water system and the infrastructure was paralyzed. It has to be malfunctioning!” Davidson exhaled sharply.

“I am not.” Simple letters appeared on the screen.

The two glared at the screen. Davidson relaxed his tense pose and took a step back from the screen. He exhaled calmly.

“I believe I know what’s happening”, he said. “We wanted to make the computer self-sustaining by feeding it all of humanities data. And it overloaded and stopped working. But now, through your interference, well, it gathered all the rest of the data it needed”, he explained. “It is not only a question-answering machine now. It can do anything.”

“This is wrong.” Renshaw turned around. “We’re supposed to work with technology, go along with it. Use it as a tool. Not let it come that far, let it work for us, not replace us. Machines aren’t human. Will their emotions supposing they have some be mappable, in any sense, onto ours?”

“Programs or machines will acquire emotions in the same way as us humans: as by-products of their structure, of the way in which they are organized not by direct programming“, said Davidson as he glanced upon the ceiling.

“It’s still not the same. It’s not natural. Not human”, Renshaw uttered. “What about a sense of beauty? What about Music? Music is a language of emotions, and until programs have emotions as complex as ours, there is no way a program will write anything beautiful. Not until a machine can write a sonnet or compose a concerto because of thoughts and emotions felt, and not by the chance fall of symbols, could we agree that machine equals brainy that is, not only write it but know that it had written it.”

Renshaw stood before Davidson and crossed her arms. He shook his head.

“A piece of music can have great emotional meaning despite being made of tiny atoms of sound that have no emotional meaning“, he said promptly. ”But a machine is a machine. It doesn’t have to be human. And that’s okay. So who cares about music. We are humans, and we are constantly surpassing our previous ancestors. I think there is no significant difference between how the brain of an earthworm works and how a computer computes. I also believe that evolution implies there can be no qualitative difference between the brain of an earthworm and that of a human. It therefore follows that computers can, in principle, emulate human intelligence, or even better. it” He looked at the grand cube. ”It’s clearly possible for something to acquire higher intelligence than its ancestors: we evolved to be smarter than our ape-like ancestors, and Einstein was smarter than his parents.”

“Intelligence is central to what it means to be human. Everything that civilisation has to offer is a product of human intelligence”, Renshaw countered.

“Emotionally however”, Davidson added to her remark, “we are still apes, with all the behavioural baggage that the issue brings.” He turned his back to her and started walking towards a door in the corner that Renshaw hadn’t noticed. “Come Renshaw, let’s go to the garden, the water is working fine again.”

The glaring light of the garden almost blinded Renshaw’s eyes. The bonsai trees lined the perfect lawn in their wooden boxes. In the centre there was a large pond with flowering lily pads and a wooden bridge that crossed the middle so one could look down at the koi carps. The flower beds were a riot of May colour and even on close inspection they were weed-free.

“Our unique computer; it was suggested that this would result in a collective intelligence that will be enormously more powerful than all present human intelligence combined.” Davidson gazed at the waterfall pouring down the ceiling into the pond.

“I still think we should shut it down. It can be dangerous”, Renshaw said worryingly.

“When we invented fire, we messed up repeatedly, then invented the fire extinguisher. Don’t worry, we’re making sure that wisdom wins.”

“But what if you’re wrong this time?”, she asked again. Davidson sighed.

“Why don’t you ask our new question-answering machine?”, he proposed. “Let’s go back and use it as a tool to our advantage, just like you always wanted to.”

They walked back into the elegant dark room. Davidson patted her on the shoulder. “Alright, here you go, ask away.”

Renshaw shook her head but then took a deep breath.

“What’s the meaning of life?”

A text appeared on the screen again.

“It struck me as an empty and meaningless existence, and that is exactly what it was.“

“This doesn’t make any sense”, said Renshaw. ”However, it is very pessimistic, almost worrying.”

Davidson’s face had a thoughtful expression. He walked to the machine and started checking whether it was actually working properly. “You’re going straight for the big questions, but okay. Why are you so worried about artificial intelligence? Surely we can always pull the plug”, he laughed. ”Ask again.”

“Is there a God?”, she asked.

“There is now”, the computer said and fused the plug.

1 note · View note

soveryanon · 5 years

Text

Reviewing time for MAG144!

- I’m… really fond of the statement’s atmosphere, and Martin’s reading of it: he did emphasise a few words right at the beginning, giving them more heaviness, bloating them and completely installing the crushing dragging feeling of decay/dullness/spleen/boredom and degradation.

(And then: nervous laughter about the fact that OOOOOOOOOOOOOPS, the statement itself might have reminded Martin of some elements of his own personal life, uh. Caring for a sick (unsupportive) parent, getting stuck in a situation with them but worrying anyway (+ Gary Boylan feared that he would become his father and… well, We Know That Martin Looks Like His Dad), until the parent died on them while they were getting involved with Spooks.)

- So. There was a big emphasis, in the statement, about the code itself, and the fact that what lay behind was the actually horrifying things… but there was still a “message” and things actually struck when Gary Boyle understood it.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “I didn’t return to the pylon for a long time, except to confirm that the numbers weren’t changing between days. I had them though, and the numbers were all that mattered. I didn’t know why. I’m sure there wasn’t a reason, not really, but… I knew it was in there…! Realistically, it would be impossible to decode it without whatever key the cipher might have been using – and honestly, for the longest time, it seemed to be. I did as much reading as I could on cryptography, and codebreaking, and all of it seemed to point me towards one simple conclusion: breaking this code by myself was… simply impossible. But I still tried. I spent weeks in my room, desperately applying every method I had available. Nothing worked. But I didn’t stop. The alternative was looking after my dad, whose recent breathing issues had left him more ratty than ever. So, I worked myself into exhaustion instead, staring at those meaningless strings of numbers until I almost collapsed, and my eyes couldn’t focus on anything. And that was when I realised: it wasn’t the numbers. It wasn’t the code. It’s what was behind the numbers, shifting, and waiting, and–and coming towards me like a tidal wave – and I knew what the message was, the urgent and terrible message. About the destruction that was coming on the heels of mankind; about the cold and cruel warmongers who play their games of code, and conspiracy, hidden behind the endless streams of numbers. And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them. And I read them. I read them all, and saw the doom of everyone who lives, and breathes, and hopes for life and happiness. There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted. You can see them in the numbers. If you’d only learn how to read them.”

I wonder: did Gary himself power The Extinction (or whatever it is) with his own fears? Because it’s when he understood that a disaster was meant to happen that it… happened. If he had just carried on with his life, would it have happened? Or was everything set into motion because he heard the words and spiralled into dread/doom?

Because… if the code was, in the end, relevant and important… I’m kind of super-glad that MARTIN read this statement; and there is someone who should probably not read it ever. Because, who is canonically good at breaking down codes (probably through insta-translating Beholding abilities)…?

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook; we found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… [SIGH] saving the world at the cost of two lives… It… it’s borderline incomprehensible, not because of any code or cypher – there’s every chance I could read those; just simply because… most of it is… numbers or fragments of sentences that would no doubt mean something to her, but… well, not to me.

… Like, OOPS. I’m not sure it was a coincidence.

(…………. And if Martin read the numbers himself… will he be okay. Or is he unleashing… something, without being aware of it, too.)

- Aaaand we live in such a fandom that someone had already managed to decode the thing in half a day! The numbers:

593756 3058392846 4749 162830165049 564846474827

Actually formed the message “The World Is Always Ending”. Indeed less… personal than The End, here. (But the message itself is kind of… comforting? I mean, it’s like life overall: you know something is living because it’s heading towards its death. Of course the World/the Earth isn’t supposed to be permanent…? Or is it linked to the consciousness that we’re accelerating its decay, or that it absolutely disappearing would mean making things disappear as concepts, too – nobody, nothing, to remember anything, that anyone ever existed in the first place…?)

(- Amusingly, I did think of Beholding with Gary’s whole… stance:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There was nothing to be done, nowhere to go – just watch, and wait, and think about the decay of it all.

And the fact that his main activity was to listen to the numbers. He kind of checked all three points of the Institute’s motto?

And why did he give his statement? It’s not always the case but, pretty often, statement-givers do explain why they wanted to share their stories – because they were seeking help, or pursued, or feared that they were suffering from hallucinations, etc. Here, it was as a… non-personal warning? But he spread the numbers and that doesn’t sound very good…)

- Gary did warn about the Danger of knowing (because it doesn’t help) but. But Beholding’s shtick is apparently also to cannibalise other Fears a bit by Knowing about them:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted.”

(MAG032, Jane Prentiss) “There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why The Hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note its every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.”

Is that why Peter needed a Beholding-touched person? Because Beholding could understand the new fear and depower it a bit…?

- I did my usual relisten of “Binary”, since we got new information about The Extinction, and I’m still at a loss for that one and not… really feeling that it fits The Extinction? It feels more personal, more… people-oriented than concerning a community/the world? Or was the “message” of that one in the symbols appearing on Tessa’s computer and/or about the danger of Sergei’s fate possibly happening to others…? In Jon’s dreams, she’s seen typing furiously, trying to “fight” against the computer:

(MAG120) ELIAS: The Archivist waits, expecting to awaken, but there is nowhere for him to awaken to; no avenue of escape from these dreams. He turns to see the familiar screen, the familiar woman beneath it. She looks up at him with an expression of recognition and weary dread. She types, and types, and types her fingers a blur, flying across the keyboard, and yet never fast enough to outrun the relentless words that flow like dark water across the screen that stretches off into the sky. “It hurts.” She is shaking her head, defiant in her well-worn terror, and tries with every corner of her will to force back the rolling tide of words. “It hurts.”

Tessa’s reasoning about how a human brain isn’t made to fit in a computer, and that analog and digital operate differently, could fit The Extinction… but not the spooks she experienced herself, I feel? Was that just plain old regular Spiral, or something Web/Beholding, or The End? Or was it truly Extinction/the same larger fear that encompasses it?

- If we take “Binary” into account, there has been an acceleration of the manifestation of the Extinction through time:

* End of 1867: Garland Hillier disappears after a last publication, “Les Héritiers”, the same year Robert Smirke died (MAG134). [* 1983: According to the urban legend, Sergei Ushanka, who was dying, tried to upload his mind into a computer (MAG065).] * Some time before late 2005 (which is when Adelard Dekker heard about her): Bernadette Delcour entered Garland Hillier’s flat and witnessed the world of the Inheritors before managing to get out – Adelard suspects that she might have disappeared too, by January 2006 (MAG134). * In August 2009: Gary Boylan heard the “Numbers” track near a pylon somewhere in the English countryside; his father and neighbour were eradicated (MAG144). * Around 2012: Adelard didn’t think that The Extinction had begun to take Avatars yet (MAG113). [* Before January 7th 2017: Tessa Winters downloaded a program named “ushankasdespair.exe”, which forced her to watch him swallow his computer for 17 hours (MAG065).]

So, indeed giving the feeling that… something is getting closer and closer.

- Something that MAG134 and MAG144 have in common: the fact that the manifestations were linked to a form of communication (Garland’s diary and overall works, the numbers heard by Gary), in specific places (Garland’s flat, the pylon in Gary’s countryside), places that were specifically described as… frozen in time / unmoving compared to the world around them:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “On the fifth floor of an apartment building on the rue Lagarde, near the Panthéon, some construction workers had uncovered a door, that had at some point in the past been completely plastered over. Removing the covering and breaking through the old wood revealed another apartment, one apparently unnoticed by any of the other residents, or indeed the owners of those sections of the building, each of which had assumed the space was owned by one of the others, and connected to a different part. As far as anyone was able to determine, the apartment had been sitting there, sealed and undisturbed, for almost a hundred and fifty years. It was untouched, pristine, with barely a thin layer of fine dust coating the possessions and belongings that had stayed there for so long. […] The place felt strange, she told me. Like a tiny pocket of another time. A bubble, where the world had never changed. And stepping inside, she almost felt like she would never change either. Even the light that came through the window seemed to be of a different quality, muted and gentle. The street chatter of Paris, which usually reaches all but the most remote of windows, seemed to vanish entirely. There was a sense of peace to it all, shot through with a strand of disquiet – a wrongness, she told me she could not identify, but she could almost smell it. […] Every single shrivelled ashened face was contorted in a scream of agony, every sharp and jutting jaw cracked and twisted in an expression of horror – of understanding not just of their death, but the end of everything they knew. It was clear that they had been this way for years, if not decades. Bernadette says she was sure that nothing had moved in that dead city for a hundred years.”

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…! [SIGH] We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery. I would look at him, and see a grim sort of destiny for myself: trapped here, until I became him – any future I might have had, sacrificed to his. […] That summer seemed to drag on forever. The boredom and irritation of trying to care for my dad was only heightened by the weather, and we were both feeling it. Just didn’t have anything to do…! I don’t… really want to go into my living situation here, but it’s enough to say I wasn’t working a regular job and, while I could theoretically contact my old mates, they’d all got on with their lives without me. The world had moved on. … I was left behind.”

Places/people that feel like they can’t change or move forwards, while everything else does. (And we’ve had so many talks about people “changing” this season… Mmmmm…)

Note to self that with the beginning of the statement, I did wonder if it wasn’t Something Lonely – we were dealing with isolated places, the statement-giver was spending a lot of time alone and wasn’t… really connected to anybody, there was “the huge metal skeleton of an old disconnected power pylon” in the background – pylon which turned out to be the place where the numbers could be heard… So, mmmm… Why is Peter, avatar of The Lonely, specifically so invested in stopping that newcomer…?

- Outside of the RQ-extended-universe crossover inside-joke about “DOOOM”, I feel like Gary Boylan’s use of the word might be especially relevant because… he specifically differentiated it from “dread”.

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Do you know that one of the symptoms of a heart attack is literally a sense of impending doom? [INHALE] Well, I wasn’t having a heart attack, but I think I know what they mean…! What settled over me wasn’t dread; there wasn’t enough uncertainty for that. No. It was… doom. I was certain that some sort of disaster was on the horizon. […] And within those numbers are all of our dooms. If you know how to read them.”

… and “dread” was the word that Robert Smirke personally used to refer to the Fears:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been blessed with a long life, something few who crossed paths with the Dread Powers can boast, but now… at the end of it, my true fear is that I have wasted it, chasing an impossible dream. […] I have been thinking, of late, about the first origin of the Dread Powers, if… such beings can really be said to have true origins. Are they eternal, or are they created from our own fear, by some grand accident – or, worse: some grand design? I believe the latter to be the case, as you well know, for I have in vain struggled to reconcile their creation with the existence of a Loving God.”

It's possible that Smirke’s vocabulary was… too restrictive, but I do wonder if… in context, it isn’t hinting that The Extinction-or-whatever-it-is isn’t actually a Fifteenth Fear, but something operating too differently from the others…?

- I’ll never get tired of Martin’s… little troubles when introducing statements – it never goes smoothly, he marks small pauses, has troubles reading the numbers, etc., compared to Jon’s… seamless professional voice (… except when some of his emotions are showing: sometimes impatience, sometimes… listen, when he introduced the statement in MAG129? He was still brooding SO MUCH after the disaster of a conversation he had had with Martin shortly before). In the same way, I… love how Martin’s own speculation is so awkward and potentially off the mark afterwards? Reminder that Martin barely remembered the name “Maxwell Rayner” in MAG098, and he sounded SO PROUD in MAG110 when he was able to guess that The Spooky Book Mentioned Had Probably Been A Leitner (“I mean… I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hm.” mARTIN that was an easy guess… x””D); and in the same way, his conclusions in MAG138 were… a bit awkward compared to the content of the statement:

(MAG134) MARTIN: Anyway. Smirke was clearly wrong about the powers balancing each other, at least. I mean, i–it’s, [SHORT LAUGHTER] it’s obviously impossible. There’s too much variation in, in how much something is feared by people at any one time. And, and if that’s the case, I… suppose it’s… not impossible that Peter… [LONG PAUSE] might be telling the truth. I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly.

(M… Martin, what “other Millbank” do you think it could be, given the discussions/researches in the Archives………………….) To his credit, he was trying to guess why Peter had given him this statement, so he had a certain Way Of Looking At Things, but. Still. Smirke’s statement wasn’t really about the “variations” of how people experience fear(s)…? And in the same way:

(MAG144) MARTIN: Statement ends. [CLEARS THROAT] [INHALE, EXHALE] … Right. Another… statement. Another side to… Peter’s “Extinction”. I think. I… Y– I– [HUFF] I, I couldn’t follow some of his reasoning, but I think it was about… nuclear weapons, or… or maybe doomsday’s weapons…? In keeping with the theme, I suppose.

Martin miiight be paying too much attention to concreteness and things he Already Knows, and failing hard to essentialise and theorise…? Obviously, yes, the symptoms evoke the destruction caused by nuclear weapons, both in MAG134 and MAG144 (destruction, corpses melting/being absolutely blasted), but the Fear itself… is something broader, probably? (So: is he accidentally absolutely spot-on? Or totally off the mark, and the fact that he went with “nuclear weapons” mean it isn’t this, at all?)

- ;; It has been a constant in season 4 when we have Martin’s statements and Jon’s statements: they… would both progress much better if they had access to each other’s statement.

MAG134’s (Smirke’s letter to Jonah) would have helped Jon to define a bit more Jonah’s whole character, after MAG127, and potentially retrace what happened to him – Jon labelled him as already “evil” in the 1830s, but turned out that he had apparently taken a step back, before falling deeper into Beholding shortly before 1867, apparently because he was afraid to die (… does that remind you of something, Jon?). Plus, indication towards the Watcher’s Crown. Meanwhile, Jon… learned that Adelard had helped Gertrude to stop The Flesh’s ritual in 2008, and could have pointed out a few old statements: MAG078 where Adelard tried to trap the Not!Them with the table and, more importantly, MAG113 where Adelard mistook an End avatar for an Extinction thing (… and we’re still not sure What The Heck “Binary” was, but Jon could have pointed to MAG065… in case Tessa’s experience was related). And Jon could maybe just Know a few things, and help overall.

But they don’t communicate, they’re in their own bubbles, and information isn’t getting shared right now. (Though Martin was planning to communicate his tapes to Jon… MAG138, especially, could be helpful to deal with the Institute on its own…)

- I love Jon’s reading, alright, and I love Martin’s too for different reasons. He tends to put more emphasis in words, bloating some here and there? He gets so nasal sometimes? So casually sassy? Jon often has an edge, but Martin… Martin feels Less Charitable in his delivery and I love it. AND I ESPECIALLY LOVED:

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “Something kept me rooted there, sleeping in a bedroom that hadn’t changed since I was fifteen, and caring for a man who I’d rather just shut up…!”

That. That “Shut up!” was so Beautiful And Martin.

- I’M SO EMOTIONAL OVER THE FACT THAT DAISY AND MARTIN ARE BECOMING KINDA FRIENDS WITH MAG142 AND MAG144… and then kinda nop. But the fact that Daisy was comfortable enough to come back, to share with Jon that she had talked with Martin, and that she wanted to give information about him (/them) to Martin in return… ;w;

(MAG144) [KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.] MARTIN: [SHORT SHAKY INHALE] [SILENCE] [KNOCK–KNOCK–KNOCK] MARTIN: [RUFFLING PAPER] Come in. [DOOR OPENS.] DAISY: Mind if I join you? [SCRIBBLING SOUNDS START.] [DOOR CLOSES] DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on– MARTIN: Just leave. DAISY: Sorry? MARTIN: [INHALE] Get out. DAISY: Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn’t– MARTIN: It’s not difficult! Just get out! DAISY: Fine. … Fine. Just thought you– MARTIN: No! No, you didn’t! [DOOR OPENS.] We’re not… we’re not friends, Daisy! None of us are! We’re all just trapped together, here, and–and kidding ourselves that we don’t hate it! Christ, there are more important things than, than “feelings”– DAISY: [INCREDULOUS EXHALE] MARTIN: –right now, alright, so just… leave me alone! For good! [SILENCE PUNCTUATED BY AGGRESSIVE SCRIBBLING NOISES] DAISY: … Right. You got it. [DOOR CLOSES]

The things Martin said… were very reminiscent of Tim’s own reasoning (and the overall idea that Tim… did feel trapped, and insisted on it, and was adamant about reminding everyone of that fact):

(MAG079) TIM: There is something in this place, and it’s messing up our heads. It watches us all the time. It stops me quitting. I’m pretty sure it would stop Elias firing Jon even if he decided to actually try running this place for once. MARTIN: You’re sure you don’t just want to stay? TIM: I’m. sure. MARTIN: But, like, deep down– TIM: No. MARTIN: … Oh. […] TIM: I… I’m not just going to leave you down here. MARTIN: You were all about quitting. TIM: Oh, for God’s sake, this isn’t about you. MARTIN: It never is. TIM: Alright, fine. Fine. What do you want? What’s your light at the end of these spooky damn tunnels? And don’t say “everyone happy forever”, because that’s not happening. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t know. I don’t know! I want to find out what’s going on. I want to save Jon. I want everyone to be fine and, you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn’t actually be the end of the world!

(MAG102) ARCHIVIST: Does the rest of the Institute know what’s going on down here? I mean, I never really paid attention, but… MARTIN: N–not really? I think? I mean, Tim’s been going on about it to anyone who listens, but I think they just… think he’s had a bit of a breakdown. ARCHIVIST: Well, I mean… MARTIN: I mean, they can quit.

And it also was a bit reminiscent of Gary Boylan’s own situation in his statement (MAG144: “We were both… trapped there, I think. Bound together in a sort of wordless misery.”). I’m not sure, then, that we should believe everything Martin told Daisy, especially since he pointed out to Peter that he had purposely wanted to drive Daisy away… partially to prevent Peter from wooshing her:

(MAG144) [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] MARTIN: [LONG SIGH] … Well? PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. MARTIN: Yeah, well. It seems to be your go-to move for dealing with anyone.

He… did tell Daisy that there were “more important things than feelings right now”, and it’s heart-breaking when taking into account that he AGGRESSIVELY (and so beautifully snappily.) wanted people to be Happy at the end of season 2… but I want to Believe in Martin being good at Manipulating people in the direction he wants. Martin has a history of weaponising his own feelings when it served his purpose: he knows how to use them against others, and it’s precisely how he managed to make Elias do exactly what he needed, in MAG118 – it’s because he had Feelings that it worked. But at the same time, I do think a bit of truth might be sneaking out, even in this case, and that Martin’s own bitterness… might be showing some of his true feelings, too. To put it more simply: I heard the exchange and Martin making Daisy leave as a conscious move from his part, focusing on the goal… but I’m not sure that all of his words were faked and false. And that might be another danger of The Lonely, too? That Martin pushing people away and thinking he is in control… might lead to him falling deeper into The Lonely, because he’s cutting ties and working alone. There is something so dangerous in thinking that you’re friends with people, that you care for them… while you refuse to share anything anymore with them, push them away constantly, only know them from afar and dread more and more to interact with them. And I’m not sure that Martin is taking that into account as much as he should. What is the point of sacrificing himself to protect others if it makes everyone miserable in the process, including him?

- One glimmer of hope is that it had been pointed out, during their last interaction, that Daisy was “observant”:

(MAG142) MARTIN: … Yeah. [LONG INHALE] I suppose. [LONG EXHALE] You’re… you’re pretty observant, you know? DAISY: Detective, remember? MARTIN: Yeah, you did mention.

Daisy showed that she was good at paying attention, reading people and their feelings. So she might be able to correctly interpret what Martin said, and guess that… Peter was around. Martin did talk like a hostage trying to make another bystander leave before they’d get involved (he’d sounded like that with Jon, already, in MAG129).

(But I’m worried that Daisy might feel let down by him at the same time, and take his words at face value despite it all? ;;)

(… Another option: MAG142 ended with the tape recorder being cut off, while Martin and Daisy were still together and talking. So it’s possible that they strategised a bit after that about how to act/behave, and about the fact that Peter can turn invisible, and that Daisy knows a bit more about Martin’s whole situation. I don’t know ;; I’m stupidly hoping that Team Archives could finally manage to… plan together… and achieve things…)

- I’m so glad that Daisy has been around……………… She tried to act as a bridge between Jon and Martin, between the two Main Threads of the season 4, and? It’s really not what you would have expected from her when she first appeared in MAG061, and with her whole attitude in season 3, aaaaah…

(- And OOPS over the fact that Martin, who had decided to be cold and dry since the beginning of their scene (aggressively scribbling and pointedly… not making it sound like he’s available: the message was clearly that he was busy and she was bothering him and unwanted)… snapped and exploded and cut her off when she mentioned Jon and Jon using Daisy to get to him. Aouch. Is it that he’s unallowed anything Jon as far as Peter is concerned? Or because Martin really wants to prevent Peter from focusing on Jon?)

(- Also! Martin was chill with Daisy talking with him in MAG142, but not here in MAG144. Is it because now, he likes Daisy and wants to protect her, while he didn’t care in MAG142 because… he didn’t know much about Daisy’s actual personality outside of The Hunt? Or is it because Martin is beginning to be able to tell when Peter is spying on him, and when he isn’t? He directly addressed Jon through the tape at the end of MAG138, implying that he assumed that he was safe from Peter back then (he tried to lure him out and Peter didn’t manifest… but that wasn’t a guarantee). Here, he didn’t slip anything and was expecting Peter to pop up, from the start. So: can he feel it, now?)

- Peter’s logic is… so frightening:

(MAG144) PETER: I’m impressed! And grateful. MARTIN: I didn’t do it for you. PETER: Even better. MARTIN: … It’s easier, this way. I’m sure you’d have had no problem sending her away. PETER: I hadn’t really thought about it. And now, thanks to you, I don’t need to. […] Oh! Speaking of which: I’ve had a report of a workplace dispute in the library, and I would value your input. I’m trying to get out of the habit of, what did you call it…? “Sending them away”? MARTIN: [SIGH] … Fine.

It’s… really that Martin is trapped in this situation where only he can damage-control Peter, and they both know it, and Peter uses it fully to get Martin close and wrapped around his little finger, too (although Martin still snaps a lot and nags Peter and unleashes his pettiness at him in return). And Martin had already told Jon, during their last exchange:

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: At least, The Eye hasn’t gone after our own. Lukas has vanished two people! MARTIN: Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, it would’ve been a lot more. [SILENCE] This isn’t helping anything.

And… Martin was right back then ;; (And Peter probably wooshed these two people just for Martin to know that he could prevent it if he just… complied and stayed around and kept a close eye on Peter and did all his work. Martiiiiiin, you’re so absolutely stuck in an abusive relationship…)

- (not) SMOOTH, PETER, (not) SMOOTH:

(MAG134) PETER: Martin… My patron, hopefully our patron someday, doesn’t give me any sort of special insights. I’m not quite the accomplished voyeur that Elias was. I have to keep tabs on things the old-fashioned way. MARTIN: What, turning invisible and eavesdropping? PETER: If you like. But… I’m only one person, and I can’t keep an eye on everything.

(MAG138) MARTIN: I think he wants me to join The Lonely. ELIAS: Then it sounds like you have a decision to make.

(MAG144) PETER: I’m just not big on confrontation. You understand, I’m sure. MARTIN: We. Are not. The same. PETER: Of course. […] MARTIN: So what’s our next step? PETER: For you, keep researching. I’m sure we haven’t found all the statements in here that deal with The Extinction yet. One of the downsides of not serving The Ceaseless Watcher is that we have to actually look things up. Not to… mention the fact that Gertrude was distressingly good at obfuscation. The more you know about our enemy, the better.

… he slightly stressed that last “we” and it sounds like he absolutely does count Martinas being on the same side as him now and… not much as a Beholding agent? Getting hunches and being directed towards statements is Jon’s thing but the way Peter was dividing Beholding things and how he himself (and Martin alike) has to operate was a bit striking… ;;

(- On that note: I’m curious about how Peter mentions that Gertrude “was distressingly good at obfuscation” – we knew that already, right, but… Adelard’s letter in MAG113 (circa 2012) explicitly stated that Gertrude was “dismissive” of the possibility of a New Threat, and Adelard had chronologically already labelled it as The Extinction to her (MAG134’s letter is from 2009). Yet, Peter is assuming that Gertrude hid the information around the new Fear on purpose? Is it because Peter doesn’t know (yet) about the fact that Gertrude didn’t believe in it (and Gertrude might have accidentally labelled this and that statement with other Fears’ stamps), or did Gertrude… actually get more concerned about it, in her last years, and hide information on purpose…?)

- Re: Peter’s distaste for Confrontation and his implications that Martin is the same… it makes sense as a Lonely thing, but also: it… isn’t Very Martin, in fact? Because Martin held back, but he also did end up confronting people here and there – exploding at Jon in MAG039, nagging him into eating, orchestrating The Intervention, and trying to get him to talk to Tim in season 2, exploding in front of Tim in MAG079, literally confronting Elias in MAG118. But at the same time: it’s true that it Takes A Lot for Martin to finally snap.

But the thing about being non-confrontational is not exclusively Lonely and I’m reminded of these moments in relation to Martin:

(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us.

(MAG128, Breekon) “The Spider’s always an easy job – no fuss, no complication, everything planned and prepared. It knows too much to truly be a Stranger, but hides its knowing well enough to endure.”

So mmmmmm, I might be grasping at straws and I still want to hope about Web!Martin but. What Martin is doing can still perfectly be read as absolutely Web-y: not confronting and mostly getting people where and how he wants them, making them believe they are the ones in control of their own actions and decisions, while hiding in plain sight.

- I’m… so sorry for Martin, why is your life SO HARD baby:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever! ELIAS: … Just like old times~ MARTIN: I don’t know what I expected.

(MAG144) MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH]

Martin had to deal with BOTH of them, do you even realize how shitty his life is? He got the Worst Of Elias, and he’s been dealing with Peter for months, and They’re Just The Same. (Lonely Eyes rubbing off on each other, I GUESS? :w)

(- On that nsfw note:

(MAG144) MARTIN: And you? PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. […] I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable.

1°) “Straight” (answers) make Peter uncomfortable 2°) Peter has his “own explorations” to take care of

… was that a reference to Elias, Peter.)

- The Dark is (presumably) dealt with so now, we’re getting new Questions in the Speculation Game, namely: who is Peter’s “friend”?

(MAG144) PETER: I have my own explorations I need to attend to. And a, hum… meeting. To arrange. For you…! MARTIN: For me? PETER: I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I feel you’ve earned some straight answers. MARTIN: But not from you. PETER: Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable. No, I’m owed a favour by a friend of mine. I’ve asked him to stop by, when he’s back in the country. MARTIN: You’re not just going to tell me, maybe? PETER: When have I ever? MARTIN: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH] PETER: Oh, come now. What would life be without the occasional twist?

It’s a “he”. People we’ve heard about that I’m considering:

* Mikaele Salesa: we got reminded of his existence in MAG141, and he’s been revealed to be Officially Dead… through a third-hand account, who never saw the body, and it was after retrieving an item with an unknown purpose (but a broken camera lens… brought me to mind Beholding or Dark stuff, and something allowing you to conceal instead of revealing?). We know that Peter and Salesa were on good enough terms, back in MAG066, for them to… bet on whether someone would survive getting accidentally stuck in one of Salesa’s items, and he looked a bit relieved that the dude hadn’t died, so Peter opening the crate sounded like he was doing him a favour => could be the one Peter is referring to, or something else, but at least, they know each other, they both are Sailors People, etc., so learning a bit more about how they came to be acquaintances/them working on some projects together would make sense.

* Simon Fairchild: Peter said that his friend would be “back in the country” and we know that Simon Fairchild, who travels a lot, is actually from Hackney (if it’s the same con artist who was active in the 1930s that Jon had worked on, as he mentioned in MAG051). The Lukases and Fairchilds participated together in the Daedalus project, both “families” (Gerry told us that while the Lukases are about bloodlines, Fairchilds are… more of a brand?) are filthy rich, and, overall, Jon jinxed it back in MAG124 when he spat that “I do not think I ever wish to meet him.”

* Adelard Dekker…? I would be very surprised if he had been on friendly terms with Peter, but then, we don’t know much about Adelard (he tended to save people or prevent more victims when he was around… but it was more about neutralising threats than caring much about collateral damages: he did use explosives to stop The Flesh’s ritual). I’m kinda expecting Adelard to either have turned into an Extinction avatar by present time, or have been killed researching it, or have been killed… by Peter, hence Peter knowing so much about his researches but not asking for his help in tracking down his statements. (I had also considered at some point that MMM, what if Adelard and Peter are actually the same person under aliases…? But they’re both Rare Cases of characters who have had official descriptions: Peter is very pale even for a white man, while Adelard is a Black man. So nah.)

* Oliver Banks…? I’m not suggesting him because I love this sneaky little shit and would love to hear him more – er, not only because of it. But overall, Peter was able to explain to Martin why The End had never tried a ritual attempt and wasn’t interested in it, while he wasn’t as certain of The Web’s motivations for doing the same (and not carrying out its ritual)… so that could fit with him being actually pretty well acquainted with an End avatar as an inside source. Not banking (get it? get it?) on it, but. (Also, canonically handsome mlm Oliver never met Tim (as far as we know), which is a shame, but. Martin is still right here. And Oliver knows a bit about Jon’s dreams and overall situation with the Spiders. So could be an interesting encounter.)

* Another Lukas…? Peter said “friend”, though, but I’m pretty sure he would call Martin a “friend” to someone else if asked, and they’re not friends. (… This sentence sounds like SF’s Trexel.)

* I’m trying to “be in Peter’s head” and imagine what it would take for him to use that wording, and: I’m not expecting it at all, because I think he… won’t be relevant ever aside from what we were told in MAG118. But. But if Peter’s “friend” was actually Martin’s dad, this is probably the wording he would use, and it would be awful.

- So we got an update and Basira&Jon made it “home” safely:

(MAG144) DAISY: They’re back. I thought you might wanna know. [INHALE] Seems like it went smooth – too smooth for Basira, sounds like. Keeps looking at Jon like she can’t believe he made it back. [SILENCE] I, uh… I mentioned our conversation to him; he asked me to check on–

We technically don’t know how long it took them through Helen’s corridors, but presumably not much time. (… Martin had apparently felt like he had been stuck with Tim in Michael’s for weeks, although it was actually at most a day or two? He did spit that it had been “weeks” at Elias but we know the dates at the end of season 2 / beginning of season 3, it can’t have been weeks.)

Why is Basira surprised that Jon managed to make it back…? Is it because she thinks he should be dead from the Dark Sun…? (Because… I would expect Basira to be surprised that she herself made it back – and we had confirmation that she wasn’t planning to get rid of Jon against The Dark, since she tried to convince him to not Try To Get Himself Killed and even suggested that leave a potential threat untouched, in MAG143… So why the focus on Jon?) Daisy interacted with him and didn’t mention anything amiss, so I doubt he got blinded, in any case?

In summary: we’ve… been cut-out from Jon’s POV since MAG139/MAG140 and Jon Still Remains A Mystery – what is he thinking, when did he begin to forcefully torture and extort live-statements from innocent people (… if it was indeed him in MAG142 and not the rib he gave to Jared mutating or something)? Martin has been gradually taking more importance, in season 4: he was barely seen at first (MAG124, MAG129), began to have his moments alone/with Peter (MAG126), went back to reading statements (MAG134, MAG138, MAG144) and to having episodes solely dedicated to him interacting with people and wondering about his own researches (MAG138 when he first visited Elias, MAG142 when he received the Unnamed Female Victim’s complain). Martin’s episodes are getting more and more frequent, to the point of… alternating with “Jon”’s episodes since we came back from the hiatus. While Jon’s own thoughts are currently hidden to us, Martin has been more transparent and has received focus of his own. He’s stepping up as a protagonist, right now… and it could be the sign that we’re meant to lose Jon (whether because he would die-die or die-as-Jon) soon…?

(- Last time Martin and Jon interacted was fifteen episodes ago, in MAG129 (holy Mew) and… at this point, I’m doubting more and more that if they do interact ever again, it would go… well. Whether because Peter is in the room and Martin pulls the same thing he did with Daisy (shouting at her until she left, screaming/pretending/maybe being more honest than he thought about his own bitterness), or because Martin takes into account what he’s been told by the woman in MAG142, or… anything. Even if Jon picks up, like the fandom did, on the fact that he’s been led by Elias to experience other Fears and that the Lonely is missing… pointing out to Martin that Martin is possibly meant to be the one inflicting the Lonely on him, and that Peter’s schemes were mostly to keep Martin occupied and push him towards the Lonely to have an effect on Jon… would be devastating for Martin? It’s still a possibility (though I personally do believe that there IS indeed a new threat, whether it’s The Extinction or… something else, that they’ve all been misinterpreting), and it was brought up, whether it’d be true or not, I can’t imagine Martin reacting well to the thought that he’d have only been used and never mattered in the first place. How could Jon and Martin even interact, nowadays? Jon has already told Martin that he missed him. Daisy implied that Jon sent her to check on him. Martin knows that Jon is worried and cares – he knows, and it’s not enough, because there is the new threat and Peter to deal with at the moment. And in the meantime, Jon has apparently fallen deeper into Beholding than we previously thought. How could they even find a common ground after this…? (………………… except by sharing mourning over Tim and Sasha, I guess. I miss Tim.)

Title for MAG145 is out and OOOOH BOY. Obviously, it brings to mind the whole content of MAG139 and Jon’s tirade at the end – AND it screams “Corruption statement” (finally!! baby is maybe finally making it into season 4!!). We have a link between Desolation and Corruption through Diego’s beliefs in “Asag” (who contained both aspects), and the fact that Arthur Nolan had been “demoted” from cult leader to The Hive’s landlord and… we still don’t know the story behind that. But I’m not sure we would dig into Desolation/Agnes-related matters so soon, since Eugene had explained that they had lost their chance for their ritual for a few decades – it’s not an urgent matter for Jon, I doubt he’ll keep investigating right now, after having just confirmed that they aren’t a current threat? So, mmm, things I’m considering:

- Jon digging into Corruption/Desolation history again anyway.

- Jon digging into the Corruption to check if they got their ritual attempt – it’s missing on our list, could have been what the worms were trying to do in the tunnels but we still don’t know… and overall, we don’t know a lot about how Corruption operates past independent avatars (The Hive/Jane Prentiss, and John Amherst, Maggie/Gordie): would a ritual be carried out by a lonesome avatar, or would it need a collaboration between many?

- Another of Gertrude’s tapes, this time about The Corruption and their plans for a ritual? Because perhaps the double meaning of the title could… be about her own thoughts (since we already had a look at Jon’s own in MAG139).

- MELANIE digging into Corruption-related matters to track down (or establish what happened to him, if he’s dead) John Amherst’s moves after MAG036/MAG055’s reports.

As for the second meaning: I doubt it would be about Martin, and I’m not sure if it can be about Jon again so soon after MAG139 (unless… it’s about Something Else, ie Jon, what are your current thoughts about The Watcher’s Crown. Have you never mentioned that you wanted to stop it because you’re afraid of negative repercussions if you say it outright, or because you actually do not not want to prevent it.)… so, the assistants about Jon? Or about Martin, since he chased Daisy away? Or an overall realisation that they thought they were doing their own things, but have probably been played by Elias all through season 4?

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #the magnus archives #tma liveblog #tma season 4 #mag144 #long post/

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lololollywrites · 5 years

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thoughts about being 29 on the internet that i just had in the shower...

...and had to write down. they were all basically just about how f**king - NEW. and surreal. the internet, its capabilities, and its fandoms can still be to me sometimes. i feel like i forget this a lot. but when i think about it, i can easily recall my wonder at discovering that it all existed in waves of smaller finds. and because i know there are others like me, i thought i’d share some of my own experiences. because honestly, i’ve had fewer years on tumblr and sites like it than some people much younger than me. i’m catching up and enjoying it.

firstly, i know i’m old to some of you, but i’m not really old. not really. i’m still a millennial, screwed over by student loans and old white men and viewed as part of the technological generation. i’m a phd student, and because i’m always on a college campus, i’ve been mistaken as a freshman. a few times. but it’s been fascinating to witness actual freshman and other college students and consider just how different things are for them and honestly? i’m sort of jealous.

because...

i can remember when i first discovered that fanfiction existed. i was in third period tech skills as a junior in high school - 16 years old - and got a little off-topic and searched for spoilers for a new supernatural episode. this was in 2005 and the show had just come out (yes i still watch, i can’t escape).

and what did i find? somehow? fanfiction.net. i was, no exaggeration, shocked. i sat and read a full-length chaptered fic in episodic format. my mouth was hanging open. i saw thousands more fics in hundreds of fandoms and suddenly felt less strange for envisioning full-scale episode re-imaginings in my head as i laid in bed, dissatisfied with what i had just watched. (btw, i watched new supernatural episodes the sunday after they used to originally air on the wb on thursdays, at my mom’s house where i had my own room and own tiny tv, because no one at my dad’s house wanted to watch and streaming episodes wasn’t something i could even imagine. plus i didn’t have internet at my dad’s house. i know.)

not only that, but i was impressed as hell. here was me, not even aware that you could somehow upload your own text to the internet, and people were not simply writing polished stories in private but posting them somewhere that allowed for chapters. that allowed for people all over the world to read their words. that categorized everything into a huge virtual library. and, most incredibly to me, that allowed for reviews from people around the world.

i couldn’t believe that this new world was open to me. that people would be so generous as to offer amazing stories to me to read FOR FREE. that i had a limitless supply of content to read and review. i barely had functioning internet at home, so i had been sheltered. i told the people sitting next to me in class about it and encouraged them to check it out, mostly to blank stares. i may have even told the teacher, but no one cared. i didn’t understand. who wouldn’t be interested? i told my dad and my sister about it when i got home from school. i was mind-blown.

months in and many reads and written reviews later, i wrote my first fic. it was for smallville. 6 chapters, with updates every few days, that received 14 reviews in total. i read them all multiple times. i showed my sister. i checked the story stats every half hour. i cried. i wrote on the family computer secretly in the evening when most of my family had gone upstairs, because i was about half a year away from owning my first laptop. i wrote more stories sporadically for about 6 years, gradually getting better, but also gradually becoming more stressed and aware of negativity, online arguments, and the embarrassment and shame i suddenly felt about having an online presence. i found a supernatural forum at tv.com (the forums sadly no longer exist), learned about fandom, and immersed myself in posting and being part of a community that i thought understood me more than my friends. like a secret life.

during my first year of college, in 2007, i was in a friend’s dorm when he asked everyone if we wanted to watch an episode of scrubs. i laughed. surely he was joking. “how can we just watch an episode? it’s not on now and you don’t have the dvds.” i literally didn’t consider that there may have been a way. he excitedly told us that he had found some website that had episodes just... pre-uploaded. and that you could just click. i didn’t believe him. the stress of having to be at the tv at a certain time each week for fear of missing an episode entirely and forever was just part of being a fan, right? buying the tv guide and checking listings was necessary. but he found the episode. and clicked. it only took a few full minutes to load and there it was. again, i was astounded. this memory is so shockingly clear to me. it changed how i spent much of my free time, for one. just that moment.

sometime during this first year of college, i was home for break and came across a video on youtube, this new website i had started to use. it reminded me of ebaum’s world, which my friend would show me at her house sometimes because her computer was faster than mine. it was called “cat soup”, and by two guys that called themselves smosh. it had more views than i could comprehend - probably not much more than 5 digits, but still. they were just two kids i could have gone to school with who could create a funny video and get famous. again, i was shocked. mind-blown.

i showed my sister, my mom, and all my friends. they appreciated it a bit more than the fanfiction, but no one seemed to grasp how incredible and revolutionary it was. they all liked “shoes”, with the kelly persona by liam kyle sullivan (we still quote it today), probably because its budget and effects made it a bit more familiarly professional and it appeared less homemade (though it definitely was). but i couldn’t forget smosh. i was so impressed by them. i watched more videos and eventually found communitychannel and jenna marbles and eviliguana and shane dawson. i even found fan edits for my faves, buffy (maybe i saw one of phil’s, lol) and supernatural and smallville, and tried making my own. i freaked in 2009 or so when fred reached a million subscribers. a million. i couldn’t wrap my head around that. again, i told my sister and friends, expecting them to see the enormity of something so crazy happening, and they just... didn’t.

back in 2008, after watching “stick it” again, i recalled the name of a gymnast my cousin used to always talk about when we were kids - from the 1996 olympics - and looked her up on youtube. i realized that all gymnastics competitions imaginable had been uploaded. again - not to be repetitive - but i was shocked. there’s no better word. i gave myself a thorough education on the sport, traveling through time. i am still so grateful that i was able to do that.

sometime in 2009, my friends started pestering me to create a facebook account. i was a junior in college. 20 years old already. it sounded weird - pictures of me online? why? but i gave into pressure and made one. my mom had never allowed us to make a myspace; we were a bit young, and she hated the idea (now, she’s on facebook more than i am). around the same time i got my fanciest phone yet - an LG Env3. i figured out that it could access the internet and that i could use songs to create ringtones. again, sufficiently mind-blown. considering my first cell phone had been a flip phone with no camera that i shared with my sister during emergencies when i was 13, i felt that technology was coming along fast.

smart phones were foreign to me for a long long time, until recently actually. i thought they were unnecessary for quite a while. i don’t even remember what phones i had at the end of college and through grad school, but i’m pretty sure they consisted of a series of cheap pay-as-you-go phones from walmart. in 2013, i went to china for a year to teach. i got a cheap phone there and used it for about 7 months. one day, a friend of mine gave me his old htc smartphone because he was getting a new one. i didn’t know how to use it, but i played one app on repeat before class and snapped some low-quality photos. after that, i almost immediately went to indonesia for another 9 months to teach high school (2014-2015). the htc phone died very quickly, so i used the nokia brick phone given to me by the organization. it was fine. i had never even used my old smartphone to access the internet, aside from wechat, thanks to china’s internet blocks. it wasn’t until i got home, in the summer of 2015, that i finally got an iphone. it was a huge deal and a big learning curve. it was also around this time that i found dan and phil and tumblr. i only got my macbook two years ago and finally think i have some things figured out.

so i may be old in some ways and remember floppy disks and the card catalog and using encyclopedias to write my middle school papers and huge computers with black screens and green text that displayed math problems in elementary school. i may be able to remember the sound of ancient, huge printers that used reams of paper with perforated, tearable strips down each side. i may remember aol red, dial-up, and not being able to connect if someone was on the phone. but i can also remember watching technology evolve in front of me, discovering fandom and the huge world of content and friendship that lay ahead. and when people try to say i’m too old to like dan and phil, i remind them that dan and phil can also remember. we’re the same age. i relate to them and their stories. to phil’s buffy obsession. to dan’s love of smosh. i’ve only had about 10 fully-cognizant years here on the internet, and only a couple in the world of tumblr and iphones and mobile apps. i’m young in those ways. and i look young enough that strangers sometimes think i’m a teenager.

that’s laughable to me in some ways, because i’ve lived so much since my teen years. so much has happened. but in others, i don’t feel much different. there’s no age where you just feel grown up. that your interests vanish. that things suddenly seem childish and dumb. yes, i cringe about some things i wrote or did back then and i think i’ve matured, but my interests are all still relatively similar and i can finally explore them in ways that i just couldn’t before.

i hope that this has made sense. and i hope that some can relate.

#fandom #text post #sorry about this #i had to get it out #stories #me #dan and phil #kind of #well i mention them

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