#Face Mask Detection Market

[oliviadlima]

Face Mask Detection Market Growing at Exponential CAGR by 2030

According to a recent report published by Allied Market Research, titled, Global Face Mask Detection Market “Component, Application and Technology: Global Opportunity Analysis and Industry Forecast, 2021–2030,” The face mask detection market size was valued at $1.8 billion in 2020, and is projected to reach $4.1 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 8.1% from 2021 to 2030.

The COVID-19 pandemic has heightened global attention to healthcare and public safety standards designed to stop (or at least slow) the spread of the coronavirus. Many precautionary safety measures were implemented across the world, ranging from sanitization of public spaces/areas to strict home quarantine for individuals. For most circumstances, wearing a face mask was proven to be one of the most efficient strategies to prevent the transmission of the SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus. This prompted local governments and authorities in many countries to impose stringent face mask-wearing rules and regulations, and as face mask detection systems helped enforce these face masks which aided the growth of the face mask detection market analysis the time.

In 2020, the global face mask detection market share was dominated by the hardware, and is expected to maintain its dominance in the upcoming years. The surge in need of hardware devices for surveillance and safety and the need of hardware devices due to government guidelines across various sectors is driving the growth of the hardware component for face mask detection market. Moreover, the COVID pandemic across the globe and competition among many SME’s is providing opportunities for face mask detection industry.

Within the market, software segment is estimated to emerge as fastest growing segment, The rapid increase in the volume of security and verticals data and the ever-increasing automation of business processes across many end-to-end industries such as retail, manufacturing, health care, and transportation are expected to further the demand for face mask detection market size in the forecast period.

Post COVID-19, the size of the Global Face Mask Detection Market is estimated to be $1.8 billion in 2020, and face mask detection market forecast to reach $4.1 billion by 2030.

The COVID-19 pandemic triggered a recession period for many business sectors, forcing brick and mortar stores all over the world to change the way they used to operate their business. Once the lockdown protocols were eased by state governments, heavy social distancing and isolation norms were implemented (often enforced by local government authorities) for people stepping outside their homes during the pandemic, face masks and temperature checks for consumers were implemented outside malls and shopping complexes. Moreover, businesses with employees returning to the office were instructed to enforce face masks, proper sanitation, and social distancing rules inside the office buildings as well. These trends helped the face mask detection solutions market in the post-lockdown period.

Inquiry Before Buying: https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/purchase-enquiry/14776

Key Findings Of The Study

By component, in 2020 the hardware is estimated to be the major shareholder. However, software is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

On the basis of technology, the optical segment accounted for the highest revenue in 2020, however, the e-beam segment is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

On the basis of application, the hospital segment accounted for the highest revenue in 2020, however, the airports segment is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

Region wise, the network security market was dominated by North America. However, Asia-Pacific is expected to witness significant growth in the upcoming years.

Some of the key companies operating in the face mask detection industry are Aerialtronics, Asura Technologies, Canaan Inc., InData Labs, LeewayHertz , Microsoft Corporation, Mobisoft Infotech LLC, NEC Corporation, Sightcorp, Trident Information Systems Pvt. Ltd.

About Us: Allied Market Research (AMR) is a full-service market research and business-consulting wing of Allied Analytics LLP based in Portland, Oregon. Allied Market Research provides global enterprises as well as medium and small businesses with unmatched quality of “Market Research Reports Insights” and “Business Intelligence Solutions.” AMR has a targeted view to provide business insights and consulting to assist its clients to make strategic business decisions and achieve sustainable growth in their respective market domain.

[fatkish]

Of course, you can put a spin on my cat quirk user ♡

(Alright, just wanted to make sure.)

(Trigger warning: human and animal trafficking mentioned, also mentions of drugging someone)

Aizawa x Jaguar Reader

(The reader in this story is an actual Jaguar with a quirk that allows them to transform into a human)

Reader is a Jaguar who was naturally born with a human transformation quirk. They grew up in the Amazon jungle with their mother who was a normal Jaguar. The reader learned to hunt and was taught everything they needed in order to be a successful apex predator by their mother

The reader has human level intelligence due to their quirk.

One day, villains from Brazil found out about the reader. They eventually tranquillized and captured the reader, smuggling them into Japan were the villains planned to sell the reader in a black market auction

When the reader had woken up halfway through the shipping to Japan, they realized that their best chance of survival was to wait for the villains to let their guard down, then the reader could have a better chance of escaping. When the smugglers realized that the reader was awake they drugged them again, putting the reader back to sleep

Meanwhile in Japan, Detective Tsukauchi and the police had been tracking two of the main villains in charge of the auctions and running them. The police were planning a raid on the building the night of the auction. The people running it were notorious for human trafficking, the sale and trafficking of parts of or whole endangered animal species, kidnapping, etc.

Detective Tsukauchi was the lead investigator and asked Aizawa as well as Midnight to help in the raid. Midnight’s primary role was to help subdue the criminals as well as protect the heroes and police from any dangerous animals that might be found

On the night of the auction the reader wakes up inside a metal cage with a shock collar on their neck. They’re hidden beneath the stage in the storage area, surrounded by various cages with other humans and some animals

The humans all seemed to be young and mostly female, the reader could sense the fear that belonged to the humans in the cages. The humans also were wearing the strange collar that was around their own neck

The humans outside the cages all had white masks covering their faces. One of these people was walking around going to each cage and putting their hands on the humans heads. Once the person had come to them the reader snarled at them but was rewarded with a powerful shock running through their body.

The human placed their hands an the reader’s head, after feeling a weird tingling sensation, the human retracted their hands. The human then told the reader that they had better do whatever they are told, if they don’t listen, they will be shocked. With the effects of the drugs still wearing off, the reader didn’t question how they could suddenly understand what the human’s language.

Suddenly a loud voice is heard from above as the auction begins. After a few minutes, cages are wheeled over to a platform that lifts things onto the stage through the floor.

After the last cage before them is brought up, the human from earlier commands the reader to change into their human form. Not listening to the commands, the reader is shocked again when the human presses a rectangular object.

After that the reader transforms and a hook attached to a long pole is connected to their collar as they are led onto the lift

Outside the heroes and police are setting up and getting into position to start the raid. All entrances and exits have been surrounded. Once Tsukauchi has made sure everything and everyone was in place and ready, he gave the order to cut the buildings power supply thus signaling the start of the raid

As the heroes begin to enter the building and start taking out the buyers, auctioneers and other participants, the reader, having been sold to a wealthy businessman with a cat-girl fetish, is being led to one of the back rooms when the power goes out

Since the system that was controlling the collars was being powered by the building’s electrical system, once the power was shut off, the collars unlocked and deactivated

Realizing that this is their best chance at escaping, the reader transforms into their original form and attacks the nearest person in a mask. Using their natural predatory night vision, as well as their hunting skills, the reader slinks through the hall avoiding as many people as possible using the darkness to their advantage

After passing by a hall filled with a purple fog, the reader turns the corner and finds themselves back at the stage where a human with strange glowing red eyes protected by some strange yellow covering, is fighting the humans in white masks

This human had some strange long grey appendage? No, tool? They were using it to capture the humans and fight them. This human also smelled different than the humans in masks

Distracted by their predatory analyzation of the human, they didn’t notice that the human had defeated all of the other humans present. When the human suddenly turned their attention and focus onto them.

The human stared at the reader for a moment before removing the yellow eye coverings. Quickly retrieving something from its waist, the human tilted their head back, dropping some kind of liquid into its eyes.

The human, after a few blinks, stares the reader in the eyes as the human’s mane raises and its eyes glow red. Seeing this as some kind of human threatening display, the reader snarls as they bear their fangs and crouch into position to pounce onto the human if necessary

After a few seconds the human lowered its mane as its eyes stopped glowing. The human raised its front paw and told the reader that they are not a threat and that they are not going to hurt them. The human didn’t seem to have any sort of fear and was obviously not a prey but they were still wary of the reader.

Suddenly another human called out and was running up behind the human, before either human could react, the reader pounced onto the new human, believing them to be a threat. Sinking their claws into the human’s shoulders and about to go for the head, Aizawa shouts no, in distress.

Realizing that the human was upset by them attacking the other human, the reader turns to look at Aizawa as they get off of the police officer.

After checking on the officer’s condition and making sure they were okay, Aizawa turns to the reader after realizing that they stopped their attack after he told them to

Carefully approaching the reader, Aizawa asks them if they can understand what he’s saying and to lift their front paw if they can. The reader lifts their paw and afterwards slowly approaches Aizawa. Before the reader can get to close a purple fog surrounds them as a loud sound is made as they feel a sharp pain in their hind leg. Before they can turn and attack the human the reader falls asleep

After dealing with the clean up and arresting the criminals, Tsukauchi approaches Aizawa with a file containing a list of the items being sold. When looking at the file, Tsukauchi points out the reader’s information.

When Aizawa confirms that the listed information is true, that being that the reader is actually an animal with a quirk, Aizawa asks Tsukauchi what would be done with the reader.

Tsukauchi tells him that there really isn’t much he can do about what would happen to the reader, but that the reader would either be handed over to scientists or placed in a zoo or research sanctuary.

Aizawa decides that the reader would probably be subjected to experiments and would be forced to undergo extensive and invasive tests, he calls Nedzu and tells him about the reader

When the reader wakes up, they are laying on a pile of blankets with bandages wrapped around the top of their left hind leg. Looking around they are met by a white rodent.

The rodent introduces himself as Nedzu, he explains to the reader what happened and what their current situation is. He explains that humans are not used to seeing animals with abilities like theirs. He tells the reader that humans are likely to experiment on animals like them since they are different.

Nedzu tells them that since they are capable of understanding humans, that the reader’s best course of action is to learn to live like a human and understand human society. He tells the reader that he can help them and give them the opportunity to become what humans call a hero

After much discussion mainly on Nedzu’s part, the reader agrees to live at UA. Aizawa, being the one who found them, is put in charge of the reader and is made their handler/guardian

Aizawa teaches the reader what they need to know and how society works. While Aizawa teaches, the reader either sleeps or patrols the grounds. At night, when Aizawa is on patrol, the reader follows him as his sidekick.

Power loader creates a special suit for the reader to wear made of the reader’s own fur, that way they are not naked when they transform. The reader is officially a member of the Aizawa family

Hope you enjoyed this

[aghostiewitdahoodie]

⟣ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

⟣ Warnings: None

⟣ This is my work, my writing. Do not steal or repost elsewhere.

Ghost is not one to manifest endearment- an imperishable wall he has built throughout the years of labour and untold agonies. An astonishing discovery for others; you are the complete opposite of the man they had known as a bearer of a cold heart.

A facade they are acquainted with, as behind closed doors, when the exhaustion is stripped away and the notorious mask is off, is Simon, your Simon.

Still, you have to thread carefully; there were times, and certainly there will be times when it is difficult. The gnawing hollowness you tolerate when he is deployed has remained on the far end of your tongue until today.

Simon expected the tender engulfment of your embrace when he arrived; however, he was greeted with the bedroom door slammed shut. His duffel bag is to be released from the unforgiving grip of his gnarled hand as he unveils the oranges he bought from the market before heading to your shared home. The favourite of yours and the resentment of his.

There you lie in the comfort of your bed, sulking with a heavy heart, unknowing of your lover’s presence in the room. A familiar scent is detected in the air, which causes you to face your surroundings. “How many more oranges can you peel, Simon?” You questioned, aware of his hatred of citrus. Placing a peeled fruit on a bowl, his sunburned irises gaze at you. “How many would it take for you to forgive me?”

[nobody-nexus]

TADC Obsession AU

So yes I finally made this a whole ass AU- which is why I haven't posted art for a hot second. The idea of this honestly kinda fucked up AU is that Ragatha is the protagonist HOWEVER we see the story through the eyes of Pomni (aka it's a Second POV)

Let's meet the gang ^^

Amanda, or Ragatha, is a seamstress who has decided to move back into town in order to start anew with her dress making business. She was actually a little surprised to see a new face within the town

Eliza, or Pomni, is the new butcher for the town. Well 'new' for Amanda. In reality, she's been there for a few years now. And seeing that seamstress.... it was love at first sight for the deranged woman

Jackson, or Jax, is the younger brother of Amanda and a complete loser. He can't seem to keep a job to save his life and lives in a small but cheap ass apartment. Amanda is... slightly disappointed in him

Grace, or Gangle, is a librarian for the town. She's a bit of a germaphobe due to being a sickly kid, but thankfully she keeps gloves and face masks in her library as well as medkits all about

Zoe, or Zooble, is the owner of the tattoo parlor in the town. They were the first to be suspicious of Pomni, and therefore always warns people not to trust her. But, that won't stop everyone from doing so

Cesar, or Kinger, is a sad soul. Only leaving his house for work and to go shopping, he's hardly seen out of his house. Ever since Quinn, his wife, had gone missing- he's not had the best time recovering

Caine is the CEO of one of the most well-known meat production sites in the United States. He stays in the small town, finding it very quant, and it had the benefit of having his favorite customer!

Marina, or Moon, is Caine's wife and a detective for the local police force. Although she's incredible at her job, she seems to have run into a road block with a list of seemingly unrelated murders....

Summer, or Sun, is the older sister of Marina and a schoolteacher for the town. She's a kind soul who is trying to make sure no one worries, but isn't afraid to be blunt with others. In the middle of the madness

Bubble is, to put it simply, Caine and Marina's pet dog. Nothing more, nothing less (like actually I just wanted to draw Bubble as a dog)

Gabriella, or The Gloink Queen, is the manager of a local strip club known as 'The Gloink Cave'. Despite her business, and a very commanding personality, she's seen as a potential suspect for it all

Ivy, or The Influencer, is the local hermit of the town. Hardly leaves her apartment and is a local dark web and black-market salesman! She's a criminal with a fanbase. And Amanda's deranged cousin

I have a lot of this AU, and it's been infecting my brain as of recent, so much so that... well, I made reference sheets for ALL of the characters. Hope you like it! If you have any questions, my inbox is nice and open! So, ask away

[blueikeproductions]

They finally posted a trailer and poster for the next batch of EarthSpark. And it’s described as S3, though experience with Netflix makes me think this is just the remainder of S2… Still according to the marketing, fans finally got a third season, so that counts for something. It’s only roughly 7 episodes, but G1’s final fourth season was a three part finale, so a very short season isn’t unheard of.

This poster is a lot better than the past main posters they’ve used over and over.

These are better also, but they don’t get used much.

But after RotB & TFONE, I think we can all agree decent advertising isn’t modern Hasbro & Paramount’s strong suit.

As for the trailer itself, it continues a trend I’ve noticed where most EarthSpark ancillary stuff tends to down play the Terrans. Twitch appears for a split second and Thrash appears in a gag where he gets shot… continuing his “just kinda there” vibe.

The trailer primarily focuses on the traditional Autobot & Decepticon conflict, with a big focus put on Prowl, the newest and seemingly only Transformer added to the cast so far.

A news article further describes Prowl as an “old world” Autobot detective who trusts the hard facts & always finds the truth. He is immediately distrustful of Optimus’ allies, so presumably that includes the Maltos, Terrans and naturally Megatron. It’s interesting how he’s specifically described as a detective, perhaps that’s to avoid ACAB allegations I could see the old writers attempt through him….

Prowl’s G1 profiles cast him as a by the books, semi prickly, military strategist. This doesn’t really get explored in the old cartoon, and while it was touched on briefly in Marvel, IDW went hog wild with it, casting its Prowl as a corrupt cop antagonist towards the end of the run. IDW2 cast him as more of a detective pre-war though, possibly where EarthSpark borrowed it from, and while he was still a hard-aft, he had a soft spot for his pet dinosaur-alien.

The main villains of the season, unsurprisingly, are the Quintessons. Their leader is a female Judge, who the blurb declares it “is her birthright to possess the power of the Emberstone. She’s wise, dangerous, and her ego is so large that it’s no wonder she has five heads”.

What exactly constitutes gender among the Quints has never really been defined before.

It might be safe to say as far as the G1 cartoon is concerned, they’re an all male race.

WFC & CV attempted to insert female gender among the Judges, having some of the masks speak in a female voice.

That adds another oddity to Judge biology, as the G1 cartoon or Marvel UK comics never stated the other faces being separate personalities, instead other media describes them as different emotional states.

Alpha Q in Superlink did have multiple personalities based on which mask was displayed, each one squabbling/talking amongst themselves.

Presumably WFC/CV borrowed from Alpha Q, but the ES Quintesson Judge might be operating on G1 logic, each mask being a single (female) gender, as she has a female voice actor only.

The other big G1 thing the trailer shows is the Hate Plague. The leaked synopsis already revealed it, but like G1, those infected with the plague glow an intense red.

Once infected, they turn incredibly violent and try to kill each other. Despite the G1 show’s violence, nobody actually died ironically, at least it was never confirmed. The synopsis implies the Quintessons unleashed the Hate Plague on the Transformers, and while the 80’s Quints were instead among the victims of the outbreak, they do have a vague connection to it.

The oldest known leader within the Matrix, only known as “It”, resembles a Quintesson, with Japanese media confirming that’s what they are. Optimus Prime asks this ancient Quintesson how to combat the Hate Plague, with It saying the Plague couldn’t be outright destroyed but contained, where a wise man trapped the spores in a star. The spores nevertheless has a weakness to pure wisdom, so Optimus unleashes the power of the Matrix and uses its eons long store of wisdom to eradicate the virus once and for all… Until it briefly returns in Beast Machines.

As mentioned before, the Hate Plague isn’t exactly a popular concept cartoons like to go back to. Comics don’t like using it typically either, so its inclusion here is both unique but also a little… peculiar. I’m leaning towards it being a vague, modern topical metaphor for something, as an infected Megatron is fighting Optimus in particular. Probably some hogwash about Megatron succumbing to his biases and own hatred, but we’ll see soon enough.

Perhaps the most utterly bizarre detail is the blurb seemingly confirming the return of Spitfire and Aftermath.

How…?

Starscream yanked out their Allspar-er-Emberstone Shards, and the rock itself is dust. You can’t get any deader than that.

The only thing I can guess, is similar to Sari’s key, the Sleeves are the repository of the Emberstone’s life giving energies (the sleeves do just about anything else now so why not), and the Malto kids are incentivized to revive the two Decepticon Terrans for some reason.

MetroTitans in IDW also can grant life and that was carried over to Prime Wars, so it’s possible Terratronus can grant life too, and she restores the Terracons.

Worst case scenario is the two hellions are back up and running like nothing happened, and their death is never addressed again.

Crap writing if so, but the previous two scenarios would be preferable.

Not much longer to wait now. This might be the final batch, as the Quintessons make sense as the final end goal in the struggle over the Emberstone. The show has never been super committed to showing what’s going on Cybertron that whatever Prowl and Cosmos have to add to the matter is probably the best we’ll get. Plus the Terrans don’t have much incentive or interest to even go to Cybertron anyway; Alex would get more out of going there than his kids. Only thing I could guess is the Quints took over Cybertron off screen and that loosely ties into the Judge’s role on Earth, but eh. We’ll see.

[elderflowergin]

blood free v secret forest, a quick and dirty comparison:-

As someone who fell for Kdrama through Stranger, i loved it because it appeared seamless, grounded and weaved several systems and levels of privilege very elegantly. Most of all it seemed morally urgent, even if it was at its core a detective mystery. (Which, to be fair, Blood Free is as well.)

Secret Forest’s first success was that it held nuance for everyone in the middle of the road; LSY afforded so much thoughtful shading to those men. I often think they will never look as beautiful as they do on SF, and that’s only partly because of whoever did the lighting etc, but they’re not Kdrama glossy perfect; they’re real people trying to reckon with themselves and the moral calculus they have agreed to, and their dignity comes from the reckoning. Lee Chang-joon, Kang Won-chul, Lee Yeon-jae, even Seo Dong-jae for that matter, all have that advantage. LSY managed this for Jung Sung-il in the scant few minutes of screen time he had.

The second success was Cho Seung-woo and Bae Doona. If Secret Forest was a universe they were its gravitational field; it was their fierce sense of honour and morality that drives both seasons. And their moral decency is hard-won; it is tested constantly, and it’s burnished at each opportunity, which is why they are respected. It is a dream that people like that can influence or impact those around them, but you don’t question that they do, by the end of each season, and that’s the victory of writing, casting and the charisma of both leads.

That’s why that funeral scene in season 1 is so important (to me); it shows the gravity shifting. The prosecutors rely on their forest of secrets to keep the centre together, but Hwang Si-mok demonstrates how untenable this has become, how the roots must be pulled out so the weeds die; so new healthy things can grow. The chaebols are at the periphery, and they continue to be there because, most audaciously of all, they don’t matter if enough people shift their moral calculus. I think this gravitational pull happens to Lee Chang-joon in season 1 thanks to Hwang Si-mok and it happens to Choi Bit in season 2 thanks to Han Yeo-jin. They are easily some of the most powerful parts of the show.

On the other hand, we have Blood Free. I’m not sure who the moral gravitational field of this show is meant to be. Maybe it’s Yun Ja-yu and/or Woo Chae-woon. Maybe it’s Lee Mu-saeng. Maybe it’s about the ethical dilemma of experimentation and whether that’s a worthwhile price to pay for the scientific advancements in cultured meat and seafood. Perhaps we need more time to really see the middle of the road characters, but four episodes in there’s not much to go on: there’s Lee Mu-saeng, there’s Queen Dowager as a VP, here’s Jeon Seok-ho. There are three chaebols, all of whom seem like one-note characters to me. (Why ask a talented sketch artist to produce cartoons like these? Unless they’re not, but nothing seems to suggest otherwise.)

The most interesting insight from episode 4 was about Yun Jayu - when offered 72 trillion won for her company, she actually considers it because it means she doesn’t have to face investors and can focus on research. She has influence and money but these are means to an end, for her. I wish we could see more of that, and not necessarily through exposition alone.

When she gives deft, cool answers to reporters, did that come naturally to her or did she work at it? Is she the face of the company because she hated it a little less than Lee Mu-saeng did? If so, why? What comparative advantage did they determine she had? When she wears Chanel tweed skirts and smiles her way through presentations, is that a natural extension of her work or is that a mask she wears? Give me process, guys! Give us the backstory, the way the markets work, the environment for cutting-edge bio research in Korea, the reaction of Big Meat, the interplay of new rich and old rich, some indication of her actual influence (which must be considerably more than what we see on the show, although what little we see, while uncomfortable, is frankly not that inconceivable in a world where you’re constantly connected.) I am so interested in her, and yet I feel I am made to watch the story of her reacting to chaebols and to the mystery of corporate sabotage rather than her being the fulcrum of her own universe. And at no point does the mystery seem morally urgent to me, and it’s because 1) why does it matter if all this is is a giant M&A negotiation 2) why should we care if it doesn’t feel real to us? So what if there’s sabotage? Why on earth isn’t this company guarded like fucking Fort Knox? Why is this company ostensibly so influential, so powerful and yet capable of unusually amateurish errors that are the centre of the show so far and not on the periphery of it? Where is the moral quandary that is meant to grab us by the throat?

Is it a question of the writing? Have her interests shifted and did she want to do a show without having to do too much character work? If anyone has earned a vibes-only moment it’s Lee Soo-yeon, and I respect that for her. I hope the direction isn’t stifling the writing, because that means there is an arresting, politically trenchant drama underneath this dry procedural, and that’s upsetting to consider. We still have a ways to go and I think there is potential, but I have to remind myself not to expect something like SF, that maybe you can’t bottle that formula. That it’s the gold standard for a reason. But honestly, Disney, in the words of TikTok star imo_unusual, you’ve made this show like God was dozing off when the angels were working, now RELEASE US (and LSY writernim)

[valkyrieromanoff]

🔪HOCUS POCUS ROMANCE: TBB HUNTER X YOU (day 15 of 31)

synopsis:  On a mission with the Bad Batch, you and Hunter become trapped with a mysterious artifact.

warning: none, kiss.

 a/n: Hello there, Hunter my beloved and skeptic , hope you like it💖

ɪ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴇʟʟ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ

ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ

As a fallen Jedi, you were no stranger to walking the fine line between light and darkness. Forced to abandon the Order, you found yourself doing work that once would have repelled you—freelance security, bounty hunting, anything to stay afloat in the turbulent times of Palpatine's rise to power. You masked your connection to the Force, knowing its use would put you at risk of detection, and for now, you worked for Cid, often partnering with the notorious Bad Batch.

The Clone Wars had brought legends about this group of genetically modified clones. You’d heard about them during your time in the Grand Army of the Republic—how these five unorthodox soldiers could turn the tide of battle when no one else could. Now, fate had paired you with them for a mission, extracting an ancient artifact that Cid hoped to sell for a hefty price on the black market. It was supposed to be simple: get in, grab the relic, and get out. But simple had a way of becoming complicated fast.

From the start, things went sideways. Tech couldn't find a stable landing zone, forcing him and Omega to remain aboard the ship while the rest of you—Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and yourself—jumped out, making your way into a vast cave system. Moments later, Wrecker set off explosives, which did their job a little too well. The wall between your team and Echo’s crumbled, creating an impassable barrier. Dust filled the air, and before you could react, Hunter threw himself over you, shielding you from the falling debris with his body.

You could feel his weight pinning you down, hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, each pulse syncing with your own. The cave was quiet, save for the faint sounds of shifting rubble and your sharp breath. Hunter’s face hovered above yours, his brow furrowed with concern, but it was the intensity of his senses that made the moment palpable. He must have felt your heartbeat spike, noticed the change in your breathing, because his eyes searched yours, catching the brief panic hidden behind your calm façade. 

“Everything alright?” His voice was low, rough with tension.

You nodded, your throat dry. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His dark eyes lingered on you for a second longer than necessary before he pushed himself off, offering you a hand. As soon as your fingers touched, a wave of awareness washed over you—Hunter was always aware of everything around him, but now it was like he could feel the smallest shift in your pulse, the slightest tremor in your grip. His brow quirked as you let go too quickly, almost as if he'd sensed something deeper.

You cleared your throat, trying to refocus. “The artifact’s close,” you muttered, checking the beeping tracker in your hand.

Hunter followed, his steps precise, silent. You could feel his presence at your back, even though he kept a measured distance. The silence stretched between you, broken only by the faint hum of the tracker. Every so often, you’d attempt small talk, but Hunter wasn’t much for conversation. Still, you caught glimpses of a smirk, his lips twitching at the corners as though he found your attempts amusing.

At the end of a narrow corridor, you spotted the artifact in a small room—a holocron. It was ancient, its surface glowing faintly with unfamiliar markings. Something in the Force tugged at you, urging caution. Hunter, always skeptical of things he couldn’t see or fight, frowned but stayed close as you approached the pedestal holding the relic.

“We should get out of here, now,” Hunter’s voice was firm, almost commanding. His heightened senses must’ve caught the faint sounds of the cave shifting, rocks rolling from the ceiling.

But as you both touched the holocron at the same time, something strange happened. A cool light spread from it, winding around the two of you like an invisible thread. For a moment, you felt something flow through your body, a connection deeper than anything you’d felt before.

You pulled away instinctively, but the distance between you and Hunter never stretched further than a few inches. Your legs buckled, and Hunter caught you effortlessly, his hands warm against your skin. The touch sent a shiver up your spine, your senses tingling in a way that had nothing to do with the Force.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice unusually soft. His thumb brushed against your waist, lingering.

“Yeah… yeah, I think so,” you whispered, but even as he helped you stand, the space between you seemed to evaporate again. You moved, and he was there. You took a step, and he was impossibly close. His brow furrowed, realizing what you had.

“I physically can’t pull away,” you murmured, your voice laced with growing unease.

Hunter tried stepping back, only for an unseen force to yank him toward you. He grabbed your shoulder to keep from stumbling into you completely. “What the—? Mesh’la, are you messing with me?” he asked, but there was no humor in his tone now.

“I’m serious. I think it’s some kind of… spell. The holocron must’ve triggered something.”

Hunter's sharp senses flared, and you could see the way his pulse quickened, the smallest shift in his stance. The connection between you wasn’t just physical—he was attuned to everything about you now, even the emotions you tried to suppress. His smirk returned, softer this time, as though he was testing you. 

“So what’s the plan? We stuck like this?”

You sat down on the cave floor, pulling him down beside you, the holocron still glowing faintly between you. “I need to open this. The answer’s inside.” Closing your eyes, you reached out with the Force, but every time you tried to concentrate, Hunter’s presence disrupted your focus. His closeness, the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart—they were all magnified.

Frustration bubbled up inside you. “I can’t focus, not like this.”

Hunter leaned in, his lips near your ear. “Maybe we need to get even closer,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a challenge.

You turned, your faces inches apart, the tension between you snapping into something undeniable. The Force surged, the pull between you stronger than ever, but this time, you stopped fighting it. Hunter’s eyes darkened, his senses fully attuned to yours, reading every shift in your breath, every unspoken thought.

The realization hit you both at once. “It’s not the holocron,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s us. We’re the key.”

Hunter’s gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up, his hand curling at your waist as if daring you to deny it. “Only one way to find out,” he said softly, his voice hushed with certainty.

And then, without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, your lips brushing his. The spell shattered with a rush of air, the holocron’s glow fading as the bond loosened, but neither of you pulled away.

When you finally broke the kiss, Hunter smirked, the teasing glint back in his eyes. “Guess we’ll need to be more careful with ancient artifacts from now on, mesh’la.”

You smiled, heart still racing. “Yeah, or maybe not.”

[antoschauniverse]

Sorry. My vent at such celebrity or quasi celebrity self-indulgence from someone who is angry at themselves for having some hope.

It seems to me that Gillian thinks she's an enigma and coy when she tries to play all the fields- partner, bisexual, mother, businesswoman- and says things she thinks are shocking. She probably thinks her fans are dumb and gullible. Fans knows she's like a fart; blows in whichever way the wind goes. She has yet to actually stand for anything.

Come on- we have gone through Madonna, Lady Gaga, Christina Aguilar, etc; she has missed her chance to be a shocker and intriguing.

What would be a shocker is if she got her act together and represented something valuable to connect with a real audience. Why doesn't she put more attention into the charities that she says she promotes? What about the charity that is to help research the disease that took her brother? She wants to be all British proper with American vulgarities.

David is a Hollywood cliche with his groomer ways, but so is Gillian. She is a superficial fake face and voice trying to use female sex and token words (male gaze and male toxicity) like she really knows what that means just for attention and $$.

She is actually part of the problem of objectifying women in how she acts and portrays herself (fake feminist). She is no longer a Scully influencer, but she could have had potential. I cringed at one of the clips where she is promoting her drink and says something to someone about finding her Gspot. Oh please woman. Grow up. It's not funny or alluring. Others have already beat her to it. The marketing, I will say, was good, but she's past her prime and doesn't have the foundation to be the face. Her netflix shows are not at the top ratings and she's not a movie star to carry that momentum.

It's too bad that these people (D and G) are disingenuous to themselves because the collective detectives in the Fandom see past their masks and aren't convinced. Be real and honest with yourselves and then they can have some real beefy influence, but make it valuable and worthwhile influence.

Sorry. Frustrated in the void of watching jackasses.

You don't have to apologize- that's your opinion, but I disagree with you on a few points.

"she's past her prime and doesn't have the foundation to be the face." I'm sorry, but this sounds very offensive to all women over the age of 50. This is more suitable for David, who appreciates women only for their young age. I'm not a fan of Gillian, but I'm glad that she can prove at least a little bit that older women can also play leading roles in movies and TV shows, they also want sex and have sexual desires and such women can be the face of any company. A young face, big tits and young asses are not a reason to push older women into the background.

Of course, Gillian earns money from her drinks, but this is her job and money. No one forces people to buy everything that celebrities sell. People do it themselves. I buy what I like, not things that some celebrity is selling.

Gillian devotes a lot of time to charity and spends enough of her money to support charitable foundations. I'm sorry, but I haven't heard of David doing this unless it's necessary. Gillian is a representative of the Neurofibromatosis Association. It's the disease that killed her brother.

I think if Gillian hadn't defended a woman's right not to be a simple addition to a man 31 years ago, then we would never have gotten the Scully we all know now.

[thee-morrigan]

sincerity is scary

character(s): Holland Townsend, plus a lil Verda at the beginning (technically, Nate's not in this but my god is he living rent-free in Holland's mind) wc/rating: 3.2k / T (swearing) warnings: so many spoilers for Book 3 (all below the cut ofc!) read on ao3 in case anyone’s wondering, Holland still thinks the scariest thing she’s up against is her own stupid heart.

“Come on, Verda, you have to have something for me. I want to do things. I need to do things.”

“You know, some research suggests that feeling the need to be busy all the time is a trauma response,” the pathologist responded mildly, not looking up from the tray of instruments he was busy sterilizing. “That it’s a fear-based compulsion to distract your brain from meaningfully processing traumatic events.”

“You wanna send me those citations, then, and I can distract myself with some light reading?” Holland snapped back, but there was no heat in it.

Verda paused his work then and turned, giving a huff of laughter whose lightness was somewhat diminished by the careful assessment in his eyes as they swept her face. Although they’d started out, as many good friends do, brought together not by fate or fortune but chance proximity, they had quickly discovered bright shared threads of themselves in each other beneath the veneer of professional courtesy and had found themselves fast companions ever since.

He respected her as a colleague, of course; more than he’d expected, if he was honest. She had a stronger background in his line of work than he’d dared to hope in such a small station, which made her a useful colleague to have when he found himself stymied by something. And — perhaps most importantly — she didn’t pester him with questions she didn’t even know were asinine when a case experienced delays. He’d liked Detective Reele more or less, but she’d been marginally tolerable when things didn’t move at the speed she decided appropriate, regardless of whether he could make degraded tissue spontaneously re-materialize when she decided she wanted clearer fingerprints. No, Detective Townsend was a better colleague, that was certain. 

More than just respecting her work, though, he liked Holland in general; she brought a borderline acerbic levity to the station that balanced against Tina’s more exuberant nature and his own tendency to forget to venture upstairs at least once a day. She wasn’t calmer than Tina, exactly — he wasn’t sure calm was a word that had ever been used to describe Holland Townsend. But if Tina was something in the neighborhood of bubbly, all iridescent soap shine and rounded edges, Holland was something sharper, something fizzing, like a live wire.

When he looked at her now, though, he saw less of the bright crackle of energy and more of the kind of nervous energy that led people to market abhorrent devices like fidget spinners. She looked restless. She looked tired.

—

Holland was tired. Goddamn exhausted, actually, if she was honest with herself, which seemed to be almost never these days. She didn’t let herself linger on the way that thought chafed any more than she let herself slow down enough for that bone-deep weariness to press its full weight against her.

It was better to keep moving.

“You know, you’re probably overdue for a vacation,” Verda’s voice, more tinged with concern than it had been a moment ago, cut through her reverie. “I’m pretty sure your promotion to detective didn’t entitle you to less PTO.”

The spark of wry humor in his comment didn’t fully mask the shade of careful observation in his eyes, but…it was an attempt. An easy out for her to muster her usual grinning nonchalance — the irreverent charm Adam had once snarked at her about relying on too heavily.

If it ain’t broke, I guess, she thought, swallowing the urge to sigh as she indeed summoned a half-smile, made herself look her friend in the eye as she tilted her head at him.

“There you go with that concern again, V,” she teased, rising from her perch on the edge of a spare lab bench.

“It’s almost like we’re friends,” he said dryly, although some of the tension in his face eased.

“Which is why I’m gonna let you get back to it and quit bugging you.” Holland moved toward the open lab door and paused, resting one hand against the door jamb as she flashed Verda a more genuine smile. “Thanks, though. For letting me bug you.”

He waved her comment off, though he returned her smile. “Anytime. Besides, I’m hoping things will finally start calming back down with those recent cases sorted. Then we’ll both probably relish any interruptions to the usual humdrum.”

It was all she could do to dredge up a hum of laughter in agreement before stepping back into the corridor, only letting her shoulders slump once she was safely ensconced in her office.

She hadn’t told any of them yet that she was leaving the station. She’d have to soon; she knew that, knew she’d been putting it off far too long already. And, as her mother had pointed out, it wasn’t as if she was never going to be able to see them again. Her friends would still be her friends. They just wouldn’t work together anymore.

Or mostly get to know what she even did for work anymore.

She wasn’t even entirely sure how much she could still keep Tina in the loop, as much as she might wish to. She didn’t have any reason to be particularly suspicious of Agent Pierson, the woman the Agency had sent to spy on Tina from within the station. But as much as she trusted Tina —with her secrets but also to take care of herself— she worried that the balm of having a confidant who was just hers was no longer truly available to her, at least not in the way it had been. Part of that fear, she knew, came from knowing she couldn’t reveal that the so-called new officer was not exactly who she seemed. In all likelihood, the whole arrangement probably really was for Tina’s safety, and probably nothing to worry about, but…Holland still felt like she was lying to her. And not the kind of lying she was comfortable with.

A liar and a coward, she thought as she sat at her desk, chin propped in her hands. She felt that constricting weight begin to settle against her, her skin too tight along her bones, and jerked to her feet again before that melancholia could curl catlike into her lap and trap her there.

She supposed it was useful that everyone had become so inured to her abrupt comings and goings from the station; no one bothered to look up as she walked out into the bright heat of the midday sun, its sticky warmth blanketing her body after a morning spent in the over-conditioned chill of the station’s air.

—

She ended up back in her apartment more out of habit than any real desire to be there. For a while, she found herself drifting, unmoored and aimless, between rooms. She should try to rest, she knew that, knew that if she could sleep she would feel better. 

These days, though, she too often found herself reaching for sleep only to close her fist around endless, empty time. 

She tried to read, to lose herself in another universe for a while, but gave up after she realized that while she’d technically read a whole chapter, she had no idea what had happened in it. 

She thought about playing guitar but figured if she couldn’t focus on reading, she probably wouldn’t fare much better at making anything that sounded like music instead of discordant strumming.

Plus she was already bored of sitting still in the empty quiet of her apartment.

Pushing herself off her window seat, Holland strode to her dresser and tugged out shorts and a sports bra. Experience had taught her long ago that she couldn’t outrun her own brain, but at least she could tire her body enough that she was forced to sleep, at least a little.

—

Because she was already tired, it took longer than usual to find her pace, especially without any music to give her a cadence she could match. In deference to safety, she’d decided against headphones; probably a wise choice   — definitely a wise choice, she reminded herself, hardly a choice at all unless she decided to start actively courting disaster — but one that did nothing to lessen the weight of that heaviness that kept pulling at her, brutal and swift as a rip current. Still, after three miles, she felt some of the tension in her body ebb, some of that near-constant tightness in her chest yielding its grip enough for breathing to come easier, deep and steady draughts of air filling her lungs. 

For a long while, there was only the blessed gentle warmth of summer air, the quiet scraping thump of her sneakers against the sidewalk, and the pleasant ache of her muscles stretching and contracting. Slowly, mile after mile, she felt her body become less foreign, each pounding step bringing it closer to the skin and bones and thudding heart that she recognized as her own. Felt each clenching beat of that too-human muscle in her chest insisting it was where it belonged, safe within its cage of bone and flesh. Felt the reassurance that her heart hadn’t been torn from her chest and left, raw and bleeding, outside her body. 

No matter how it might feel lately. 

A liar and a coward. 

The sharp dig of a knife between her ribs, the claws of that familiar tightness latching into her chest again, and—

Breathe. 

She sucked in air with a sharp gasp, forced her lungs to expand, to draw air in and in and in until she could feel those claws retract.

Until she felt the thought she’d almost had, the one she still hadn’t let herself articulate even within her own mind, retract with them.

Another kind of lie. Another thing she was too much of a coward to confront.

Holland sucked in another breath, letting the sultry weight of that summer air fill her, fill all the cold, empty spaces that lurked within her. Let the warmth of it incinerate the other unarticulated thoughts and shadows of memory before they could turn their baleful, accusatory eyes back toward her. 

Turning her own gaze outward once more, she scanned her surroundings, squinting at a nearby street sign as she passed and trying to decide how much further until she really would need to loop back. Holland’s run had taken her well into the outskirts of town. It wasn’t her preferred route, which snaked through the woods near the Cornerstones and eventually toward the marina, but at least this route hadn’t taken her through Wayhaven proper. Or required her to skirt the station, as her usual path would have. Even if she was leaving — even if no one seemed to really notice or care whether she was, at any given moment, in her office these days — she still didn’t think running directly past the station in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon was necessarily appropriate. 

So Holland found herself instead approaching the winding series of long hills that would eventually lead her toward the hospital. Her knees ached just thinking about those hills. None were particularly steep, but they stretched further than was typically noticeable in a car. On foot, though…no, it was probably past time for her to begin finding her way back home. 

It had been a while since she’d been on a long run. A long while, actually, and she knew her legs would likely ache come morning, even with the shorter maintenance runs she tried to squeeze in whenever she could. Which had been no chance at all these past weeks, between work and what felt like an endless cycle of injury and suffocatingly long recovery. Indeed, she felt the muscles in her thighs protest as she crested one hill before veering right, toward the streets leading back into town. Oh, she would certainly feel the cost of this impromptu long run in the morning.

Although it might be a nice change, she supposed, if her body ached from something other than having the shit kicked out of her by Trappers. Or crumbling buildings. Or winged giants who caused said buildings to end up in pieces on top of her. And those were only some of the most recent aches.

She rolled her shoulders, shaking her arms to diffuse the pressing tension of that memory, her breath a sharp scrape against her throat. 

Fine. She was fine. Despite the strain of these past months, she continued to be perfectly fine. Had gotten through everything that’d been thrown at her. Not entirely smoothly, certainly not effortlessly, but…she had gotten through it. Would continue to do so, perhaps with greater ease than before if her new role indeed provided increased training. She could handle it. She would handle it.

It was the same argument she’d given Nate after the auction, almost two weeks ago now. As to whether she believed it any more now than she had then…another thought she wasn’t ready to have yet. 

I am in love with you, Holland.

Another familiar ache in her chest, one more bruise on her already battered heart. She shut down that train of thought, almost stumbling as she worked to redirect that particular train of thought. To shut out the image that flashed across her mind’s eye, of how Nate’s face had looked in that conversation. The way he’d looked at her, the agony that had streaked across his beautiful face, and how neatly and thoroughly it had eviscerated her. 

That pain. That pain that she had caused.

I don’t know how this is going to work.

She’d had to remind herself how to breathe. Had to remind herself to breathe through the lashing pain of how much she’d hated herself for putting that look on his face. And for knowing that it would likely be far from the last time. 

Because she didn’t know either.

She didn’t know how to avoid it, this hurting him. Didn’t know how to be an easier person to love. 

And as for what she did know, what she’d suspected and quietly fretted over for weeks now…

That hideous weight tugged beneath her ribs and Holland sped up, pushing past the bleating tremor in her thighs, the burning ache in her chest. Pushed that thought out, out, out—

“Fuck!” The word was little more than a hiss as the world tipped and roiled and Holland went flying, elbows skidding and knees barking as she hit the pavement.

Between the subsequent string of violent curses and what remained of her pride, she supposed she was relieved to still be closer to the outskirts than the town center. If running past the station in the middle of a Tuesday was arguably inappropriate, the selection of words that flew out of her mouth as she eased to a seat on the ground was indisputably so. 

She winced as she examined the shredded skin on her forearms, her knees. She hadn’t even fallen well: the most she’d done before splaying gracelessly on the street had been to land more on her arms than her hands. Not her first choice, or at least it shouldn’t have been, but at least she hadn’t broken her wrists. Or anything else, as far as she could tell, looking her latest batch of wounds over as she rose to her feet.

Holland hissed again as she gingerly flexed her left leg, which had borne the brunt of the impact and now sported angry red scrapes along her knee and halfway up her thigh. Just scrapes, but ones that stretched painfully when she bent her leg. 

Swallowing another mouthful of curses, she pulled free the water bottle attached to her running belt, unstoppering it with her teeth before she squeezed a stream of water along first one leg, then the other, and then the smaller scrapes on her arms and elbows. They stung like all hell, but at least they looked slightly better with most of the dirt and grime rinsed away. Naturally, she’d forgotten to bother checking if she’d needed to restock the handful of bandages she usually kept in one of the belt’s pockets; naturally, she only unearthed one after fumbling through every goddamned pocket, the lone bandage too small to be of much use unless she fancied ripping adhesive off part of an open wound later.

She exhaled, sharp and impatient, and raked a hand over the sweat-dampened strands of hair that had broken free of her stubby ponytail and now lay plastered to her forehead. 

No new scars indeed. She snorted as she recalled Nate’s words in that forest clearing, back before they’d even known what manner of myth hunted her. She doubted it had occurred to him that she’d likely continue to rack up scars earned through her own sheer stupidity. God, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

She drained the remains of her water bottle before slotting it back in its elastic holster at her hip. She toed the ground, wincing at her protesting kneecap, and considered. Depending on the route she took, she wasn’t that far from her apartment. The circuitous route she’d intended to follow was obviously out, but she could take a more direct one and be back relatively quickly. Walking, it would take…she did the math, frowning. Walking back, assuming she kept her regular pace, would likely take her the better part of two hours. She stretched her legs again, shifting experimentally from one foot to the other. She was hurt, yes, but it was definitely only superficial, and not so bad she couldn’t probably run home as well as she could walk. Running would be faster, even with what would certainly be a much slower pace. Would likely cut the return time in half, actually, though she knew it would hurt. Of course, it would hurt to walk home, too. 

Holland’s shoulders sagged. Since she’d stopped moving, her body had started to register physical exhaustion, had begun to grow heavy with it, and she wanted to be home. Wanted a shower and her bed and a different kind of silence than the kind that felt like a scream.

She did have another option, some small part of her mind pointed out before she shut that thought out, too. Technically, the warehouse, where she had a bed and a shower and certainly less silence, was a bit closer to her current location than her own apartment. However begrudgingly, Holland had to admit the thought tempted her. Tempted her more when she thought of the magic-imbued salve, leftover from what had been her most recent batch of injuries, stashed in a bathroom cabinet. To say nothing of the vampire whose mere presence soothed her more than any medicine.

Her frown deepened. She was tired of showing up at the warehouse battered and bloody. Really goddamned tired of it. 

She straightened, rolling her shoulders and breathing deep. Her apartment wasn’t that far, and it was only a skinned knee. Well, two skinned knees, actually, and her elbows, but…

Holland released that deep breath and set off,  a tentative jog while she found her new pace, toward the town center and her apartment beyond.

She didn’t much feel like reminding anyone how easily she broke apart.

[voraciousvore]

The Giant (7/16)

***Contains violence and kidnapping***

------Chapter 7------

I woke up to the rising sun streaming in through the window. I felt so comfortable and warm, cuddled up on the giant's chest. He had placed his hand protectively over me while I had been asleep. I stretched and yawned, cracking my back.

"Chester? Time to wake up," I said, massaging his chest with my hands. He shifted underneath me and closed his fingers around my midsection, lifting me off his chest.

"Good morning," he yawned, raising himself up to a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes sleepily with his other hand.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked him. I was very happy with the events of the previous night and was in the mood for an adventure.

"Actually..." Chester began, "I had something in mind, but I wasn't sure what you would think about it." I looked up at him questioningly. "I know I said earlier that it wouldn't be safe for you to be around other giants. Which is still true. I was thinking I might be able to mask your scent with cologne and hide you on my person while I wore the same cologne. Then I could take you out with me, and nobody would be able to detect you. What do you think? Would you want to try it?"

I furrowed my brow and ruminated on the idea. While the plan would be risky, Chester would still be around to protect me if I were discovered. Going out sounded fun, and I really wanted to see more of the world I was in. We could go to a bookstore or library and obtain books about magic. I didn't want to stay isolated from the world for the rest of my life.

I looked up at Chester, starry-eyed with excitement, and grinned. "I want to go."

"Great!" he proclaimed. We hurriedly dressed, ate breakfast, and prepared to leave. Chester threw on a big hoodie with a roomy pocket in the front for me to hide in. He brought out the cologne, a small clear bottle full of light purple fluid.

"I'm going to have to spray this on you pretty liberally to conceal your scent, so you might want to cover your eyes and nose," Chester warned. I complied, and he drenched me in fluid, then sprayed it all over himself. I sneezed and rubbed my nose. Once the excess spray dissipated, Chester kneeled down to my level and inhaled deeply through his nose.

"I think that will work. It doesn't completely eliminate your scent, but covers it well enough." I gazed into his giant handsome face and smiled idiotically. He smiled back tenderly and grasped me in his hand, gently depositing me in the pocket in the front of his jacket. The inside of the pocket was large and soft, and I could see out the sides without feeling too exposed. I was jostled about when he started walking, but I soon adjusted to the rhythm of his gait. The weather outside was chillier than it had been the past few days, and overcast, the sun hidden behind a gloomy barrier of gray clouds. To my surprise I heard the familiar beep of a car unlocking, then the opening of a car door, and I felt a little disoriented as the giant sat down in the driver's seat.

"You have a car?" I asked, realizing how dumb the question was as soon as I spoke.

"Of course," Chester answered. "I live out in the woods. It would be too far to walk where we're going." The car engine roared to life, and I settled in against the giant's torso, appreciating the heat radiating from his body. The ride was bumpy, and lasted about twenty minutes. Eventually the car stopped.

"Where are we?" I inquired, not able to see anything from inside the pocket.

Chester opened the car door and stepped out. "We're at the market. Don't be afraid, I will keep you safe." As he started walking, I peeked out the side, and felt my heart jump into my throat. There were giants everywhere, and they were all frighteningly massive. Some of them gave Chester strange looks as he passed by, and I realized with dread they must suspect something. I retreated deeper into the pocket, hugging my legs, and started to involuntarily shake like a leaf in the wind. Chester must have felt me shaking because he reached his hand into his pocket and held me softly, petting me with his thumb in an effort to calm me down. I huddled into his hand and gripped his fingers tightly. Chester would protect me, but one wrong move and I could potentially be stolen away and eaten alive. I had already lived through that terrifying experience once, and I never wanted it to happen again. I cringed and held on to his hand tighter.

After a few minutes Chester stopped walking. His fingers encircled me and he pulled me out of his pocket, keeping me hidden inside his fist. Cautiously, he opened his hand enough so that I could see we were standing in front of a giant bookshelf full of thick tomes about magic.

"Which ones do you want?" Chester whispered, trying not to draw attention to himself. I looked over the books and pointed at a couple that interested me. Chester took them off the shelf with his free hand.

"Do you want to look around the market some more, or are you too afraid? Would you prefer to go home now?" Chester questioned under his breath.

"Let's go home," I said back quietly. "I'm frightened." Chester nodded and put me back in his jacket pocket. He went up to the counter and paid for the books I had picked out, chatting politely with the giantess at the register. As I warily peered out of the side opening, I noticed a tall, thin giant across the room staring in my direction. I didn't think he was able to see me directly, but he was fixated on my giant protector, as if he knew that Chester had a human on his person. The way he looked chilled my blood. His eyes were blue, cold as ice, and he had long blond hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail. He was gaunt and pale, with high cheekbones that gave him a haughty, aristocratic mien. He was dressed in a black coat with brass buttons, pants, and boots. He maintained his intense gaze the entire time we were in the store.

I felt rising panic in my chest, but as usual there was nothing I could do. I desperately wanted to warn Chester, but there was no way for me to communicate to him my concerns without drawing outside attention. Chester walked out of the store, books in tow, oblivious to the potential threat. I couldn't see if the giant man was following us or not. I rocked back and forth with anxiety. I wanted to look out but was too afraid of being seen by other giants as Chester strolled through the crowd. Eventually, Chester made his way to the parking lot, which was mostly deserted. I thought this might be a good opportunity to warn him.

"Chester!" I hissed, trying to get his attention as quietly as I could. "Chester! I think someone might be following us!"

Chester stopped in his tracks and stiffened. He turned around to survey his surroundings. Before he could do anything, however, something crashed into his head. With a grunt, he dropped like a stone to the pavement. He landed on his back so I wasn't crushed under his body. Although I was not harmed, I was too stunned to react. An ominous shadow loomed overhead. I stayed in my hiding place, a wave of terror washing over me. Someone was roughly searching his body, rifling through his clothes. Suddenly, a giant bony hand snaked into the jacket pocket and bumped into me. I yelped and tried to dash away, but the hand was much faster and violently grabbed me. I screamed as I was ripped out of the pocket and into the cold air.

The terrifying giant that had been watching us earlier was crouching over me, his face contorted into rage. When he saw the prize he had snagged, he flashed me a vicious grin, revealing gleaming white teeth. He was inconceivably massive, even taller than Chester, and I realized immediately I was in serious danger as I struggled fruitlessly in his tight grip.

"Chester!" I shrieked. "Help me!" I glanced back to see his head covered in blood, eyes closed, flat on his back. The other giant tightened his grip, causing me to cry out in pain. His hands had none of the gentleness that Chester's possessed.

"Finally!" the cruel giant declared. "I have my own human!" He stood up to his full height and brought me close to his face to get a better look. I started to cry. My tears only seemed to amuse him. His cold blue eyes ogled me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Please... let me go," I pleaded, gasping for breath. "You're hurting me."

He ignored my supplications, shoving me into his coat pocket and striding off.

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

[just-an-enby-lemon]

@unrestrainedbalderdash said they don't care if I put Jonathan Crane into my idea of how I would do an adult Scooby cartoon. And since they are someone who I really liked and I really just need one person saying "hey is okay" to me to overly babble over something here we are.

Disclaimer: I did not watch the Velma show. I saw the trailer and reviews but that is it. This is also not a recreation of it. It's merely how I would do an adult scooby doo story with a more representative cast.

▫️Alpha Kappa Scobby (I'm bad naming stuff)

Is time to grow up.

With the end of high school comes the anxiety inducing question of what to do next? To the Mystery Inc. the answer was always obivous: continuing solving mysteries together. Unfortunally fate appeared to have other plans. Between parental presure, a crashing economy, a shitty job market and an investigation that abelit sucefull ended up breaking the Mystery Machine, hurting a civilian and facing the local authorities ultimatum that they could not keep their unregulated detective agency it appears to be the end.

But the thing is mysteries never ever leave the gang. Where they are things happen and as they face the monsters of adult life other monsters may appear on the way. Are they ready?

▫️The Gang

- Velma is our main characther. She is a second generation imigrant kid from an indian-american family, possibly autistic (mostly represented by her sensory issues and examples of masking) and a genius who suffers from anxiety and the pressure that both comes with societal expectations related to prejudice, familial expectations (especially as a second generation imigrant) and being a gifted kid. She is also a lesbian.

- Shaggy is Shaggy. They are a possibly stoner black latino (he may be a stonner or it may be just harmfull steriotypes possibly both) and they are also ace and non-binary using they/then pronouns. Norville is their deadname and the fact their parents call them that is a dead give away of the time of people they are. Shaggy was adopted and their parents are upped middle class white guys who adopted three POC kids and act extremily white saviour over it. Their bio parents are implied to be scientistis at Star Labs that died in an freaky accident when they eere still little. They may have something to do with Scooby being a talking dog. Though they met by Shaggy adopting a stray puppy. Their personality is still the same. Except for the parents issues. Like they are still the same glutonous coward who cares a lot for their friends and likes bad horror movies.

- Scooby is Scooby. Like nothing changed at all about him. Except that outside the gang people do question the fact he is a talking dog. Since their world is really weird people go from allien to failed scientific experiment of either LexCorp or Starlabs. The more accepted theory is that he is the first non-human to manifest a meta gene. He isn't being studies because he flied over radar until the gaang started solving mysteries and at this point he was too popular plus the governent had other more important issues going on. So he is just a fact.

- Daphne is a girl who defy expectations. She is weird. She has two mons (a thing I know is cannon on the Velma cartoon and am using), one is a british martial artist and the other a american fashion designer and she got very deep into both of her mons careears. She has some relatives in jail and she learned a bunch with them. She loves to learn except not the school stuff, so her grades were meh and people usually saw her as just a pretty face, even though she has a bunch of great skils like fighting, fashion, faking signatures, lock picking, stealth, acting, a bunch of sports and more. She is bissexual and has a huge crush on both Elvira and Hex Girls. She also loves escape artists (being good at scaping herself) and is a fan of bad horror movies and campy actors. She also has a crush on Fred.

- Fred is a sweet bissexual himbo and he is very clearly neurodivergent and definitvaly autistic. He stims a lot, has dificulty getting social clues, misses most sarcasm and some abstract expressions, has a huge special interest in traps, sometimes goes non-verbal, just the whole book. He is a rich white boy but fails to meet his misoginistic racist parents expectations not only by hangin with the gaang but by having a disability. His parents never took him to a doctor to be diagnosed because they believed it would bring shame to the family to have a disabled kid and just hoped he would "grow out of it". He does have some internalized prejudice but it's working to be better. He also has a huge crush in Daphne, is a very supportive and loyal friend and infodumps people a lot.

▫️The Pilot

The pilot episode starts with the gaang reciving their ultimatum and having to undergo an state aproved course to became private investigators and be abble to keep the Mystery Inc. going. Shennanigans issue and they all end up failing.

Daphne is too good on the self defense courses and also may have caused a teacher who implied she would need to do sexual favors for him if she hoped to pass in his boring law class to never be able to walk again. Luckily he was too afraid to press charges.

Fred keept trying to insert trap making into the course to ridiculous extremes.

Shaggy broke the vending machine, ate all the food and also just keept running away from the clues in all the pratical texts. They answers also mostly involved running and getting uninvolved.

No one knew if Scooby should do dog training or humam courses and he ended in a confusing stream of buerocracy.

Velma should by all means had suceeded though and the only reason she failed was racial bias. She tries to brush it off, after all she was not going to be a detective on her own anyway and all her friends failed, but it clearly afects her and this will be a thing hanging over her head the whole season. The episode ends with Velma discovering she got approved to a full scholarship on a fictional ivvy league university outisde of Crystal Cove she had applied more for her parents sakes than her in criminology.

▫️They failed what now?

After a whole debate during the second episode and the gaang being supportive even if it means it is the definitive end for them, Velma decides to go to college. Of course trying to keep together the whole gaang somehow ends up involved with the campus.

- Shaggy and Scobby get a job at the college cafeteria that Shaggy uses to move into a trailer in the college parking lot (that they plans into turning in a food truck) so they can get away from their transphobic parents. Scobby of course moves with them.

- With help of white rich cis man priviledge Fred gets accepted to the same school but into architeture (he does uses this knoledge to plan traps but also realizes he likes projecting rooms on general). The thing is thanks to missanderstanding a sarcastic coment from Velma he ends up being part of a very "bro" fraternity. It's mostly played for laughs as he definitivally doesn't belong there but also accidentaly starts turning the guys into better people. But also features on Fred understanding his priviledge and the internalized prejudices his parents dumped on him and evolving past them and also dealing with ableism.

- Daphne decided to try to work in a close by cafe and became roomates with a goth girl called June that works with Shaggy and Scooby. Both are fired and decide to open an etsy store together. She is also doing an online course on fashion. Velma has a crush on June and June is implied to have a criminal past. The etsy store is mostly used for laughs though it also is used to show Daphne dealing with being different from soceity expectations and the hardships of having a small bussiness.

▫️The Plot

The story focuses on their adventures on campus as they deal with adult life but also as weird things keep happening and students end up either getting murdered or disapearing all the time. While focused on episodic shennanigans with characther growth as the linear aspect there are some key episodes that show that there's a major conspiracy involving the university's past and the looming presence of an white supremacist cult.

▫️Cool and all but where is Jonathan Crane?

The thing is if I was writing this series I would make the connection with DC be mostly references with some few special episodes starting on the second season (including the obligatory Batman team-up and a episode were Riddler, who is on his P.I arc, is hired to the same case the Mystery Inc is in and they have to work together). So we would have things like Scooby possibly having the metagene, Velma being a Batman fangirl and having some batfam merch in the middle of her detective merch, Fred being a Green Arrow fan and buying trap material for Ace Chemicals and LexCorp, Daphne mentioning her uncle Alfred or Shaggy's bio parents having been Star Lab scientistis. Some name drops like WayneTech or Lex Luthor.

The exception being Jonathan Crane. Jon is an actual relevant secundary characther. After mysterious circunstances involving a fight with the dean, a recomendation letter and an ultimatum, Jonathan leaved Gotham University and became a teacher at the Yet To Be Named University where the gang is.

His disciplines are an eletive about phobias, psychophatology and forensic psychology. He is famous over the campus for being a genius and a great teacher but also for being harsh, having extremely high standards and hard exams and just being creepy and really really weird. There is legit theories of him being some kind of cryptic or a ghost. He has the uncanny hability of walking without making any noise and being abble to be silent and quiet until he suddently scares someone with his presence. He speaks little outside the classroom and is always alone. And if someone tries to be friendly with him, he will just leave and let the person hanging. No one ever saw him eat only drink coffe (that may be spiked with whisky sometimes). He is mostly saw outside classes either writing/typing or reading (he only reads text books and horror stories). He has a crow in his office and while the bird is calm and sweet with him it sings creepy old childrem rhymes and it definitivaly attacked a student who got emotional over a bad grade and started screaming with Crane.

With all that being said Crane is Velma's fsvorite professor and she is his favorite student. He doesn't presure or mocks her and is fascinated by her theories and they can discuss psychology, chesmistry, literature and criminology for hours. They respect each other and have a deep understanding being fairly similar (and yes make Crane be also POC, prefencialy south asian), they are friends and with her family alway Velma sees Crane as a pseudo father-figure. Even Crane's bird Ichabod seems to also enjoy Velma a lot. The rest of the gang has more mixed views of Crane. He is always polite with them but he is also creepy as hell specially with Shaggy and Scooby as he asks them a lot of questions about their fears.

Every single time someone either dies or disappears everyone accuses Crane. He is ALWAYS a suspect. And Velma is his only defender (sometimes the gang as whole also). And he is always show to be innocent. But is also hinted that he is still planning and doing Scarecrow shit and while it's played for laughs the huge impact Crane and Velma's bond have to Velma overcoming her issues is a hint that when it finally happens of Crane being the guilty part and his Scarecrow persona coming to light it will break Velma's heart.

[wispisstillverybored67]

La Follia D'Amore

GAME OVER

SORBET HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY

TIME FOR THE PUNISHMENT!

YOU TOO, GELATO!

Out of all the things I've stumbled upon...

Why does this have to come today?

I wanted to go exploring around the neighborhood since we just moved here (not like the natives know; records are too easily forged). So after having my sister give me the OK, I decided to first check out the studio complex a few ways down from our apartment building. I see it on the way to school, and it's always stark black and empty. So with little Arles Zorro tucked into my chest for her own safety, I snuck inside. I used to sneak to avoid detection to keep up the exciting atmosphere.

Now I'm sneaking around for my fucking life.

About 20 minutes after walking into the basement, some others had also walked in here. I'm on the south-east side of the room where they were, hiding under the sofa (it's a surprisingly loose squeeze). The first one... was what I can only call a madman. Long and lanky figure, wild green hair, but I couldn't discern what he was wearing. This one stood the tallest. Next to/behind him was this, uh... I don't know what to describe it. It looks to be in a full bodysuit, but that's all. I can't see shit in this light that it was flashing from the tape recorder. Between that and the way these two faced the others, they might be recording a snuff film. And as for the content...?

It was torture, plain and simple. Two other men were thrown here, in complete darkness, bound up like shrimps. They seemed to have been doing SOMETHING wrong to have warranted this. But I've never seen them before, so I can't vouch for them. Two men, tied like little shrimps at the market, blonde and blue, faces blown into fear and despair. Hoho... I can sense how despairing they truly are. Hahaha... Once I caught sight of the other two, the captors, they might have said something. All I can make out was one of them calling the other "my love". Must've been from the shrimp schlubs. And then I think one of them exclaimed that the torturer lied to them, or something I can't remember, then one of them got pulled away to the table further in... An empty glass, reflecting this blunt truth. It's telling what's not to be told... They need that mask.

In hindsight, I really should have told Nero what I saw that day. Would it even matter if I did? He wouldn't care. As would I. I might have acted overt with what I saw that night. Nero-chan, I'm sorry, but I didn't think I had to. To die on the battlefield in that empty life is just hell. But it wouldn't make a difference. We all still die in the end. All for nothing. But back to the past at hand.

The madman held up a razor sharp butcher's cleaver looking thing. Then he called something out of his shadow, and injected one of them with something. He jolted upwards, yet flopped downward just as quickly on the table he could not escape from. The little thing holding the tape recorder didn't move from it's spot. Well THAT makes sense. It would be hard to record a snuff film if you're unstill.

And then he started slicing. Oh my!

From the feet up, he worked the blade onto that guy. *sshink!* That's gotta hurt. It's super, super sharp. Again he went, cutting into the guy bound, gagged, and strapped to table, making intensely small pieces as he went cleaving, producing very clean cuts, almost as if he'd done this before several times. A veritable dance of iron he (the victim) somehow didn't die from. And he was acting so calm as he hacked away, too. The victim was emanating blood-curdling screams, howls of fear and despair. I'll never forget the expression and face he made, seemingly constantly warped in fear, tears flooding down his face.

Despair... Were they mafioso? You can only get despair this potent from those punks. I know this, because outside Morioh at least, there's this yakuza, and they spread despair like this... One of my old teachers was a former member of the yakuza. I can tell from his chopped off pinkie finger on one hand. Isn't the mafia the Italian yakuza? Anyway... How could I have sensed the despair radiating from the room? Emotions aren't my strong suit, much less understanding how someone feels when I can't get a good look at his or her face. I only looked at him once, the image is yet still burned into my mind.

What's keeping that schlub alive? Is there even such a thing as something that can keep him alive through that? I pulled Arles Zorro closer to my chest, fearing slightly that whatever noise from her would send us to the chopping block. She's unusually fine with this now... Ever since we got her about a day before leaving Morioh, she hated being touched like this. Uh, actually, maybe it's just because it was Ane touching her like that. Keeping us alive... They seem very strong. Both the madman, and the pair. Strong... Hey, maybe I ought to check them out after this. When the Iron Waltz is done, I'll take my leave and go.

At this point, he was up to... the midsection, I believe. He didn't relent with this torture. Death by a thousand cuts seems to be a nasty way to go out, and whatever he put into him, he's still alive. Bound up extremely tightly like a fish, gagged so he won't scream, and hacked away by a mad doctor type while remaining alive under the knife... What a way to go out. Hey, what happened to the other one? Where's he? Found him.

He stopped crying, only temporarily. He was trembling in his spot. He squirmed away from the scene of the crime. And then he flopped down limply at last, his gag had been sucked in so far down his throat, it looked a bit suggestive. Most likely, he either suffocated from his crying, or he killed himself. At the time, and even in hindsight now, it was hard to tell. It wasn't that hard to do whichever one, either way. "...?!" I squeaked out once his corpse fell closer to me. Smells of cheap cologne, ugh...

"Eh?!" Shit. I think the camera freak saw me. One wrong move, and you're next on the chopping block. Hehehe...

The mad doctor, for his part, stopped what he was doing, and picked up the blonde's corpse by the collar. But only for a moment, and he dropped him once he saw that face. The face of one who wanted only to experience sweet death after all that happened. "How tragic," was what I read from his lips. If you're making a snuff film, it makes sense not to speak, unless it would amplify the experience. You don't want to muffle the cries of the damned, the ones crying for love in hell.

And now it was time to hack away again. Wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither wither. Melt away into nothing. The cold steel is the reckoning for all. Drown in despair. The despair that your partner had killed himself because of this mess. The despair that you can't see him because you're still alive. The despair that whatever the fuck got you punished like this was preventable.

Hacked away, hacked away, careful cuts producing thin pieces. What'll you do with the pieces once you're done? There's the smell of a noxious chemical of sorts from the far east of the room. Ugh, I can only wait to see the end results.

From the midsection upward, he attempted to accept his inevitable fate, but all it did was force him to utter a deafening screech. The screams of bloody murder. A face still drained of all hope, growing deeper yet deeper into the bowels of despair. The shine in his eyes slowly faded as he went upwards, with the desire for death slowly slipping out of his reach, out of his sliced off arms-reach. Slicy slicy slice. Almost up to the neck now!

I couldn't do anything but watch it. Watching the bladework gave me an odd feeling. Something most unusual creeped up from behind. I feel... hotter. My gut is tingling, and I'm a bit sweaty from this, to have to hide like this under a conveniently placed couch. Arle doesn't budge, which I'm even now still grateful for. I haven't felt anything like this in a long while. Even before we came to Italy. Is this fear? ...Or excitement? But what is there to be excited about, within the context of a torture scene? Perhaps I'm just afraid, afraid that this fate will befall me, afraid of the sight itself, afraid that I can't name this feeling washing over me. *shoink!*

He finally got to the throat, silencing the victim once and for all, sectioned currently into 30 parts. Unable to speak, and perhaps even breathe, his face flopped to the side limply, every feeble attempt at fear slowing down to be softer. But the face contortion is the same, one of pure despair.

Wonder what I'll tell to big sis after this? I thought. That I walked in on a modern day lingchi? It's reaching the climax, anyhow.

At last, the victim was complete. Chopped neatly into 39 parts, perfectly split and preserving the feelings of that of true terror. These two men had folded up the table after arranging his bits so that they wouldn't get squished weirdly, then picked up the thing that gave off the chemical stench, and went upstairs to leave. The other's corpse stood alone. This was the end. I had to know what caused this. That was the end of any chance of a peaceful life... But actually, I think the end of that was when Ane met that guy about 4 years ago back in Japan. Despair... If the despair bringers like them can be that strong, I think I'll join them. Yeah. I don't want Ane to end up this way.

______________________________________________________________

I'm stunned, I'm absolutely stunned. That even now, the vivid memory sticks out to me, two years after I walked in on that hellhole. I couldn't confess of this to anyone. Nero, or anyone else in La Squadra, not even Doppio... Suddenly, I'm reverted back to the sofa, some craptastic movie blaring on the TV, Aceto himself was sprawled on my lap. I need to get some air...

"I oughta go-" I hastily said, pushing him off of me. I'm absolutely spent, and I haven't even done anything. So I just blankly stared outside the open window.

"Paulla?" Was all he could say. That's all I could've got out of him, I zoned out for the rest of it.

These crystal clear memories... What good does it do for me?

[specialagentleonkennedy]

Umbrella Corporation file #27658401

Subject: The Study of The Precognitive Abilities of Leon S Kennedy.

File author: Dr. Alex Wesker.

(Warning: this file contains sensitive topics about mental illnesses, if you are uncomfortable reading such, please feel free to skip this file.)

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The human mind is a fascinating organ, fueled by neurons and chemical reactions that power the human body. However, it is a enigma. What gives it the ability to create thoughts and store memories? What tells it to help us fall asleep or wake up? All these questions have yet to be answered, but that's for another file.

----------------------------------

As stated previously in another file, Agent Kennedy has developed an enlarged pineal body wedged between the left and right hemispheres of the brain.

The pineal body is a gland that produces melatonin, however it has also been the center of theories regarding "psychic" abilities, or the Sixth Sense.

In theory, because a normal pineal body is only five millimeters, it does not have the strength to use the Sixth Sense and is only able to produce the melatonin chemical.

In addition, the pineal body in Agent Kennedy's brain is as large as a chicken egg, like the ones you see at the farmer's market. Therefore, Agent Kennedy has the ability to use the Sixth Sense.

----------------------------------

Agent Kennedy has so far six recorded Sixth Sense abilities.

•Telekinesis: the ability to control and manipulate objects with the mind.

•Telepathy: the ability to communicate to a single or multiple individuals with the mind.

•Mind Reading: the ability to read an individual's thoughts.

•Technokinesis: the ability to psychically manipulate electronic devices. (Televisions, radios, cellular phones, etc.)

•Psychometry: the ability to obtain information from a individual or object by touch.

•Mind Control: the ability to manipulate a individual's thoughts, emotions and behavior. (Ie, a puppet)(WARNING: THIS ABILITY IS UNSTABLE AND MUST ONLY BE USED IN DIRE SITUATIONS.)

----------------------------------

Despite the symbiotic relationship between Agent Kennedy and the parasite, and the rapid evolution of Kennedy's biology, there is one flaw; irreversible damage the cingulate gyrus.

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The cingulate gyrus is an arch-shaped convolution situated just above the corpus callosum. The frontal portion is termed the anterior cingulate gyrus (or cortex). A component of the limbic system, it is involved in processing emotions and behavior regulation. It also helps to regulate autonomic motor function.

It is theorized that when the pineal gland was warped by the Las Plagas parasite, it also caused damage to the cingulate gyrus. Therefore, Agent Kennedy now suffers from a form of Psychosis that mirror other psychiatric disorders.

These disorders include:

•PTSD.

•Body Dismorphic Disorder.

•Schizophrenia.

•Depression.

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What is interesting is if anything were to trigger these disorders, Agent Kennedy will physically mutate to his Feral State in defense, and will become extremely aggressive.

Agent Kennedy has also developed something extraordinary: Vectors.

Vectors are an ectoplasmic organ originating from the Las Plagas parasite and take the form of four elongated "Arms".

Though invisible to the naked eye, Vectors can be viewed via Infered Detection or Night Vision.

The Vectors can stretch a max of 25 feet and are capable of cutting through metal and concrete.

When viewed in Infered and Night Vision, the Vectors are described as having five digit hands, however the digits take the form of blackened boney claws.

-----------------------------------

Many treatments have proven unsuccessful to aid Agent Kennedy's mental health. However Kennedy has been offered healthy coping mechanisms and has done some of his own. These include:

•Music.

•Gloves and a face mask.

•A figit ring.

•A journal and pens.

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Agent Leon S. Kennedy is a remarkable human, having endured and adapted to the worst situations. And despite having flaws, I believe Agent Kennedy will be a valuable asset to Umbrella.

- Dr. Alex Wesker. END FILE.

-----------------------------------

[froblymoblypitterpatter]

Electric Feels:

Chapter 1; my demise under the neon glow

The neon sign buzzed like a transformer. Loud and haranguing me of its worth. Growing up, the path behind my parents house had power lines and a transformer station. I would quicken my pace when I thought too long on the currents that had been deliberately conducted through the lines. All that power right next to the flitting birds and unruly trees and lil old me. That was before The Fall.

This buzz was unsettling in equal measure. It hung above the bar door, a beacon to the folks lost in the dark. The only place to flaunt its wealth, with a pink neon sign in old cursive; Risky Ricks. I opened the heavy dark wood door. Smoke assaulted my nose, convulsing it into a few sneezes. I would adjust. Folks laughed obnoxiously. And by this point most were 3 sheets to the wind. It was 3am and no good could come of skulking at this hour.

Bardo perched like a bird on the bar stool. He puffed rings absently out into the space that inexplicably remained empty around him. It was after all packed. His eyes glazed from drink or fatigue; I could not tell. Bardo straightened and scanned, detecting my presence in the gloom of the shitty dive.

My gaze, I have been told is an unwelcome one. I have received commentary to "fuck off, creep", "take a picture", "what's your problem?" and the like. The returned looks with no commentary silently conveyed the same. It was not necessarily deliberate. It just seemed to happen. And with my inability to construct an amiable mask, I was told by my friend, "you got a resting bitch face, love". Thank you Riata.

Bardo motioned for me to come over, his now excitable movement having him order more spirits in dirty looking glasses. He sucked down the cigarette hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. "Ey Dox. Right on shedule" voice strained with the inhale.

I had been given Bardo's name in the Trade Market when it had been on Printh St. The trade guild cleverly found out what part of the power grid was down and set up shop in that area. It meant cameras were out and less risk of getting caught. Lea, who traded in sex work, passed the name to me. We met when I heard her screeching at a customer that was bailing on pay. I happened to be around the corner from the opportunistic leech when he was running. My arm rose just in time to curtain line the dick. Lea bought me dinner from a stall after digging her 5 inch heel in the man's chest, prying him for her coin. She spit on him when he only produced a metal chip worth 10 minutes of electric power. With a mouthful of flaky sausage roll she said "the blowy was worth at least 20 minutes of electric.

I wordlessly reached into my pocket to hand Bardo what he wanted. He stared down his nose into the slinky black bag and fondled its contents. He could not dump on the bar unless he was looking to be jumped. Copper trinkets such as bracelets and rings worth more than gold and platinum ever had. His tongue pressed in the side of his cheek as he put it into his worn leather bomber jacket.

"Seems enough. Not the thin shit, dullards will try and scam me with."

I huffed a laugh. I had met Bardo a couple times. A restless type by nature, he used the vernacular of a Thesaurus made scholar. And if he had one it was worth more than the bag of copper. I sighed. It was now or never. I swigged the spirits down, liquid screaming down my throat. Bardo had propped his elbow against the bar, a new cigarette lit, coming dangerously close to igniting his slickened hair. Something about his posture reminded me a child, curious and expectant. " What?" I drummed my fingers 4 times, counting each time and cracked my neck. " You know I always have to ask when I make these exchanges?"

I rolled my eyes. "No I don't know that. And isn't the saying the less you know the better one of your old proverbs?" He took another one of those soul sucking drags side eyeing me. "You seem well off?"

" I am resourceful." I answered flatly. "Where is the entrance?" I asked. I could not outright call it a Tear. People tuned into that word like Pavlov's dog, salivating for details.

He waited. A tactic I did not think he would employ when the other times he chattered like a song bird. "Financial woes of the family"

It was not a lie. It omitted details. When my brother had come back from work one day, looking half dead, I knew I had to do something. At 17 he was in over his head with a gang on the riverside and the jobs he was doing were going to get him killed. The river was the only water source in the city that had enough to generate electric. Because of that they made ties with the monsters beyond The Rupture. I shuddered taking another swig of the swill this place likely made in a dirty tub.

"Must be some debt." he trailed waiting for the more that would not come. I continued to tap all 5 fingers 4 times again. He watched the movement. " I like you Doxy." His cigarette sizzled as he dropped it into what little remained in the glass. " Not every client I have bargained with knows the depths of their choice. I hope you know yours."

I did. I had opened a physical bank account with what little currency I had from my meager data entry pay. I set it up in Kara, my older sister's name. I would send the pay I earned from whatever they assigned me over from the void beyond the rupture.

Bardo thumbed his nose and considered the surroundings. " And my other question I ask all the clients. Where were you and what were you doing when the Fall occurred?"

I laughed bitterly. " You are a nosy fucker." I continued the finger taps and nodded in resolve "St Anne's Hospital. Recovering from top surgery." Bardo cocked his head appraisingly. And surveyed my attire, or rather the lack of chest. It had been ten years. Ten fucking years since the whole world blacked out, save a few spots around the world. Spots with the most concentrated amounts of electricity and internet power. Tvs, jumbotrons, broadcast stations, car computers, computers, any gadget that could be accessed by AI lit up a few days after the darkness happened. In the chaos of looting, shooting, and other unspeakable atrocities, a voice announced themselves. One equally human as inhuman. It announced its rise in power, quite literally and that we would be a host world to "guests" from another world.

Guests implied they would leave at some point. But they never did. AI had sent the invitation out, beyond my understanding of space, and waved them over. We found out after the screens blacked out what was invited. The rupturing of space,in cities, towns, forrest etc, let out beings. Things that my mind could not make sense of. Years of fighting and study of the beings created a shaky agreement with AI, the Beings and us humans. It was a precarious balance that put us almost back into the dark ages. We were the serfs to the feudal lords.

"Where were you and what were you doing?" I repeated back. He inhaled his head knocking back. " The Green HighRise. Writing my most coveted screenplay." An almost useless trade today. However, Bardo seemed to collect stories and his relations with the beings was clearly a workable one because of his communication. " Lost it all. I am sure there is a proverb in there somewhere." he snorted. " Doxy, Doxy, Doxy." he sighed. " I pray to a nonexistent power that you do not live up to your name's sake in this realm." He slid from the chair, two fingers come hithered to follow. I adjusted my black raincoat and followed through the pressed bodies. The first time I met Bardo, he shook my hand and asked, "after a prostitute?" I was unimpressed. I had no idea what he spoke of and the way he so loosely used the shit term made me angry. "Your name" he continued. "it's archaic meaning is a prostitute or mistress or lover. Which in that day, all were synonymous" he chuckled at himself.

"No" I snapped. I was not going to give him any more information. My mother's last name was Doxy and her name would have died with her had she not named me it. And so it would die with me I thought morosely.

My fingers continued to twitch, and my neck needed to move. We had shuffled slowly into the back halls of the dark bar where the light was even dimmer. Wandering hands could fondle currency and body in equal measure. It was a treasure trove for the parasitic humans. Bardo nodded to the bouncer at the back door, steering us back out into the wet slicked streets of the city. I put my hood up enough cover part of me and enough for me to still hear any sounds around me. The absence of all light, scuffled listening hard to Bardo's swishing leather. A blue ambient light filled the small space around Bardo. He smirked over his shoulder as if to say "looky here". I rolled my eyes and followed closely. The light was strange. It looked like a vile full of neon blue moving liquid. It looked suspended in darkness when Bardo had it away from his body. A will o' the wisp, I thought. Leading me to my doom. It was Kara's face and Remy's face that brought more depth to each heel strike I made against crumbling pavement. Kara would be able to get them out of this area of the city, maybe even go to another city. There were transport wagons they could take. I would write them. My throat tightened. Now was not the time to lose my shit. Not ever now really. I let out a stuttering breath and watched the steam of it billow around me as we rounded the bend to the Silos.

Scuttling creatures could be heard around the grain elevators. How there was any grain left, surprised me. But likely being this close to a tear many of those scuttlers ended up dead on the other side.

Our footsteps echoed off the silo walls and graffiti covered its decrepit interior. I saw it then. Ahead was what looked like an angry pulsing gash. Light pulsed from beyond its undulating mouth. It only took up a fraction of the wall yet its presence filled the entire space. It was alive, I deduced. Bardo pushed the hand with the blue light into the moving creature. It suctioned around his forearm and lit up with blue light. The light cooled its temper and peeled back to a translucent hallway. On all sided of this glass like material a sparking purple space glittered. My heart skipped a few beats. Bardo stepped in and gestured to my entry. His maniacal grin foreshadowed the idiotic declaration he made "Doxy of the ruptured rapture come relinquish thyself in the renewing rites of this realm"

"Jesus Christ" I humorlessly muttere,reluctantly took his hand and stepped in.

[proxiware]

Proxies for Data Collection: Enhancing Data Gathering Efforts

In today's data-driven world, the importance of accurate and efficient data collection cannot be overstated. Businesses and researchers rely on vast amounts of data to inform decisions, optimize strategies, and gain a competitive edge. One tool that has become essential for effective data collection is the proxy server. Proxies for Data Collection This article will explore how proxies can enhance data gathering efforts, providing a comprehensive overview of their benefits and applications.

What Are Proxies?

A proxy server acts as an intermediary between a user's device and the internet. When you use a proxy, your requests are routed through the proxy server, which then fetches the requested data and returns it to you. This process masks your IP address, allowing for greater anonymity and privacy online.

Benefits of Using Proxies for Data Collection

Enhanced Anonymity: Proxies help maintain user anonymity by masking IP addresses. This is particularly beneficial for researchers and businesses conducting competitive analysis or market research, as it prevents detection and potential blocks by target websites.

Access to Geographically Restricted Data: Many websites limit access based on geographic location. By using proxies located in different regions, users can bypass these restrictions and collect data from sources that would otherwise be unavailable.

Improved Speed and Performance: Proxies can help optimize data collection processes by distributing requests across multiple servers. This reduces the risk of throttling or blocking by websites, leading to faster data retrieval.

Data Scraping: For businesses that rely on data scraping to gather information from competitors or market trends, proxies are indispensable. They allow users to collect large volumes of data without facing IP bans or rate limiting.

Better Data Accuracy: By using multiple proxies, users can cross-reference data collected from various sources. This helps ensure the accuracy and reliability of the data gathered.

Applications of Proxies in Data Collection

Market Research: Companies can gather insights on competitor pricing, product availability, and customer sentiment by scraping data from e-commerce sites and social media platforms.

SEO Monitoring: SEO professionals can use proxies to monitor search engine rankings and website performance without the risk of being flagged for excessive requests.

Ad Verification: Advertisers can use proxies to ensure their ads are displayed correctly across different locations and platforms, verifying that they reach the intended audience.

Travel and Hospitality: Companies in the travel industry can gather data on flight prices, hotel availability, and customer reviews by accessing various travel websites anonymously.

Choosing the Right Proxy Provider

When selecting a proxy provider for data collection, it’s essential to consider factors such as speed, reliability, customer support, and the diversity of proxy locations offered. Proxiware, for instance, offers a robust solution tailored for businesses and researchers looking to enhance their data collection processes. With a wide range of proxy options and exceptional customer service, they stand out as a reliable choice.

Conclusion

Proxies are invaluable tools for efficient data collection, offering numerous benefits that enhance the accuracy and effectiveness of gathering information. By leveraging the power of proxies, businesses and researchers can unlock new insights, stay ahead of the competition, and make informed decisions based on reliable data. Proxies for Data Collection Whether you are conducting market research, monitoring SEO, or scraping data for analysis, integrating proxies into your data collection strategy is a smart move for the modern data-driven landscape.

[asia2023animationgirl]

@jamalwhite12 I made a part 2 of The Mystery Kids!

Chapter 2: The Tiki Monster Sightings

The morning sun peeked through the windows of the Luau Cabana Cafe, casting a warm glow over the bustling group of friends. Valerie stood at the center, her eyes shining with determination as she addressed the team.

"Alright, Mystery Kids, we've got a mystery to solve! Those Tiki Monsters aren't going to catch themselves." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the eager faces of her friends. "Let's split up and see what we can find. Jason, you and Spot take the beach. Kip and Kenya, you two go explore the forest. Sydney, see what you can dig up at the local shops. Lizzy, you're with me – we're going to talk to the locals and see what they know about these Tiki Monsters."

Jason grinned, already itching to get started. "You got it, Val! Come on, Spot, let's go sniff out some clues!" The playful boy and his loyal dog bounded out the door, ready to embark on their seaside adventure.

Kip adjusted her glasses, her mind already whirring with possibilities. "Kenya, this is the perfect opportunity to put our nature skills to the test. Who knows what we might discover in the forest?" Kenya nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing as she followed her sister out the door.

Sydney flashed a confident smile. "Time to put my fashion detective skills to work! I bet I can find some stylish leads at the boutiques." With a wink, she sashayed out, already mentally planning her outfit for the day.

Valerie turned to Lizzy, who was practically vibrating with excitement. "Alright, Lizzy, let's see what the locals have to say about these Tiki Monsters. I have a feeling they might know more than they're letting on."

Lizzy nodded eagerly. "Hai, Valerie-san! I can't wait to learn more about the Hawaiian folklore. Maybe we'll even find some clues to help us solve this mystery!"

As the group split up, each character embraced their unique strengths and personalities, ready to uncover the truth behind the Tiki Monster sightings.

On the sun-drenched beach, Jason and Spot bounded along the shoreline, their footprints leaving a trail in the sand. Spot's nose twitched as he caught a scent, and he let out an excited bark, leading Jason towards a small cave.

"What do you got there, buddy?" Jason asked, peering into the dimly lit space. His eyes widened as he spotted a strange carving on the wall, depicting a mysterious figure with glowing eyes. "Whoa, this must be a clue! Nice work, Spot!"

The duo carefully explored the cave, searching for any other signs of the Tiki Monsters. As they ventured deeper, the air grew cooler, and Jason couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

Meanwhile, in the lush forest, Kip and Kenya navigated the winding trails, their senses heightened. Kip paused, bending down to examine a peculiar footprint in the soft earth.

"Kenya, look at this. It's too large to be a normal animal's print. And see how the toes are spread out?" She traced the outline with her finger, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Kenya leaned in, her eyes wide with wonder. "Wow, Kip, you're right! It's like a giant's foot or something. Do you think the Tiki Monsters made this?"

Kip nodded, her mind racing. "It's certainly a possibility. Let's keep exploring and see if we can find any other clues."

The sisters continued their trek, their curiosity piqued by the mysterious footprint.

At the bustling local market, Sydney strolled through the vibrant stalls, her keen eyes scanning for any fashion-forward leads. As she browsed a display of handcrafted Tiki masks, a friendly vendor approached her.

"Aloha, young lady! Interested in our traditional Tiki masks, are you?" the vendor asked, his weathered face creasing in a warm smile.

Sydney nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! They're so stylish. Do you know anything about the legends behind them?"

The vendor's expression shifted, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Ah, the Tiki Masks... they're not just for decoration, you know. The Tiki Monsters are said to be the spirits of our ancestors, protectors of the land. But lately, they've been causing quite a ruckus, stealing artifacts and scaring the tourists."

Sydney's eyes widened. "Tiki Monsters? That's exactly what we've been hearing about! Do you know where we might find them?"

The vendor shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid I can't say for certain. The Tiki Monsters are elusive, and their hiding places are well-guarded secrets. But I'd be careful if I were you, young lady. Those spirits can be unpredictable."

Sydney thanked the vendor and hurried back to the Luau Cabana Cafe, her mind racing with the new information she had gathered.

At the cafe, Valerie and Lizzy spoke with the owner, Lani, who listened intently to their questions about the Tiki Monsters.

"Ah, yes, the Tiki Monsters," Lani said, her brow furrowed with concern. "They've been causing quite a stir around Honolulu. I've heard stories of them stealing sacred artifacts and frightening tourists. Some say they're the spirits of our ancestors, angry at the way our land has been treated."

Valerie's expression hardened with determination. "We have to do something about this. Those Tiki Monsters can't just be allowed to run wild, causing trouble for everyone."

Lizzy nodded, her eyes shining with understanding. "Hai, Valerie-san. But perhaps there is more to the Tiki Monsters than we know. In my culture, we believe that spirits can be misunderstood, and that it's important to approach them with respect and open minds."

Lani smiled warmly at Lizzy. "You're a wise one, Lizzy. The Tiki Monsters may be mischievous, but they're also protectors of our land. If we can find a way to understand them, maybe we can find a solution that benefits everyone."

Valerie considered Lizzy's words, her expression softening. "Alright, team. Let's regroup and share what we've learned. I have a feeling this mystery is going to take all of us working together to solve."

As the friends reunited at the cafe, each with their own discoveries, the stage was set for an adventure that would test their courage, their teamwork, and their understanding of the Tiki Monsters' true nature.