#Examination Management Software | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misseviehyde · 4 months

Text

CONFISCATED - PART 2

Beth cursed as the clutch on her car made another unpleasant grinding sound and the automobile leapt forward a few inches. Yanking the gear stick hard, she managed to regain control and finally pulled off into the traffic at a reasonable crusing speed.

This car was a total piece of shit, but since finalising the divorce with Lawrence she'd been struggling financially and the last thing she could afford right now was a new vehicle.

Lawrence and her had split up amiably enough and he always paid his alimony on time, but Beth knew they were both struggling to manage. Bella was at a difficult age and their separation had affected her most of all. She seemed to think money, popularity and status were all that mattered and she was addicted to her mobile phone.

Beth was still hopeful that Bella would mature and realise there was more to being a woman than how you looked and what you could get out of men. She herself despised gold-digging bimbo's and was uncomfortable when she had found Bella looking at breast enhancement websites.

Bella had inherited Beth's flat chest and she seemed determined to find a way to cheat nature. She'd already told her Mom she was determined to get implants as soon as she was able - although she'd gone suspiciously quiet about it recently, almost as if she'd found some other way to get what she wanted.

Beth just wished her daughter could be happy the way she was. She didn't want her daughter becoming a spoiled gold-digging, fashion obssessed bitch.

A ripple suddenly seemed to pass through the air. A faint vibration that made her shiver and the hairs rise slightly on her arms. Beth's mobile phone on the passenger seat suddenly buzzed and the screen lit up.

CONNECTED TO BRAT APP. DOWNLOADING SOFTWARE.

Beth didn't look at her phone, she assumed it was just a message and she would read it later.

BRAT APP INSTALLED. CONNECTED TO ACCOUNT LOREN. UPDATING... UPDATING... UPDATING...

Beth's phone began to throb as an upload bar began to rise on the screen.

And on the steering wheel her nails began to lengthen into slutty acrylic claws...

***

"Mmmmh, OMG I'm like sooo fucking hot," giggled Loren as she admired her slutty reflection in the mirror. Moments had passed since she had pushed the button on Bella's mobile phone and the electrifying transformation had taken hold. She was still tingling with the orgasmic pleasure of becoming such a bitch. She felt fucking yummy.

Loren could taste sexy pink lipgloss on her lips, she could smell girly bodyspray rising from her clothes and she could feel her long blonde hair tickling her neck and shoulders. Her stupid cock was gone, replaced by a superior pussy. Her large perfect breasts hung heavy and pleasingly obvious on her chest. Her ass was perfect and her long sexy legs went on for miles.

And it wasn't just the physical changes. It felt like her head had been dumped in a bucket of water. The rush of the change had disorientated her and reset her mind. She was thinking in terms of female pronouns, she could only think of herself as Loren now.

She still remembered that a moment ago she'd been Lawrence, Bella's Dad - but now that seemed almost like a crazy memory belonging to a different person. This new persona that Brat App had created had taken control. The man she had been was gone.

Or was he?

As Loren examined herself, she felt some aspects of her old personality resurface and fight back. It isn't easy to completely alter someone and as enticing as this new body and mind was, some element of Lawrence was fighting back.

Looking down at Bella's mobile phone... NO... Loren's mobile phone now, Loren saw that the Brat App was open. There was a menu open.

REFUND PERIOD - 24 HRS. CLICK HERE FOR A FULL REFUND AND REVERSAL OF ALL CHANGES. AFTER 24 HOURS YOUR REFUND IS NULL AND VOID, ALL CHANGES BECOME PERMANENT.

Loren's finger hovered over the button. So... she COULD go back to being Lawrence. She could end this with a single click and reverse all the changes.

But then again she had 24 hours. So why not use them?

Loren knew she'd regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't take advantage of this new body. She felt new hungers, new desires. She was a teenage bitch now and she wanted to know how that felt. She closed the menu. She definitely wasn't ready to end this yet.

Thoughts of wearing slutty clothes, manipulating and controlling boys, bullying other people they began to run through her evil new mind. The Lawrence part of her was uncomfortable at these wicked thoughts, but he was currently too weak to fight as Loren took control.

She picked up her phone. She needed some porn or something. She was horny. She stopped as she saw there was another menu running in the app, she looked at it curiously.

MAKING REALITY ADJUSTMENTS TO SUIT UPGRADED LIFE. ADJUSTING FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS. BITCHY RICH MOM PROGRAM RUNNING.

Loren looked at the app nonplussed. What the fuck did that mean? Was someone else being transformed? She wondered who and a slight tingle of excitement thrilled through her that another person was being corrupted in order to make her life better. It felt good to be the centre of attention.

The thought made her tingle and she brought her hand down to her pussy. Mmmmh oh yeah...

She opened the app and her lips twisted into a smile as she saw a name. Beth.

Loren saw that there was now an avatar of Beth on the screen. Upgrades were already happening, but she had the power to adjust things to.

She began to finger her tight pussy as she began to fuck up Beth...

***

Beth groaned and her car swerved as a sudden pulse of pleasure shot through her body. "Wh... what the fuckkkk?" she hissed, her body tingling pleasurably and her head spinning.

She looked down.

Her hands seemed different somehow. The nails long and slutty, the fingers dripping in expensive rings. Her usually pale skin seemed tanned and smooth. No... wait, this is what her hands always looked like. She loved a sexy, expensive manicure.

The car beneath her was changing. The seat became expensive leather, the interior more sumptious. The gear box became automatic and Beth leaned back and purred with satisfaction.

On the seat the phone throbbed and the upgrade bar rose higher.

She loved driving this Mercedes... just like she enjoyed all expensive things. Money, wealth and power were all that mattered. It was a lesson she was teaching her daughter Loren, oh and possibly that other wretched daughter of hers Bella.

No... wait... who the fuck was Loren? Bella was her only daughter? No...Bella was the daughter she hated and wish she'd never had.

Beth groaned as conflicting memories and feelings throbbed through her mind. Reality bent and buckled as the Brat App adjusted her to suit it's new narrative. Loren needed a Mommy. A rich, spoiled, mean bitchy Mom. Bella was no longer important. She was being relegated to the unpopular daughter.

In this new reality, Beth was an evil gold digger who only cared about money and status. She doted on her daughter Loren and bullied her othet daughter Bella relentlessly.

Beth moaned in pleasure and her seat belt twanged as her tits began to inflate.

Beth's chest began to tingle. She had no idea that across town Loren was pushing the button for bigger and bigger implants. She wanted her Mommy to be absolutely massive.

"Fuck yessss!" moaned Beth as her once flat chest blossomed out and two massive silicone milkers stretched and grew out. Her clothing transformed to accommodate her new bust as her lips filled with collagen and her hair became silkier.

"I looooove my big tits," she hissed.

Beth remembered now - her massive fucking boobs made her SO much better than other women. She was better than them in every way.

When Lawrence had died, the money from the insurance had paid for these tits. Soon after she'd married a millionaire, a rich black man named Logan. Now she was super happy with him. He was successful and he spoiled her rotten.

Beth... no... that wasn't her name. Bethany... she went by Bethany... recalled all the cruel and evil things she had done to get ahead. She loved being a bitch and she'd taught her daughter Loren everything she knew.

Latex, big tits, sex appeal - it was all a woman needed. She loved being a cruel fuckdoll who took everything she wanted.

Her silver Mercedes Benz purred beneath her hands... her designer dress hugged her body. She effortlessly cut through the traffic not caring about speeding. The police were in her husbands pocket as was half the city.

She owned this town.

Driving through the electric gates of a private mansion, Bethany pulled up and swapped seats with the Butler. He would park the car in the underground garage for her.

Striding into the house, her panties wet at the thought of how Logan would fuck her later she glanced around. "Where is Loren?"

"Your daughter is in her room Madame," whimpered a pathetic maid. Bethany made a mental note to have her punished later.

"Where is my husband?"

"By the pool Madame."

Bethany smiled and adjusted her massive tits within the tight latex dress she was wearing. "I will go see him first then..."

***

Loren moaned... her pussy exploding as she squirted again.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk."

Making Beth into an evil latex bitch was so wrong. Turning her against their own daughter was perverted. Loren loved it.

Doesn't it feel good to live only for pleasure and being a bitch?

Loren slid her three fingers back into her tight pussy and began to moan again.

"Noooo this is wrong, this is fucked up," she hissed - but doing nothing to stop. "I shouldn't be doing this."

You love it. You are Loren now and you are all that matters.

Loren glanced down at the Brat App. She still had plenty of time left before she had to activate any refund. She needed to experience more... she needed to learn more about her life as a teenage bitch.

The house had changed around her to a mansion and she now had a bitchy Mom. Going to her window she looked down at the pool where her Mom was riding her step-dad like a pornstar.

It was fucking hot.

Loren giggled and smirked. Being an evil little bitch suited her. She still had so much to find out before deciding if she should go back to being Lawrence.

And most important of all - she had a sister to take care of. Loren squirted again... then wiping her sticky pussy clean, she walked to the wardrobe to get dressed.

It was time to find more out about being a bitch and have a little heart to heart with her sister.

End of Part 2

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #m2f transformation #f2f corruption #corruption #bully #m2f corruption #evil bitch #Brat app

206 notes · View notes

karoochui · 10 months

Note

I just wanted to say I am so enamoured with Binary Insurgence! I eat up everything, every little crumb, you drop about it and the entire idea is so interesting to me! I'm so in love with stories and worlds like this! I'm also curious to know about the relationship between Sun and Moon, if it's alright to ask. How was it before the fire compared to after? Does their relationship begin to mend (because I'm certain over the years it deteriorated) when y/n comes back into the picture? If any of this is too spoilery or you just haven't fleshed it out yet then you don't have to answer! I'm just super curious about the boys and how you see their dynamic/relationship. I just look forward to seeing how their bond has grown and/or broken and how it may be mended over time.

AHH im glad you like it so much!! Im happy to talk about what i've got, but you are right not everything is fully fleshed out. I have points i wanna get to but while im brainstorming and planning i make up a lot of stuff as i go and then go over it again later to see if i like it or can connect stuff in any way. I have 3 chapters for Arc 1 fully summarized as of now! (Which probably doesn't seem like a lot but i like my chapters long, so it's quite a bit actually).

I wanna say, too, that i'm planning for the first story to be more in the perspective of the reader, so most things about Sun and Moon's personal thoughts and feelings are gonna be more implied than said. I might have some switching points of view, i'm not sure, but i haven't found a place i'd do it or think it's relevant. The sequel is gonna be more from their perspective since it'll mostly be about them.

NOW! I see Sun and Moon as brothers, so they really treat each other in a way that's like that. Before the fire they get along pretty well. Most instances of issue would be when Moon blocks out Sun when he fronts, or just mutual panic over the fact Moon lost his shit w/ the virus. They'll have their disagreements about things (i havent planned specifics yet) but generally they're chill. Sun just worries about Moon hurting people, but Moon worries too. With the way the virus functions in this AU it's hard for Sun to fully fault Moon for what he does, especially because he's also affected by it but not nearly as bad. (I'm gonna explain this more in another ask i have).

Plus, even before the virus they were always glitch/bug-ridden because technicians fucked up their programming continuously after removing them from the theater to work in the daycare. So they had to kinda navigate through that together, glitches and errors on both ends (though not deadly). They hate P&S bc of this, obviously. Hardware fixes suck but they fucking HATE software examinations.

Later on though some issues come into play whenever Sun starts getting worse by being further exposed to the virus (it gets worse for him when they eclipse) because it presents itself in Sun differently than it does Moon. He gets snappier and angrier at times (that comic i made that's captioned "well someones snappy") and while they both understand he doesnt mean the shit he does it's still not great. And nobody's gonna just let themselves be talked to like a dog even if the reason it's happening is because of something the other person can't really help. They're still relatively fine at this point, though.

It's at the end when shit goes really bad, because this part of the story does end badly. I won't spoil specifics but after the fire Sun loses his shit. He starts trying to put the blame on Moon for everything (the virus enhancing his already bad habits/fucking with his line of thinking) out of grief and anger. That carries over into the apocalypse and he just gets worse in general. He gets irrational.

It's a long period of time though, so he eventually also manages it, in his own way. But! I did say before in an ask that in the sequel he's "not evil, persay, but he's a fucking nut". He damns Moon to an hourglass to just fucking get rid of him about 100~ years before they meet you again (he fully thinks he's in the right for this (and he also just hates him) and the only reason he really even stayed around after that was to make sure Moon didn't get out again). He's not a bad-intentioned individual, but he's off the fucking wall at many times bc of the virus having made him worse. He's stubborn as all hell to an infuriating degree, he's irrational, hard-headed, reckless, and while a good bit of his old, kinder self is still pretty prevalent he can be downright fucking mean if provoked. Again, worse than before, and it doesn't take much these days! I always imagined him to have more dramatic, snappy, diva aspects to his personality (even before Help Wanted 2 came out) bc hes so theatrical and intense, so basically take a Sun that's like that, crank it up to 100 and put him in a Bad Situation. That's what Round 2 Sun is like at his worst. He's not a complete lost cause though, and he's far from dumb when he does stuff, just clouded by his own judgement. He doesn't think anything's wrong with him (or does he?).

Moon doesn't really hate him like Sun hates Moon, because although he knows that what happened (the ending of the first story) is technically both of their faults he just feels guilt. They do fight a lot, though. Most of it is Moon trying his best to tell Sun that he's basically full of shit and not seeing things right after Sun starts something, but Sun's at the point where he's gotta learn by consequence. Part of the reason he's so bad is bc 1: hes been infected by the virus for so long now and 2: in his grief, anger, and resentment he's learned to live with it rather than fighting it.

But the sequel is gonna be a feel-good story! Falling in love w/ the reader all over again, i want things to get cleared up - or at least some kind of middle ground between Sun and Moon - the whole sha-bang.

#my asks #binary resurgence: round 2 au #binary resurgence

64 notes · View notes

covid-safer-hotties · 1 month

Text

Pain emerges as dominant symptom in long Covid, UCL study reveals - Published Aug 28, 2024

Pain may be the most prevalent and severe symptom reported by individuals with long Covid, according to a new study led by UCL (University College London) researchers.

The study, published in JRSM Open, analysed data from over 1,000 people in England and Wales who logged their symptoms on an app between November 2020 and March 2022.

Pain, including headache, joint pain and stomach pain, was the most common symptom, reported by 26.5% of participants.

The other most common symptoms were neuropsychological issues such as anxiety and depression (18.4%), fatigue (14.3%), and dyspnoea (shortness of breath) (7.4%). The analysis found that the intensity of symptoms, particularly pain, increased by 3.3% on average each month since initial registration.

The study also examined the impact of demographic factors on the severity of symptoms, revealing significant disparities among different groups. Older individuals were found to experience much higher symptom intensity, with those aged 68-77 reporting 32.8% more severe symptoms, and those aged 78-87 experiencing an 86% increase in symptom intensity compared to the 18-27 age group.

Gender differences were also pronounced, with women reporting 9.2% more intense symptoms, including pain, than men. Ethnicity further influenced symptom severity, as non-white individuals with long Covid reported 23.5% more intense symptoms, including pain, compared to white individuals.

The study also explored the relationship between education levels and symptom severity. Individuals with higher education qualifications (NVQ level 3, 4, and 5 – equivalent to A-levels or higher education) experienced significantly less severe symptoms, including pain, with reductions of 27.7%, 62.8%, and 44.7% for NVQ levels 3, 4 and 5 respectively, compared to those with lower education levels (NVQ level 1-2 – equivalent to GCSEs).

Socioeconomic status, as measured by the Index of Multiple Deprivation (IMD), also influenced symptom intensity. Participants from less deprived areas reported less intense symptoms than those from the most deprived areas. However, the number of symptoms did not significantly vary with socioeconomic status, suggesting that while deprivation may exacerbate symptom intensity, it does not necessarily lead to a broader range of symptoms.

Our study highlights pain as a predominant self-reported symptom in long Covid, but it also shows how demographic factors appear to play a significant role in symptom severity.

With ongoing occurrences of Covid-19 (e.g., LB.1, or D-FLiRT variants), the potential for more long Covid cases remains a pressing concern. Our findings can help shape targeted interventions and support strategies for those most at risk."

-Dr. David Sunkersing, Lead Author, UCL Institute of Health Informatics

In the paper, the researchers called for sustained support for long Covid clinics and the development of treatment strategies that prioritize pain management, alongside other prevalent symptoms like neuropsychological issues and fatigue.

Given the significant impact of demographic factors on symptom severity, the study underscored the need for healthcare policies that addressed these disparities, ensuring equitable care for all individuals affected by long Covid, the researchers said.

Study limitations included a lack of information on other health conditions participants may have had and a lack of information about health history. The researchers cautioned that the study may have excluded individuals with very severe Covid and those facing technological or socioeconomic barriers in accessing a smartphone app.

The study was led by the UCL Institute of Health Informatics and the Department of Primary Care and Population Health at UCL in collaboration with the software developer, Living With Ltd.

Source: University College London

Journal reference: Sunkersing, D., et al. (2024) Long COVID symptoms and demographic associations: A retrospective case series study using healthcare application data. Materials Today. doi.org/10.1177/20542704241274292. journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/20542704241274292

#covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #public health #still coviding #wear a respirator #long covid

15 notes · View notes

i-am-cholera · 7 months

Text

Hello, everyone! This spring will be busy for me (mostly because of uni stuff) so I will not be so active here for a while. BUT I still made one thing and it's game mockup about Tia and Luna (here called Elea & Agnieszka)!

So story is about two sisters from Europe - one prosecutor (graduated) and the second is forensic science student. They both travel to USA for internships but instead of doing practice in human world they isekai find themselves in the pony world (pre-alicorn era).

Not to waste a time, girls decide to apply their knowledge about law and enforcement into practice since local tribes - pegasi, unicorns, earth ponies - don't get along at all.

The game is a visual novel but has a lot of interaction elements like shooting from a gun, taking photos, collecting and examining evidence, debating (like in ace attorney), using smth similar of real softwares that forensic scientists use bc i don't want to be sued haha but TruView Cloud is real and I used it only as visual example.

I had this idea for a pretty long time and finally I managed to properly visualize it. I had a lot of fun headcanoning (and still have) so maybe in the future I will make a couple of more arts relating to this story and those girlies.

And for now - bye!

#mlp #mlp fim #game mockup #clip studio pro #fandom #digital drawing #digitalart #digital painting #law enforcement #visual novel #novel #prosecutor #forensics #princess celestia #princess luna #forensic science #forensic scientist #law

33 notes · View notes

vmedulife · 2 months

Text

National Assessment and Accreditation Council (NAAC) Software is an autonomous agency that has been grading Indian colleges since 1994. It is a self-governing body supported by the University Grants Commission of India, which is based in Bangalore. The NAAC assigns grades to colleges based on the quality of their educational programs and facilities.

visit us: vmedulife.com

#autonomous software #library management system #campus management software #education software #fees management software #management system #examination software #management software

1 note · View note

peskellence · 4 months

Text

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: In the aftermath of Detroit's android revolution, Nines grapples with the complexities of his newfound deviancy. As he seeks to establish his place in a newly transformed society, his resolve is put to the ultimate test when he is paired with Detective Gavin Reed-a notoriously volatile human with a well-established hatred for androids-to investigate a series of murders.

While initial impressions of his partner seem to suggest his reputation is well-deserved, the more time Nines spends with him, the more he is forced to challenge his judgments. As they form an unexpected bond, the RK900 is also pushed to examine truths about himself he would much rather seek to forget. (A Retelling of 'More Than Our Parts' from the POV of Nines.)

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 6.9K

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel

♡If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know♡

The passive assault of his presence was less egregious than the previous day, with the smell of cigarettes less pungent, overwhelmed by a cheap aftershave. It didn't make the journey pleasant, but it was tolerable nevertheless. Easier for him to filter traces of the man from his olfactory channels, keeping them clear for the most part.

It was approximately two minutes following their departure that Reed decided to speak, and his tolerability promptly expired.

"Connor called you Nines."

The detective wasn't looking directly at him, staring forlornly out the window with arms folded across his chest, like a child who had just been denied a visit to their favourite fast food chain. Despite his current avoidance, he still managed to find a way to glare at him through the reflection of the glass.

The android considered ignoring it—disregarding the grumblings as though he'd failed to hear them—but he knew this would only open the gates to further confrontation. While his partner was far from an expert in android physiology, he knew well enough that Nines was capable of advanced environmental awareness. It would make for a flimsy justification, one that could not be maintained for long.

"...Excuse me?" The words resembled a sigh as they weakly passed his lips.

"I asked if you had a name, and you lied to my face." Reed was now turned to him, having pulled his cheek from the glass. "Why would you do that?"

The oil of his skin and the fog of his breath had left an unsightly mark. Fitting, given the persistent stain the man was proving to be in his life.

Nines made an effort to keep his demeanour suitability impersonal, not wishing to encourage the dialogue. Taking a moment to compose his response, he mulled over the best method to shut things down as quickly as possible.

Evidently, the delay proved too much for Reed. He started to lean in, chin jutting belligerently, closing what limited gap existed between them. Nines found it fascinating how, despite all the open repulsion the man expressed towards him, he proved exceptionally willing to invade his personal space.

His partner had all but crawled into his lap as he asserted one of his fingers into his vision. The digit hovered dangerously close to his LED, threatening to tap it. " Hello ? You doing a software update or what?"

The RK900 tilted back as far as his current position allowed. Reed did not seem like the type who could be reliably trusted to wash his hands, and he did not wish for his hardware to become contaminated.

"It was not a name I chose for myself. It was assigned to me by Lieutenant Anderson, and RK800 has since adopted it. A nickname of sorts."

"How adorable." The detective's lips curled unpleasantly, revealing that any purported charm was entirely fictional, "and I don't get to know about your cute little pet name because...?"

"From my understanding, terms of endearment tend to be reserved for use amongst friends. While I hope we can find a way to work together amicably, I cannot anticipate ever feeling fondness towards you."

"So I'm not good enough to be your friend? That's a real shame."

Desperate for some means of distraction, Nines deactivated the vehicle's autopilot, taking hold of the wheel. He found solace in the act of driving: A task that required no complex personal engagement, just the methodic execution of his programme.

There was little point in making an effort with Reed. RK800's lessons in diplomacy could not be applied, as it seemed to matter little what approach he adopted—be it amenable or obstinate.

"I meant what I said yesterday about our partnership. Just because I can conduct myself with professionalism, a skill you seem to be woefully lacking in, it does not detract from the complete disdain I feel towards you."

The detective pulled back sharply, permitting access to the gear shift he had been draping himself over. His heart pounded in zealous thumps, rumbling through the RK900's skull.

" Screw you ." The words were snapped as a coarse hiss, the increase in blood flow igniting a fire across his cheeks. "I don't give two shits if you want to keep your nickname between you and your gal-pals. From now on, I'm calling you Nines."

The RK900 did not respond, maintaining his focus on the road ahead. It was clear Reed was lashing out in any way he could—at least, to whatever degree could be considered 'safe.'

He experienced a slight twinge of pride, knowing the man's fall from inflated assurance had been his doing. Evidently, the tumble had left him distraught, an emotional low he lacked the skill to pull himself up from.

While the constant yaps of protest were irritating, their impact was becoming more benign. All it had really required was a subtle tune of his inputs. 'PROTOCOL: REED' as he had labelled it in his database.

The newly developed system was not infallible, but it was helping. Nines was confident it would continue to increase in effectiveness—provided the stimuli remained predictable and no additional obstructions emerged.

Reed had relegated himself back to his post of sullen lookout, observing the passing buildings and cars as they whistled past. It was the closest to a willing forfeit he seemed capable of, which Nines received with cautious optimism.

The more the RK900 was permitted to function effectively, the quicker their affiliation could be dissolved. Allowing them to move on with their respective lives, the period spent as 'partners' an unfortunate footnote in their careers.

> Perhaps he can prove willing to learn.

> To adapt to the unfortunate circumstances of our partnership rather than let hatred rule him.

The vehicle was quiet for the remaining journey until they turned into the street of their destination. Passing a lacklustre procession of beaten-up stores, the automatic braking system activated, signalling they were close to the crime scene.

Reed only spoke again as the DPD barricades came into view, cornering a particularly derelict alley, as well as a number of officers:

"Well, look who it is..." The vehicle came to a stop along the perimeter, and the man wasted no time in making his escape.

The rattling of the door handle was sharp and hurried, like an animal trying to warp the bars of its enclosure. Nines half expected him to drop to his knees and break into a bestial sprint, charging down the sidewalk.

"I'll go and see what's happening. You stay in the car, and I'll call you, okay?"

His suggestion conflicted with the android's primary directive and was promptly disregarded. Studying the congestion on the road, Nines determined the safest approach would be to exit via the same route. He calmly slid his way over, moving to place his hand on the seal of the passage—

Then the door was slammed in his face.

> Perhaps not.

The world was momentarily forgotten as Nines' self-preservation protocol activated. He deftly retracted his hand, sparing it the force of the impact. His head could not be manoeuvred with the same efficiency as the momentum rattled the car, sending a ripple through the seats. The android fell back against them, clutching the side of his grazed cranial chassis.

After ensuring no internal damage had been sustained, he dismissed the warnings flashing in his ocular field. With cognitive functions reconfigured and preservation mode disengaged, the android was permitted freedom to make a more reasoned assessment of what had just occurred.

Very little was done with this permission.

Rational thought fell to the wayside in favour of a rising temper. Clearly, what minuscule credit he had lent Reed still proved entirely too generous.

Another notification entered his HUD, and he made a frustrated attempt to dismiss it—until releasing it had nothing to do with his rocketing internal temperature. It instead informed of an unread message on his communication network:

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> I really am sorry about earlier. I wasn't thinking.

> Let me know when you arrive at the crime scene.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> We have just arrived.

> Detective Reed has slammed the door of the patrol vehicle in my face.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Oh. Right.

> RK800 is processing…

> Are you okay?

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> My diagnostics suggest that no lasting damage has been sustained.

> So yes. Physically, I am fine.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> You don't know if he did it on purpose.

> It could have been an accident.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> It wasn’t.

A petty side of him wished to stay in the car, allowing his partner to bumble aimlessly through the ongoing proceedings. He was certain the toxic mixture of apathy and overconfidence would lead to a plethora of missed evidence—the ensuing reprimand being something he’d gladly witness.

Unfortunately, Reed was not the only one who would suffer in this imagined scenario.

Poor-quality police work would only make his own duties harder, demanding he spend more time with his partner as he attempted to cobble together his woefully ramshackle accounts.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Where is Gavin now? Is he still with you?

Nines looked through the window, studying his partner as he chatted with one of the attending officers. Given his broad smile and relaxed slouch, he had either developed a more sadistic delight for the brutalisation of androids—or their conversation had little to do with work.

Honing into the frequency of the exchange, the RK900 anticipated confirmation of the latter:

"—What about you and that Jack guy? I thought you two were getting serious."

"We were. Until he decided to trade me in for a younger model."

"Ahh, I see. Sorry to hear that—”

Having heard more than enough, he blocked the channel. As expected, the exchange consisted of little more than superfluous gossip, with the current area of focus being his partner's more amorous endeavours.

While he had never met this ‘Jack’ individual, the RK900 could only applaud their shrewd decision-making. It was a miracle Detective Reed had been able to secure any form of romantic companion, let alone one who had endured long enough to be considered ‘serious.’

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> He is having a discussion with Officer Miller.

> About the recent dissolving of his domestic partnership.

RK800 glossed over the subject, his aversion to discussing Detective Reed's love life as understandable as it was blatant. Instead, he focused his attention on the previous message:

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Chris? I didn't realise he was back at work.

> Hank showed me some pictures he sent the other day. Damien was eating spaghetti and got it all over his face. It was very cute. :)

Nines could only assume ‘Damien’ was Officer Miller’s child. He did not care to verify.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Here, I can send it to you.

>> IMAGE TRANSFER DENIED <<

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

> I would rather you didn't.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

> Oh, okay…that's fine.

> I understand you're busy. Another time.

> Tell him Connor sends his best wishes!

Nines had no intention of honouring the request.

He was still far too heated, entirely too upset with his partner to focus on anything else. All he could think about now was putting an end to his most recent display of professional negligence.

With a clipped tut, he reached forward to claim the door handle, gripping it tightly. The harsh bang following his exit was enough to startle a nearby patrol officer. She jumped back from the noise, openly squealing. It had also summoned the attention of several other attendees, including Reed and Miller:

Their expressions fell in tandem as the android charged towards them, albeit settling into decidedly different outcomes. Reed's was a level of sullen contempt that almost appeared long-suffering despite their only two-day affiliation.

“Apologies for intruding on such a touching reunion,” the android began, levelling the men, but most aptly his partner, with an accusatory glare. “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from idle chit-chat, Detective Reed. We have a job to complete.”

Despite not being the target of his admonishment, Miller was decidedly more affected. His head perked up, eyes blown like a startled animal. One who had been scoped by a familiar, deadly predator.

Based on the man's prior experiences, Nines supposed this assessment could be considered accurate.

It had been three days into training when he enquired about the empty desk at the end of the precinct—and RK800 informed him accordingly. Officer Miller had been placed on compassionate leave, the consequence of a traumatic incident that occurred a few weeks prior.

The incident in question involved a run-in with a group of Jericho revolutionaries, as well as their leader. A stoic RK200 by the resignation ‘Markus.’

Once Miller's initial shock had waned, he proceeded in a flustered attempt to compose himself. After rubbing his clammy hands across the front of his uniform, he held one out in offering to the android.

"Hey, I, uh, I don't think we've met.” A smile was spread across his lips, so strained it looked as though it had been fastened by safety pins.

Beyond the feigned affability, Nines observed how his body shook in lingering tremours, curling into itself. His clunky work boots sidled back in miniscule steps as though he was subtly attempting to retreat.

"Officer RK900, Serial Number 313 248 317 - 87.” He did not oblige the handshake, seeing no point in physical contact that wasn't desired. "You appear to be nervous, Officer Miller, so I'll keep this brief. There is no need for drawn-out introductions.”

Miller's already deflated posture slumped even further as his arm fell limply to his side. Nines couldn't help but wonder if confirmation of his model number had contributed to the man's unease and whether he was aware of this bias.

RK800 would likely have disputed this if he were present. By all accounts, Miller had forgiven their predecessor for what occurred between them, as had seemingly everyone else. The common consensus was that RK200 had shown mercy.

Nines remained unconvinced, struggling to trust in noble intent given the performative nature of the revolutionary's actions.

It made for a powerful image, after all. A symbol for change, with a gun poised towards an agent of the establishments that sought to oppress them. Had he simply wished to ‘spare’ the human, there would have been no need for this performance. Holding the barrel to his head, pausing for solemn consideration before ultimately deciding to lower it.

His calculations proved accurate, as reports of the incident would sway the minds of many detractors. Generating support and sympathy that otherwise would have never existed.

Perhaps in another reality, where RK200 determined violence would send a stronger message, Miller had not been so fortunate. Reduced to a bloodied husk, his mind splattered across the tarmac…

“Please try to understand

with consideration

for 6o*4m0d£7, we had to 5̷̢̛̣̜̹̤͉̹̻̥̬͗́͊͐̆̍͆̚͝@̶̫͇̣̘͔̯͈̙̤͎͒̑̀̿͑̓͠ķ̵̡̛̗͍̳͉̞̮̺͖̰͍̤͂̅͂́͐̌͘ͅͅ#̶̢̛̼̩̘͍͍̝̭̝͂̇̏̂́́́̄̐͌̒͐̚c̵͚̪̯̻̜̣̳̫͒̀̀̄̍#̸̨̧̫̥͈̬̣̘̲̝͓̰̝͈̀͋̐́́̏̇̆̾̈́̉̇͘͝ŕ̵̢̧͇̯͖̤͉̣̩̝͕̈͜+̴̡̢̧̳͔̰̯̼͛̈̀̄̿̐̉͘͝͝@̶̛̬̖̯͙͍̤̘̙̗̼̤̻͎̪̲̇̓̆͑̀̐̆̇́̈́͑͆͘͝!̷̗̼̱̤̟̫͙͈̰̦͕͍̖̖̎̽̉̃̂͐͑̑̄̈͐́͘̚n̴͍̍̀̃̀̍͊̊̏̐͛̀͋̈́͝͝͝͝ͅ0̷̛͈̪͇̺̞̠̳̦̝̗͇̳͇̀̈́̋̉͝͠͠r̸̨̢̡̯̗̙̰͓͉͖̬͉͖͗͌̈́̏̎#̶̛̛̪̘͇̫̗͎̣̂̅͐̀̉́͛͆̀́̆̓͠͠ć̸̡̣͍̠̦̩̥̣̣ͅ@̷̛̛͔̯̓̃̑͐̈́̽̽ù̶͖͈̦̲͕͔̻̹̥͔̊̉̂̎͑͗͝+̷̨̟͓̐̉́̀̈̀!̵̡̩͓̲͍̯̰͌̉͋̈̌̒̊͋̐̾͐̌̈́̚͜͝0̵̧̪͍̯̝̟͚̹̖͍̹̙͍̫͖̯̈́́̒͌̿͌̿̅̇̔̉͠ū̷̖̳̩$̴̼̝̺̥͚͓̥͚̩͈͖̤̲̈͠—”

> MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED — CRITICAL SOFTWARE MALFUNCTION.

> RECALIBRATING DRIVERS…

Nines was forced to grapple with a wave of mangled cognition as his systems sought to return to a more functional state. The electrical pulses charging his brain proved deeply unpleasant, pushing his head into a sidelong tilt. His discomfort was helped little by Reed, who decided now would be the optimal time to fire off a groaned complaint.

“Could you not have stayed in the car? For five fucking minutes?”

The pulses amplified, radiating his neck, as his focus snapped to the man. His demand seemed rooted in some lingering sense of dominance, the idea that compliance should be expected.

It was a notion that proved woefully outdated and one the android was keen to correct.

“You have no authority over me, Detective,” Nines seethed, the title lingering bitterly on his tongue. “There was no reason to comply with your request.”

The partners found themselves in a stalemate, glaring at each other with mutual contempt, neither willing to budge. Miller had been placed in the middle, appearing intensely uncomfortable. He shuffled on the balls of his feet before making a fumbled attempt to cut through the tension.

"Do you…” The officer paused, his focus darting to Reed as though making a muted plea for escape, “want me to show you to the victim?"

The detective whipped around, moving at such a velocity that he almost generated his own wind current.

You read my mind. Nines, feel free to do your—” He waved his hand in a loose circling gesture, as though searching for the correct words before quickly giving up, “—analysis thingy, or whatever you android detectives like to call it."

The man was gone before Nines could object, pressing his hand to Miller's back and firmly ushering him into the alley. His urgency seemed to suggest that the victim might wander off were they not located immediately.

> Fine.

Secure in his knowledge that a deceased android did not pose an imminent flight risk, Nines determined the next logical step would be to complete a preliminary survey. Reasonably, someone had to, with the lead investigator having just made it clear he had no intention of doing so. It was yet another example of negligence, one he would make sure to include in his end-of-day report.

For now, he resigned himself to relying on existing records provided by first responders. The beginning of these was a witness statement from one of the victim's friends, a woman named Valerie Banks. They had planned to meet at a local coffee shop, but when the android failed to show up—unreachable by telecommunications—Valerie grew concerned.

The café was in a densely packed commercial area, about two blocks from the crime scene. While it could be reached by populated sidewalks, taking a shortcut through the alleyway reduced the overall journey time by approximately six minutes. The victim was well aware of this, using the route frequently.

It was because of this routine that the body was discovered so promptly. Fortunate for the authorities, but less so for the witness, who had been deeply traumatised by what she'd seen.

Bending down to street level, he studied the crumbled asphalt leading into the alley. The foundation had given way to a network of cracks, exposing the soil beneath. Running his fingers along the edge, there were limited signs of recent displacement, save those caused by the action.

Indeed, there was nothing to indicate any recent traffic until he moved further along the line and discovered a faded scuff. Dirt had been dragged from the central path, leading away from it. The print matched the patterned sole of a StrideTech ‘Velocity 2036’ sneaker: Women's Size 6.

The first stages of reconstruction began to commence. A wireframe effigy of the victim took shape at the edge of the sidewalk. It then idled in place, calmly awaiting further instruction.

> MJ100 ENTERED HERE.

He took a soil sample, rolling it between his fingers before placing it on his tongue. Using the garnered analytics, he scanned for other traces. They led him th

#dbh #reed900 #detroit become human #dbh nines #dbh gavin #dbh rk900 #dbh fanfiction #dbh fanfic #gavin reed x rk900 #gavin900 #dbh fic #detroit: become human

19 notes · View notes

verifying-gimmick-posts · 11 months

Note

i recommend checking out @colortracker because it would be funny to see you fight him over colors in his posts

Gimmick Post Verification Status: UNIQUE (see below)

The gimmick blog @colortracker is a human-run blog that examines post contents, most often images but also other forms of visual content such as gifs and videos, and attempts to roughly quantify how many colors are present. According to the blog's pinned post, only the colors red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, and gray are counted. Each post receives a score out of 8, the score representing how many of the aforementioned colors are present in the content.

From observations, this blog seemingly builds controversy, intentionally or otherwise, due to the issue of color identification bias. This is a problem that effects several fields of research, study, software development, and even fashion design and marketing. Generally speaking, "objective" color identifications are bad. Human vision and perception is an extremely complicated topic, and humans don't visually process 100% of the information they are seeing, including color. Color is mostly an approximation, your brain kinda "guesses" what color is the "most" apparent or applicable in any instance. The first half of this video ("What Color Is My Hoodie?") by Tom Scott is a good launching point for understanding color perception.

The reason I am giving all of this context and information is to demonstrate that color is, objectively, subjective. "Objective" colors are less useful in practical fields than the general consensus (source is the same as in the first sourced statement). I cannot use a precise color code identifier to dispute this gimmick blog, because color is an example of qualia. I could easily squash and stretch any image, pick out individual pixels and especially use generation loss and compression (a whole other topic that also relates to this blog) to show "definitive" proof that, on my monitor, the "True Blue" theme of Tumblr contains bright red. Alternatively, I could link to an article from when "The Dress" was a meme.

Controversy relating to this blog's determinations & objective/subjective colors are also influenced by Alexis Spectral Data and the digital imaging concept of color management.

On a less subjective note, this particular post contains a formatting error, where two additional colors, likely yellow and purple, are counted in the score but not listed in the post content.

#rating: unique #colortracker #viewer suggestion

29 notes · View notes

the-hidden-writer · 6 months

Text

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 6

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga finally confronts Alan. Words: 2,524 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 6: Too Soon

“I just don’t understand. It was in my hands, but I could’ve sworn I was reading it for the first time.”

Saga fights the urge to roll her eyes as an FBC medic finishes wrapping her wound. Kesä had done a pretty decent job in Coffee World considering the circumstances, but it does feel better to know it’s been professionally done with less risk of infection. An amputation is the last thing she needs right now.

Right now, she’s itching to speak to Wake. The longer she sits still, the more her thoughts drift to Logan. The more her fury at the writer festers.

She’d described how she’d found Kesä to Estevez while she was being treated (in the morgue of all places). She’d also explained some of her own concerns, such as the mystery of how he ended up in Coffee World, Watery, when she’d last left him in Bright Falls and taken the car herself.

All the more reason she desperately needs to talk to Wake. He was the last person with Casey, and potentially the only person who could explain what’s going on.

Annoyingly, Estevez seems too caught up in her own experience to actually hear what she’s trying to tell her.

“I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m lead here for a reason”, the FBC agent continues. “I study and analyze every detail about a case before heading into the field and I’ve never had memory problems before. I should know this file inside out. I’m more inclined to believe that something paranatural’s at work here.”

“And the Finnish part didn’t tip you off?” Saga asks. She’s grateful that the FBC are taking her seriously though she’s also getting increasingly frustrated by them.

They’re acting too composed and methodical for a situation so dire and terrifying. Sure, Saga’s circles within the FBI are also fairly organized, but the FBC agents are on a whole other level. The way they mill around and make use of the small, rural space available to them is almost dystopian. Part of her wonders if it was a mistake coming here and if she’s ended up confining herself to their agency, when she could be outside trying to fix things and actually be making progress.

Estevez scoffs at her comment.

“Reality’s malleable here. It’s harder to take people for their word.” She frowns. “Then again, we do have Wake in custody…”

Their conversation is interrupted by a shout and a clatter of metal from the other side of the room.

Saga looks over at the source of the noise, where she can just about make out a very uncomfortable-looking Kesä sitting on an examination table, surrounded by four FBC agents holding various items. One has a tablet, another has a clipboard, and another has a stethoscope. The fourth, the only one empty-handed, is recovering from being shoved backward. A reflex hammer lies on the cold floor by their feet.

“Saga!” Kesä cries out, peering between the agents to catch her eye. "Nämä ei helvetti suostu jättämään minua rauhaan! Puhu järkeä niille!"

Estevez approaches them. “What’s the problem?”

The female agent with the clipboard looks at her boss guiltily. “Don’t know, Ma’am. He’s not co-operating.”

“What about the translator?” Estevez demands.

“He’s refusing to type into the software.”

“Can’t you just get a verbal translator?” Saga asks from her side of the morgue, shrugging away the agent tending to her. “It can’t be hard to find one here.”

“I’ll agree with you on it being more convenient,” answers Estevez, “but bringing in external specialists without the Director's approval would be going against protocol.”

“Fuck the protocol!” Saga exclaims, no longer able to suppress her anger. “This is bigger than that! I don’t know how, but I don’t think that just because Wake’s here it means he can’t change reality. If you won’t take my word for it, fine, but I know things are changing and even you’ve acknowledged it. Why the fuck do you have a file on Casey anyway?!”

“That’s cla-”

“Classified, of course.”

While Saga regains her breath, Agent Estevez appears taken aback and the room is silent. Even Kesä looks somewhat shocked by her outburst.

“Just let me talk to Wake.” Saga pleads, more calmly. “I know more about Casey than you do. He’s my partner. Understanding Wake’s part in all this is the only way we can start figuring out how to fix it.”

The last part is a partial lie. It’s true, she needs to understand, but maybe getting the Clicker to him would be a quicker and more efficient fix.

Estevez sighs. “You have a point. Okay, you win, Anderson.”

Saga opens her mouth to respond but Estevez cuts her off. “-But, I’ll accompany you to the cells. Wake’s been agitated and I don’t want you getting hurt. Not to mention that the station’s cameras are video-only and it’s important for us to know what’s going on.”

Shit. If Estevez goes with her, she won’t be able to hand over the Clicker in secret. She can’t risk them taking it away from her.

“You really think he’ll talk to the agents that locked him up the first chance they got?” Saga argues, hoping that she’s passing off as convincing. “I’m FBI, I know how to handle an interrogation. I’ll pass on anything he tells me. For what it’s worth, you have my word.”

A tense minute of contemplation, then: “...Fine. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

Saga lets out a small sigh of relief. “Thanks, Agent.”

She’d really thought that she’d have to fight harder for her case. Still, she isn’t complaining that she’s getting her way.

“I don’t feel good about this at all,” says Estevez, moving toward the exit and beckoning for Saga to follow. “But we really don’t have much of a choice.”

As Saga stands, Kesä speaks up. "Mitä nyt? Mihin olet menossa?"

“We’ll work on getting a translator in the meantime.” Estevez remarks, already walking through the corridor toward the staircase leading up.

Saga hesitates in the doorway. Aleksi’s face is full of confusion, but also holds a twinge of sadness. Maybe even betrayal. They stare at each other for a moment, locked in another exchange via glances.

Saga is the one to break away, guiltily shooting him a reassuring smile before turning to follow Estevez.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

Saga follows Estevez out of the morgue and back into the station itself. A wave of unease washes over her. She’s getting her way, but something about the situation leaves her feeling unnerved. She feels weirdly unprepared, like she’s missing something important and shouldn’t see Wake without it.

But she has the Clicker. That’s the main thing she needs, right? She tries to shake the feeling away and focus on the present.

How should she approach the situation with Wake? She wants to hold him accountable for his actions- hell, she wants to kill him for what he’s done to Logan, but she knows that she can’t. She could just give him the Clicker without saying a word.

She won’t do that, though. She needs answers. She needs to hear him acknowledge what he did.

They reach the cell block door and Estevez pulls out a keycard. Before she gets the chance to use it, one of the officers approaches her.

“Uh, Ma’am? We might have a-”

“Give me a second, Young.” Estevez interrupts. “Let me just let Agent Anderson in.”

The door is unlocked and the light above the door turns green.

“I’ll lock this behind you for safety reasons”, explains Estevez. “Just knock four times when you’re ready to come out. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Saga does. She thinks. “I do. Thanks, Estevez.”

Estevez nods and turns to address the anxious officer to the side.

Saga opens the door.

She walks in. The door closes behind her and green turns to red.

“Saga!”

The voice that greets her isn’t Wake’s, but Ilmo’s. She spots him in the cell closest to her and he stands up when she enters. In the midst of dealing with Kesä, Ilmo’s involvement had slipped her mind. The man looks disheveled and almost animalistic- a far cry from the friendly and confident persona she was used to seeing. Ilmo steps right up to the bars of the cage to face her, practically snarling. “Fucking FBI, FBC, you government fucks all fucking this up for us! Where the fuck is my brother?!”

That uneasy feeling settles over Saga again. Instinctively, she looks over to the adjacent cell to Ilmo’s. The cell is empty.

When she doesn’t reply, Ilmo bangs his fist against the metal bar. “What the fuck have you done to him?!”

“I…” Saga doesn’t know what to say. Her mind replays the events of the hour since they’d arrived at the station. She doesn’t remember seeing or even hearing any mention of Jaakko Koskela. “Ilmo, Jaakko isn’t here.”

“Bullshit!” Ilmo spits. “You fuckers have done something. Something’s wrong with him, and you-”

“How do you know?” Saga interjects.

“I just know!” Ilmo responds. It sounds more like a childish whine. Saga picks up on an element of desperation in his posture and voice, and suddenly something clicks. He sounds just like how she feels on the inside, desperate to get Logan back and to help Casey. He’s worried for his twin, but he’s locked up and helpless. She can’t help but sympathize with him.

She goes to respond, to inquire more about Jaakko’s whereabouts, when another voice speaks up from a cell further down.

“Saga? Is that you?”

Wake.

Her feet start to carry her toward his cell.

“No, don’t fucking talk to him, Saga.” Ilmo says behind her. “He’s a fucking monster! You don’t know what you’re dealing with, let me out!”

Saga ignores him.

Like Ilmo, Alan Wake stands at the edge of his cell to face her, except he’s gripping the bars so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. If she thought Ilmo looked animalistic, Wake is that turned up to eleven. He wears jeans, a bloodied white tee, and an unhinged expression.

“Do you have it?” he asks.

Saga sees red.

“You wrote Logan into the story,” she says coolly. “You told me yourself, from the Dark Place.”

Wake doesn’t react to her words, and instead carries on with his crazy spiel. “Listen! I think something’s wrong. Something- something’s off. The balance is… Scratch is-”

“My daughter is dead because of you! She’s a child.” Saga hisses. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Alan shakes his head. “I’m trying to fix this. I will fix this, I’ll save everyone, I just need to know what’s happening. There’s something different, just- Just give me the Clicker. I’ll fix everything. We’re running out of time.”

Saga fights the urge to slap the man.

“And Casey?” she asks. “You change his memories to what? Tear us apart? You already ruined his life with your writing, and you just had to do it again. You are one selfish fuck.”

Alan groans, frustrated. “No, I just…”

He trails off. His grip on the iron bars loosens. “I…”

He takes a step back. His strained expression morphs into one of confusion.

“...What?”

“Don’t play dumb. You admitted to using my family as part of your sick story. Well, you’ve gone miles over the goddamn line. How did you get him to Watery?”

Alan lets out a sound of disbelief. “What are you- What was that about memories? I don’t think I…”

“And why Finnish?” Saga snaps. “You twisted so much of him for no reason, even his name. How does this help anything?”

“Saga.” Alan says loudly, breaking her out of her rant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Saga waits for the prickling in her skin or the flash in her mind or any indication that he might be lying.

When none comes, she is taken aback. “What?”

“I didn’t do anything to Casey.” Wake states. He sounds genuine. Saga hates that. “The lodge was attacked by cultists and he ran outside, then Scratch and the Taken showed up. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Casey showed up at Coffee World half-naked and talking in Finnish. He didn’t know where he was and he doesn’t know me at all. Are you sure you don’t know anything about that?”

Saga’s grasping at straws. Wake has to be the one responsible, because if he isn’t… What then?

Alan is silent for a moment, his face blank. “No… no, I don’t. I’m trying to remember… you said Finnish, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Ilmo cuts in, sounding very concerned. “Saga? What’s going on?”

“Yes, Finnish.” Saga looks at Ilmo, responding to Alan. With Alan claiming to know nothing, she’s willing to take answers from anyone. She’s starting to feel very, very scared for her partner.

“Give me the Clicker.” Alan says firmly, extending a hand through the bars. “It doesn’t matter what’s been happening on the outside, I’ll fix it all. Just give it to me.”

Ilmo bangs on the bars again. “Don’t fucking give it to him!”

Saga feels conflicted. On one hand, she’d worked so hard to get the Clicker. She’d risked her life, even, and it was all for the sake of saving Logan. As far as she knows, giving Wake the Clicker is the only way of getting her daughter back.

The new question that makes her hesitate is: does that extend to Casey?

Wake admitted to using Logan. She heard him say so himself, and she resents him for it. But he’s adamant in his stance that he didn’t use Casey in the same way. As much as Saga wants to blame it on him and believe he’s lying, there are too many facts that don’t add up. How would the addition of ‘Aleksi Kesä’ help the horror story? It only causes a delay, if anything. It’s a distraction and it’s unlike any of the other changes Wake has been making.

So if he has no idea, how will he be able to fix him? By handing over the Clicker, will she save Logan but doom Casey?

Even though her daughter comes first, she can’t bring herself to do that to her partner. She needs more information to get a better understanding of the situation.

“I don’t have it.” She lies.

“Thank God.” She hears Ilmo mumble.

Both of them are startled when Alan suddenly violently slams the bars of his own cell. “I knew something was different. Fuck!”

He pulls back, his fists clenched.

Saga realizes that with this lie, she needs a new plan ASAP.

Wake seems to have a similar thought process because he turns back around with wide, frantic eyes. “Saga, listen to me, you need to-”

He is cut off by all the overhead lights blacking out at once, leaving the three of them in total darkness.

Alan and Ilmo curse simultaneously.

Gunshots emanate from the door leading to the station, followed by shouts, followed by screams. Saga rushes over and tries to open it. It’s still locked.

Fuck. Not again.

Finnish translations:

"Nämä ei helvetti suostu jättämään minua rauhaan!" = "These people won't leave me the fuck alone!"

"Puhu järkeä niille!" = "Talk sense into them!"

"Mitä nyt? Mihin olet menossa?" = "What now? Where are you going?"

Thanks for reading! I hope you'll stick with me for the ride...

#alan wake 2 #alan wake 2 spoilers #fanfic #saga anderson #kiran estevez #alan wake #alex casey #aleksi kesä #ilmo koskela #jaakko koskela #fbc #federal bureau of control #a piece of true fiction

8 notes · View notes

markerspro · 2 years

Text

MarkersPro - Course Management System - Find all you need to know

MarkersPro makes course management a breeze – it automates manual processes and makes everyday tasks easy. Manage your short course sales, attendees, presenters, venues and reporting all from one place.

Schedule a Demo

Visit https://www.markerspro.in/ModuleMenu/Course

#Course Management #Course Module #online course management system #online course and examination management system #online course management software

0 notes

goombasa · 8 months

Text

I Read Scott McCloud's Comics Trilogy Recenlty

So yeah, for anyone who doesn't know, Scott McCloud is a pretty big deal in the comics scene, one of the guys who helped to draft up the Creator's Bill of Rights, and has done a lot of major work independently and at major publishers, and near as I can tell, one of the first pretty big creators to actively campaign for the creativity of things like Webcomics. But he's probably most well known nowadays for his non-fiction educational work mostly centered around comic books.

And I finally bought and read all three of them. The ‘Comics Trilogy’ as I've taken to calling cosists of:

Understanding Comics (1993)

Reinventing Comics (2000)

Making Comics (2006)

And this trilogy is incredibly dense with information about the medium, where it was at, and where it was going. In fact, while there are several degrees of separation between each book (about 6-7 years or so), it is very impressive just how fresh and relevant almost all of the information in this trilogy manages to be. Yes, they do show their age in some ways; both Reinventing Comics and Making Comics refer to both the internet and things like drawing tablets as though they were still pretty new and unexplored technology. However, all three of them contain some very astute observations about where Comics as a medium is going and it's really fascinating to see how close to the bull's eye Mr. McCloud was on so many counts.

Discounting that though, these are just interesting to read because all three of them ask you to really examine WHY comic books as a medium work. Understanding Comics for example, serves as a very concise history of comics as a whole and tries to put a decent definition on what qualifies as being a comic (a task that it doesn't entirely succeed at, by Scott's own examination, but it very much gets you thinking on words and pictures, what separates them and how they can be intertwined into a story.

Reinventing comics is more about the potential of the medium and I'll admit, its more philosophical tone on the potential of comics was a bit much for me. I had trouble processing and digesting everything in this book compared to Understanding or Making. I certainly understood what it was going for, and again, this book, out of all three, is fascinating to read with about twenty years of hindsight, as Scott manages to bang-on predicted most of the trends that would come into the medium down the line. Just probably not in the ways he was expecting them to. It's still a very interesting read, but I'll admit, I had a lot more trouble following it than I did the other two books and I had to go back and reread a few sections to full feel like I was grasping the full meaning on a lot of what was said, but it was still a very interesting read.

The third in the series, Making Comics is probably the most straightforward, but this isn't like an online tutorial. Instead it's more like a lengthy instruction manual presenting you with the tools and ideas that can be used to build a comic beyond your skill as an artist. How to letter, how to frame a shot, when you should use captions or sound effects or word balloons. It gives a very detailed overview of everything you'd need to know in order to make your own comics from a practical standpoint. It makes some suggestions on the tools or software to use, but for the most part, it's more about giving you a proper overview of the craft rather than a tutorial for specific tools or software. That's easy enough to find elsewhere on the internet.

I think the reason these books work so well is the way they are presented; They are comic books. They aren't just books that talk about comics, they are COMICS that talk about comics. This isn't even the first time that I've seen this done. Back when I was in middle and high school, I did have a couple of classes that dabbled in using comics instead of traditional text books to introduce their subject matter. In particular, I was introduced to Larry Gonick's books like “The Cartoon History of the Universe” and “The Cartoon Guide to Genetics.” These books are a bit different than that, as yes, they are specifically educational, but they focus specifically on the medium that they are a part of, and I think that does a lot to convey Scott's arguments about just how far the medium can go, and helps to highlight everything that he's talking about with actual real time examples. That's not to downplay Mr. Gonick's contributions to cartooning and comic books as a potential tool for learning and education of course, he's written a LOT of these books over a multitude of different subjects, but one does have to admit, he is very much an exception rather than the standard.

(for an added recommendation, I'd recommend Larry Gonick's “Hypercapitalism” as well, really worth a read on its own)

These books manage to feel timeless in their subject matter and the way that they talk about the medium. Sadly, Comics as a whole today are still struggling to reach a sort of mainstream acceptance as a respectable medium, and yes, we do have big blockbusters for comic characters nowadays, but really, how many people who watch those movies read the comics those stories are based on? And for those that do read the comics, how many books outside of superhero books published by the Big Two do they read? The comics trilogy lays down the ideas of how the medium could potentially be elevated, and while that hasn't happened yet, I am hopeful for the future. If you have never read these before, and you have any interest in comics as a medium, especially what you can find beyond the standard of a super hero comic, I would really recommend this trilogy. Last I checked, I cannot find them being sold as a set anywhere, but all three of them can be found used for pretty cheap. Heck, even brand new, they don't typically go over $15, and I'd say they're worth every penny. Note that this is referring to paperback copies of the books. There are some hardcover versions floating around out there, but those are much harder to find, and consequently are a lot more expensive, at least for Understanding Comics.

#Good Nonfiction #Interesting Comic Book Talk #Scott McCloud #Understanding/Reinventing/Making Comics #If y'all like comics #Y'all should read these

10 notes · View notes