#“The man under infrared camera”
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The Power of Morning Messages. Love, Faith and Positivity
Sometimes we set the tone for the rest of our day in the morning, which is a sign of a fresh start
#The surprised man#who got a vasectomy last year#Avatar#everythingjapan#Oct 7#“Mundane Halloween” Favorites:#“An interviewer who's a little too extra with the pens”#“The guy who had to work during vacation”#“The man under infrared camera”#“The one who's still playing Animal Crossing”#“A person going to work on a windy day”#“A driver's license”#“A guy who can definitely tell the difference between good and bad coffee”#“When you're loading”#“A guy who can no longer wear his favorite shirt because of the anime Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer)”#“The one who left the bag open”#“Someone who isn't aware their phone flashlight is on”#“The woman who got a head injury in soap operas”#“A woman who's regretting telling the cashier that she doesn't need a bag”#“The newly single in Japanese drama getting over a relationship”#“That guy who's definitely the grill master at a large BBQ”#“The Starbucks employee forced to smile through an exhausting Halloween”#“An office worker whose lanyard name card has flipped over”#“Zoom background error”#“An overworked woman doing last-minute assignments for a terrible company on the train platform”#“A businessman who cut himself shaving but can luckily hide it with his mask”#“The woman looking for a seat at the food court”#“The woman who's having her bangs cut but the hairdresser is nowhere to be found”#“The guy waiting for his girlfriend by the shopping mall restroom”#mundane halloween
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"Mundane Halloween" Favorites:
"An interviewer who's a little too extra with the pens"
"The guy who had to work during vacation"
"The man under infrared camera"
"The one who's still playing Animal Crossing"
"A person going to work on a windy day"
"A driver's license"
"A guy who can definitely tell the difference between good and bad coffee"
"When you're loading"
"A guy who can no longer wear his favorite shirt because of the anime Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer)"
"The one who left the bag open"
"Someone who isn't aware their phone flashlight is on"
"The woman who got a head injury in soap operas"
"A woman who's regretting telling the cashier that she doesn't need a bag"
"The newly single in Japanese drama getting over a relationship"
"That guy who's definitely the grill master at a large BBQ"
"The surprised man, who got a vasectomy last year"
"The Starbucks employee forced to smile through an exhausting Halloween"
"An office worker whose lanyard name card has flipped over"
"Zoom background error"
"An overworked woman doing last-minute assignments for a terrible company on the train platform"
"A businessman who cut himself shaving but can luckily hide it with his mask"
"The woman looking for a seat at the food court"
"The woman who's having her bangs cut but the hairdresser is nowhere to be found"
"The guy waiting for his girlfriend by the shopping mall restroom"
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GENERATION KILL - MILITARY TERMINOLOGY AND SLANG USED IN THE MINISERIES (Part 2, N-Z)
N.J.P. (Non-Judicial Punishment): next to a court martial, the most severe form of punishment to which a Marine can be subjected. It usually involves a loss of rank and pay grade.
Navy Hospitalman, Doc Bryan: the medic, though medics in the Marine Corps are technically part of the Navy’s hospital corps and are never referred to as “medics” but as Corpsmen.
Negligent Discharge: accidental firing of a weapon; aka N.D.
Nine-lines: a procedure for directing air strikes on ground targets.
No salute zone: forward areas where officers are not to be acknowledged with salutes, in order to conceal rank from potential enemy observers.
O Dark Hundred: until darkness falls. Note: “O dark 30” typically means half an hour before dawn, or any ridiculously early hour of the morning.
Oakley sunglasses: surfer sunglasses worn by just about all Marines in Iraq. Iraqis believe Oakleys give Marines X-ray powers to see through women’s clothing and are a constant source of tension.
One M.E.F. (First Marine Expeditionary Force): the overall Marine invasion force in the Middle East, which comprises the First Division (ground troops) under command of Gen. Mattis, the Air Wing and a logistics battalion. The entire One M.E.F. is under the command of General James Conway.
Oscar Mike: “On the Move” from the phonetic alphabet.
Overwatch: a position that offers protective fire for a given area.
“Paint me”: to paint something is to shine one’s gunsight laser designator on a target in preparation for shooting it.
PAS-13 Thermal: a night vision device, about the size of an old video camera, that can see heat signatures. Note: A single device is usually referred to in the plural, e.g. ,“Pass me the thermals” refers to one device.
Pec-fours, Pec-thirteens: night and infrared vision scopes.
POG (Person Other than Grunt): a pejorative term for anyone who is in the rear echelon and therefore not in a recon or infantry unit. This is one of the most insulting terms in the Marine Corps, almost the equivalent of the “N” word. Note: POG is pronounced with a long “o.”
Police: to clean up or correct, as in “Police your tent,” or clean it up. (1-16)
Psy-Ops: Psychological-Operations units, which in Iraq relied on leaflets, radio and loudspeaker broadcasts to encourage enemy forces to surrender.
Pyro and Smoke protocol: codes involving use of smoke grenades and flares.
R.C.T. (Regimental Combat Team): a super-regiment of about 7,000 Marines; the First Division consisted of three RCTs – RCT 1, RCT 5 and RCT 7 – plus First Recon, which operated on its own.
R.C.T. One (Regimental Combat Team One): a motorized, armored infantry regiment of about 7,000 Marines.
R.O.E. (The Rules of Engagement): the all important, ever-changing and always ambiguous rules governing when a Marine may fire his weapon.
R.T.O. (Radio Transceiver Operator): radioman, the most important guy on the team and usually the calmest and smartest next to the team leader. (1-23)
Rack: nautical for sleeping area.
Ranger Graves: sleeping holes dug by marines to protect from shrapnel and gunshots.
Raptor: radio call-sign for First Recon’s Charlie company.
Recon Mission: a reconnaissance mission performed specifically by Recon Marines who are the Marine Corps special forces; there are only a few hundred Recon Marines in the entire Corps.
Red-Con One: a loaded weapon with a round in its chamber, but with the safety on.
Revetment: crude fortifications made from earth or concrete or sandbags.
Ripped Fuel: brand name of a popular over-the-counter stimulant, banned by the military but widely used.
RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade): anti-tank rocket first developed by the Germans as the “panzerfaust,” then adopted by Soviets and as common to Iraqi forces and insurgents as Skittles candies are to Marines. Not very accurate, but devastating when fired in mass by five- or ten-man RPG teams. RPGs were famously used to bring down U.S. Army Blackhawk helicopters in Somalia.
S.O.P. (Standard Operating Procedure): S.O.P. is sometimes informally used as a synonym for common sense.
Saffwon Hill: a low hill on the Iraq side of the border with Kuwait, believed to be the locale of a dug-in Iraqi division.
Sapi plates: 12-inch square ceramic plates worn in front and back of one’s flak vest, rated to stop the enemy’s preferred 7.62 round.
Schwack: to kill; origin believed to be a popular video game.
Screwby: either “That sucks,” or “That’s really cool,” from Cpl. Stafford’s personal hip-hop lexicon.
Senior NCOs: anyone from staff-sergeant to Sergeant Major. Corporals and Sergeants are also NCOs, but they are never referred to junior NCOs, simply as NCOs. (1-18)
Sergeant Major: the highest possible rank a non-commissioned officer can earn in the Marine Corps; invariably a ball-buster who speaks in a semi-illiterate southern sounding accent no matter where he is from. This battalion has just one Sergeant Major.
Shamal: hellacious wind and dust storms endemic to Iraq.
Sit-Rep: situation report:; often used as a more confusing way to say “situation.”
Skittles: chewy fruit-flavored children’s candy, which is a dietary staple in U.S. military.
Slackman: team machine gunner, armed with a SAW.
Snatch: a specific Marine term for abducting an enemy combatant in order to gather intelligence.
Soft Cover: same as a boonie cap. Note: the word “hat” does not exist in the Marine Corps; anything you place on your head is a cover.
Sparrow: a small reaction force held in reserve while another unit attacks; an “eagle” is a large reaction force.
Spread load his excitement: to calm down; from the tradition of foot patrols spreading a heavy load equally among all troops.
T-55: Soviet-era tank ubiquitous in Iraq; older and much less feared than the newer, but less-common T-72 Soviet tanks also in Iraq.
TAD-two, TAD-three: Tactical Air Direct radio bands for communicating directly with pilots in attack aircraft.
Task Force Tarawa: a four thousand-strong Marine unit outside of the First Division Command Structure. This American unit was initially put under the command of the British at Basra, then moved north to Nasariyah.
Team Leader: the sergeant in command of each combat team. Fick’s platoon is divided into three teams, but spread across four Humvees (not counting Fick’s command vehicle, the fifth Humvee). Since Fick’s platoon is a special forces unit trained in coastal raids, they have no experience with Humvees. Technically each team has a specialty, with team one being the dive (or SCUBA) team, team two being the boat team and team three the para-jump team. But here, ironically, they are all in a desert.
The Three: the battalion’s intelligence unit.
T-rats: T-rations; pre-manufactured military food heated and served in mess halls of forward units.
Triple-A: Anti-Aircraft Artillery; towed or self-propelled guns designed to shoot down aircraft but often used by Iraqis against American forces on the ground.
Two o’clock: direction of enemy forces. Orientation of the lead vehicle puts 12 o’clock at the center of the hood and six o’clock at the rear.
Two-Oh-Three: an M-203 grenade launcher, which is a single shot self-propelled weapon mounted beneath the barrel of a standard Marine rifle. The M-203 fires the same 40mm round as the M-19.
Unfucking: a verb peculiar to the Marine Corps meaning to get out of a fucked-up situation.
U-two: a reference to venerable U2 spy planes.
Victors: vehicles. The military uses the phonetic alphabet as a shorthand code: the phonetic alphabet replaces letters with words, i.e., Alpha, Bravo Charlie, Delta, Echo. These phonetic word for each letter of the alphabet can be used to replace any word starting with the corresponding letter. Hence, vehicle becomes “victor,” terrorist becomes “tango” and white trash becomes “whiskey tango,” as in, “He grew up in a whiskey tango trailer park in the Ozarks.”
Whiskey Tango: white trash, from the phonetic alphabet version.
Zil truck: Russian-made truck popular in Iraq.
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hi cuba i'm dad
I watched I Am Cuba, whose not-so-recent restoration was playing at the GFT. insanely well shot film, like the level of choreography to pull off those long takes and supercomplicated crane shots with no steadicams or anything is just mind bending. absolutely wild that the soviets didn't say "wow we have a banger on our hands here comrades" and play it everywhere - as a propaganda film, it did its job! definitely leaves you fired up to fight the Cuban revolution.
it is certainly a very didactic film, with the lesson of each vignette being pretty clear. but it is able to lend enough depth to the archetypal characters - the struggling sex worker from a slum who has to hide her relationship serving american visitors at a jazz club, the salt of the earth sugarcane farmer whose land is sold out from under him, the student revolutionary who hesitates to pull the trigger, the other farmer who only wants peace - to get you really engaged, though definitely the revolutionary characters (probably closest to the experience of the filmmakers) feel like they're the most fleshed out.
the third act, in which a revolutionary student plans to assassinate a regime cop (unnamed) but hestitates when he sees the man with his family, only to see that same cop murder first his friend and them himself, is maybe the most spectacular, with huge scenes of rioters getting blasted with water cannons, or the incredible funeral shot...
youtube
but it's not just these flashy huge shots; it's a gorgeously lit greyscale film (absolutely crazy detailed looking with the 4k scan, so cheers for that one Scorcese), ingeniously augmented by infrared photography in places to make it extra stark. more than that and so many shots have really elaborate blocking and camerawork, with the camera drifting from actor to actor, effortlessly sliding between closeup and longshot like it's in the hands of Ichirō Itano, which is wild for live action.
one relatively simple scene towards the end I noticed had a revolutionary arriving at a farmer's house and sitting down for the meal; the men argue, and the farmer goes to stand at the door, allowing the camera to perfectly frame the two of them and almost nothing else in the shot.
it is otherwise very happy to linger on a musical sequence, such as the intense club scenes at the beginning, in a way that feels way more modern than you'd think for the 60s.
the architecture of revolution-era Cuba is just as striking - some buildings, like the rooftop where Enrique tries to line up his shot, look like they could easily be modern buildings. compared to the romantic picture of something like Chico and Rita, of course, this is a film determined to remind you how bad things are, not just show you the touristy bits of Cuba. much of the film revolves around the question of violence - certainly from an agitprop angle, like act 3 is sorta should you hesitate (no), and act 4 is like will you be OK if you keep your head down (no); many of the revolutionary songs are in major part about how it's good and righteous die for the country.
when first shown, it was criticised in Havana for stereotypical depictions of Cubans - which doesn't entirely seem unfair, they are kind of stock characters for the most part, although portrayed with a lot of humanity. in the Soviet Union, meanwhile, it got criticised for not being propaganda-y enough, which is wild because to my mind it works better at getting its emotional message across than most oldschool propaganda films I've seen. that said, I definitely need to watch more critical Cuban films from the same period like Memories of Underdevelopment, or recent ones like Strawberry and Chocolate, for some contrast.
all in all cool film, big shoutout to @hamiltonianflow for suggesting we watch it together <3
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The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 32
Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader
Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending
Chapter Summary: “What did you dream?”
AO3
You were led to another room not far, only further down the hall. This one had the typical layout of an interview room, and you were firmly placed into the metal chair with one restraint removed as the guard looped the chain through the small bar welded to the table.
The scientist, a man in his 50s with short-cropped grey hair, his face unfamiliar, didn’t sit at the other end, but instead consulted his tablet as he stood off to one side.
“What did you dream?” he asked without preface once your wrists were both shackled again. You the scientist with a scowl as you turned over the question in your head.
SCP-5964 was a coin forged in a time of bloodthirsty monarchs and civil war, except it had one unfortunate effect. Placing it under the pillow of a person would lead them to have a single, lucid nightmare. No matter how terrible or implausible the nightmare was, whatever happened in the dream would play out within 24 hours, leading to the person’s death. People have drowned in the middle of meetings, caught on fire swimming at the beach, or cannibalized while tilling a field.
You pressed your lips together to stop their trembling.
“I didn’t.”
The door opened.
“You’re lying.”
You sank in your chair. Site Director Leahy gave a nod to the other scientist, dismissing him before his eyes fixed on you. He sat in the empty chair that was your opposite, smoothing down his tie as he did so.
Your glare was unblinking.
“What did you see, Reid?”
“I didn’t see anything,” you repeated, inflection flat. “The SCP had no effect on me.”
Leahy gave you a look before glancing down at his tablet, scrolling through it until getting what he wanted. He then flipped it around for you to see, an image painting its surface in greens, reds, and yellows. It was similar to an infrared spectrum but with much more detail, able to monitor a subject’s hormone levels through the biometric lens of an advanced camera. One you hadn’t noticed in the room, but from its angle, you knew where it had been hidden: a ventilation grate.
The display showed you in a prone position, taken while you were asleep in that room, and showing heightened signs of brain activity and hormonal stress. You shrank in further on yourself as Leahy turned the tablet back around.
“Now you can see the lie for yourself. You gave all the indications of an intense dream. What was it?” When you held your tongue, he added, “We only have one more test, and it will be the last. For now.”
“Not going to threaten me some more?”
Your patience with the Site Director was at an all-time low. You were aching from interrupted sleep, chilled by cold sweat, and trying not to squirm from the discomfort of your damp undergarments.
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
“I can, if you wish. SCP-049 is being a little too willful these days. Perhaps a few minutes in a dark room with 173 will correct this newfound defiance.”
Despite his causal lean and the almost lazy drawl of his words, he wasn’t bluffing. Leahy clearly didn’t care about the policies against cross-testing with different SCPs, let alone punishing them.
You stared down at your hands, curled against the table and rendered harmless by unnecessary shackles. You didn’t know what to say. Because the SCP had reacted to you in an anomalous way, but unless you were going to die by 049’s cock in the next 24 hours, its effect was different.
A bubble of hysterical laughter lodged in your throat. You covered your mouth, but a choked noise still escaped.
“You’re not going to be sick, are you?” Leahy frowned. “If so, point it away from me.”
You coughed into your hand and swallowed down the giggle fit before it could start. This was beyond fucked, there was nothing funny about it, and yet the deranged imperative to laugh still remained.
“No, no… I’m fine.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll stick you both with 173 and see who it favors more.”
“No!”
Your chains clinked as your back went stiff, and Leahy’s smirk told you he got the reaction he wanted.
Bastard.
Closing your eyes, you took a breath and forced yourself to think. You had to give Leahy something, and it damn well wasn’t going to be the truth. A believable lie was what you needed, but you’d never been particularly good at those, especially elaborate ones.
Maybe it didn’t need to be elaborate. Maybe it just needed to be incredulous enough to buy.
Maybe, you needed another liar.
You opened your eyes and let your shoulders sag just enough to indicate surrender.
“There was a containment breach.”
Now it was Leahy’s turn to sit up, his posture straight as he leaned against the table.
“In the nightmare?”
You nodded slowly, as if recalling the details against your will.
“It was… bad.”
“Who started it?”
“I don’t know.”
“How many casualties?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where does the breach happen?!”
“I don’t know!” you snapped back. “I just remember fleeing to a garage. There were Foundation vehicles, and we took one. To escape into the forest.”
“We?”
Leahy took the bait, but you hesitated. It wasn’t for show.
“Someone was… with me. An SCP.”
“Go on.”
Pressing your lips together, you shifted uncomfortably in your chair.
“I think he started the breach. He came for me, and we left together.”
“Who, Reid,” Leahy growled. “Give me a designation.”
You prayed for forgiveness. Even this SCP didn’t deserve the Site Director’s cruel attention.
“SCP-035.”
Leahy glared at you for a long moment in which you didn’t look away, not until you dropped your eyes, shame forcing you to hide. An emotion that was uncomfortably truthful.
The Site Director stood, not speaking to you again as he nodded to the guard and left the room. The two guards unlatched you from the table and led you to a place you’d been hoping to see: a heavy containment cell with thick doors and no way of escape. Leahy had bought your story, and you were on lockdown for the next 24 hours.
There was nowhere for you to rest, but you were delivered meals and clean clothes through an automated delivery system in the wall. It could have been worse, at least you were left alone and there was a rudimentary shower in one corner. But 24 hours was a long time in solitary, and your mind wandered back to a place it didn’t want to go.
The dream had been so real. Too real. Every detail was accurate, down to 049’s smell and the unique texture of his robes. You’d had no idea it was a dream, only an impending sense of it ending soon, perhaps your subconscious mind knowing it was inevitable to wake up. Your urgency for 049 to finish what you both had started had been all-consuming, and even now there was an echo, an emptiness left unfulfilled. Overt sexual desire wasn’t something you were prone to, but the dream version of yourself had had no compunctions about getting thoroughly fucked by 049 as quick as possible.
You buried your face in your hands and tried to think about anything but the dream, and like a lingering bad odor, 035 crept into your thoughts instead. Specifically, his words regarding 049—how old the SCP was, and that no one but you had touched him before. How the loneliness must affect him after centuries of solitude, even when surrounded by his disciples. You could imagine it all too well, the way 049 would keep them at a proper, polite distance. Hadn’t he tried the same with you?
It was difficult to know how much of it was truth, and how much of it was 035’s usual embellishment and love of a compelling story. It made sense that he would paint 049 as a tragic, romantic figure. It also didn’t mean he was wrong.
And then there was 035. You shouldn’t sympathize with such a dangerous anomaly, and yet, you hoped he wouldn’t face harsh consequences for your lie. Leahy was ambitious, but he wouldn’t be able to destroy the mask. The Foundation had tried many times, almost as many times as they’d tried to kill 682—who, apparently, might not be as dead as once thought.
And that same Foundation had known you were anomalous from the start according to 035. You didn’t know how it was possible, surely there would have been signs, and they wouldn’t have given you so much freedom with the SCPs. How much did Dr. Puli know? How much did Leahy?
049, 682, your own history. How reliable was this information with 035 as the storyteller? Unreliable narrator didn’t begin to cover it.
The one good thing about being isolated was it gave you plenty of time to sort out the last few days in your head, but by the end, you were ready to claw at the walls. Even seeing Leahy’s face when he entered your cell the next morning was nearly a welcome sight.
His satisfied smirk didn’t bode well, and neither did the guards at his side.
“Seeing as there were no containment breaches, it’s safe to assume the coin does not show you something that will inevitably happen.”
He moved closer and crouched, now eye level with you where you sat leaning against the wall.
“It shows you something that will never happen.”
The urge to give the Site Director a good punch while you had the chance fell away, the dream springing up in its place. An impossible dream, one that 24 hours had proved wouldn’t take place.
You looked away, hating that the disappointment on your face would sell the lie, hating even more that it wasn’t a lie at all.
“Get her up.”
Leahy moved out of your space, replaced by two guards who hauled you to your feet and secured the manacles around your wrists. They were beginning to chaff and bruise, but you didn’t resist as they led you to a freight elevator at the end of Heavy Containment.
Only when you got inside and Leahy inserted his keycard and put in a code did you pay attention, especially when he didn’t enter a floor number.
The elevator shuddered and began its descent, its movements utilitarian and not smooth as the lab elevators were. It kept going for a minute, then two, far past any floor that should exist.
Down, down, down. Straight into the belly of the beast.
You weren’t going to the basement levels. You were going beneath Site-20.
Next Chapter
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Just wrote a big ass one-shot on my main, might as well write up something here as well.
And this is for my android Aziraphale au, which... doesn't have an au tag and is a pain in the ass to find on this blog.
But here's a quick plot for you guys:
Crowley is a cyborg hacker who is trying to break into Aziraphale's, a club owner who no one knows is actually a very dangerous android, office to steal his files that he keeps on a hard drive, really important files, that sorta thing. Shit happens and they hate each other but also wanna, ya know, hate-fuckk and stuff, but then romance happens when they both realize that their is more to them than they realize about each other.
Oh, and Arthur from Passengers is there, and he is part of the relationship. He is loved, because I love Arthur, he's a good android that is respected on this blog.
Also, Aziraphale looks like Castor/Zues from Tron: Legacy, but with cool extra limbs like Doctor Octopus. :)
This one-shot is when Crowley finally breaks into the office, and what happens when Aziraphale finds out.
Warning: injury, blood, violence
On with the fic!
--
Third time's the charm, as the saying goes.
Crowley had been careful this time around, his last two attempts had been... bad. Really unprofessional for him. First time he hadn't gotten the chance to go anywhere near Fell's office! Second time he got caught being in the wrong place, but he was able to joke it off, saying how he got lost trying to find the bathroom.
Fell had been so nice about that second mistake, but Crowley knew, he knew the man was suspicious of him.
And Crowley needed to be careful, really careful.
Rumor has it that Fell was good about making people disappear.
The club was busy, at the height of the night, music was booming, drinks were being served, and Fell was too busy schmoozing to notice that Crowley had slipped away from the bar. He had told the bartender, Arthur, that he'd be right back, just needed to step out to make a call, in case if anyone asked where he was.
The halls were empty, not a guard in sight. This was too easy, but Crowley wasn't dumb to just step into a trap so easily. He was a professional.
He tapped at the small tablet in his hands as he stood out of the way of the cameras in the hall. He watched as the little blue lights on them dimmed, and he smirked. A simple hack into the security system, nothing he couldn't handle.
A few more taps and the overhead lights went out, a blackout. The club was fine, the blackout was only here, and would only be for a short period of time. No power meant the electrical locks were done on the doors, leaving only the average ones. Who even still uses those nowadays?
With a huff, he tapped twice on the side of his shades, and the world was suddenly visible once more, no longer pitch black. Infrared, always good to have on hand. He looked at the tablet before pocketing it in his jacket and walked down the hall, keeping light on his feet.
He stopped outside of a door, marked with a symbol, a sword outlined in what looked like fire. Fell's signature, this had to be his office. He grabbed the knob, frowning when he noticed it was locked. Of course the guy remembered to lock the manual one, he seemed the type.
Crowley thanked his lucky stars boredom as a child allowed him to learn how to pick a lock as he used the small kit he carried to pick the lock on the door.
He heard the clicks and smirked, trying the knob again, and the door opened.
The inside of the office looked oddly cluttered, unlike everything else in this space or the club, where it was all clean, sterile lines and colors. This was a disaster, how weird.
But that was something for Crowley to ponder over later, right now he needed to find the safe.
After searching for a few minutes, Crowley found it under a stack of books that looked really old, fragile. Jackpot. He removed his glove from his right hand, looking at the black metal he kept hidden, lines along his fingers and wrist glowing pink in the darkness.
He touched the dial on the safe, how old school, and started to turn it, listening carefully for the right sounds to know he was putting in the right combo. It had taken quite a while to learn what familiar numbers would work best for the safe, ones that Fell used often.
Oddly, it was 4-0-4, curious, Crowley thought as he heard the final click.
Opening the door, he could see papers and the like, but not the hard drive. "Fuck, where is it..." He whispered, patting around, trying to find the damn thing.
Then he noticed something odd in his lenses. There seemed to be the slightest shift in how dark the room was. And it wasn't due to his ungloved hand.
"Ooh, what a shame." Came a posh, cold voice from somewhere behind Crowley.
Something touched the sides of his neck, sharp, like needles. Crowley froze in place.
"'Never trust a pretty face', quite a fitting saying, don't you think?" He heard the sounds of footsteps approaching, the sounds of metal shifting.
Fingers touching the back of his head, gently toying with his hair. "I really don't want to have to do this, dear boy, but I can't allow thieves a second chance. I'm sure we would have had such fun, darling."
Instinct had always been Crowley's saving grace, getting him out of sticky situations, and it didn't fail him now. His brain screamed for him to move forward, and luckily his body.
There was a loud snap of metal, as if someone smacked knives together, and Crowley would later recall in a fearful moment as he tried to sleep that he had nearly been decapitated.
Spinning around, Crowley could see in the darkness and his shades that Fell was standing there, just feet away.
Except he wasn't standing on his own feet. No, he was standing with the help of two long, terrifying metal appendages coming from his lower back. Two more were hovering over his shoulders, the end of one was right where Crowley had been just seconds before. It was clawed, and it looked very, very sharp.
Aziraphale's suit's lights were glowing in the dark, as were his eyes. Those same eyes had been hazel before, but were now a cold white, like snow. And they were focused completely on Crowley. There was a slight shift to them as they looked at the exposed right hand.
"I thought as much, your grip wasn't as breakable as most others are." He said, almost sounded fascinated. "But it won't save you from what I'm about to do, darling."
Crowley only had seconds to move out of the way of the claws that slammed right into the ground where he had been sitting. He charged for the open door, dodging another claw that brushed his head, probably cutting some strands of hair.
The hallway was dark still, there were still minutes until the lights and power returned. It was too risky to go back to the club, so Crowley would have to take the back way. There was a stairwell he had discovered in his research, he could use that to escape.
He screeched when a clawed hand shot past his face, he felt the brush of metal on his cheek, and then wet warmth on his skin. Fuck! FUCK! He was going for the stairwell.
He turned and ran down the hall, hearing those fucking claws tearing into the walls and floor as Fell chased him. The hallway seemed to become illuminated in a growing light. Glancing back, Crowley could see that there was a glow coming from the metal limbs, and shit, the man looked terrifying in the glow.
Was he a cyborg too?! Who the hell had metal appendages like that!? Androids had them, or at least some did, cyborgs didn't! Too risky, too heavy and dangerous to have on human bodies! Crowley knew how heavy metal appendages could be due to his own arms and his upper back, but all those? Holy shit!
And where did he keep them! They weren't there during their previous encounters!
"Come back here!" Fell shouted as Crowley turned a corner and found the door for the stairwell. He flung it open and charged down the stairs, trying to be careful not to trip.
"You can't escape, little one!" Fell's voice echoed and Crowley heard a horrible sound of metal tearing, and nearly flew down the stairs when the door was thrown at him.
Okay, he most certainly was NOT a cyborg! He had to be an android! Guess the rumors were true!
Crowley gasped when something grabbed at the back of his leg and he lost his footing, tumbling down the metal and concrete steps. He cried out in pain when he hit the landing. He opened his eyes, finding he was in the dark, his shades lost in the tumble. His knees hurt and so did his head, his metal parts creaked, Agnes is gonna kill him if he damaged anything.
He saw the blue glow of Fell as he descended the stairs, his feet never touching the ground, his extra limbs carrying him. He looked at Crowley with a terrifying glare. "I don't know what you think you were trying to do, but I will not allow you to complete your mission. Now, return whatever it is you took."
"I didn't... take anythin'." Crowley growled as he pushed himself up.
"If you return it, I'll make sure your body is found."
"I told you, I didn't take anythin'." Crowley put his hand in his jacket, rubbing at his side, fuck, that was gonna bruise.
Fell's eyes narrowed. "What were you doing in my office then?"
"Just... that ain't any of your business, Fell."
"It most certainly is." Fell snipped. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, I'll just have to search your corpse. It really is a shame, you interested me greatly, it's been a long time since anyone has done that. Well, I suppose that I can be a bit nice, I'll make this quick."
The claws were coming close and Crowley only had once chance at this.
He had been working on something, a backup for if his power outage hack didn't work, or if he came across something troublesome of the robot variety.
He really hoped this work.
"Nah, but maybe next time we meet, angel." Crowley said and pulled out a taser.
Fell gave pause, confused, and that was all the opening Crowley needed to pull the trigger.
Four bolts shot out and struck Fell right in the chest.
Then Crowley heard the most horrible, metallic scream.
The screaming stopped, and Fell slumped forward, dropping to the ground right at Crowley's feet. The stairwell was silent and the glow was gone, minus the faint pink of Crowley's hand.
He could see just the barest of light from Fell though, his eyes. They were focused on Crowley, staring right at him.
"EMP taser." Crowley swallowed, holding up the device. "Not enough to kill you, but enough to stun you for an hour or two."
Fell made a strange sound, like an overheated laptop. He sounded angry.
Crowley took that as his cue to get his ass out of here. "Didn't steal anythin'." He said, wincing as he pulled himself up, removing his other glove, giving him a bit more light. "Couldn't find it anyway..."
The sound got louder, echoing in the stairwell, as Crowley continued to now-slow trek down the stairs for the exit.
He survived, just barely, but he was sure that he wouldn't be able to push his luck like this next time.
--
Aziraphale and Crowley's stairwell encounter has been on my mind for months, since I first started developing this au. I wanted something scrary in the dark with limited space and limited light.
Also, yes, Crowley's LED lights are pink, like his android counterpart in the other au.
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TW: Jimmy Savile, sexual abuse and exploitation, child abuse, psychological trauma, hospitals and terminal illness, manipulation and gaslighting, death and grief
Jimmy Savile and Margaret Thatcher at Mandeville Hospital (1977):
"The nurses tell the children to pretend to sleep when Savile came to visit."
Identification: Gaunt Scout
Lead Researcher: Dr. Öctavio Kalev
Abomination #: ANM-622-KV
Classification: Neutralized ✖️
Type of Anomaly: Manifesting, historical, humanoid
Type of Damage: Trauma, psychological, auditory, dream-related, public, child-related
Containment: ANM-622 must be contained within a standard humanoid containment cell located in Department-██. The cell should be constructed of reinforced steel and equipped with infrared and motion-activated cameras to monitor any erratic behavior inside. The lights within ANM-622's containment area should be kept at a minimum of 1000 lumens to deter the entity's activity.
An emergency set of strobe lights is installed outside the containment chamber and can be activated remotely by authorized personnel in case of any containment breach or unusual activity. Thermal sensors are positioned around the perimeter of ANM-622's cell to detect any abnormal temperature fluctuations. Any personnel assigned to observe ANM-622 must do so from a separate, sealed observation room.
Direct interaction with ANM-622 should be limited to testing protocols authorized by at least two Level 3 staff members. No one under the age of 18 is permitted within 30 meters of ANM-622's containment area at any time, including other anomalies. Any reports of ANM-622 appearing outside its containment cell should be treated as a potential containment breach, and immediate lockdown procedures must be enacted.
Description: ANM-622 is a humanoid entity resembling an extremely emaciated elderly man, approximately 3.92 meters tall, weighing 120 kilograms. Its skin is abnormally pale, with the bones of its ribs, shoulders, and limbs visibly protruding beneath the surface. The entire body of ANM-622 is covered with fine, depigmented hair, except for sparse reddish patches in certain areas of the chest, groin, and arms. The eyes are disproportionately large and dark, with severely dilated pupils, suggesting a high sensitivity to light.
The entity's posture is typically hunched, likely to facilitate movement in narrow spaces. Its chest is deformed, with a pronounced sunken area near the sternum consistent with pectus excavatum. ANM-622's hands are characterized by abnormally long fingers, each of similar length, including an extended thumb that is disproportionately long. The nails are thick, discolored, and sharp at the tips.
Behavior: ANM-622 exhibits a compulsion to observe human subjects through windows, with a particular focus on children. It is more active during nighttime or in low-light conditions, including rainy weather. When ANM-622 identifies a potential subject, it approaches the nearest window offering a clear view and begins to tap on the glass with one of its long fingers. The tapping sound produced is notably louder than expected, resonating with a deep "click" that unnaturally reverberates throughout the surrounding area.
Once ANM-622 has gained the subject's attention, it will maintain eye contact, remaining outside the window and staring directly at the individual. Witnesses report an overwhelming sense of dread and an inability to look away. In cases involving children, recurring nightmares often follow the encounter, with dreams frequently depicting ANM-622 whispering, waving, or lightly touching the back of the subject's neck or shoulders. If the subject remains in place for more than five minutes or continues to focus on ANM-622, the entity will attempt to vocalize. The sounds produced are a mixture of guttural noises, harsh breathing, and clicks, none of which resemble any known language. Prolonged exposure to these sounds has led to reported symptoms, including temporary auditory hallucinations, headaches, and vertigo.
Although ANM-622 has not demonstrated the ability to physically pass through solid barriers such as windows, there are several documented cases of its appearance inside rooms under certain conditions (see Incident Report 622-2 for details). The entity does not appear to show any interest in adult subjects unless they actively interfere with its focus on a child.
[[collapsible show="+ Incident Log 622-2" hide="- Close"]]
Incident Log 622-2: Containment Breach on ██/██/20██
During a routine observation of ANM-622, the entity was observed repeatedly approaching the glass of its containment cell and tapping in a rhythmic pattern. In response, Subject P (P-9742), equipped with a tracking collar and infrared camera, was dispatched to guide ANM-622 back to its cell. As P-9742 approached the entity, he reported auditory hallucinations of a voice resembling that of his deceased grandmother, speaking to him from inside the cell.
ANM-622 then placed its hand against the glass of an adjacent observation room, resulting in a rapid dimming of the internal lights. Thermal readings showed a sudden drop in temperature of nearly 15°C, with frost forming on the interior surface of the observation room window. Despite the environmental controls indicating no changes in external conditions, P-9742 described a profound sense of comfort and an irresistible urge to approach the entity.
The situation was resolved when the supervising researcher activated the emergency strobe lights, causing ANM-622 to retreat violently and return to its containment area. Subsequent investigations revealed that the dimming of the lights was not due to any known electrical failure, and the source of the temperature drop remains unexplained.
[[/collapsible]]
Addendum 622-3: Discovery
ANM-622 was first documented following a series of reports at Stoke Mandeville Hospital, United Kingdom. The reports described cases of children waking up in the middle of the night and seeing "a tall, old man" outside their bedroom windows. Local police had previously investigated multiple occurrences of sexual abuse within the hospital, as well as erratic electrical disturbances and sudden cold spots. A recorded photograph of a vaguely humanoid silhouette outside a child's window led to the deployment of MOTHRA Institute agents for investigation.
Field agents discovered that ANM-622 exhibited a pattern of appearance in low-light conditions, primarily targeting children. Following the identification of ANM-622, Class A amnestics were administered to the affected families, and a cover story was disseminated about disturbances and local hysteria.
Addendum 622-4: Ongoing Research
Several tests have been conducted to understand ANM-622's compulsion towards children and its ability to affect the environment. Initial theories suggest that ANM-622 is attracted to feelings of fear, particularly from younger individuals, which may act as a stimulus or form of sustenance. This hypothesis is supported by observations of increased activity during heightened emotional states.
Addendum 622-5: Jimmy Savile
Researchers examined historical records involving Stoke Mandeville Hospital, and the analysis revealed multiple cases mentioning an abnormally tall and thin figure observed near orphanages, children's hospitals, and private properties associated with prominent figures.
A review of public records uncovered a disturbing pattern of unexplained occurrences and reports of a "tall, pale man" at locations connected to the late entertainer and convicted sex offender known as "Jimmy Savile," who was accused of involvement in over 400 cases of sexual abuse, including young children and terminally ill patients. The MOTHRA investigation into these reports aimed to determine whether ANM-622 had a connection to Savile's documented activities, potentially serving as an accomplice, facilitator, or a manifestation resulting from the extreme psychological trauma inflicted on his victims.
On ██/██/19██, a nurse working at the hospital reported seeing a tall and emaciated figure outside one of the children's wards at night. The nurse described a "skeletal man" hunched near a window, slowly tapping on the glass. Security footage from the night in question showed an indistinct figure matching Jimmy Savile's physical shape; no alarms were triggered, and no evidence of entry was found. The affected child, aged six, later reported having nightmares about "a tall man" who spoke to them "with voices that sounded like many people."
The hospital was a frequent destination for Savile, who was known to visit under the pretext of charity work. Similar reports from other institutions visited by Savile over the years emerged during the investigation. Most notably, these accounts included statements from children describing recurring dreams of "the man at the window," often coinciding with times when Savile was present in the same building.
Research into ANM-622's activities raised the possibility that its behavior might be connected to cases of significant psychological trauma, especially involving children. Some researchers theorize that ANM-622 may act as a "fear feeder," attracted to intense emotional distress and sustaining itself on fear, dread, or despair. The correlation between its sightings and locations associated with Jimmy Savile's abuse suggests that ANM-622 might have been drawn to the lingering trauma in these areas.
The theory further speculates that Savile himself may have been aware of ANM-622, either intentionally or subconsciously. Some survivor testimonies describe feeling an overwhelming sense of cold and a sensation of "being watched" that did not align solely with Savile's physical presence. In several instances, these descriptions were accompanied by mentions of a tall, skeletal figure in the background of the rooms.
Although there is no direct evidence linking Savile to ANM-622 beyond circumstantial connections, there is a hypothesis that ANM-622 may have manifested more frequently or with greater activity near places where Savile's crimes occurred, possibly as a reflection or amplifier of the collective trauma.
In an effort to establish more concrete evidence of ANM-622's presence, researchers conducted interviews with individuals who had been exposed to Savile's abuses and also reported sightings of a "tall man." The following excerpts summarize notable findings:
Survivor 622-A: The subject was a former patient at [REDACTED] Hospital in the early 1980s. They recalled a strange figure outside the window one night, described as "white and bony, like it was starving." The entity allegedly tapped on the glass and stared directly at the subject, who experienced recurring dreams afterward. In these dreams, the subject reported hearing Savile's voice along with a faint clicking noise that grew louder as the entity approached.
Survivor 622-B: The subject, a former resident of a children's care home visited by Savile, claimed to have seen "a very tall man" lurking near the property's outer fence at night. The subject's nightmares after the incident involved both Savile and the figure, with Savile speaking to the tall man in an incomprehensible language. The subject reported feelings of sleep paralysis and cold sweat during these dreams.
Incident 622-7: Anomalous Manifestation During Testing
On ██/██/20██, during an authorized psychological test involving ANM-622 and a Subject P with a history of childhood trauma associated with abuse, ANM-622 displayed unexpected behavior. When the subject was instructed to recount their traumatic experiences, ANM-622 approached the observation window and began tapping rapidly, producing a clicking sound described as resembling human speech when analyzed with audio software. The sound pattern, when processed, matched phonetic markers consistent with Savile's voice as recorded in archival footage.
Following this event, the room's temperature dropped abruptly, and the subject entered a catatonic state, remaining unresponsive for several hours. After recovering, the subject claimed to have heard a conversation between two distinct voices during the event: one they recognized as ANM-622's guttural tone, and the other they identified as Savile's. The nature of this connection remains speculative but suggests a deeper relationship between the entity and environments or individuals connected to extreme trauma.
[[collapsible show="+ Interview Log 622-8" hide="- Close"]]
Date: ██/██/2008
Interviewer: Dr. ███████
Interviewee: Jimmy Savile
Location: [REDACTED]
Context: Following increasing reports of an entity resembling ANM-622 manifesting at locations previously visited by Jimmy Savile, Institute personnel arranged an interview under the pretext of an investigative documentary. The aim was to assess Savile's potential knowledge of ANM-622 and its possible connection to the anomaly.
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. ███████: Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mr. Savile. I'd like to discuss some of your charity work, particularly at hospitals and care homes. You've spent a lot of time visiting children's facilities, haven't you?
Savile: Oh yes, I've been a regular visitor to many hospitals and care homes over the years. It's always good to bring a bit of joy to the children, you know? [Smiles]. You'd be surprised how much a friendly face can do.
Dr. ███████: Yes, I'm sure. During those visits, did you ever notice anything... unusual? Perhaps something outside the buildings, or even inside?
Savile: [Laughs]. Ah, now you're talking! People always say these old places are full of ghosts, don't they? But I've never seen anything like that, unless you count the old nurses. [Winks].
Dr. ███████: Actually, I'm referring to reports from children who mentioned seeing a "tall man" outside their windows during your visits. Some described him as pale and thin, with a hollow chest. Have you ever heard anything like that?
Savile: [The smile fades slightly. He looks away before shrugging]. Children, eh? Good heavens! They have such vivid imaginations. Maybe they saw someone passing by, perhaps a gardener or a security guard. Kids get frightened by all sorts of things when they're stuck in those beds, poor little things.
Dr. ███████: Some of these reports also mentioned unusual sensations. Cold spots in rooms, flickering lights... even a knocking sound on windows. Does that sound familiar to you?
Savile: [Leans back, appearing slightly agitated]. I've heard the stories, of course. But that's all they are, stories. Nothing more than kids making things up or trying to get a bit of attention. You know how it is. [Smiles again, but it seems forced this time].
Dr. ███████: Mr. Savile, I'll be direct. We have information suggesting that during some of these incidents, you were present at the locations where the children reported seeing the figure. It seems to happen more often when you're around. Why do you think that is?
Savile: [The smile disappears completely. Savile's tone becomes defensive]. I don't know what you're implying, doctor. I've done nothing but good for those children. I brought joy and raised money for their hospitals. Are you trying to say I had something to do with some bogeyman stories?
Dr. ███████: I'm not implying anything, Mr. Savile. I'm simply trying to understand why these sightings are so often linked to your presence. Some children even described hearing a voice resembling yours, speaking alongside the knocking on the windows.
Savile: [Visibly uncomfortable, he shifts in his chair, making a smiling yet irritated expression]. Kids say all sorts of things, don't they? Sometimes they hear voices in their dreams, things that scare them. But those are just nightmares, nothing more. I can't help it if they have overactive imaginations.
Dr. ███████: Let's talk about a specific incident from 1982, at [REDACTED] Hospital. A nurse reported seeing a tall, skeletal figure outside the children's ward. Security footage captured a figure identical to you. You were there that night. Do you recall anything out of the ordinary?
Savile: [The subject's demeanor changes, becoming unusually calm]. I've been in many hospitals, many nights, doctor. There are always shadows. There are always noises. If you're trying to pin something on me, you'll need to come up with more than ghost stories.
Dr. ███████: I'm not accusing you of anything, Mr. Savile. I'm interested in knowing if you've ever felt... accompanied during these visits. Some people have described a feeling of being watched. Have you ever experienced anything like that?
Savile: [Long pause. Savile's expression is unreadable. He speaks slowly]. There are always eyes watching, doctor. In hospitals, on the streets, everywhere you go. [Leans slightly forward, lowering his voice]. Sometimes, it's the people you least expect who see the most. But you already know that, don't you?
Dr. ███████: What do you mean by that?
Savile: [Sits back, smiling again, but his eyes remain cold]. Oh, nothing really. I'm just an old man who did a bit of good in his spare time. If you want to go chasing after fantastic stories about bogeymen, be my guest. But don't come knocking at my door when you find there's nothing there. [Pauses]. Or maybe... it's not nothing. Maybe it's something you don't want to find.
Dr. ███████: Mr. Savile, one last question. Do you believe in the idea that some things can feed on fear? That perhaps the terror experienced by children could attract... something?
Savile: [The smile returns, wider than before]. Oh, doctor, fear is a powerful thing. It can drive people to do all sorts of things, see all sorts of things. If there's something that feeds on it, well... there certainly isn't a shortage of food, is there?
[END LOG]
---
Jimmy Savile demonstrated a complex ability to manipulate his own body language, often using evasive or ambiguous speech patterns to deflect questioning or obscure the truth. His conversational style frequently employed nonlinear responses, digressions, and humor to create confusion or redirect attention away from sensitive topics. These tactics allowed him to manipulate interviews and investigations, consistently avoiding consequences by shifting narratives in his favor.
Some linguists at the MOTHRA Institution theorized that Savile's use of language went beyond mere rhetorical skill and bordered on the anomalous. In several documented cases, interviewers and law enforcement agents reported feeling disoriented, forgetful, or mentally impaired after prolonged interactions with Savile. This phenomenon may suggest that Savile had an unconscious or latent ability to influence others through his speech, possibly compelling them to disregard or downplay any allegations against him.
Savile maintained close relationships with various influential individuals, including former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, members of the British royal family, and senior BBC officials. His connections granted him not only access to powerful social circles but also a level of protection that extended far beyond the reach of the average celebrity.
Several reports indicate that Savile's ties to figures like Margaret Thatcher may have played a crucial role in shielding him from prosecution. Internal documents and testimonies suggest that allegations made against him were repeatedly dismissed, suppressed, or "lost" by law enforcement agencies. Requests to investigate Savile were often met with resistance or completely derailed, possibly due to his network of powerful allies who were complicit in his activities or fearful of the potential consequences if his crimes were exposed.
Following Savile's death from pneumonia on October 29, 2011, all reported sightings of ANM-622 ceased completely. Before Savile's death, ANM-622 had been observed intermittently, with manifestations predominantly occurring at locations associated with trauma or where Savile had frequented during his lifetime. The abrupt end to these activities after his death suggests a potential connection between Savile and the entity, either as a direct or indirect influence on its manifestations.
The cessation of ANM-622's activity raised questions about the true nature of its existence and whether it was somehow linked to Savile's life force, influence, or actions. Further research into residual anomalies and long-term psychological effects on individuals exposed to ANM-622 is ongoing, although no new manifestations have been reported since Savile's death. As of this latest review, ANM-622 has been provisionally classified as Neutralized, pending any future reappearances.
The content of this interview has been classified as Level 4 access due to the sensitive nature of the subject matter and possible connections to anomalous phenomena.
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𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝙿𝚝.𝟻
tw: kidnapping.
11:00 pm.
Seonghwa had let himself down the vent, trusting himself in the knots he tied on some pipes on the roof. His holo was dimly lit as he listened to Yeosang direct him towards the part of the vent that wouldn’t be seen by the cameras in the room – though, it’s not like Yeosang wouldn’t shut the cameras down for him to nab the implant anyway. Yeosang was directing him, the only thing yeosang saying to the older man being “left”, “right”, and the occasional “stop’. Other than that – radio silence.
As he crawled around in this small metal maze, and finally made it to the room; he arrived a minute earlier than expected, so he continued to where the guards were about to go on break, watching their mannerisms, watching how they act and how they interact; Seonghwa was able to decipher how they would act if they were to find him. Hwa was confident that these two knuckleheads would act first think later – that is, if they were capable of thought. BioBastion Inc., behind the scenes, was given under-the-table funding from their government for military research and implant development. This research and development included everything under the sun; human testing, torture, and even going as far as to change genetic makeups to create compumania, which was a kind of cyberpsychosis.
Compumania is a more developed, parasitic form of cyberpsychosis, creating a whole new person through the use of implants. When someone replaces their entire body – no organic matter – with cybernetic implants, it rips them into bits and feeds off of what they used to be. While it is still a dissociative disorder, it also affects their physical.
Seonghwa had been caught up in watching the two before he realized it was a minute off from their break, so he slid backwards in the vent, happy he was flexible enough to get back to his original position. He watched how the guards checked the lock when they went back to their position at the door and he looked around, noting how silent the room was. Seonghwa was thankful he had an infrared scanner built into his holo, just in case – Yunho truly thinks of everything.
His H.U.D read 11:10 pm, and as he expected, he was able to get down with no trouble. He got the signal from Yeosang that all the cameras would be off for two minutes before their systems caught it – kind of pathetic coming from a multimillion-dollar company. Yeosang was just that good.
“Two minutes.” Yeosang said through the holo.
Seonghwa skillfully removed the cover without making a sound and was able to drop down, expecting the room to be empty.
It wasn’t.
Where the schematics said there was going to be a pedestal, but instead, there was a procedure chair that had a body on it. A frail, small body. The body of a young girl (around 3 years old) in a hospital gown. Near her comatose body, he saw notes from what he was assuming would be the head researcher and doctors. She had the implant already attached. Judging by the notes, she was completely artificial, except the rosy fake skin that covered all the mechanical parts they built her out of.
Usually, something like this would go back to Hongjoong, but he was unreachable. Then the command would go to Seonghwa. “What do I do…?”
Fuck, they needed this implant.
This was the only time Seonghwa spoke to Yeosang. “The implant is in the girl.” Because of the time constraint, he panicked.
“Your choice, Hwa, but if we don’t get this implant, it sets us back 6 months.”
Fuck.
“One minute, by the way.”
After looking over the notes and the girl, he made his decision. From what he could tell (again, thank you Yunho (who would ever think of something like this?)), she had no tracker in her. Seonghwa stuffed all the notes he could find into a discarded document envelope and picked up the girl – she was as light as a feather; must be some sort of magnesium alloy.
“Thirty seconds, Hwa. You need to get out,” Yeosang said through the holo, his tone getting more and more worried each second. And so, he did. Seonghwa managed to keep her from falling off his back as he jumped, lifting the two of them through the vents again. He had to scale up through the vents again, and he had to do it silently, while staying as flat as he could so he didn't do any harm to the little one on his back. She couldn't be more than three years old.
'Fuck. Shit. Ass.' He mentally cursed with every movement, and he hurried himself up with the countdown that was ringing in his holo. He managed to get to the rope he had to climb up, and he brought the baby in front of him as best as he could, grabbing it before he climbed up it, using his long legs to shuffle him up.
10.
'Fuck.'
9.
'Fuck.'
8.
'Fuck.'
7.
'Fuck.'
6.
'Fuck.'
5.
'Fuck.'
4.
'Fuck.'
3.
'Fuck.'
2.
'Fuck. I'm gonna have Yeosang's head after this.'
1.
At the last moment, Seonghwa pulled the two up and out, panting heavily as he scurried to his feet. "I got the implant. And a little extra. I'm gonna need help with the extraction." Seonghwa had murmured into his holo, looking over the toddler. He saw a marking at the side of her neck.
3-ch.0-v1.
3-ch.0.
Echo.
✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘
New runners?: @beastfights-starting (🐉) @k-venturetime (👑) @thepatchedpaw (🔮) @redlight-cb (🚨) @mxthxbot (🌊) @kingdom-of-dicentra (🐺) @evicted-oc @teyvatcb @theonesxcb @mutant-academy @clubwnderland @supernaturalcb @kim-theo-oc @k-half-blood @namiras-rose-tattoos @ocmyths @your-au-boys @yourocboys @ateezmystery @lucky-charmsanhwa @enhanced-cb @onlyomega-cb @welcome-to-maniac @domxbot @reve-rv @coffeexdreamcb @cafe-bot @divineblood-cb @silcntxnight @actorxhyunjin @weeb-wonwoo @hybridclub @thegoodplace-oc @purgatoryxbot @project-takeover @fantasyxkingdoms @theinvitation-bot @yanderexcb @oc-honeys @dawnswonderland-entertainment @livealittleoc-cb @hleee @yuto-on-the-go @k-dislyte @chnchoi @league-of-assassins @screamcb @3rachabot @kq-rescuecenter @camboys-com
#jongho.shoots#yeosang.watches#wooyoung.talks#yunho.packs#san.slings#mingi.runs#seonghwa.plans#???.txt
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A vision to be at the helm of revolution in automotive innovations, leading night driving safety into the future. Night driving is rather a challenge on many counts. Statistics show that fatalities occur three times as much during nights than during days. Majorly people die from poor visibility, glare from the headlamps of vehicles coming from the opposite direction, and driver fatigue. Gupta's leadership has guided Deva Autotronics to work towards developing cutting-edge solutions in these areas that are particularly critical. Under the guidance of the man himself, the company pioneered certain technologies, such as an adaptive headlight whose output adjusts to both steering angles and oncoming traffic for better low beams with less glare than possible from traditional headlights. Infrared cameras have been integrated into night vision systems, so the driver can see pedestrians and animals far before it is possible to see them with a traditional car headlight. Automatic high-beam control systems ensure the best possible installed visibility without causing glare for other drivers and therefore greatly enhancing safety on roads. Gupta integrates artificial intelligence and machine learning into the above systems, and this enhances their effectiveness even further. These technologies ensure a real-time response to low-light conditions, thus making proactivity to safety much more possible with driving experience. Sushen Mohan Gupta's relentless pursuit of innovation is marking its leader, Deva Autotronics, as a symbol of advancement in car electronics by making nighttime driving safer and more enjoyable. Not only does his work go beyond enhancing road safety but also presents the grand vision of a technology-saving man; therefore, he is an important figure in future planning regarding the safety of automobiles.
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F1 Re-Watch 2013: Round 13 - Singapore
So I've been taking my sweet time in carrying on with my 2013 watch through bc a) following the 2023 season is eventful and b) I wanted to ensure I would have the proper time to watching Singapore in full because, for anyone who's new here, it is one of my absolute favourite races and on top of that it's a Seb win at Singapore so this race needed my undivided attention.
(also the race replay is two and a half hours)
I did watch this race at the time, and apart from Seb being iconic we also have the now-famous Webber-Alonso taxi ride, and my only other memory is Jev crashing out which 😭
fair warning I may go off about how pretty the track is, like, a lot:
Getting slightly triggered about Crofty talking about humidity after watching Qatar 2023, but we move on
*deep inhale* Singapore preeeeeeeeeetty 😍
So, starting grid overview!: Seb pole (🥰), Rosberg P2, Grosjean P3, Lewis P5, Fernando P7, Jenson P8, Dan P9, and Jev 12
Man, seeing Perez down in 14th knowing he won the race last year is quite the F1 whiplash.
Super Soft and Mediums are the tyre compounds for this race, and all but one driver (Sutil) are starting on the super softs.
oh. my. god. Seb's v sparkly helmet. I ADORE it.
[Formation Lap]: Aaaaaand cue the mad dash of mechanics and engineers running back to the garages.
"Let's go lesbians let's go!"
(am I talking about the mechanics, or the drivers on the formation lap, who's to say?)
(plot twist it's both)
oooh infrared camera on the tyres, love that
Seb's championship lead was over 50 points at this point in the season, please inject it into my veins at the earliest opportunity
[Start/Lap 1]: Rosberg leads into turn 1!!!
but he goes wide and Seb retakes P1
Also Fernando's up into P3, man's had speedy af starts since the dawn of time
[Lap 2]: whew the gap between Seb and Nico is already 1.9 seconds
argh Lewis has to give a place back to Massa for going wide, he's now P7
"Sebastian Vettel half a second quicker on this lap" THAT'S THE LION OF SINGAPORE BABY!!!
Lewis is running a non-yellow helmet but the camera isn't focusing on him for long enough for me to be able to tell what colour it is. It looks kinda pretty though.
(Stay tuned for more thrilling Helmet Watch updates)
[Lap 3]: oof Dan's down to P14 after starting P9
Current top 5 is: Seb, Rosberg, Alonso, Webber and Grosjean
With Seb having a 4.6 second gap over P2. 🏃♂️💨
Remember when they briefly called sprint race winners Speed Kings? That's Seb rn.
Gosh I will never ever tyre of watching the cars drive round Singapore, I really do love the track layout.
Every street circuit apart from Monaco wishes they were the Marina Bay Street Circuit.
Anyway, start replay! You can see Dan get bogged down, hence the drop in track position. Also Nico's start was pretty aggressive, had he not ran out of track he'd probably still be leading
oh, Lewis did the same thing to Massa as he did at Singapore this year 😭 (still love you mate don't worry)
[Lap 5]: "Remember there are safety cars out there, save your tyres" You can hear the mild passive aggressive 'Seb slow tf down' in Rocky's voice dvbjdfbj
He's 6.4 seconds ahead of Rosberg
[Lap 6]: Not much overtaking going on rn has to be said
[Lap 7]: Gosh I miss it when the cars had glossy liveries, they look so shiny under the floodlights
This is mainly why I have beef with matte liveries ngl
[Lap 8]: "Alonso P3 is holding the pack up" Singapore 2013 🤝 Monaco 2022: Bono calling out Fernando for on-track nonsense
I assume this is all to do with track gaps and pit windows and all those things I don't currently have the brain to do maths for
Oh I'd forgotten all about Seb and Mark's gearbox issues from Monza, they both have the same gearboxes in their cars rn
(I don't think we had any gearbox issues this race, but my memory of 10 years ago is obviously patchy)
[Lap 9]: Anyway, no change in grid order. The track is still pretty.
And a David Beckham sighing in the Merc garage!
[Lap 10]: Gap between Seb and Nico now just over 7 seconds
[Lap 11]: And Raikkonen is the fist car to pit, he takes another set of super softs
Comms and Ted speculating that with the tyre wear the drivers are reporting it's looking like a 3-stop race
[Lap 12]: An Alonso fastest lap, while Gutierrez and Jev pit
oof, replay of Lewis having a lock-up while chasing Massa
[Lap 13]: Rosberg with a 3.4 second gap over Alonso
[Lap 14]: Webber pits for mediums, Massa did the same a lap earlier
Jenson also pitted.
[Lap 15]: And in comes Alonso, also for mediums.
And Nico being called in to cover him almost immediately
Suddenly, Tom Jones
Anyway, traffic wise Alonso came out behind Di Resta, who's doing a great job at holding him up
[Lap 16]: and in pits Rosberg for mediums.
Merc with the double stack, Lewis has also pitted.
Top 5 currently: Seb*, Rosberg, Di Resta*, Fernando and Webber. Interestingly with Alonso being unable to pass Di Resta his gap to Mark is now only 1.2 seconds. (* = still to stop)
and cut to Maldonado v Perez v Hulkenberg for 11th
✨midfield spice✨
[Lap 17]: Seb with a 30 plus second gap over Rosberg, so he should retain the lead when he pits at the end of the lap
and he also takes on a set of mediums, and keeps the lead of the race
[Lap 18]: Di Resta remains the only car on track left to pit, Alonso still can't get past him
[Lap 19]: Seb is still doing Seb things, 8 second gap ahead of Rosberg
[Lap 20]: Make that 8.5
And Alonso is *still* behind Di Resta,
"These tyres feel terrible" "Message understood" The predecessor to "Bono my tyres are gone?" or are they genuinely shit? Lewis this is why I have trust issues
Helmet watch: finally a slow mo shot of Lewis, his helmet looks like it's all over silver which I love!!
(I absolutely will try and find pictures for my post-re-watch blogging later)
also also hi Merc pit wall!
[Lap 21]: After 84 years, Di Resta pits for his first stop
The top 10 is now: Seb, Rosberg, Alonso, Webber, Grosjean, Lewis, Di Resta, Massa, Jenson and Raikkonen
[Lap 22]: I don't know about you, but I'm feeling twenty-two...
(sorry, I had to)
[Lap 23]: Still not much racing going on
But Grosjean just set a purple first sector 👀
"We've seen a lot less driver errors this year" I fear an incoming commentator's curse now
[Lap 24]: And cut to Tom Jones sat with the Lotus mechanics
and in racing news, there's just over 4 seconds covering 3rd-6th place
And a Toto sighting in the Merc garage!
[Lap 25]: There's Dan in the wall at turn 13 😭
He's absolutely fine, the front end is ever so slightly dented as he was braking for the corner.
But there's are Safety Car
(also silly me for getting my Toro Rosso's confused)
[Lap 26]: and in come a whole bunch of cars to pit under the SC, though Seb, Rosberg and Webber have stayed out.
[Lap 27]: Can't say I have a lot of thoughts, I did manage to find pics of Lewis' helmet though! It's an early version of his white and red helmet design he ran for a good while, one of my favourites of his
[Lap 28]: Rocky giving Seb some restart coaching, bless
Alright I've restrained myself for long enough, the Singapore skyline at night is bloody gorgeous
[Lap 29]: "If Ted's been doing maths I want to hear this in full" I will give Crofty that one right
Ted's back! He thinks it's going to be a 57-58 laps race (ie hitting the two hour race limit before the full race distance of 61 laps)
[Lap 30]: SC in this lap!
"The radio failed when I talk" That's definitely something you want to hear mid-race 😬 (This was Rosberg hopefully talking to his engineer)
Anyway, looks like Seb's restarted!
[Lap 31]: Post SC pit-stops, the top 5 is: Seb, Rosberg, Webber, Lewis and Alonso
If we get a Lewis v Fernando battle I fear my heart may not take it
[Lap 32]: oof that's a lot of marbles on the main straight
Meanwhile, Seb is back to doing Seb things, 4.1 gap to Rosberg
Not Lewis thinking he'd ran over debris and asking to the to check his tyre pressures. stress.
I think he's fine
[Lap 33]: Seb fastest lap 🥰
"More collective groans from the sofas of the world" Respectfully Crofty, shut up.
Niki vibing at the back of the garage with David Beckham
oof Romain being told to pit because his engine is having a problem with air consumption??????
"What is wrong with this car" Great question mate
This is the most bizzare thing I have ever seen.
He's just sat there while a Renault engineer puts some air into the car.
Sheesh. He comes out in 21st.
[Lap 35]: Right, hopefully we don't have to do that again.
Also no I'm still not used to hearing GP on Di Resta's team radio.
Fun fact, super soft is the same in Italian as it is in English. This was brough to you by Andrea Stella's radio to Fernando
[Lap 37]: Seb has a 12 second gap over Rosberg. 🏃♂️💨💨
ooooooof replay of Gutierrez juuuust missing the barriers as he went off the track, well saved has to be said.
[Lap 38]: and just to add to Rosberg's woes he has a chunk of rubber stuck in his front wing, which is losing him a little bit of aero performance
[Lap 39]: ✨another Seb fastest lap✨
and a Lewis PB!!
Ahhh, RBR want Seb to build another pit stop gap in case he needs it. clever.
oh no Romain DNF :(
[Lap 40]: we're at 40mins left of race time.
Thankfully the TV graphics still have a lap count
[Lap 41]: Webber pits for another set of mediums
sounds like we might get another pit stop shuffle
[Lap 42]: and lo and behold in comes Rosberg, also pitting for another set of mediums
and he's jumped by Webber!
They're down in 11th and 12th but that will likely change with the cars ahead pitting.
Though there's a change Alonso (now P3) can go to the end
[Lap 44]: STOP THE RACE!!! JENSON IS P4!!!!!
also in comes Lewis , who also stops for mediums. He comes out in 10th
Okay now we can stop the race JENSON'S P3!!!!!
Seb also called into pit.
[Lap 45]: He takes on a set of super softs, and is clear ahead of Alonso in P2.
livery watch: god the glossy red Ferrari under the lights really does hit different, I miss it 😭
meanwhile Rosberg is arguing with his engineer about the strategy and whether or not he should be pushing or saving his tyres
this is all under the assumption that Fernando has to stop again when he technically doesn't have to.
[Lap 46]: Anyway I'm jus to going to stare at Jenson being P3 on the timing screen because I have MISSED IT SO
Perez is also running P5, McLaren have potentially pulled a blinder.
[Lap 47]: The slow mo shot of Seb in his sparkly helmet >>>>>>
[Lap 48]: The Merc pit wall realising they're going to have to overtake some cars since those ahead on track are trying to run to the end
since those guys (Alonso, the McLarens and Raikkonen) all pitted under the SC, it's not surprising that they're trying to stretch their second stint out for as long as they can
[Lap 49]: First Webber, then Rosberg get past Gutierrez who's on older tyres
aaaand as does Lewis. (Webber now P7, Rosberg P8, and Lewis P9)
[Lap 50]: It's quite fun watching this strategy stuff play out because at a regular track, it would absolutely favour the 3 stoppers, but with Singapore being a street track it's slightly more difficult to make it work
also: OVERTAKES!!
[Lap 51]: I find it hilarious that Seb going so fast is going to be the decider as to whether or not the race goes to full distance or the 2hr time limit. King shit.
(I love him your honour)
[Lap 52]: He has a 13.5 second gap over Alonso in P2.
"Lewis Hamilton is starting to gain on his team mate" *2014-2016 flashbacks*
[Lap 53]: Damn I wish I had snacks, watching Webber and the Mercs charge through the field is so fun
[Lap 54]: Jenson is still in P3 but I know he doesn't finish there :(
and Webber gets past Hulkenberg for P6!
and Raikkonen gets past Jenson 😭
it was fun while it lasted
Top 3 now: Seb, Alonso and Raikkonen
[Lap 55]: And both Mercs take Hulkenberg
Di Resta in the barriers, though not by much.
While that happened Webber got past Perez
[Lap 56]: ...and now Jenson
I am equal parts thriving and in the trenches
[Lap 57]: 🚨5 laps remaining klaxon🚨
and Rosberg takes Perez
oh Massa's here
and Webber's shortshifting issues have returned.
[sirens, gunshots, the distant sound of sobbing strategists]
Rosberg gets past Jenson, and Lewis gets past Perez.
[Lap 58]: And Lewis overtakes Jenson into turn 1
I have no idea where any of these guys are position wise. Damn the scrolling positions graphic.
[Lap 59]: and as I say that it scrolls back: Seb P1, Alonso P2, Raikkonen P3, Webber P4, Rosberg P5, Lewis P6
But Webber's just been told he has to nurse his car to the end
[Lap 60]: We've also got a 4 car battle for P8. Jenson, Perez, Hulkenberg and Sutil are all running nose to tail
And both Mercs take Webber in the span of a couple of corners.
[Lap 61]: Final lap!!
something about the duality of Red Bull drivers, the onboard with Webber does not sound healthy.
While Seb has 34 seconds over Alonso.
[Finish]: and SEB WINS IN SINGAPORE!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉
King. Shit.
Alonso P2, Raikkonen P3, Rosberg P4, Lewis P5, Massa P6, Jenson P7, Perez P8, Hulkenberg P9 and Sutil round out the top 10.
WHEW. That's probably one of Seb's most dominant wins ever. Which is like iconic as hell. And he drove so fast that we did make it to full race distance. I only really enjoyed the latter stages of watching the 3 stopper cars carve their way through the field. The nature of the circuit meant they had to work for it, and they were all really great overtakes.
So that was very, very fun. Next race - South Korea!
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Search and Rescue
The drone hadn’t moved. The S.O.S. script it periodically sent informing anyone sitting on the network that its power core was low. The flashing cry for attention on my visual feed every 15 minutes was annoying. ‘Accept’ or ‘Ignore’. It didn’t matter. Acknowledging the alert only mollified it for another 15 minutes. Choosing ‘Ignore’ was worse. Then it’d be back to whine at me in 5.
But aside from being a pain in my ass, it should have also been driving the Spoken in its company insane with an audible chime every time it sent the script. Theoretically, it should result in the Spoken powering down the drone or, in some cases, hurling it against the nearest hard surface to shut it up when they tried to find the power switch and failed. That should tell you a little about the average Spoken’s willingness to troubleshoot.
It was the middle of the night and I had been leaning against the door to Lumarto’s recovery room with my eyes closed. Not that I needed sleep like all the Spoken throughout the house, most of them in their beds by now, presumably. I don’t really care once they leave my feeds. But closing my eyelids was like putting a proverbial blanket over a bird cage. Or dimming the lights. I cycled through the camera feeds of the various drones posted throughout the house and grounds out of sheer boredom but this late at night everything was mostly silent.
//Power core life at 18%. Please initiate shutdown in the settings.
‘Accept’ or ‘Ignore’//
What the hell was Crific doing that he hadn’t shut the thing up already?
In annoyance, I pinged back.
//Location req.//
//Twelveswood. X 26.4, Y 18.2//
It hadn’t moved since it had sent the first power warning. That was five bells ago.
Either Crific had the patience of a saint (He did not). Or something had happened to him that had rendered him deaf to the incessant whining of the drone.
Technically, this wasn’t my problem. He wasn’t a contracted Heartwood employee and therefore I was under no obligation to go and investigate or render aid. It made no sense to leave my post. All sound reasons. But none of that mattered, I felt an emotion coming on and having them about Spoken just led to stupid decisions.
….
Gods damn it.
I pushed off from the door and went and roused Kevin. Groggy and disoriented it took him several minutes to even become alert enough to understand what I was telling him. Spoken are so fucking inefficient. If I had a response time of several *minutes* every time I came out from a charging cycle it’d be considered a malfunction.
“Atreus.” he blinked blearily. Then all the cylinders seemed to finally kick in and he came more fully awake, the mere fact I was there alerting him to the possibility something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
“You need to watch Lumarto’s door. I have to check on something in the Twelveswood.” I stated.
“S-sure.”
Once past the lantern light of the Lavender Beds, the Shroud was a thicket of darkness. The lack of light had my visual feeds switching automatically to night mode making everything a haze of shifting green and black outlines. I could have brought a light but that’d be like carrying a beacon for every nocturnal threat within a 1.6 malm range. I wasn’t looking for play time. I just wanted to find this idiot before he got himself killed. If he hadn’t already. It wasn’t that I was concerned about him personally. Because I wasn’t. Really. It’d look bad if he died with my own drone hovering two steps away. There’d be questions. How did I miss that? Why didn’t I do something? I hate questions.
Somewhere along my nighttime hike my drone snippily informed me it was shutting itself down. Because I’m an uncaring asshole that hadn’t initiated shutdown and now it was in the danger zone of 10% core power remaining.
Great. Now all I had to go off of was the last coordinates it had sent.
Moving through the dark woods, I switched on infrared to try and make this search easier. There. Off to the side in the underbrush lay a man-shaped heap at 25 yalms or so. I shifted my heading and started in that direction. Then, inexplicably, I seized up as an old data file hijacked my visuals. What the hell? More of Haila’s phantom virus?
No. The data file playing was from before Haila. Before Heartwood. A preliminary test of my systems back in Garlemald. A search and rescue mission in the blinding snow. The hijacked data file displayed the temperature in negative digits in the lower left corner of the screen and almost immediately I recalled the snow had a bite that day. At some point my temperature regulator had begun to malfunction. The output was no longer hot enough to wick away the falling snow and, driven by the wind, it had bit into my shell. Ice built up in my joints. But I wouldn’t give up.
I had found Three much like this. Like Crific. A heap that had been out in that environment so long snow had covered most of his body. But as I reached out for Three, a hidden sniper’s shot tore my arm off at the elbow joint. That was the first time I’d ever lost a part of me and I remember feeling the sudden injury explode across my systems, pain indicators sending a flush of wound sealant racing to the sight before I could crank it down.
I had crouched down low over Three and popped a magitek shield over both of us. Hunched protectively over him, scrambled and disoriented, all I could parse was how much I wanted to return to the familiar hum of the research facility. Lucius would fix my arm. I’d sit in the lab and watch him work on his other projects.
The snow popped next to me as the sniper fired again and missed. I felt my severed arm still broadcasting among the cacophony of system alarms. I’d never experienced so many before and my central unit was in danger of overload. I’d have to kill my network to silence it all but I needed the network. Without it, I was as blind and defenseless as a pitiful Spoken. My drones baited the sniper, using the shots fired to triangulate a position and move in while my sensory outputs told me that just beneath the snow, under Three, was a metal plate. And a control panel.
Shoving the unresponsive bot to one side, I hit the panel. The plate slid open and Three and I were lowered down into the safety of the research bunker.
The rest of the data file was corrupted. The playback jumped and jerked as I tried to kill whatever .exe file had started this horror trip down memory lane.
“Four! You…made it. Let’s…that arm. Sorry I had to shoot you back there.”
In a move born of sheer desperation, I cut all visual and audio. Great. Now I was blind and deaf in the middle of the fucking Shroud. My threat assessment was malfunctioning and flying into the red despite the fact that even deaf and blind I knew there was nothing out there but a dying man. Get a hold of yourself. One by one, I restarted the systems. Everything was functioning normally. Crific still lay several yalms ahead. There were no fucking snipers in the trees. This wasn’t Garlemald.
I surged ahead and as I approached he attempted to roll over to face me. And do what? Who the hell knows. A quick bio scan told me he wasn’t capable of much at the moment. A fractured sternum, eight broken ribs, internal bleeding. External bleeding. Just a lot of blood inside and out. He looked like hell.
“I have to imagine on some level you’re aware of how illogical and stupid you are.” Again, here’s where I would have sighed but he wasn’t going to notice the effort. So why bother?
“Sergi…?” he could somehow talk. “I’m fine.”
Yeah. I found that as ridiculous as you’d expect.
“Where the fuck did you think you were going to go?” Because a part of me really was curious as to how someone like him thought and functioned moment by moment.
“Can’t--risk it...”
I leaned down, pocketed the dead drone and hefted him over a shoulder, ignoring his protests. I’m not a medic. And he couldn’t risk staying put and getting aid at Heartwood? Too fucking bad. Because that’s where we were headed. It was now my job to get him back and prevent his untimely demise. Again. The man had more spare lives than a fucking cat. If I wasn’t so annoyed and jarred I could almost respect his pathological need to keep tossing them away. I began backtracking toward the Company house.
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Assassins
"20 feet away, Joshua Taylor", y/n spoke, holding the binocular close to her eyes.
Harry pulled the trigger.
"26 feet away, Chadwick Rowland II"
Again, the trigger was pulled.
"32 feet away, Davin Miller"
The trigger was pulled.
"Those complete the six targets we have been assigned.", you spoke, removing the binoculars from your vision. "Then what are you waiting for? The border army will be here anytime soon. Start the engine", he commanded to give a side-eye to you as you got up to your feet.
"Sir, there seems to be a drone around the area. Guess the mafia gang makes a move", you spoke frantically as you looked up the sky, more so with the binoculars.
"Then don't waste any more time, it's a matter of time before the army tanks come for us. Come in, quick", he motioned for you and you entered. "Prepare the gun", he ordered.
___________
"Sir, they are shooting at us, what do we do, chief?", a random army-man in the tank spoke. "Don't think about it, blast the whole thing.", the chief ordered and the triggers were pulled. The car in front of them blasted in a blaze.
___________
"Are you fine?", Harry asked you by the side of the boulder, you both hid behind in. "Yes", you choked out.
___________
"Prepare the gun", he ordered and you gave a questionable look. "It's over if the drone finds us. They can see the engine heat through their infrared camera.", he speaks, as you load the gun. "Then, wouldn't it be favorable to drive with lights off?", you ask him. "If they are going to find us, it's only fair if we make it more noticeable by driving with headlights on", he smirks. "The gun. Hang it from the ceiling and pull a wire through the trigger. Once the gun sways because of the road, it will automatically shoot. The drone camera is brilliant, but there is one con, they just have one of those. I'm sure it's going to focus on a conspicuous target and prioritize it. While it's focusing on the running vehicle, we'll jump out. In the meantime, the tanks will shoot back if they're attacked. And if they hit the engine and blast this vehicle off, it's our win", he explained, and you followed through with the plan.
___________
"Damn, amateurs", he mutters under his breath as he notices your wound which you got while jumping out. "Excuse you, I'm not an amateur. I have completed my training from the organization--", he cuts you off, "don't get too much arrogant. There are a number of people who complete their training from the organization and yet end up dead in their first mission. You survived. Be grateful to me", he sneered.
"Grateful to you? You'd have died the same if I hadn't recognized the drone", you mutter and something tick off in him, and a gun is pointing at you. Your gun.
"You know what is this?", he asked. "I-It's my gun", you choke out. "Correct. And you know how it's with me? No, of course, you don't, because you are too trusting of me. I could kill you right here to evade all evidence of our dirty work. And you aren't fighting back even. I swear I could do much better when I was at your stage. You brag about being the best in your class, but that just proves your class is a trash.", he finishes, pressing the gun tight to your forehead. "Sleep", he mutters angrily, throwing the gun to the side. "We'll move tomorrow because the temperature difference between the land and the sky is huge and they can easily find us. We'll wait for the sun to rise", he speaks. He feels you pick the gun up and point at him.
"Sleep", he speaks. "Don't move", you mutter. "Sleep, " "I'll shoot you" "Sleep, " "You think I can't kill you?" "Damn amateurs", he sighs. "You should've noticed from start", he says as he drops the bullets. When did he? "Why do you think I would hand back a loaded gun to you after I have just threatened you with it? There's a limit to which you can be gullible", he mutters turning to his side and sleeping.
DAMN IT!
#harrystyles#harrystylesfanfiction#harrystylesfanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harrystylesblurb#harry styles daily#harry styles angst#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x y/n#harry styles love on tour#fine line#lightsup#golden#harry styles assassin#it flopped on my instagram so trying my luck on tumblr
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-An XA3J-1 at North American's factory during roll-out. Photo: North American Aviation
FLIGHTLINE: 152 - NORTH AMERICAN AVIATION A-5 VIGILANTE
Designed as a carrier-based supersonic bomber in the 1950s, the Vigilante saw service over Vietnam as a recon plane before being retired in 1979.
Development of what became the A-5 began in 1954 when North American Aviation started a internal program. Seeking to turn around the company's fortunes after the failed XA2J Super Savage, NAA began designing a Mach 2 capable bomber which would give the Navy a nuclear strike option. The initial design, known as the North American General Purpose Attack Weapon (NAGPAW) was evaluated by the US Navy, which replied with a series of needed changes and in July 1955 an initial design contract was awarded, which included a single mockup of the plane. NAA's engineers were able to successfully address the USN's concerns about the design, and in September 1956 a contract for two flying prototypes was signed.
-Orthograph of the A-5 Vigilante. | Illustration: aviastar
DESIGN
The plane, designated XA3J-1, was one of the largest and by far the most complex aircraft to be proposed to operate from a USN aircraft carrier. It had a high-mounted swept wing with a boundary-layer control system (blown flaps) to improve low-speed lift. There were no ailerons, roll control was provided by spoilers in conjunction with differential deflection of the all-moving tail surfaces. Power was provided by two widely spaced General Electric J79 turbojet engines (also used on the Convair B-58 and McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II), fed by variable intake ramps. A single large all-moving vertical stabilizer was paired with the all-moving horizontal stabilizers. In order to save space, the wings, tail and radome were all folding. The XA3J had a crew of two seated in tandem, a pilot and a bombardier-navigator (BN) (reconnaissance/attack navigator (RAN) on later reconnaissance versions), who had some of the most advanced equipment of the time, including an early fly-by-wire system (with electromechanical backup), a primitive HUD system, a multi-mode, radar-equipped inertial navigation system, a TV camera in the nose, and a digital computer to run it all.
In order to make the bomber as streamlined as was possible, it was designed to carry additional fuel tanks and a single B27, B28 or B43 freefall nuclear bomb in internal weapons bay, which would be jettisoned over the target as a single "stores train". Provisions were also made to carry two B43 nukes or Mark 83 or Mark 84 conventional bombs on two external hardpoints, or drop tanks to increase range. Operationally however, these hardpoints were rarely used.
-Internal bomb bay and stores train of the North American A3J-1/A-5A Vigilante. | Illustration: Cobatfor
FLIGHT TESTING, INTRODUCTION, AND SERVICE
First flight of the XA3J was on 31 August 1958 from the same Columbus, OH plant that produced the F-86 and F-100s. Despite one of the prototypes crashing in 1959, the flight tests moved quickly, and by June 1961 the first A3J-1s entered service with Heavy Attack Squadron Three (VAH-3) at NAS Stanford, FL, replacing the Douglas A3D Skywarrior. The following year the plane was redesignated the A-5A under the new tri-service plan. The service life of the A-5A was fraught with issues, with numerous teething problems plaguing its advanced systems. These issues were tamed as maintenance crews became experienced with the Vig's high-tech gadgets, but the plane remained maintenance-intensive (a so-called "hangar-queen") throughout its life. A chronic issue was the stores train bomb release, which had a nasty habit of releasing during catapult shots, resulting in at least one crash. During tests, the train also tended to draft along in the aircraft's slipstream, making accurate bombing (for 1950s/60s definitions of "accurate") difficult.
-Five A3J-1 Vigilantes of VAH-7 ("Peacemakers of the Fleet") on CVAN-65 USS Enterprise in 1962. | Photo: USN
Fifty-eight A-5A were completed (out of an order of 64 aircraft) when NAA switched to the upgraded A-5B model. The B model incorporated changes made in light of the Navy's requirement that the Vigilante be able to take off at max weight with zero wind over the carrier being rescinded. This change allowed North American to increase the bomber's weight, adding a dorsal hump to carry more fuel. Only 18 of the A-5B were completed before the US Navy, undergoing a shift in policy away from manned nuclear bombers, canceled the order.
-North American A3J-2 Vigilante (BuNo 146699), circa 1960. This aircraft was the third production A3J-1 which was then modified to an A3J-2 (after 1962 A-5B and YA-5C) and finally to the A3J-3P (RA-5C). | Photo: US Navy
Developed from the A3J-2, the A3J-3P (later RA-5C) was a strike/reconnaissance variant of the Vigilante, incorporating the CCTV in the nose with a "canoe" fairing holding a full suite of gear including:
KA-51A/B forward-looking oblique angle film camera.
KA-50A, KA-51A, or KA-62A vertical film camera.
Passive electronics countermeasures (PECM) antenna for the AN/ALQ-61 Electronic Reconnaissance System. The AN/ALQ-61 was an "electronic intelligence (ELINT)" system that would pick up radar emissions and pin down their coordinates, frequency, and pulse pattern. The ELINT data was recorded on magnetic tape, with storage capacity for 112 minutes of continuous ELINT observations.
Various combinations of panoramic, vertical, or oblique film cameras. Camera fit included KA-58A panoramic camera for medium- to high-altitude work, or a KA-57A panoramic camera for low-altitude work. The cameras shot through prisms in the canoe that could be pivoted to permit shots straight down or from side to side.
AN/AAS-21 infrared sensor, which could provide a continuous film strip of thermal targets, such as hidden trucks, over a field of view 140 degrees wide.
Antenna for the Westinghouse AN/APD-7 "side looking airborne radar (SLAR)" system, which shot radar pulses out to the side of the aircraft and stored the return echo on a long film strip, permitting all-weather, day-night imaging.
Another PECM antenna for the AN/ALQ-21 system.
Additionally, a flash pod, powered by a ram-air turbine in its tail, could be carried under one wing to provide illumination for nighttime recon. The sensors were operated by the back-seater (also known as a "GIB": guy-in-back), formally called a "reconnaissance-attack navigator (RAN)". The bomb bay was filled with semi-permanent fuel tanks (though the plane apparently retained the ability to carry offensive weapons, this was never tested or confirmed). The remaining A-5A and A-5B aircraft were all converted to RA-5C standards, along with 33 new-build aircraft. Squadrons that had formerly flown the A-5 were transitioned to the RA-5 beginning with VAH-3 in July 1963, becoming Reconnaissance Attack Squadrons (RVAH) as they did so. Eventually ten squadrons of RA-5s were established, with the NAS Stanford RVAH-3 being joined by carrier-based RVAH-1, RVAH-5, RVAH-6, RVAH-7, RVAH-9, RVAH-11, RVAH-12, RVAH-13 and RVAH-14.
-RA-5C Vigilante of Reconnaissance Heavy Attack Squadron 3 (RVAH-3) "Sea Dragons" is parked on the flight line at Naval Air Station Sanford, Florida, on 27 March 1968. - | Photo: US Navy
Starting in July 1964, the RA-5Cs saw extensive service over Vietnam, carrying out dangerous post-strike damage assessment missions. Although fast and nimble, the Vig proved vulnerable to ground fire, with 14 RA-5s lost to AAA, 3 to SAMs and one shot down by a NVA MiG-21. Nine more were lost to accidents, and as a result three dozen additional aircraft were built between 1968 and 1970. Despite providing invaluable reconnaissance data, the RA-5 began to be phased out starting in 1968, with NAS Stanford being closed and the Vigilante's parent wing, Reconnaissance Attack Wing One, being transferred to Turner AFB in Georgia, which was turned over to the Navy and renamed NAS Albany. Barely six years later, NAS Albany was closed as a result of post-Vietnam drawdowns, and the remaining RA-5s were transferred again to NAS Key West. As newer and larger aircraft like the F-14 and S-3 were introduced in the mid-70s, the Navy began disestablishment of the RA-5 squadrons, with the last leaving Key West on 20 November 1979.
NASA, THE RAAF, AND THE USAF
At least one A3J-1 was bailed to NASA for a time while the Dryden FRC was participating in research for the US SST program. In 1962 Vigilante BuNo 147858 was given NASA tail number 858 and was flown by NASA pilot Bill Dana on 21 flights along airways around LAX to determine approach conditions for an SST landing patterns. After the conclusion of the program, the plane was returned to the Navy.
-NASA's A3J-1, wearing a day-glo orange tail flash, on 19 December 1962. | Photo: NASA DFRC
The RAAF was interested in the A-5 as a possible replacement for their aging Canberra bombers, considering the Vig alongside the F-4, Dassault Mirage IVA, BAC TSR-2 and F-111. Despite the A-5 being available without the delay anticipated for the F-111, the order for three dozen Vigilantes was not issued.
At some point in the Vigilante's development, North American advanced a proposal to the Air Force for the 'Retaliator', an A-5 with a liquid rocket added to the bomb bay, as an interceptor, but the USAF showed no interest. In 1972 NAA again proposed a modified A-5, known internally as the NR-349, to the USAF as an Improved Manned Interceptor. The internal bomb bay was modified to house a third jet, and six AIM-54 Phoenix missiles would be carried under the fuselage. Again the USAF was uninterested.
-Scale model of the Improved Manned Interceptor concept, in USAF markings. | Model: NAA/Rockwell
SURVIVORS
By 2004, all of the surviving RA-5s that had been retired to AMARG had been either scrapped or preserved as museum aircraft. A limited number of aircraft were still in storage at NAWS China Lake for eventual use in weapons tests. Around a dozen aircraft have been retained in museums around the US, with only one A-5A on display at NAS Pax River in Maryland, the balance being RA-5s.
-BuNo 146697, the sole remaining A-5A, on display at Pax River. | Photo: Richard Lane
-RA-5C Vigilante (BuNo 151629) on display at the Pueblo Weisbrod Aircraft Museum. It wears the markings of the fleet replacement squadron RVAH-3 Sea Dragons. | Photo: Kristian Jones
#aircraft#aviation#avgeek#airplanes#cold war#airplane#cold war history#coldwar#aviation history#us navy#usn#north american aviation#north american a 5a#a3j-1 Vigilante#a-5a Vigilante#a5a Vigilante#a 5a Vigilante#ra5c Vigilante#ra5c
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Kicksaddict Sneakerhead PROFILES Interview Series: @CakedaGawd
After a long Hiatus, we’ve returned! Our popular Profile series has been requested almost on a daily basis (Thanks for the tweets, dms and emails). We were even threatened! (Thanks by the way).
Cake The Gawd! This one was so much fun. Tap in.
Where are you from? Brooklyn, NY born in Crown Heights raised in East Flatbush.
How long have you been collecting sneakers? I was introduced to sneakers in 1991 but I started collecting for myself in 98.
What’s your favorite sneaker and why? Air Jordan 6 Infrared. It's the shoe Michael was wearing when he won his first championship, and to me just it’s just the most beautiful Jordan shoe to date! The silhouette is unmatched, it is timeless, and no matter how many times it is retroed I will buy it!
Besides your hometown, what is the best city for sneakerheads that you know of? Why? I would say LA 100% !! It is a vibe out there. I am part of a sneaker group and 75% of the people in there are from LA. They really about the culture they know their shit and they are fresh as fuck too.
Do you collect just for collecting or do you collect and rock? I collect and rock. That is why I double up on certain shoes.. Some kicks you gotta have for store and show but some you just have to rock them!
What sneaker got you into the sneaker game? I cannot pinpoint one thing, it is so many things. It was Music, my parents introducing me to Nike, my older cousin, basketball, the dope boys around the way, and my 3rd grade crush and her cousin who both had Aqua 8's. (LOL) I cannot just say 1 thing because they all had a significant part in it.
What are your thoughts on these fake celebrity sneakerheads? I hate them all! All of these dudes just get perks, some of them do not even know the shoes. That shit really gets under my skin. Showing off shoes that they get and not even knowing the name or numbers of the shoes, creating their own names. Shit is sickening. S/O to the Sneaker Gawd Wale !
How do you feel about the Off white collabs? I liked the first round of the collabs. With the Presto's, Air maxes, Blazers, and Jordan 1's. I think after that it should've been left alone. But I can respect what they are doing over there. I just won my first pair of Off-White's with the Lot 50 joint.
If you could wear only one sneaker for the rest of your life, what would it be? Air Jordan 3 Black Cement. Yes 6's are my favorite of all time but the Black Cement 3's just go with EVERYTHING!
What advice would you give as far as storing and preservation of your sneakers? Wear your kicks man. I store and rock! I get it, wanting to save shoes but putting them away and never rocking them, when you finally do ya it’s separating and crumbling. In order for your kicks to last they gotta be worn anyway. Unless you're truly just on some collecting only for show vibes.
What is the most you’ve ever spent on a pair of sneakers? $900... I was able to land Black and Red and Royal 1's from 2001 together. A friend of mine had them and said he couldn't think of anyone else. I had literally just started my new job. A chunk of my first check went to that pick up.
Have you ever waited in line for a pair of kicks? I waited in line once in my life for shoes and swore I would never do it again. It was for the 2001 True Blue 3's. I waited online at like 7 in the morning at Kings Plaza. LMAO I said this will never happen again. I didn't have the patience for it. I do not know how ppl used to do that shit or camp for kicks. I was there for 1 hour and I was like this is ridiculous.
You're also a photographer, how long have you been taking photos? I have been taking photos since 2011 but officially became a photographer in 2013.
How do sneakers play a role in your photography? That is a great question because I didn't want the 2 to mix at all. Because I'm a scenery and landscape photographer. But I got into photography because of sneakers. No offense to anyone but a bunch of these "influencers" get on IG with their DSLR cameras, take some on foot shots and call themselves "Photographers". 90% of them do not even understand lighting. I didn't wanna be one of those guys because I actually live this and study it. But recently I just started letting it be that and owning it. I am nice with this photography shit when it comes to sneakers. I have a deep connection with shoes and I love incorporating that into my art. I thank my wife for that. I told her I don't wanna be just another sneaker photographer and she said to me who said you have to be ?! I took that and ran with it. Off-White just recently featured some of my pictures on their Instagram.
I remember you saying you're a sneaker enthusiast, what is the difference between that and a sneakerhead? An enthusiast really studies sneakers. Sneakerheads just love sneakers like it ain't really about the history and all that for them. They just love shoes because it is cool and makes them feel good. Us Enthusiasts are invested. Things matter like knowing years of a shoe. For example, an enthusiast would look at a pair of Jordan's like Taxi 12's, We know Michael wore those in the 1996 - 97 season, but we also know that Martin gave away a pair on his show for the Christmas episode to the kid who had holes in shoes. They are tied to iconic moments. A sneakerhead may love Bordeaux 7's because they are dope looking shoes. Where for me it's that Michael Jordan wore those in a video with Michael Jackson and Kris Kross in the 92 Jam video. MJ and MJ in a video with Kris Kross, do you know what that did to my childhood?! Give you one more example that is not even Michael Jordan related. Piggy backing off of Kris Kross,The Patrick Ewing’s were one of my favorite kicks growing up besides seeing Pat play in them one of my favorite Hip Hop covers of all time is "Totally Krossed Out" and Kris Kross is wearing both colorways. So you see what I mean there is so much tied to it with being an enthusiast. This is just my opinion though some may not agree so don't shoot me! (Ha)
From the time you started collecting up until now, would you say that the sneaker game changed for the best or the worst? I have been collecting for 20 plus years now. I have seen the game at it's best, I have seen it die, I have seen it revive, and now I am witnessing the death of it again. The sneaker game is disgusting right now, and I honestly do not think it will ever recover. It really saddens me. It is a popularity and money contest right now.
Does pricing affect your collection? Hell No! And I hate that some people are trying to make this the norm. IDGAF if you paid $500 - $2000 for a pair, It doesn't mean shit. The narrative is getting outta hand.
What does the word “Hypebeast” mean to you? Hypebeast is a person that only buys shit for status and popularity. They cannot form their own opinion about shit. They have to wear and cop items based on what every celeb is wearing or whatever these Social Media "Influencers" are saying is hot! It is not only sneaker related either. N*ggaz were hypebeasting for PS5 last year..
What are your thoughts on the females in the sneaker game? They are the best! I wish we had a Sneaker union and it was only run by females! The men in this game are annoying and so over the top. It is so bad that they feel the need to compete with women. The men get shoes just to show off to one another. Like what type of shit is that? The females are cool. I had a dude on twitter tell me women don't know the value of a shoe let alone about the shoe. The men feel like they always gotta try to shit on the women. The women are just trying to be part of the culture and enjoy it. And they shouldn't have to try to be part of something that is open to anyone who is willing to be invested and understand the culture.
Any advice for a young kid coming up in the sneaker game? Wear what you like! Respect the game and the people who have been doing it before you. Because this new generation of sneakerheads are little entitled dicks. No respect whatsoever!! I don't care about Travis Scott shoes. Without Jordan being who he is Travis wouldn't have a Jordan silhouette to collaborate with! Same with Off-White. These silhouettes were here before these guys. Say know your history and pay homage!! BUT STAY humble.
See I follow you and I'm loving the way you include your daughter in your work, what does that mean to you? Man, it is beautiful!!!! Without even trying she is invested in the culture. Both photography and shoes. Myself and my wife are both heavy into photography, art, music, sneakers, and clothes. My daughter is into all the same things but we are letting it be her own experience. We are not forcing anything on her. We want her to enjoy being a child and whatever things she picks up from us along the way is just a bonus. But I love shooting her, and I love when she asks myself and her mother "do we like her fit". It is truly a blessing man!
All photos by CAKEDAGAWD
Follow : https://twitter.com/CakedaGawd
https://www.instagram.com/whatsinthesyrup/
#Kicksaddict#cake#photographer#cakedagawd#airjordan#airjordan1#airjordan6#clothing#baby#infrared#airjordan4
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Curiosity Killed the Cat Burglar (Tony Stark X Reader)
ANONYMOUS: You write for marvel? Awesome! Ive always wondered ehat would happen if someone tried to reverse engineer one of Tony's suits just for curiosity instead of evil or money... could you write something where Tony finds reader doing something like that? Thanks!!
Summary: You’ve been training yourself for months for this mission (not even counting the time you’d spent learning all the skills you would need in order to even make it a possibility), and now you’re finally here, so close to what you’ve been waiting for for so long…it almost feels too easy.
You’ve been training yourself for months for this mission (not even counting the time you’d spent learning all the skills you would need in order to even make it a possibility), and now you’re finally here, so close to what you’ve been waiting for for so long… it almost feels too easy.
You’d spent weeks perfecting the software that let you into the Stark Industries mainframe so you could access the blueprints of the ventilation system. You’d taken great lengths to memorise the layout; you could recreate the map flawlessly if called upon to do so. You’d made a backup plan for absolutely anything and everything that could possibly go wrong.
And now that it’s working, it just doesn’t feel right.
As you slip into the elevator, pressing the button that will take you to the floor housing Stark’s workshop with a gloved hand, you have the distinct sensation of being watched. You send an uneasy glance around the elevator and are unable to detect any cameras, but you’re well aware that means nothing; there could be thermal scanners, pressure pads, or even something as simple as hidden cameras in the walls or ceiling. Stark is as sneaky as he is clever, and you’re the last one to underestimate him.
He is your hero, after all.
--
The elevator doesn’t make a sound as it reaches the workshop floor, nor as the doors open with a smooth glide, and it’s equal parts unnerving and impressive. You don’t waste time studying the elevator, though; you leave the elevator car, creeping down the hall until you come to a wall of glass.
All that’s between you and your goal now are a keypad and a shatterproof glass door.
You pull the hacking device you custom built and programmed from your belt and attach it to the keypad. Numbers scroll across the screen until, finally, the security code is displayed in blinking green.
You grin in satisfaction and press the appropriate numbers. The door opens.
You’re in.
You stalk into the darkened shop, padding across the floor without making a sound. You reach up and pull down a pair of homebrew infrared goggles.
Let’s see. If I was a super-genius, where would I keep a high-tech, flying suit of armour?
You see some display cases on the other end of the room -- you’re unsurprised to see that Stark preserves his old suits, considering how attached he seems to be to them -- and are preparing to search for the mechanism that will open the cases, but it’s not necessary; there’s a half-assembled suit laid out on one of the work benches, as though its owner left in the middle of performing repairs on it.
Jackpot! You hadn’t dared hope you would get this lucky; the newest model of the Iron Man suit, just laying there in the open, completely unguarded? This is better than anything you could’ve dreamed of!
You approach the workbench, stepping over and around other half-complete projects that Stark has left scattered around. There are what you assume to be deactivated automated assistants, too, arm-like structures with claw shaped grasping appendages on the ends.
Under different circumstances, you would love to stick around and see what this place looks like when it’s up and running at full capacity. You bet it’s amazing.
You shake those thoughts from your head. Focus on the task at hand, you remind yourself. Your window is incredibly small.
You carefully open the faceplate of the helmet and search for a data upload terminal. Once you’ve found it, you pull your scanner from your belt and attach it to the terminal, activating it. Your heart flutters giddily. You’re so close.
And then, a voice says, “Right, I think I’ve let this go a little too far. JARVIS, lights.”
The lights slowly start to come up. You hastily remove your goggles and turn to find none other than Tony Stark standing at the far end of the room.
He smiles and waves shortly. “Hi. I’d introduce myself, but,” he swirls his finger in a circle, “seeing as we’re here, I’m pretty sure it’s not necessary.”
You’re completely dumbfounded. You have no idea what to do, what to say -- how do you explain yourself?
You came up with a plan for every scenario, except for the one where you got caught.
“Uh,” you begin, “I… I don’t… I mean, I’m not-- It’s not--”
“You, on the other hand, have some serious explaining to do. You could start with who you are, for example, and why you’re in my house, and how in the hell you managed to build a bunch of shit that neutralised my security measures.” He points an accusatory finger at you. “You hacked me. Nobody does that, nobody has ever done that. How did you do that?”
You open and close your mouth, at a total loss for words. “W-Well, um, I… I just did?” It’s a terrible explanation and you know it. You kind of want to dissolve into the floor; this was not how this was supposed to go, not at all.
Stark looks incredulous. “You… just did. Huh. Okay. Well, I just thought I’d let you know I went along with this little charade because, if we’re being honest, I found the concept of someone smart enough to hack Stark Industries enticing. I figured I’d just wait and see where you were going with it. But, since you were just after the suit -- totally boring motivation, by the way, that’s been done like a thousand times by now, what is it, money or power? -- I’m gonna have to see you out now.” He pulls out a wafer-thin, see through card and taps on it. “Jay, let Happy know we have an interloper on sublevel--”
“Wait!” You cry out. “Wait, please don’t kick me out!”
He looks at you, quirking a brow. “And why should I not?”
You fidget awkwardly, feeling a little stupid in your thief getup. “I… I didn’t want the suit to sell it, or weaponise it, or whatever. I just wanted to see if I could… If I could make one better,” you admit, your face reddening.
Stark is silent for a moment, which you aren’t sure is a good thing. Then, he says, “Huh. Okay,” and the way he says ‘okay’ turns it into a four-syllable word. “So, you broke into my house, disabled all my security, and entered my private workshop without permission… because you were curious?”
You nod, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” he says, with a hint of a smile. “Not so sure about the cat burglar.”
“But satisfaction brought it back,” you retort.
“And you’re feeling satisfied with yourself, are you?”
You shrug, starting to relax as you settle into the rhythm of the banter. “I could be. Depends whether or not you’re planning to call the cops on me.”
The hint of smile turns into an outright grin. “And ruin this thing we’ve got goin’ on? Now, why in the world would I do that?”
You laugh. “...Does this mean I get to look at the suit after all?”
Stark makes a show of considering your request. “We can work up to it,” he says. “After you show me what you’re really capable of.”
--
You spend what must be hours down in the workshop -- Tony Stark’s workshop! -- shyly explaining how your devices work, and then you move upstairs to the living room and spread out schematics across the table, trying valiantly not to explode on the spot when the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were, like, ten tells you your craftsmanship and code are just about as good as anything he’s ever seen, which is really saying something.
You’re so focused on trying to seem like you don’t care that much about his approval that when he says, “So, hey, how about next week, we meet up somewhere for a little intellectual conversation over coffee?” you nearly miss it. (‘Nearly’ being the operative word, of course.)
“I… What?”
“Unless you don’t like coffee. We could do lunch,” he continues, and somehow, he almost seems as nervous as you were just a moment ago.
The idea of Tony Stark being nervous to ask you for coffee or lunch -- you, of all people -- is laughable, so much so that it sends all your nerves running for the hills.
“Yeah,” you say. “No, I mean, coffee’s fine. I love coffee.”
He nods. “Good. Good, I’ll see you then. Hopefully this time you won’t break into my house beforehand.”
You fluster immediately at that, stammering, and he waves it off.
“Kidding,” he says. “I let you get in, remember? You’re fun, you’re a good,” he waves his hand as if trying to summon the words from nowhere. “Conversationalist. You grok me.”
You nod.
He slaps his knees and clears his throat. “Welp,” he says, standing up, “it’s been fun, but as everyone in my life loves to remind me, I have a company to run, so as much as I would love to spend the rest of the day talking about fun stuff, I sorta can’t. Walk you to the door?”
“Sure.”
He sees you out, reminding you not to forget about your “little rendezvous next week, I’ll pick you up and take you someplace swanky, my treat.”
You don’t feel nervous about it at all. You just met your idol, and all you had to do was break into his house and try to steal the plans for his top-secret superhero suit.
You can’t wait to find out what he wants to talk about next week.
#marvel x reader#marvel reader insert#marvel fanfiction#marvel#iron man x reader#iron man reader insert#iron man#tony stark x reader#tony stark#writing#writing blog#reader insert blog#x reader blog#breaking and entering#burglary#cat burglar#swearing
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