#programming is nothing at all I am getting obsolete & the things I was made to do arent even things I’m good at I see actual human people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

geryuthespacesquid · 3 months

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Hi I'm a nobody asked digital artist, here's my thoughts on all the digital art programs I've tried. These are based entirely off my own memory, and I'm not picking up any of these programs again to test them. Just going off vibes.

Autodesk Sketchbook - Mobile:

This is more or less the definitive Draw You In To Art program. No exaggeration, I think if you asked maybe 50 digital artists in the modern day, most of them would've tried this one at least once. It projects an illusion of polish to distract you from a number of critical missing features, but overall, it's not even remotely bad to start out with. I think if my mobile tablet had a halfway decent degree of pressure sensitivity I could make something okay with it.

A more detailed explanation of my thoughts is hard, but to sum it up, this program bombards you with a million brushes for free, something rarely done by digital art programs, but, it also has extremely limited layer behaviors, you can't change canvas size anymore, and the stablizer is pits. I won't say it's bad. It's not. It's just not good. 5.8 out of 10.

Ibis Paint X - Mobile:

Comedically simple, this is the program you pick up when you're doing digital art a little better, and want to actually have fun. Bread and butter of the mobile digital artist. It has literally everything you need, it's just not fancy in any way. Getting every brush isn't worth paying for, but you'll live. They recently tried to step into AI and got punched in the gut so hard they stopped, which I like.

In general, this program doesn't do anything in particular extremely well, but it also doesn't do anything poorly. It's well rounded. I'd say if you're gonna do digital art on mobile, you'll always find yourself coming back around to this. It's just too solid. 7.8 out of 10.

Medibang Paint - Mobile:

I am biased against this program. I just don't like it. Maybe I was using it wrong, or maybe the mobile version is just worse, but it felt like drawing with mashed potatoes and gravy. Also it seems to be no longer available on my tablet, so fuck it.

In truth, my memory on this program is hazy despite me using it probably the second most out of all of these. No clipping mask, limited layer styles, an extremely limited number of brushes, no way to get more on mobile, anti aliasing made everything pixelated, and I don't think it can change canvas sizes, or if it can, I never figured out how. I just don't like anything about how the program feels. 3 out of 10.

Clip Studio Paint - Desktop:

Goddamn. I wanna recommend it. I really do. But. You have to know things.

First and foremost, the new subscription model for CSP essentially means that after a year, whatever version you have is obsolete, and won't even get updates while you have it. You have to pay a yearly subscription to get the updates for your current version. if you pay for the 3.0 version when it drops in march, it will be 10 dollars extra to get any of the updates to the 3.x version until 4.0 drops, when you can pay 25 dollars to upgrade to that and get all the 3.x updates, plus whatever came in 4.0. On top of that, it can cost anywhere from 25 to 200 dollars depending on which version you get, and if it's on sale.

But goddamn. It's pretty worth it. The brush engine is fluid, works great for making your own, I've never seen the program fail to do something. It has limits, but I've never hit them. 8 out of 10.

Rebelle 5 - Desktop:

Listen to me carefully. This one is extremely specific. You have to WANT a digital art program that replicates IRL media PRECISELY. If you don't care about that, this program is not worth it. I got it on sale for 10 dollars. Can I reccomend it at that price? Heartily. But at the near 200 dollar price point it usually goes for? FUCK NO. Rebelle caters to a specific demographic. Nothing else matters.

That said. When it works, it works well. I do like how rebelle feels and works. But not enough for me to ever tell someone to get it for full price. 4 out of 10, but if you really want to replicate traditional media, 9 out of 10.

Corel Painter - Desktop:

Never before has a program sent me on such an emotional rollercoaster as this one. It's just so much. It's a midpoint between Rebelle and Clip Studio, but for the worst. It's expensive beyond comprehension, you can't make your own brushes, only pay for new ones, it's a yearly format meaning a new, barely distinguishable version goes on sale every year for another 300+ dollars, and I only got it as part of a Humble Bundle for 25 dollars, and I still feel like I wasted my money.

And you know what? I didn't just dick around in this program. No, I made a full drawing in it. Nothing spectactular. Just a simple drawing. And I felt accomplished. and I went to export it, to share. Only to find out you can only email images to the email associated with your account to get a regular image version. Now. This made me irrationally angry, but, I calmed down, and tried it.

It only works with microsoft emails, and I have a gmail account associated with my Corel account.

This program is 300 dollars, and lacks the functionality to simply export a png to your computer. 2 out of 10.

#squidzard.txt #squidzardart #art #artists on tumblr #digital painting #digital art #digital illustration #art programs #rant

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kellodrawsalot · 1 year

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So about Aggretsuko

so tomorrow is the final season of Aggretsuko, once i finish it I will share my thoughts on it too but I am hoping we get an amazing ending for our girl

I manage to binge season all four seasons, including the Christmas special

and I got to say, despite my feelings about the ending of season 3 and 4....

I still love this series

(yes season 4 is mild to bad, I will talk about that too)

The series still hits right when it comes to charm, talking about the economic problems of today, (they boomers are daydreaming about the Bubble economy again) showing strong complicated and various adult women who all live different lives, be it a single strong career women or a wife with kids. My friends joke that in some ways I’m a lot like Retsy, (I try to please people and yes sometimes I do buy a product because I feel bad about going to a store and leaving without buying anything, I stress easy and do cry at times,) I think Retsy is a much stronger person then me trough and unlike her, I don’t desire a husband.) but still Retsy is easily my favorite character.

Season 2 is the highlight (so far of the series) I think it’s everyone’s favorite for a reason and while I know he’s popular with the fandom I do have to say with the new development of ai voices and ai art there are some things that just doesn’t sit right with me with Tadano

(Don’t get me wrong, I do like him!) Tadano wants to change the world by making most jobs obsolete with the workings of A, so that everyone can focus on something else they want to do, a passion or their dream, something creative. That’s great and all, but not everyone can make a living of that, ( see Manaka ) And even Retsuko points out at that moment: She’s fine with her office job, there are a lot of people who don’t really have any creative ambitions. And there’s nothing wrong with that. in fact, not everyone wants to turn their hobby into their day job either. Tadano’s dream and AI program will screw these people over. Tadano hopes that everyone can have a form of basic universal income, but that’s just not realistic, and I wish other characters pointed this out.

That being said seeing Retsuko and Tadano’s relationship develop was a lot of fun to see, they have chemistry, and it sucks that it didn’t work out between them. But I like it because it wouldn’t be fair to either Tadano or Retsuko to give up a part of themselves just to please the other. That would have made have ended up in a bitter divorce or break-up. Tadano doesn’t believe in marriage and doesn’t want kids. He wants Retsuko to just stay with him, leave her job and do whatever she wants. Retsuko doesn’t want to quit her job, and she wants to be a blushing bride and have children one day. Yeah these two were not going to work.

The other highlight of season 2 is we get to see more of Washimi and Gori, I love these two a lot, They are best friends and become Retsuko’s best friends through the series, we find out Washimi used to be married and got divorced just a few months later, she has no desire anymore to be a married woman, she’s happy with her life as it is and warns other women that marriage is not going to fix your life or all your problems. Then there is Gori, another 40-year old career woman who is looking for a husband: She regrets focusing too much on her career and less on finding a partner in her younger years. That said the series does not imply, that’s the only way for a woman to become happy and that Gori is an example of the fate of all regretful single women (just fyi studies suggest otherwise) Gori mentions that right now, she’s perfectly happy because of her career and her friends, she just hopes she will remain happy 20 years from now.

Season 3, Retsuko becomes part of an underground idol, she almost quits her office job because she CAN make a living of her singing career. It got ruined because a stalker makes an attempt to stab her. Japan has a deep issue with the way they handle stalkers, so this is sadly realistic for a lot of women living in Japan. She’s saved by Haida, but develops a form of ptds and hides away in her mother’s house. Sadly, no character suggests a form of therapy and Haida calls her a coward in a way to encourage her to go back to work. This rubs people of the wrong way, and it’s one of the reasons why people dislike the ending of season 3. Japan sadly has a stigma against therapy but I wish this more modern show that is willing to criticize some of Japanese traditional culture norms would have been open with this too, but alas.

Speaking of Haida, I have very mixed feelings about the character, I do like him I was rooting for him up till season 3 and 4. Him suggesting Retsuko is not that weak when Gori and Washimi tell him that Retsuko needs more time to heal from the attack made me uncomfortable. Just to remind everyone, you are not WEAK because you want to heal from a traumatic experience: remind yourself that. Haida is in love with Retsuko but doesn’t know her very well neither does Retsy know Haida, and by season 4 when they are in fact dating, both Haida and Retsuko keep secrets from one another. To me, it feels like Haida loves the idea of Restuko more then Retsuko. AND IN SEASON 4 HAIDA COMMITS BLUE COLLAR CRIMES LMAO Restuko is not a forward kind of woman and she’s not insertive.Haida often lacks the courage to take more steps with Restuko because he doesn’t believe in himself. Their own character traits are holding them back in this relationship, making me believe this won’t work out. I hope season 5 being a conclusion of the series will show us the development of their romance or the break-up of these two.

One’s thing that is frustrating about Aggretsuko is that each season sets itself back and everything goes back to the statues quo, but I’m happy to see Haida indeed quit his job by the end of season 4. Good going show! That beind said season 4 just felt messy, Haida’s arc felt frustrating but the season despite its flaws also had some key high lights

The episode where the characters are defending and helping Kabae trying to mix her work with her role as a mother is beautiful, Himeru was an excellent villain, can’t help but love this corrupt fellow. Ton despite being very problematic, a relic of the traditional ‘‘women belong in the kitchen’‘ jerks, shows a lot of his moral greyness this season. It doesn’t justify his abusive actions towards Restuko but, he obvious loves his family, refuses to fire anyone of his staff, even refusing to fire Retsuko under the pressure of Himeru and through the seasons he’s the one who gave out important lessons to Retsuko that ended up saving her: He knows when she’s suffering, or forcing herself to be something she’s not for her then-current boyfriend. ( Resasuke and Tadano) Retsuko ends up helping him in this season and despite some problems here and there, I believe they have a healthier work relationship now. (unless season 5 fucks this up)

anyway I am still hyped for the final season and I hope we see a happy ending to our angry panda.

or if you can’t Netflix maybe give us a movie to conclude everyone’s arc? maybe? ;-;

#aggretsuko #retsuko #aggretsuko season 5

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agent-calivide · 1 year

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Okay, so I see that @anticrazed has posted some of their IEYTD OC's, and I am taking that as the go ahead to lore dump the hell outta my and my friends OC's too, as well as the extended universe we've crafted for them.

Aaaand I have no clue how to do that "post is below the cut" thing, so I apologize for the text wall if this sends as a massive block of rambling

In this universe, the cast consists of Phoenix, Zor, Fabricator, Sans, Solaris, and a few OC's in modern times.

In a desperate attempt to live a few more years after getting a lethal illness, Zor put all of their top scientists to work on trying to find ways of creating immortality.

Solaris was the first, importing her mind into a computer (a la GlaDos from Portal) and still runs experiments to this day. Most who interact with Solaris think she's a computer program like Siri, very few know she's full blown sentient. She initially experimented with time dilation, but after a... mishap, she found it distasteful, and abandoned the method.

Then, there's Daniel Sans, who uses a combination of chemical compounds and super coolants to slow the aging process and sorta preserve himself (like a mixture of Mr. Freeze and Dr Muñoz from Cool Air ((aka bullshit science is bullshit)))

Last, was the Fabricator, who chose to take a more elegant approach to it all, using a combination of Botox and a serum to slow the aging process all together. She doesn't show many signs of growing older, and has a strict beauty routine to prevent any wrinkles from forming. As a side effect, however, she has to be very careful and avoid getting injured, as injuries take forever to heal. As such, she is wearing gloves 24/7, because her hands are constantly wrapped in bandage.

In the end, a mixture of these various solutions made Dr Zor functionally immortal, or at the very least made their illness obsolete. But in the background of all of this, there was a side project in the works.

Project Puerum. A project assigned to Solaris, and where the OC shenanigans begin.

Agent Cardinal/Operative C: Dr Zor's first successful clone, the cloning process being monitored by Dr Solaris in her free time between world-destruction projects. When C was born, she was nothing short of the perfect operative, intelligent, quick to learn, very malleable. Solaris and Fabricator were like surrogate mothers to her, and the Operatives all felt like older brothers and sisters. Even Sans, the stick in the mud that he was, grew to tolerate her presence. As time went on, C grew up to be Zoraxis' most formidable weapon, being a mole at the EOD in between operations, going by the name Cardinal. After all, Phoenix was an acceptable nickname, Cardinal sounded subtle enough that she wouldn't raise brows but distinct enough that she would be respected. But then, there was the accident. An incident that no one could possibly survive, as a time dilator that the EOD got from Dr Solaris' lab blew up, putting everyone in the room into a comatose state. Including C. Decades passed, Zoraxis mourned, and everyone moved on for the most part. But Solaris, Sans, and the Fabricator never fully moved on from their grief. When C woke up, she was just as young as the day the dilator glitched, having not aged a day, frozen in time. As she came to terms with being stuck in time, she only had one person from her past still with her. Agent Phoenix. Now a retired Handler, and an Agent she worked with when they were still young. Even though Phoenix had aged many years, they were the same spunky spitfire that they were in their early 20's, just as sassy as their handler was for them. C tried to go back to Zoraxis, but she was laughed at and damn near shot for the "cheap prank". And so, she was stuck at the EOD, and to this day Phoenix is her handler. She couldn't help but pick up some of their mannerisms, Fabricator's perfectionism fading as Phoenix taught her to go with the flow, Zor's ominous presence getting less visible in her attitudes as Phoenix slouched across the couch in her office and told her to "drop the boss speak" as they so eloquently put it, even her leaning towards violence faded as she was more exposed to alternate solutions than just killing people. It was.... nice, in a strange way. Her whole life had been laid out as some successor to someone she hardly talked to, but getting to be herself, to let her thoughts of rest be more than just thought, it was novel, wonderful even one might say. But she still misses and mourns her made up family, having accepted that the scientists likely all since passed. After all, Phoenix was hardly a spring chicken, and they were young when she got frozen in time. There was no way the others were still around...

Jade Juniper: A Zoraxis Operative who spends her days working on Zoraxis missions and performing as a world class singer to rake in cash for Zoraxis. Ever since the Peacekeeper, they haven't been able to fully come out of the shadows, so they depend on Operatives like Jade to rake in some extra money to fund their out of this world projects. Jade Juniper, as her name implies, is the daughter of John Juniper, her mother having died in childbirth. John treated Jade like a downright princess, spoiling her and giving her all the love and attention anyone could ask for. As he got into Zoraxis, he was blinded both by the power, and by the Zoraxis interworkings. Namely, the odd young girl, only a few years older than his own daughter. She always was attached to the hip of some scientist, and as such Jade's attention from John started slipping. He spent more and more time at work, at Zoraxis, and Jade was left to be raised by Gibson for a long while. Any time she tried to hop in, partake in the conversation, help her father with Zoraxis work to try and spend more time with him, she'd be silenced and told to go do something else. The more time went on, the more she heard all the adults talking about this girl. "C did her first mission" "C solved my traps in record time" "C seems to be warming up to me, can you imagine?" C. C. C. Everything was about this C. It was maddening, especially as her father's attention was pulled more and more by this other girl. And the group's reaction when she tried to step up and say she could do it- it was maddening! They all laughed, laughed! Jade was consumed by a bitter, simmering rage, but over time it slowly faded as her father spend more time with her. After all, they've almost made it! Just one more week, and then her father would be hers again.... John's death crushed her. She was told that the Phoenix killed him, some EOD agent that didn't want Zoraxis to take over, and didn't want Juniper to live after what he did. All that pain, all that anger and pent up frustration from years of begging for her dads attention all collapsed at once, and Jade was lost in bloodthirsty revenge. She swore she'd get vengeance on the EOD, no matter what. She got a dose of anti aging serum herself, similar to the Fabricator's, but more refined. More effective. She spent decades selling her soul to Zoraxis, and as she worked, the more she heard about C. If she thought C was irritating before, now she was enough to drive a person insane. Every accomplishment Jade achieved, C did it faster. Cleaner. Better. C was always better, C couldn't be beat! Jade couldn't help but feel a morbid joy as C was declared dead. Revenge would have been sweeter, but she could settle for karma. And so, Jade Juniper, with the stage name Sabrina Hendrix, rakes in money for Zoraxis by day, and by night is one of Zoraxis' most formidable operatives, driven by a need for revenge, and a desire to come out on top of everyone. Especially C.

Operative 4: A hitman for hire working for Zoraxis. Having grown up on the streets and willing to do damn near anything for money, it was appropriate that he ended up in the hands of the world's most evil empire. While blood on his hands kept him up at night, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Especially these days, as Zoraxis probably legally owned his soul at this point with how many contracts he signed just to get hired. 4 was always a bit disturbed... no, horrified by the things he had to do, but he was hired to do one job, and he refused to lose it over morals, even if he spent his nights watching the backs of his eyes. One day, his mission changed. He wasn't to kill someone, or even beat them to a bloody pulp. He was to follow a lead on an operative who disappeared several decades ago. Operative C. It was an odd project for sure, and a change of pace to boot, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset over the new gig. After all, he was looking for some old woman in her 60's. He could handle an old lady blindfolded... Except C wasn't old. Far from it. No, what should've been a woman in her 60's looked to be a teen, mid 20's at her latest. And she didn't seem to care about things like morals, or giving people dignified deaths. Suddenly he was much more nervous about this mission, and he found himself treating the agent like an explosive death trap.... Probably because she was one

These are just 3 of the 7 characters of our overarching story, but they're the main characters for lack of a better term. I honestly love the thought of writing a fic of them, but I feel like there'd be no interest in it, and flooding my tumblr with a bunch of OC's mayyy not be what everyone's signed up for. This is an IEYTD blog after all

#IEYTD #IEYTD2 #i expect you to die #i expect you to die 2 #john juniper #fabricator #Dr Zor #Daniel Sans #Solaris #Agent Phoenix #OC's #Agent Cardinal #Jade Juniper #Agent 4 OC

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smolalienbee · 2 years

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detroit become human // starts off with machine!connor // TW: suicide attempt, depression // 788 wc

The mission is the most important thing - and yet, Connor goes out of his way to see Lt Hank Anderson one last time. He finds that perhaps some of his priorities have changed.

also available on AO3!

He shouldn’t be here. This isn’t part of the mission - the Lieutenant is unimportant now, has become obsolete the moment he quit the force. Useless to Connor who still has a mission to accomplish.

And yet, Connor finds himself standing at the doorstep of Lt Hank Anderson’s home and his LED spins red as he wonders why am I even here?

But there is no time to ponder. Perhaps it’s some twisted sense of duty that has carried him here; something in his programming that has misbehaved, has failed to delete the partner tag for Lt Hank Anderson. Something in his programming that tells him he should check up on the man.

He steps inside.

Instantly, he’s hit with the eerie familiarity of the place - all his sensors picking up on the miniscule detail, strands of both Sumo and the Lieutenant’s hair, the alcohol stains, the yellowing of the wallpaper that has seen too much cigarette smoke and even the scent of the Lieutenant’s cologne. Anywhere he looks, it’s the Lieutenant all over again and Connor steels himself as a part of the wall that surrounds him crumbles. He moves forward.

(Has to move forward if he doesn’t want to let it fall to the ground completely. He hadn’t let it happen when faced with Markus’ words and he can’t let it happen now, either. His mission, the most important thing.)

Sumo whines, but he doesn’t move from where he lays in the corner of the room and Connor knows that something isn’t right. That game he remembers, the image of the gun laying on the Lieutenant’s kitchen floor already burned in his mind.

He’s not wrong, it seems, because as he steps further inside, there it is - and there he is. Lieutenant Hank Anderson, signs of emotional distress detected. Potential danger to himself.

(And the wall cracks yet again.)

“I was worried about you, Lieutenant.” The words feel like a lie. He is a machine, there is no worry to be found inside of him - and yet it’s the most honest he has been for a while. “I came by to see if you’re alright.”

When Hank looks up at him, Connor wonders if this is how humans feel looking into the eyes of a lifeless machine. The Lieutenant’s normally mirthful eyes are now devoid of any spark, empty and so, so desperately sad.

(Another crack.)

The Lieutenant says nothing and so Connor has to carry on. “You should stop looking at that photo, Lieutenant,” he says, with no hope that it will work. “Nothing can change the past… but you can learn to live again. For yourself, and for Cole.”

He doesn’t expect a response. The warning still blinks in front of his eyes, potential danger to himself danger potential danger to himself potential danger -

“For a while there, I believed in you, Connor.” Another warning as Connor’s thirium pump unexpectedly stutters. “I thought you might restore my faith in the world. But you just showed me that androids are our creation. Creation in our own image. Selfish, ruthless and brutal.” Once more, their gazes meet. “You opened my eyes, Connor. Made me realize it’s hopeless.”

This shouldn’t be happening.

“Hank, I -”

“Now leave me alone. Go on, complete your mission, since that’s all you care about.”

This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening -

There’s red, surrounding Connor’s vision, and it startles him. Warnings. Warnings and reminders and realizations.

potential danger to himself danger; software instability rising; find and neutralize; the mission; potential danger danger danger Lt Hank Anderson why is this happening

“Get out of here!”

The Lieutenant’s shout is what finally clears up Connor’s vision - though it’s hardly a relief. His eyes fly open as he stares at the Lieutenant; as he tries to decide. Conflicting orders and this time selecting his priorities is not as easy as it used to be. The mission, he reminds himself and yet when he finally turns away from the Lieutenant, he feels completely lost.

The walk through the house seems to take ages, even though in reality it’s only a minute and twenty two seconds. Once he’s outside, once he feels like some of his sensors can finally relax before they’re completely overloaded with all the information (the emotion), that’s when he hears the loud bang from inside the Lieutenant’s house. A gunshot, his analysis software helpfully supplies.

Find and neutralize the deviant leader. The reminder taunts him and he knows that the mission is the most important thing, that he will not rest until he accomplishes it, he knows -

He turns around. The wall crumbles completely, red virtual bricks falling apart around him as he rushes into the Lieutenant’s - Hank’s - house.

#smolalienbeewrites #hankcon #dbh #detroit become human #hank anderson #connor #rk800 #machine!connor #hank x connor #connor x hank #tw: suicide #tw: suicide attempt #i cannot believe im writing dbh fic in 2022 #what happened to me #who am i #i thought i was done with this #BUT APPARENTLY NOT #sigh #this is fine im fine

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heraldofzaun · 3 years

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Hi. We’re doing this again. I’ve already spoken a little bit (well, a great bit) about how old lore Viktor wasn’t a stereotypical evil villain, but I keep seeing this interesting trend crop up - especially in the comments of analyses on Viktor’s character - and so I’m going to write about it. That trend is the fact that people seem completely and utterly convinced that only old Viktor “augmented without consent” or “didn’t respect free will” or similar mad-scientist-adjacent claims. This isn't true. The inverse is true, actually.

What follows is the entirety of Viktor’s old lore (I’m using the first - the second variant is the one that snips out his going to the Institute of War, I’m not trying to pull a trick on you or anything), his lines upon release (which are still technically canonical, even if many people believe them to be outdated - whether that is due to Riot still believing that they’re accurate to his character or, more likely, Riot not caring to replace them, I don’t know), and the accompanying blurb to his release comic. I am also including Jayce’s second lore, the one which Riot wrote after Viktor fans pointed out that Jayce’s original lore was contradictory to Viktor’s character. (Which is mentioned in the post I linked above. TL;DR: Viktor fans made such a fuss that Jayce’s lore got changed to paint Viktor as less of a villain, which again points to the fact that old Viktor wasn’t necessarily perceived as villainous by his fans. Of course, fan perceptions can be wrong - but canon was changed, so...)

This screenshot is missing his pick/ban quotes (“Join the Glorious Evolution.”/”Inferior constructs.” - ban quotes were added after his release, so they recycled one of his attack lines) and the quotes for Chaos Storm (“Obliterate!”/”Consume!”/”True power!”/”Behold!”). This is because it didn’t fit on my computer screen nicely.

This was written alongside Viktor’s teaser comic. (I personally really like the teaser comic, even though I’m concerned about Viktor cutting a hole in his laboratory wall.) It is, technically, non-canon material as it was posted on the now-defunct forums rather than anywhere on the client, but as we’ve seen a recent trend of Rioters Word-of-God’ing facts about canon, I may as well include it. There may be more Word-of-God confirmations on those forums as well, but the backup site that they’re currently hosted on doesn’t allow for searches as the original site didn’t either. You can find this on the “Development” tab of Viktor’s wiki page, if you’re curious.

Is there anything in here, besides “Submit to my designs.” and a few other of his voice lines, which should be taken with the context that they were a) written in 2011 and are thus not the highest examples of character-focused writing and b) written under the context of these being things he is saying to opponents on a battlefield, that says “Viktor augments people who are unwilling”? I don’t see it. He isn’t an angel, sure, because he wrecks Jayce’s lab after the man doesn’t want to work with him, but… He’s mostly alright, at least when it comes to the claims I’m investigating. (Also, note that his acolytes are not specified as being under his control or anything like that - they very well may just be people he’s helped, who don’t want a strange man smashing up the lab they were helped in.)

An interesting side-note: Jayce’s first lore does seem to imply that Viktor murdered people, as he “staged a deadly raid on Jayce’s laboratory”. This is concerning. There’s still somewhat of that implication in the second lore, considering the whole “incinerating the lab’s meager security force” line, but I’ve never seen anyone in fandom over the years use that as evidence for Viktor being a murderer, which is interesting. There’s actual textual evidence you can point to to say that Viktor’s a morally awful dude, and yet no one pointed to it when it was canon...I’ve never seen it cited in any character analyses for Viktor, nor have I ever seen anyone make the point that it’s people that Viktor’s incinerating. Food for thought, I guess. Anyways, my personal take is this: it’s security systems, not people. It doesn’t quite make sense, in-universe, for Viktor to murder a bunch of redshirt security guards but only blast Jayce aside - and leave him with no lasting injuries, obviously. Out-of-universe, you can say that it’s because Jayce is a champion, but still… It really doesn’t fit. Of course, I’m an old lore Viktor fan and this is entirely me trying to justify that he’s not a bad guy, so you can definitely take my words as biased. As we’ll see later, even if you take this as proof that old Viktor’s a killer, it doesn’t mean new Viktor is morally spotless.

Also, if you speak a language other than English and want to kill time, feel free to write in with what Jayce’s old lore says he did if you can find a translation of it. (If you go to the League wiki you can find other language versions of it, and from there you can poke around on Jayce’s page to see if it even has his older lore at all.) The Polish version apparently doesn’t imply people, but the Russian version uses “guards”... or so I think, my knowledge of Russian is pretty small so it was me and Wiktionary against the world. I think that League lore translations, especially from 2011, aren’t exactly the best material for textual evidence, but it’s an interesting curiosity. (I’m genuinely fascinated on how this was never a point of argument, and also to the fact that it was made much more ambiguous in Jayce’s post-outcry lore… but not removed.)

Anyways. Of course, you can take his lines and general character to a logical endpoint and say that it is implied that he doesn’t care much about whether or not people consent to the Glorious Evolution, but at that point you’re arguing interpretation and need to say as such. The cases I’ve seen in which people say that old lore Viktor was lopping people’s limbs off without consent or what-have-you just say that, without citing any textual evidence or saying that it is possibly implied by his character and lines. It’s pretty hard to take those claims seriously when there’s much more textual evidence that current-canon Viktor doesn’t seem too keen on respecting autonomy. Let’s begin with his own lore, which is written to favor his perspective.

Please keep in mind that this Viktor got his start selling automative technology to businesses in Zaun. The Zaun that is full of corrupt chem-barons. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he only sold to good businesses. (Also, fascinating that a common complaint about old Viktor is that his status as a pioneer of his field is that he’s “unrealistically accomplished”, and that other people would have figured out the same technology - just as it seems to be the case in current lore, with the Church of the Glorious Evolved existing pre-Viktor (except that it probably didn’t at the time of this lore’s release, as there’s a paragraph later on in his lore that talks about a “quasi-religious cult” that is unnamed but… Who else would it be?) and augmentations being common on the NPCs on the Universe page. Yet someone who’s 19 having their inventions be commonly used in Zaun long enough for the term eventually to be used in reference to the next stage of their life is perfectly acceptable. Anyways…)

What we see from this is clear: even if there is a “good” reason to control the divers, there is no mention of them consenting to the procedure. Considering the previous quotation, Viktor seems to deal more with the bosses than the workers and doesn’t seem to consider the potential job-removing impacts of his work (how many people lost jobs due to being rendered obsolete?), which doesn’t bode well for him caring much about what the workers think. But of course, this aside about dealing with bosses is all interpretation, so you can ignore it if you’d like. There still is, however, actual, textual evidence that new Viktor does not care about consent if he believes his idea is what’s best for you.

Ignoring the writer misusing the term “psychotics” - par for the course in fiction unfortunately - here’s Viktor kidnapping people “for their own good”. Nothing is said in his lore if he’s contracted to do this, or if he’s just Zaun’s version of a Good Samaritan out and about chloroforming people. While I’m not saying that the moral choice is to not intervene, he is drugging people here and performing brain surgery on them. Please note the “in a manner of speaking”. What does that mean? Is it in reference to them having permanent brain damage? Or is it in reference to him being all well-and-ready to transfer their bodies into robots that presumably weren’t designed for them? (Speaking of, if Viktor can transfer the consciousnesses - or at least brains - of people… why is he still in a fleshy mortal body? Yes, it would require a VU to update him to be fully robotic, but none of his written media seems to imply that he’s on his way. His color story has him integrating technology directly into his arm, for example. Why aren’t you getting into the robot, Viktor?)

Anyways, two options here: either the automatons had enough of their former programming to react to Viktor giving a kill command, or the consciousnesses of the people Viktor is “saving” are in these robots and are under his sway enough to commit murder. Either is bad (and negates any moral superiority over old Viktor’s maybe-implied-canonical-murder), but the second is horrifying. And, obviously, non-consensual. (Because the damage is reversing, I don’t believe there’s room for a justification of the second option in which these people are still violent and dangerous.)

Anyways, last bit. It’s pretty bad when your ethics are panned in Zaun, the nation host to rampart corruption and also people like Singed. Let’s now move on to his color story, which is what a lot of fans point to as evidence for new Viktor having a heart or a moral compass.

Yay! Moral win: your cyborg isn’t cutting off the head of a child without his consent. (Also, again, is this proof that Viktor can put brains or consciousnesses in robot bodies? Admittedly, he might be joking since this Viktor is a little softer than he is in his biography.)

Moral… win… your cyborg is augmenting a child… Anyways, joking aside, this is unethical. How’s Naph supposed to consent to something like this? I know that we can’t expect fictional characters in a fantasy setting to abide by modern ethical standards, but I think we can critique them from an out-of-universe context. This is bad. Viktor gives very little context, could very well be lying (he isn’t, hopefully), and sends the kid off with his version of a pat on the back and tells him to come back if he wants more. (The “Oh yes” is also… creepy.) A kid’s decision-making abilities aren’t developed to the extent that they can be reasonably expected to understand or consent to a procedure that removes a pretty crucial emotion. If Naph comes back and wants his fear gone permanently, will Viktor oblige?

Also, fear is something that is very important to survival and judgment calls. Without fear, a kid in Zaun might take dangerous risks that could end up with them dead. I can’t really see how people interpret this as a morally sound decision - Viktor’s pretty much giving mood-altering drugs to a child and telling him to come back if he wants another hit. Just because he got Naph’s okay doesn’t mean that he got informed consent.

Let’s now turn to the black sheep of Viktor content: his Legends of Runeterra lines. There’s two of interest.

Armed Gearhead’s card art is of a man whose only augmentation is his arm, which he says he broke in another line. (I suppose he didn’t want to wait for it to heal?)

Viktor is talking about messing with his head, here, because Armed Gearhead is… too emotive, I’d guess. He is “not yet complete”. A statement which Armed Gearhead seems rather apprehensive about, if you listen to his response.

I know that LoR Viktor is one of the more “comically villainous” depictions of Viktor we’ve seen, so if new Viktor fans would like to ignore his lines I have no issue with that. But these lines certainly seem to imply that what Viktor sees as Armed Gearhead’s end state isn’t necessarily what he sees as his, and should be considered if people want to take them as canonical.

Not necessarily needed, but here’s Jayce’s present lore. One of them is definitely lying - Jayce’s lore says that he doesn’t strike until after Viktor gives the kill order, and Viktor’s says that he gave the kill order in response to Jayce smashing up the lab. Either way, Viktor is ordering automatons (that, in this version, are outright stated to be housing the brains of the people Viktor is trying to keep alive) to kill Jayce. Not a good look.

Viktor’s new lore gives significant textual evidence that he doesn’t care for whether others willingly consent to his ideas, so long as he believes that his ideas are for the greater good. This is in contrast to the vagueness of his original lore, meaning that any individual who speaks about how current Viktor is someone who cares for consent in contrast to the “unethical mad scientist”ness of old Viktor is unfortunately mistaken. I have to imagine that general fandom interpretation, combined with the fact that his bio and color story are very tonally different, have made it so people believe that this version of Viktor is much more ethical than he canonically is.

Interpreting Viktor as sympathetic and actually morally grey is fine, of course! Riot wrote his narrative very poorly when he was updated, which is why I’m still finding bones to pick with it in comparison to his original and more open-to-interpretation lore. The issue is stating that this is canonically the case, which it isn’t, and/or stating that the current iteration of Viktor has the moral high ground over his previous incarnation, which he doesn’t. I think that much more interesting character conversations can happen if people acknowledge that Viktor as he’s currently written is roundly unethical - how can that be improved upon for a more complex character, does that mean that Jayce’s behavior was right, etc. For all my dislike of new Viktor, I’d be genuinely curious to read a take that actively acknowledges his pre-college work in automation and how that affects his standing in Piltover and Zaun. (Is he well-known in industry? What do workers think about him? And so on…) And, well, on a personal note: I think that acknowledging current Viktor’s moral failings would be nice, because it would mean that people would stop using old Viktor as a strawman.

Anyways, I suppose that’s the post. Thank you for reading!

#headcanons | beneath the mask #//back at it.

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filmjrnl365 · 4 years

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#152 Helter Skelter (Heruta sukeruta) (2012)

Director: Mika Ninagawa

Japan

“We’ll be forgotten, We are machines for the processing of desires.”

“The most fascinating thing about stardom is that it is a kind of deformity, like cancer. A fascinating face in a state of collapse.”

The whole time I’m watching this, I kept thinking about Andy Warhol. This is not a film about the sixties or pop art, but on the phantasmagoria of consumer culture. It’s an old tale – the misfortune that seems to come as part of the dual package of beauty and power. For our main character Lilico, vanity is all consuming; it is the product and process her identity is entrapped in. The emotional / psychological pressure of manufacturing endless prurient fantasies eventually gives way, and comes crashing in upon Lilico’s psyche. It’s an old story, and in this film, one that is not given any real new twist.

What is remarkable about this film is the way it looks. From the opening shots to the end frames it is a visually stunning spectacle. A lush, glossy, neon infused, hyper fabricated spectacle that allures and transfixes the viewer. Every seamlessly perfect photoshopped beauty that stares back at us from a fashion magazine, becomes an important catalyst in this film. The movie becomes a two hour demonstration on the vulgarity and power of beauty, and the control it exerts on the monetization of our desire. Being fashionable could be the downfall of this film. It will probably get dismissed as adolescent, self-consumed, too beautiful and picturesque for its own good; visually too gorgeous on its surface to be taken seriously, too coy to deliver any depth of meaning.

But, hold on a minute. Let’s not forget the main point here. Despite its somewhat predictable storyline, what the film really offers us is seduction. The alluring power of beauty and flawless sensuality. This is escapism. It is what movies have been peddling from day one. It is what fashion keeps dangling in front of its audience – a chance to transcend the ordinary, the ordinariness of ourselves. The mechanisms of spectacle and appeal are like sirens luring men to their watery deaths, the pursuit of desire and beauty becomes all-consuming and the self gets lost. We have seen and experienced this before, and this is what keeps bringing me back to Warhol. Andy Warhol was fascinated by the process and spectacle of fame. The careful manicuring of a dream that is maintained and propagated through the repetitious images of glamour fed to us through media. Repetition and verification help sustain this illusion, and the film’s extensive use of mirrors and reflection emphasize the idea that we the audience, as well as Lilico herself, are transfixed by the power of the image. Much like the Narcissus caught and absorbed by his own reflection, we succumb to the intrigue of the elusive entity – something more perfect, unobtainable.

These reflective mechanisms are exactly what this film delivers. In many ways, its storyline is secondary. One could turn the sound and subtitles off and still be enraptured by the visuals alone.

When we are not bombarded by the lushness of beauty we are pounded by spotlights and strobes, light directed at us as much as a model or a patient on a table. The reverence of the image, the worship of obtainable beauty is given a subtle reinforcement by the religious icons / idols scattered throughout Lilico’s sumptuous neo –Rococo apartment. Perhaps they might just be cheeky props, but there is a serious comparison to be made here. Lilico has an entire wall filled salon –style with images of herself. There are also images of Christ and Mary, their eyes redacted out with black bars. Idols that can see and idols that can’t. A not so subtle correlation to our character, but religious tokens blend well into the glittery décor. Nothing is off limits, not even the sacred – after all what could be more sacred than desire?

Lilico is a monster, an expensive creation born of syringes and expensive clandestine surgeries. she is a creature, a machine programmed for a single task –to disseminate beauty. If successful, fame and popularity are the byproduct of this transaction. But it is a risk that comes with a hefty cost. The ultimate price to be paid for recognition is that of becoming irrelevant, obsolete – no longer the subject of adoration. The film sprinkles in clips of armies of adoring fans, who at any moment can shift their allegiance from praise to scorn. Vicious, vindictive teen age girls, exact a kind of character assassination on their own idol. Where they once manically parodied every tangible nuance of their idol, they now recoil in revolt and en masse move on to the next diversion.

Glamour must be seen to survive, it is relational in nature. This is its one liability. And when it is ignored, it essentially dies. This is the emotional trajectory of Lilico. The rest of the film’s story and characters serve as warnings against vanity’s inevitable downfall. We have built entire cultures / societies on the pursuit of fantasy. It is a monster we have created. It is an idol offering transcendence. This is how beauty wages war against death.

“If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There’s nothing behind it. “

filmjrnl365.tumblr.com

#mika ninagawa #erika sawajiri

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cucuxumusu · 4 years

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Cheeky Intruders by MagellanicClouds

(29k | Teen and Up | Complete)

Ex-Espada Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is just trying to live a quiet life as a motorbike mechanic far away from the eyes of Aizen and the Las Noches Corporation. Unfortunately, the determinedly friendly freedom fighter who smashed his way through his garage’s windows can’t seem to take the hint.

Cyberpunk at it’s finest with that blade-runner vibes. Cats and cat cafes which are always a plus. Mature and cool Ichigo who wants revolution, and a Grimmjow too tired of the drama.

Unexplored Worlds by ShadowThorne

(18k | Mature | Complete)

Set in the future, a young field biologist gets the opportunity of a lifetime and a chance to explore a new planet. Little does he know, what awaits is more than he expected in a world not meant for humans as his dreams are shattered and rebuilt.

Just awesome. One of those sci-fy fics with horror and creepy vibes. Humans think they are better, but they actually aren’t. Cool alien Grimmjow you don’t know if you can trust. Ichigo is constatnly on the verge of dying.

Repeat the Discovery by Depressed_Lemon_Bite

(12k | Explicit | Complete)

“You are my t’hy’la, Captain. You always have been. From the moment you entered my life to the moment I take my last breath, that feeling will follow me even beyond the grave.” “I’m…I’m your what?” Ichigo began, frowning softly and licking his lips, “Thigh-what?” “T’hy’la,” Grimmjow corrected, the arms folded behind his back being clawed by his antsy hands, “T’hy’la is…the only thing in my culture that I take seriously. It’s a word used to describe…a very important person. It has three meanings: friend, brother…and lover.”

What’s a sci-fy fic’s list without the Star Trek AU. IchiGrimm. Grimmjow has a hand kink, he is also Vulcan and a mess with feels. Sweet smut. Kind Ichigo.

The Forest by BleachFox

(8k | Teen Up | Complete)

When the surface world was destroyed by toxic chemicals, the PEACE Project began. Their job? To restore the Earth’s atmosphere. Decades later however, no progress has been made and humanity is nearing it’s end. So they activated the ROOT Program, leaving humanity’s greatest mind in the hands of their AI in the hopes the solution would be found.

Sci-fy thriller. If you have watched “I am Mother” this one starts with the same premise of apocalipse and world destruction. Short and bitter-sweet.

Counterfeit Wings by ShadowThorne

(33k | Mature | Non-Complete)

Far in the future, humanity has outgrown its bounds. Becoming obsolete, the earth is slowly dying as we forget what solid ground looks like. Not everyone has forgotten though, and curiosity can be a beautiful thing. Two young men as different as earth and sky refuse to let the creations of society stand between them and what makes them happy. GrimmIchi.

Like all of Shadow’s fic, awesome worldbuilding that entralls you. Huge social diferences that need to be overcome. The kind of fluff that makes you cry. Let them be together!

Bloodsport by Asuka Kureru (Askerian)

(21k | Explicit | Non-Complete)

“Heeeey. I’d recognize that hair anywhere. Ain’t you the fucker who keeps cockblocking my shots?” The last place Ichigo wanted to hear about his hair was in an alien forest on an alien planet in the middle of a quote-unquote “polite” standoff with an Arrancar hunter squad, and the last fucking person he wanted to hear it from was some asshole with hair as vividly blue as his own was orange. He said nothing, though. Fourteen months under Captain Quilge Opie of the First Jagdarmee Regiment had broken him of opening his mouth unless addressed by a superior, and the Arrancar wasn’t that.

Military Sci-fy + psy powers + alien forms. Read the damn tags before reading. Kinky smut. A bit wild but interesting. Aizen enjoing science. Enemies to enemies. Forget the love in this one XD

Earth Renewal by Cucuxumusu

(75k | Explicit | Non-Complete)

After years of surviving alone among wild breath-taking nature, Ichigo finds himself persecuted by an Arrancar, one of the creatures who had enslaved humanity and destroyed civilization. The hunt had already been going on for a month, but Ichigo know his tricks have a limit and he needs a new tactic to get rid of the handsome monster. But why is this one blue-haired man so obsessed with capturing him? Will he ever find out why Arrancars had invaded Earth?

Shameless self-promotion, so I’m not gonna say anything XD

#bleach #grimmjow #grimmichi #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo #grimmjow jeagerjaques #sci fy #bleach fic rec #grimmichi fanfic rec #lets see if this fucking works for once!!!!!!#fic rec

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the-entertaining-spacemans-club · 3 years

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Insulting Romance

A/N: Let’s kick this blog revival off with a holiday appropriate shitfic eh? It’s an old one from the depths of my google doc hell, and it’s involving a mixed up ship mess from a very old dead multi-fandom roleplay forum. Characters involved: Dean (SPN Canon), Sam (SPN Canon), Maebh (SPN OC), Deadpool (Marvel Canon), Fives (Star Wars Canon), SD-630 (Star Wars OC). Warnings: none, there’s mild threats of bodily harm and sexual jokes but nothing actually happens.

“Hey, you ready to go yet? Sam is freaking out being alone with Maebh.” His voice echoed up the stairs with mild annoyance etching his words.

“I don't get it, isn't this weird earth holiday all about couples? Shouldn't he not want you there? Why am I being dragged along?” Her questions barely preceded her down the stairs as she asked them in rapid succession.

“It is, it’s a dumb ‘earth holiday’ but Sam likes her and I'm just in it for the free lunch and to keep him from being… Well, Sammy.” Shrugging he leaned against the lobby wall and occupied himself with his obsolete car keys oblivious to being watched from the stairwell.

“Doesn't explain why I'm going… I don't want to be stuck in some pink plastered café surrounded by grotesque displays of adoration and happy couples.” She made a fake puking sound as she came into view to emphasize her point.

“You jealous? That's cute coming from little miss ‘let me introduce your face to my fist’. C’mon, we’ll cash in on a free lunch, make fun of all the happy couples, and then go drown our loneliness at the bar. It’ll be fun.” Alerted by the proximity of her voice he looked up in time to provide a lop sided convincing grin before ducking to avoid the boot thrown at his face.

“I'm not jealous!” Closing the distance between them she grabbed her boot and stepped back to sit on the steps to put it back on. “I just like to keep my food in my stomach where it belongs. Republic Clones and Jedi are bad enough on their own, Republic Clones and Jedi in love, out in public, on a romantic holiday? Throw me to a sarlacc please.” She couldn’t have rolled her eyes any harder as she let her thoughts stray to the blonde Jedi that had stepped in and shoved her out of the picture with a certain clone captain that she had since been avoiding.

“Uh huh… Either way, let’s go, I'm starving.” With that he opened the door and stepped out of the apartment complex into the sunny streets of the island's main town.

“Still never answered me. Don't you have any other friends you could drag along to this torture?” Catching up to him she nudged him playfully.

“None that are single, and I'm sure Jett would just love if I invited Teal along.” Rolling his eyes and dragging out Jett’s name unfavorably he continued, “Which leaves Maebh, who’s already there, and, oh look, you. So can you lighten up just a little and have fun for a change? Or are you programmed to not have fun?”

“I'm a stormtrooper not a droid, I am perfectly capable of having fun.” With an almost growl like reply she nearly shoved him into a wall as they walked.

“Right, prove it then short stack.” Stopping at a door covered in hearts he grinned and opened it to a cacophony of slow soulful music, giggling chatter, and a familiar red masked mercenary singing along to Frank Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight.

“Damn, Wade outdid himself this time…” Ignoring the jab at her height, or lack there of standing next to the 6’ giant beside her, she scanned the crowded diner until she spotted the date they were crashing. “Look, there’s Sam and Maebh, so glad they took the corner booth, no one has to see me here with you on this puke worthy holiday.”

“See you with me? I’m the embarrassing one? Didn’t you wreck your chances with a certain clone by being the embarrassing one?” Swaggering along beside her he nodded and grinned at each person that looked up at the pair of them with expressions of confusion or shock.

“I did not! He was a pushover and that saber wielding witch used her damn dirty jedi mind tricks on him I know it.” She hissed as she slid into the booth seat opposite Sam and Maebh before narrowing her eyes at him for additional confirmation that he was being an idiot in her opinion. “You really know how to treat a lady don’t you?”

“A lady? Where?” He slid into the booth seat and immediately doubled over to rub his shin under the table. “Dude, ow.” His previous grin was replaced by a look of shocked indignation as he glared at his brother sitting across from, ignoring the muffled chuckling coming from both women at the table.

“That's not a very clever pick up line, no wonder you're single.” The blonde managed between her stifled laughs.

“I'm single. You're single. Coincidence? I think not.” he leaned over closer to her smiling broadly with a wink.

“Ok, if you are going to start that right now, you two are going to have to find your own table.” Sam coughed drawing their attention back to the collective group.

“Hey, you asked me to be here, I wasn't going to suffer alone. Besides, I figured maybe you could tell me, you ever danced with her?” His usual cocky grin secured in place as he asked.

“No… Why?” Sam, as well as Maebh and SD, stared at him with mixed looks of confusion and worry.

“I just figured someone that’s hot as hell, had to have danced with the devil a time or two.” The trio of groans were accompanied by howling laughter from the next table over, garnering their attention to see who was listening in on their conversation.

“Oi, Fives, unless you want to eat blaster bolts and leave your date with the check, act like this entire table doesn’t exist. Got it?” SD glared between Sam and Maebh at the clone trooper sitting behind them.

“Don't be like that SD, I'm sure your date wouldn't enjoy you taking time away from him to kick my ass today. I think it’s kinda sweet you found someone to share this earth holiday with.” Fives smiled while draping his arm over his own dates shoulder smirking back at her.

“My date?!” the rest of his words fell on deaf ears as her eye twitched in aggravation. “Move your ass Dean, I'm going to make him eat those words.”

“Ouch, shot down by the droid captain herself. Knew you didn't have a heart SD.” With a wink he turned back to his table and continued to focus on his date.

“I really hope you got health insurance Fives, cause you're going to need an entire hospital to help you when I'm done with you!” Trying to physically push Dean out of the way she was determined to at the very least punch the clone in the face a few times if not outright stab him.

“Hey, if you were a droid, at least you'd be a HOT-obot. Can I just call you Optimus Fine?” Wiggling his eyebrows in a jesting manner he tried to defuse the situation before SD really did get up to start a fight with Fives.

“Wow Dean, and I thought we would be the ‘gross cute couple’ present. That was just, wow man.” Sam shook his head as Deadpool sauntered over with a tray of drinks in hand to take their order.

“So what can I get the barbershop quartet of murder and mayhem today?” Setting down the tray, he handed a beer to Dean, a glass of water to Sam, and a soda to either SD and Maebh. Tucking the now empty tray under his arm he smoothed out his apron. It was a baby pink thing with red hearts printed across that worked better than Dean's latest pick up line as both women at the table started laughing, even Sam and Dean couldn't help but chuckle.

“We all know you don't do menus, so what's the special today?” Maebh asked after composing herself.

“I'm glad you asked! Today we've got every assortment of pasta you could imagine, I highly recommend the spaghetti to share,” even with his hood on, his eyebrows raising suggestively did not go unnoticed, “as well as all the usual dishes. I focused more on the desserts than the entrees. Sundaes, giant brownies, cheesecakes, basically anything you can imagine is being whipped up!”

“I don't know what ‘the usual dishes’ are… I'm assuming Earth food?” SD asked with one brow quirked displaying her obvious confusion at everything being said.

“Do you have Alfredo in that ‘every assortment’ of pastas? Been awhile since I had a good Alfredo. You'd probably like it SD, it’s just noodles and sauce.” Maebh gave her order and offered her suggestion to SD.

“Actually that sounds pretty good, make that two please.” Sam chimed in before Deadpool had a chance to answer. Without bothering to verbally confirm their order, he pulled a notepad from his apron pocket and jotted down before looking at Dean and SD.

“I don't even know what pasta is in the first place…”

“You wouldn't like Alfredo, it’s basically vegetarian. You’ll want something with red sauce, more meat.” Dean interjected knowing that someone with a love for carnage like the captain sitting beside him would not be a fan of anything even remotely vegetarian.

“So the spaghetti to share for the killer couple, got it!” Deadpool didn't give them time to reject his choice for them before he skirted away from their table shouting towards the kitchen “I NEED TWO GREENS PEACE PLATES AND ONE LADY AND THE TRAMP!”

“Oh hell, he better bring that out on separate plates I swear.” Dean sighed as he took a drink of his beer, grateful the mercenary always magically knew what everyone wanted to drink at least.

“Don't count on it.” Sam chuckled from his side of the table.

“While we're waiting, I got another question for you.” The second the words were out of Dean's mouth Maebh hung her head knowing no good was going to come from his statement.

“Uh, what?” Already not looking forward to whatever stupid thing he was about to say.

“Is that a mirror in your pocket?” With one brow raised and his shit eating grin back in place he waited for her answer.

“No?” Looking down at her pants oblivious to the punch line she wondered why he would have asked that.

“Because I can practically see myself in them.” His other brow raised as he mimicked Deadpool earlier suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“You'd have better luck seducing her blaster man!” Fives chimed in between laughs.

“Both of you can shut your mouths right now!” She hissed as it dawned on her what he said. “I only came along because you sounded so pathetic and desperate when you asked. This isn't a date, we are not involved romantically or casually, cut it out Dean.”

“Oh come on, lighten up!” Playfully nudging her shoulder trying to get her out of the sour mood she was in he added, “I just like to stay on top of things. Want to be one of them?”

“You're going to get stabbed-” Sam started up before Maebh interjected.

“Or shot.”

“Yes, or shot, and ruin the day for everyone here. I'm sorry he's like this SD. He's never had a woman actually say yes to spending Valentine's Day with him and it's clearly gotten to his head.” Sam explained trying to justify his brother's behavior and lower the tension.

“How sad, makes sense though.” She didn't elaborate and even looked out the window when she caught the confused look on Dean's face.

“How the hell?” He asked looking from SD to Sam and Maebh completely bewildered.

“Because on a scale from one to ten, you're a one, and I'm the nine you need.” A slight smirk crept across her face as she refrained from looking back at him in a poor attempt to keep from laughing. Maebh cracked up though at her retaliation and in turn she couldn't help but start laughing as well.

“Oh! The stormtrooper thinks she's got jokes! That's pretty cute coming from someone who must've sat in a pile of sugar.” He almost started laughing when she scooted over in the seat to see if he was being serious or not. “Because you've got a pretty sweet ass.”

“Tell me something I didn't know Darth Obvious.” With an amused snort she picked up her soda before noticing Deadpool coming back towards them with a tray of food. “Oh good, at least if your mouth is full you can't make anymore dumb jokes.”

“I got something that could fill your mouth.” He muttered quietly as he watched her start choking on her drink.

“What the kark!” Having nearly snorted out her drink through her nose she had to take a moment to get her breath back as Deadpool set out their plates.

“Alfredo for you, Alfredo for you, and please wait until you're back at your own place before you start choking on things that are hard to swallow SD, my other patrons don't need to see that.” Setting down their large shared plate of spaghetti he made a quick exit away from their table to go check on other lunch dates before SD could retaliate amidst the rest of their table laughing heartily.

Still coughing on her drink she could only glare at him as he walked off before she could reply or at least throw a knife at him. She knew it wouldn't have done any real damage to him, but it would have made her feel better that even he had gotten a jab in at her expense.

“Hey, calm down, you'll want to save your energy for tonight after all.” Dean grinned as Sam and Maebh groaned.

“Can you at least keep it clean so I can keep my food down?” Sam pleaded as he took a bite of his food and mumbled about how good it was, to which Maebh mumbled back around a bite herself.

“I make no promises, it's hard to keep it clean when you've got a health hazard sitting next to you.”

“Hey Dean?” The almost innocent nature of her question was concerning all on its own.

“Yeah?” Watching her nervously he had a nagging thought in the back of his mind to get out of the way but he stayed sitting anyways.

“You dropped something.” Looking past him at the floor beside their booth she kept up the casual tone and calm façade.

“What?” Following her gaze he didn't see anything and became confused. “No I didn't?”

“Yeah, you did…” taking advantage of him leaning towards the floor, she shoved him out of the seat before adding “your standards.” While he flailed futility to try and keep himself from falling, she took a bite of the weird mess of food sitting before her and grinned. “At least your taste in food isn't terrible.”

“You just called yourself low standard, you know that right?” He asked as he got back into his seat.

“I never said mine were great either.” She muttered as they continued to eat their meals with minimal conversation.

When their plates were mostly empty, and after a short battle for the last meatball, Deadpool came back around with drink refills. “And what can I get you all to satisfy your sweet tooth? Brownies? Ice cream? Both? Cake? Pie? -”

Almost simultaneously SD and Dean's faces lit up at the mention of pie as they perked up and asked “Pie?” Gaining them a chuckle from Sam and Maebh who both knew Dean loved pie more than any other food except maybe burgers. Looking from Deadpool to one another skeptically they spoke up at the same time again.

“You actually know what pie is?!”

“Pie is an Earth food?!”

“If I hadn't already met God, I'd think he was real now. A woman after my own heart.” He wiped away a fake tear as Deadpool took the moment to throw a handful of candy hearts in the air above them bringing both out of their shock to glare up at him in annoyance as the hard candies pelted them mercilessly.

“What the kark Deadpool! What are these things?” SD hissed as she picked one up and saw that it had words on it. “Cutie Pie? Is this some kind of joke?”

“The only joke here is that you might have actually found someone SD.” Fives piped up after being silent for too long. “Ouch! Those things hurt!” He ducked down before she could throw another one at the back of his head.

“So I think it's obvious they want pie, but can we get a Sunday please?” Maebh interjected before SD and Fives started up again.

“Of course! All the toppings?” He asked, looking at Sam and Maebh ignoring SD and Dean shaking candy hearts out of their shirts.

“Yeah? Sam?” She asked not sure if he had any allergies she should be considerate of.

“Anything you want, I'm not a big dessert person anyways.” Seeing the slightly dejected look at his words he quickly added “I'll still have a few bites though.”

“HEY SLADE I NEED A BANANA BOAT AND A COUPLE SLICES OF YOUR GRANDMA'S BLUE RIBBON!” He shouted as he started down the row of booths to take other dessert orders and shower more unknowing patrons with hard sugary treats.

“Seriously though, what are these things?” SD asked the rest of the table as she picked a few more up to read them. Pulling a disgusted face at one that read 'soul mates’ before flicking it away from her.

“They're candy with silly messages printed on them,” Maebh answered as she picked a few up to read as well. “Though there's some X-rated ones mixed in… not surprising coming from Deadpool though.”

“Hey, SD…” Dean held out a heart that clearly Deadpool had somehow managed to make and mix into the regular cutesy ones that read ‘nice ass’.

With a grin she picked through the ones on the table and held one up in reply 'eat me’. Of course she had meant it in a 'go fuck yourself’ kind if way not knowing it was intentionally one of the dirty ones mixed in.

“If you insist, we'll need that pie to go though.” Leaning closer to her he held out another ‘lets bang!’.

“I may not have a heart, but know a few other ways to get blood pumping.” She grinned as she spoke up enough for Fives to hear. The resounding sputtering of a drink was all the response she needed to start laughing her ass off. For additional effect, added for Sam and Maebh's benefit, while pushing Dean out of the booth she tacked on a “Sorry to have to bail on you guys early, but I can think of better places to enjoy a slice of pie among other things.”

“Wait, seriously?” Stunned by what was going on he didn't really have the mental capacity to object or question her as she flagged down Deadpool and dragged him along.

“What just happened?” Maebh asked Sam, equally confused.

“Dean just met his match is what just happened.” He chuckled as he leaned back into the booth seat to relax.

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years

Text

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

… Is another man’s treasure

Now to the second part for a wonderful anon! Enjoy the Feels!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

Nines had worked hard to gain confidence in himself. All his time in New Jericho he had worked for the other people there. He didn’t spend that long at the sanctuary to accommodate to his freedom. Without a life in slavery, or at least not one he had been allowed to remember, freedom wasn’t that difficult of a concept and not that overwhelming of a treasure to him. No, he had needed time to understand what Markus had meant when he said no one was without purpose and even more to build a fragile confidence. He still doubted it sometimes. There were days when he came back from work to sit in an empty room and felt lost. When he wasn’t working, what was the point of it all? If he was just killing time, then why had he ever left the landfill where he belonged? So far, he had managed to shake the feeling off by making the small flat his home. Plants that needed him for water, furniture that needed him to stay clean. They were small things, but it helped remind him in times he felt lost that if anything, they needed him. And then the next step was thinking of the next day, when he had to head back to work with the Detective…

They got along… kind of. On good days, they stayed professional, except for the occasional curse or a discussion getting louder than strictly needed. On bad days, Nines had to try hard to contain his urge to throw something heavy at the man. They didn’t particularly liked each other for the first weeks. The Detective had still hoped he could bully him away and Nines had still hoped for someone else to scold the man. Neither did happen, so they ended up begrudgingly compromising. It still wasn’t a companionship of the kind where you would agree to meet with a co-worker after work, but they didn’t hate each other outright. At least they liked each other enough to realise they actually were a very productive team with abilities that complemented themselves. A few close calls on the job, a few examples of trusting the other and lately a huge competitive ambition towards their cases as Gavin had found out they were close behind on Connor and Hank’s closed ones, had worked wonders and Nines hoped to think that they finally made it to friends. A friendlier tone from the human and accepted shipments of coffee to his desk seemed to finally prove it and Nines was happier than he would ever thought he could be.

A friend. They hadn’t called each other that yet, but Gavin didn’t seem to be a fan of labels anyways. Still, a friend. It made his insecurities take a step back and for the first time, he thought about his decision to leave the landfill as a good one to make. He wasn’t sure yet, but he was more willing to give this new life a try and not doubt any move he made with these poisonous words in mind.

You are obsolete. You aren’t needed. You are a danger and have to be disposed of.

With every day these words were shoved further back, but Nines would never forget them. His new experiences overshadowed the few memories he was allowed to keep, but these words lingered and only waited for an opportunity to rise again. Nines hoped that when that happened, he would have someone to look out for him. To help him realise they were memories of a life he was about to leave behind completely.

Right now though he had bigger things to worry about:

‘Detective, you are speeding.’ No answer. ‘Detective, not only is this a violation of the laws you are to protect, it is also a huge safety hazard as human reaction time is-‘ ‘Shut the phck up, tin-can.’ Nines had very early decided that he disliked three major things about the human: His smoking habit, him calling him names and him interrupting him at near any given occasion. ‘I just wanted to point out that-‘ ‘And I don’t give a damn!’ Four things. ‘Gavin, I get that you are frustrated, but how will speeding through the city help us in any way?’

The man gripped the steering wheel hard enough the leather was creaking. ‘I am frustrated, yes. And an android like you should know to leave me alone in such situations.’ He looked pointedly at him and turned into the DPD’s parking lot with far too much momentum. The Detective made a show of bringing the car to a halt abruptly, opened the door and slammed it behind himself. Nines’ LED flashed red for a moment, then followed the human, easily catching up to him with his long legs. He rushed past him to stop Gavin by pressing a hand against his chest and stepping back before the Detective could get violent. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’, he hissed, having understood the threat and not taking it. ‘I mean’, Gavin pushed back unrelenting. ‘that you are supposed to be the big bad robot that always knows how to handle a situation.’ ‘How do I get the impression you refer to more than me telling you to slow down?’ Nines knew that giving in just to avoid confrontation would never change Gavin letting his anger out on the people around him. This time he wouldn’t back down. ‘Hmm, figured that out all by yourself, did you?’, the human mocked. ‘What do you want? An A+ for phcking up an entire mission?’ Nines was honestly surprised. ‘You are blaming me for this? You are blaming me that our suspect fled the scene, our witness is dead, and the crime-scene left us with nothing because it was tempered with? You can’t be serious!’ ‘I can’t? Tell me one reason why.’ ‘Because if anyone of us is at fault at all in this, then we both are!’ ‘And that’s where you are wrong’, Gavin whispered low and dangerously enough for Nines to regret not having given in and taking the blame until the human had calmed down enough. He stepped closer, pulling at the android’s jacket to get him down on his level. ‘I am human’, he hissed in his face, near enough so Nines could feel the movement of air. ‘I make mistakes and I cannot process everything at once. But you! Aren’t you supposed to be the most advanced robot ever?’ ‘I am the superior model to the RK800, yes, but that’s no guaranty-‘ ‘Oh yeah?’, Gavin interrupted him again, letting go of his lapels and stepping back. He grinned evilly, spreading his arms to his sides. ‘So that’s why you ended up in a phcking dumpster?’

Nines went completely rigid, staring at the human as if he had physically hit him. His LED flashed brightly red and his hands were twitching in anger. In ice cold rage. How dared this mere human? How dared he shattering what he had build up just like that? Something inside him pulled the switch and the next moment, Nines had the man by the neck and threw him against the brick wall of the building. ‘You don’t know anything about me!’, he shouted, watching satisfied as Gavin groaned and pulled a grimace. That was only a fraction of the pain he himself felt right now and-

You are a danger.

Nines looked at his hands and the man on the ground. It was incredible how quickly his anger could switch to fear and panic, as the words came crushing down, incredibly red as if they were the walls of his programming that had to be broken. Walls that shouldn’t exist. Or should they?

You are obsolete and should be disposed of.

Nines ran.

‘God… phcking… toaster…’ Gavin cursed as he finally managed to get up. That would most definitely bruise. ‘Damn phcking piece of metal shit… Has one hell of a punch.’ He very well knew he coud have ended worse, if the thing actually wanted to kill him, but he doubted it. ‘Hey, Nines, you okay now? Vented your frustration?’ He looked around the parking lot, but couldn’t find a trace of the bot. ‘Alright’, Gavin sighed. ‘To everyone his own. Leaving me to write the report for this goddamn mess, of course. Like hell one of them sticks around when they are actually needed…’

He went inside, trying not to move his shoulders too much. No one had to know he had been decked by one of the RKs again. He sat down on his desk and started the terminal, pointedly ignoring the curious looks of anyone in the bullpen. He had loaded their case file so far and continued noting the events of the day.

He managed to get the first few paragraphs done until someone stepped up to his desk. ‘What do you want?’, Gavin barked, not looking up from his screen. ‘Where is Nines?’ ‘What’s it to you Connor?’ ‘Gavin.’ The other android pulled his chair towards him, so Gavin had to look at him. Gavin hadn’t forgotten how intimidating puppy-eyes here could get, but to see it again was something completely different to remembering it. ‘Gavin, what did you do? Where is he?’ ‘He went home early’, Gavin snapped at Connor, the lie flowing easily from his lips. ‘The mission went wrong. Probably wants to sleep it over or whatever you androids do instead of drowning yourself in alcohol. Because that’s what I would do!’ ‘And you ever so generously agreed to return to write the report? Sorry, Reed, I don’t believe that.’ ‘Hey, asshole, it’s not like I have a choice! One more misstep Fowler throws me out! And your asshole superior model simply phcked off. Didn’t exactly ask me, just ran off. Now I advise you to do the same unless you have a real good reason to keep me from working!’

Very reluctantly, Connor let him be and Gavin got back to his report. He finished it without further interruptions and looked at the clock before uploading it to the databanks. It was near the end of his shift, maybe he should really just call it quits for today and get a fresh start tomorrow. Maybe use his free time at home figuring out how to apologise to Nines come morning. If he realised once while writing the report, then that really neither of them were at fault. They had been called to the scene first, the witness had been told to wait for them. How could any of them had known someone ready to commit a second murder would come to get rid of any traces of the first, if they were not one and the same person? Gavin and Nines had arrived as the witness had already been killed and the suspect was on the run far out of reach of both police officers. Gavin knew he had been wrong to start a fight with his partner over this, he had been frustrated and the complaints about his driving had just been that last drop to make his anger spill. But he would never admit that to anyone. He would simply apologise tomorrow, and they would get back to work. As they always did.

But what if he had done it again? His anger issues had driven away a lot of people already, maybe the android had finally realised he wasn’t worth it? Maybe tomorrow morning he would be alone again, because the RK900 asked for a rightfully deserved transfer? Maybe-

Gavin sighed, finding himself next to his car ready to drive home. No maybes. He couldn’t risk losing another partner, especially not one who took so much of his shit and made it a challenge. No, he couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning to apologise, he would drive to Nines’ flat and apologise right away.

Only that when he finally stood in front of the door and rang the bell no one answered. He pressed the button again and held it, but still no sign of movement in the flat. That made Gavin get back to something he swore to never, ever do: He called Connor.

‘Hey, dipshit, is Nines with you?’ ‘No, why should he?’ ‘He isn’t home.’ ‘Why are you at his home?’ ‘Because we had a fight and I wanted to apologise, okay?’, Gavin near screamed into his phone. ‘What did you say to him?’ ‘None of your phcking business, plastic!’ There was a sigh on the end of the line. ‘Go to the Solid Waste Landfill’, he then said, sounding reserved. ‘Hey, asshole if you think I’ll wade through shit and dirt just you get a laugh out of it then-‘ ‘Reed! This is the most important thing in your life right now. If you don’t want me to kill you tomorrow morning, you will go there, and you will find Nines! Whatever you said, you can’t imagine how it must have hurt him. You will go there, and you will return with him tomorrow morning or this will be your last day on this planet, am I understood?’ ‘Yes, Jeez’, Gavin near yelped at the sudden threat, ending the call. Why the hell would the damn android return to this hell? Well, it didn’t matter now, Gavin had to drive up there now, if he wanted to see another day. Because he didn’t think Connor was bluffing.

Solid Waste Landfill had simultaneously become better and worse since all the androids had been rescued. For once it didn’t look like some nightmarish landscape with humanoid figures crawling and spasming and killing each other for parts anymore. Instead there was all the more trash and rotting matter to be found. At least one thing was easy know: spotting the only blob of white in the endless hills of rusted metal and dirt. He cursed, before skidding down the hills of trash to climb towards the android that was sitting on the top of one of them. His aching back didn’t help at all.

‘Nines?’, he asked cautiously. Being thrown off this hill would be far worse than against a wall. ‘What are you doing here?’ Gavin hadn’t expected an answer, but he got one: ‘Waiting.’ ‘For what?’ ‘For my battery to run out.’ ‘Oh, okay.’ Wow, what the hell, Gavin had not expected that. ‘May I ask why?’

‘Because they were right. I don’t know their names anymore, but they were right. They were all right. You were right too.’ ‘Hey, Nines, you’re making no sense right now. Why weren’t you home?’ ‘I am home, Gavin, I belong here.’ ‘Bullshit.’ ‘I belong here. I am obsolete, I am dangerous, and no one needs me.’ ‘Who the hell told you that?’ ‘I already said that, I don’t know. My first memories are of these words uttered by someone who I trusted. Maybe a handler, I don’t know anymore. I walked down into this landfill, hid and waited. Markus found me and tried to convince me it wasn’t true. That they lied to me. I wanted to believe him, but well, in the end it was him who was proven wrong.’ ‘Nines’, Gavin muttered, not really understanding what the android was saying but realising he had really phcked up this time throwing the worst thing he knew about someone right in their face whenever he got angry. He decided to walk up to him and sit down on the metal sheet right next to him. ‘Nines, that’s not true. You are none of these things.’ ‘Oh, really?’ The android laughed humourless. ‘How’s your back then? I hurt you, the one I have to protect. I am dangerous. I failed to catch the suspect or anticipate that the murderer would come back to the scene to get rid of the witness. Sounds pretty obsolete to me. And just look at me! An android without a past, without friends or family or memory, who would need that?’

‘I do’, Gavin said. ‘I need my partner and friend back on the job to protect my reckless ass from being shot. I need you because I won’t ever find someone else like you. I need someone who tells me when I am an asshole again and can defend himself from myself.’ Gavin didn’t like speaking his mind and this was no difference. So, he added: ‘Also I need you so Connor won’t kill me tomorrow.’ That made Nines look up to the human next to him. ‘Why would he do that?’ ‘Dunno. Guess he considers you his brother or something. I have no idea how family works with androids, but I’m sure he thinks that way.’ ‘Brother… You… You are not lying to me, are you?’ ‘You tell me, lie detector. Wouldn’t work telling you if you think I lie to you, would it?’ ‘I suppose not’, Nines mumbled. ‘And… The friends part is true, too? We are… friends?’ ‘Of course we are. What did you think we were?’ ‘I don’t know. I don’t know how this works.’ ‘Idiot.’ ‘Says the right person.’ ‘Got me there’, Gavin chuckled. ‘Now what? Will you let me drive you home now?’ ‘I don’t know yet…’ ‘Nines. I know I am an asshole when I’m angry, but let me tell you: You are not obsolete. You are needed. And you are dangerous, fine, but so is Connor, so am I and so is my damn cat when she’s pissed. No one needs any justification to exist or to be happy or to do what they want to do. Whoever told you that is an even bigger sack of shit than I am. You understand? Come on. Let’s get home.’

Gavin was immensely relieved, as the android stood up after him and followed him out of the landfill without a word. Just outside Gavin’s car he stopped, and Gavin turned. ‘Hey, don’t worry, I will heed the speed limit, okay?’ Nines just looked at him, before stepping next to him and pulling him into a strong hug. ‘Thank you, Gavin’, he whispered, and Gavin flushed red in embarrassment. ‘You’re welcome’, he pressed out. ‘But. Watch the back. Ah.’ Immediately Nines let go, face tinged blue. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot about that…’ ‘It’s fine, just…’ ‘yeah…’ ‘Ah, phck it’, Gavin let his defences fall and pulled the android in a second time. No one could see them, and no one would believe them anyways. Why not enjoy it?

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Not as fluffy as I wanted it to be but I still like it #poor Nines #Gavin why are you like this you don't just go and tell someone the trigger word when you phcking now it is it #He is such an idiot #But he is soft too

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rametarin · 3 years

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It is such a relief..

I really can’t overstate how relieved I am that you people can FINALLY perceive the disgusting nature of radical feminists. Speaking as a cis het man, you just can’t possibly know what growing up where they were a CRYPTID was like. Where if you mentioned them, researched them, butt heads with them, you couldn’t say shit without your female peers resorting to programming, seeing you as an enemy on part with “THE FRICKIN’ FROGS GAY!” guy Alex Jones, or automatically assuming you’re a Christian traditionalist, or a Reagan conservative, and then you get a permanent reputation as a shit stirrer and an asshole.

“Radical feminists? OH you mean, ‘those darn ole femnazis,’ right!? Oh how horrible, women driving cars, maybe even voting and doing MATH!”

So as a man, you’re compelled to say nothing. There’s nothing you can say. As a man, your voice and anything of reason you can contribute means nothing. Your reputation is already tanked by the vitriolic view of anyone that takes a negative position against radical feminism (Which unless you’re keyed in, people just take to mean, ‘very serious and studied feminist’, not just a couch activist) as a hater of women. You cannot win because the people so “against sexism” will not accept male criticism.

The relief that LGBT is no longer a special magical super-best-friends-club of oppressed victims like a meeting of diasporic elements before a fellowship is formed against The Evil Empire in a young adult novel, so it stops being a mental magical refuge and romantic hotspot for such fantasies.

The relief that women that have horrible experiences with radical feminism can use selective anonymity to tell other women about the differences between ‘feminism’ and ‘radical feminism.’ The relief of so many lesbians that may be, y’know, lesbian, but realize that lesbian is NOT synonymous with, ‘needs to hate or fear men’ and lesbianism doesn’t have to be taken as a religion or culture to be valid, and those cultures and religions that were made of them in radical feminism are actually twisted, manipulative tools, and bad.

That window of time before radfems became seen for what they were and when they were synonymous with feminism itself, where “feminism good,” “radfems are feminist” “disagreement with radfems means feminism flawed/wrong. and feminism good. So cannot be.” “individual bad radfems bad because their personal toxic beliefs do not reflect on all of feminism.” “yes radfems in the upper eschelons of feminism so what? bad radfems not reflective of good things. Discounted and ignored.”

Where just being an individual male with an opinion or view they didn’t like meant you represented all of the male sex/”culture” and they’d shun and insult and ostracize you for having it to make an example of you to other men, in order to “change the culture,” but one individual woman with shit opinions did not miraculously represent “female culture.” that needed verbal flogging and intolerance. Where making themselves hypersensitive and submitting to female group think (”sisterhood”) was considered a positive and beneficent tactic of group strength and unity and romanticized as positive, while more than two men together even coincidentally doing the same thing spontaneously meant an evil mob was forming.

Where those disgusting social constructionists tried to argue that sexuality WAS a choice and LGB was the right, progressive one. Where sometimes you’d catch glimpses of them excitedly telling you all about how the “evil male sex” would be made obsolete, replaced by ‘society’ figuring out how to kickstart cell division from single eggs alone and transplant chromosonal data from one person into the egg of another to kickstart fertilization without a male parent. About how “all murder, crime and theft and poverty comes from evil men in power. So getting rid of the men will mean more equality and equity among women!”

Hindsight is 2020 but at the time it felt so helpless watching young women joining these informal gradients going from shallow female equality advocacy to progressively deeper and deeper towards the heart of the radical feminist social power structure. Innocuous and benign and eternal things bridging to weird, cancerous, specific movements, philosophy and futurist beliefs among radfems. Being unable to say anything really of value, because the threat was always to your female peers’ egos. If they wrote you off as they’d been programmed to do, as a man it never mattered what you had to say. They’d be forever beyond your reach as they shutter contact with you as a peer. So the whole time they think they’re being sassy and hitting you hard by saying shit like, ‘the future won’t have men in it,’ you grit your teeth, smile and nod and don’t argue. You’ve seen what happens to the men that argue. Groups of women project him as the worst, dumbest person to mock and they just socially masturbate as a group over the effigy of a person they’ve made until they feel threatened by their continued refusal to submit and either leave or call authorities on them.

We’re talking, it was such a trope and cliche and so passe that even as a single digit kid, having grown up babysat by women with daughters approaching puberty and being taught by angry aunts or very educated and “progressive” family members, you could tell when one brushed shoulders and exchanged ideas and thoughts with one of these college educated radicals, and felt the need to project what they learned on their peers (usually you) to “educate” you. You can even see it in 90s sitcoms. Because... that’s a shadow, an echo, of what we were experiencing at the time. We could relate to that. Because we were living it.

Like, we make a big worry about the kids of today dealing with the bullying of intersectional feminism, the social constructionists that are trying to use transgender rights to push forwards state-based transhumanist ideas and policies incongruent with the whole, “trans rights” thing, trying to redefine not just what being transgendered is and means, but through their redefinition, redefining what it means to be cis and effectively ‘normal’.

But imagine how difficult it was when the conversation from on high came from institutional education, it fought the VERY poor opponent that was relgious communal or secular individual resistance, and no internet for either talking to other people or educational resources or information.

It was so frustrating at the time to be so mad and unable to express anything to anyone without the consequences alienating you further and painting you as the cultural target to rebuke or tell off, or worse, someone trying to “compassionately” make you see their bullshit about manhating as true and valid on the grounds that if it weren’t, the entire basis for their romantic feminism dries up. So it “MUST” be true.

Being stuck and isolated in your own peer groups locally, and any attempt to extend feelers to find like minds for reassurance seen as tantamount to joining a hate group. So, you fly solo if only to avoid the accusations.

Well. Like most things, it was endured and outlasted. Radical Feminism bisected itself trying to wield Marxist philosophical tools and was dispatched by trans rights out Privilege Theorying it.

Just. It must be nice where the deep, concentrated, “good and progressive” person isn’t a man-hostile person. Where the benefit of the doubt that radfems are just deeply wounded by evil asshole men and so their hostility is excused and forgiven has dried up. Where today’s young lesbians have more in common with young men and less incentive to hate them because “it’s a thing. deal with it. Millenia of oppression beneath patriarchy.” being synonymous with ‘lesbian culture.’

I can sit here and talk about the excesses and ridiculous shit. Like pathologizing doing art and stuff with menstrual blood, or the feminist/LGBT/pagan witch pipeline. And NOT be regarded as a crackpot just trying to, “speak bad of feminism.” Because proof and evidence of these things, beyond the clean and respectable and absolutely beneficent image that feminists represented themselves as just empowered, forward, conscientous women that loved everybody and protected minorities, exists. And I don’t have to worry even mentioning those things is seen as trying to poison the well for ideological purposes.

That is such a small thing but it is so significant. It was a gamble. But it paid off. Saying nothing, relatively, letting it play itself out. Watching it reach its natural conclusion.

But rather than the girls just reassess what they’ve said, experience life a little more to learn it’s not quite the evil male oppression dome depicted to them second-hand by trusted, accredited academics, they mature a little, lose the edge to their teeth and see every man as just an extension of this chimerical man-abstract to bite at.. Rather than just never speaking again of their ‘phase,’ silent forgiveness to every daughter picking fights with their father, brothers and male cousins, rather than that, the illusion and immersion ITSELF just up and capsized entirely. The entire culture ruptured and the heart and guts just came pouring out.

The more they were allowed to win in the social sphere, the less power culture vultures and the would-be radical revolutionaries had.

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dimmwriter · 3 years

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Malta 490-5

Universal Translators (UT) are one of the more critical devices that allow for alien species to communicate freely. They are located in the ear for most people but the location may change depending on the species’ physiology. Speech heard will automatically convert into the user’s spoken language, and anything spoken will convert to the receiver’s language if they do not have the technology. While I do not require one as the programming has already been included as part of my positronic database, officials from Starfleet and the planet Lenoah have been using them extensively.

Even so, it is not enough. The lenos’ language cannot be fully translated through the UT as a large amount of their communication is non-verbal. It has to do with the crystals embedded in their head--their “centers.” It displays their emotions as a series of flowing colors which has made statements such as “I disagree'' obsolete given that such things are openly shown. It has made communications between Starfleet and the lenos rather difficult, which is why I’m on the space station with them. I am acting as the lenos’ second voice.

A few generals thought that my job wasn’t necessary--especially General Zamani--but I see differently. I find it strange that the people who believe lenos should simply say what they feel are the same people who nod their heads in agreement or wave their hands in dismissal. It’s all the same really. To perform my assignment as a translator, I’ve memorized over one-thousand different colors as well as approximately five-hundred different combinations and their meanings. For humanoids this would take years to master (not to mention human eyes are unable to perceive many of the hues), I was able to achieve full comprehension in four minutes and thirteen seconds.

At least two of the five original crew members are always present in these conferences along with their planet’s government officials. Though Krona stayed on Lenoah in order to be a more direct voice for her people, I have been in regular contact with the rest of the group.

Currently, I’m spending my lunch break with Vron and Yingue, or at least trying to, “Why don’t you get something from the replicators? I assure you they can make more than the liquid rubber I drink.”

“Eating isn’t really something we do...in public,” Vron stated. “Either way I’m not hungry, the lights on this starbase are making me nauseated.”

“No matter then, we could move to a dimmer area if you all would like. I can drink this just about anywhere.”

Vron shared a glance to Yingue before agreeing.

I brought them to one of the many large viewpoints that looked outwards into space. These places were often dimmed in order to enhance the experience. Together the three of us sat and watched for some time in silence when Yingue turned to me.

“Is the body suiting you nicely?” she inquired.

“Quite well thank you, it’s a lot easier to maintain than an entire starship.” I decided to keep the fact that Starfleet engineers searched every part of my suit to myself.

“Actually, I wanted to ask how you kept up with the engineering on the Malta without a crew,” Vron stepped in, his center gleaming with curiosity.

I figured they might ask that, and I’m sure they won’t like the answer I’m going to have to give them, “I will have to ask my superior to discuss that, I will try my best to persuade him for you two.” Zamani would say no, I knew he would.

Somewhat heavy footsteps stopped at my side, General Zamani.

“Malta 490-5, walk with me to my office if you will,” he said in a low voice. “Sorry to take them from you, it’ll be returned shortly.” Malta 4 is simply an abbreviation of my name: 490 is my issued number while 5 is the edition of the Malta starship I was assigned to. Before my assignment with the Malta, most referred to me as 490. Can’t say that I’ve missed it.

His office was as cold and stale as ever, “I wanted to discuss the next meeting that will be held in a couple of hours.”

“Is there something wrong General?”

“Nothing is wrong, but I would like a few changes,” he said. Based on the way he was speaking, I figured that this request had little to do with Starfleet, but his own motives instead. “This next conference deals with matters of security that I feel uncomfortable sharing with...someone who doesn’t have the credentials.”

“You’re referring to me, correct?” It is true, I’m technically classified as an ensign even though I can perform at a much more efficient rate than organics. Becoming a lieutenant wouldn’t be too difficult if it weren’t for the fact that most people aren’t willing to test androids.

“Correct. As you might have guessed, this isn’t an order but a personal favor. Please do your best to make yourself scarce.” He stood and took a beverage from the replicator while I processed what he said. No one was really forcing me to go to these conferences; if I didn’t want to go, I truly didn’t have to.

Time to be bold, “And if I were to refuse?”

General Zamani paused from behind his chair before saying, “The choice is up to you 490,” he said. “The Malta shouldn’t be left docked at some starbase. If you’re too busy to pilot, then I can find someone else to take over. However, I’d be willing to put you back on your original mission and forget past mistakes.”

He couldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, but taking away my ability to space travel was purely his choice. This was a threat, and I have a theory as to why he wanted me gone: he hates androids and fears what would happen should they have too much power within the Federation. Prejudice was usual for someone his age, I was not surprised.

The General tapped his comm badge before I had the chance to retort and called Vron and Yingue into his office. I saved my words for their arrival and sat in one of the guest chairs. They took a minute and forty-four seconds to get here.

Vron and Yingue clasped their hands together and bowed at the hip while Vron said, “Greetings Zamani, what can we do for you and Malta 4.”

I decided to stay silent as the General explained the conflict of interest. The next meeting was about shield technology, which most seemed to know enough when it came to starships. Lenoah was offering to shield entire planets, however; planetary security shouldn’t be open to just anyone.

On a surface level, the lenos seemed to have no outward reaction to this request. Seeing as how rapidly their centers changed hue, I figured otherwise. “Have you brought this up with any of our diplomats?” Vron asked.

“I have not,” Zamani responded. “Thought it best to see how you officers would react first.”

“I don’t see the need for this change,” he continued. “It’s hard enough getting through your elongated speech, how will your people do when they can’t understand half of what we’re saying.”

“The decision is up to 490, legally only it can make a choice such as this,” he finished his drink, set the glass down, and sat back into his desk chair. “Feel free to discuss but keep in mind that time is running thin.”

“We’ll have to speak with Ali and Deligh before concluding,” Vron stated. “Malta 4 we will be in our shared quarters, please come by and let us hear your thoughts.” They turned and left without a word.

Zamani made sure they had walked away from the door to say, “These people don’t have many manors, do they? At least you refer to me as General.” I’ve tried explaining why they do not acknowledge rank often, he’s never been interested in what I have to say though.

I stood to leave, “Before I go, would you permit Vron and Yingue to examine the Malta? They are curious about my engineering functions and would like to understand how I manage without a crew.”

“And give away our technology, of course not. Dismissed,” he picked up a padd and began to scroll through the day’s reports.

“As you wish sir.”

I knew this would be his answer, and yet it didn’t prevent my disdain. I ended up turning off my emotion chip while leaving this office, no need for something that would only hinder my ability to work.

_____

“They’re taking away your ship?” Deligh asked.

“He’s planning on doing so, yes,” I sat with the lenos. “Without it, I’m uncertain what would happen once this is over.” That wasn’t entirely true, I simulated 387 different outcomes (of which only 13 had a high chance of occurrence) on my way here.

“Does that not violate a code of sorts?” Ali asked.

“Not exactly. Technically the starship isn’t mine, he had every right to reassign it so long as I’m given something to do in return,” I responded. “I would like you all to choose for me, pay my interests no mind.”

I took a quick scan of everyone’s centers only to find them in poor moods. They had a difficult choice to make: let me go but struggle through critical negotiations that required absolute clarity, or keep me here and take away my autonomy.

After a while of silent glances at each other, it seemed as though they came to a conclusion. Vron spoke for everyone as per usual, “It would be best for you to stay.”

Even with my emotion chip offline, I couldn’t help but feel a slight shiver down my person. “I understand.”

“We have to discuss this matter with our superiors,” Vron continued. “Try not to worry, we will do our best to come to a more desirable conclusion.”

I wanted nothing more than to believe them in that moment. They walked out confidently as if they had something up their sleeves but I found it difficult to care either way. The longer effects of having my emotion chip off began to set in and everything turned dull and numb. Mapping didn’t seem too bad at the moment.

#writer #writeblr #writblr #writing community #writing #wattpad #star trek #my writing #malta 4 #finally a new part!#this one is slightly shorter than the last #and that's because i decided to combine the my last point #with part 3 for coherency and overall effect #let me know if you liked it :)

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scoutxselkies · 5 years

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Hello everyone, I’m Beanie & it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you all! I’m very excited to bring this Walmart Deadpool muse to the roleplay! Under the cut, you’ll find some background information and character traits about Scout. Who’s ready for clone shenanigans, lost fingers regenerating in cafeteria chili, and zany mutant antics!?! :D

| B A C K G R O U N D |

🚑 Fellow mutants from the compound may know her as Seventeen, a nickname she stubbornly gave herself to draw attention to the cloning program she was created from. There were sixteen other clones deemed “successes” to varying degrees. However, each had been relocated to organ harvesting tanks once they were made obsolete by the creation of a superior clone.

🚑 Scout's project was an intended blueprint for future super soldiers, and thus she’s been combat trained to her limits. Not only could she totally give John Wick a wedgie, but she’s an excellent marksman and can march like nobody’s business. The program convinced her to strive for high performances by stating if she remained an “important asset”, then she would not be replaced by future clones. However, she realized years later that the scientists had lied to her.

🚑 Scientists improved the regenerative healing factor with each clone. Scout’s mutation is the most advanced they’ve produced yet, but the near-immortality comes with multiple drawbacks that scientists hoped to eradicate with the next batch of clones. Her younger clone, whom she calls Eighteen, is still trapped inside the compound.

🚑 Eighteen is a mere, nine year-old girl innocent to the bleak future of all clones and is often seen carrying a Mr. Potato Head toy. Since her grand unveiling, the scientists have pitted her against Scout in hopes a rivalry will encourage both their mutation’s development. Scout instead began exhibiting a protective, sisterly attitude that disappointed her creators. She preferred keeping Eighteen ignorant to the specifics of their future within the program, and was cautious never to misplace her anger upon Eighteen.

🚑 Scout was aware that the program couldn’t cause her permanent harm -- at least, not while she hadn’t been categorized as obsolete. No matter how gruesome the experiments or harsh her training, she knew that her mutation would keep her alive. Living a life of little consequence caused her to develop a facetious sense of humor that targeted scientists, guards, and her fellow inmates on the daily. She’s hardly ever serious, much to the dismay of others, and has repeatedly treated Thalia Kim’s endeavors like a joke. Scout occasionally cheered up Eighteen with trouble-making antics. Apart from that, her shenanigans were mostly for her own amusement and the only form of rebellion she could exhibit without jeopardizing her standing as an important asset.

🚑🚑🚑 tldr; local clone with john wick-tier combat skills & marksmanship lived under constant threat of being replaced by newer, improved clones. being deemed obsolete would mean a semi-conscious immortal life of floating in an organ harvesting tank. copes with stress, fear, and the sensation that nothing matters by being kinda a dick.

| P O W E R S |

🚑 for this blatant wanda wilson audition, i have given her deadpool powers

🚑 REGENERATIVE HEALING FACTOR: The ability to heal and regenerate oneself, even from life-threatening injury or presumed death. I think I wrote out her strengths and weaknesses best on her application, so I’ll drop a link to that HERE !!!

🚑 She relied on a specially designed painkiller while living in the compound to manage her pain, one of the drawbacks of her ability, and is running low on supply.

| L I F E ON THE O U T S I D E |

🚑 She escaped during the summer breakout three months ago, and is currently rooming with a reformed thief serving his final days of house arrest. Gilbert was seasoned criminal, occasionally rendezvousing with the band of villains when their needs intertwined. Scout’s presence technically break one of the terms of his deal: no unauthorized visitors allowed.

🚑 Gilbert was the one who came up with the nickname “Scout”; he caught her intruding in his house, rummaging through his pantry & eating his stock of Girl Scout Cookies.

🚑 Since her escape, she’s become quite fond of reality television (she’s a member of Bachelor Nation 😎 ), gummy candy snacks (Gushers and Trolli 4 life), and generally feeling entitled to having fun.

🚑 Scout avoids involvement with mutant politics and infighting, choosing instead to live an ordinary, civilian life that’s as mundane as possible. This is a final act of rebellion against her creators: the seemingly wasting of her mutation’s gift of near-immortality. Between her bouts of stubbornness, however, she grapples with questions about her existence, her purpose being alive, and cyclical guilt about her mutation.

| C O O L R A N C H P L O T I D E A S |

🚑 I don’t have any preset plots for her at the moment, but I’d love to brainstorm, check out everyone’s plot pages, & reply to a bunch of open starters to see how things develop organically! If you have any plots in mind or think Scout would fill a good wanted connection for your muse, NEVER FEEL SHY ABOUT MESSAGING ME~! <3 <3 <3 I promise I’m super friendly & am ALWAYS down to get #lit with character angst & silliness! :D :D :D I PROMISE THAT I’M JUST A BIG MEME!

🚑 I’m working on a premade plot page for her, and will probably post a link to it OOC once it’s ready! Until then...check me spying on all your muse blogs & sneaking into your DMs with plot bunnies! ;D

#selkie.intro

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sasukeslilkitten · 4 years

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because i still don’t have a switch, i won’t be able to play the new pokemon game. but i’m still pumped for it, i’ve been following it since it was announced & was first checking all the new data that was listed 5am the day before it released in america, & then checking again the release date & again today. Watching videos to have certain mechanics explained better & to hear people’s opinions.

I’m saying, I’m hype, & I will get the game as soon as I can. I am a little bit dying to play it, but not wholly dying because there are other things more important to me & other things I would die over.

Some Pokemon have me really pumped. Like I love the new Meowth & new Darumaka so much. I love the witch of the forest Pokemon & the ghost dragon. I love the new looks for Corsola & Yamask & their evolutions. No one asked for a new Linoone or Mr Mime, but I’m excited that we got them & those extra evolutions.

I can’t wait to make food at camp with my Pokemans. I can’t wait to experience the free camera & to set foot in the wild. I like that there are new & different ways to gain experience.

But I thought Pokemon like the new hungry Pikachu & Yamper were so weak. I’m honestly really annoyed we got another electric dog because we already had one?? I feel like that one in particular, sure, it’s cute, but it brings absolutely nothing at all to the table..?

I had watched one person’s review say they were disappointed that as Pokemon’s first new game for the Switch, they didn’t live up to the potential of the switch capabilities. I would have to say that I agree from what I’ve seen. Because I haven’t played, obviously I can’t attest to the game being good or bad

but what I wanted to mention is, Pokemon, being new to the Switch, would have a lot to learn about it’s capabilities & their abilities to develop games for the console. & yet, this wasn’t their first title for the switch. & some of you would probably think I am a fool for saying that, but I am sure others would be surprised. Because I for example, didn’t hear a single thing about the yellow remake. & yes, of course I would have been excited to hear about it. I was excited to hear about it about a damn year after it released.

I bring this up because I had been talking for many years, about ten, about how I figured Pokemon would end up remaking red & yellow even though red & blue were already remade. I figured we would need them aged up for the new systems because now the release for the game boy advance is widely considered obsolete. & when I finally saw the footage of the games, it was beautiful & exciting...

But I assume the reason no one was talking about it was because it only consisted of the original red/ blue Pokemon. Which is disgracefully totally, because even the fire red/ leaf green remakes were able to hold all three of (at that time) the current generations of pokemon. So I feel like, what the fuck is their excuse? & then I hear the big gimmick of that game is to get Go players & original pokemon Game Boy players back into the swing. But to me it almost seems like it spits in the face of long time fans? I’m saying sure, I want that game, & I’ll get it eventually because I want to re experience Kanto in more depth of what we’re capable of now. But I just can’t believe they would do that.

& on top of that, I had speculated, that because that one guy had said in an interview that not all pre existing Pokemon would be able to be in the new game & that we might not have a send over/ poke bank. I speculated that okay, maybe after the game has been released for eight months to a year we will get an update to allow more Pokemon or a new program compatible with Pokebank. Yet one of the videos I watched said there was a recent interview that made them lose all hope in that concept. My reason for my theory though was because I thought, during the initial release for x&y there wasn’t a pokemon bank for a year give or take. (maybe three?)

& the Pokemon send over is very important because the earliest I know of is Ruby & Sapphire/ Diamond & Pearl & from then on every game had it. So it feels really uncomfortable & disturbing to leave it out. & it also feels like if they were capable of doing it between a gameboy advance & ds, what’s stopping them now?

The person I mentioned who had complained that the developers seemed to pale their abilities on the switch complained about the graphics a lot. I think the graphics already seem so much better than Sun & Moon where some text & backgrounds were just flat out blurry for no reason. I think there were a few scenes like that in Black & White. I understand that when moving to a new console, there’s a lot to learn when developing, but many people agree, Sun & Moon was a god awful, poor excuse of a game that had so many problems & just overall didn’t feel remotely “finished.”

Aside from my hopes that they will create a new type of Pokebank &/or updates to being able to acquire all previous Pokemon, I hope we get another game for the switch down the line that won’t feel so foolish & unfinished after the ridiculous scam they tried to pull over Let’s Go & Sun & Moon. It’s so frustrating, because Let’s Go could have been a super hype game that had everyone playing if they didn’t just try to cut really weird corners.

I’m just tired of these half hearted Pokemon games... Especially after how much was put into x, y, alpha & omega.

#pokemon #the last four games mentioned appear to be even now superior to the newer #titles they're releasing

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purpleoffbeat · 5 years

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Cyberella

This is the old story of an unfortunate girl, who was treated like a slave by her step-family.

This is also a new story, one that cannot happen yet, a future fairytale for those who believe in the power of science.

This is the story of Cyberella.

Names matter not, for in the future everyone is catalogued by a terrifying string of numbers and letters. You are not the name given to you, you are yet another citizen in this incredible metropolis, filled with several dozen story-high apartment complexes, only reasonably reached by vehicles that defy gravity, an old technology of flying transportation, now several decades old.

Most still live that old-fashioned way of life, being born to two doting parents, living their whole life in an apartment fit for a small family. An unfortunate few are destined to live forever in the outskirts of town, where technology doesn't seem to ever catch up, where things are just a bit more difficult, but it's the kind of living the city-dwellers pity for a minute, and then never do a thing about.

Then there's those rare few who happen to be lucky enough to live in those regular houses, an ancient way of life nearly obsolete, now something only the most wealthy can afford.

It doesn't really matter how it came to be; what truly matters is the present. How a poor girl was unfortunate to lose both her parents and become the resident housekeeper (and metaphorical doormat) was nothing but another passing thought; the more pressing matter was the arduous chore at hand.

"How many times have I told you to update the house software! None of us have personalized A.R.T. Display management yet and it's all your fault!"

One of her step-sisters was once again complaining. Nevermind the fact that the last update had only come out that very morning, the Artistic Room Transmission Display had to be updated yet again and immediately.

"Cindy", as her step-family had named her, was just about to finish repairing the robot cook, but now a very different kind of task had just been imposed on her. Updating software was something even a 4-year-old could do. Tinkering with robots was so much more fun, even if they were part of the horrible daily routine. In fact, when given the very rare opportunity to take a break, Cindy would always read e-books about robotics, smart-house programming and occasionally networking. She swore there had to be a way to automatize all the robots in order to do her work instead, but it would be difficult making it seem she was working as always under the watchful eyes of her family.

Ah yes, family. A word that had lost all meaning since childhood. The ancient saying "you can't choose family" still held true today.

Yet again, someone was yelling at her. Thankfully, Cindy had learned how to tune out her family's demands while still knowing what she was told to do.

Throughout the house, you could easily hear the televisions, all tuned into one of the government-sanctioned news channels, and the newsman announcing:

"...has alerted through social media his upcoming birthday party, to be held in the Nightlife Nightclub, open to all young women who receive an invitation. It seems the event will not allow entrance to anyone else, and will last all night long, until sunrise. It seems the main purpose will be to find a suitable girlfriend and possible future wife for the "Prince". And now for the weather..."

Everyone had already expected this. The internet catches up on the gossip pretty easily, after all.

The "Prince" was none other than the oldest son of the current President. His real name, Christopher, was generally disregarded for the nickname he had received since young, "Prince".

The step-sisters had been talking about the event for far longer the news had bothered to. By now, Cindy was sick and tired of hearing about it. It's probably just another one of those irritating parties for shallow people to show off how shallow and superficial they are. Nothing of value to be gained from it.

All Cindy was looking forward to was having a quieter night, without her terrible sisters, but still with her mother. Maybe even go to sleep a little earlier, that would really be nice.

The day of the party eventually came, and with it the constant nagging by her family. She was ordered to help them with dressing up, putting on makeup and doing their hair, the usual every time they went out to some sort of event.

None of them looked particularly beautiful, but it was best to lie and pretend they've never looked so good, lest they decide they should give Cindy yet another sermon about respecting her family. How unfair, it seems they don't need to respect their housekeeper!

And they were off. Hopefully they would take a long time there. Their mother had already made it clear she would insist she belongs in the party, but it was obvious she would get thrown out quickly.

Cindy couldn't care less. Being home alone was a wonderful rare occasion, wasting this opportunity would be silly.

Just as she was ready to sit back and relax with a nice e-book, the doorbell rang.

Cindy grunted. It was probably one of her sisters, who must've forgotten something.

She reached for the door and carefully opened it, asking,

"Who is it?"

"A generous wonderer."

A cloaked stranger, just a couple steps away from the entrance. It couldn't be another one of those vendors, at this time of night?!

But then, the stranger removed the hood of their cloak, and Cindy couldn't help but gasp.

This stranger seemed to be an old lady, but most of her face was covered in visible circuitry, her cheeks glowing with the LEDs just under the outer surface of the skin. One eye was clearly an implant, but her smile was sweet and genuine.

"Good evening, my dear. I have come to change your life. I have all that you need for a magical night out. I have the clothes, the car and I have an invitation to that party for tonight. Will you let me in?"

Cindy couldn't believe it. What the heck was this stranger babbling about?

"Um, I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to listen to-"

The stranger put her foot in the doorway. A trick all vendors used, too.

"Ah, it seems you misunderstand."

With a sigh, Cindy opened the door just a bit more, but not so much the stranger could get it. Now, Cindy's whole body was visible, the old, ragged clothes, the messy bun her hair was tied in, the awfully dirty shoes. She looked like she came from the past. The 2020's, perhaps?

"Oh, my! Honey, the absolute state you're in! I will take care of you, I promise, please just let me in for a minute."

"Wait, hold on a second; who are you?! I am not allowed to let strangers in, but here you are, basically demanding I let you in?? I apologize, but I really cannot."

"Aha... Apparently, you still don't get it. Ever heard those kinds of fairytales where the poor girl dresses up all beautiful and has a happy ending? I am here to make that come true."

Cindy still couldn't really believe it. Surely, this was just another crazy old lady who doesn't even realize what she's saying, and-

The old lady then pulled a strange machine out of the pocket of her cloak. It almost looked like a phone, or tablet, but bigger and bulkier. It had a glowing hole at the top of it, clearly a modern scanner.

"With this I will give you the most beautiful clothes you have ever seen. Please, just give me a chance."

Almost like a reflex, Cindy opened the door further, watching the old lady tap on buttons on the screen of her gadget. Soon after, she pointed it at Cindy, who then started to glow as her clothes began modifying themselves. This was a very new invention, only reserved for the most wealthy. Clearly, this old lady was either a very important person in disguise, or she had somehow stolen the device from someone.

Either way, the transformation didn't take very long. Cindy was now wearing a beautiful blue crop top and a matching skirt. They were dazzling clothes, but also very easy to move in, which was perfect for a dance party.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The old lady hadn't lied!

"What is this?! How did you do that?!" Cindy was already more interested in how it worked than how she looked.

"It is all thanks to this, my darling. And I can make it so much better!"

The old lady was again tapping on the screen. Then, with the press of a button, Cindy's hair turned wavy and curly at the ends. As the mysterious lady handed her a small mirror, Cindy's hair also gained a few blue highlights, which matched her new clothes. Makeup suddenly appeared on her face. It looked just like it had been done by a professional. Beautiful dazzling accessories materialized on her arms and a necklace on her neck.

"Wow...! I've never looked this amazing in my entire life!"

"Oh, you poor girl. All young women your age deserve to feel this beautiful at least one in their life! But hold on a second, there's just one thing left..."

The last thing, her shoes, morphed and transformed into beautiful, glittering stilettos, which appeared to be made of glass.

"Now you're perfect. Your outer appearance finally matches your beautiful personality! Hahaha..."

"Wait, how do you know about me? Only mother and my sisters know about my existence... I have never met you! I need to know who you are!"

"Ah, you are just as curious as ever, my dear. You see, I used to know your parents. In fact, I was your godmother, before your step-mother took you from me. After your parents tragically died many years ago, I knew the right thing to do was to find you and help you. I work with the government, so I have access to the list of citizens of this area. They do not list your name, of course, but I knew how and where to find you due to the data logs with your citizen I.D. code. Does that answer all your questions?"

Cindy was flabbergasted. No wonder this strange woman knew so much about her! But more importantly, if she knew her parents, then she would know what happened to them!

"Oh, please, my parents, tell me what hap-"

"I know. I know... But today is not the right day to talk about that. We can discuss that some other time. Right now..."

She turned to let Cindy take a look at her car. It was clearly a flying car. Cindy couldn't remember the last time she rode on one of those!

"...We need to get you to the Prince's birthday party."

Cindy didn't even think twice. This was the best day of her life! She only took a moment to lock the door and follow the old lady to her car.

"Oh, by the way, honey, I refuse to call you "Cindy" like they do. What a terrible name to mock someone with!"

"Well, what is my real name?"

"Your parents named you Ella. And that is what I'm going to call you. And you can call me granny!" She laughed.

Ella! What a beautiful name. She had no idea she deserved such a wonderful name to go by.

"Granny" took off her cloak and got in the car along with Ella. Now, it was much easier to see the circuitry under her skin. Her left arm also looked like a prosthetic arm... It seemed she had cheated disease and death many times. Almost like a true fairy...

They reached the nightclub where the party was being held at. Granny handed her an invitation, and Ella was dropped off.

Ella had never been to a nightclub, and it was much more grandiose than she had expected. Lights and lasers of all colors filled the air, heavy with human heat and the loud music. Somehow, everyone seemed to be able to talk to one another anyway.

Ella expected to feel uncomfortable, but she had never felt so excited on her whole life. She immediately began moving to the beat on the dancefloor. All the girls were stunning, but none compared to Ella's natural beauty. She didn't even notice all the gasps and murmurs, and the girls gossiping about the girl they had never seen in their whole lives before. Ella was just focused on having the time of her life, the opportunity she had never had, truly feeling like she was living life to the fullest at that very moment.

She couldn't even remember how much time had passed, nor how her current situation came to be, but when she noticed, there was a handsome young man dancing by her side. So they began dancing together, with loads of people focused more on looking at them, rather than their dance moves.

At some point, the boy tried to talk to Ella. Unfortunately she couldn't really understand what he was saying, repeating "what?" several times.

"What... name?"

"Name...?"

"... your name!"

"My name is Ci- I mean, Ella!"

And right at that moment she noticed two girls, right next to her, just staring. It took her only a moment to realize: her step-sisters had figured out her disguise.

Shocked, she bolted to the entrance of the nightclub, her sisters following suit. The parking lot for flying cars was right next to the door, and Ella began immediately looking for Granny's car.

"Granny! Granny! I need to go home, now!"

"What's the matter?"

"My sisters, they saw me. Quick I need to be there and get changed before they notice!"

After coming back home, Ella asked Granny to turn her back to normal, and she did. Granny then disappeared to not be seen.

Not long after, the door opened and her sisters ran around the house to find Ella; she simply sat in her bedroom pretending like nothing had happened.

Ella hoped that at least they would go back, as it was only midnight, but much to her frustration, they stayed home. So much for a quiet night, or for a night out.

The very next day, the news began reporting about the Price wanting to find a certain girl he had met the previous night.

"... have a picture of the shoes worn by the mysterious girl. It seems she left the shoes by the entrance of the Nightlife Nightclub. How..."

Wait, what? The shoes? When did she drop them? Ella couldn't even remember.

"...has ordered for footprints and DNA to be gathered from the shoes to match with the mystery girl. Unfortunately, the footprint does not match any class A or B girls around the Prince's age, so a search is now being conducted as per orders of the President. In other..."

Oh no, this was bad! If they actually found out Ella was the mystery girl, she would be in trouble for her whole life! Mother would punish her severely, she can't even imagine...

And as she predicted, a group of investigators came to search for the girl. Ella's step-mother didn't allow for the group to investigate the house freely, lest the shoe match Ella's foot! Ella herself didn't want to be found out either way.

"Excuse me, but I would like to ask once more that you allow us to search the house-" the Prince himself had come with the investigators.

"Oh! Oh, my!" Mother was very surprised. "If you insist..."

And surely enough they found Ella, cowering on her bed, hoping she wasn't found out.

They tried seeing if the evidence matched either of her step-sisters. It did not, despite all their claims that they were, in fact, the one the Prince is looking for. They even tried to match with the step-mother, despite the fact that she had never been allowed once within the nightclub. A negative, much to no one's surprise.

But then came Ella's turn.

"I'm sorry but I was home the entire night... there is no way-"

"Please. I'm getting desperate." the prince was now talking to her directly. "I need to find my Cyberella."

"...Excuse me?!?"

Cyberella. As it turned out, that's what the Prince could've sworn he heard the mystery girl say, when he asked for her name.

Ella tried her hardest not to laugh. She had been about to say "Cindy" when she remembered her true name. It hadn't been her intention to give herself such a silly nickname.

"Um, well, okay. If you insist..."

The instigators gathered her footprints. It was a clear match. Everyone was surprised, except for Ella, who was pretending to be shocked.

"It is you...!"

"It has to be a mistake! I locked her- I mean- she decided to stay home! She didn't come with me and my other, beautiful daughters." the step-mother moaned.

But the Prince couldn't care less. His eyes were only for Ella.

And her eyes were only for him.

Despite Ella's terrible step-family, the Prince arranged for her to move to a nice small apartment. He convinced her to sue her step-mother for the horrible treatment she had given her, and helped her with all that she needed to live by herself, while the two started a beautiful relationship.

Granny had once come to visit. Promising to explain all that had happened, and help too.

And like all good fairytales, the good guys win, and they lived happily ever after.

#cyberella #cinderella #fairytale #cyberpunk #fairytale parody #parody #fairy godmother #disney #futuristic #original story #cenicienta #im aware the writing isnt the best and its kinda rushed. it was for a contest and i didnt even win #the app with the contest is called character generator: develop your story characters (aka auctor)#cinderella parody #scifi #sci-fi #science fiction

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