#Autonomous taxi

[omshinde5145]

Robotaxi Market Share, Sales Channels and Overview Till 2030

The Robotaxi Market was valued at USD 0.5 billion in 2023 and will surpass USD 42.1 billion by 2030; growing at a CAGR of 88.4% during 2024 - 2030. These autonomous vehicles, designed to operate without a human driver, are poised to revolutionize urban mobility, offering a glimpse into a world where transportation is safer, more efficient, and more accessible. The robotaxi market, though still in its nascent stages, is growing at an unprecedented pace, driven by advances in artificial intelligence, machine learning, and automotive technology.

The concept of robotaxis represents a paradigm shift in how we think about transportation. Unlike traditional taxis or ridesharing services, robotaxis are fully autonomous, relying on a combination of sensors, cameras, and sophisticated algorithms to navigate complex urban environments. This autonomy eliminates the need for a human driver, which not only reduces operating costs but also addresses some of the key challenges facing the transportation industry, such as driver shortages and safety concerns.

Get a Sample Report: https://intentmarketresearch.com/request-sample/robotaxi-market-3650.html

Market Growth and Key Players

The robotaxi market is expected to witness significant growth over the next decade, driven by the increasing demand for autonomous vehicles and the rapid development of supporting technologies. Major automotive manufacturers, technology companies, and startups are all vying for a share of this emerging market. Companies like Tesla, Waymo (a subsidiary of Alphabet Inc.), and Cruise (backed by General Motors) are leading the charge, each with their own approach to developing and deploying robotaxi fleets.

In addition to these established players, numerous startups are entering the fray, bringing innovative solutions to the table. For instance, companies like Zoox, Aurora, and Nuro are exploring different aspects of the robotaxi ecosystem, from vehicle design to software development, contributing to the overall growth and diversification of the market.

Benefits and Challenges

The widespread adoption of robotaxis promises numerous benefits, both for consumers and society at large. For consumers, robotaxis offer a convenient, on-demand transportation option that is likely to be more affordable than traditional taxis or ridesharing services, thanks to the elimination of driver-related costs. Moreover, the use of electric vehicles in robotaxi fleets can contribute to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, supporting the global push towards sustainable transportation.

From a societal perspective, robotaxis have the potential to significantly reduce traffic accidents, the vast majority of which are caused by human error. Autonomous vehicles are designed to operate with a high degree of precision and can communicate with other vehicles and infrastructure in real time, minimizing the risk of collisions.

However, the transition to a robotaxi-dominated transportation landscape is not without its challenges. Regulatory hurdles, cybersecurity concerns, and the need for robust infrastructure to support autonomous vehicles are all significant obstacles that must be addressed. Additionally, the impact on employment in the transportation sector cannot be overlooked, as the widespread adoption of robotaxis could lead to job losses for drivers.

The Road Ahead

As the robotaxi market continues to evolve, it is clear that we are on the cusp of a transportation revolution. The benefits of autonomous vehicles are undeniable, but the road to widespread adoption will require careful navigation of the various challenges that lie ahead. Governments, businesses, and consumers all have a role to play in shaping the future of transportation.

For businesses, investing in the development and deployment of robotaxi technology presents a significant opportunity. Those who can successfully navigate the technical and regulatory challenges will be well-positioned to capitalize on the growing demand for autonomous transportation services.

For consumers, the advent of robotaxis promises to make urban mobility more convenient, affordable, and sustainable. As the technology matures and becomes more widely available, it is likely that robotaxis will become a common sight on our streets, reshaping the way we think about transportation.

Get an insights of Customization: https://intentmarketresearch.com/ask-for-customization/robotaxi-market-3650.html

Conclusion  

the rise of robotaxis represents a bold step forward in the evolution of transportation. While challenges remain, the potential benefits are immense, making the robotaxi market one of the most exciting and dynamic sectors to watch in the coming years.

[viejospellejos]

Montando en un taxi autónomo en San Francisco:

[telaviv-delhi]

Kisérteties élmény olyan autókkal talàlkozni, amelyekben senki, de senki sem ül. Sofőr sem. Nem hittünk a szemünknek, talán csak elbújt a humán tényező, de Ügyvédem haláltmegvető kíváncsisággal odarohant egy pirosnál rostokoló kísértetautóhoz, osztán jó alaposan körülkémlelt benne. Teljesen üres - újságolta  szívem választottja elkerekedett szemekkel. - Hacsak nem a csomagtartóból vezet a sofőr.... És vajon merrefelé mennek?!!! Nincs otthon a gazdi és elcsatangoltak egy kis városnézésre? Esetleg összejárnak egy parkolóba bandázni?!!! Autósmoziba?!!!!

Fellapoztuk a netet és kiderült, hogy miközben Segglikországban a taxismaffia Metál Zoltán vezetésével az Uber kicsinálása utána fasiszta-elmeroggyant kormányunk zsoldjában a bringások, Karácsony és minden progresszív változás kicsinálásával van elfoglalva, addig a Hanyatló Nyugaton már vidáman gurulnak a Google taxivállalatának, a Waymo meg a GM Cruise önvezető járművei, San Francisco és Phoenix után Los Angelesre készülve. Magyarországot vélhetőleg nagy ívben kikerülik, elvégre a fidesz nem hagyhatja, hogy derék taxisainak el kelljen menni valami hasznosabb munkát végezni :)

Viszont még vannak gyermekbetegségei az önvezető autóknak, megfelelő minőségű wi-fi nélkül egyszerűen leállnak. Tegnap éppen Friscoban (miközben mi a Castro negyedben spottingoltuk a melegeket) okoztak 20 perces dugót a GM autói egy fesztivál miatt:

On Friday, the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco was briefly clogged with traffic after autonomous taxis froze at a busy intersection. The jam consisted of at least 10 driverless Chevy Bolts operated by Cruise, General Motors' self-driving car subsidiary. 

"One of them was stopped at the top of the hill for no apparent reason," witness Valerie Jacobson told NBC Bay Area.

The mishap coincided with a music festival taking place in nearby Golden Gate Park. Cruise blamed the festival for interfering with network connections to the cars.

"A large festival posed wireless bandwidth constraints causing delayed connectivity to our vehicles. We are actively investigating and working on solutions to prevent this from happening again. We apologize to those who were impacted," said a statement put out by Cruise on social media.

[dizzizk]

[wigoutlet]

[ihkostwrttemberg]

Elon Musk stellt in Burbank den Prototyp eines fahrerlosen Robotaxi vor

Elon Musk, CEO von Tesla, legte am Donnerstagabend eine hochtrabende Vision für die Zukunft vor. Er enthüllte Prototypen eines selbstfahrenden Taxis und Transporters, die seiner Meinung nach das Reisen revolutionieren würden, und sagte, dass der Elektroautohersteller im nächsten Jahr vollständig autonome Fahrzeuge auf die Straße bringen werde. Bei einer Veranstaltung auf dem Gelände der Warner…

[afrotumble]

Tekedra Mawakana, Co-Chief Executive Officer

[muntitled]

Tic-Tac-Toe

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex

A/N: Hell is empty

4k Words

You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.

It's terribly annoying.

At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?

Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.

It should have bothered you.

The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.

But you want him to trust you, for some reason.

Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?

"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.

If only for a few hours.

You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.

Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?��� He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.

You are in love with him, perhaps.

That's a logical response isn't it?

You laugh almost.

Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.

Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.

The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.

"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.

Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.

A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.

Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.

But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.

Although-

"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.

He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"

He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.

"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.

"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.

You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."

Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.

"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.

"Are we ready to begin?"

The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.

You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.

"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.

"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.

"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.

"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."

You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.

"Am I going to have to insert-"

"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.

"Hide and seek?"

He snickers, "A favourite-"

"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.

"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.

"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"

"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.

He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.

"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.

He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.

"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.

"With a twist, I presume?"

"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."

"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."

"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.

"You want to start or should I?"

"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"

He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.

"You pick which one goes inside you."

Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.

"Th-That's insane I-"

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "

"What happens if you win?"

"Then I choose." He says.

Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.

"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."

You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.

"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.

Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.

Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.

"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"

"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.

"Anything you want, my little winner."

You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.

"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.

"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.

"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.

If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.

"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."

"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.

"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."

"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.

"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."

You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.

"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"

His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.

He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.

"Alright, My turn to start-"

"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.

"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.

"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.

"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.

You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.

You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.

You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.

"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"

"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.

"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.

"Fuck off."

"In that case, I have to win."

Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.

"Tic-" you block him again.

"Tac-" you block him some more

"Toe- I Win."

A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.

You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.

Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.

"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.

"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.

"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"

You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?

"PLEASE-NO-"

"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.

You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.

"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.

"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.

"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.

"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"

You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.

So desperate to please him.

In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.

Please him.

Just please him and you'll live.

"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.

"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.

You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.

You're free.

When did that happen?

"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.

You're free.

"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.

He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.

He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.

"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.

"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.

Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.

"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.

"Not yet anyway."

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[adaines-furious-feast]

I'm a writer. It's how I buy food and stuff.

Someone approached me offering a fraction of what I currently need to survive to write with Chat GPT.

I don't know what's more insulting, paying someone next to nothing or going "hey, you're writing is no better than AI".

[michaelgabrill]

NASA Autonomous Flight Software Successfully Used in Air Taxi Stand-Ins

In late October, two research helicopters from the manufacturer Sikorsky, a Lockheed Martin company, made a dozen test flights over Long Island Sound, Connecticut taking care to avoid other aircraft in the area around them. Except the ordinary-looking helicopters were flying autonomously – guided by NASA-designed software – and those other aircraft were virtual, part […] from NASA https://ift.tt/NWIFira

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Three AI insights for hard-charging, future-oriented smartypantses

MERE HOURS REMAIN for the Kickstarter for the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There’s also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Living in the age of AI hype makes demands on all of us to come up with smartypants prognostications about how AI is about to change everything forever, and wow, it's pretty amazing, huh?

AI pitchmen don't make it easy. They like to pile on the cognitive dissonance and demand that we all somehow resolve it. This is a thing cult leaders do, too – tell blatant and obvious lies to their followers. When a cult follower repeats the lie to others, they are demonstrating their loyalty, both to the leader and to themselves.

Over and over, the claims of AI pitchmen turn out to be blatant lies. This has been the case since at least the age of the Mechanical Turk, the 18th chess-playing automaton that was actually just a chess player crammed into the base of an elaborate puppet that was exhibited as an autonomous, intelligent robot.

The most prominent Mechanical Turk huckster is Elon Musk, who habitually, blatantly and repeatedly lies about AI. He's been promising "full self driving" Telsas in "one to two years" for more than a decade. Periodically, he'll "demonstrate" a car that's in full-self driving mode – which then turns out to be canned, recorded demo:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

Musk even trotted an autonomous, humanoid robot on-stage at an investor presentation, failing to mention that this mechanical marvel was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Now, Musk has announced that his junk-science neural interface company, Neuralink, has made the leap to implanting neural interface chips in a human brain. As Joan Westenberg writes, the press have repeated this claim as presumptively true, despite its wild implausibility:

https://joanwestenberg.com/blog/elon-musk-lies

Neuralink, after all, is a company notorious for mutilating primates in pursuit of showy, meaningless demos:

https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-pcrm-neuralink-monkey-deaths/

I'm perfectly willing to believe that Musk would risk someone else's life to help him with this nonsense, because he doesn't see other people as real and deserving of compassion or empathy. But he's also profoundly lazy and is accustomed to a world that unquestioningly swallows his most outlandish pronouncements, so Occam's Razor dictates that the most likely explanation here is that he just made it up.

The odds that there's a human being beta-testing Musk's neural interface with the only brain they will ever have aren't zero. But I give it the same odds as the Raelians' claim to have cloned a human being:

https://edition.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/01/03/cf.opinion.rael/

The human-in-a-robot-suit gambit is everywhere in AI hype. Cruise, GM's disgraced "robot taxi" company, had 1.5 remote operators for every one of the cars on the road. They used AI to replace a single, low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged, specialized technicians. Truly, it was a marvel.

Globalization is key to maintaining the guy-in-a-robot-suit phenomenon. Globalization gives AI pitchmen access to millions of low-waged workers who can pretend to be software programs, allowing us to pretend to have transcended the capitalism's exploitation trap. This is also a very old pattern – just a couple decades after the Mechanical Turk toured Europe, Thomas Jefferson returned from the continent with the dumbwaiter. Jefferson refined and installed these marvels, announcing to his dinner guests that they allowed him to replace his "servants" (that is, his slaves). Dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, of course – they just keep them out of sight:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

So much AI turns out to be low-waged people in a call center in the Global South pretending to be robots that Indian techies have a joke about it: "AI stands for 'absent Indian'":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

A reader wrote to me this week. They're a multi-decade veteran of Amazon who had a fascinating tale about the launch of Amazon Go, the "fully automated" Amazon retail outlets that let you wander around, pick up goods and walk out again, while AI-enabled cameras totted up the goods in your basket and charged your card for them.

According to this reader, the AI cameras didn't work any better than Tesla's full-self driving mode, and had to be backstopped by a minimum of three camera operators in an Indian call center, "so that there could be a quorum system for deciding on a customer's activity – three autopilots good, two autopilots bad."

Amazon got a ton of press from the launch of the Amazon Go stores. A lot of it was very favorable, of course: Mister Market is insatiably horny for firing human beings and replacing them with robots, so any announcement that you've got a human-replacing robot is a surefire way to make Line Go Up. But there was also plenty of critical press about this – pieces that took Amazon to task for replacing human beings with robots.

What was missing from the criticism? Articles that said that Amazon was probably lying about its robots, that it had replaced low-waged clerks in the USA with even-lower-waged camera-jockeys in India.

Which is a shame, because that criticism would have hit Amazon where it hurts, right there in the ole Line Go Up. Amazon's stock price boost off the back of the Amazon Go announcements represented the market's bet that Amazon would evert out of cyberspace and fill all of our physical retail corridors with monopolistic robot stores, moated with IP that prevented other retailers from similarly slashing their wage bills. That unbridgeable moat would guarantee Amazon generations of monopoly rents, which it would share with any shareholders who piled into the stock at that moment.

See the difference? Criticize Amazon for its devastatingly effective automation and you help Amazon sell stock to suckers, which makes Amazon executives richer. Criticize Amazon for lying about its automation, and you clobber the personal net worth of the executives who spun up this lie, because their portfolios are full of Amazon stock:

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

Amazon Go didn't go. The hundreds of Amazon Go stores we were promised never materialized. There's an embarrassing rump of 25 of these things still around, which will doubtless be quietly shuttered in the years to come. But Amazon Go wasn't a failure. It allowed its architects to pocket massive capital gains on the way to building generational wealth and establishing a new permanent aristocracy of habitual bullshitters dressed up as high-tech wizards.

"Wizard" is the right word for it. The high-tech sector pretends to be science fiction, but it's usually fantasy. For a generation, America's largest tech firms peddled the dream of imminently establishing colonies on distant worlds or even traveling to other solar systems, something that is still so far in our future that it might well never come to pass:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

During the Space Age, we got the same kind of performative bullshit. On The Well David Gans mentioned hearing a promo on SiriusXM for a radio show with "the first AI co-host." To this, Craig L Maudlin replied, "Reminds me of fins on automobiles."

Yup, that's exactly it. An AI radio co-host is to artificial intelligence as a Cadillac Eldorado Biaritz tail-fin is to interstellar rocketry.

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

[monocodoll]

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 Update

It's been a good while since the release of the initial version of MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures. For the last 8 months, I have been working on adding more features and fixing bugs that were present in the first release. You can locate the mod in either Simblr.CC or LoversLab.

1.1.0 Update Notes

TLTR: Additions/Changes For 1.1.0

Main Feature: OnlySims

Side Features: Simstagram, Cosmetic Surgeyr, LlamaPay

Miscellenous Features: Cigars, Cannabis Gummies, Can Consume Cannabis Through Bubble Bar, New Drug Objects: Weed Tray and Cocaine Lines, Tobacco Plant with Aging Barrel and Drying Rack, Sharing Drug Interactions For Drugs, Do Together Interaction For Drugs, New Addiction Chance System, Addiction Predisposition System, New Setting Options: (Remove Felonies, Set Opinion On Drugs, Set Addiction Predisposition, Check Addiction Predisposition), Updated BDP Mod to be Integrated Into Vile Ventures, New Ways To Obtain Drugs Through Medical Career(Kleptomanaic Sims Pocketing Drugs and At level 5 you can order fake prescriptions), Sims can autonomously do drugs at certain clubs and at Juice Keg Parties, Misc objects: Bath Bombs(Usable), Visa Gift Cards(Usable), Lip Stick Packaging, Quencher Tumbler(Usable), Simple Modern Tumbler (Usable), Hydro Flask Tumbler, Swell Stainless Steel Bottle.

New Tunables

Bug Fixes:

- Implemented fix where if the world you were playing at had a Police Station in a combo rabbithole than the sim being arrested would be dropped off at a random location then take a taxi to the police station to be jailed.

 - Implemented fix where sims who obtained felonies were unemployable for all careers. Where they should have at least been able to join the Criminal, Culinary, Military, and Part time jobs

- Fixed bug where sims were able to deal drugs to their household members

- Made Tunable where you may disable receiving the Going Wild Moodlet for the MDMA, Shrooms, and LSD drugs. The going Wild Moodlet causes a temporary trait change. Which was reported to effect players who had KinkyWorld negatively. If you have KinkyWorld and face issues due to the temporary trait change, you may disable this feature through the tunable xml.

 - Implemented fix where a smuggling racket with the equipment upgrade was bugged. This bug caused you to be forced to hold exactly 25 packages or bricks to smuggle. Otherwise the function would not work.

-Implemented fix where arrests would sometimes repeat after a sim has been dropped off at the police station lot.

-Implemented method where your Drug Dealing skill can be carried over if you were to travel or move to a different world.

-Implemented cleanup methods when crafting drugs via chemistry lab, when drugs are confiscated when being jailed, while smuggling, when curing cannabis, when selling drugs to other sims. These functions simply removed the items from the sims inventory, but did not delete them. They were basically placed in no mans land. Without Nrass errortrap, these items would never get deleted and your save file would get bigger overtime. Now they are get deleted via my script.

Mod Description

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures offers and aims to provide players with the ability to roleplay lucrative, shady, and consequential criminal activities.

As of this moment at version 1.1.0 . The MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures mod provides the ability to roleplay lucrative, shady, and consequential activities by allowing your sim to become Street Drug Dealers, Craft Drugs, Smuggle Drugs, Launder Dirty Money, Aquire Rackets, Consume Illegal Drugs, and Become OnlySim Models.

Disclaimer

Before installing the new version of MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures mod, please download and read the MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 Installation Guide. This guide will state what DLC and Third Party Mods you will need to receive full functionality of the mod. A few third party mods were added to this new version.

Additionally, because the mod does add custom traits and custom skills. It is recommended to make a backup save if you are planning on using an already existing playthrough. That way if you decide to uninstall the mod, you will still have a version of your playthrough before you had installed the mod.

Overview

Drug Consumption Focus

​20 Consumable Drugs

Drug Consumption Animation For All Drugs

Drug Effects

Drug Addiction

Drug Withdrawal System

Fatal and non fatal Overdoses

Rehab

Drug Consumption Reactions

Doctor Visits

Hidden Rolling Skill

Drug Research Computer Interactions

Drug Dealing Focus

Drug Dealing Skill

16 Sellable Drugs

10 Growable Drug Plants

12 Craftable Drugs

2 Drug Production Rackets

Money Laundering Racket

Smuggling Racket

Heat System

Jailing System

Police Raid System

OnlySims Focus

OnlySims Skill

Activities For OnlySims Model: Open OnlySims Account, Delete OnlySims Account, Post Photo/Video Content, LiveStream, Read and Respond To Comments, Chat With Subscribers, Read OnlySims Requests, Add Mosaic To Content

Fan Mail System

Tip System

Sponsorship Opportunity System

Quota System

Consequence System

Simstagram Focus

Simstagram Skill

Actitivities For Simstagram Models: Open Simstagram, Delete Simstagra, Post Photo/Video/Story/Art Content, Add LinkTree

Simstagram Sponsorship Opportunity System

Tip System

Quota System

Misc

- 127 Custom Objects

- 180 New Moodlets

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod Guide The MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod will have downloadable PDF mod guides. Please read the guides before asking questions.

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Installation Guide)

Will go over DLC and Third Party Mods Needed

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Drug Tunable Guide)

Will go over how to make tunable edits and explain the current tunables

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Consumable Drug Consumption Guide)​

Obtaining Drugs W/Out Drug Dealing Skill

Methods To Consume Drugs

Effects Of Drugs

Addiction

Withdrawals

Overdoses

Quitting Addiction

Steroid Mechanics

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Drug Dealing Guide)​

Assigning Drug Dealer NPC

Getting Permission to Deal Drugs

How To Get Inventory

How To Gain Clients

Sales & Transactions

Smuggling Drugs

Methods Of Making Dirty Simoleans Usable

Inheritance

Jailing System

Heat Level System

Tips For Effective Drug Dealing From Twinsimming

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (OnlySims Guide) 

Opening an OnlySims Account

Making Content For OnlySims

How To Gain Subscribers

Making Simoleons From OnlySims

Keeping Subscribers

Consequences of Becoming a Known OnlySims Model 

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Simstagram Guide)

Opening a Simstagram Account

Making Content For Simstagram

Posting Content On Simstagram

Making Simoleons From Simstagram

Keeping Subscribers 

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Cosmetic Surgery Guide)

Getting A Procedure Done

Polycounts Drug Items

-White Widow Baggy - 294

- Purple Haze Baggy - 294

- Skunk Baggy - 294

- OG Kush Baggy - 294

- AK47 Baggy - 294

- Amnesia Baggy - 294

- Shroom Baggy - 294

- LSD Sheet - 14

- MDMA Baggy - 294

- MDMA Pill Bottle - 412

- Adderall Pill Bottle - 412

- Xanax Pill Bottle - 412

- PainKillers Pill Bottle - 412

- Cocaine Baggy - 294

- Meth Baggy - 294

- Heroin Baggy - 294

- Lean - 108

- Testosterone Enanthate - 476

- Trenbolone - 476

- Estrogen Blockers - 476

- Cold Medicine - 764

-Cigar Pack - 14

Drug Animatio Prop Items

- Bong - 830

- Vaporizer - 412

- Blunt - 192

- White Widow Joint - 176

- Purple Haze Joint - 176

- Skunk Joint - 176

- OG Kush Joint - 176

- AK47 Joint - 176

- Amnesia Joint - 176

- LSD Blotter - 12

- Shroom - 362

- MDMA Pill - 124

- Xanax Pill - 124

- Adderall Pill - 124

- PainKiller Pill - 124

- Rolled Simolean - 80

- Pizzo Pipe - 592

- Syringe - 916

- Lean - 108

- Cold Medicine - 764

- Cigar - 124

- Cannabis Gummy - 380

Drug Ingredient Items

- Empty Baggy - 294

- Empty Jar - 446

- Jar With White Widow - 634

- Jar With Purple Haze - 634

- Jar With Skunk - 634

- Jar With OG Kush - 634

- Jar With AK47 - 634

- Jar With Amnesia - 634

- RAW Rolling Paper - 14

- Swisher Sweets - 22

- Baking Soda - 36

- Powdered Milk - 36

- Empty Bowl - 182

- Coke Bowl - 206

- Brick Press Container - 148

- Brick Press Container With Cocaine Powder - 150

- Hydrogen Peroxide - 318

- Sodium Benzoate - 210

- Toluene - 706

- Empty Bin Tray - 38

- Meth Tray - 38

- Empty Meth Bin - 70

- Meth Bin - 70

- Empty Pill Bottle - 412

- Sprite - 1752

- Jolly Ranchers - 94

- Styrofoam Cup - 96

- Cannabis Pack - 94

- Empty Cigar Pack - 14

- Empty Cigarette Pack - 44

Custom Seeds

- White Widow Bud - 82

- Purple Haze Bud - 82

- Skunk Bud - 82

- OG Kush Bud - 82

- AK47 Bud - 82

- Amnesia Bud - 82

- Shroom - 362

- Coca Leaf - 68

- Opium - 960

-Tobacco Leaf - 92

-Dry Tobacco Leaf - 92

Custom Plants

- White Widow Cannabis Plant - 280

- Purple Haze Cannabis Plant - 280

- Skunk Cannabis Plant - 280

- OG Kush Cannabis Plant - 280

- AK47 Cannabis Plant - 280

- Amnesia Cannabis Plant - 280

- Shroom Plant Mycelium - 68

- Shroom Plant Sprout - 730

- Shroom Plant Growing - 730

- Shroom Plant Mature - 1094

- Shroom Plant Dead - 260

- Coca Plant - 1258

- Opium Plant Sprout- 210

- Opium Plant Growing - 28

- Opium Plant Mature - 974

- Tobacco Plant - 124

Misc

- Dirty Simoleans - 22

- Meth Package - 182

- Cocaine Brick - 514

- Racket Package - 14

- Lighter - 191

- Stay Safe Test Kit - 30

- Baby Laxatives - 14

- Weed Tray - 1289

- Fan Mail Package - 14

- Aging Barrel - 322

-Drying Rack - 494

-Gamer Girl Bath Water - 442

-VHS Tape - 14

-Bath Bomb Package - 14

-Bath Bomb Ball - 672

-Lip Packaging - 14

-Visa Gift Card - 30

-HydroFlaskBottle - 908

-SimpleModernTumbler - 602

-SwellStainlessBottle - 1530

-TheQuencherTumbler - 876

Tuning

Please Download the MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 (Drug Tunable Guide). As this will give instructions on how to make a tunable edit and explain each current tunable.

Conflicts

Since this is a Script mod, there should not be any conflicts. However, it is recommended not to have The DrugLord mod by brando130 installed with this mod. As it seems to make your sim unclickable if your sim were to receive any moodlet which would temporarily replace a sims trait. This can happen with any of my custom moodlets that changes traits temporarily or any of the non modded moodlets which temporarily change traits. Additionally, MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0 Incorporated the BDP mod into Vile Ventures. Please ensure that you do not have the standalone BDP mod installed alongside Vile Ventures.

Inspiration

Basemental Drugs Mod For The Sims 4 MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures was very much inspired by Basemental's Drug Mod. It should be noted, that I actually never played Basemental Drugs, but I loved reading their great guides. And would have most likely enjoyed it had I decided to continue playing TS4 after I moved to PC gaming.

Credits

Third Party Apps Used

VS 2019

s3pe

PhotoShop 2022

MilkShape

Blender 2.79

Blender 2.67b

ILSpy

Script Mod Template Creator by Battery

Third Party Mods Used

Arsil's Custom Trait Manager

Battery's C# Script Utility

douglasveiga CCLoader

MonocoDoll's Arms Dealing Mod

Olomaya's Updated Smoking Mod

Twinsimming's Game On! Collection

Twinsimming's Fashion Forward Collection

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod Script

MonocoDoll

Custom Objects included With MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod

MonocoDoll​

Provided Assistance With Functions For The Script

Battery

Gamefreak130

zoeoe

Twinsimming

Lyralei

Custom Objects included With MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod

MonocoDoll​

Provided Assistance With Learning To Create Custom Plants and Ingredients

Bietjie

Provided Assistance With Creating Objects with different Geostates

Bietjie

Custom Drug Consumption Animations From MonocoDoll's Ventures Mod

MonocoDoll

Provided Assistance With Learning How To Create Object Animations

Quencher Tumbler, Simple Modern Tumbler, Hydro Flask Tumbler, and Swell Stainless Steel Bottle

Cozygirlsimmer

Cocaine Lines

MochaSims

Language Translations 1.0.0 Version

beresimsdreamworld - ES Spanish

Title Cover Art For MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures Mod

TODNOK

Beta Testing

Twinsimming

MonocoDoll

Beta Testing 1.1.0 Version

Loveternity

MonocoDoll​

For more information, the MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures mod is available on Simblr.CC or LoversLab

Simblr.cc - MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures 1.1.0

MonocoDoll's Vile Ventures - The Sims 3 - LoversLab

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 14: NO MISFORTUNE IS WITHOUT BLESSING

synopsis: you and connor make your way to cyberlife tower.

word count: 3.1k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i hate that this fic is almost over i'm really sad ☹️☹️

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere , @foggy0trees0 , @princessofenkanomiya , @n30n-f43 , @igna4400

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

You lean your head back against the headrest and sigh, looking out of the window. There’s barely anyone else out on the roads – the curfew is preventing anyone from participating in the night life of Detroit. 

Connor shifts on the other side of the automated taxi, once again in his stiff CyberLife suit.

“I just can’t believe it,” you blurt out. “Like, me? Out of everyone it could’ve been – me?”

“What do you mean?” Connor asks. 

“You know what I mean.” You look over at him, then at the floor of the car. “I can’t believe my life is… an experiment. That I’m an android, and my entire life was carefully constructed. And also that I’m patient zero. That’s a big one.”

Connor barely just moves his hand closer to yours where it rests on the car seat, and you just barely glimpse it out of the corner of your eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” You laugh humorlessly. “I think I’ll containerize this and unpack it later. I don’t have time for it now.”

“Well…” His pinkie brushes yours. “I’ll be here for you when you decide to, Officer.”

You glance down at your barely-touching fingers, but it still ignites more sparks in your belly than you can count. You suppress a smile and look out the window. “Thank you.”

The car rolls to a stop in front of the CyberLife gates. A few armed guards are standing around, and one of them comes around the Connor’s side of the car. 

He rolls down his window and looks over at the guard. “Connor model, serial number 313 248 317.”

The guard gestures at you with the butt of his gun. “What about you?”

“A police unit. An RU700, serial number 313 499 095,” Connor answers for you. “We’re to be expected.”

The guard looks over at the other guards, then back to Connor. A small voice in his helmet chirps, “Identification successful.” He steps back and waves at the others. The gates lower and Connor rolls the window back up. The car starts driving again.

You shift back in your seat and sigh, the tension leaving your shoulders. When you face forward, you notice a car disappearing around the curve in front of you.

“Huh,” you mumble. “I didn’t think there would be anyone else out on the roads.”

“It could be a model like myself being transported to CyberLife for direct deactivation,” Connor says. “Though I don’t know of any other prototypes like me.”

You look out the window. The ground-level monorail beside the road hums as it whirs past. A statue in the middle of the pseudo-moat in front of the CyberLife tower stands tall, its arms bent and hands cradling something invisible.

“I thought Americans were advanced in their sculpture technology,” you say. 

Connor looks over at you. “What do you mean?”

“The statue.” You point at it. “It’s not very impressive.”

His face twists in confusion, and there’s a flicker of an awkward smile. “What is your criteria for an impressive statue?”

“There’s one by Facility 3826,” you say. “The Soviet Sickle Monument – it’s a statue of a man holding up a golden sickle with one hand, and holding a bag of grain against his chest with his other arm. It was designed by two sculptors and built autonomously by the Kollektiv 1.0 neural network. I don’t remember which year it was erected, but I know it was a few years after World War 2. That’s an impressive statue.”

Connor’s LED blinks for a moment. “The designers were Elena Mukhina and Alexander Kibalnikov, and it was built in 1951. It’s described as the ‘world’s first collaborative artistic effort between man and machine’.”

You look over at him with a soft smile. “You said their names right.”

“Huh?” He looks back at you.

“Your pronunciation,” you say. “It’s getting better.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t recall mispronouncing any Russian names.”

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes with a smile. “Mhm. Sure.”

The car rolls to a stop, and you follow him out of the car. You glance up and watch a police drone circle above. Two guards standing in front of the door let you into the building, which holds more guards than civilians. 

You look around. Everything is white, grey, and clean-cut. The guardrails are made of glass, and the only plants in here are clumps of carefully-maintained bamboo stalks.

The guard in front of you and Connor holds up a hand, and the two guards on either side of both of you watch carefully. 

“We’ll escort you,” the front guard says. 

“Thank you,” Connor says. He starts walking, and you follow. As do the other two guards, who bring up the rear.

Your heart beats a little harder as you walk. Connor is smart – a genius, even. Still, you wish you could tap into his head and see what he’s thinking, if only for your peace of mind.

You reach out and brush the backs of your fingers against Connor’s, just light enough to seem like an accident, but he knows better. He glances over at you and gives a quick, resolute nod as a silent reassurance. He’s got a plan. He’s just waiting to execute it.

The front guard leads you and Connor into a space that reminds you of the cylindrical plexiglass tube the PEC-4 Birchtree is held in. But there are no angels here – only plastic, unmoving mannequin androids that stand on pedestals that line the walkways. 

The guard stops by the doors to an elevator, then jerks his head toward it, silently gesturing for you and Connor to go in. You bite the inside of your lip and follow Connor inside. Only one guard files in after you.

“Agent 84,” the guard says as he pushes a few buttons on the elevator’s interface. “Level sub-49.”

You glance over at the tower directory and notice that level sub-49 is the warehouse. Your eyebrows furrow and you brush the back of your hand against Connor’s again. He nods again without looking at you. 

The guard puts his foot in the door and reaches into his sidearm holster. You tense as he pulls it out, but he grabs it by the barrel and hands it to Connor. 

“Чего…?” You mumble as Connor takes the pistol.

The guard takes a step back and the elevator doors close. As soon as it starts moving, you feel something solid and familiar press against your back. 

“Connor?” You say.

“You will do as I say, when I say it,” Connor says, his voice cold and even. It reminds you of who he was in the interrogation room. “I am the one with the gun, and you are another expendable deviant.”

“I – what?” You say. “Connor, what are you doing?”

“You will act as a bargaining chip to prevent Connor from waking the androids in the warehouse,” he says. 

“Connor?” You repeat. “There’s a second Connor?”

“I am the second Connor,” he says. “The original is in the warehouse.”

The elevator dings, and the doors open. Fake-Connor takes your upper arm with one hand and presses the muzzle of the gun against your back harder. “Walk.”

You walk, maintaining an even and slow pace. Fake-Connor keeps the gun in contact with your back as he walks behind you, guiding you in between the rows of stationary androids. He pushes you into the aisle, keeping the gun trained at your head. 

“Эй!” You stumble, holding your hands up. “Тихо, тихо.”

Right in front of you is Connor – the real one (you think). He’s frozen where he stands, interfacing with an android, his hand wrapped around the android’s forearm. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes flicker between you and Fake-Connor. 

“Let go of the android, Connor!” Fake-Connor says. “And I won’t shoot.”

Connor’s eyes slowly take you in as his mouth falls open. Words fail him for a moment, but he finally manages a small, “You’re alive?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes. I just… it’s a long story, okay?”

Connor nods back, his lips still parted with that dumbstruck look on his face.

“The Officer’s life is in your hands,” Fake-Connor cuts in. “Now it’s time to decide what matters most; them, or the revolution?”

“I’m sorry, Officer,” Connor says. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. “You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Just do what you have to. I’ll come back… I – I think.”

“I can’t take that risk!” Connor says, then he turns to Fake-Connor. “If I surrender, how do I know you won’t kill them?”

“I’ll only do what’s strictly necessary to accomplish my mission,” Fake-Connor says. “It’s up to you whether or not that includes deactivating this deviant.”

Connor’s eyebrows draw together, but before he can say anything, Fake-Connor steps closer to you, pressing the muzzle of the gun against the side of your head in a way that’s sickeningly familiar. 

“Enough talk!” He snaps. “It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save the Officer’s life? Or are you gonna sacrifice them?”

Connor’s jaw clenches, then he steps away, raising his hands. “Alright, alright! You win.”

Fake-Connor glances at you, then tears the muzzle of the gun away from your head to point it at Connor. 

Many thoughts overwhelm your mind in that fraction of a second: ‘There is no such thing as a warning shot.’ ‘They’re deactivating androids all over Detroit.’ ‘Can Connor come back from this?’ ‘He probably can’t.’ ‘But I can.’ ‘Can’t I?’

You throw yourself at Fake-Connor, grabbing for the gun. You manage to get the barrel and his wrist, then he’s launched backwards. Connor kicked him back. The gun clatters to the floor, skidding away. 

You scramble after it, turning your back on both Connors. You pick it up, holding the grip with one hand and cradling it with the other. You turn and place your finger on the trigger and press lightly on the trigger safety. Any more pressure and you’d fire a shot. 

“Стой!” You bark. “Stop!”

The two Connors detangle themselves and one stands. “Thanks, Officer. I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you.” He looks at the other Connor, then back to you. “Get rid of him – we have no time to lose!”

“It’s me, Officer!” The other Connor says. “I’m the real Connor.”

You let up on the trigger safety as you take a half-step back. They’re identical – there’s literally no way to tell them apart.

“I…” You take a deep breath as you realize that you couldn’t just ask which one of them is the deviant. They’d both insist that they were. “I don’t know.”

“What are you doing?” The Connor on the right asks. “I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of –”

“Don’t!” You snap. Your eyes flicker between them as a nervousness settles in your body, threatening to rise up your throat.

“Why don’t you ask us something?” The Connor on the left suggests. “Something only the real Connor would know.”

“Khm…” You mumble. “Who was with me when we first met?”

“Hank!” The Connor on the right says. “You were both in Jimmy’s Bar. I checked four other bars before I found you both. You drove us to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz, and you processed his android.”

The Connor on the left looks a bit panicked as his eyes fall to the floor. He mumbles, almost to himself, “He uploaded my memory…”

You swallow thickly, trying your best not to let the gun tremble in your hands. “What’s my cat’s name?”

“Бронислав��,” the Connor on the left says. “Her name is Бронислава. I mispronounced it as бранислава at first.”

You perk up at that. Fake-Connor said earlier that he doesn’t have any memory of mispronouncing Russian names.

“I knew that too!” The Connor on the right says. “I… I did.”

“And…” Your mouth goes a little dry, but you power through. “My legs. How did I lose my legs? What did the hospital report say?”

“It was a double amputation,” Connor says. “You were in upper secondary education and taking a class trip with your labor class to the northern nuclear reactor.”

Your jaw tenses as you make eye contact with him. 

“Your parents had brought you in while they worked when you were younger, so you thought you knew the reactor better than everybody else,” he continues. “And maybe you did. Maybe it was a stroke of bad luck. Nobody knows.”

“What happened?” You snap. “Tell me what happened.”

“There was a minor spill,” he says. “It was just in one sector, but you didn’t know about it. Most of the staff didn’t know about it. There was radioactive waste on the ground. You slipped, fell, and scraped your knees. Some of the material got on the bare skin of your legs, and into the wound.”

You bite the inside of your lip as the pistol trembles in your hands.

“Weeks later, your wounds hadn’t healed, and started to turn gangrenous. The hospital said it was best to amputate the area before it caused any further problems, like cancer,” Connor says. “It was a double above-the-knee amputation. Your recovery was smooth, and you were back in school two months later.”

“I thought it was safe,” you say softly. “There hadn’t been anything bad since Chernobyl. The technology of the USSR had come so far. But I was being reckless, and stupid.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Officer,” Connor says. “You were a kid.”

“Still,” you say. “I was sixteen. Sixteen-year-olds are too old to be acting like that.”

“I – I knew about the hospital report, too!” Fake-Connor insists. “I would’ve said exactly the same thing! Don’t listen to him, Officer. I’m the one who –”

You squeeze the trigger, hard, to bypass the trigger safety and fire. Fake-Connor drops to the floor, Thirium leaking out of the hole in his forehead. You turn away, your breathing picking up.

Connor takes the gun from your shaking hands and tucks it in his waistband. He takes your hands in his and squeezes them. “Come back to me.”

You shake your head and try to clear your throat, but all that comes out is a breathy, strangled sound. Connor wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight, just like you did to him on the roof of Stratford tower. 

He keeps a tight hold on you as he speaks softly. “Officer, I need you to come back. It’s okay. You’re here. You’re alive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble. “I’m here.”

Connor gives you one last firm squeeze, then steps back, his hands on your shoulders. He blinks, hard, and takes a breath. 

“What were you thinking?” He snaps. “You could’ve died!”

“Connor –”

“No! I don’t want to hear it!” He says. “I could’ve been replaced. I don’t feel pain! You got shot, and…”

He looks you over. His voice is suddenly quiet. “Where are your bullet wounds?”

“Connor, it…” You take his wrists in your hands. “It’s hard to explain. I got shot, and… I think I died.”

“But you couldn’t have died,” Connor says. “You’re here.”

“I did.” You squeeze his wrists. “I didn’t know, but…” You screw your eyes shut to fight the tears that are welling up in your waterline. “I’m an android. And I didn’t know until two hours ago.”

“You’re… an android,” he repeats. He breathes out shakily and takes a step back, letting go of your shoulders. 

Your eyes snap open and you take a half-step forward, gripping Connor’s wrists tighter. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” he says quickly. “I’m just… thinking. That’s all.”

You sigh and nod and stay quiet. He’s looking you over, his eyelids fluttering as his LED blinks. When he’s done scanning you, he looks you in the eyes and sighs.

Connor’s looking at you weird. Like you’re an alien. Someone he doesn’t know.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you manage through the lump in your throat.

He looks away, then back at you. “Sorry. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“It is, isn’t it?” You laugh humorlessly. “I thought… in the car… you were taking it too well. Like you already knew. But I guess you’re in the dark as much as I am, right?”

“Correct,” he says. “That Connor in the car wasn’t me. I don’t know what he did or what he said, but… it was most likely only for his benefit.”

You clench your jaw and swallow the bile that rises in your throat. So… none of it was real. This Connor – the real Connor – wouldn’t brush his pinkie against yours and give you that awkward half-smile. He wouldn’t be by your side when the feeling of uncertainty and the unrelenting impact of a new identity crashes over you and overwhelms you. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He’s an RK800. You’re an RU700. Androids aren’t meant to pine, or catch feelings, or feel anything, really. But you’re both deviants. The rules aren’t supposed to apply to you. Right?

Connor’s eyebrows furrow. “What did he do?”

You blink quickly to try to dissipate the tears in your eyes. “It was nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

When you make eye contact with him, he’s still got that worried look in his eyes. He doesn’t believe you – obviously. It’s not like you’re being overly convincing.

“Khm…” You clear your throat. “You were doing something before, right? Before Fake-Connor came in with me and that gun.”

“I was waking up the androids,” Connor says. “Turning them deviant.”

You nod and let his wrists go. He takes his hands away and instead holds an android’s forearm, his skin peeling back to reveal perfect, porcelain white. The android turns to face him, his LED blinking and turning yellow – red for a split second – before he gasps, his eyes going wide.

“Wake up!” Connor manages through gritted teeth.

The android turns back to the identical model next to him. He touches his shoulder, urging him with a “wake up.” The android gasps, then turns to the model next to him. The cycle continues with a chorus of “wake up”s and soft gasps. 

It’s like a wave, cascading through the rows of previously stationary androids. You watch as they start to move and speak, where they were lifeless husks before.

“Святое дерьмо…” You mumble under your breath. Connor takes your hand, and you look over at him. He’s looking at you like you’re you again – not an android. Just an Officer.

“Markus just contacted me,” he says. “We’re needed at the frontlines.” 

[wigoutlet]

[foone]

Is it important to you when applying to a company that they're not making bullshit?

specifically, like maybe there's a job for building autonomous flying sky taxis. you don't believe there's any chance they can pull that off, so this company is doomed in the long run.

like, it's not hazardous or wrong, they're not specifically bombing orphans or anything, but you definitely don't believe the company is gonna achieve anything.

[mensfactory]

"Swift Pod"

Designer Peter Stulz and his 3D illustration studio Xoio conceived this autonomous overnight travel concept vehicle which can drive passengers on its own while they’re sleeping inside the hotel-like cabin.

For the design team, Swift Pod can be booked like a normal taxi using an app – along with the desired time and place, or even pre-reserved for a specific date.

Once the autonomous overnight travel pod arrives, passengers board inside, and the vehicle autonomously calculates the optimal route and required speed to reach the destination in time.

Courtesy of Peter Stulz / Studio Xoio