#I am curious as to what my algorithm would show me though. But not enough to suffer through it anymore tbh

[valentinaonthemoon]

I was on tiktok for a few months in 2020 and I genuinely didn't care for it at all; uninstalled the app and my account. Literally every scandal / bad take now comes from it. I do not care about the dances, and the stupid memes from it are probably on Instagram at the same time. It wasted my phone's battery way too quickly. All I miss are the silly filters. Should I make an account again?

[no-gorms]

Have a snippet of a robot!Tony thing that might stay a ficlet or might become a prologue for a thing, I don’t know yet:

(Steve & Tony, but also pre-Steve/Tony, 1000+ words, canon divergent, alternate Avengers 2012 setting)

The new suit fits well. Too well. It barely feels like a combat suit at all, settling lighter and easier against Steve’s skin than his recent wardrobe acquisitions of plaid and leather jackets.

Steve’s alone in this hellicarrier holding room, so he stretches his arms and mimes throwing the shield, noting the way the material pulls on the inside of his arms when he does so.

It’ll do, he supposes. It’s flexible enough, Coulson seems the kind of guy who knows what he’s doing, and all of SHIELD’s agents wear similar form-fitting suits, so they must offer decent enough protection. Though they get away with a less eye-catching color combination. The Captain America colors may have been the point back in the day – it made sure that Steve was the main target and allowed the others more freedom of movement – he’s not sure that’s relevant today.

Everything’s brighter, louder, faster in the twenty-first century.

Maybe that’s why his new suit’s been brightened up, making it almost as striking as those old posters. It’s another way that they’re catching him up with the world, on top of everything else – all the files, the briefings, the awkward conversations that have been trying to get him out of his SHIELD-assigned accommodations.

Steve’s so deep in thought that he barely hears the door opening. It’s only the clang of metal boots in approach that has him looking up.

“Iron Man,” Steve says. “Fury didn’t say you were coming.”

“Fury only acts like he knows everything.” Iron Man’s voice isn’t as deep as Steve thought it would be. The files didn’t capture the startling sheen of the metal armor, either, with its red and gold glinting like burnished mirrors with every step he takes into the room.

Suddenly Steve doesn’t feel so self-conscious about his own suit.

“I admit, I was curious,” Iron Man says. “Wanted to see if it was really you that they pried out of the ice.”

“You want to gawk, do it to my face,” Steve snaps.

“I am, champ.” The armor’s face plate pops up, like the lid of a tin can. Inside, there’s more metal – wires, gears, bits of machinery that Steve doesn’t have the word for, even if he might have known their equivalent back in the day. All of the helmet’s innards are moving, clicking, and flashing like small lightbulbs – an engine.

Steve stares. This is a world in which exist town-sized vehicles that can fly, written messages travel instantaneously across the globe, and where playback recordings appear almost as real as the real thing. What’s a walking, talking, fighting robot on top of all that? Nothing, really. Iron Man, the mysterious hero who saved Malibu from Obadiah Stane’s terrorist attack, and a potential Avenger on top of that, is a machine. Why not.

“Oh,” Steve says. “That wasn’t in the files.”

The faceplate comes back down, and Steve looks at it again with fresh eyes. Iron Man’s face – gold with red accents to mark the cheekbones, jaw and forehead. That’s his actual face, with stylized eyes and a mouth, giving just enough detail for the human eye to focus on when conversing with him.

“It’s not,” Iron Man agrees. “Easier for people to believe there’s a human being in here.”

“Romanoff called you Tony, so I thought that, too.”

“That is my name,” Iron Man says. “Well, an acronym. Well, a short-form of an acronym.”

“Anthony?” Steve says, startled. Obadiah Stane worked for Stark Industries, didn’t he? “As in Artificial Neural Technology Haptics—do you remember me?”

“What?”

“Howard Stark,” Steve presses. “He showed me this computing machine he was working on, ANTHONY, it could only do some basic mathematical projections at the time, I barely understood it, but he spoke so much about the dreams he had for it. That it would be able to read and answer and react – an electro-mechanical intelligence.”

“Yes,” Iron Man says slowly, as though bewildered by the turn of the conversation. “That was me. But that was long before I became self-aware. I don’t remember much of that time.”

“Oh.”

“He used me to search for you, though,” Iron Man says. “Those were some of my first proper algorithms, but I didn’t have enough computing power at the time to do it properly, and then I got pulled for other tasks. In the end Fury beat me, I guess.”

Steve has the brief, unnecessary thought that maybe they should’ve just left him in the ice with the Tesseract. He quickly chases the thought away, hoping that it isn’t visible on his face, not that he knows the first damn thing about how well futuristic robots like Iron Man can read people who interact with them. Probably best to assume the worst, and recover from it the best he can.

“Right.” Steve puts on a smile and offers a hand. “Steve, nice to meet you.”

Iron Man looks at Steve’s hand.

Steve has another flash of panicked dismay – do people still shake hands in the future? Is it too invasive now, or too old-fashioned? He knows he shook Fury’s hand the other day, but Fury might’ve just been indulging him and let it slide.

“Tony.” Iron Man accepts Steve’s hand and shakes it once, firm and humanlike. The metal glove is cool and the palm strongly convex, but it’s not unpleasant to the touch. “Back at you.”

“I suppose we should see Fury now?” Steve asks.

“Sure, yeah.” Iron Man watches as Steve collects the shield from its casing and then says, almost in a rush: “Sorry, I really don’t remember ‘meeting’ you. I only have the files Howard fed me.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says, shaking his head. “It’s nice to see that you’ve come a long way from a warehouse of cables.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Iron Man falls into step next to Steve as they leave the hold. “You’re a long way from data on a page, too, uh… Cap. Do I call you Cap?”

“If you want to. But Steve’s fine.”

“I’m gonna call you Cap.”

Steve slants a look at Iron Man’s face. There’s nothing to read off of it, but it just makes the nuances of the accompanying voice all the more pronounced. The teasing curiosity feels pointed, as though he’s trying to read Steve, too, and any conclusions to be had can be found in what Steve only does here and now, as opposed to what he might have read in files.

“Like I said,” Steve says easily, “if you want to.”

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

i am so curious now, how did aftg get you into bsd?

Oh my.

*record scratch*

You might be wondering how I ended up in this situation.

So it’s not like it grabbed me by an ankle and threw me right into bsd (however it would be just as fitting), but it set off the weirdest plan I’ve ever made. Buckle up, because by the end of this story, you will have lost some brain cells. Also a slight spoiler warning, though I won’t say any names. More under the cut, because it’s quite a long story actually.

So it all begins one random evening in June 2021. I’ve just finished heartstopper like 10 minutes ago and now I’m bored to the moon and back. I think well I’d like to read a book so I check my to-read-later list and there it is. All for the game. Alrigthy, now I’ll be set for at least 3 days, I think and start the first volume. I finish it at midnight, but I want more so I immediately start the second one. At 2 am I fall asleep. I wake up at like 10 am and I finish the second book. I take my dog on a walk, come back and start the third book. By this time my brain is 100% liquid, but it’s the most fun I’ve had in months. I take one more break for a late lunch and some shopping, come back home and finish the last book.

You might think it’s very random like girl why are you telling this story but it’s important for you to know I’ve never read a whole trilogy faster. Like 3 books in 26 hours?? Idk how people do it on a daily basis, I felt like my brain was done for it. So that was special and idk what kind of hormones my brain started producing but I was like I NEED MORE. But of course the trilogy was over and the extra materials weren’t all that interesting, and I ran out of fics to read in like a month. Yet I wasn’t going to give up on my endorfin rush (or whatever it was) so I was like I need to make a plan. Let’s do it strategically.

I made it my summer mission to find something that’ll give me the same emotional experience as aftg, which I call the Rush.

There were 4 important parts of this plan:

people seemed to be comparing this trilogy to anime like the whole industry, so I was like I should probably look for an anime (I’ve seen a few anime before so it wasn’t that big of a potential change)

exy is a sport, so maybe a sport anime? Something set in school?

there are lgbt+ themes, so maybe I’m just in a mood for an lgbt+ story (like always so nothing new there)

there’s mafia – funnily enough I said nah I had watched jojo part 5 before and it didn’t give me that rush, so why would another story with mafia do so (and look where I am now that’s irony, a literal irony)

And so my search began.

I started with a book and it wasn’t it. It was a good book but nowhere near the level of the Rush. Now I was sure it HAD TO be an anime. There was simply no other option (told you, no brain cells were used during this whole process). Funnily enough I went straight to jojo part 4 for idk what reason. Like idk what prompted me to go there but I did. Then I remembered I was supposed to be checking out some sport anime and I went for Haikyuu which gave me some rush but after finishing it wasn’t really lingering, so I continued my search while finishing jojo part 4. As I finished Haikyuu, my instagram began to be flooded by different fanarts and memes, and then I saw a fanart of Langa from sk8 the infinity (thanks algorithm, you did well) and I was like waaaait I've heard about this show. So I sat down to watch it and binged it in one sitting. And I thought yeah that’s it, that’s the Rush. But wait a minute, it’s too short, oh no the Rush is leaving me!!

Conclusion: I need something longer.

So I went back to jojo part 4, which again was a blast to watch (it made me appreciate jojo in all its quirkiness), and it reminded me that dio is a vampire and as you may know, I like vampires. This in turn reminded me that vanitas no carte was supposed to be coming out around this time. So I went to google vanitas no carte but as the first season was still ongoing I was like, you know what, I’ll wait until it finishes before deciding what to do with it. But instagram kept giving me spoilers and I saw people comparing gojo (from jjk, which I also watched in hope to get the Rush but as you can imagine it didn’t click this way) to vanitas and some dude called dazai who was from bsd. I was like hmm bsd reminds me of something else, but I’m a curious goose, so I went to google it, very scared, and it turned out that bsd is actually an anime about a detective agency and not what I expected it to be, and I was like… yeah whatever I don’t care, that's not what I'm looking for.

Now I was sure the rush was gone, I’ve been defeated by my own hubris. I flew too close to the sun and nothing was going to compare. So in that mood I went to tumblr to search for some franz kafka quotes because this man just always gets it. And then I see some people talking about a new chapter and I’m like a new chapter of what exactly?? Hasn’t kafka been dead for like 80 years or something?? A posthumous release? And what is an asagiri? A title? So a googled it and surprise, surprise! I see bsd AGAIN. I’m like you know what I don’t care anymore, people say that the characters are very pretty, so I might as well watch it just to forget about the failure that’s been my very-much-unhiged-with-zero-chance-of-working plan and then I'll go back to my search.

I turn on the first episode and I’m like waaait it’s actually good?? Like yeah silly, but way better than I expected and I feel the mutual understanding between me and Atsushi grow, so that's VERY GOOD. I see the opening and the ending at the end and I’m like oooh do they have any meaningful connections to the plot, because it seems like it? Who are these people? So instead of watching the second episode I decided to do a quick research consisting on going to the wiki and trying to figure out who is that emo dude that seems to take half of the ending for himself and who I'm probably not gonna like (jokes on me, oh jokes on me). And then I see his description with the undead written under the status. I’m like undead?? in what way?? So I start reading about him more and I see that he’s apparently a vampire. And I go WHOA NOBODY TOLD ME THERE ARE VAMPIRES HERE. And so I went back to watching bsd, the Rush came back and it’s been here ever since. I thought it was going to go away, so that's why I made this account to kinda keep myself busy not to lose it, but I still thought it was going to be lost again for some time. And now it’s still going strong and even has a friend in the form of the jojo part 6 Rush, so everything worked out perfectly in the end.

And that’s the story how my dumbest plan produced better results than I could have ever imagined.

And if you're wondering how long this mission lasted - 6 weeks. Literally 6 weeks.

[a quick info: all the things I mentioned are fantastic and I highly recommend them. Rush or no Rush, they are wonderful and I'm a fan of them all!]

[fy-2pm]

[TRANS] 2PM's Junho 'ESQUIRE' Interview

Summer 2021, Drunk in Junho

The hot and gentle story Junho and I shared with "W by Windsor"

Q: The book "If Our Language is Whiskey" by Haruki Murakami is chosen for the shooting with "W by Windsor" (Hereinafter "W"). It's the perfect combination for a "Whiskey trip" to Scotland and Ireland with the 100% Scottish "W."

JH: This will be interesting. I like reading books. I've been reading a lot lately.

Q: What kind of book do you usually read?

JH: I don't have a favorite reading here. I try to read different kinds of genre and not just focus on a specific genre. Recently, I am into how to handle diseases and death. I read a variety of books. It feels good to know something. If I know about a certain topic, when we talk, we can share our opinions. Even while I was in the army, I don't want to miss the trend so I read more at that time.

Q: You read more during your army. Did anything change since you were discharged?

JH: It's been more than 100 days since my discharge and it's been really hectic. These were the busy days that I've missed, but I managed to adjust really quickly without any hard feelings. It feels like there is no empty space. I don't think I have changed a lot but I think my mindset has changed a bit. Comparing with the past, I want to treat everything more leisurely. I don't want to feel the rush, the struggle or under attack. I just want to do things step by step. That kind of feeling? I think the people around me can see this feeling too.

Q: That's right. 2PM members said "Junho has a hot temper"

JH: When I say I will do something, I will do it right away. I've achieved a lot because of this personality. However, as I look back to myself, there are times when I think if I should have thought about a little more.

Q: During the "Army hiatus" you received a nickname 'My House Junho'. When you find out, how did you react?

JH: It was at autumn 2019 when I just started serving. Because I really miss the stage, I've been looking up 2PM and my own videos. I could see that the number of views for "My House Junho" has increased gradually. I just thought, 'This will come to a stop soon'. It's like an event.

Q: It's a video but there are some interesting comments. It feels like a playground.

JH: It's becoming like a community. In there, it feels like you are competing with each other to see who can write something more interesting. It's amazing. One of the most memorable commend said, "I only realize what is spring after the flowers fell." It sounds sad but feels good. (Note: This is a common Korean phrase meaning I only realized something or someone is good after he/she it's gone)

Q: Spring has come again. You have come again.

JH: It means that we were like flowers. But ironically, I don't think we are gone yet.

Q: The more you think about it, the more touching this is.

JH: I think "My House" received a lot of love not because of algorithm or luch, but because fans have real interest in the song. Just by sharing the video, clicking to view and leaving comments, there are all hard work by fans. This is making it fun and we came across a situation where we can do this all over again. Thank you very much.

Q: It becomes a famous "Icon of Hard Work" and it's seeing the light.

JH: For whatever it is, my personality is to try to achieve it. At one point in time, I thought making an effort itself is difficult. After living like this for a long time, I got used to it and now, I don't think of it as making an effort anymore. I've been working hard on my exercise and die but this just become part of my daily life. But I do think about, 'How much long do I have to do this?' (Laugh).

Q: I think you're a person who will not give up. Junho played the role of Dong-Woo in the movie <Twenty>, where he gave up his dream and said, "Do you know how hard it i to give up?" Not giving up is hard but giving up is hard, too.

JH: I haven't really thought about give up. But if I do give up, I am going to give it up entirely so that I won't remember what happened. To the extreme where is either all or nothing. This is why I don't give up anymore. If you give up something, all that you have done is like nothing had happened.

Q: Even for giving up perfectionism.

JH: With this personality, it used to make me feel really tired. People around me must be tired, too. At one point in time, I feel this is just the way it is. There is nothing wrong with being perfect. But now, I think it's okay to be imperfect. I came to the realization that I cannot do everything by myself. There are also many people who are helping me.

Q: From "Best Idols" to everyone's "Adult Idols". When it comes to adult, you cannot skip the alcohol.

JH: I can't drink that often because I have to take care of my body with exercise and diet. But I do enjoy it. These days, I cannot just drink freely outside, so I will take a sip at home. Drink a little bit of Whiskey and it will make you fall asleep comfortably. I enjoy my alone time like that at home. I used to think coffee and alcohol are bitter. "Why would I drink that?" Now that I know the taste of coffee, I bought a coffee machine. I am also collecting vintage wine. I buy them and give them to people around me as gifts. Let's say you want to drink beer just as cold as coke. For Whiskey, you pour it out to enjoy the taste and aroma. I don't understand this taste before. I thought it was for just people who enjoy strong flavors.

Q: Knowing the taste of coffee and alcohol is like a symbol of adulthood. Especially for Whiskey, that's like the preservation of a mature adult. Actually, I go a little worried when I saw an article saying Junho is not good at drinking. I wonder if you will go well with "W."

JH: Right, I haven't talk much about alcohol. There were articles like "He could only take one glass of beer" or "He went home so early" for the after parties. I think the fans know that I am a weak drinker but it's not bad for them to think I am cute because of that. But I am not that crazily weak! (Laughs)

Q: There's this article where you said "I usually drink well but I refused to drink at an after party yesterday because of thinks interview". So I thought, "Being a weak drinker self-management is on another level"

JH: For sure, if you have a schedule, you have to have some self control. Even if you drink, just enough to feel good. But even if I drink and go to sleep, I feel refreshed the next day. I don't know if it's because my liver is still in good condition, but I don't usually suffer from hangovers.

Q: Many people say that you will suffer less hangovers drinking Whiskey than other alcohol. I think "W" is good for people like Junho who enjoys drinking comfortably.

JH: I think "W" is especially refreshing. It has a good aroma and it's smooth to swallow. Comparing with other alcohol, Whiskey seems to have a higher entry level but you can have "W" easily. Actually, it has a lower alcohol level than normal Whiskey. During today's filming, I can feel the aroma and I've been sipping little by little. Maybe that's why I feel good now (Laugh).

Q: What food will go well with "W"?

JH: They often have nuts and chocolate with Whiskey but i would like to recommend tteokbokki. It's not the spicy tteokbokki but the one with beef and sweet soy sauce. You may think "What do you mean by having tekkbokki with Whiskey?" Just do it. It goes well together.

Q: How do you usually drink Whiskey?

JH: It all depends on my mood or situation. I think you find your own way that suits you, so you can drink comfortably. If you want to go to sleep quickly, drink it in a small glass in one shot. If you want to watch a movie, drink it cold with ice. I've been drinking Whiskey with ice and that got me interested in big block of ice. I even looked up YouTube videos where bar mixologist carved some ice balls. I even thought about buying an ice ball maker.

Q: It's all about "equipment" (Laugh)

JH: Even for coffee, I started not knowing anything but I was curious. I bought coffee beans and did the grinding myself. But the grinding size is too big so I went to study how to make it smaller. It became more fun. The scope of Whiskey is even wider when you have experience the different between having Whiskey on its own or having it with it.

Q: In JTBC's <Knowing Bros> when talked about the reverse popularity with "My House Junho" Wooyoung said "It's all because of Junho's virtue. Junho is very careful in everything so that he won't hurt the members. He will sacrifice for the team" I wonder why he feels like this.

JH: I am working as 2PM and as an actor, so all my schedules need to go well together. There are times when drama comes, so I have to turn down 2PM activities. I think that can happen but it's normal. As an actor, it's difficult to do other things when you are involve in a drama. Even though, I can multi-task my schedules, it's still a problem I need to solve. So even when I don't have much sleep, I don't want to show I'm tired. I always want to make myself feel good.

Q: I think 2PM's charms are "bonds between members" and "consistency". Both sounds easy but it's difficult to do. How did you keep up?

JH: Consideration is the most important and you should never think selfishly. We have been together for 14 years, so one of us could have done that to another person. We weren't adults when we started, so we are always talking to each other and still is today. Our tastes, our personalities and what we want to do are all different. For sure, we compromise and we give in for others but we became more considerate. This is when you know this friend is so kind and considerate. I think this is similar to what Wooyoung said.

Q: Becoming a senior idol

JH: Over the years, we have accumulated lots of experienced and our fields were being broaden. I think we can be a good example with how we stayed together and continue to work as singers. "Bukae" is the trend these days (Note: Bukae means a second job)

Q: Do you any advice fro the juniors?

JH: Umm, let's do well? (Laugh). There's a big difference between good and bad examples. Always watch what you say. Always watch what you do. I hope we can promote happily with the juniors.

Q: There's this "daily energy". It's the energy that shape your daily life with small changes. What shapes Junho's daily life?

JH: Before the schedules start, I must get up. By doing so, it already shape my day.

Q: The process of being fully occupied and working hard is beautiful. Of course, the results are often great. "W" is also trying to maintain the brand's reputation by carefully selecting the undiluted Scotch Whiskey in Scotland. Junho, I wonder what effort you are making to keep o

JH: And I try not to sleep during my schedules unless I'm very tired. I want to do everything with a clear mind. When you wake up, you're dazing. There was a time when we had schedules at Seoul, Daejeon, Daegu and Busan in different broadcast programs. There was a time when I couldn't sleep on a bed for 2 weeks while we prepared for the end year ceremonies. I was sleeping in the moving car. It was all fun memory but at some point in time, we didn't know how it all went because it was so hectic. I really regret it because I don't want to forget as much as I can. That's why I became interested in photography and videography. I bought a camera and a camcorder to record.

Q: You've been busy since 17. I wonder if you have gone through adolescence.

JH: Of course, I did right? (Laughs). On the other hand, my parents worked in double jobs, so my realization of their importance came a little early. My dad worked as a sea navigator. I didn't see him for 6-12 months so I miss him even more. When I was in elementary school, I went to my mom's workplace and called out to her until she answered me and I cried "I miss you." Now that I think about it, I wonder how busy they were.

Q: The process of being fully occupied and working hard is beautiful. Of course, the results are often great. "W" is also trying to maintain the brand's reputation by carefully selecting the undiluted Scotch Whiskey in Scotland. Junho, I wonder what effort you are making to keep your own color.

JH: I like things that are natural and light. I want to be a person who doesn't provoke or irritate, just like a piece of paper. Sometimes, it can be hard to keep it plain because I have my hot temper and fire but having this mindset keeps me neutralized. In <I Live Alone>, I used the moktak and this is one of my effort to do so. It's relaxing and makes me calmer.

Korean to English translation @JLML718 (Twitter)

[sinceileftyoublog]

Wobbly Interview: Going for Happy

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Thurston Moore Ensemble/Negativland band member Jon Leidecker has been releasing electronic music under the moniker Wobbly for over two decades now. In Chicago experimental label Hausu Mountain, he seems to have found kindred spirits, matching his far out idiosyncrasies. 2019′s Monitress and its follow-up, Popular Monitress, which came out earlier this month, are albums about and by machines, as Leidecker ran his music into pitch trackers and synth apps on his phones and tablets, embracing the errors and randomness that were produced along the way. While the source material on Monitress was mostly improvised, the songs on Popular Monitress are more structured and composed, resulting in songs like “Authenticated Krell”, which follows a comparatively clean synth arpeggio before being enveloped by texture, or “Lent Foot”, where the various instruments trail each other. It’s remarkable just how familiar certain sounds are even if not traditionally instrumental ones, like the typewriter clacks of “Illiac Ergodos 7!” or the zooming notes of the thumping title track. Blurring the lines between what’s instrument and what’s not, and even further, what’s composed music and what’s not, Popular Monitress is a defining statement for both Leidecker and Hausu.

I was able to ask Leidecker about various songs on the album and their inspirations. Read his answers below!

Since I Left You: You chose to write more structured songs this time around before running them through the pitch tracker. Do those nuggets of recognizable structures make the final product all the more disorienting?

Jon Leidecker: Hopefully! On both albums, the main thing is keeping the focus on just how live those pitch trackers are. It’s Monitress as long as you can hear how they’re listening. For years, it was strictly a piece for live performance--I needed to be improvising myself, and able to respond instantly, to really underline just how spontaneous the machine responses are. So the first record tried to keep more of that sense of flow. Large stretches of it are simply baked down from stereo recordings of concerts & radio performances of it. Overdubbing more layers of trackers seemed legal, as long all the voices were following that one original sound.

Of course, when you play a tune, something composed or even quantized, it definitely becomes easier to hear what they’re doing. The exact same code running on each phone will respond in very different ways to the same source audio, and you get a chorus of individual voices. They play a lot of wrong notes, but oddly, if you feed the trackers lots of consonant, major chords, it stops being dissonance, and you can tell they’re going for happy. You hear these weird things, trying to sing in unison, and..the result is just pure delight. Weirdly emotional! What’s a mistake? What’s music?

SILY: How did you come up with the song titles? For instance, is there anything particularly Appalachian about "Appalachian Gendy"?

JL: They’re mostly mashed up references to landmark works in the field of generative & algorithmic composition, from the 50’s up to the early 90’s. The recent push of stories on AI musical tools seems to be about automation and labor-saving, but the field of how to develop tools for more creative ends goes back all the way to Bebe and Louis Barron going to the Macy Conferences on Cybernetics and designing their first self-oscillating feedback circuit.

So while my tracks aren’t really in the musical style of the works they reference--something like  “Appalachian Gendy”, which sprung up a fantasy Spiegel/Xenakis tribute, got paired to that stompdown track, and once it did, I added a solo on iGendyn.

SILY: To what extent is your music here inspired by the inner workings of the brain?

JL: Once you get a grip on just how simply neurons and synapses interact, how reassuringly physical thinking is, the electronic music I’ve always found most inspiring often involve feedback systems, self-playing devices, generative music, things that learn rather than settle. Music that helps you model thought. The whole East Coast/West Coast 60’s divide in synth design boiled down to Moog reducing your options until you could easily dial in what you already know you want, and Buchla designing uncertainty machines to be networked together until they approach the complexity of an unknown brain.

SILY: "Synaptic Padberg" and "Every Piano" have moments of recognizable instruments as opposed to alien instruments (strings and piano, respectively). Was that just a product of the errors/randomness of the music-making, or purposeful?

JL: It's supposed to sound orchestral, so I hit my Mellotron and Chamberlin apps pretty hard with this piece. Not like anything remains plausibly real once they're getting hammered by the trackers. That is a real grand piano, however: me playing the tune at SnowGhost Music in Montana. Brett Allen deserves an engineering credit, but I also wanted the first listen to make you wonder.

SILY: There's almost a funky rhythm to "Motown Electronium". Do you envision folks dancing to this record?

JL: Would have been plain wrong to put that title on an unworthy beat. What would a room full of people dancing to this even be like? Maybe in Baltimore.

SILY: Do you think "Training Lullaby" is what a computer trying to write a lullaby would sound like?

JL: Not that relaxing, is it? That’s ten seconds pulled from a five minute live improvisation, just a little burst of fury in the middle. Which I’ve heard enough now that I can sing along to it; so now, for me, it is calming.

I finally had to admit to myself that I’m a fan of the OpenAI Jukebox stuff. It’s right at that stage where their results are still primitive enough to remain a little mysterious. All the context and relationships intrinsic to what humans call music is irrelevant to those GANs. They don’t need culture to make music, they just need waveforms. What does it tell us that simple pattern analysis and brute number crunching on a large enough data set can produce those sounds? They’re training us. I have twelve hours of their Soundcloud dump ripped to my phone, and I play it a lot, though I wouldn’t play it for anyone under four. Can definitely sing along to some of the weirder ones by now.

SILY: How did you approach the order of tracks on the record? I'm struck by, for instance, the chaos of "Grossi Polyphony" following the comparative lull of "Every Piano".

JL: Just trying to show the range, and keep the surprises coming. Perpetual variety becomes monotony so quickly, so there is a very careful balancing act to play between shorter and longer tracks. I like a record where on first listen, any new section that begins, you feel like there are no guarantees how long it’ll last, eight seconds or eight minutes. Even things that sound like they should be songs: no guarantees. I still remember the first time I heard The Faust Tapes as a teenager.

SILY: Did you actually use musical dice to write "Wurfelspiel"?

JL: “Wurfelspiel” is just name-dropping Mozart’s generative piece--again, a real piano, but no musical dice involved.

SILY: The beats towards the end of the album--the pseudo hip-hop of "Cope By Design", techno of "Dusthorn Sawpipe", krautrock of "Help Desk"--seem to me to be far more propulsive than anything else here. Do you see a connection between those tracks?

JL: The album hits you with all these miniatures in the middle to keep things moving, and those three are the last little barrage of them before the shift into the final stretch with the longer, more hypnotic pieces. Can be tough to sequence an album when you’ve got so many short tracks, but it’s also total freedom.

SILY: How did you like getting the Hausu Mountain album art treatment?

JL: Totally family. All the Monitress packaging has always been iPhone panorama mode artifacts, visual glitches not entirely unlike what my phone’s trackers do to what they hear. I gave one of those images to [Hausu Mountain co-founder Max Allison] to work with the cover of the first Monitress, and he sent back this image, saying, “Here’s the initial stage: Your photo reduced to color blocks I’ll carefully render out later.” So when the second hyper-detailed one came back in a more proper Hausu style, they already seemed like a sequence, and this second one was already in place, so it all clicked. Any version of Monitress, the music is different, but it’s always the same piece. I’m really happy they asked me for something. [Label co-founder Doug Kaplan] and Max are just coming from the good place.

SILY: Are you doing any live streams or socially distant shows any time soon?

JL: Multi-location live streams are a blast. The time modulation inherent in all streaming is deeply psychedelic. The kind of listening you have to do when you know that the relationship of sounds together in time is different for each musician involved? I’m learning utterly new tricks, and it’s astonishing just how live the result is. I sat in on a live stream with Thurston Moore Group a few months ago, the four of them in London, and me hooked up to an amp not far from where I normally am when I play with them. And everyone agreed: It felt like I was there, right up until the instant I quit the app.

I’ve been pre-recording some home live sets for Hausu, Curious Music and High Zero Foundation. Negativland is putting together an hour long performance with Sue-C for the Ann Arbor Film Festival in late March. I finished an album mostly recorded outdoors with my old friend Cheryl E. Leonard for Gilgongo, and we’re going to try to a few outdoor concerts, too.

SILY: What else are you currently working on/what's next?

JL: The second album with Sagan, with Blevin Blectum & J Lesser, is coming out in late April. That one took 14 years to finish. There’s a trio record with Thomas Dimuzio and Anla Courtis coming out on Oscarson. Doing a revision of the last episode of my podcast on sampling music, Variations, to incorporate that OpenAI music. Some Negativland releases tying together the last two albums. There are about four of five other albums that might be done, though it takes time to be sure.

SILY: Anything you've been listening to, reading, or watching lately?

JL: This month has been Maryanne Amacher’s collected writings, Keeping Together in Time by William H. McNeill, Ministry For The Future by Kim Stanley Robinson, important even with happy ending. Interview with Karl Friston - Of Woodlice And Men.  Listening to a lot of “Blue” Gene Tyranny, Xenakis & Lang Elliott, and last week every Ghédalia Tazartès album in reverse chronological order. I don’t care what anybody says: That guy’s immortal.

SILY: Anything I didn't ask about you want to say?

JL: Thank you for your questions!

Popular Monitress by Wobbly

[davidmann95]

So, I heard that there was some news from that Disney thing today...

My thoughts in order of their release on the bits of this I have something to say about:

* Extremely wild that Disney is advertising The Handmaid’s Tale.

* Platform, Jesus Christ, this is the bit that really does sound like an algorithm wrote the pitch

* I only read the first trade but bizarre that Y took the leap from WB under Vertigo to Disney under FX.

* Alien! Not a franchise I have particular affection for and I haven’t watched Fargo, but Legion is a serious contender for best ‘superhero’ TV show so I’m curious what Hawley might do here.

* Wow so they’re really dropping probably a hundred million on a show for the lady who did a transphobic assault last year

* I understand lots of people liked Rogue One and that people like Diego Luna, but Andor is the Star Wars thing here that I most instinctively react to with “why does this exist”

* Hayden Christiansen is back! Unless they Irishman him up it can’t be for flashbacks, so is he gonna be under a pound of fucked-up-by-lava makeup and being sad about his wife in his Empire meditation chamber a lot in this? Anyway, the main thing I imagine at this point when I think of “What do I want out of Star Wars anymore” is a nomadic Jedi going on morose samurai adventures in scenic lonely places where sometimes they get into swordfights and do really trippy shit with the Force, and Obi-Wan Kenobi is probably as close as anything is going to get to scratching that itch for me, so I’ll probably check it out. Or maybe Star Wars Visions will be closer to what I have in mind, that’ll probably rule.

* I hear Donald Glover was the good part of Solo so maybe I’ll check Lando.

* I haven’t seen Russian Doll but The Acolyte sounds like it could be interesting.

* Lol they seriously got the Logan guy to do Old Man Indiana Jones.

* Waititi still doing Star Wars is neat but I’d trade it in a heartbeat for the Johnson trilogy. At least not getting that means we’ll get the further adventures of Benoit Blanc dropping lines like “What did the Nazi boy masturbating in the bathroom say?”.

* Wait a second I just noticed, they’re making a damn Cheaper By The Dozen reboot? I’ll always remember being 8 and being so excited that Clark Kent from Smallville would be in a movie, but that isn’t enough nostalgia to win me over here.

* Why is the Zootopia show called Zootopia+, is it because it’ll be about Judy Hopps + her unborn child with the fox and their discussion on the morality of abortion? Because adapting that is the only thing that could get me interested.

* Well Iwájú looks gorgeous, whatever it is I’m interested.

* There is no explanation whatsoever for what Luca is supposed to be beyond “two dudes hang out”, which is odd because they’re clearer about stuff coming out from Pixar afterwards?

* CHRIS EVANS BUZZ LIGHTYEAR YEAR ONE MOVIE, hell yes, extremely here for this, capitalism has won, I am a piggy at the slop for Content once more.

* Well damn at that The Falcon and The Winter Soldier trailer, they actually are putting Movie Money into these, huh?

* Loki getting a TV show not only after his character arc concludes but outright winding back said progress is the worst idea in the world, except the show is seemingly ABOUT how this version of him should not exist and is therefore stuck in a purgatory via Continuity Suicide Squad, so I’m in.

* Not much to say on the already-announced Disney + stuff, but I don’t recall if it was official that Abomination and Banner would be in She-Hulk so that’s cool.

* “Moon Knight, an Original Series about a complex vigilante”

* Ironheart was neat but not unexpected, Secret Invasion and Armor Wars knocked my socks off.

* Ok I’m 1/2 on the GOTG flicks so I’m not exactly chomping at the bit for 3, but Holiday Special should be a hoot.

* Bale as Gorr! I’m a little disappointed because I thought he was a shoo-in for Dario Agger, the comedically sociopathic CEO of Roxxon who is also a minotaur, but I am more than happy to settle for this, and pitting him against a human Thor in Jane Foster is a very interesting choice.

* Quantumania! In spite of that name I wouldn’t much care, but Jeff Loveness is still writing it last I heard so this should be a hoot.

* Black Panther 2 describing itself as “explor(ing) the world of Wakanda & the rich characters introduced in the first film” is probably placeholder for having to suddenly scrap plans for Letita Wright to take over as Shuri, but if serious the prospect of a true ensemble piece growing out of the worldbuilding of the first film could make this the no-fooling most interesting movie of the MCU.

* Alright alright alright! I’ve seen friends delighted about Jon Watts being on this and friends totally bummed out about it. Personally I think the director behind Homecoming tackling the Fantastic Four suggests a really interesting and workable tone and approach, but one I’d rather have seen several movies in as a departure from the norm rather than as their introduction to being in good movies. Beggars can’t be choosers though, and while I hope someone else takes over in subsequent films I have little doubt this’ll be a lot of fun, Watts did great character stuff in the Spidey movies and managed solid spectacle too so this should work just fine if paint-by-the-numbers. If nothing else, with the way he tackled Vulture and Mysterio he should be able to sell the hell out of Doom as the eventual final boss of the MCU. We all agree though their origin is now going to be them somehow having gotten fucked over by Tony Stark or his dad (but in a way they’ll ultimately let bygones be bygones over), right?

In summation: look, I know that while conceptually Star Wars and Marvel have infinite space to expand the creative marketplace under capitalism is itself not infinite so this taking up so much air is objectively bad, but also after this abomination of a year I’m pretty glad to hear “hey! Cool stuff is still going to happen one day!” My final thought is that I hate all of this because knowing this would crowd the pop culture landscape for a few days is probably why DC is waiting until next week to drop March solicits and put me out of my misery wondering who the new Superman creative teams will be.

[vintagevalentinex]

Decode, V

Whew!  Here we go.  I hope you guys like it!!  Please, please, please  let me know what you think!

xoxo

Decode, V by vintagevalentinexx Mycroft Holmes x Reader ~1400 words

For someone who appeared as though he could spin a story, Mycroft Holmes was fairly quiet.

You sat across from him in the small café on the corner of where the hotel was located.  You swirled your spoon idly in the tea that Mycroft insisted you drink, trying to think of something, anything to talk about.  This felt like the most awkward date ever.  Did he think of this as a date?  Do I think of this as a date?  Do I want this to be a date?  Oh for the love of God…

“How do you do it?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by his simple question.  You furrow your eyebrows, slightly tilting your head.  “What do you mean?”

He placed his hands on the table, leaning in.  He made the table seem so very small, and the space between you was instantly shrinking. As much as he was infuriating you, something about him made you disgustingly curious.

“How is it that you’re able to decode those ciphers so quickly?  I must confess that my brother and I were unable to solve it at first glance, and my employees are still running algorithms on it…”

“Employees?…Just what is it that you do, Mycroft?  How did you know that I solved more than one coded message?”

He pursed his lips, staring intently at you, making sure you realized he was making eye contact.  “I maintain a minor position in the British Government.  It just so happens to make me privy to certain pieces of information.”

You maintain eye contact, narrowing your gaze.  “Minor position?  Privy?  I’m sorry but someone with your obvious intelligence would be completely wasted in a minor position.  If you’re going to lie to me please make it more interesting.  I do teach children, I’ve heard just about everything.”

Mycroft looked at you as though it was Christmas.  His lips barely turned upward but his eyes were definitely amused, as if you pleasantly surprised him.  You took a sip of your tea, trying to keep your tough front up under the scrutinizing gaze of Mycroft Holmes.

“As much as I’d love to continue this line of conversation, I’m more interested in your answer to my question.”

You looked away wistfully, shrugging.  “To be honest, I don’t really know.  It’s always kind of been that way…”  You chewed on your lip.

“For whatever reason when I see a puzzle, especially one that involves letters and words, my brain has the uncanny ability to rearrange the letters or symbols so they make sense. It’s like they automatically rearrange themselves.  It’s almost automatic at this point.  I suppose that’s why I take to languages so quickly…”

You were instantly brought back to when you were young, and didn’t understand what an incredible gift you had.  School had been absolutely tedious and sometimes terrible for you.  As a child you never understood why the teachers would tell you to put your hand down, or clearly make eye contact with you and call on someone else.  It became conditioning for you; hide your intelligence, blend in with those around you, or be completely alienated.  This worked for a while, but it naturally didn’t last.  It something unavoidable and you had learned to keep to yourself.

“Penny for your thoughts, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head, feeling yourself becoming flushed, embarrassed that you were so completely unfocused.

“I’m sorry; I was lost there for a moment…”

“He was not telling the truth, (Y/N)…Sherlock.  Well…not completely…”

“What are you talking about?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.  Quite the opposite, actually…”

“How did you know—“

“What you were thinking about?”  The determined, amused look bubbled back into his eyes.  He shuffled his seat over to the side, motioning with his hand at the empty space.  “Bring your chair over here; I want to show you something.”

You looked at him warily as you slid your chair over, the proximity of his form something quite new. It was almost unnerving, but you weren’t sure if it was in a good way or a bad way.  It was…different.  Mycroft looked straight ahead, motioning for you to look at the couple across the café.

“I have a knack for being able to deduce information out of people merely by observing the mannerisms, the way that they interact with others, and other factors, of course.  Now these two for example…actually…”

He looked at you, lips upturning only slightly.  “You tell me. Tell me all you can about them.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.  What the hell were you supposed to be able to know about two random people?!

“I…um…?”

“Start with the things that are obvious and see what you can infer from there.”

“Um okay.  Well they are dressed up so perhaps they are on a date…?  Am I doing this right?”

“Keep going.”

“Right.  Okay.  I don’t see wedding rings on either of their fingers…um…they don’t seem fairly awkward around each other so maybe they know each other?”

Mycroft nodded, his lips forming a small smile.  “Very good. So far you have observed that they are indeed on a date, their body language suggesting that they are at the very least acquaintances.  Now look deeper, look at the man’s fingers.”

You take another look, trying to understand what Mycroft was talking about.  You turned back to him, looking at him to explain.

“His ring finger.  There is a significant tan line where a wedding ring should go, or in his case, is supposed to be.”

Your eyes light up, whipping your head back around at the couple.  You try to keep your voice down, but the sheer lasciviousness of it all was exciting.

“He’s having an affair. With a good friend…maybe a friend’s girlfriend…?”

“A friend’s wife…you did quite well, (Y/N).  I knew you would.”

“This is exactly what Sherlock did to me.  You…you do this too?”

“Who do you think taught him how?  However, I certainly did not teach him to be so rude about it.  For that I deeply apologize.”

You nod.  “He seems like he can be a handful…”

Mycroft snickers, “(Y/n), you truly have no idea. This is not the only reason I wanted to meet with you, however…”

Before he could continue his phone began to ring.  You sat there, wringing your hands as he spoke softly on the phone.  Moments later he was putting his phone back into his pocket.

“I apologize for that interruption.  As truly enjoyable as this has been, I have just been informed that your presence is about to be requested down at Scotland Yard yet again.  It seems that they have just received another envelope and could use your expertise.”

You almost pouted. You were actually enjoying yourself and now your time with him had to end.  He stood up as you followed suit.

“Allow me to escort you there, (Y/N).  If I know anything about my brother he is probably already there causing a scene.”

The car ride was quiet, yet it was not at all awkward.  It was a calm kind of quiet that you really enjoyed.  It gave you an opportunity to gather your thoughts and prepare for whatever was going to be at the precinct.  As the car slowed down, Mycroft’s hand paused at the handle.

“(Y/N)…it is quite rare as I navigate the world that I come across a mind as astute as yours.  Would you do me the honor of perhaps meeting me for dinner tomorrow night?”

A smile slowly found its way to your face, nodding.  “Yes. Yes Mycroft that sounds lovely.”

Pleased with himself, he cleared his throat.  “Well then…right.  I will text you the details.  Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

Mycroft led you into the precinct, nodding a “hello” to Lestrade as you made your way over to the desk with the envelope.

“Really Mycroft, are you here to make everyone’s night miserable?”

You rolled your eyes as you heard Sherlock’s low baritone, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence.

“Brother mine, I am quite certain that everyone is really not in the mood for your petulance.”

“I second that.”

“John!”

“He does make a good point, Sherlock.”

You deciphered the code easily enough, becoming perturbed as you turned around.  It took them a moment to remember you were in the room. Lestrade spoke first.

“What’s it say?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting around, finally resting on Mycroft’s.

“It says,

“She’s next.”

Next Part!

[arrow-guy]

Sister Winter (11/??)

Summary: Keeping secrets only hurts those closest to you, but sometimes the blunt truth hurts more than you’d ever imagine. What happens when you can’t differentiate between the two?

A/N: Hello, we return to this fic with More Characters Than Before and even more drama! Things are really getting started with everyone starting to show up lmao. Hope you guys enjoy this new chapter!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: ClintxReader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part 10

I startle when I catch Fury out of the corner of my eye. I shiver and shove my hands into my pockets.

I turn my head slightly and nod to him in acknowledgment. “Director.”

“I’m surprised you’re not out there waiting for them,” Fury says. “You look like you’re ready to jump outta your skin.”

“I’ve only spoken with Natasha very briefly and read about the others.” I pause, my brows furrowing. “And I…”

“You’re worried about the whole blue thing.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Why haven’t you gone back to your little magic trick yet?”

“Clint already knows and accepts me as I am. Now that you know too, there’s no point in using a disguise.”

"Hm." He folds his arms. "You should go out to meet them anyway. We're taking off as soon as the Captain shows up. We don't need to lose any new recruits before we get a chance to debrief them."

“I’ll go now.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he says.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind doin’ your little magic trick when the Captain arrives?” he asks. “It’ll help me win a bet.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up into a small smile. “Is that all I’m useful for, Director?”

He snorts. “No, but it sure as hell is handy.”

I chuckle. “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

"You'll need this," he says. I hold out my hand and he drops an earpiece into it. "We'll keep in contact from up here."

"Of course." I position the earpiece and turn it on.

He jerks his chin at me. “Get going. Agent Romanoff should be preparing to land.”

I nod once. "Yes, sir."

"That's her quin, right there." An agent points to the incoming aircraft. "She should be the first one down the ramp."

I nod and shield my eyes against the sun, watching as the quinjet descends. My hair whips around in the wind kicked up by the jet, and I try to keep it out of my eyes as best I can as I move closer.

The ramp lowers and a woman with a shock of red hair appears and immediately walks towards me. She stops short and tilts her head to the side.

“(Y/N)?”

I nod. “Natasha?”

“Yes,” she says. “You’re more… blue than I expected.”

I laugh. “I don’t have to be blue, but it’s just my natural state.”

“Does Clint know?”

“Yes. He actually prefers me like this, believe it or not.”

The corner of her mouth twitches up in an almost smile. “I do, actually. He’s got a knack for pushing people to be themselves.”

“Yes,” I say. “He certainly does.”

She looks me over, silently regarding me. I try not to shrink under her gaze, but she's far more intense than anything Clint told me could've prepared me for.

"You look like you could use a hug," she finally says.

"What?"

"You look like hell. Like you need some comfort." She glances around and takes a step closer. "I'm going to assume that Clint was the only person you're close enough to to go to for emotional or physical comfort."

"I don't know if I like how exposed I feel right now," I joke.

She shakes her head. "I'm not trying to expose you. I just want to suss out what's going through your head. Understand you better."

Slightly confused, I say, “I appreciate that.”

My earpiece crackles to life and I press my finger to my ear. “Coulson’s headed in. Wheels down in five.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve got about five minutes before Coulson lands.” I glance behind her. “I suppose meeting the Doctor will have to wait.”

“He’s just a bit timid.”

“I understand. I hope he’ll be fine on the helicarrier.” I fold my arms. “I mean, Fury’s taken precautions, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll be any more comfortable.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she says. She places her hand on my arm. “How are you holding up?”

“You asked me that yesterday.”

“And answers change.” Her eyes bore into mine. “How are you actually?”

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m worried. I don’t know what Loki’s doing. I don’t know what he’s doing with Clint and Selvig. I don’t know if Clint’s even still in there.”

“You care about him a lot.”

“Yes. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get him back.” I place my hand on her shoulder. “How are you, though, Natasha?”

She sighs. “I’ll be better once we fix this. That’s all I’ll say.”

I nod and manage a small smile. “Fair enough.” I press my lips together. “Do you want a hug?”

She glances around before she leans in, tightly gripping my arm, and whispers, “If anyone sees or hears about this, I will kill you.”

I bite back my laughter. “That’d be harder than you’d expect, but okay.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her mouth turning up into a small as she wraps her arms around my shoulders. I circle my arms around her middle and hug her just as tightly as he hugs me. She sighs against my shoulder and pushes me away abruptly.

“That’s enough,” she says.

Wind whips up around us and I glance up to find the quinjet we were waiting on preparing to land. When I look back at Natasha, she won’t meet my eyes. “Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t mention it.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

I roll my neck and set my enchantments in place. The cerulean takes on a more natural, human color. I sigh and smooth my hands over my hair.

“Showtime,” I mutter. I catch Natasha staring. “What? Are my eyes still red?”

“No, Definitely not.” She scowls. She gestures to my body and asks, “How?”

“Magic.”

She shakes her head and walks towards the quinjet. “I don’t even want to know.”

I shrug and follow after her. “She’ll get curious eventually.”

“We’ll introduce the Captain to Doctor Banner once we talk to Coulson. Fury contacted me earlier, said they needed him inside asap.”

“Alright.”

As we approach, the ramp lowers revealing Agent Coulson with a tall, blond man at his side. He nods to both of us and introduces Natasha before he looks at me, confused.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole-” he wiggles his fingers at me. “-thing anymore.”

“I thought this would be less jarring for people who I’ve never met before,” I explain. “Would you prefer that I stop?”

“Yes,” Natasha and Phil say in unison.

The Captain looks confused, but his confusion quickly gives way to shock as I allow the enchantments to slip away.

“You’re blue,” Rogers says without thinking.

“I am.”

Natasha cuts in, saying, “Coulson, they need you on the bridge. They’re starting the face trace.”

Phil nods. “I’ll see you there.”

He slips between Natasha and Rogers and quickly makes his way across the landing strip. I watch him go and turn slightly towards Natasha.

“I’ll go with him,” I say softly.

“Why?” she asks.

“I’m not sure I’m the kind of welcoming party Doctor Banner is expecting. It’d be better if he had some warning.”

She nods. “Probably safer that way.”

“As soon as you’ve got Banner, you should get inside. We’re taking off in a couple minutes.”

“Right.”

I look back at the Captain and offer him a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Captain. I’ll see the three of you inside.”

He nods hesitantly and I head back to the bridge. I heave a sigh of relief as soon as I’m back inside. I take my place just behind Fury on the bridge and wait for instruction.

“How’d it go?” Fury asks.

I shake my head. “He was a little shocked.”

“A little?” He raises an eyebrow. “That all?”

“I’ve barely met the man. I don’t know him well enough to predict what he’s thinking about.”

He tuts and takes his head. “I’m sure everything went fine.”

I roll my eyes. Coulson hands me a tablet and points out specific camera feeds. I take the tablet and examine them more closely.

“You’ve spotted Loki?” I ask.

“We think so, but his appearance changes each time. I figure you’d be the best person to spot anything recognizable.”

I nod. “I’ll do my best.” I tuck the tablet against my chest. “Any word on Clint?”

“Nothing new. Agent Romanoff will be working with the surveillance team to track him down.” He pats my shoulder. “We’ll get him back, don’t worry.”

“I know we will. I’m more worried about what he’s being forced to do. Loki will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. He doesn’t care who he endangers along the way.”

“I can only hope we’ll be able to stop him before he gets too far.”

“I know.” I glance up momentarily and catch Captain Rogers handing Fury a ten-dollar bill. I laugh. “Guess Fury’s little prank worked.”

“Prank?”

”He said something about making a bet. Asked me to skew the odds in his favor.”

Coulson smiles. “Sounds like something he’d do.”

Fury speaks with Doctor Banner. Banner asks something about the search for the tesseract and Fury gestures for a status update.

“We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet,” Coulson says. “Cell phones, laptops… if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“Still not gonna find him in time,” Natasha says.

Banner takes in everything they say. “You have to narrow your field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?”

“How many are there?” Fury asks.

“Call every lab you know. Tell ‘em to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays.” Banner takes his jacket off and rolls his sleeves up. “I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places.” He glances around. “Do you have somewhere for me to work?”

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury gestures to Doctor banner. “Could you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?”

Natasha rises from the monitor she’s squatting in front of and walks up to Banner. “You’re gonna love it, Doc,” she says. “We got all the toys.”

It takes several hours to even get an approximate match for Loki on any camera. At the smallest glimpse of his hair, I clasp Agent Sitwell’s shoulder.

“There,” I point at the monitor. “That one.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The monitor beside him chimes, notifying us of a match. It’s the same feed as I had indicated a moment ago.

“Sixty-seven percent,” I shake my head. “It’s absolutely him.”

Sitwell turns and lets Phil know. “We got a hit.”

“Wait,” I smack his arm. “Check again.”

“You’re right.” He shakes his head. “Crossmatch, seventy-nine percent. It has to be him.”

Coulson appears beside me. “Location?”

“Stuttgart, Germany. Twenty-eight Konigstrasse.” He pulls up several images. “He’s not exactly hiding.”

“He wants us to find him,” I say.

“Captain,” Fury says. “You’re up.”

Captain Rogers nods and follows Coulson down the hall. I move across the floor to speak with him.

“I want to go with them,” I say.

“No.”

“You seriously won’t allow me to bring my own brother in?”

“Yes. Seriously. You don’t need to be in the line of fire.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’ll stay in the jet with Natasha. I won’t be in the line of fire.”

“You’ll stay in the jet?”

“Yes.”

He scowls. “Fine. You can go with them.”

“Thank you-”

“But you stay away from that spear,” he says. “I don’t need to lose another agent to your psychopath twin.”

“He won’t get to me.” I pause. “Did you just call me an agent?”

“I might’ve.”

“Alright.”

“You better go find Agent Romanoff. Don’t want her to leave without you.”

I nod leave the bridge. I run into Natasha along the way and follow her out to the jet. Captain Rogers is hot on our heels, dressed in a vibrant blue, red, and white suit. Coulson said something about having a hand in the Captain’s new uniform and I hadn’t put much thought into it until now. The colors are a bit nauseating.

Captain Rogers settles into the seat across from me in the jet and we lapse into an uncomfortable silence as Natasha and another agent take the controls.

“So,” Rogers says. “What’s your connection to all of this?”

“Loki is my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes. My twin, actually.”

“But he’s...”

“Not blue?” He nods. “Very astute. I’m sure you’ll notice that we’re not identical twins either.”

“That’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s controlling the people I care about. I want to stop him and take him home to face judgment.”

“Where is home?”

“Asgard.” His eyes widen. “I’m sure it’s clear that I’m not exactly from Earth, Captain.”

“Call me Steve,” he says.

“Alright.” I pause. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. We were never formally introduced.”

He shoots me a small smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

I nod and he doesn’t say anything else. I cross my arms, put my head back, and doze until we reach our destination. I wake when Natasha says we’ve arrived and I move to join her near the cockpit.

“Looks like he’s giving a speech,” she says.

I shake my head. “Of course he is. He really seems to enjoy the sound of his own voice these days.”

“What’s the plan?” Steve asks.

“Don’t let him get to you,” I say. “He’s persuasive and he’ll distract you if he can. If he can distract you, you’re in trouble.”

“Anything else?”

“He’ll fight dirty. Protect your stomach and your legs.”

“How dirty are we talking?”

“He has an affinity for knives.”

“Jeez.”

Natasha lowers the ramp. “Remember to have fun,” she says.

I move up to the cockpit with Natasha as Steve drops down into the middle of the crowd and deflects a blast from Loki. Natasha lowers the quinjets weapons system and points it directly at my brother.

“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down,” she commands.

I shake my head and sit back and watch as a fight between Steve and Loki breaks out. Natasha mutters something about not being able to get a good shot when someone overrides the communications system.

“Agent Romanoff,” they say. “You miss me?”

Music blares through the loudspeaker and she shook her head. A figure in a suit of armor swoops in and easily lays Loki out with one blast.

“So this is Stark?” I ask.

“The one and only,” Natasha mutters.

“Huh,” I watch as Loki surrenders and Stark lowers his heavily armed hands. “Impressive.”

“That’s one way to describe him.”

We land briefly and I help the agent on board restrain Loki and bundle him onto the quinjet. Steve and Stark join us on the jet.

“You’re a traitor,” Loki hisses.

“Shut up.”

“Rather bold, aren’t we, sister?”

“I’m not doing this with you, Loki.” I tighten the straps around his shoulders. “I have no energy to humor you anymore.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you wound me.” He grins manically and I push his face away as I stand and join Stark and Rogers near the cockpit.

“I don’t like it,” Steve says.

“What?” Stark asks. “Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

“I don’t remember it being that easy,” Steve mutters.

“No,” I interject. “He was going easy on you.”

“And you know this… how?” Stark asks.

“He’s my brother.”

“But you’re blue.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m blue, he’s pale as fresh snow. Am I seriously going to have this conversation with every newcomer?”

Steve shakes his head. “Still, this guy packs a wallop.”

I take a seat across from Loki and tune out their bickering. A crash of thunder startles me out of my thoughts. When a lightning flash lights up the quinjet Loki and I look at each other with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Steve asks. “Scared of a little lightning.”

“It’s not the lightning that scares him,” I say, careful to keep my voice steady.

Loki squints at me. “I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

Something lands on the jet, shaking all of us around. Stark immediately puts on his helmet and lowers the ramp, much to Rogers’ protests. I jump up when Thor lands in the jet. He doesn’t see me. Instead, he knocks Stark back just as he’s about to fire at him and grabs Loki out of his seat by the neck. Before I can say anything, they’re gone. I look around at everyone in the jet and Stark is already on his way out to follow Thor. Steve moves to grab a parachute and I just shake my head.

“I’d sit this one out, Cap,” Natasha calls.

“I don’t see how I can,” he says.

“These guys come from legend. They’re basically gods.”

“She’s right,” I add. “You don’t know their power, and you nearly got your ass handed to you by Loki. I don’t think you can manage both of my brothers at once.”

“Both brothers?” Steve asks.

“Yes, both brothers.”

“Great,” he mutters. “This is just wonderful.”

“If you’re determined to go-” I sigh and grab a parachute. “Then I’m going with you. I’m at least strong enough to hold one or both of them back.”

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Natasha says. “You know how dangerous they are.”

“I will. Tell Fury to hide Jane Foster. If Thor’s here, Loki’s people may try to hurt her to get to him.”

“Will do. You two get down there and stop them.”

I look to Steve and he nods before jumping out of the quinjet. I follow his lead and we freefall for a while before deploying our chutes and gliding down over the treetops. We follow the trail of felled trees and sparks down to find Thor and Stark fighting one another. I yank my chute from my shoulders as soon as my feet hit the ground and move through several broken off trees to get to Thor, but I’m too late.

Steve has already engaged him, telling him to put his hammer down. Thor refuses and takes a swing at Stark, swinging him back through several trees.

I shake my head and step between Thor and Steve. “Stop.”

Thor looks between me and Steve, unsure of what to do. He shifts slightly towards me, and I see Steve move out of the corner of my eye. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I make a cutting motion outwards, and immensely cold energy travels down my arms and through my hands. Both men freeze in place and stare at me, surprise and fear etched into their features. All around me on the ground is a thick layer of sharp, spiked ice. My eyes go wide when I see what I’ve done and I have to school my face into calm indifference.

“I said stop. All of you.” I look very pointedly at Thor. “We’re all on the same side. Fighting isn’t going to change a fucking thing about this situation.”

Thor nods. “I’m sorry, sister.”

I shake my head. “Go get Loki. We’re leaving and both of you are coming with us.”

Thor summons his hammer and takes off to gather up Loki. I carefully pick my way out of my little field of ice and wander off to find Stark. I pull him to his feet and lead him back to Steve while I signal for Natasha to bring the jet around.

“This is just the beginning of things, isn’t it?” Steve asks.

I nod. “I’m afraid it is, Captain. And it’s not going to get any easier from here.”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @baguettegirl, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @liladeldiamandis, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @ilovebeingjoyful, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @not-that-type-of-person, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhofone, @starryeyesbadguys. @leahhavoc, @future-ll-evans, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark​, @stilesstilinvki​, @geeksareunique​, @nyxveracity​, @idalinette​, @tomorraw​, @breezy1415​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @thisismysecrethappyplace​, @princess-unicorn124​, @hermionie-is-my-queen​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic: 

@mysticalhermitofdoom​, @imagine-you-are​, @avengerscompound​, @thorne93​, @cryptidwolfe​, @welldonebeca​, @magicstrengthandcourage​. @this-is-mycrisis​, @rhymesmenagerie​

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and the ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 6 of 21

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DARING DO and the

ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck) @ask-de-writer​

And

Carmen Pondiego @askcarmenpondiego​

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 08/26/15

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.  

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Daring Do, being a pegasus, really had little magic.  It was all small and strictly practical. Truth testing, safe grip that allowed the picking up of cracked or damaged things without losing any parts or causing further damage, fast read (handy but you had to know the language fairly well first) and a few other spells of that sort.  They were all Non Equine Magic learned from the Non Equine University.

Truth testing was simple and unobtrusive.  First, it showed her that what they saw was real.  She could have sworn it was staged for effect!

“I am Captain Getsthere, of the Sea Sage.  Ship’s a bit obsolete, mixed sail and steam paddle wheeler.  She is sound, though, and will get you there.  I hear that you want to get to the Chineignese Empire.  Main port at Singapone and then up the Dunn See river to Cantrot.”

The Guardian said quietly, “Not to cast a doubt on your honorable self but all the docks are occupied by ships with Lading Deposits.  None are loading, however.”

Captain Getsthere smiled, showing yellowed teeth, some with gold or silver crowns.  “Legal trick there, Honorable One.  If we have cargo to load and a paid Lading Deposit, the Harbor Master HAS to move a vessel that is not loading out to the roadstead and let us have the dock space.”

Daring Do invited Captain Getsthere to sit and said, “Order what you wish.  We have the Lading Deposit in Gold and the cargo is in Dock Warehouse #4.  So, you can get us to Singapone?  What about river barge connections to Cantrot?”

The Captain was briefly busy with the waiter and then replied, “Sea Sage is shallow enough draft that we’ve been up to Cantrot six times.  At low water, too.  Make that whole run for you without transshipping once.”

Truth testing passed him completely, to Daring Do’s amazement.  She saw Cy nodding approval. She reached into her saddlebag and pulled out the bag of gold that was the deposit for the previous vessel.

Captain Getsthere carefully counted it out.  He shoved back a substantial sum.  “Sea Sage’s Lading Deposit is well known.  Won’t overcharge you first thing.”

Daring Do considered carefully. “Make us a proper receipt. Make us another for any refits that you think good.  We want the ship under us to be as sound as possible.”

At that he nodded acceptance. “I can do that.  Got a list, in fact.  Was going to use the deposit money to get it.”

He left to make arrangements with the Harbor Master and order his refitting supplies from the chandlers.

The group of them were sitting outside, watching the gulls fly and the coming and going of smaller boats.  The docks were full of idle ships.  Most of them had the wisp of smoke at the stack that indicated operational steam up.  That was required by the Royal Maritime Commission.  It let docks be cleared quickly for emergencies, a precaution that had paid off handsomely in the past.  

“Look!” Cy exclaimed.  “They are bringing up a tug to Dock and Warehouse 4!”

The Guardian said softly, “The Rising Whale does not have steam up as required.  They are pulling her out.  Her captain is protesting.  From the looks of the longshore ponies with axes to cut the hawser lines it will be a useless protest.”

He was right.  The captain had to get a gig to catch up to his idle ship, being towed out to the roadstead.

The Sea Sage was in place and ready to load in only a half hour or so.  Maneuvering a ship, even a smaller one, near a dock is tricky business and has to be done with care.

Their supplies were being loaded and the Sea Sage was taking on coal while they watched.  Daring Do called on her Magic Net mirror.  Looking up, she explained, “We will have three others from the Royal University joining us in a short time.  I sent them ahead and told them where to wait.  They are all experts in conservation and collection of delicate artifacts.”

Sure enough the three came trotting up in a little while.  One, a pale mauve pony, introduced himself, “I am Senior Graduate Student Horace.  These others are Jeremy, the orange guy there, and the big white mare is Soree Bea Shann.  She is a Saddle Arabian exchange student.

“I don’t know why they are along.  Jeremy barely made the cut for the program and HER?  Her folks back in the desert are RICH.  Her only qualification.”

The two were about to protest when Daring Do cut in, “THEY are along because I personally sent for them.  YOU muscled your way onto the team without my consent.  I am most curious as to WHY?”

Cy simply pounced.  She used a right foreleg thrust to the side of Horace’s neck.  He was not only knocked down, he was driven over a meter from where he had been standing a fraction of a second ago.  Cy was sitting on his neck to keep him down while she explained, “Horace, here, is in ROT’s pay. He was smart enough to demand gold up front and no written contract.

“His job is to report your expedition’s progress and the exact location of the tomb.  ROT will then swoop in and steal anything of value.  If a few ponies have to die, including you, Doctor Do, no big deal, as he sees it.  He will have money and perhaps fame.”

Daring Do considered for a moment.  “How can you know these things?  I have noticed other times that you knew what you really had no way of knowing.”

Going perfectly serious, Cy replied, “That is a matter of ERIS Supreme security, Doctor.  The Guardian knows.  In a private setting, he may tell you what he deems fit.”

With a pluck of her sleeve, the Guardian led her inside the Rusty Barnacle.  Looking about to be sure of not being overheard, he told her, “You have seen her eye and mane.  More was changed in her inheritance after the Mage Weapon Blast of two generations past than only her body.  The Watcher of the Most Exalted One can read minds.  More it is unwise to say.”

Daring Do, thinking back saw answers to many things.  “Her precise combat moves.  She knows were the enemy is without looking.  The trick with the sewers and fire fighting mains.  She was near enough to somepony who knew it!  I am glad that she is a Watcher for Eris.  So many try to harm her.”

They went back out where Cy was passing time by lightly popping Horace’s head against the ground. She looked up brightly as Daring Do approached.  “Can I?  Please? We know everything that he is aware of about the plot.  I would love to kill him!”

The eager puppy look to her single eye left no doubt about Cy’s sincerity.  Daring Do hated to disappoint her.  “I am afraid not, Cy.  I do believe you.  One test, though.  How was he to communicate with ROT?”

“Empty his left saddle bag. There is a hidden flap on the inside.  Lifting it will reveal the pocket holding a World Wide Magic Net mirror.  A small one but with plenty of reach.  We at ERIS cracked that algorithm about two years ago.  That type of mirror was still in development when we got it.”

Horace sort of gave up.  “Those are supposed to be totally private.  You heard my signals when I called them to say we were going to the ship.”

Cy looked down at him. “Something of that sort.  I waited to be sure that I had what you knew before I moved, that is all.”

Slumped even flatter, Horace asked, “Since I am not going along, can’t you just let me go?  I can’t hurt you now.”

Serenely digging out the mirror, Cy poked some codes.  “Hello, are you Mister Robber or Mister Overthrow?  Oh, you are Mister Tyrrany!  I am Cyrene Clopes.  I work for ERIS, Inc.  I just wanted you to know that we have taken your spy for Doctor Do’s expedition.

“What?  No.  We are letting him go for now.  The Royal Road Police will be handling the charge of Criminal Taking of Royal Funds.  We thought that since you are a law firm and have him on retainer, that you would likely want to defend him in the courts.

“This was purely a courtesy call, you understand.  Good bye.”  She closed the mirror and handed it back to Horace.

“Do be so good as to pack your things and leave, young pony.  We really don’t want you along.”

As Daring Do watched Horace go, she had a pang of conscience.  She turned to Cy and said softly, “They will kill him, won’t they?”

Cy smiled calmly, watching gulls wheel overhead.  “Almost certainly, Doctor Do.  I might have handled things differently if this was the only bad thing that he has done.  It is not.  He has cheated and trampled others for most of his life.”

Soon they were all picking staterooms aboard the Sea Sage.  They all rushed up to the deck to wave good bye to Cy, staying behind on the dock as the ship was towed free and the huge, nearly antique paddles began to churn the harbor’s water.  Her big whistle let loose a piercing scream and crewponies worked to unfurl the sails.

Heeling gracefully, the Sea Sage rounded the breakwater and swept out onto the swells of the open sea.

Soree, the Saddle Arabian, who had never been to sea before, was happily trotting all over, looking at all of the wonderful new sights!  She drew in deep breaths of the amazing salt air, the scent of smoke and lubricants from the massive two cylinder walking beam engine and the pitch on the rigging ropes.

Poor orange Jeremy was hanging his head over the rail and wishing that his heaving tummy would stop. It was emptied long ago!

Daring Do and the Guardian had a low table set up on the poop deck and were happily playing Mah Jongg, to the rattle of dice and the clacking of tiles.

Daring Do felt a deep contentment.  She was on the way; another expedition to find the unknown and learn the secrets of the ancient past.

The weather, which at sea, was native and wild, untamed by Cloudsdale or any other such authority, held fine.  Jeremy got over his sea-sickness.  Both he and Soree began to learn the ins and outs of Mah Jongg.  It is an excellent four hoof game.

The weather did not prove to be a problem.  The pirates, on the other hoof …

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[drink-n-watch]

Hello everyone. Please bear with me this week. I am still in the midst of a huge cold and even watching Psycho Pass was a bit of a challenge. Matt, I’m going to have to rely on you for the deep insight even more than usual this week. Oh and if I say anything that makes no sense, please assume it’s the cold medicine talking.

Oh boy, this oughta be a fun one! Strap in guys and gals!

First let me say that to my eye, it seems as if last week was a blip. This week’s episode was largely back to normal regarding character model consistency and art quality. I really didn’t notice anything off. Of course there’s no way I trust myself in my current state to make that assertion so Matt, what did you think of the visuals?

Much improved, not sure if that was because they were a bit smarter with shot composition in this episode–favouring still frames and off-camera dialogue over low quality mid and long shots–but whatever it was worked well for the visual fidelity of the episode.

I thought the episode would have mostly concentrated on the undercover infiltration of Heaven’s Leap and I was excited about it. So it was a bit disappointing to me to have the narrative swing back to Arata and the rest of division one that quickly.

This episode was jumping around a lot, in spite of what people may have thought this episode would be, I’ll elaborate on that later though…

Although I was amused by how sly Kei is. He’s like an ogre, the boy has layers, and it’s slowly winning me over.

A ‘Shrek’ reference? In 2019? For shame, Irina…

The story does indeed seem to be continuing its exploration of the plight of immigrants in a Sybil controlled society and the plot is thickening on all sides. A deep conspiracy is going on with most of our key players missing for unknown reasons and still no explanation for the acts of terrorism all pointing back to the church.

It does appear that a powerful organization is using immigrants to reap chaos and perhaps in other ways as well but so far, I haven’t gotten a handle on why. I’m not sure if it hasn’t been revealed yet or I just missed it, but the end goal is still fuzzy as far as I’m concerned.

From what I can gather, Bifrost (the three people who talk cryptically in that extremely detailed 3D room) are all ‘congressmen’ who have power on par with the Sybil system and can drastically affect anything going on in Japan; from the allocation of public funds to different projects to the plotting of needlessly complicated conspiracies involving religions, kidnappings, and all manner of mischief. Basically, they are demi-gods, playing with pawns in the shadow of the absolute god that is the Sybil system.

Well yeah – I mean I got the basics down, I’m not that sick. I just don’t quite know yet the point of holding Roundrobin games. Is it a purge tactic, simple entertainment, modern day gladiator games? Bifrost is like an evil Sybil computer right? Why is it holding the games in the first place?

Because ambitious people will always want to have power over others and Bifrost is the end goal for such ambitions maybe?

One thing I would love to get more information about, is the larger context of Japan on the international level. I know I say that a lot simply because I think it’s really interesting to see how Psycho Pass’ specific version of authoritarianism would play out when confronted with other governments. However, in this particular case, I think it could help us appreciate the story more as well.

I’m sure they’d get along fine with the US in its current political state. Ohhh~ spicy!

Like I mentioned earlier this season, I was pretty surprised there even is enough immigration into Japan for the possibility of racial/cultural tensions to rise. I would have thought it would be too chaotic and unpredictable a situation for Sybil to allow.

Regardless of how Sybil feels about it, I’m also super curious why anyone would want to immigrate to Japan. It’s an island country so it’s not mere convenience. These people went through effort to go there specifically. That’s a bit unusual especially in the case of hue compromised immigrants which seem to be not uncommon.

What is happening in the rest of the world to make Japan that attractive?

It’s gotta be the secret porn doujin underground, right? I mean that’d be enough to make me risk a clouded hue to live in a Sybil-controlled Japan!

You may have chosen the wrong show to watch Matt…What I mean is considering the danger, why would someone chose Japan? I know Kei mentioned fighting in his home country but his home country is Russia. They aren’t exactly strangers to warfare in our world…. Do you know anything about this?

Do I know anything about what? About Russia, or about Kei being Russian? Or about Kei fighting in Russia? Or warfare in general? Because as far as I know, war… war never changes…

Did season 2 give us any glimpse about the state of international matters?

I try to block season 2 out of my memories… but no I don’t think it did.

Another aspect that would actually change things quite a bit is the emigration policy which I don’t think they’ve discussed yet. For instance, let’s say that Hue determination is based on some super secret set of calculations (like the google algorithm) and no one can know their own hues until Sybil assesses them. Can you show up in Japan, find out that your one quarter stuck in the bubblegum machine away from becoming a latent criminal and just decide to leave? Is there anything keeping you there outside the financial burden of travelling?

If Japan is letting so many people in you figure they would be letting some out as well to avoid overpopulation but we never really see that. In fact, most people don’t seem to have even travelled outside of Japan (which would make sense) so how does that work?

I think you’re trying to apply too much logic to a show (and by extension its writer) who just wanted to tack on some buzz-worthy topics like ‘immigrants’ and ‘housing crisis’, etc to the world of ‘Psycho Pass’ without you thinking too much about the nitty gritty details. Or maybe the writer is a genius and he’ll answer all your questions in time for the finale!

I don’t know. The writer is probably smarter than me. Besides what I do know of this franchise has always been very nicely constructed. None of these things are essential to understanding the story of course. I just think they’re interesting concepts and would add some nice world building to a season that’s been mostly plot driven.

As the episode came to a close, things were looking pretty dire for Kei. Just as I was starting to like the guy too. And I mean very dire. It strikes me that Psycho Pass may be the type of show that does not shy away from killing off main cast members and now I’m really worries. I will personally be bummed if anything happens to Kei. Maria will be devastated and I don’t know if Arata would even survive it….

Matt, tell me it’s going to be ok!

I mean, Maria got kidnapped to, things are going from bad to worse before our eyes, Irina!

Oh also, Bifrost is deeply involved with Heaven’s Leap. Of course. I don’t even know why I felt the need to throw in a spoiler like that…

Well I mean corrupt religions and corrupt politics go hand in hand, just look at the US… Oh! There I go again being ~spicy~!

So Matt, what did you think of this episode. Is last week still your least favourite?

This episode felt needlessly, almost combatively confusing, presenting itself in a fractured narrative that cut between story beats and flashbacks in such a way to keep itself ahead of the audience as if obfuscation passes for complexity. There was nothing specifically I disliked about this episode, there were some great scenes but they were presented so hurriedly and so disjointedly that on the whole it was hard to fully enjoy the experience. Even though this was a 45 minute episode, not only did it feel like a bunch of plots and subplots were simultaneously emerging, converging and diverting but it also felt like it was rushing for the sake of being compelling but instead ended up just confusing. This’ll be the new least favourite episode (so far). What about you Irina, can you blow past your cold and give us your verdict on it? 

I’m neutral on it. I found it less confusing than past episodes in that motivations were much clearer and I have no issues with intertwining narratives, in fact I often like them. However to me here are a lot of interesting themes being laid out but they are presented in a fairly dull way, in my opinion. So it evens out?

Psycho Pass s3 ep6 – Friends and Strangers Hello everyone. Please bear with me this week. I am still in the midst of a huge cold and even watching Psycho Pass was a bit of a challenge.

[regrettablewritings]

FAQs, Rules & Such

Do you take requests?

I reserve requests almost strictly for when I do headcanon memes. I know this seems unusual for a fanfiction blog, but given how my energy, focus, and motivation are not always consistent with one another, I deem this better than creating disappointment by accepting a prompt I haven’t prepared myself for and thus probably not complete it in a timely manner.

On the rarest of occasions, however, I may become intrigued by a prompt just enough to consider it. Take this with a grain of salt, though: Just because I like it doesn’t mean it will be written any time soon, if at all.

Who do you write for?

This is an updated list of franchises and their respective characters that I currently write for. It’s highly advised that you check this list when I’m writing headcanons in the event a character I used to write for has now been discontinued.

Arcane (Jayce Talis, Viktor, Mel Medarda, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Silco)

Big Hero 6 (Tadashi Hamada, Honey Lemon)

The Book of Boba Fett (Boba Fett, Fennec Shand)

DCEU (Victor Stone, Diana Prince, Arthur Curry, Clark Kent, Steve Trevor, Harley Quinn, Digger Harkness, Dinah Lance, Helena Bertinelli)

Logan Lucky (Clyde Logan)

Lucifer (Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez)

MCU (Heimdall, M’Baku, Okoye, Nakia)

Night at the Museum (Ahkmenrah)

The Phantom of the Opera (Erik)

Rogue One (Bodhi Rook)

School of Rock: The Musical (Dewey Finn)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (Peter B. Parker, Spidernoir)

Star Wars sequel trilogy (Rey, Finn, Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, DJ)

Stranger Things (Steve Harrington)

The Witcher (Geralt, Jaskier)

The Wolf Among Us (Bigby Wolf)

Trouble in the Heights (Nevada Ramirez)

I don’t really update this as often as I should, so if there’s a chance I might’ve written for someone or something yet they’re not listed here or explained by what’s below, then please just ask 👌🏽 👌🏽

Special Cases

This spot is where I put characters or franchises I’m currently putting on hiatus for one reason or another, or whom I do technically write for but will only do so sparingly. If it’s something I plan to only do sparingly, it will be marked with an asterisk. If you’re curious as to whether or not the respectively marked is greenlit for a request, just ask. Though do be prepared for if I say no, and come with a backup character or franchise.

Deadpool

Law & Order: SVU

Netflix’s Daredevil*

DCEU!Bruce Wayne

Cassian Andor

The Mandalorian

Misc.

Blank blogs get blocked. I’ve had my fair share of bots and I’ve even encountered ones that “like” stuff. There is no way for me to tell the difference between a spambot and you, and this site is so pock-riddled that I would sooner assume a blank blog is a bot than a person.

Please know that as a black queer woman, I don’t feel comfortable with you following me if you’re a bigot/Dump supporter or anything related.

I ask that you please not spam my activity feed or notifications. I understand how thrilling it can be to find new content, but it’s a bit stressful to try and find messages or other notifications when I need to scroll through 20+likes and reblogs. That, and more often than not, it’s just likes anyway. If you’ve been here for a while, you know why that sucks. If you’re new, likes mean nothing so it still sucks. By all means, enjoy what you find, but please be mindful and space it out and please reblog.

While I do appreciate recommendations for shows and movies, I can’t always guarantee that I’ll watch them. I literally am having the absolute worst executive dysfunction right now and have been watching things on a whim rather than by recommendation.

If you request something, I ask that you please come back to collect by reblogging or making a response. I understand that I may not always put out as fast as the next guy, but I do put a lot of thought and effort into my work and it can be rather disheartening to write five pages-worth of prompt, only to get silence. The Tumblr algorithm or whatever it runs on is becoming increasingly more and more difficult for content creators to navigate, and it always encourages us to put out more when you interact! It’s a bit like talking to plants, we bloom when you acknowledge us and the work we do! 🤗🤗🤗

Didn’t find an answer to your question here? You know where to find me!

[aiweirdness]

The first line of a novel, by an improved neural network

Earlier this month, I tried training an algorithm called a neural network to generate the first line of a novel.

It didn’t go so well. A neural network learns by example, looking at a database of things (paint color names, craft beer names, halloween costumes) and trying to figure out how to imitate it. The problem was, I didn’t have many example first sentences to give the neural network, and supplementing with winners from a worst opening sentence contest didn’t help matters. An example:

Stop! I caused the Narguuse man who was new on Alabama, the screaming constipated eggs.

So, I asked my readers for help. I asked people to enter the first line of any novel or short story they had handy, even their own. And folks, you have made me and the neural network so very happy.

Total # of entries: 11135

Here were the most frequently-entered lines:

It was a nice day. (27) Shadow had done three years in prison. (21) In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. (17) The primroses were over. (17) The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. (16) We slept in what had once been the gymnasium. (16) The body lay naked and facedown, a deathly gray, spatters of blood staining the snow around it. (15) It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. (14) All children, except one, grow up. (14) It was a pleasure to burn. (13) Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. (13)

And the most frequently-entered authors:

Terry Pratchett (268) Neil Gaiman (99) Douglas Adams (87) Arthur Conan Doyle (81) Diana Wynne Jones (76) Isaac Asimov (61) William Gibson (55) Lois McMaster Bujold (54) Philip K. Dick (53) Stephen King (51) Jack Vance (51) Jane Austen (50) Charissa Johnson (50)

(Note that misspellings and variations aren’t counted; Ursula Le Guin and J. R. R. Tolkien would have easily made the list if their spellings were more standardized.)

This crowdsourced database was quite wide-ranging indeed: from Star Wars stories to Chuck Tingle to a surprising amount of My Little Pony fan fiction. The latest version of the database is here. With my original dataset added, I ended up with 10096 unique lines (except for typos). 

I used the same neural network as last time, an open-source neural net that (somewhat unusually) uses syllables as its building blocks.

The first results showed, if not promise, then at least evidence of the high number of My Little Pony stories in the dataset.

And town go the resions with the the as to the vicered the whatboat, fluenza the of the his mix.ing the think'

What or the the not of un the the in you conple a tonight fire on the of of the at mouning and she trouror" the fash no the the which they to, an of the the all stood ponyville at es that ev the.

The neural net soon made some improvement, and once in a while would produce a grammatically correct sentence as long as it was very short.

It was an hour of the night.

The waves - there, and a class that glass of the wall of a dull place.

Something 17514.

I know they are from the mountain.

Her emlage were playing the three of the fible of the Sinnia Ously of St, in the hole is his life in a moist king.

Aliens were reared by the steam of a drought of a good ears, the young wall of the water, but she was going upon a over and had been stolen to chapter the Irish of the ratred of the building star is in Coats-and-La is a flash of dewy and big enough.

It learned eventually how to begin a book by talking about the weather - although not always successfully.

There was the snow of a perfect custom sea and early gusts from the back of the bay.

The sky was dead.

The night was very a moonless story in a mountain-10 years.

The night is like a wounded carpets from the Crumzon.

The first day of the world was born in the year 1985, in an old side of the world, and the air of the old sky of lemon and waves and berries.

And it developed a curious fondness for a line by Jacqueline Carey about not being a cuckoo’s child. Everything, for some reason, was a cuckoo’s child.

I am a cuckoo’s child of the monster.

I am not a simple person, I am the truth, and I am a cuckoo's child and the first thing you've never be blamed to be born.

"I am a cuckoo's man," said the man who had found the tapes when he had been in the door.

Many lines, especially the shortest ones, almost made sense.

The morning room came to the deep camp.

"I have no question,” I said, as I had been ringing from Inniwhite.

The farmer was born on one side.

"You are even much!"

It was a good day that had once been any thing.

It is a man trick.

The night was over.

There began with the dead end of the wind.

The telephone was coming.

With Mr. Bilbo had always been so much procision

The sky has gone.

Here was a grey one.

The sun was coming.

"She's no acterity," said the hoarse man.

There was a very high slacks for our house 2g19.

The first thing you know is not a good idea.

I am not a king.

I was surfing for my table.

There was just a man who was able to be sick.

It was god.

This is the worst thing, in an old old man of baker and bay.

A noise is a good recruit.

And some were actually rather intriguing. I might read these books.

The silence was unlike a place.

"I am forced to write to my neighbors about the beast."

Her mother was packing by the black anthill.

The sun was probably for his wife.

I am a story that was not a truth.

"I am not the door!"

I don't know what is a combined life.

This is the story of a certain man who had invented a young man.

The sky was at the door.

Alice is a story of interest.

The question was enjoying himself.

This is a story of a man in the morning.

The world was born to say that I was lost.

I saw the last of a man, who was dead.

The old man was the first of us of the beginning to the sky.

Longer sentences, though? Still a problem. Grammar is hard.

"Bleeeck, “You are clearly out of my uncle Christmas Eve, I am a cuckoo's advice and at the day that I can tell you to be a man," but he had no children to remember to the boars of the ancient girl (or Claudius the Idiot."

The year of the island is discovered the Missouri of the galaxy like a teenage lying and always discovered the year of her own class-writing bed and implored the creation of his head, and the constant final ones in the back of the high water of the stock of the dark.

All the light of the smallest man’s body in the ocean in an old angle of a giant mountain and exclaimed that the sky was the gunslinger caught over the pale of the great kitchen floor.

I knew how felt my father being to our interested to the baseing and so walter along her hours, and the holy summer of the world with the sea of the m and the exvitions of the light of elephant novice, and the top of the phenomwhere, and the witch of the world was firmer and slid and an invisible company of the year and the ancient head of the square, the song of the day of the interest note, a large zzzzzz for a very mind, and a wizard of chess.

Want to see what the raw neural network output looked like? This project is my entry for NaNoGenMo (National Novel Generating Month) which means that I generated 140,000 words’ worth of first lines, also available at GitHub.  Unfortunately, due to a prank in the input data that I didn’t catch till after I trained the neural network, 37,000 of them are the word “sand”.

I’m posting the crowdsourced dataset here on GitHub, in spreadsheet form on Google Docs, and I’ll leave the original survey open as well. Thanks again, everyone.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 2x04-- Day 429 (1)

If TGF can do two episodes in one, I can do two recaps for one episode. This recap covers Liz’s part of the ep.

The episode begins on a promising note, informing the audience that there will be two chapters: Liz’s Case and Lucca’s Case. One second in, and it’s already apparent that this episode will be (a) innovative and (b) focused on Liz and Lucca.

I have a feeling I’ve heard the Kings talk before (like, season 5/season 6) about wanting to do an episode like this. Does anyone else recall this? At any rate, I’m glad the writers have TGF to experiment a little more with structure. And I think this particular structure works better on Fight (an ensemble show) than it would have on Wife (a show with one lead).

After we’re informed we’re going to be watching “Liz’s Case” first, we see a sheet of paper with ABC written on it. Jay is running active shooter training with some of the members of the firm, including all of the name partners, Lucca, and Maia (who doesn’t get a seat at the table). This is both timely and a good way of furthering the KILL ALL LAWYERS fears without hitting you over the head with it. (This episode, in general, is light on the KILL ALL LAWYERS stuff, as well as on Trump commentary. There’s just enough to remind the viewer that it’s still weighing on everyone, especially Diane.) A delivery man barges in, making a loud noise and spooking everyone. Yep: they’re definitely still on edge. (A little goes a long way: these are the kind of details I love.)

Also, I appreciate that Jay is running the training. Last week I was impressed/surprised he knew how to deal with the ricin scare, and now I’m assuming that office safety is part of his job (or something he’s volunteer to help with).

Marissa walks in and whispers something to Lucca; we don’t hear what it is.

Someone asks a question over the phone. It’s Liz, but it’s impossible to tell since the connection is terrible. This is relatable. I don’t even want to know how much time I’ve lost at work waiting for clients to figure out how to improve their phone connections.

Liz’s connection is terrible because she’s in the car. And why is she in the car? Because she’s taking her son (!!!) to a doctor’s appointment. I’m so glad the writers didn’t forget about Liz’s son. There aren’t enough parents in The Good Verse.

Liz drops her son off at school, where she learns that his favorite teacher has been fired. They let him go in the middle of the year? Sorry. Not the point.

Liz jumps into action as she heads into work, getting on the phone with the principal and explaining that this teacher was one of the few who was able to get through to her son. Liz walks past Lucca and we see a brief snippet of what’s going on with Lucca before going back to Liz. (Can’t remember if it was at this point or slightly later I realized we were going to get info on what was happening with Lucca, but whenever I had that realization I had to pause the TV because I was so excited about the idea. One could say I liked this episode.)

Liz points out to the (white) principal that the fired teacher was one of few people of color at the school. “Our push for diversity is renowned,” responds the principal. Hm.

Speaking of diversity, before I forget to mention it, after last week I was worried about TGF centering itself on its white leads and becoming too enamored with Marissa. This episode focuses on Liz and Lucca, and while this focus is a little overdue, it does make me hopeful that TGF understands that its black characters are also leads, and that an episode can focus on two black women. That’s especially important for the show to do after it pretty much traded Barbara for Liz.

(I’m still so conflicted on the lack of Barbara. On the one hand, the writers seem to have a great grasp on Liz and they did not understand how to write Barbara at all. But I don’t like calling it a good move to get rid of Barbara, because if they’d just written her character well and given her consistent development, if her fourth episode also showed her POV (ok, fine, her fourth episode was actually the most Barbara-centric one but it wasn’t like this) and expanded what we knew about her life, then maybe I wouldn’t be writing something right now about how the writers had to write her out. I’m a broken record about this, I know, but it doesn’t seem fair to praise the writing for Liz when I know the only reason we have Liz is because the writers failed Barbara/Erica.)

“Yes, I’ve heard about your push quite a bit at the school assemblies,” Liz tells the principal (like she already thought the school wasn’t doing enough…). She also says she thinks they’ll be in touch, since at this point she knows she’s going to try to help the teacher keep his job.

Lucca asks Jay to help her with something; he agrees. As she walks off, Liz approaches him. Now that Jay’s helping Lucca, he doesn’t have time to help Liz, so Marissa jumps in. Liz is reluctant but she goes along with it.

In an informal meeting of the name partners in Diane’s office, Adrian explains that they’ve had lots of cancellations for their party. “The lawyer killings. Our chemical scare,” Diane understands. (Um, why would these people have RSVP’d yes in the first place? The party wasn’t thought up before the chemical scare. It’s what Adrian talks to Diane about at the end of Day 422.)

“I say ‘fuck it,’” Diane responds. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” Liz comments. Indeed she has. “Making up for lost time,” Diane winks at the camera. She doesn’t, but, like, come on. This line is extremely meta.

Diane then swivels in her chair and stares Liz down. It’s kind of comical-- not because it’s silly, but because Diane really doesn’t give a fuck and she doesn’t care who knows it.

Adrian picks up on the tension and asks Diane what’s going on after Liz exits. Diane laughs and answers a call on her laptop instead of responding.

It’s Kurt! He’s away on a trial somewhere, sitting in a hotel room. To be completely honest with you, I didn’t remember where Diane and Kurt’s relationship stood. I assumed from the fact that Diane was alone and microdosing they were separated. I also believed this was a pretty safe guess based on the seven years of Alicia/Peter relationship limbo we had to endure in TGW. These writers have never met a separation they didn’t want to prolong until the absolute last minute possible.

And indeed, even though Diane and Kurt were on good terms in 1x10, they’re still “giving it time.” Then the connection breaks up (‘cause miscommunication and technology being unreliable are THEMES this week) and Kurt thinks Diane said the separation is over. Diane closes the laptop instead of attempting to call back. I dunno, I feel like if I was in the middle of a convo like that I’d call back on a cell phone, send a text, something…?

Now the teacher is in Liz’s office and she’s offering to represent him in arbitration. “You are the only teacher to break through Malcolm’s shell,” she explains. She continues by saying that she’s always advised to put him in private school, “but if everybody abandons the public school system, it’ll implode.” Yes, thank you, Liz! (Also, I see why you didn’t get along with Alicia. I’m sure Alicia would also say she supports public schools but, um, she wouldn’t send her own children there unless she absolutely had to. And Liz would find that hypocritical.) 

Liz then calls in Maia. That’s right. Maia is working! THANK GOODNESS. Maia has almost nothing to do this ep, and the little that she has to do is work. Yay!!!

Malcolm’s public school is a charter school, which is… not exactly what springs to mind when I think of “believing in the public school system.” I was a bit surprised the writers didn’t delve into this, especially since other than a few mentions about the threat of unionization, it doesn’t really matter that it’s a charter. And charter schools are their own can of worms.

Elsbeth barges in (HELLO!!!) and only Maia recognizes her. She’s in the wrong place-- she’s looking for Lucca-- so she compliments Liz’s jacket and leaves.

Marissa goes to the school and pretends to be the mother of a second grader. She rambles a bit too much about her TOTALLY REAL husband, but it works. Marissa makes a vaguely racist comment to try to get a teacher to make an explicitly racist comment. She doesn’t get that, but she does get an explanation for why Mr. Coulson (Malcolm’s fave teacher) was let go: he’s gay.

Arbitration begins, and Nancy Crozier is representing the school. Seems she’s on the PTA. So… she has a kid?! I guess that doesn’t surprise me, but now I’m curious about the personal lives of all the recurring characters.

When it comes out that the principal had fired a teacher from her previous school (a Catholic school) because he was gay, we immediately get a reaction shot where Maia’s visible. It’s not Sad Puppy Owen from 4x09, but it’s just a little thing that clues us in to how Maia’s feeling.

The school used an algorithm to decide which teachers to fire so there would be no bias. Maia jumps in with the counterargument before I can scream it at my screen: “All algorithms are pointless unless they are based on good data.” Absolutely. An algorithm is not inherently objective.

I know I am now nitpicking stock footage (would you expect anything else from me?) but in this stock footage of Chicago it is Christmastime (see the red and green lights on the buildings) but in the show it is March.

Also, not at all the point, but one of the buildings in the stock footage now has a huge TRUMP sign on it so I am going to headcanon that Diane (and the others) have to walk past it every day, multiple times, ‘cause I think that’s fitting.

Now we’re at the poorly-attended RBL office party. There’s a lot of champagne and very few people. There are 18 non-RBL people there; Colin Morello makes 19.  

I still don’t get why Colin has to be a series regular, but I do like that the writers are making full use of the fact that he and Liz used to be coworkers. They chat about work for a few seconds until Colin sees Lucca through the glass walls (so! helpful!) with a man. He instantly gets jealous.

Guests 20 and 21 arrive. They’re the algorithm boys from last season. One of them hates a lot of things, including swearing. And, apparently, elevators. What he does like, though, is Marissa. Adrian refers to Marissa by name and as an investigator, which I’m sure would make Marissa happy if she knew about the interaction.

Diane and Liz chat at the bar. Liz asks for advice on dealing with Nancy Crozier, but Diane sees right through it: “This is a thing you do, isn’t it? You ask for advice in order to ingratiate yourself.” Probably true.

“You know, your ‘fuck it’ mode is starting to feel more like ‘fuck you’ mode,” Liz responds. What powers of observation you have, Liz! It’s almost like Diane walked into your office last week, said “fuck you” and left! Oh, wait…

(Also, Liz is wrong. It was Liz’s response to Diane’s ‘fuck it’ mode that made Diane angry enough to say ‘fuck you.” What’s Liz’s endgame?)

“Just appreciating your style,” Diane responds. “I’m just doing my job,” Liz says. Uh-huh. It’s her job to drink with Diane, pretend to ask for advice (ooh, it is a pattern), and then report back to Adrian? “And using what I confide in you to undercut me?” Diane counters. Liz sighs. “Look, I thought Adrian already knew you were thinking of leaving. That’s all,” she explains. Um. Does that track? I thought Liz approached Adrian about bringing on a new partner and told him about Diane, but she could be telling the truth. I am going through Day 415 to see exactly what Liz said, and omg, now I have to watch the Rindell nonsense again and it’s just highlighting how great Day 429 is. The All Access player really needs a 10 second skip feature.

Ok, Liz DOES tell Adrian “She never said anything to you?” so it’s possible that she was trying to be proactive about a situation, not trying to undercut Diane. The whole thing where she suggested Diane take time off and then told Adrian that Diane requested that time… not sure how to spin that one. But best case scenario here is that Liz is just blunt and didn’t mean anything against Diane. A girl can dream, right?

Diane says “it’s more fun to go at each other” in response to Liz, and nope, NOPE. 100% disagree. It is far more fun to watch them be friends. This plot is not fun and I spend every second it’s on screen trying to figure out a way to interpret seemingly malicious actions as benevolent. So… yeah. Sorry, Diane. It’s more fun for you to be friends. And you seem like you could use a friend right now. (Did Diane lose all her friends?)

Diane does offer Liz advice on dealing with Nancy: “She plays at being the nice girl while being tough. She’s good. But her rhythm is thrown off by objections.” The first part, definitely (I’m shocked that still works for her). The second part, is that a thing we’ve seen before?

Elsbeth arrives at the party and Diane’s excited to see her. Who wouldn’t be excited to see Elsbeth? Elsbeth is the best.

Elsbeth doesn’t seem to understand why the offices don’t have furniture (answer: they do; it’s been put in storage for the party). But she doesn’t spend too long wondering, because Diane asks her to sit down and compliments her dress. That’s right: Diane compliments Elsbeth’s wardrobe.

“Ooh! What do you think they’re talking about?” Elsbeth remarks when she sees Lucca spit out her drink. And then things get meta.

“It’s weird,” Elsbeth says. “We’re just the background characters to their story.”

“And they’re just the background characters to our story,” Diane points out.

“And we’re all just background characters to his story,” Elsbeth says, speaking of the bartender. “He could be the hero, and we could be the villains of the story.”

“Or we’re the heroes, and he’s the villain,” Diane spins. “That’s what keeps us humble. Not knowing,” Elsbeth says. “Or paranoid,” Diane counters.

I love this exchange. Is it incredibly on the nose? Is it an all caps Thesis Statement for the episode? Is it one of the least subtle things I’ve ever seen? Is it as obvious about the point it’s making as I am being right now, saying the same thing four times? Hell yes, it is. Is it still great? Yep.

The show is poking fun at itself, Elsbeth is exactly the kind of character that would start talking like this, and I totally believe that Diane would be game for this kind of conversation given her state of mind. It fits to have Diane thinking about these things-- even if only while making small talk with Elsbeth-- when she’s already questioning so much.

(I also like how every time Elsbeth suggests something that would have negative implications for Diane’s view of herself-- that she’s a background character, that she’s a villain-- Diane recenters the narrative. I am not sure that Diane’s doing it on purpose, but, uh, she is used to seeing herself as the hero.) (I don’t mean that as a negative thing! Just an observation!)

Diane turns the conversation even darker, because Elsbeth is a surprisingly good confidant: “You know, last week, I was walking down the street, and there was this homeless man digging for bottles in the trash and yelling at the top of his voice about the president and the country and how we’re all going insane. And I realized: that’s what my inner monologue sounds like. And that when I decided. I’ve got to change.” “To what?” “To someone who’s not going crazy.”

Well. There’s a lot going on there. As seems to be the theme for Diane this season, she’s feeling what everyone else is, but taking it one step farther.

Elsbeth doesn’t know how to react, so she compliments Diane. Then she compliments Diane’s necklace, and Diane gives it to her, along with her belt.. I… don’t know that I like this. It’s cute, but it seems so off-kilter it also worries me.

“I never thought you liked me, Diane,” Elsbeth says. “Hey, you know what? That’s my fault,” Diane admits. That’s sweet!

I don’t know what to make of this scene as a whole. Part of me thinks it’s a nice little Diane/Elsbeth moment where Diane’s No Fucks Given policy allows her to connect with a peer. A bigger part is worried that this scene might look like a warning sign (for what, I don’t know) once we get a little farther into the season.

I don’t get why this Colin/Lucca scene is here, in Liz’s story, right after a scene Liz also isn’t in. I understand that we have to see it before we know what’s going on for the story to work, but something (in editing, writing, or directing) could’ve been done here so this didn’t stand out. Also, Lucca invited Colin to the party, knowing she was pregnant and he was the father, but she has no plans of telling him he’s the father? Alrighty then.

And now for a third Liz-free scene in Liz’s section of the show (this one is, at least, related to her case). Marissa and Maia head down to the 22nd, where everyone’s talking and dancing and there’s music blasting. It is a much more exciting scene than the 23rd. But Marissa and Maia don’t join the party: instead, they discuss algorithms.

Nancy, who has now practiced law in Chicago for 8 full years, literally says “I’m just a small-town girl from Michigan.” I’m going to take that as a shout-out to the fans.

Liz’s son is throwing a ball against the wall, repeatedly, and driving Lucca crazy. She tells him it’s annoying. And because Lucca as a Parent is a THEME, we get to see Lucca interacting with a child (and, of course, Lucca’s reactions to her interactions with a child).

“And would you consider state-mandated testing to be a subjective data point?” the mediator asks. I don’t know if I would call it subjective but I would call it a terrible metric! (But I’m ahead of the episode. The minute I heard state-mandated testing I was ready to rant about testing practices and the costs of teaching to a test. I’m a little shocked that Liz didn’t go there immediately.)

Lucca dared Malcolm to make something out of paperclips, and now he’s totally caught up in crafting a paperclip zombie. Awww. My favorite detail about this scene is that Liz picks up a paperclip to help her son with his project, even as she’s still thinking about her case.

Liz realizes something: Malcolm’s score on the state-mandated test went down when he had a better teacher. He got a 92 last year, and a 73 this year. I assume those are percentages, not percentiles? I don’t recall much about these exams, but aren’t these sorts of things usually scored by percentile and not accuracy? Oh, my God, why do I care?

Tbh, this is just making me really grateful for my own education. I didn’t get a single letter grade or percentage based grade until I was 10 or 11 (maybe on a math test before that?), and grades didn’t “count” until 6th grade. We also weren’t ever assigned homework until 3rd grade. I have some complaints about my (private) elementary school, but I think that system worked well. We could learn without the fear of failing an exam. And while I’m sure I would’ve done just fine if I’d had grades when I was a kid (I love structure and I always have), I bet it really helped the kids who don’t test well.

What I’m saying is, and I’m probably preaching to the choir, teaching to a test, particularly a state-mandated standardized test that will determine staffing and funding, is a terrible idea. It doesn’t help the kids learn, it requires teachers to spend time on lessons that may not be as beneficial to their students in the long-run as something that builds critical thinking skills, and it encourages teachers to lie and cheat to keep their jobs.

Liz, Marissa, and Maia get to work going through the exams from the last few years. Maia spots the eraser marks. Of course there are eraser marks.

I wonder how many of the characters on this show (and on TGW) went to public school. My guess is that the list is pretty short.

The cheating teacher denies that she cheated. She claims the students just realized their mistake at the last minute. All of them. Repeatedly. It’s ridiculous, and Maia’s pretty persuasive. (Yay, Maia!) They still need to find proof, but it’s obvious they’re on the right track.

Kurt is in Diane’s office with some roses. Marissa texts Diane “Where r u? Kurt’s here!!” AGAIN WITH THE “WHERE R U”! Marissa would not write like that on an iPhone!!

Marissa asks Kurt, the ballistics expert, if he knows any eraser forensic experts. Not a dumb question, because such people exist! Even if Liz/Maia/Marissa end up with the wrong expert witness initially (they grab Lucca’s witness instead), eraser forensic experts exist!  

I don’t understand Maia’s wardrobe. I cannot find the words to describe her style.

When it becomes clear beyond a doubt that the tests were tampered with, all Nancy wants to know is if she can see her daughter’s test.

Liz tells Mr. Coulson the good news, but… it’s too late. He’s accepted a position at a private school that will pay more. “I still believe in public schools,” he says as he leaves. Ah, a TGW (TGF) victory.

As Liz contemplates her next move, she sees Malcolm and Lucca sharing a sweet moment. Aww.

[panticwritten]

Jay on the Striders

Jay is one of my many para(me)s in my daydreams. The Striders are more paras pulled from Homestuck There are eight of them in the Cube. Two pre-scratch Daves. Two pre-scratch Dirks. Post-scratch Dave. Post-scratch Dirk. Davesprite. Hal, Dirk’s Auto Responder.

I think this is the first thing I’ve posted from Jay’s point of view, which is cool.

PSA: Jax is the certified Best, please be prepared for that.

So, I mostly wanted to write Jax and Dave interacting. Mostly Jax. And Jay accusing the (7/8 of the) Striders of being mother hens when uh. Yeah. Jay’s the oldest out of all us sibs, hahaha, so they’re kind of the ruler of mother hen land.

Word count: 3,838

TW:

Mentions of prior abuse

Fairly severe self-loathing

Loss of a family member

Casual references to character death

Abuse related anxiety

Humans will pack bond with anything.

Look at Roombas. They don’t even look like humans, not like an animal, no reason to think they might have feelings. They rove around, picking up crumbs. Round pieces of hardware, and still they—

We.

—have an urge to treat them as living things with feelings and emotions.

That said, my lab has always had its fair share of visitors when I let slip news of a new android, clone, or piece of machinery. Recently, a coarse scientist from another universe has been finding his way here. Connor comes to check in, now and then, looking through my new models. Sawyer and our other siblings sometimes come to see me.

Some days I wish they wouldn’t. Others, I wish they would visit more often.

Visitors come for help, occasionally. Sometimes, I’m the first stop, checking in before resorting to the magic so easily found in the Cube. Sometimes, I am the last resort. Most often, I’m called when they need discretion.

Mercenary clans asking for new equipment. I’ve had to keep a lock on that sort of work since Sawyer found out about the shackles. They were never meant to be used against us. I never intended that, but there were safeties in the design for that eventuality. The original human keeps a much closer eye on me now, likely flicking through the records in their Room as I work.

I smile at the thought, tightening a screw in Jax’s shoulder.

Sawyer likes to think they aren’t a busybody, that they don’t pry, but they watch people far more often than they let on. You can see my thoughts right now, can’t you, reading those journals?

But then, we’re a family and they mean well. I’m the last person in the Cube to critique anyone’s methods. Morally gray, the way Connor refers to it, is an understatement.

But, as I said, humans will pack bond with anything. Some more than others. There are a handful of people that will come just to talk to the various robotic projects I have.

Then there’s the Striders.

“So, I didn’t accidentally fuck them up or anything, right?” Dave asks. I’ve been around the block with this one enough to identify the anxiety under the soft chuckle he tacks onto the end of that. “Like, is their arm stuck like that forever? Wait, no, that’s dumb, I know, you can just replace the arm if it’s that bad, but—”

He cuts off when I glance over to see him turning a stray spring over in his hands. His face points toward Jax, though I can’t tell if he’s really looking at them through those sunglasses. I smile anyway, turning back to my patient.

Since the moment I acquired this space for my labs, it seems I’ve had at least one of them loitering at any given time. They latched onto the lab of an emotionally stunted clone, back when common talk was that I was torturing people back here. They certainly aren’t the only ones, but they’re the ones that feel the most like they belong. Like family.

Except one. The oldest one. The version of Dirk from the pre-scratch Earth within their universe clusters.

He used my servers, and I thought it was innocuous until I grew curious of what he was doing. I haven’t seen him in nearly a year, but that could be because I came so close to killing him the last time he was here. Even a prideful, abusive, antagonistic asshole knows when he’s not wanted in a home, it seems.

“What do you think, Jax?” I redirect his question as I delve deeper into their shoulder, probing for the broken connection. “Do you think you’ll live?”

“No, because I’m not alive, although I promise I know you’re being facetious,” they answer, the beginnings of what I know will be a long prattling loop. That should calm him down. They talk nearly as much as he does, and the flow of speech seems to help them both. “I will, however, be fine. I think it’s a few sections to the left, though. The broken line. I can almost feel it.”

A few weeks later, the others started hanging around. The first of the pleasant Striders to knock on my door was the post-scratch version of Dave.

I already knew D had to be a sweetheart underneath the layers he’d covered himself in, just based on my limited interaction with the other younger version of him outside of the lab. D’s slightly better adjusted than this one. Doesn’t try to cover it up when he shows emotion, vulnerability. Doesn’t jump at the gentle sighing of machinery in the labs.

Doesn’t break down if he topples a project or shatters a beaker. Though, that only happened once before he become comfortable enough in the lab to relax. He didn’t know how I would react, and I’m used to that.

Most of my siblings are the same way. Skittish, assuming that things will go badly because that’s how they were raised. I’d like to have more words with Dave’s ‘Bro,’ but I presume he knows I’m not a fan of his after I wiped all traces of his ‘work’ from the Cube.

I enjoy the three (four?) Daves’ presence more than I think I should. D asks about all of my projects when he stops by, lets me bounce things off of him when I hit a roadblock. Most of it is silence from him, or flat reminders of things I’ve already said, but it usually helps.

He’s the reason I managed to create the first real model of J355, named out of sentimentality and exhaustion. Well, him, the younger Dirk, and Hal. The earlier attempts were too buggy, overheated too much. We finally got the AI working, but I was so caught up in having a working AI I forgot what I needed the damn thing for.

“I still want to check the rest of your circuitry,” I murmur. “I don’t know what you get up to out there, but I’d rather take preventative measures than have you short out in the caves.”

“Shit, that could happen?” I don’t look at Dave, keeping as relaxed as possible. “How likely is that, do you think?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I tighten another screw, and Jax shifts uncomfortably. I think that one attaches to their neck, so it’ll likely be a little uncomfortable for a few days. “As long as we keep up with regular repairs they’ll be fine.”

“But if it does happen, just theoretically.” The nervous timbre to his voice has vanished, but the speed is faster, rhythm syncopated. Cover panic with cool affectations, it’s something we all do around here. “I just gotta ask how that would be handled. Like, middle of the caves. Dark, spooky, suddenly my source of light and my friend are both out of commission. Possibly in danger, doesn’t matter, I can handle it, but—”

1.2 couldn’t feel the way they did, not for the work we do. They had to either be capable of turning those feelings off or not having them at all. I was reminded of this when they first refused to complete a test on the clone group.

Not to mention the lingering glitches I couldn’t quite fix without tripping a hard reset. I nearly did, but D stopped me. I would have regretted it if I had gone through with it.

I had to start over.

I was as gentle as I could be when I told them that I couldn’t use them in the lab. They were still crushed. I still don’t know how many of their emotions are real versus simulation, the software was so buggy. At this point, it likely doesn’t matter.

“Dave?” He shuts up, and I hear him shift behind me. I tap a dented joint deep in Jax’s shoulder. I’ll worry about that when he isn’t here, when he can’t blame it on himself. It should keep until then. “You have the key to my lab, correct?”

“Wh—” I hear him shuffle behind me, then make an affirmative sound.

“So, even if that did happen it would be fine.” I withdraw and screw the panel shut, moving on to the next one while I scribble a note about the joint on a pad of paper. “You could bring them back here. No one would be mad at you. There’s nothing that could permanently destroy them, alright?”

“But…”

They befriended—surprise, surprise—another of the Striders, the sprite. They fell in with the lot of them, but those two are closer than I would have thought. J355 1.2 still visits me from time to time, and that makes me happier than I would ever admit to them.

Then D started working with the mercenaries, the Scouts. He doesn’t come by as often, though I’m not bothered. Everyone has responsibilities.

It was Hal, the young Dirk’s now-humanoid AI, that worked with me to create new algorithms for the next model. He never told me if he approved of the idea of creating a mid-level AI with a nearly suppressed emotional core, and I never asked. I just needed someone who would help me with the projects I would rather not share with the rest of the Cube.

Sawyer may be able to see them, and I may be willing to enact them, but I’m more than aware of how many of them look. Everyone knows I do questionable things, but I won’t parade it around. I know better than that.

I try a different tactic, stilling my hand in Jax’s back and leaning forward.

“Have you shown him your designs?” I ask them. I catch, this time, my voice rising into the cadence of a delighted parent. Connor, my siblings, and the other Striders would have a field day with that. Several field days.

Jax whirs, a whistling in the back of their throat that I’ve come to associate with excitement. “No, I haven’t! I should, though, shouldn’t I? That’s a friend thing, one of the ones I can do. Want to do.” They shift, slightly, but still again when their limp and exposed arm rattles against the table.

I place my instruments on the tray beside the table and tell them to wait a moment. Dave turns his head to track me as I walk away, but must look back because his words aren’t directed at me when he speaks.

“Designs?”

Jax simply whirs again, and I hear them bounce on their place on the table.

In the end, we created a lab hand that could follow instructions, but was intuitive enough to be more of an extension of myself than a tool. It was perfect. It had a low emotional bandwidth, low enough to do the work I needed done.

High enough to express that it felt like a part of the family. High enough to stop me from crossing the worst of the lines I dance around. I needed that, I think, something that knew everything and could still stand to be around me. Could keep me from making mistakes.

Then everything with Jordan happened. AA. The memories.

J-Negative.

I return to them with a thick stack of papers. Dave looks between the two of us, and I’m relieved to see intrigue overriding the Strider Mother Hen Instinct™ (I’m going to bar Sawyer from my lab the next time they manage to get me adopting their speech patterns) and his hero complex, exactly as planned.

“Which one’s the one you want next, the one on top? Or the bottom?”

They shake their head and beckon me closer. I oblige, dropping the stack on the table beside them.

“I could explain the organization system, but it would be boring and self-aggrandizing.” They shuffle through the papers with their working hand, and I can hear the smile in their gently undulating voice. “The latter would be an ego boost, the former would lower the coolness factor of this reveal.”

“By how much?” Dave chimes in, and I smile to myself, returning to my work. “Uncool enough that my B-”

My stomach turns over in the instant he pauses.

“That Dirk would shut it down?”

J-Negative got out of the cells. She was going to bring back Tchaikovsky. Or open another door. Any number of possibilities, really, most of which I’ve talked about with Hal.

It disguising itself as one of the more essential of the Sawyer siblings and hunting her down was one of the better outcomes. It making the choice, with Sawyer and I standing right there was a good outcome. If it had let go of her arm, she would have vanished. If it hadn’t pulled her into the short term memories, who knows what she could have done.

That’s what we tell ourselves, at least. Hal was almost as torn up about it as I was. Am.

Almost.

And the younger Dave’s started coming to the lab with Dirk more often. Maybe Hal told them to come, maybe the aforementioned mother hen instinct extended to me even back then. I don’t know.

We speculated what could have happened, how 2.16 could have made it. How it could have ended differently. None of it was good. None of it was acceptable. But it made it hurt a little less, knowing it really did make the right choice.

“Dave.” Jax says in a deadpan, distracting us both from his slip-of-the-tongue, but they evidently can’t suppress a rattle in their chest that nearly always comes as a precursor to laughter. Or, perhaps they do it on purpose. I can’t tell. “Dirk would be ecstatic to hear all about this radical shifting algorithm with which I rate my design priorities. You would be on a one way trip to a refreshing nap because your grasp on advanced mathematics and coding is tenuous at best.”

“Hang on just a—”

“Don’t even try to convince me of your hacking skills. There’s a reason Sollux programs our maps, not you.” They finally extract one of the more precisely detailed plans from the stack. “And this is, objectively, Fairly Advanced Shit compared to that.”

Dirk, on the other hand, deals with grief the same way I do and was more than willing to help me throw myself into my work. According to him, he wasn’t very close with 2.16, but he does live with Hal and Hal knew that I needed more healing than I had let on.

I tried uploading its programming to a new shell, but it wasn’t the same. It had all of 2.16’s memories leading up to that day, but it didn’t know exactly what happened other than that it had been destroyed.

But I knew. I knew.

So Dirk helped me change the algorithms. Sometimes Hal came, plugged himself into the server to look for inconsistencies and broken code. All three alpha Daves would come, the older one taking up his role as a sounding board for all of us, the younger ones making sure we didn’t run ourselves into the ground or take ourselves too seriously.

“Jax, be nice,” I chide. They pause to look back at me, brow raising into a smooth arc and clearly calling hypocrisy. “Nicer, at least.”

They disregard that, turning back to the still-waiting Strider. Both D and Dirk have made a point of telling me that they see more of his real smiles—smiles that he doesn’t try to hide when someone outside of his circle sees—since he started spending time with Jax. They seem good for each other.

“Alright, Dave, hold onto your shades or this might blow your mind.” They slowly unfold the paper, and Dave adjusts his sunglasses with a smirk. They pause before flipping the last fold, straightening up more. “Also, I think this will make you feel much better. About the possibility of me getting hurt, I mean. If me getting hurt was even remotely possible, considering I’m a literal robot. I’m not like Hal or V or (does AA count?) or, you know, any of the other sort of machines. I’m honest-to-god, homemade, artificial.”

They don’t sound like they’re going to stop any time soon, and Dave has gotten noticeably paler, so I flick the back of their neck. “Hey. Just show him.”

We did it, eventually, creating a hybrid of the two processors. At first, I thought 3.21 would be more like 2.16. They were cold in the beginning, in the new learning phase, until they met this Dave, the nervous one, and all of the best parts carried over from 1.2 started to come out.

They learned so fast. When I asked how they felt they were doing a month after they came online, they processed longer than I thought they would. They told me they felt loved, the same way you might tell someone it’s sunny outside, and returned to the 3DS I had given them not long before.

Which they had taken apart and put back together within an hour and were using it to make (what I found out later to be) a port to play the games faster, without taking up their hands.

Needless to say, I needed a few minutes to recover from that. The Striders agree that our being able to raise them to feel loved is not only mind-boggling but a massive relief. We all had dysfunctional childhoods, and that’s putting it mildly.

They lay the design on the table, Dave sliding from the counter to come look (and assist, since maneuvering a large sheet of paper is difficult with one hand). He runs gentle fingers over the blueprint, quiet next to Jax’s continued whirring.

I nudge them again. “Which one is it? I can’t see.”

“I drew it on the sixth. This month. Finished it at…” A buzz, while they find the archived information. “Six fifteen in the morning.”

I almost tell them that I still don’t know which one that is, but they continue.

“With the rose gold bolts. Darker synthetics with crow designs—tattoos—copper nails, amber eyes. Um.” They hum, and I grin when the image of it appears in my mind’s eye. “Shorter hair, I left the color to your discretion.”

They still wanted to do their duties in the lab, but by then I had more than enough smaller helpers around the place. I didn’t need them as much as I needed 2.16. Unlike their predecessors, I made them out of desperation rather than a necessity.

I was terrified of letting them leave the lab, knowing that it isn’t safe out there. Hell, 2.16 was right next to The Lounge, the safest place in the entire Cube complex, and it was destroyed. D talked me down when them asking to run around with the Striders practically threw me into a panic.

He came up with the idea of the designs. Total transparency. Real time downloads of their memories. If something happens and their body is destroyed or their local data is corrupted, I can reupload them into a new body. One they designed and picked out.

That soothed my nerves enough, though I still wasn’t completely at ease. They started exploring the Cube with a handful of others, improving the mapping systems. The young Dave’s been working on that with a group of friends ever since the Cube expanded a few years ago. The progress has increased exponentially with an android on their team.

“Think of it like this, Dave.” I see him look up in my peripherals, but I can finally see the broken connection. I try to keep my voice soothing. “This is a lot like your history with your time abilities. Mistakes lead to dead Daves. Dead Daves are awful, it’s traumatic when dead Daves happen, but they are far from the end of the world so long as we plan accordingly.”

I tug on the shifted connection, and it slips back into place. Jax’s arm tenses, a soft hum emitting from their shoulder as everything comes back online. Now, I watch Dave while I smooth Jax’s synthetic skin back over the mechanics on their back.

A carefully neutral expression stares back at me, and I smile in response.

“I know you worry about your friends, that you want to protect them,” I say slowly, carefully, while Jax flexes their fixed arm. They can handle the synthetics there, so I push my rolling chair to face the both of them. It’ll keep them distracted, from derailing me. Dave needs to hear this. “This is not something you have to carry on your shoulders. That’s my job. You don’t need to worry about breaking them.”

Eventually, they asked about 2.16’s memories, why it wasn’t around anymore. They asked to download the data.

I couldn’t say no. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

It was the first time I had the experience of hearing the grinding in their neck symbolizing tears they aren’t capable of shedding. A warped, crushing version of their excited whirring I had already become so used to.

They balance their time more evenly between home and friends now.

Dave looks back down at the blueprint. He traces more of it. He sniffs, his posture portraying indifference, but his profile allows me to see him blinking furiously behind his sunglasses.

Silence stands in the lab for awhile, Dave staring at the blueprint, Jax staring at Dave, me staring at both of them. I hold my breath, waiting. For Dave to say something. For Jax to break the silence. For either of them to move.

He looks back up at Jax, a brilliant grin lighting up his face.

“Can I see some more of these?” His voice breaks on the last word, but the flicker of disappointment I’m used to seeing from him doesn’t come. My heart swells at that, but neither of them are looking at me now.

Jax immediately jumps into action, sliding off of the table and rifling through the stack of prints. They pull another out and smooth it over the first. They lean over the table, explaining the design to Dave.

I take the opportunity to back out, letting them chatter on. They’ll be at it for bit, until Dave gets tired. Until Jax notices and makes him go back to the flat.

I don’t know when I started thinking of them as more of a child than a machine, or even a partner. Maybe it was when they first came home after trip into the In-Between had sheared a portion of their head off (this Dave wasn’t there, thank god, I can’t imagine how he would have reacted to that). It could have been when they came back from their first week in charge of the body on the outside with a they/them/theirs magnet fixed to their chest.

I know I was far, far gone by the time they sat me down and told me that their new name was Jax.

[jamaninja]

Olicity fic: Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner - chapter 1

Word count: 2,719 Rating: Teen Summary: Felicity has spent five years running from a past at MIT that she'd rather forget entirely. But one day, she gets an email from an old friend and she gets dragged back into the dangerous world of team card counting. It's up to her new team to help her escape it, once and for all.

Inspired by the movie 21, canon divergent after 2.14, "Time of Death."

Author’s note: Hi y'all!

It's been a while since I've posted an Olicity story, but it's been because I was kinda strapped for inspiration. Then the movie "21" returned to Netflix and all the plot bunnies started attacking. A lot of the dialogue from the flashbacks comes from the movie, so it's not a prerequisite to watch it to read this fic -- but you still should! Because it's a good movie.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy!

Read on: AO3 | ff.net

Chapter 1

The email consisted of exactly two sentences and a number.

I’m in town. We need to talk. 755-5832

It was the shortest and simplest message in the world, and to most people it would have been pretty innocuous. But the minute Felicity saw the sender, she knew there was nothing innocuous about it.

How the hell had he found her? she thought furiously to herself. She’d spent years and years trying to make sure that no one from that part of her past could track her down and here he was, walking right up to her front door and knocking on it, bold as brass.

So now she was faced with a dilemma. Should she call him? Or should she ignore him?

Her first instinct was to ignore him. It had been five years, and five years for a damn reason. She was trying to put all of it behind her, and calling him would be like turning back around and running back to who she had been. She’d made so many strides to move on, and calling him would erase all of that.

But...in spite of all of that…

There had been a time when he had been one of her best friends. When he had been there with her, through thick and thin. There had even been a time when she would have looked to him like a brother.

She glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder. Oliver and John and Sara were too busy sparring to pay attention to her, and for once, she felt a little glad to be left out of their exercises. The last thing she wanted was for them to notice this.

As the three heroes were going through another round, Felicity slipped her panda flats back onto her feet and quietly crept out of the foundry, her hands dipping into pocket of her jacket to feel for her phone. Once she was outside, she pulled it out and dialed the number.

The line on the other end rang twice before he answered.

“Felicity. Thank God you called.”

It was a curious thing, hearing his voice after all those years. She thought it would have made her afraid, but instead it just made her sad.

“Myron,” she murmured, her hand running nervously through her hair. “How the hell did you find me?”

“I can’t go into that right now. Listen, we need to meet up in person. Can we go for a drink or something?”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to get into it over the phone,” he said anxiously. “Can we meet up? Please?”

She took in a breath. Felicity could feel in her bones that something was wrong. Myron wouldn’t have reached out to her after five years of complete radio silence for nothing.

“I can meet with you tomorrow. The Black Tavern, in the Glades. Six o’clock.”

“OK. Thank you, Felicity.” His voice had almost flooded with relief. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and let out a deep sigh, her breath fogging up in the ice cold air. Though she missed Myron, there was a reason they hadn’t been in contact for five years. The fact that he reached out to her for the first time in so long could only mean one thing, and if she was right, she probably made a huge mistake in agreeing to meet him.

“You OK?”

Felicity almost jumped out of her skin. She whipped her head around and saw Sara standing a few feet away from her in her leather jacket, her head cocked to the side as she stared at her with X-ray blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Felicity nodded, a little too quickly. “I just...that was my mom. She likes to check in every now and then. See if I’m eating and breathing. She always likes to say stuff like, ‘You ruined my figure, the least you could do is give me a call every now and then.’ But if you’ve ever met my mom, you know that her figure wasn’t ruined in the slightest. She’s in better shape than I am, though with all the Big Belly Burger she eats, I’m not sure how she manages that.”

She was rambling. She knew it. She could hear it, she could feel the words rolling off her tongue in an unstoppable flow, but she also couldn’t stop herself. It was her reflex defense mechanism, much like Sara knocking someone on their ass was hers.

The corner of Sara’s mouth quirked upward, but she didn’t comment on the rambling. Instead, she said, “Well, come back inside, then. It’s way too cold out here.”

Felicity nodded and followed the other blonde back inside, praying that Sara hadn’t heard too much of her conversation.

Six years ago, MIT

Felicity Smoak was the most scared she had ever been in her entire life.

Earlier that day, her Nonlinear Equations professor handed back her paper, but instead of a grade on the back like she expected, there was a single note in bright red scrawl: Please come to my office after your last class.

This was perhaps the worst thing she could imagine. What had she done? Was her paper so awful that it didn’t even deserve a grade? Or was she suspected of plagiarism? Or was she being kicked out of the class? Or was she being kicked out of MIT? Would she have to go back to Las Vegas in shame without having achieved her goal?

Worst of all — was her mother right? Was she too young to be going off to college by herself?

Her last class was Analysis Algorithms, and it didn’t end until eight o’clock. But surely Professor Kuttler would have known that? He wouldn’t have asked her to meet him after her last class if he hadn’t.

Once she was finished for the day, she slowly made her trek across the MIT campus to the mathematics building where Professor Kuttler’s office was. Once she reached it, she noticed the light was still on, so she didn’t have to worry that he had already retired for the night. With a shaking arm, she reached up and knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” a voice called from inside.

Every muscle in her body was weighted down with dread as she twisted the doorknob and walked in. But much to her surprise, Professor Kuttler wasn’t alone. He was seated at his desk in his roomy office with four other people sitting across from him. On closer inspection, Felicity could see that the other people in the room were students.

“Welcome, Felicity,” Professor Kuttler called out jovially. “Thank you for coming.”

Well he certainly didn’t look like he was about to kick her out of his class or flunk her on the terribleness of her paper. But she was still nervous about what he really wanted. Closing the door behind her, she edged closer to the group in the office. “Um...Professor, was there a problem with my paper?”

He smiled at her. “Well you found a more efficient method of finding true zero than Isaac Newton, which isn’t so much a problem as it is a major ass kicking. Although Newton has been dead for more than 250 years, so it wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”

Felicity blinked twice in confusion. So did he suspect her of plagiarism after all?

“I’m...I’m sorry, Professor, I still don’t understand.”

“Please, call me Noah. And look, you’re not in any trouble. We’re actually inviting you to join us.”

He shot the other people in the room a significant look, and the girl sitting the closest to Felicity piped up.

“I’m Alena. It’s nice to meet you.”

The guy next to her continued the introduction. “Cayden.”

“Myron,” said the guy on his other side with a small nod.

Then the one on the far end of the line gave her a small wave and a smile. For some reason, the expression made Felicity blush.

“Cooper,” he said.

“Hi,” she said, a little uncertainly. “So...are you guys a math club or something?”

The four of them all smirked at one another, but that was when Professor Kuttler decided to speak up. “Let me ask you something, Felicity: What do you know about blackjack?”

She blinked at his question. Was he serious? She grew up in Las Vegas, for crying out loud. She spent all her afternoons doing her homework in whatever casino her mother was working at that month. The only proper friends she had as a child were the dealers who were kind enough to look after her on their breaks while her mother was trying to flirt enough money out of the high rollers so she could afford the fee to send Felicity to space camp for the summer.

“A bit,” she answered cautiously.

Professor Kuttler’s smile widened. “Show me.”

He gestured to the desk in front of him, and that was when Felicity realized that it was set up like a standard blackjack table with one deck sitting in front of him and one lone card facing down.

Hesitantly, Felicity stepped forward and Professor Kuttler dealt out hands to her and the other four people sitting in front of his desk. She glanced around as he dealt the first cards: she got a four, Alena got a two, Cayden a jack, Myron a seven and Cooper a five. Glancing at the deck, she guessed that he was using a standard six deck stack.

Then he went back around. Her second card was a queen, bringing her total to fourteen. Alena got a nine, Cayden an ace, Myron a three and Cooper a four.

Felicity bit her lip. She had fourteen, Alena had eleven, Cayden already got a blackjack, Myron had a ten and Cooper had nine. Professor Kuttler’s face-up card was a seven, which made it a high chance that he would have to hit. And it didn’t look like they were very deep in the deck so far.

“Now, Felicity,” Professor Kuttler began, in a voice very similar to the one he used in class, “are you going to hit?”

“Yes,” she answered. Obviously.

He didn’t lay down another card as she expected. Instead, he asked her another question. “Are you going to hit twice?”

She nodded.

“What about three times?”

“No.”

Professor Kuttler’s grin widened. “Why not?”

“Because then I’ll go over.”

“What makes you think so?”

For the first time, Felicity glanced around at the other four next to her. They were watching her with curious expressions, but the one on the end — Cooper — was staring at her like she was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

Her cheeks reddened again as she looked away, but she could still feel his gaze on her.

“It looks like you’re using the standard six decks,” she began. “The deck so far is still mostly full of low cards, and most of what you’ve dealt so far are low cards. We’ve only gotten two high cards so far, and I’m guessing that your face down card is also a low card. If I hit twice, I have a higher chance of getting two low cards than a high card, but if I hit three times, I have a higher chance of getting a high card that will set me over.”

There were more than a few quirked eyebrows in the expressions around her.

“It’s basic probability,” Felicity muttered, looking down at her scuffed shoes.

Professor Kuttler beamed at her, then turned his gaze to the others. “You see? I told you she was a natural.”

“How old are you?” Cayden asked curiously. “You don’t look very old.”

“I turned 21 last April.”

He blinked in surprise. “Seriously? I heard you were already taking grad school courses!”

“I graduated early,” she shrugged.

Professor Kuttler started drawing cards and laying them down. Her first card was a six. Her second card was an ace.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” he grinned.

Despite being right, Felicity was still very confused. “Professor — ”

“Noah.”

“...I still don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“Well, Felicity, in addition to being a professor here at MIT, I also happen to be a...I suppose you could call it a faculty supervisor for a team here on campus.”

The other four people smirked at his description.

“A...a blackjack team?”

“Yes. And a spot just opened up. We’d like for you to join.”

And that’s when it all suddenly made sense.

“Are you...are you talking about counting cards?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m talking about getting very, very rich.”

Yeah right. She grew up in Vegas. She knew the only people who got rich were the ones who were lucky or the ones who were smart.

“You count cards,” she said flatly. “All of you?”

“As a team, yes,” Cayden replied.

She was absolutely flabbergasted. All of these people were MIT students! How did they have the time to study and count cards? And where in Boston could they possibly go to gamble at blackjack?

“When?” she asked. “Where?”

“Vegas,” Myron answered promptly. “And we go on weekends...and Christian holidays.”

“Good thing you’re not a Christian, eh, Felicity?” Professor Kuttler winked.

Her eyes widened in shock. “How did you — ?”

“I like to take an interest in my students,” he answered before she could even finish her question. “Especially the brilliant ones.”

As she struggled to get over her surprise, she glanced once more around the table. All of these students were brilliant young people with bright futures ahead of them. Why would they want to risk them for something as stupid as being on a blackjack team?

“This is crazy,” she insisted. “Insane.”

“Come on, Felicity,” Cooper said, a tiny smile playing on the corners of his lips. “It’ll be fun.”

Fun? Flying out to Vegas on weekends to count cards and risk the chance of getting their asses kicked by pit bosses was their idea of fun?

“You know how dangerous what you’re doing is?” she demanded. “I grew up in Vegas, OK? I know practically every casino in that town, and I know what happens to people who get caught counting. You guys could get into serious trouble!”

“It’s not illegal,” Myron pointed out. “It’s just...frowned upon.”

“Listen,” Professor Kuttler cut in. “You’re not only gifted with a brilliant mind, but you’re also composed. You don’t give into your emotions. You think logically. Felicity — you were born for this. You’ll have more fun than you’ve ever had in your entire life. It’s perfect.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but you’ve got the wrong girl for this. I’m sorry.”

Professor Kuttler’s happy expression dissolved into one of complete disappointment, but there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. With that, she turned on her scuffed heel and walked toward the door.

But before she could walk out, a hand reached out for her shoulder.

“Felicity,” Professor Kuttler began. “I hope this little conversation we just had will remain private.”

There was an edge of danger in his tone that she had never heard before and it sent shivers down her spine.

“Absolutely, Professor Kuttler,” she mumbled.

This time, he didn’t correct her.

“Good. You’re one of my favorite students. I’d hate to lose you. If you know what I mean.”

And with that, he closed the door to his office.

Felicity stood on the other side for a long while, running her teeth across her bottom lip. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had just made a huge mistake, turning down an invitation to join this club from one of the most influential professors on campus.

And plus, there was that possibility of earning that money. Enough money to pay off all her student loan debts the minute she graduated.

But then she remembered all the graphic stories the dealers liked to tell of what happened when they caught people counting at their tables and she shuddered at the thought of any one of those stories actually happening to her.

No thank you, she thought firmly to herself as she walked away from the closed door. She liked her kneecaps where they were, thank you very much.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in updates. The (tentative) plan is to update every Tuesday.

[duaneodavila]

The Future Of Legal Recruiting Takes Less Than A Half-Hour?

As I have both written and podcasted about before, Vanderbilt has an extensive professional development series designed to help all of our students — with a particular emphasis on 1Ls — build their non-academic legal skills while also learning more about the profession as a whole.  While the programming is extremely valuable for students, for me, the fifth iteration of how to excel as a summer associate is not something I feel compelled to attend, having both heard all of the advice before and having previously lived that glorious summer associate life with subsequent post-graduation employment offers — though it is always great to see wonderful Vanderbilt alumni who come back to campus for these presentations.  Instead, that lunch hour can be spent catching up on the important issues of the day, such as #GetReeseToVanderbilt.

But while certain important topics are covered each and every year, sometimes a new presentation will crop up and catch my attention.  This happened last month with a professional development event entitled “A Brand New Way of Interviewing: What You Need to Know.”  Sponsored by O’Melveny, the presentation featured John-Paul Motley, Managing Partner of the firm’s Los Angeles office (Vanderbilt Law Class of 1999), and Darin Snyder, Regional Head of Litigation for Northern California, and perhaps more importantly for the day, the firm’s Diversity and Inclusion Partner.  While Motley served as the Vanderbilt hook, Snyder was the star of the show, walking the students through OMM’s new method of finding law school talent.

Snyder began by discussing the two biggest flaws in the current system of legal recruiting — there are far more than two, but this was a good place to start.  First, despite the massive financial resources of O’Melveny (gross revenue in 2018 surpassed $800 million), due to the finite nature of the recruiting calendar and the metaphysical fact that their attorneys cannot be on multiple campuses at once, the firm is only able to meet with a tiny percentage of the 111,000+ law students enrolled on campuses across the country.  Given these constraints, like most elite firms, OMM tends to only recruit (at least on campus) at the elite law schools.  Setting aside the issue of how this limited OCI reach can perpetuate and entrench privilege, even at the schools O’Melveny visits, they are only afforded an opportunity to meet with a limited number of students.  For example, Vanderbilt’s Class of 2021 is around 180 students.  A full OCI interview schedule consists of 18 interview slots.  That means, at best, OMM is getting a chance to meet with 10 percent of the class.  And Vanderbilt is a small school.  When looking at the size of the classes at law schools such as Harvard, NYU, or Georgetown, unless a firm is bringing a group of associates that would rival a World War II landing party in size, said firm is probably only reaching a minute portion of the class.  So how can employers fix this issue?  Snyder told the assembled Vanderbilt students that he thinks he has a way for the firm to thoroughly evaluate any law student, at any law school, who might be interested in working for O’Melveny.

Snyder introduced us to Pymetrics.  Designed by neuroscientists, Pymetrics bills itself as a bias-free way for employers to evaluate candidates through a series of short computer games.  As applicants play these games, a profile of key employment traits is generated.  An algorithm then compares the candidate’s profile to a model for that particular employer and determines whether that individual could excel at the firm.  It sounded simultaneously simple and revolutionary.  Pymetrics is currently being used in Corporate America by entities such as Unilever, LinkedIn, and Mercer, but Snyder believes O’Melveny is the first law firm to employ this recruiting approach.

Not surprisingly, the biggest question on attendees’ minds was also the one that Snyder could not/would not answer, what traits are OMM looking for, i.e., what’s the firm’s model.  However, he was happy to describe how the model came about.  Since initially the Pymetrics approach is only being used for entry-level hiring initially — if successful, Snyder has grand plans of employing it for hiring decisions across the spectrum, including lateral associates and partners — the firm identified a number of junior associates who are currently excelling at the firm and had them play the games.  The traits identified in those associates formed the foundation of the model.

While one plays Pymetrics games on a computer, these are not standard video games wherein the object is to “win.”  There are no victories in these games, but rather they serve to capture personality traits.  Thus, the results generated by the games should be the same after one play as it would be after 50.  This eliminates any disadvantage for those students who attend law schools which operate on delayed schedule from the rest of their peer institutions.  It also makes it highly unlikely that a Pymetrics coaching/tutoring industry will develop and introduce socioeconomic bias that this process is designed to eliminate.

As I was curious to see what students, including those at Vanderbilt, would have to go through if they wanted a summer associate position with O’Melveny, Snyder was kind enough to provide me access to play the games.  When I first logged on, I was expecting to meet Joshua from Wargames.

Instead, a friendly video popped up and I was told there would be 15 games that could take upwards of 20 minutes to complete.  The most important factor is that I was to make sure I would not be distracted while playing the games.  As a father of two kids under the age of four and three pets, including a mewling cat who is mystified as to why 2:45 a.m. is not the ideal time to play, even if I am able to carve out 20 minutes without actual distractions, there is still the seemingly constant distraction of abject exhaustion.  Plus, living in a country run by Donald Trump is its own unceasing distraction.  But putting those concerns aside, I dove into games with such innocuous titles as “Balloon” and “Easy or Hard.”  Alas, there was no Global Thermonuclear War.

While the whole point of these games is that takers cannot “learn” how to play them, I will skip too much detail on the actual gameplay involved, except to say that it turns out I am very good at hitting the spacebar on my computer in rapid succession.  Once I finished, Pymetrics generated a long “trait report” containing my “unique cognitive and emotional profile.”  Turns out I am trusting, fair-minded, and great at screening out distractions, though not as altruistic as I thought.  As a high school policy debater, I was subjected to far more Ayn Rand than is probably healthy at that, or really any, age, so I will place the blame there.  If I were applying to O’Melveny, the Pymetrics algorithm would inform the firm if I was a good match with their model.

I can imagine that the natural instinct of anyone in the legal employment realm might well be skepticism to a 20-minute computer test determining Biglaw employment.  But the standard OCI screener interview is the exact same length and it is there that the applicant pool is most whittled down.  An employer is probably going to get more valuable information from the Pymetrics trait report than what tree a student said they would be if they had to be a tree, or what their favorite 1L class had been.  Some logistics questions abound.  While the value of Pymetrics is clearly obvious for those schools/students OMM would not otherwise get to interview, it is still not perfectly clear how these tests will integrate with the existing interviewing structure.  Are students who are interviewing with the firm at OCI take these tests before their screener interview?  After?  Before a potential callback?

Snyder told the Vanderbilt assemblage that if Pymetrics proves successful — an evaluation that will take years, if not decades — he can see it surpassing academic performance in the firm’s evaluative process.  Though in subsequent conversation, he made it clear that Pymetrics will be part of the OMM evaluative process and will not represent the entirety of how candidates are evaluated.  If the utilization of Pymetrics results in strong first-year associate classes, the importance of Pymetrics in the evaluative process could well continue to grow, but they do not anticipate going to the extent of some corporations which exclusively use Pymetrics to find new talent.  That makes sense as I am a bit dubious that an Am Law 50 firm would pass on a Sears Prize winner from Harvard merely because a computerized test revealed some personality traits that were not shared by standout attorneys at the firm.  But I applaud the effort to break out of the old interview modes and embrace a technological approach that is ideally free of bias.  Not to mention, it is kind of fun to play.

(Flip to the next page to see Nicholas Alexiou’s Pymetrics trait profile.)

Nicholas Alexiou is the Director of LL.M. and Alumni Advising as well as the Associate Director of Career Services at Vanderbilt University Law School. He will, hopefully, respond to your emails at abovethelawcso@gmail.com.

The Future Of Legal Recruiting Takes Less Than A Half-Hour? republished via Above the Law