#Customer Onboarding Steps

[ranjith11]

How a standardized Client Onboarding Process works | Standardized Client Onboarding Process

Do you want to know how a systemised onboarding process of clients can be beneficial to your business? In this comprehensive video, we delve into the world of accounting client onboarding. Discover how to seamlessly integrate the Standardized Client Onboarding Process into your accounting practice. From efficient practices to successful communication plans, we cover it all. Join us to enhance your client integration process and elevate your accounting onboarding game.

[tangibletechnomancy]

The reason I took interest in AI as an art medium is that I've always been interested in experimenting with novel and unconventional art media - I started incorporating power tools into a lot of my physical processes younger than most people were even allowed to breathe near them, and I took to digital art like a duck to water when it was the big, relatively new, controversial thing too, so really this just seems like the logical next step. More than that, it's exciting - it's not every day that we just invent an entirely new never-before-seen art medium! I have always been one to go fucking wild for that shit.

Which is, ironically, a huge part of why I almost reflexively recoil at how it's used in the corporate world: because the world of business, particularly the entertainment industry, has what often seems like less than zero interest in appreciating it as a novel medium.

And I often wonder how much less that would be the case - and, by extension, how much less vitriolic the discussion around it would be, and how many fewer well-meaning people would be falling for reactionary mythologies about where exactly the problems lie - if it hadn't reached the point of...at least an illusion of commercial viability, at exactly the moment it did.

See, the groundwork was laid in 2020, back during covid lockdowns, when we saw a massive spike in people relying on TV, games, books, movies, etc. to compensate for the lack of outdoor, physical, social entertainment. This was, seemingly, wonderful for the whole industry - but under late-stage capitalism, it was as much of a curse as it was a gift. When industries are run by people whose sole brain process is "line-go-up", tiny factors like "we're not going to be in lockdown forever" don't matter. CEOs got dollar signs in their eyes. Shareholders demanded not only perpetual growth, but perpetual growth at this rate or better. Even though everyone with an ounce of common sense was screaming "this is an aberration, this is not sustainable" - it didn't matter. The business bros refused to believe it. This was their new normal, they were determined to prove -

And they, predictably, failed to prove it.

So now the business bros are in a pickle. They're beholden to the shareholders to do everything within their power to maintain the infinite growth they promised, in a world with finite resources. In fact, by precedent, they're beholden to this by law. Fiduciary duty has been interpreted in court to mean that, given the choice between offering a better product and ensuring maximum returns for shareholders, the latter MUST be a higher priority; reinvesting too much in the business instead of trying to make the share value increase as much as possible, as fast as possible, can result in a lawsuit - that a board member or CEO can lose, and have lost before - because it's not acting in the best interest of shareholders. If that unsustainable explosive growth was promised forever, all the more so.

And now, 2-3-4 years on, that impossibility hangs like a sword of Damocles over the heads of these media company CEOs. The market is fully saturated; the number of new potential customers left to onboard is negligible. Some companies began trying to "solve" this "problem" by violating consumer privacy and charging per household member, which (also predictably) backfired because those of us who live in reality and not statsland were not exactly thrilled about the concept of being told we couldn't watch TV with our own families. Shareholders are getting antsy, because their (however predictably impossible) infinite lockdown-level profits...aren't coming, and someone's gotta make up for that, right? So they had already started enshittifying, making excuses for layoffs, for cutting employee pay, for duty creep, for increasing crunch, for lean-staffing, for tightening turnarounds-

And that was when we got the first iterations of AI image generation that were actually somewhat useful for things like rapid first drafts, moodboards, and conceptualizing.

Lo! A savior! It might as well have been the digital messiah to the business bros, and their eyes turned back into dollar signs. More than that, they were being promised that this...both was, and wasn't art at the same time. It was good enough for their final product, or if not it would be within a year or two, but it required no skill whatsoever to make! Soon, you could fire ALL your creatives and just have Susan from accounting write your scripts and make your concept art with all the effort that it takes to get lunch from a Star Trek replicator!

This is every bit as much bullshit as the promise of infinite lockdown-level growth, of course, but with shareholders clamoring for the money they were recklessly promised, executives are looking for anything, even the slightest glimmer of a new possibility, that just might work as a life raft from this sinking ship.

So where are we now? Well, we're exiting the "fucking around" phase and entering "finding out". According to anecdotes I've read, companies are, allegedly, already hiring prompt engineers (or "prompters" - can't give them a job title that implies there's skill or thought involved, now can we, that just might imply they deserve enough money to survive!)...and most of them not only lack the skill to manually post-process their works, but don't even know how (or perhaps aren't given access) to fully use the software they specialize in, being blissfully unaware of (or perhaps not able/allowed to use) features such as inpainting or img2img. It has been observed many times that LLMs are being used to flood once-reputable information outlets with hallucinated garbage. I can verify - as can nearly everyone who was online in the aftermath of the Glasgow Willy Wonka Dashcon Experience - that the results are often outright comically bad.

To anyone who was paying attention to anything other than please-line-go-up-faster-please-line-go-please (or buying so heavily into reactionary mythologies about why AI can be dangerous in industry that they bought the tech companies' false promises too and just thought it was a bad thing), this was entirely predictable. Unfortunately for everyone in the blast radius, common sense has never been an executive's strong suit when so much money is on the line.

Much like CGI before it, what we have here is a whole new medium that is seldom being treated as a new medium with its own unique strengths, but more often being used as a replacement for more expensive labor, no matter how bad the result may be - nor, for that matter, how unjust it may be that the labor is so much cheaper.

And it's all because of timing. It's all because it came about in the perfect moment to look like a life raft in a moment of late-stage capitalist panic. Any port in a storm, after all - even if that port is a non-Euclidean labyrinth of soggy, rotten botshit garbage.

Any port in a storm, right? ...right?

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

[villainintern]

... is an upcoming Choicescript interactive fiction game! You can follow development updates on the dev blog here, view the forum page here, and play the demo here.

Villain Intern is currently on Chapter One: Onboarding as of 9/8/24, sitting at just over 30,000 words.

[FAQ Here and character introductions here, for the newer villains!]

Play as an aspiring supervillain interning at UnderHand, a legacy criminal corporation. Start from the bottom and navigate a world where everyone has it out for you, leveraging your strange superhuman abilities and your knack for manipulation. Make a name for yourself as an executive villain (with your own swanky corner office!), or turn against your higher-ups and usurp the company,…or throw away your promising career for the greater good, I guess...

Powers and Customization:

Choose from two different ability trees. Play as either a homemade cyborg with (painful looking) mechanical augmentations of your own design, or a genetically mutated freak with mysterious, bizarre abilities derived from animal genes. Choose 3 of the 9 unique abilities available for each power type, which update (or mutate) to scale as you get stronger. Climb walls, perfectly mimic any voice, rotate your head 360 degrees, talk to the AI assistant in your brain, etc etc! As a rule, you start out villainous, but whether you’re charming or sinister, sniveling or demanding, and backstabbing or frontstabbing is up to you.

______________________________________________________________

Key Characters and Relationships

Relationship progression tracks two major stats- your connection with a character, and your rivalry, which are not mutually exclusive. So you can romance your greatest nemesis, backstab your closest friend, that kind of thing. Or both at once, with the same person, even..

Fellow Interns:

👾 Peter Hyde is your cubicle neighbor, a geeky slackoff who’s fond of novelty ties. Unlike you, Peter doesn’t really want to be here, but he seems for some reason unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material for the MC- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

🤖 T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine. Once a military member conscripted to UnderHand’s private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame with a dark glass plate for a face. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

🔬 Dr. Dr. Elaine Foster is an up-and-coming mad scientist, assistant to the esteemed Dr. Shrink. Don’t bring up the fact that she has two doctorates and is still an intern. She’s a genius prodigy, but otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors. Passionate and inscrutable, she’s obsessed with making it to the top her own way, and will remain one step ahead of you if you aren’t careful.

🧪 Reid/Reney Sullivan (gender selectable, nb included) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. They’re employed by OverSight, the subsidized hero-corporation that works in tandem with the government. An interning hero with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

There’s also 👁️ Blink, a rogue superhuman- some say vigilante, others say independent villain. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, they tend to use their powers for ridiculous, showy things like popping up behind newscasters on TV. An invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight, Blink is full of contradictions. And secrets, big ones, that pertain to you.

… plus a cast of older, more established villains and heroes- including The Man, UnderHand’s enigmatic CEO. A faceless, hollow man in an empty suit. Actually, nobody’s ever seen anything but the suit, so he might just be the suit.

______________________________________________________________

FURTHER READING: 🌃THE PINTEREST BOARD 🎧THE PLAYLIST

TAG ORGANIZATION: VI Updates - The big stuff, new demo content VI Info - The info posts, development news VI Asks - Anything coming through the inbox VI Characters - Character related info/bonus content VI Sketches - Doodles and concept art

[labs]

Hello again, Labs here with a recap of our test of Collections! We introduced this prototype back in September and then handed the feature to a handful of volunteers sourced from the notes on that post. Thank you again to all volunteers! 

We got so much useful feedback, and wanted to share some of that here, and reveal some next steps we’re taking. There are a couple of big projects cooking in Labs, and Collections has taken a backseat lately, but it is important to us to not leave y’all hanging. We very much want to build things with you here.

Our goal with the volunteer-based super-early phase of Collections was to see if those volunteers actually use the feature, watch what they come up with, and check whether anybody they invite to Tumblr signs up and becomes a regular user of the site. Turns out, nobody did sign up — it’s not as useful of an onboarding strategy as we thought it could be.

However, one piece of feedback we got is that Collections make great custom feeds, which people on Tumblr have been asking for a lot over the years. We hear you loud and clear: you want to supplement the standard Following / For You experience with more intentional control over feed content. That’s really important to us.

With that in mind, for those in the prototype, we’ve moved the Collections list to the left sidebar / mobile navigation as an expandable area like Account, for quick access. We like this better than putting them in the dashboard tab bar, but it’s still something we’re mulling over:

We also heard the need for more filtering options beyond just blogs and tags. What about only including a blog’s posts that use a certain tag, or excluding posts using a certain tag? Or list tags with a boolean AND operator (“posts tagged [tag] and [other tag]”), not just the OR operator we’re using now for sourcing tagged posts. Lots of ideas on how to further customize what shows up in the feed, and better define what the feed is “for”.

There were other fun, tangential bits of feedback, too, like the desire to make these Collections a collaborative feature, so that more than one person can help build a Collection. There were also several usability issues that came to the forefront, which we’ve addressed. And there were some well-articulated thoughts and questions about etiquette, such as how to seek a blog’s “permission” to be included in a Collection – that’s something we care a lot about, to help prevent this kind of feature from being a source of abuse.

Another piece of feedback we heard repeatedly is the desire for Collections of posts. This is not really what we intended with what we built, but it’s not too far afield either. We totally agree that having better, easier ways of collecting and curating individual posts would be useful, so we’re going to investigate that as a separate project.

With all of this in mind, we’ve split the work on Collections into two separate tracks:

Shaping this feature as a “customizable feeds” solution, away from an “invite others” tool.

Building a new thing for saving and curating static posts.

Stay tuned here on the Labs blog for updates on when/if we’ll be moving these Collections tracks of work to more people on Tumblr. (If you are one of the volunteers who helped us with Collections, you’ll still have access to it for the time being!)

Thanks for reading! And please reach out to us via Support, the replies here, or your reblogs, if you have any more feedback, as always.

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deed. [George Weasley x Reader]

Title: No Good Deed. Part 1.

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

"How dare they! It's all I have left of him! I've already lost him once and now I have to lose him all over again?!"

You'd never seen George so angry as he stepped into the office, kicking a cardboard restore box under the table that stored this quarter's paperwork in sheer frustration. He tugged off his tie and ran his fingers through his flame red hair, trying to calm himself, his face downcast despite his anger. You silently stood in the doorway of the office, just observing him, not quite knowing what to say or how to comfort him after what had happened earlier that day in the meeting you'd both attended.

"Mr Weasley, there is one final notion on the mandate which must be discussed," the balding, sour-faced man says from the other side of the table, briefly looking up from his typed paperwork as he strains his neck once again, a habit you'd noticed him doing frequently during your hour long meeting which was thankfully coming to a close.

You'd accompanied George to a meeting with his investors in London, notetaking for him and assisting him with the figures that the investors required to see periodically throughout the year as per their contract. You'd always had an affinity for bookkeeping and had found your skills utilised upon employment at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes just after you left Hogwarts, immediately taken onboard by your childhood best friends Fred and George Weasley.

After Fred's death and the end of the war, funds had been low due to the long store closure despite their best efforts at an owl postage service and once George was ready to reopen the shop, he had needed to take on investors in order to get the money to replenish products and reopen the store, giving them shares in the company and the overall profits. Fortunately, the business had immediately boomed once again when the store reopened, only increasing in popularity and therefore profit when Hogwarts reopened and Diagon Alley bloomed with old and new shops opening seemingly every day. The investors were largely silent, providing money without any input to the business, proud to be associated with the more popular store in Diagon Alley, at least until today.

"It has come to our attention that you are providing services under a false pretence which we must discuss," another man says, much harder in his expression.

Your eyes flick to George who looks rightly offended and confused at the vague notion, seeing him shift in his seat somewhat uncomfortably.

"As there are no longer two of you, the name 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' is redundant, incorrect and therefore unmarketable as it stands. We propose that changes must be made to change the name to 'Weasley's', moving the apostrophe so that it denotes the true ownership. Mr Weasley, you have 30 days to make the necessary change or else our shares will be pulled and we will no longer be investing in your business."

The meeting had come to an abrupt end as the investors exited, leaving you with a seething George who had surprisingly held it together until you both apparated to the outside of the shop. You'd struggled to keep up with George as he bounded up the stairs towards the office, completely ignoring Ron and a few regular customers who had greeted him. You shot them apologetic smiles, wordlessly trying to excuse his uncharacteristic behaviour as you followed him to the office.

He threw down his jacket onto your chair as you entered behind him and immediately began tugging at his tie in frustration.

"I can't change the name! It was always me and Fred, I've already lost him once I can't lose him again, not like this," his tone was no longer filled with anger or rage but rather deep sadness and heartbreak at the thought. You closed your eyes for a moment, unable to watch any longer as his words hit you like a freight train, the pain overwhelming you not only at the mention of Fred but of George's evident sadness.

You hear him throw himself down into his chair and you open your eyes again to see him looking completely defeated as he clearly plays out his options in his mind to prevent this from happening.

"Ginny's about to become a Potter, Bill and Charlie aren't in the bloody country, Percy's… well, Percy and Ron can't join in as a co-owner, the deeds are in mine and Fred's name. Six, well, five siblings and not one of them can help. Unless there's a way of bringing Fred back through the bloody veil, which I've exhausted all options in my bloody mind believe me, then I'm fucked. Everything Fred and I built is ruined."

You watch as his long fingers run over his face, rubbing his eyes which you suspect are brimming with unshed tears judging by his emotion filled voice.

Your words flew out of you before you could even comprehend what you were saying, surprising even yourself for a moment.

"I'll marry you."

George looks utterly astounded by your words as his eyes shoot up to yours, confusion evident over every single one of his features as your words sink in.

"Eh?" His brief reply conveys every inch of perplexity that his features show and at any other time the look on his face would have made you double over with laughter.

"Angel, I don't think now's the time," he says with a gentle frown, clearly treading carefully with his words despite his confusion. You fight to get the words out to explain yourself, knowing that somewhere before your unexpected outburst there was solid reasoning in your mind.

"You need another Weasley and the only way you can override the shared deed is by entitlement, like by marriage," you say, moving forward to stand in front of him before taking a seat on his wooden desk. Your leg brushes against his as you hop up and you don't miss how his eyes briefly flicker to the point where your legs touched just for a second.

"I've seen it with my parents, when my mum and dad divorced she was entitled to the interest of his business as a matrimonial asset. We'd have to check if there's a time limit on that but with Fred gone, it's the only way you'd be able to get another shareholder in his place."

You were trying to keep your explanation simple, pulling from your firsthand experience in similar matters but as you fought to explain yourself, you found yourself rambling a little under George's intense gaze.

"If we got married you wouldn't have to change the name, I'd take your name and we'd both be Weasley by law, cancelling out their demands. You'd have to put me on the business documents but we could draw up some sort of contract that doesn't actually entitle me to any money or profit from the business, but they don't need to know that."

Your words hang in the air for a few moments, tense silence lingering between you as your words replay over and over in your mind, wondering if you'd gone too far and made things too awkward.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," George says quietly, averting his eyes.

"Georgie I'd do it for you without a second thought, it might be the only way you could keep the business exactly as it is," you say, reaching out to touch his shoulder, trying to urge him to listen to you.

He fell silent again for a few more tense moments and you could see the conflict on his face as he considered his options, allowing your proposal to sink in. He's quiet again when he replies and if anything he looks a little timid as he speaks.

"But you and Fred," he weakly argues, his words making your stomach lurch painfully. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn't considered this part, the mental and emotional conflict of your proposal. You and Fred had been something throughout your later school years and a little while after, but had never wanted to make anything official, a secret shared between you both that never allowed you to commit to each other.

"Are in the past," you unwillingly admit with a sad sigh, "Fred's gone, it's taken me a really long time to mostly accept it, but if this means keeping his memory alive just as it is then I'd do anything, for him and for you."

Things were a little awkward for a couple of days following your outburst and each time you saw or crossed paths with George you inwardly cringed. You'd shut yourself in the office most of the time, trying only to see him before store opening and packing up and rushing off just before close, ensuring you wouldn't have to spend any prolonged time together.

"I know you're avoiding me," A familiar voice behind you says as you gather your bag and mug off the desk just before the end of the day, 3 days after your outburst. You turn slowly and see him leaning on the door frame with a little knowing smirk on his face, though his eyes look sad. You bite your lip, knowing you'd been caught out and flick your eyes to your bag, to the clock on the wall and then back to George, not really knowing how to respond.

"It's okay, I understand," he says, taking a slow step into the office, "but there's no need to feel awkward, not with me, I don't take it personally that you regret offering."

"I don't regret it," you reply quickly with a frown, effectively cutting him off. Your words make his eyebrows shoot you a little in surprise, or maybe it was the conviction in your voice that surprised him. "I've been avoiding you because it's been painfully awkward to offer yourself like that and be rejected."

"I didn't reject you," he replies quickly but with a gentle tone, now cutting you off. Your eyes widen a little at the quickness of the reply and you can't help but look into his eyes, seeing his tongue poke out and wet his lip as he looks nervously back at you.

You both look at each other for a moment as a little tense silence falls and you both breathe out a chuckle at the awkwardness in the room.

"So to make it clear, I could still marry you?" He asks, walking forwards towards you.

"I think the agreement was that I'd marry you," you teased, smirk tugging at your lips which earned you a roll of his eyes. "But yes," you said, now with a more serious and honest tone. "My offer to get married is still very much open, for the sake of the business."

He stands before you and you crane your neck upwards towards his familiar height and there's an intimacy that passes between you both that had never existed before as you look at each other, communicating only with your eyes.

"Then I accept your proposal," George says, taking your hand mockingly and you gasp at him, pulling your hand away to smack his arm lightly.

"I didn't propose to you!"

"That's not what I'm going to tell our grandkids," he jokes, pulling you into a hug. You can't deny that even though his words were mocking, your tummy did a little nervous and excited flip at his words.

"Thank you, so much," he says as you pull apart, completely serious as he looks at you with such intensity if makes your knees a little weak. "This means so much to me."

"And me."

It was Saturday night and you'd invited George around to your flat after work, to talk over your agreement. You'd opened a bottle of wine and ordered a takeaway, a benefit of living in muggle London that you loved, and started writing out some plans to your agreement as you both sat on the sofa beside eachother, the coffee table littered with notebooks and paper.

"We should move in together, make it believable," George says, taking a sip of his wine. You look at him in surprise, not having expected those words to fall from his lips.

"Who are we trying to convince?" You ask, a little confused at how deep this was going.

"Oh yeah, right," he says, looking away, taking another sip of wine. You immediately felt a little bad seeing his apparent negative reaction to your words and considered his idea for a moment, thinking of the implications.

"Unless the investors ask for character references," you said, picking up your own glass. "I suppose it's possible, we'd have to tell your family wouldn't we."

George nods slowly, on the same wavelength as you.

"Would your family be able to lie if they were questioned?" You ask, looking up at George.

George snorts into his glass and shakes his head in reply, "About hiding Harry, yeah, about this? No way."

"Then we'll have to convince your family that we're actually married," you say, feeling a little uneasy at the thought of lying to the family you cared very deeply for. George made a vague noise of agreement and placed his empty glass down onto the coaster on the coffee table, smoothing the creases in his trousers out with his long fingers.

"How long would we have to be married for?" George asks with a frown and you can't help but feel a little stab in your chest at his words, as silly as it was.

"Oh I don't know, until the investors drop the demand? Or maybe get new investors?" You ask, placing a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen into your face. George watches your every move and you can't help but stare back at him, seeing him paying close attention to you.

"How far away would we be from being able to do away with the investors? Business is good right, maybe I could cash in their shares and become sole owner," he says, flicking his eyes down to your work bag by the door, knowing that there's his accounting documents in there.

"Good idea," you say, placing down your glass and moving over to reach for your bag. You begin calculating the investors shares against the profits of the business and try and work out a timeline for how long it would take for George to earn the money to buy out the investors, assuming business stayed as good as it was now.

"Looks like two years, based on the projections," you say, placing down your pen. "If business stays at the rate it is, you'd be clear from all investors in just under two years."

"Is that, is that okay with you?" George says, looking up into your eyes, his voice suddenly quieter and a little more timid.

You smile at him and nod in reply, genuinely okay with that. "What about you?"

"Of course," he smiles, chuckling to himself a little as he picks at the tweed of his trousers, "you're doing me the biggest favour imaginable, I have the easy deal."

"You have to be married to me, I'd say that's not easy," you tease, picking up your glass and drinking the last sip of wine left.

"I don't know, I can think of many worse things than being married to you," he says with a grin, reaching out to refill both of your glasses. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you bite back a smile.

"I have to admit," George says, handing you back your glass, "I feel as if I'm treading on Fred's toes a little, he'd probably be conspiring to turn my eyebrows purple if he knew I was stealing his woman, that or he'd shave them off whilst I slept," he says with a laugh. You chuckle, picturing the scene in your mind but it doesn't stop the little pang of sadness running through you. You wanted to tell George the whole truth but you couldn't, especially not now and so you simply allowed yourself to laugh and took another sip of wine.

"He'd understand," you say, perhaps a little quietly as you try to tell yourself that it was the truth, trying to justify your actions in your mind. George makes a sound of agreement and just as his glass reaches his lips, the buzzer rings out alerting you that the food had arrived.

"So, we have to convince your family that we're getting married, without dating beforehand?" You say, both of you still chatting as you eat your Chinese food. At this point you were feeling a little buzzed from the wine and everything felt a little easier to get out, the hesitation and trepidation of your words no longer bothering you.

"Good point, though we've always been really close so I don't think they'd think it was too out of the ordinary," George says, taking a huge bite of fried rice. "Did anyone know about you and Fred?"

"I don't think so," you replied, thinking of all the time you'd spent at the Burrow and of each family member, "I think Ginny had her suspicions but she never asked me about it. Thank god you were identical, we could always lie and say it was you if anyone did notice something," you chuckled, earning an enthusiastic laugh from George.

"How do we explain the divorce though?" You asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, your thoughts drifting into all possible outcomes. "I don't want to lose your family because I become your horrible ex-wife," you say, feeling sad about the potential of that.

"You'd never be horrible, not to me and not to them," George says, reaching out to touch your hand. "We could always say we were just better off as friends? That marriage was too constricting for both of us? That way no ones to blame."

"Yeah that could work," you say, feeling a weird sense of sadness at the concept of divorcing George.

"On a serious note though," he says, temporarily placing down his cutlery as he looks at you, his eyes staring intensely into yours. "If you don't want to do this, I completely understand. It's asking too much of you and I'm very aware of that. It would mean no open dating or seeing anyone else until everything was over," he says carefully. You hadn't really considered that but it was a price you were willing to pay. The fact that George had said no open dating had made you feel a little off, knowing he intended to still date even though you were married, which of course was normal in the circumstances but it still made you feel a little funny.

"You'd still want to date?" You asked, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them, immediately mentally cursing the wine you'd drank that had apparently released your filter.

"Merlin no," he says with a little self deprecating chuckle, "I meant for you."

"I don't want to," you said, perhaps a little too quickly as it earned you a confused flicker of a look from George. "I mean, everyone would think I was cheating on you and I couldn't do that, not to you."

He seems to understand as he nods his head, once again picking up his fork and loading it up with the food.

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he says, with a determination in his voice that seemed to settle your anxious thoughts. "So, I suppose we really should move in together."

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@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness

@rk-ceres

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@justromaaa

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@havenater1920

[marlynnofmany]

One More Earth Animal -- Part Two

(Part One is here)

Fernando Hwan Tengku-Jones was expecting a cat. His friend on the colony world had said they were sending one that somebody’d left behind — poor thing! —and Fern couldn’t wait to give it a good home. He’d already cat-proofed his quarters as best he could. Fragile things were put away, his reading lamp was secured to the bedside table, and he’d grabbed a few cardboard boxes from the recycle stash that would make good hidey-holes. A litter box should be available somewhere in this space station’s commerce sector — he’d been here before. He could check after the drop-off. As much as he would have liked to get that set up first, he wasn’t in charge of the schedule.

His Frillian crewmates were curious about the companion animal that the captain was allowing him to bring onboard. He’d spent the last half of the trip telling them every story about cats he could think of. Each of them rippled their frills in patient disinterest, but he didn’t mind. They’d be won over by the adorable kitty soon enough.

When the ship docked at their usual berth, Fern did his part in helping unload the usual shipment. The specialty maintenance shop here always ordered the same stuff at this time of the rotation. Everything was normal. But then Fern got to dash off to meet another ship, and he was more excited than he’d been in a long time.

He called ahead, and was told to meet at the cargo bay door. When he arrived, he saw that this ship was unloading boxes as well. He didn’t see any logos anywhere, and the boxes weren’t even all the same kind, plus the crew wasn’t wearing uniforms.

Looks like one of those freelance setups, he thought while he patiently waited at a distance. That always sounded like such an unreliable way to make a living. But at least they get to travel to interesting places. Where there are cats!

When the crew finished handing the motley assortment of boxes off to a motley assortment of customers, the one with the tablet waved him over. This was a cute little lizard who probably wouldn’t want to be described that way. As yellow as a very serious banana. She called into the ship for somebody else to come out, and Fern was delighted to see another human carrying a cat-sized cage.

“Hello!” the other human said, waving her free hand. “I have something important to tell you about your new friend here.”

Fern was immediately worried. “Is it injured? Or pregnant?” His captain had approved a single animal, not a litter.

“Thankfully, no!” she replied, setting down the cage with the front turned away from him. “First of all, he’s perfectly healthy and perfectly tame. And he’s been fixed. But most importantly, his stink gland has been removed.”

“His what?” Fern thought of his aunt’s cat who had stunk up the house by scent-marking the walls. Wasn’t that just pee, not a gland?

“Congratulations,” the other human said. “You are the proud owner of a non-spraying skunk.”

“A what?” Fern said on reflex, processing her words.

She lifted the cage and turned it so he could see inside. “This is the friendliest little snuggle buddy, and he likes being brushed.”

Fern stared. A very fluffy skunk stared back. While most of his brain was still circling in shock, the thought surfaced that the animal really did seem tame: not threatening to spray even though its gland had been removed. Theoretically.

He asked, “You’re sure it’s completely de-stinked?”

“Yes.” The other human nodded. “Our medscanner is top-notch. And I spent a lot of time with him on the trip here; I’m certain he was hand-raised as a pet. No idea how the poor guy ended up in the middle of nowhere, but he more than deserves a loving home. Think you can give him that?”

Fern’s heart twinged, and he shook himself. “Yes, absolutely. Did he come with a name?”

The other human smiled. “Nope! That’s up to you. I’ve been calling him Fluffy, but that’s just a placeholder.”

“Seems pretty accurate,” Fern said, gazing through the bars.

The yellow lizard stepped forward with the digital paperwork. Fern signed for the skunk, his thoughts in a whirl.

“If you’re already set up with cat food, good news: skunks will eat that,” the other human told him. “They’re omnivores, so this guy will eat a lot of the same stuff you do, just try to keep it as close to nature as you can out in space: plain and not overly processed. He’ll love peanut butter and chicken eggs if you can get them. Oh, and keep him away from the usual list of Crazy Human Toxic Foods! No chocolate, onions, garlic, or caffeine. Or hot peppers, though that’s more unpleasant than poisonous for him.”

“Right,” Fern said, handing the tablet back. “Good to know; thank you.”

“Sure thing! I hope you guys have a long and happy life together.” She presented him with the cage and gave his uniform a look. “Merchant ship, right?”

“Talented Toolmakers, of Frillian Pride,” Fern recited automatically as he accepted the armload of skunk. “I got hired when the route changed to spend more time in human territory. But then it changed back, and I haven’t seen much from home lately.”

“Well this guy’s glad to have you,” the other human said. The lizard was already walking back into the ship. “We have to rush off to another delivery, but good luck! Skunks can get into places they shouldn’t, and claw things open that a cat wouldn’t be able to, so keep him away from the engine room.”

“Got it!” Fern waved goodbye as the other human trotted back onto her ship. While the bay doors closed, Fern took careful steps back toward his own.

He expected his crewmates to react in alarm at the news that his cat was a skunk … but he’d forgotten that they were unfamiliar with Earth animals.

“If it can’t make that smell, and it isn’t going to bite anyone, then I don’t see a problem,” the captain said. “Just keep it in your quarters while it gets settled in. You can bring it out under supervision later.”

“It really is as fluffy as you said,” remarked the engineer.

“What does it eat?” asked the pilot.

Fern replied, “A lot of the same things I do.”

“That’s convenient!” the pilot said. The others agreed.

And that was that. Fern took the skunk into his quarters, let it waddle around and sniff everything, then fed it a messy plate of cat food. He put a folded hand towel in the cage and gently stuffed the skunk back in so he could run off to buy a litter box without worrying about what it would do while he was gone.

He splurged on a fancy litter box with a covered top and an auto-scooper, designed for ship’s cats. When he set it up and opened the cage, the skunk went right for it, which was a relief.

Probably a relief for him too, Fern thought. He’s been in that cage a while.

The captain announced that they were taking off. Fern settled down to socialize with his new pet, confident that he wouldn’t be needed for a while yet. Their route was predictable, after all, and this next part involved a lot of empty space before they reached the warehouse.

A lot of empty space, and pirates.

Human ones according to the intercom, which just made the whole thing more insulting. This was NOT the taste of home he’d been missing. The captain’s announcement held a lot of profanity, and Fern could see why. It was bad enough to be shaken down when they had cargo they could be reimbursed for, but right now their hold was empty. And the pirates wouldn’t accept that.

They’ll want our own tools, Fern thought, looking around his quarters. And food, and fuel, and… His gaze fell on the skunk nosing about his bookshelf.

And fuck them.

He lunged for the intercom button. “Captain, if you’re sure they’re human, I have an idea.”

Several minutes later, the pirate ship locked onto the merchant vessel, and clamped an adapter over the airlock. Pirates gathered, ready to board, armed with guns and knives and vicious grins.

Those grins evaporated when the first pirate looked through the airlock porthole at what waited for them on the other side.

One lone human, wearing a breather helmet and carrying a fluffy, agitated skunk.

The pirates detached immediately and took off with enough thrust to rock the ship.

The pilot got the merchant vessel back on course, while the captain sang praises over the intercom, and Fern brought Fluffy the Fearsome back to his room for some well-earned brushing.

The next time that particular merchant ship passed through the area, it had a large emblem of a skunk pasted next to the company logo.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Hooters Waitress Y/N HC’s!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, flirting, creepy guy mention

An: Thank you so much for sending in requests!! These headcannons were inspired by this fic by @dunnswrld and one of my friends who once jokingly told me she was going to work at Hooters someday! Some of these HC’s were actually based on real events that happened to me or people I know XD anyways, thank you for sending in requests and please keep them coming!

After Jeff had to bail the guys out of jail due to their drunken antics, they were barred from partying for a couple nights,

And yes, that did include any trips down to the hotel bar. This was a huge boner killer because there’s only so much fun you can have getting hammered in your room.

“I mean, I like the guy-” Steve mused about Jeff as he laid back against one of the beds, “but I feel like a caged animal stuck in this joint...“

Inspired by their desperate predicament, Knoxville got an idea everyone was onboard with,

“I think there’s a Hooters across the street…Why don’t we go there?”

Technically a restaurant, Hooters was something that Jeff could let slide.

Now, you didn’t recognize all of them when they walked in, because you only paid attention to Jackass when the cute one was half naked on screen, but you could tell they were famous

Nearly shoving your coworker out of the way, you rushed over to where they had already gotten seated,

“Hiiii! My name’s Y/N, and I’ll be your server tonight!”

Flipping open your little notepad, you turned to the table, “Now, what can I get you boys to drink?”

Johnny spoke up first, sweet as always, “How about a round of beers for me and the guys? Miller High Life if you’ve got 'em, ma���am.”

As you jotted it down, the guys exchanged ‘woah, she’s hot’ glances. I mean, even in the world of Hooter’s waitresses, this lady was something…

And remember how you didn’t recognize all of them at first?

Well, given the fact your main customer base were middle aged men, Bam’s whole skate punk look with the black hoodies and eyeliner and whatnot didn’t exactly scream maturity to you

I’m not even going to mention his height…

Point is, you kinda assumed he was one of their teenage sons or step kids or something, so you bent down and asked him in that patronizing coo,

“Can I get the little prince of darkness anything to drink? We’ve got Sprite, Pepsi…”

After connecting the dots, Bam’s face flushed bright pink.

Part of him was pissed that you thought he was some prepubescent twerp, but at the same time he couldn’t be that mad because this hot piece of ass was being all sweet to him

Ry interjected, putting a paternal hand on his back before Bam could correct you, “The little guy’ll take a chocolate milk.”

That earned him a good, silverware rattling kick under the table.

After you dropped off their beers, you tottered off to tend to other customers and the crew got to discussing their smoking hot waitress.

Johnny, all of a sudden Mr. Polite, stepped in once the conversation got a little too raunchy for his taste, “Alright, boys- let’s be gentlemen here.”

“We’re at Hooters!” Bam scoffed at his resistance, “We don’t have t’be gentlemen!”

Ryan, who never really got the guys’ whole obsession with boobs, rolled his eyes at him, “You’re startin’ to sound like your uncle.”

Taking a sip of his beer, Dunn imitated Vito’s…unique manner of speech, “‘Oh, we’re at hooters! We don’t gotta be gentlemen!’”

“Fuck you.” “Fuck me? Fuck you!”

Finally breaking up the squabble was Steve, who had been busy eyeing your fine ass from across the room, and he leaned over to Bam,

“Hey, little prince of darkness- think’y could knock your crayons on the floor?”

Dropping off their drinks, you glanced around the table at the sleazy expressions that were all looking back at you and you asked if they wanted to order any wings

Flashing you a charming smile, Chris playfully wiggles his eyebrows at you as he put down his menu, “I was gonna ask if you were on the menu, but I’m a vegetarian!”

Steve saw his chance and quickly piped up from across the table, “I’m not!”

It was like some animal planet show, but instead of fighting for territory, they were all competing with each other to see who could get the pretty girl to look at them more.

Sure, it may have been against company policy to give out your number, but that’s only in instances when creepy men pester you about it,

Not so much if you happened to jot down your digits on the bill of a group of very handsome, very charming customers.

[arsenatupin]

Born from a writing prompt last year on Reddit

After boarding my ship for the new exploration program, I took the letter that my previous commander slipped me when he learned I was gonna take my first command and have some human crew with me. It seemed strange, but boarding was done, we were on the way and outside routine reports, I had nothing else to do.

„Dear Sterpiin,

Congratulations on passing the command examination and lending your first exploration vessel. I learned you were assigned to sector 235B and you had some human crew on board. Read carefully my letter as its content means survival of your crew and success of your mission.

You see, the humans had this custom when they were still exploiting minerals on their home planet. They were bringing a yellow flying pet with them underground and if it died, it means danger and the humans were running away from that place.

Now what I’m trying to say is this: if you land on a planet, all your instruments say the atmosphere is breathable and you don’t detect any dangerous wildlife, turn to your nearest human crew member and ask them what they think of this new planet you just landed. This human is your flying pet. If it tells you, that it ressembles any part of their home planet, you put a gag-order on the ship and don’t let anyone set a single step outside.

I was on one of the first explorations with humans in year 2,523 A.S. We landed on a planet full with dense vegetation and some insectoid form of life. The human said it reminded him of a place called Amazonia on his planet. After 3 cerelan hours, we had two crew members dead after being bitten by a 8-legged horror not bigger than a plate, and some small 6-legged entities invaded the ship by thousands. Those were the worst, they dilapidated our provisions, cut cables and melt several of our Xeraus friends with some acid in their buttocks. We lost 10% of the crew before running away, 25% more due to deficiency of survival systems in the following weeks and the rest barely made it home due to food rationing. When we asked the human about it, he said that they had the same kind of bio-hazard on their planet and as they used to see those all the time, he didn’t think there would have been any issue.

Remember it well, what humans consider home is a lethal environnement for most of us and our allies. They don’t mean to downplay the dangers, they just don’t see them, they are numb and quite immune themselves.

Your human crew is your flying pet for minerals adapted to space travel. If they say that the planet you landed reminds them of any place on their planet, DON’T EXPLORE!

Wishing you safe travel out there!

PS: be careful of any pet native from their home planet that they bring onboard. Some are obedient to them, but others just ignore all instructions and knock things all over the place

Sincerely yours,

Commander Fhiljan”

I put down the letter and thought pensively... I should ask a human for the name of this yellow flying pet, that could be useful.

———————————————

First time writing a prompt, advice welcomed (written on mobile sorry for formatting)

[maleyanderecafe]

Have you played binary star hero? I'm really interested in your thoughts on the project since it's from the person behind favor?

I did actually see this game when it first came out, I just didn't get to finish playing it until now. Binary Star Hero is a wonderfully made game that explores the darker side of heroism with great graphics and a good story. If you like The Boys or Invincible, then this game will likely scratch that itch.

The story starts out with the main character Blake explaining their backstory. They used to be a villain named Hush-Hush, working for a man named Double. After being unable to deal with being a villain they were able to escape and live as a bartender at a local cafe along with Haley, their boss and Miles, their goofy coworker. While Miles very desperately wants to be a hero, Haley and Blake talk about their dissatisfaction with Heros, how fake they all are and how they seem to only be used as a public face with very little humanity. While working, a customer named Ray takes a liking to Blake, flirting and making passes at each other. Later on, they see the famous hero Binary Star on the television, with both Haley and Blake talking about how fake he seems with his golden boy personality and some more flirting with Ray. Upon going home that day, Blake gets a call from Double, the man that they have been running away from, stating that he will come and find them. Despite Blake's efforts of starting a new life, it seems that Double will not allow them to rest well. They end up meeting Ray around this time who offers to help them carry groceries. Upon reaching Blake's apartment, there is an explosion in the background, as a fight has occurred. Ray at the same time has to leave for not hero purposes, leaving Blake with a linger yearning as they leave. At work, Blake gets hit on by a obnoxious hero named Blaze before Hailey and eventually Ray step in afterwards. There's also some news the next day where Binary Star basically kicks Blaze off a building (which is funny). Double ends up visiting Blake during the end of their shift, threatening them to come back and work for him despite the fact that Blake has been trying to run away. Following this, Blake decides to sever ties with both Miles and Haley so that they will not get hurt by their association with Double, leading to Haley being fairly saddened by their sudden departure.

Going home, Blake sees an article showing a...sexier side of Binary Hero before a giant explosion happens in the background. Panicking, Blake runs back to the coffee shop Haley to see if they and Miles are alright, which they thankfully are. Blake is then saved by Binary Star and brought back to their apartment. While calling Ray, Blake realizes on the TV that Ray is Binary Star and tries to process what's going on by walking outside. There, Blake is kidnapped by Double and taken away. Double wants to bring them back to their group but not without punishment, as he was able to get his entire crew onboard with finding Blake. As a punishment, he is about to cut off Blake's fingers before Ray comes to save them. After killing off a lot of Double's crew, Ray rescues them and brings them back to their apartment where he takes care of them, cooking food and taking showers. There is even a scene where Blake tends to Ray's wounds after a battle. Depending on affection level, they will even kiss and Blake will be bratty towards Ray.

During one of the showers, Blake shuffles through Ray's stuff to find a notepad and his phone. Either way, Blake finds a photo of them from a couple of years ago petting a cat. Depending on interactions we learn one of the following two: Ray actually saw Blake before when they were still a criminal, and was able to see the humanity of this world by basically watching Blake, something that he was never able to do before as he did what the Hero Association did. Blake can also learn about Ray's powers, with Ray describing a Binary Star as two stars that are bound gravitationally and orbit around each other, where often the bigger star will eventually swallow the smaller one. He basically is able to gain the super powers he has by killing them and taking their powers.

While Ray is gone, Blake can either call Double or Haley, or search up more information on Binary Star. Talking to either Haley or Double will lead to them both essentially saying that Binary Star is a psychopath and that Blake should get out of there asap, while looking up information on Binary Star will lead to learning more about his mentor, someone who seemed very pleasant but had many bad sides to him such as his sexism and abusive behavior. Learning about this can also lead to a conversation with Binary Star about his experiences with his mentor.

Blake wakes up to their apartment burning and tries to escape.

Trying to escape out of the balcony while calling for Binary Star will lead to him saving Blake and bringing them to his apartment where they live happily.

Trying to leave by their own whims will lead Binary Star to come, though disappointed that they did not call out to him. Depending on choices, this can lead him to either kill Blake outright, basically absorb them because of his powers or save Blake.

With high enough love with Double, Blake will be able to escape the apartment on their own only to bump into Double. Double reveals tauntingly that Ray was the one who started the fire, pointing out the fact that there was nothing that could indicate it starting normally and the fact that Blake never noticed. He's able to convince Blake to come back with him, working together in their villainous ways once more.

With high enough love from Haley, Blake will be able to reach the window and is saved by them, revealing that they are a villain who can shapeshift. Blake is able to escape thanks to Haley and Miles and the three of them continue stealing from the rich in a Robin Hood like fashion.

There are also a couple of after stories for each main character as well as an Easter egg for getting all of the endings relating to Favor.

I will say that this game is very well made just like Favor itself. It holds to a comic book style from the dialogue boxes to the backgrounds. The parallax on scenes is also a nice touch, though I do think that it's a bit overused in the game (though to be fair, when I first found out about parallax I had the same reaction). Overall, the game itself looks really nice and polished.

The world of Binary Hero Star reminds me mostly of The Boys in it's darker retelling of heros and the more extreme measure that they go through such as the description of Binary Hero basically lasering people straight in half and the general importance of public view that each Hero has to hold. There's also remnants of My Hero Academia and Invincible as well, both that show superheros in not necessarily traditional views that we normally do and often more brutal ways (especially in Invincible). It's always a fascinating view of just how twisted heros can actually be given the circumstances, especially with Binary Hero's power of essentially stealing powers by killing. It's nice to see the darker underbelly of the story as well with Double and in a sense Haley as they are both criminals but work in different ways. Seeing the city in chaos because of the aliens or villains that are attacking it being such a relatively normal thing is also something that was kind of fun to see. Generally the contrast and romance between a hero and a villain is always a fun thing to see.

Personally I like Blake a lot better than the MC in Favor, mostly because Blake is a lot more fleshed out with backstory and character. They still retain the more snarky attitude, but it does make more sense considering that they had to work with someone like Double and was a criminal runaway, so having that kind of view on Heros isn't necessarily something that is unexpected. Blake's Hush-Hush persona plays a bigger part in the story as well, as it's the reason why Double is after them and how Ray ended up meeting them in the first place. Blake is supposed to be written as a brat, which besides the fact that Ray pretty much calls them that can also be seen with Double as the affection for him only goes up if Blake is defiant with him. While I'm sure many people probably enjoy Blake being a brat to Ray's more brat tamer personality, I personally despise playing as a brat which is partially why I had to take breaks from playing the game every now and then. It's not really a bad writing decision per say since like I said, I'm sure many others will enjoy that dynamic, but I just was not the biggest fan of it. I will say though that I did like how Blake acted in the side story with Binary Hero, as the entire world gets killed by aliens, they have a chance to manipulate Ray into saving everyone by stating that they wanted their children to have a normal life, something that Ray jumps on. It's a last ditch effort since afterwards, Blake even hesitates on the fact that they'd even want children with Ray in the first place. I also appreciate their companionship with both Miles and Haley in that ending all of them are having fun while robbing a rich bastard's place.

Ray is an interesting case as a yandere since he does test Blake's loyalty towards him with the house fire. Considering his entire background from being sold by his mother to the Hero's Association (or whatever it is called in the world) to being trained to kill by a jerk mentor to absorb his powers, he has been through a lot. If his only salvation was from a criminal he saw many years ago that changed his mind, then it would be safe to assume that he would doubt his own feelings, especially since he also has a cynical personality of no longer believing in humanity. Of course it seems that he's been following Blake for a while now given the photo that he keeps and his general over protectiveness after Double kidnaps Blake, murdering everyone in sight and wanting them to move into his place so that he can take care of them. This is especially true in the after ending where Blake watches as everyone else dies before them due to alien attacks and Ray nonchalantly doesn't seem to care, because as long as they have Blake, then the others don't matter. Still, the love at first sight portion is a bit weak in my opinion, since I feel like there could be other ways that Ray could have fallen in love with Blake. Again, minor nitpick though, Ray is a very fun albeit terrifying yandere, though it does make me wonder what happened in endings where Blake ends up going with Double or Haley.

Double you can argue might also be a yandere too depending on how you view it. Double is a pretty menacing character not only in design and attitude but also in action, being able to get the entire team to track down Blake and ready to torture them. Considering he actually goes to quite long lengths to find them and in the extra ending even chaining them up in his place, you could see him more as a more violent or possessive yandere type. This all depends on whether you view Double's interest in Blake as a type of love or not though.

Haley is of course my favorite (because why wouldn't they be) considering their ending is probably the happiest, escaping and stealing with Miles and Blake. It's also pretty cool to hear about Mile's history as well with his family being all villains but him wanting to be more of a hero. Shows that he has a bit more depth than initially just being a hero fanboy who is clumsy. I honestly would love to see more of these three on adventures stealing things. It makes me wonder what will happen with Ray if they all meet up again, perhaps it will lead to a tragic end to everyone.

Like I said though, a very fun and interesting vn about the darker side of heros, all with a yandere main love interest. We get to see a lot of this world and the character Blake on their escape from villainy as well as Ray's infatuation and testing with Blake, as the two have a loving but seemingly damaged relationship. All the characters are fun to watch and very unique in their own right so that you don't forget them. I hope that you play this game because it is a quite an experience.

[illuminatedquill]

Ghost Stories 06

Feat. Ursa Wren + The Ghost crew

Story Summary: The Ghost lands on Krownest for a brief resupply and also to visit Sabine, who chose to remain with her family to help marshal the Mandalorian forces against Imperial rule on Mandalore. Ursa Wren, Sabine's mother, comes onboard the Ghost to formally introduce herself to her daughter's friends.

The bitter chill of Krownest's morning air greeted Ursa Wren as she stepped outside the fortress walls of her home. Even with a heating unit installed into her custom-made beskar armor, the cold still found a way to seep through. Despite having spent a lifetime living on the frigid planet that her ancestral clan called home, she never could get used to the freezing temperatures.

In the legends of Clan Wren, the world had once been a beautiful, thriving green planet, filled with lush forests and bountiful lakes. But then a great battle had taken place, between her ancestor, Princess Lenora, and a great witch that had come to steal something precious from her. The fight had scarred the planet's ecosystem, somehow plunging Krownest into an endless winter.

Krownest's unhospitable climate made it good for a few things, she admitted. It made Clan Wren a particularly formidable force, even among the fabled Mandalorian warrior caste. Surviving out here, in the frozen tundra was a rite of passage for any warrior on Krownest: you had to be resourceful, quick to adapt, and possess sheer force of will to battle against the elements.

There was also the added benefit of making any potential ground invasion a suicidal venture. Whoever was foolish enough to attempt found themselves wishing for the swift death by a Wren, instead of the slow freezing hell they would find themselves resigned to from the planet's unforgiving nature. Flying was also hazardous, since the erratic changes in weather could freeze fuel lines in vulnerable space craft or decrease visibility so drastically that all a pilot could see was a wall of white ice and sleet before slamming into a mountain side.

Finally, because of the constant blizzards and storms, it rendered most scanners commonly in use by the galaxy useless - which meant that Krownest was an excellent place to hide contraband, ranging from different types of medicines to various weapons of war, from prying eyes.

It was for this last reason that they had received visitors on this day. Sipping at a mug of freshly brewed caf, with a splash of honey added, Ursa stared at the old freighter docked in their landing bay below.

The Ghost. Its crew made of an eclectic team of rebels, comprised of a Twi'lek, two Jedi, a Lasat, a homicidal astromech unit and, formerly, her daughter, Sabine.

Her mouth twitched. These were the people who had housed her daughter - her heir - for the past several years. She had spent time with the two Jedi and, from what she could tell, they had earned her daughter's trust and loyalty.

Enough to defy me and the Empire, she thought with no small amount of bitterness.

She knew how suspicious Sabine could be towards people, which said volumes about how deeply she cared for the people on that ship if she would defend them against her own flesh and blood.

But, then again, she was the reason why Sabine was so slow to trust others in the first place.

Tristan, her youngest, appeared by her side. "Good morning, Mother," he murmured.

Ursa nodded at him. "Same to you. I take it Sabine is already onboard with her friends?" she asked.

The ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Never seen her move so fast. They hadn't even landed yet when she bolted from the war room."

Ursa felt her mouth twitch again. Is this jealousy? she wondered.

Tristan glanced at her. "Do you wish to meet them?"

Ursa sipped again at her caf, contemplating. "I'm not sure if that's wise. Sabine would most likely disapprove."

Her son turned to her fully, his expression intensely curious.

Ursa eyed him, feeling unnerved by his stare. "What?" she demanded.

"You're scared," he observed. "That's a first."

She almost spat out her caf. "Scared? Of what?"

Tristan pointed at the freighter. "Scared of them. Sabine's friends. You're afraid that they're really better than us."

She glared at him. "That is nonsense. Strike the thought from your mind, young man. We are Sabine's true family."

He shook his head sadly. "It's not like that, Mother. Not for Sabine. It's not 'us versus them' to her."

Ursa arched an imperious eyebrow at her son. "Oh? And what is the truth of it, then?"

Tristan gave her a pointed look. "You'd know that if you actually talked to her."

She glowered at him. "I am losing my patience," she growled.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "We're all family to Sabine," he said quietly. "All of us - and them, too. She wouldn't replace us anymore than she would with them."

Ursa fell quiet, his words twisting their way through her gut.

"There was no trade, Mother. Her family just got bigger, that's all," he pointed out.

She studied her youngest for a long moment - and then smiled. Reaching out with a hand, she fondly ruffled his hair. "When did you grow up to be so wise, my beautiful boy?" she asked.

He grinned at her in a disarmingly boyish manner, breaking through the normally serious outlook that was the default expression for Tristan. "Are you going to meet them?" he asked.

Ursa sighed. "I suppose so," she said reluctantly. "If anything, just to be a good host."

"You'll turn on that famous Clan Wren charm, I hope," he teased.

She swatted a hand at him in annoyance.

The hatch was closed when she arrived a few minutes later. Steeling herself to whatever encounters she was about to experience inside the ship, she knocked loudly on the steel frame.

For a few tense seconds, nothing mattered. Then a speaker blared with an unfamiliar voice: "Who's there?"

Ursa replied, "This is Ursa Wren, Sabine's mother. I wish to come inside, if that's alright."

Another pause. Then: "Uh, hang on just a second. I'll open the hatch."

She stepped back a few paces. The hatch opened with a pneumatic wheeze, lowering into a ramp for her to step into the freighter. Standing in the entrance was a large Lasat, dressed in a modified combat suit for his stature, staring at her with a curious expression.

Fo a few moments they just exchanged a look; two warriors, both from dying cultures, sizing each other up.

Ursa broke the silence first. "A pleasure to meet you, Garazeb Orrelios."

The Lasat blinked at her and then did something surprising - he bowed, if somewhat clumsily. It was a formal gesture of respect; one he clearly hadn't done in quite some time, she observed.

"I extend the same greeting to you, Lady Wren," Orrelios replied.

She studied him some more. "Sabine told me you were once a captain for your people's Royal Guard."

"That is correct, Countess," confirmed Orrelios. "I am familiar with royalty."

Ursa smiled. "I am not royalty. My title is simply an inheritance. I am no Queen."

"But you bear yourself with as much regality and grace as any royal subject," Orrelios observed. "And you have done much to earn the title several times over, despite the title being inherited."

She blinked. "Did Sabine talk about me?"

The Lasat shook his head. "No. But I see it in the way she conducts herself. Your daughter wears her surname with pride and steel, just like her mother."

She was touched. The Lasat had a rough appearance, but he spoke with no small amount of heart and authenticity. It wasn't hard to see why Sabine regarded him so highly.

Ursa bowed to him in return. "May I come aboard, Captain?"

"You may," he replied. "And please - call me Zeb."

Zeb, as Ursa now called him, gave her a brief tour of the freighter. She was surprised at how roomy it was, despite the sheer number of supplies crammed inside. The Lasat rarely had to duck down to enter a hallway or room, and walked with the ease of someone who was comfortable with their accommodations. Ursa rarely travelled on ships, preferring the commonly used Fang fighters that were synonymous with Mandalorian culture as a vehicle of transport.

When she first saw the ship at a distance some time ago, her first reaction was to be appalled that her daughter called such a place home for some time. Now, looking around at all the different customizations and obvious care taken into the ship's interior, she began to realize that Sabine might have felt more at home here than back at the fortress of Clan Wren.

How many hallways had she walked down only to spot a doodle on a wall? Sabine's artwork popped up everywhere she looked. On Krownest, her daughter had kept her art kept within the pages of a sketchbook only.

These friends, Ursa began to realize, have not only physically returned my daughter to me. They have also brought her back to herself.

Finally, they came to the communal room. Stepping inside, she saw two figures sitting at a table: one was the familiar face of Kanan Jarrus, one of the Jedi that had accompanied Sabine when she first returned home. The other was a green-skinned Twi'lek woman, similar in age to Jarrus, wearing an orange flight uniform that had seen its fair share of usage.

Jarrus had his arm draped around the Twi'lek's shoulders, his head reclined as though dozing. The Twi'lek - Hera Syndulla, Ursa now recalled - was concentrating on a data-pad, reading intently what was on the screen.

As they entered the room, the Jedi sat up - his partially masked face turned in their direction. "Zeb," he said cautiously. "You've brought a guest."

Hera looked up. Ursa was taken aback at how blue those eyes of hers were - it felt like they were piercing right through her.

"Hello," replied Ursa. "We've met before, Master Jedi."

Jarrus nodded respectfully towards her. "I remember, Countess. This is the captain of our modest little crew - Hera Syndulla."

She extended her hand, which Syndulla grasped firmly. Ursa felt her respect towards the Twi'lek rise several more notches at the strength in her grip. There's steel in her, she remarked.

"Pleasure to meet you at last," Syndulla said politely. "I see where Sabine gets . . . well, everything."

Ursa snorted. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

The Twi'lek's face split into a warm smile. "A little bit of both. Are you here for her? I can call her up, if you like."

She paused for a moment, thinking about what she should say.

Finally, she simply said, "I just wanted to say thank you. For Sabine."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Jarrus smile a little. Syndulla looked surprised and asked, "For Sabine? Why?"

"Everyone here on this ship . . . you restored her to herself. I thought I had lost my daughter forever," Ursa replied, fighting to keep the quiver from her voice. "Not just in a physical sense, but in who she was before everything went wrong."

Syndulla shared a look with Jarrus. Next to her, Zeb scratched idly at his head. Ursa heard a loud sniff from his direction.

"Sabine has inherited much from you, Ursa," Jarrus said firmly. "We may have helped Sabine find her way back to you, but it's only because she had the strength to persevere through whatever challenges the galaxy threw at her. And that incredible strength comes from you."

"And there were quite a lot of challenges," Zeb agreed. "Feels like it was practically every week, in fact."

"Families are complicated," Syndulla added. "Believe me. I know."

Ursa said wryly, "Our family is certainly no exception to that. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to you all for giving Sabine a home. A place where she can be herself."

"You all talk with her so easily," she said. "I wish I knew how to do that."

Jarrus shared a look with Syndulla, a faint smile playing on both their faces. "Well," Jarrus said, "it helps if you talk to her."

Ursa frowned. "I do talk with her," she replied.

"Not the way Sabine tells it," Zeb pointed out. "You talk at her. That's different."

She thought about it. "Oh," was all she said.

Syndulla interjected, "Although, with Sabine, it is difficult to hold a conversation with her at times. Especially when she's upset."

"That happens a lot when we talk," Ursa replied dryly.

Jarrus chuckled. "We've had our fair share of that, too."

"How do you get her to speak openly then?"

"How do we get her to lower her guard, you mean?" asked Syndulla.

Ursa nodded.

Syndulla smiled. "Lower your own, first."

Ursa paused outside the door of her daughter's room; inside she could hear a pair of voices, loud enough to be heard through the metal.

One of them was certainly Sabine - and the other one was . . .

She leaned in close, straining to listen.

" . . . long have you had these bandaged like this, goober?" That was Sabine.

"Uh. A few days, I think." This voice belonged to Ezra Bridger - the young Jedi who was close to her daughter.

"You're supposed to change out the bandages," said her daughter, sounding annoyed. Annoyed . . . and worried.

Ursa narrowed her eyes, thinking.

"Oh. Right," came the hesitant reply. "Anyway, how are things with your family?"

"They're fine, Ezra," said Sabine impatiently. "And don't change the subject. How did you get hurt? Those Jedi senses of yours getting rusty?"

"Stormtrooper snuck up behind me during a firefight. I'm . . . I'm still getting used to you not being there to have my back anymore," Bridger replied quietly.

"Oh," was all her daughter said.

There was an uncomfortable pause. "I didn't mean it like that, Sabine," Bridger said hastily. "I meant - "

"I know what you meant," replied her daughter quietly. "It's okay."

Ursa, entranced by what she was hearing from her daughter's voice, leaned in closer to better hear the conversation -

The door slid open.

She almost fell straight onto her face, catching her balance at the last second.

Ursa looked up to see the two of them look horror-struck at her sudden presence, sitting close together on the bottom bunk of a two-bed configuration. Sabine, staring at her with wide eyes, exclaimed, "Mother!"

Bridger, on the other hand, abruptly stood up, banging his head on the top bed's underside. He yelped with pain, clutching at the top of his head.

It was then that Ursa immediately noticed that the young man was shirtless. A medical bandage, presumably applied recently by her daughter, was visible on his upper arm.

A-ha, she thought.

Straightening up quickly, Ursa said, "Hello, Sabine."

"W - what are you doing here?" Sabine sputtered. Her eyes were flitting nervously between her and Bridger.

"Just came to formally introduce myself to your friends," Ursa replied.

Bridger, to his credit, recovered with haste. Standing ramrod straight, a lump on his head, he stuck out his hand. "Hello, Mrs. Wren!" he said in a squeaky voice. "It's a privilege to meet you again."

Ursa stared at the young man, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why are you shirtless in my daughter's room?"

She glanced at Sabine. "This is your room, correct? That is what the others told me."

Bridger took a small side-step to position himself between Ursa and her daughter. Despite the situation, a smile threatened to crack through her stern facade. The boy was brave, she had to give him that.

"It is, Mrs. Wren - "

"Countess Wren," she corrected.

"Countess Wren," continued Bridger, his face coloring to an alarming shade of red. "Yes, this is Sabine's room. I was just - uh - we were just - you have to understand, I'm not usually shirtless when I'm alone with Sabine in her - her room."

It was like watching a train wreck. Bridger stumbled through the final words of his statement, his eyes widening with embarrassment as he realized in real time how what was spilling out of his mouth did not help clarify the situation at all.

Amused, Ursa let the silence hang thickly after his words. "Why are you not shirtless in your own room, then?" she asked, her voice whisper soft.

The young Jedi turned to look at Sabine, who had buried her face into her hands. He would not find help there, it was clear.

With a loud gulp, he looked back at Ursa. "This isn't what it, uh, looks like," he said lamely. "I mean, your daughter and I - we're just friends."

"Indeed," observed Ursa. She glanced at Sabine, who still was hiding her face. "Friends who seem comfortable enough to be semi-naked with one another."

"Yes," said Bridger, not picking up on the sarcasm. He looked relieved. "And this isn't even the worst Sabine has seen because one time I fell into a thorn bush and it was all over my legs, so she's seen way more - "

Sabine's face finally snapped up. "Ezra! Please, stop making it worse for yourself and just get out."

The young man froze at her daughter's voice, blinked several times in quick succession, and then quickly acquiesced to her command. Grabbing his shirt, he scampered out.

Leaving Ursa alone with her daughter. Sabine let out an exasperated sigh and laid back onto the bed.

Ursa took in the sight of her daughter's bedroom, drinking in the colorful art displayed all over the walls. "He's certainly a handful," she commented, finally allowing a smile.

Sabine snorted. "I take it that he won't be strangled then?" she asked.

"Not today, no. I was listening outside. I know you were tending to his wounds."

Her daughter peered up at her. "You're not upset? Really?"

Ursa shrugged and sat down next to her. "He's your friend. You care about him. And I'm grateful to him for bringing you back to me."

Sabine sat up and looked at her thoughtfully. "So am I," she said.

"Do you miss him?" Ursa asked suddenly.

Sabine looked away. "Yeah," she admitted. "I miss him. I miss everybody on the Ghost."

Ursa studied her. "You could go back to them," she said quietly. "If you wanted to."

Her daughter's face snapped back to hers, eyes wide. She could see the gears turning behind those eyes, considering. Ursa saw a conflicting array of emotions warring for control in Sabine's expression.

Finally, Sabine shook her head. "Someday, I'll go back," she answered. "But my place is with you. I've been running away for too long."

Ursa reached out and enveloped her daughter into a hug. Sabine froze and then melted into her embrace. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.

"I should have said this before," whispered Ursa, "but thank you for coming back, cyare. Despite all that has happened between us."

Sabine squeezed her tightly. "We are family, Mother. I will always come when you call."

Ursa smiled and then released Sabine from her grasp to look at her.

My how she's grown into a beautiful young woman, she thought. How much have I missed with my stubborn pride.

Blinking away the tears, Ursa sought to change the subject. "So, you and Bridger. You're really just friends?"

Sabine's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, but her expression remained neutral. "Yeah. Been that way for a while now."

"I noticed the wound was located on the upper part of his arm."

Her daughter frowned. " Yes. Why?"

Ursa gave Sabine a sly look. "Doesn't seem necessary to remove his whole shirt for that, I would think."

Now her daughter's cheeks were definitely a rosier shade of pink. She cast her eyes down and shrugged. "I was just, uh, being thorough. Ezra's clumsy with medical stuff. I wanted to ensure he didn't miss any other wounds."

"Uh-huh," said Ursa. "Sure."

Sabine looked at her, expression defiant. "What?" she demanded.

Ursa just grinned and ruffled her daughter's hair fondly.

[fuzzkaizer]

BOSS - CE-1 Chorus Ensemble

"... yeah, there’s a reason why they occupy so much Cabinet real estate. The company created the “first” of a variety of effects, and was certainly the first to offer many types in compact boxes. However, one such pedal is a stone-cold all-time classic despite never being offered in Boss’s trademark compact enclosure. That pedal is the CE-1 Chorus Ensemble.

Released one year after parent company Roland’s flagship Jazz Chorus amplifiers, Boss did what was once considered the unthinkable. Following the rapid and perhaps unexpected success of the aforementioned amp series, Roland wasted no time with ripping a circuit straight from them and putting them in a floor unit. In fact, this circuit ended up being the first pedal to bear the Boss name, and what a first it was.

Back when the CE-1 was conceptualized, the idea of mains-powered pedals was pretty commonplace. Mu-Tron effects used them, and so did MXR on some of its more ambitious models. Onboard and oftentimes custom-wound transformers ensured that voltages would be stepped down at precisely the right increments in order to preserve tonal integrity and headroom.

Of course, most pedals of the time also ran on nine-volt batteries, establishing a standard that continues today. But before these standards were established, the idea of grandiose effects thrived under the usage of mains power. Such a boundless canvas allowed companies like Boss to rip entire hunks of circuitry straight from larger silicon conglomerates and put them right at a player’s feet. These days, very few manufacturers offer such exacting circuitry, and the few that do charge exorbitant prices.

The CE-1 is one particularly exceptional example of this practice, because it expands on the original circuit, with the added bonus that you can play it through an actual tube amplifier. It also adds an extra functionality that the Jazz Chorus just couldn’t match. The Jazz Chorus gives players both Chorus and Vibrato modes, and to that end, serves up three knobs, of which Speed and Depth are two. The third knob is actually a rotary switch that chooses either mode. While the JC-120 offers a footswitch input to toggle the effect on and off, the CE-1 does one better and converts the rotary switch into a stompable button, meaning you don’t have to do the Angus Young duckwalk back to your amp mid-set to change modes. Nobody wants to do this.

Roland’s Jazz Chorus—and thusly the CE-1—couldn’t have come at a better time for end-users or commerce. Californian semiconductor company Reticon developed the first bucket-brigade device (BBD) and distributed them through the usual suspects, including Radio Shack under the store’s in-house Archer brand. The only problem—again for end-users and commerce—was that each one cost a crazy amount of 1970s dollars. Even at wholesale prices, Reticon’s SAD series of BBD chips made effects a bit on the expensive side.

Shortly after in Japan, Matsushita released the genesis of the Japanese BBD boom that ended up sinking Reticon and all pedals that relied on it. The first chip off the Matsushita line was the MN3002 and found its way into the CE-1 tout de suite. With the combination of the relatively inexpensive BBD and the full-strength brawn of the circuit itself, the CE-1 made a splash in the effects world and primed the pump for Boss’s compact series to take the effects world by storm.

The most unsung piece of the CE-1 puzzle is the onboard preamp that preps the signal for its impending modulation. While many effects and amplifiers (especially of this era) features “high” and “low” inputs, they usually correspond to a brute force approach that swaps out resistors in the signal path. However, the CE-1 preamp section starts with an op-amp preamp circuit that sweetens the signal, and switching over to high mode inserts a transistorized gain stage between the input and the op-amp section. This adds a velvety gloss to the signal before it ever sniffs the BBD chip, catapulting your tone into heights unreached by lesser devices.

It’s not often that almost 50 years later, no effect of a given type has surpassed the first one ever created, but such is the case with the CE-1. Its combination of unsurpassed tonal brilliance, component count and wacky power requirements has cemented its place in the effects hall of fame, leaving even the most modern refinements squarely in the rear-view mirror."

cred: catalinbread.com/blogs/kulas-cabinet/boss-ce-1-chorus-ensemble

[kenyatta]

NOT LONG AFTER she started, Uber deactivated Barbosa’s account out of the blue. So she switched to renting one on Lyft from the same guy. Now she drove as “Shakira.” When the Lyft app prompted Barbosa to confirm her identity by scanning her license, she texted the guy she was renting from: What now? He sent back a photo of Shakira’s ID. Oh. She was real. He paid Shakira a fee each week. Driving without a license, under the table on a tourist visa, loaded Barbosa with stress. One night, Barbosa picked up a passenger at 2 am and he tried to kiss her. She had to fight him off and left him one star on the app; she didn’t want to risk calling the cops. Another time, she was pulled over for having her lights off. Barbosa froze as the officer strode up to her window, worried she might get her car towed and end up in jail, or even—who knows?—deported. She showed the cop her Brazilian driver’s license, and said she’d left her American one at home. He let her go. In WhatsApp groups, and while waiting for riders at Logan Airport, Barbosa chatted up other Brazilian drivers also renting accounts. They traded tips about driving without papers, the nuances of the fuzzy don’t-ask-don’t-tell status quo in a country that hasn’t passed comprehensive immigration reforms in more than three decades. Far from an ICE officer on every corner, she heard, if you kept your head down, didn’t drink and drive or pick fights, you could manage. [...] One of her customers left their wallet in her car. She followed the woman’s convoluted instructions to return it, driving to two far-flung locations over two hours. Miffed, at one point Barbosa opened the wallet. She looked at the woman’s license, blonde with blue eyes. Barbosa snapped a picture. She thought the woman might tip her or at least say “thank you” for having wasted two hours, unpaid, to do her a favor. Instead, the woman was rude and short, giving Barbosa the push she’d been looking for. “I said, yeah, now I’m going to use this.” Over the next few weeks, she would click through the driver onboarding process on both Uber and Lyft, reading over the steps to create her own account, mulling the risk. Finally, lying in bed on Christmas night, the first one she’d spent without her family, it was time: She opened her phone and scrolled to the blonde woman’s license. Barbosa uploaded the license to the Uber app. She used the woman’s name but her own insurance and registration. She entered her own iCloud email and phone number and set her own picture—brown hair, brown eyes—on the driver profile. She made up a Social Security number, submitted the application, and went to sleep. The next day, Uber approved the account. Like that, Barbosa was in business for herself.

[bleachbleachbleach]

tbt to that time someone in the Seireitei had a candlemaking side hustle

where the draw was that each candle was meant to evoke different types of reiatsu, as described by the traditionally florid prose of candle/perfume descriptions. There was some press around the candles' potentially homeopathic effects, and though the 12th put a stop to that pretty quickly, some shinigami had standing orders for the candles because some users swore that burning the candles could help augment one's own reiatsu. (One wing of the 3rd Division barracks did burn down, but that's neither here nor there.) You could commission custom blends if you paid for a reiryoku reading, which the candlemakers then used to whip up a candle specialized to you.

Where things got really tricky was when the founder of the Gotei Candle Co. tried to step it up and offer a limited edition Gotei Captain candle set, where each candle was meant to describe/evoke the reiatsu signatures of, well, the Gotei Captains. You can't normally brand things like that without express permission of the Council of 46 (though notably not the Captains' individual permissions, which don't factor into this at all, officially), but the Gotei Candle Co. knows that the SWA gets permission to run their calendars every year, and they thought if they did a Gotei Candle Co. x SWA collab, it would be a real knockout event.

BUT photo calendars are one thing and reiatsu signature candles are another, and when this went to the Council of 46 they found that they DID actually have to consult the Gotei, to determine whether or not the candles constituted a breach of military security. And this had to go to a Captains' Meeting vote. The voting was split across several positions:

captains who believed the candles constituted a breach of military security because anything COULD be a breach of military security

captains who realized that believing that would mean greenlighting the idea that the candles were accurate to their reiatsu in any way, which might tacitly confirm the notion that the candles had actual homeopathic validity, on which grounds they refused

captains who believed in the candles, actually

captains who were willing to say the candles were a breach of military security and all that other stuff just because they did not want the candles to exist

captains who had no real opinion on military security or science but disliked the candles, yet still refused to tarnish their principles by pretending the candles were legit even if it meant they had to be a candle

In any case, the Council of 46 refused to make a move without evidence-based deliberation from the Gotei, so they had to spend hours and hours sniffing candles as part of the process. And the 12th wanted to run a test so there'd be science-backed proof that the candles did/did not accurately type Captain reiatsu, because they did not believe captains sniffing things constituted actual evidence-based anything. There was some pushback against this, but ultimately the 12th prevailed and the REASON the 12th has all the captains' reiatsu typed--and having this done is now part of any captains onboarding, even post-candle debacle--is because OF THESE DANG CANDLES.

Eventually the Gotei decided, fuck it, these candles are a no-go, I don't care. But then Sasakibe brought up the fact that to deny them outright was technically a violation of the Commercial Clause of 1457, which states that when military procedure infringes on free trade within the Seireitei, it must offer an alternative enterprise as part of the sanction. After all the candle business, having to deal with this hangup was the closest the Gotei has ever come to executing mass ritual suicide in Yamamoto's office. Strange but true. The candles, man.

Anyway, at some point Byakuya leaks this to Shirogane, because He Cannot With This, and Shirogane suggests "okay no candles but what about eyewear tho" and Byakuya brings this to the next Captains' Meeting and Byakuya is, briefly, a HERO to his peers, and Shirogane is a HERO and that's why they let him leave the Gotei entirely and open up a glasses store.

[armgaragedoorbeverlyhillsca]

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[acceptccnow]

Discussing Partnerships in the High-Risk Merchant Processing Industry

Article by Jonathan Bomser | CEO | Accept-Credit-Cards-Now.com

In the current financial landscape, the high-risk merchant processing industry plays a crucial role in facilitating transactions for businesses considered riskier by traditional financial institutions. As businesses aim to expand their reach, partnerships become a key strategy in navigating the complexities of accepting credit cards.

Merchant Account Processing: Building Trust through Collaboration

In the realm of high-risk merchant account processing, establishing reliable partnerships is of utmost importance. Given the unique challenges associated with high-risk businesses, collaboration between payment processors and merchants can lead to innovative solutions that address specific industry needs. One primary advantage of strategic partnerships in merchant account processing is the ability to pool resources and expertise. Payment processors, with their knowledge of compliance requirements and risk management, can work closely with high-risk businesses to create tailored solutions. This approach not only ensures smoother merchant onboarding but also fosters a relationship built on trust and understanding.

Accept Credit Cards: Expanding Market Reach

For businesses operating in high-risk sectors, the ability to accept credit cards is a game-changer. Consumers increasingly prefer the convenience of card payments, and businesses unable to accommodate this preference may find themselves at a competitive disadvantage. Partnerships in the high-risk merchant processing industry can open doors for businesses to seamlessly integrate credit card acceptance. Payment processors, equipped with the latest technologies and security measures, can guide merchants through the integration process. This enhances the customer experience and broadens the market reach for high-risk businesses, enabling them to tap into a larger consumer base.

Payment Processing: Mitigating Risks through Collaboration

Effective risk management is at the core of successful high-risk merchant processing. In a landscape where fraudulent activities and chargebacks are prevalent, collaborative partnerships become instrumental in developing robust payment processing solutions. By leveraging the expertise of payment processors, high-risk merchants can implement advanced fraud detection tools and security measures. Shared insights and data analytics can further enhance risk assessment strategies, allowing businesses to stay one step ahead of potential threats. Through these collaborative efforts, the payment processing experience becomes not only secure but also efficient.

Enhancing Customer Support: A Focus on Service Excellence

Providing exceptional customer support is crucial for building long-term partnerships in payment processing. Collaborative efforts between payment processors and merchants can extend beyond transaction processing to include comprehensive customer support services. By working together, payment processors can offer dedicated support teams that specialize in high-risk industries. These teams are well-versed in the unique challenges faced by merchants in these sectors and can provide timely and knowledgeable assistance. Whether it's addressing payment issues, resolving disputes, or providing technical support, a strong focus on service excellence strengthens the relationship between payment processors and merchants, fostering trust and loyalty.

Staying Ahead of Regulatory Compliance: A Shared Responsibility

Compliance with regulatory standards is a top priority for businesses in the high-risk merchant processing industry. Collaborative partnerships play a vital role in staying ahead of evolving compliance requirements and ensuring adherence to industry regulations. Payment processors can actively monitor changes in regulations and communicate them to their merchant partners. By sharing insights and providing guidance on compliance best practices, payment processors help high-risk businesses navigate the complex landscape of regulatory requirements. This collaborative approach minimizes the risk of non-compliance, protects businesses from penalties or legal issues, and maintains a strong reputation within the industry.

By working together, payment processors and high-risk merchants can proactively address compliance challenges, establish robust internal controls, and demonstrate a commitment to operating ethically and responsibly.

[open-hangar]

Space Defense Lanzer Ep. 8

LUNARIAN MECHANICAL RECORDS

Μακάριοι οι Παρατηρητές

Custom Lanzer Type-Selene

Size: 20m, 60 tons

Power Output: 990 MW/minute onboard, [REDACTED]

Pilots: 1 active pilot

Weaponry and abilities: Space flight, limited atmospheric flight, modular weaponry and armor. Limited onboard weaponry.

Etc.: Changes to this Lanzer by anyone other than Lt. Truth WILL NOT be approved, and will result in disciplinary action.

Elysian had been going over a list of things to confront their commanding officers about ever since they arrived back on the moon. Or, at least, as long as they’ve sat in this decontamination chamber, as everyone coming back from a chargon-rich environment is forced to. Where’s Cynthia? Why can I breathe easily on Earth? Why didn’t you try to rescue me? Why-

“Lt. Truth.”

Their concentration was shattered as their mother appeared in front of them, her figure flashing up against the wall of the chamber. It was a perfect illusion, proving that it was a direct feed to the other side of this wall. Elysian did their best to put on a serious face to confront their mother.

“Where is-”

“Shut up.”

The chairwoman’s voice was like a laser drilling through Elysian’s skull. They had been trained their whole life to obey her every word, but this was more important. They forced themself to push onward.

“Where. Is. Lun-”

“You had been ordered to confirm the existence of an earthling secret weapon and target it for bombardment. But you failed. You rushed in and got our most important weapon destroyed.”

Lt. Truth knew they had screwed up. They were the one that had been shot down, after all, but something about the way that Chairwoman Truth said it impressed it. Elysian now knew in their soul that they had royally messed up. But they couldn’t let up, not now.

“Why can I breathe without my mask,” the pilot forced out with the angriest scowl they could muster. They hadn’t been given a rebreather to replace the one they had lost on Earth, so every part of his face was visible. Their commanding officer just stared back, and sighed.

“All the work that we put into you, we somehow failed to give you the ability to put 2 and 2 together to make 4.”

This only made the pilot angrier, proven by how they attempted to smash their first against the false window in front of them, which did little other than make the display flicker.

“QUIT SCREWING WITH ME!”

The councilwoman didn’t care about her offspring’s outburst, however. She simply stood and stared before continuing.

“That chamber is filled with the same level of chargon that Earth’s atmosphere does. Roughly 80% or so of the mixture that feeds through your mask, and 40% of what the Type-Artemis feeds through your body when you’re used as a reactor.”

Elysian grows numb as they instinctively cover their face and step backwards. “M-my.. entire life…”

“Before that. In-utero. Carrying you to term shaved 8 years off of my life and every day you make me regret that decision.”

The pilot collapsed to their knees. The scars on their back ached and itched. “The Type-Artemis…”

“You were designed to pilot it. Designed to be the perfect Lunarian, completely unable to produce chargon. But for some reason, that kills you, so you need to be fed more externally. Conveniently, that means that the Type-Artemis can use your organs as a second reactor to boost its strength without needing to carry extra weight. Or, rather, it could until you destroyed it.”

Elysian Truth now knew why his mother had treated him like a pawn, an object for their entire life. It hurt, sure, but the explanation gave them a small bit of closure, as now they knew that their usefulness to her had come to an end with Type-Artemis’ destruction. It was all the pilot could do to genuflect to the floor and beg for forgiveness.

“Mother. I’m sorry that I’m no longer of use to you. Please make my termination as painless as possible.”

A small compartment on one of the walls slid open, a box designed to transfer small objects in and out of the chamber. It contained a rebreather identical to the one that Elysian had worn their entire life. Truth eyed it, confused.

“The chargon scrubbing sequence will commence in 30 seconds. I suggest you prepare for it. Hopefully, you’ll still be useful.”

—

As Councilwoman Truth led her child down the hallways of Aristarchus Base, Elysian felt the crisp, clean air against their skin and felt at home again. But they had to accept that it was a lie. This clean air and the perfection of being a Lunarian would only kill them. Before too long, they reached an elevator, which led down into the subterranean levels, outside of the clearance of most pilots. The door then opened to a dark hangar, and several spotlights shining on a Lanzer.

It was big, maybe 10% larger than most Lanzers that Lt. Truth was familiar with. But the thing that stood out most to them was how unbelievably similar it looked to the Type-Artemis. Same basic shapes, same color, same head, everything. But every subtle detail showed that it was made from completely new parts, a new generation of the Type-Artemis.

“Behold, the Type-Selene,” Councilwoman Truth demanded. “Every weakness of the Type-Artemis has been shaved away, including the stupidity of its pilot. Whereas the Synth-OSi AI merely recommended against foolish choices, it will now take control away from you when necessary, as it did when you were a toddler.”

Elysian could hardly believe his ears. “Cynthia?! It’s still here?! Cynthia!!” The ground and air shook as the clamps holding the Type-Selene in place opened seemingly out of nowhere, and the machine stepped forward on its own. It grabbed the walkway with its manipulators and opened up its empty cockpit, sending a gust of warm, comforting air. From inside the cockpit, a familiar voice reached the young Truth.

“Hello, Lt. Truth. It is good to see you again.”

Elysian could only burst out in tears at the voice. “Cynthia! I thought you had died! I’m so glad…”

“Yes. The Lunarian military successfully retrieved me after what I was told was a long, difficult fight. I look forward to flying with you again.”

The lieutenant looked back at the councilwoman, unsure if the AI was telling the truth.

“Yes,” the councilwoman assured the young pilot. “We still have a mission for you, a chance to redeem your disgusting performance. And you’ll have plenty of backup, too.”

She raised one fist, and snapped her fingers. The rest of the lights in the hangar lit up to illuminate dozens, maybe even hundreds of more Lanzers bearing the signature look of Lunaria’s engineering. They all looked so similar to the Type-Artemis, but painted a sleek black, and each one of them had their own pilots standing at stiff attention saluting Councilwoman Truth.

“If those damned savages think that they can destroy our Lanzers that easily, then we will be glad to prove them wrong.”

Art by https://x.com/REEvolt119956