#Larry sign language

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

Part 2

"I mean, now we’re back into this territory again...

Poor mic:

*crowd makes noises* Interviewer: “We have some frisky people!” Harry: “I like New York!” Louis: :> face Harry says something to him, kinda covers his mouth, and thu-duhmm there's the thumb on knee. Is this still sign language masterpost appropriate? Who knows. (video [from 2012])

Check the interview if you’d like, but there’s little to no context to grasp onto as they’re all involved in some kind of inside joke, but let’s just appreciate how Liam and Niall both notice the leggy thumby thingy that they’re doing again after: 

Louis likes making [the] thumbs up, now I gotta wonder if it’s a coincidence that keeps happening when talking about certain subjects.

It’s celebrity crushes time again. He just said that Susan Boyle is “my girl, so stay away”, oof, then Niall starts talking about Demi, Louis does the thumbs:

then it’s Harry and Louis just picking another actress again, and then, we’re robbed of this out-of-view moment:

Someone’s compilation [video] of the “sweetheart” sign as a placeholder until I take the time to find more:

And the only time they used it properly:

which here, seems to be used to tease Zayn’s arm around Liam? Maybe?

Little shits.

But other times:

it’s cute.

And what about a 2015 thumbs up? Yeah, let’s get into some 2015 thumbs up!

If we weren’t already in it, now we’re getting into some real reading into things waters. It’s probably nothing. If it is the sign, it’s so subtle we can’t say for sure, but wouldn’t that have been exactly the point? So let’s entertain the thought for a second:

Here during Steal My Girl (video), there’s quite some signing (to change the mic/sound) and thumb upping (like Louis’ hand on the mic in the gif as well, [...] if you wanted to be subtle about it, that's not how you would do it), but the part where he walks back a bit is the undeniable one. It’s just before Liam sings “kisses that cream” (Excuse me Liam, isn’t it supposed to be “kisses like cream”? Why can I not find a single video of this band that doesn’t include some possible innuendo?). But again, you’d have to revisit more footage to see if there’s a pattern or if it’s a “idk what to do with my hands” performance thing.

Meanwhile Niall and Liam are also “signing things”. Are they playing air baseball? Thought I’d include that, too.

Let’s finish off with some 2012 ones:

--

[adding this video, because it's a sweet mini compilation made in 2022:

Louis and Harry making up their own words in their own sign language is so them (●´ω｀●)]

It’s a sign language of the times

Or: absolute king shit.

EDIT JULY 9TH 2021: FRESHLY EDITED BECAUSE SOMEONE JUST DID A SIGN LANGUAGE VIDEO AND I’M NOT OK

This post serves as a collection of Louis, Harry, or both using sign language. Unfortunately I don’t know sign language myself, and I don’t know if they (attempted to) use ASL or BSL, but I’ll do my best. Reading comments of those who do it’s clear that some of these signs are not recognized, so either they modified/made up a version only they would understand or we’re just reading into things as we do. If you know sign language and happen to find this post please don’t hesitate to correct me! 

Let’s start off megastrong and show that both of them actually know sign language these days.

Here Louis says “let’s do a few photos” so logically that’s probably what he signs as well.

~I have no idea what Harry says here~

Keep reading

[evilovesyou]

“Why is nobody talking about this?” — my girlfriend

(x)

[jaywriteshome]

Happy last 28th of the year to these sweethearts and those who celebrate 💚💙

[all-lars-bars]

I have never seen anyone talk about how in Larry's trial, when Phoenix gives him the signal to either lie or tell the truth, Larry understands the gestures Phoenix is doing.

I feel like we should talk about this more. They really are best friends.

[awayfromhomerry]

some things never change

[bruhhxiao]

Does it hurt?

(Sfw)

Sal Fisher x gn!reader

! Warnings: older(adult) Sal fisher, self doubt, no Y/N used, English is not my first language!

Summary: You and Sal have been into each other for a while now but non of you two confessed your feelings. You two are laying on his bed after the party that Larry hosted in their now shared apartment.

(I toke this picture on Pinterest but I’m pretty sure it’s from> makichoali on Tumblr)

✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮🎸₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮🎸₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆

You were laying on his bed after the party since no one seemed to pick up the phone and come get you Larry offered to stay over, but the most surprising thing is that Sal offered to shared the bed.

You knew some of his past, Larry has told you, it didn’t came by itself you asked him about Sal after the rumors you heard in school and you grew older without the need to hear it from him, you knew it hurt.

You sat on the edge of the bed when the door was suddenly opened by Sal, he was shirtless for a few seconds before he grabbed a clean t-shirt from his closet and wore it without paying attention to you, he passed some clothes to you as well.

“The bathroom is free” he said simply, you toke the clothes thanking him and head to the bathroom after.

When you returned there was no sign of him, just a pillow missing from the bed, you sat on the soft mattress just to find out he was laying on the floor on the left side of the bed. You leaned over to the end of the left side of the bed.

“Sal what are you doing?”

“You can take the bed, the couch it’s pretty messed up and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said without even turning around.

“I’m not uncomfortable, please come lay on the bed. I’ll turn around if it bothers you”

“I’m not bothered by you”

He sits moving the blanket a little and he crosses his legs while his feet play under the fabric,

“When I was younger… they told you already, didn’t they?”

“Yes, yes Larry told me don’t get mad at him, i’m the one who asked”

He stood up and he brought his hands behind his head, you only realized when you heard the sound of the mask hooks opening. His face was covered by his long electric blue hair as he looked down, he wasn’t too skinny, he had some muscle on the biceps, probably from playing the electric guitar.

He managed to sit down without showing his face, he took some cream to heal the scars from the nightstand next to the bed, he didn't need it since the accident was quite a while ago, maybe he used it to hydrate his skin and make it less rough? or perhaps he hoped that by applying it over time they would become less noticeable.

The smell of medicine coming from the cream woke you up from your thoughts. He put the cream down where he got it from. You could see through his hair the area of ​​his cheek with some loose cream on it.

You caressed the ruined skin with your right hand, you felt him jolt under your touch, you did also. “Does it hurt?”

When you asked if your touch hurt him he denied but you didn’t expect him to turn around, he was incredibly handsome, his blue eye looked like the clear sky, the scar from his right eye to the chin looked like a lightning, the right side of the mouth torn wasn’t scary at all…

“You’re disgusted? You’re scared?”

He says as he notices you freezing as you examined his face, he turns his head looking down while trying to avoid your hand touching his face.

“I like you.” You said firmly but you could feel the hot tears making their way in your eyes.

He was the one froze after your confession. You saw how his shoulders tensed up and his fists clenching on his pajama pants. He shove his head.

“Do you? Or you just pity me?”

“I don’t, I truly like you” you said sounding like you were about to soffocate by the felling of your heart in your throat.

“You shouldn’t, what are you going to do when they start talking of you liking a monster like me? I’ve done a lot of bad things, your reputation will be ruined”

“You’re not a monster to me..”

You said cupping his right cheek making him turn back to you, you leaned closer to the point he would feel the warm sensation of your lips on his cheek. He dried your tears with his thumb, your hand travelled to his cheek to the nape of his neck pulling him into your embrace. You sat on your knees while your left hand strokes his hair.

“You feel just like her, when she hugged me..”

��But I don’t want to see you as my mother. I want to live it with you” he continued.

“I like you a lot. You never gave me a second look when we first met, you never tried to make up assumptions about my past, you never saw me like a monster. They way you call me or they way you wave at me after our hang out with the others.” He wrapped his arms around you, his face snuggling in your neck.

You push him slightly away.

“Sal it’s 3 a.m we should rest.”

You lay down so he does, next to you on his pillow he grabbed from the floor. You two were facing each other, he dried you tears once again. He rested his left hand on your waist as you caressed left side of his face.

“You know you’re very handsome..”

“to you..”

“to me. Maybe for someone else too but I’m lucky to tell you tonight”

“I heard from Ashely you asked Larry to give you some guitar lessons..”

“true”

“Can I teach you?” He moves closer to you, your foreheads almost touching.

“I would love that…”

Your imagination of Sal teaching you how to play a guitar was interrupted by Sal himself, his lips pressed against yours. His left hand leaves your waist and rests against your neck as he pulls you closer, the kiss was slow but passionate, his touch was firm but delicate. He could hear your heart beat so you did with his.

He pushed you so close to the point he got on top, his hands seeking yours. intertwine his fingers with yours. He broke the kiss a few seconds later. He presses his forehead against yours, you could feel his breath shaking.

“I don’t want to hurt you..”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sal”

He kisses the beige of your nose and he lays next to you, you turn on your left side so you could face him, your leg under his and his leg under yours. His arms wrap around you and you can feel is long fingers tightening the fabric of the t-shirt he gave you like he didn’t want you to go. His breath calming down slowly, you press your forehead against his like it’s a safe signal between you two.

The next morning you wake up past 10 am. You felt the fresh air against your stomach, since the t-shirt was slightly showing a bit of skin, and your legs as well; next time ask Sal for longer pants. Thinking of Sal you open your eyes only to be blinded by the light from the window he opened to change the airflow, you spot Sal sitting with his back against the headboard of the bed while he was playing with his gear boy. You notice he wasn’t wearing his prosthesis.

You push yourself up with your arm as your rubber your eyes with the right hand.

“morning” he says

His always always so calm, the same tone but heartwarming the same time. He places the gear boy on the night stand and balances himself on his elbow just like you.

“Are you down for the first guitar lesson? But I think breakfast first sounds good for you.”

You smile at him and he kisses your forehead after. He gets up and grabs a hoodie for you.

“To be honest, you’ll hate my cooking skills”

✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮🎸₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮🎸₊˚⊹♡✩°｡⋆

Heloo since it’s October and my favorite streamer is currently playing Sally face, I asked myself “why don’t I write for my childhood crush?” Yes y’all he is still today, well not gonna lie I have a weakness for creepy characters :3.

Hope you enjoyed and remember English is not my first language so don’t make me cry okay 😜. Have a good day/night. And my requests are open but it might take a while since I write for them because I got a chaotic busy life, sending a lot of love byeeee<3

[hazzabeeforlou]

i had a question and i hope that it doesn’t sound rude. do you feel ashamed being in the fandom and being a shipper at 32? i ask because i am 27, and have been in the fandom since 2012, off and on. i haven’t rly been in it actively for the last two years or so, but when i want to come back, i feel embarrassed. i also don’t think i could handle the stress of it tbh! lol. i hope you are well <3

I was going to answer this yesterday but then remembered I had a 7 hour drive today and didn’t want to stay up later than I already was. Because I’m an adult, with (now one) previous multiple jobs, a pet, rent, vehicle, three post high school diplomas, and student loans, and there are many things in my life I get ashamed of, like when I answer “you too” when a cashier tells me thanks for shopping or when I let a whole bag of celery go bad in my fridge without ever cleaning or eating it. Shame? At my tax dollars funding death weapons and family members voting for strong men? Sure. Latent homophobic internalized shame from my upbringing? Yeah, sometimes.

But life is too fucking short to be embarrassed or hold shame about a FANDOM. Listen, I “ship” Johnlock, or Merthur, but Larry wasn’t a ship for me it was a discovery of queer joy. Like I’m so sorry but baby Larry was real. 100%, actually, seriously legit, like how else do you fucking explain any or all of that. We watched two boys fall in love with each other and okay we don’t know the devil or the details but we have how many albums and interviews, jokes made by media personalities etc, plus the fact that now, this many years later, their solo stuff is still haunted by a nauseating back and forth, these odd lyrical choices that are echoed in the other?

Yeah it’s not a ship. It’s a thing that happened, that we witnessed, and by virtue of it happening and us witnessing it something about gay love became dreamable, reachable, attainable, soft and puppy and exciting and wild. Their secret sign language and mimed blow jobs and jealous looks and touches when they thought there were no cameras, all those things made queerness not just something you saw on Glee. Not just something your parents talked about while wrinkling their nose up about ‘those people.’ It’s a generational thing, the world has moved on, we don’t NEED Larry anymore. And that’s okay. But we don’t need it because it happened. Not to be a brat but you exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you.

And yeah, we wrote fics about highly characterized and publicized versions of Larry, often inserting our own traumas or fantasies, creating a kind of gay mythos around this witnessed event from the periphery, from the lens of the consumer, the only lens we have. But I’m not ashamed of that. You think stories are only ever written about people that don’t exist? At some point you have to acknowledge that in our world, celebrities are the deities of our popular imagination. I could write a thesis, but before I get into the weeds, suffice to say Harry and Louis have created a world of what can be, unburdened by what has been.

Yk? Anyways. Hope this made you feel better. And hope you come back to visit from time to time. I’ll be here.

[seat-safety-switch]

Once in awhile, you can get one over on The Man. Finally, after all these years of toiling under his rule, doing his dirty work, begging for his praise, he has well and truly fucked up. And, it turns out, your entire life has been building up to the moment that you can milk him for all he's worth.

Have you ever seen a Dodge Caliber? They're getting sort of uncommon now, but when they were new, they were pretty hateful cars. Cheap, buzzy, surprisingly uneconomical, steering that felt like telling a funeral home operator how to sign a birthday card over the phone by long distance. And they fell apart all the time. Most cars get repaired, but these things got gleefully shovelled into the junkyard at the first chance the owners got.

Not all of them, though. This is a story about one very special Dodge Caliber. You see, my aunt needed a car. And my aunt is very nervous about owning a car. The skills of shitbox repair never made it into her genes, you see, possibly because she is not related to me by blood. So, in order to get that car, she went to the Dodge dealership, and she asked them: can you do a lifetime warranty, unlimited mileage, no questions asked, cover everything? And they said: for you, ma'am, we absolutely can charge you an obscene, eye-watering amount of money.

Once I found out about this, I was mad. And then I figured it out. You see, what my aunt did have was being insanely cheap. That's why she was a part of my degenerate family. She still is, even though my Uncle Larry exploded that one night at Arecibo. Unlimited mileage. There has never been a sweeter phrase uttered in the English language.

Now, whenever anyone we know needs to go for a long trip, we tell them: take the Caliber. Rack those miles up. Punish those stupid motherfuckers for writing such a terrible, open-ended contract. My aunt runs a taxi service consisting entirely of this vehicle, a fleet of drivers constantly rotating in and out, the thing rolling virtually 24/7. I love driving this car, because every single mile that ticks up on the odometer is more salty tears from the low-wattage pig who thought he was a big-time wheeler and dealer down at Old Time Country Dodge.

To their credit, they figured out the enormous error that they had made fairly quickly. When Aunt Hilda rolled in the thing, smoking and wheezing, for its sixth transmission replacement at eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kilometers, they offered to buy it from her and give her a brand new luxury SUV, just for being such a great customer. She laughed, and told them to get started overhauling the Caliber, and don't forget to take a look at the squeaking sound it started making in the back.

When things got real bad during the recession, they tried to go bankrupt, thinking that might get them out from having to maintain this economy car until the sun burns out. Ha! Death won't save you, my friend. My attorney Max picked that one up pro bono, despite hating warranty law, just for the pleasure of watching their attorney read the purchase contract. Her eyes got so big that they stuck that way. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life on her eyelids so she could blink again.

If you see me in the Caliber, make sure to honk. I probably won't stop to say hi, because we gotta keep this odometer rollin'. Rest assured, however, that I will honk back, maybe ten or fifteen times. Really get my money's worth out of that horn.

[stereorebel]

sal and larry TOTALLY learnt sign language so they could communicate in class because sal can't mouth words

[vintagerpg]

This is XS2: Thunderdelve Mountain (1985). There is no XS1, just XSOLO. TSR was dumb sometimes (lots of times). The cover painting is signed Jack Fred, which was the in-house equivalent of a director taking an Alan Smithee credit because they disavowed the end product. Inside it is credited to Larry Elmore. Which, I guess I can see why he signed it Jack Fred. Interiors are by Mario Macari, who I know nothing about. The work seems very in line with the sort of art you’d get in an illustrated young reader’s book of the period, to the point that I wonder if XS2 was initially conceived as a Super Endless Quest.

Anyway, this isn’t constructed anything like XSOLO. Rather, you have a series of quests that proceed in a linear fashion. There’s a lot of map-making. There’s a rune language to translate. Oh, you play a dwarf, that’s pretty novel. And there is a random treasure mechanic which is neat.

It’s perfectly fine. And sometimes that’s just what you need. At least I don’t need a magic marker or a sheet of red cellophane to play the damn thing.

[evilovesyou]

What a time to be a larrie 😌

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Ludwig

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The composer of chaos and everyone's favorite general, Ludwig! What a guy.

Naturally left-handed, but trained himself to be ambidextrous

He's disturbingly good at discerning people's motives, personalities, and past. He claims it's simple logic, but no one really knows how he does it.

Whenever Bowser’s in a pissy mood or feels agitated, Ludwig sometimes gets called in to play something soft and relaxing to calm him down.

There's rumors floating around the army that he was originally a Paratroop General who sold his wings in exchange for arcane powers in a magical bargain with Kamek. He's yet to confirm or deny this. (It’s not true, but he likes to keep his recruits on their toes).

Partially deaf in his left ear, and uses a hearing aid to assist him. Fluent in sign language, as well.

Has a baritone voice, very rich and darkly colored. He can hit high notes with relative ease, but can't hold them as long as he can with his lower notes.

His singing is enchanted. It's something he was born with, and he's gotten very good at controlling it. He does forget sometimes, and before he knows it, his humming down the street has attracted a plethora of birds.

Also fairly decent at mimicking bird calls. Iggy is dying to learn his secret.

Likes reading mystery novels and detective stories, but spaces them out so he doesn’t read the chapters all at once. He also uses Morton as a soundboard for theories in each chapter, and relishes the feeling of being smart if he solves it before the end.

One of the most magically powerful out of his siblings. He’s fairly decent at a little bit of everything, but his siblings are stronger with their specialization. His best field is in Evocation.

While piano is his preferred instrument, he plays several: violin, cello, pump organ, pipe organ, guitar, flute, clarinet, harp, harpsichord, and ocarina.

He’s an ugly crier and hates it, which is why he tries not to do it often.

Fond of gardenias and wisteria flowers.

One of his favorite down-time, out-and-about activities is going antiquing. He’s found a nice gramophone, a few records, and some furniture pieces for his room by doing so.

Likes having a physical, paper to-do list. It makes him feel productive and organized as he checks things off.

He and Wendy have ‘Bitch Lunch' together, where they basically talk shit about their coworkers, spill tea about their friends, and gossip the whole time.

You can actually tell how long he's been composing by how dark his hands are with ink smudges. You can also tell how bad of a mood he’s in.

Loves the smell of coffee and vanilla, but leans more towards being a tea person. He's got an excellent palate for both, however.

Larry is persistently trying to introduce him to the keytar. Ludwig is persistently refusing to go near it.

Very much a morning person. He wakes up earlier than most of his siblings and likes having his hot drink and reading alone to enjoy the quiet hours before the rest of his family wakes up.

The ultimate master of time management. He gets kinda tetchy when others don’t respect deadlines or appointments dates, and heaven help you if you intrude on his scheduled self-care hours.

He snorts when he laughs really hard, and is terribly embarrassed by it, so he tries to reign it in when he can. Anyone who can do it who isn't a sibling is a special person, indeed.

He likes tall places, especially the views. Great for a bit of peace from his siblings and inspiration for his music.

When his siblings are annoying him, he likes bombarding them with music puns. He is well aware he's being an ass and does not care.

Leaned more towards science as a kid, but discovered the piano when he was twelve, and creating music felt right in a way that making little inventions never did. He never looked back, and he’s a lot happier for it, too.

Keeps a little pocket notebook on him for writing things down, and he's pretty dutiful about marking things in. It's a common gift his sibling get him on the holidays.

He doesn't have as much of a sweet tooth, but toffee — especially with almonds or coffee in it — is his weakness. His siblings have learned he can be bribed to look the other way if they have enough.

Also a fan of very dark chocolate, and his favorite pastry is a freshly-warm coffee cake.

He's pretty alright at art, especially with acrylic paint and sketchier mediums like charcoal and conté, he just doesn't like how dirty his hands get afterwards. He's got a side business doing murals.

Favorite fruits are cherries and plums, but he also won’t turn down anything with blackberry in it.

Likes watching regency romance dramas in his alone time, but loves dragging the shit out of reality TV shows with Wendy.

He also loves watching those foreign films with subtitles, very artful with a lot of emotion in them, especially if he's feeling spiteful and his little siblings are annoying, because "No, Luds, I don't want to read a film after two hours of paperwork!"

Has a small collection of model ships in bottles. He keeps them on a high, high shelf in his room, given his work environment. Ship kits are another common gift to him.

Looks at memes like an old man; both hands, squinting eyes, mouth slightly open. The others think this is hilarious.

[thlayli-ra]

Stray (part 4)

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre, Larry, Samoa Joe

Pairing - CM Punk/Drew McIntyre, CM Punk/Samoa Joe (past)

AU - Stray AU

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Strong language, mentions of human trafficking, imprisonment and prostitution

Words - ~3,000 words (this is a longer one, yay!)

Summary - Punk asks a 'friend' for help

The door rang at six the next morning and Punk answered it immediately, already fully dressed.

'What did you do now?' the large set man on the doorstep grumbled.

'What makes you think I did anything?' Punk asked with his hand on his chest, taking offence to the accusation.

'When you call me at 5am telling me to bring spare clothes and my tool kit, I take that as a strong sign that you've done something,' Joe replied gruffly, stepping in past Punk and up the front steps. 'So just get it over with and tell me what the hell hap-'

He stopped mid-word when he reached the top of the stairs and found the stranger sitting innocently on Punk's sofa, naked except for a poorly fitting pair of boxer briefs and a dog collar around his neck. The newcomer gaped at the sight, then quickly dumped everything onto the floor.

'Excuse me,' Joe politely said to the stranger then roughly dragged Punk to the back steps at the far end of the living area.

'Ah, you grabbed me by the fucking neck,' Punk whined as Joe slammed the door behind them to give them some privacy.

'What the hell is that?' he demanded to know.

'I believe it's what they call an adult human male,' Punk shot back sarcastically.

'Don't get smart with me, Phillip Jack!'

'Oh, we're doing the Phillip Jack thing already, are we?'

'Just tell me who the fuck he is?'

Punk shrugged his shoulders. 'Dunno.'

'Well, what's his name?'

'Dunno.'

'Then where'd he come from?'

'I found him round the back of Mrs Goldstein's house. Good thing too, if she'd found him first she'd probably have had her third stroke and-'

'Wait! Wait! WAIT!' Joe scrubbed his eyes with his fingertips. 'What do you mean you found him?'

'Last night during the storm,' Punk retorted as if that made complete sense. 'Kid was all alone and banged up so I took him back here and cleaned him up.' Joe was trying to process just what the hell was happening but Punk didn't seem to notice. 'Hey, you know sign language, right?'

'I know exactly four languages, one of which is sign language, yes,' Joe replied, not following any of this in the slightest.

'Great! Come with me!' Gripping Joe by his broad shoulders, Punk shuffled him back into the living area and over to the lounge where the stranger was sitting calmly, stroking Larry who was sleeping next to him on the couch. 'Hey, so, this here is Joe, he's sorta, kinda, well, he's my-

'Friend,' Joe cut in abruptly.

'Yeah...' Punk muttered bitterly. 'Friend.'

The stranger stared blankly at them both.

'Well?' Punk looked expectantly at Joe. 'Go on.'

Heaving a huff of frustration, Joe signed 'hi, my name is Joe. What's your name?' when Punk cuffed him on the arm.

'He can hear you alright, I just need you to translate what he's saying.'

By this time, seeing someone else using hand motions had excited the stranger and he began throwing gestures right back at the large-set man who blinked with a furrowed brow. 'That's... not ASL,' he said, at last. 'Wait, where's your globe?'

'Pfft, I don't have a fucking globe,' Punk snorted.

'Oh really? Not even that one I bought you three Christmases ago?'

Punk quickly backtracked. 'Ohhh, that globe! Yeah I still got that globe.' He rushed over to a closet at the far end of the room and took a long time digging around before he finally produced it, still in its box and sealed.

'You keep it in the back of your closet?' Joe asked coldly, accepting the box from Punk.

'Just for safe-keeping, while I'm getting my office repainted.'

'Riiiiiiight.' Ripping the box open, Joe fetched out the plastic globe and placed it on the coffee table in front of the stranger. 'Can you show us where you're from?'

On instinct, Joe had turned the globe so that North America was facing the stranger but once he placed his large fingers on the sphere, he began turning it, passing over the Atlantic Ocean until he settled it at Europe. A wobbly smile broke his lips when he pressed his fingertip to a spot and both Punk and Joe leaned in for a closer look.

'You're from England?' Punk brows shot up.

The stranger gave a vicious snarl.

'From Scotland,' Joe corrected. The cat paw bobbed wildly. 'Hold on a minute...' Joe fished out his phone and began tapping away on the screen while Punk stared down at the tiny nation pressed beneath the stranger's large digit.

'We've been to Scotland before, haven't we?'

'Yeah, few times. Back when we were starting out, we had some bouts in Glasgow.'

'That's right! You from Glasgow?' The stranger shook his fist. He then began pointing his fingers upwards. 'You're from... Up? Uptown? O-over...? Over-town?'

'Skye?' Joe put in his guess but everything received a shake of the head. The stranger then splayed his fingers, hovering them around him. 'Air?' Cat paw! Cat paw! 'Oh, Ayr! You're from Ayr?'

'How do you know all this shit?' Punk asked, his nose scrunched.

'Unlike you, I like to try and learn about the places we visit.' Joe returned to his phone, ignoring the eye roll from the tattooed man. 'Ah, now it makes sense. He's using British Sign Language.'

'Is it that different?'

Joe sighed with exasperation. 'Yeah, it is.' He turned his attention back to the stranger. 'I've pulled up the BSL alphabet. Can you spell your name out for me? Slowly?'

'You could just have gotten him to write it out,' Punk pointed out with a scoff.

'He's been with you since yesterday and you didn't think to do that.' Punk snapped his mouth shut. 'Go on.' The stranger began moving his hands. First he pointed his left index finger up and placed his right index and thumb against it, opened up like a semi-circle, clearly making the shape of a familiar letter. 'D,' Joe confirmed. Then he crooked his left index finger. 'R'. Next he placed his right index finger on the tip of his left index finger. 'E.' And finally he knitted the tops of his fingers together, palms facing. 'W,' Joe said and put the all the letters together. 'Drew? Your name is Drew?'

The dark head and cat paw bobbed excitedly. Blue eyes pricked with tears from finally hearing his own name being spoken back to him. He wasn't the only one who found himself emotionally affected by the reveal. In the corner, Punk had gone deathly quiet, his lips hanging open slightly as his mind raced.

Drew... his name is Drew...

'So, how did you get over here, Drew?' Joe asked. The Scotsman replied by swooping his fist through the air, his thump and pinkie extended. 'You flew here?' Cat paw, but then the fingers grasped the collar at his neck.

'They flew you here,' Punk answered, understanding the hidden meaning. 'They guys who held you prisoner?'

Cat paw, followed by more finger spelling. Joe read them out as they were motioned 'L. I. E. Lie, they lied to you?' Cat paw, followed by a sawing and hammer motion. 'They said it was for work?' Cat paw, then another grasp at his collar. 'But they imprisoned you instead.'

'They forced him to fight,' Punk cut in, already knowing this part of Drew's horrific recent past. 'Probably around the illegal circuits, remember them? We looked into a few before we realised how fucking dangerous they were?'

But Joe was rubbing his fingers back and forth over his lips, deep in thought. 'Drew...' the blue eyes stared back at him. 'They made you do more than fight, right?' The Scot hesitated, glancing cautiously at Punk. 'That collar around your neck. Did they make you do anything... sexual?'

Punk hitched a breath, feeling his skin turn as cold as ice. The sensation overwhelmed him when he watched Drew's beautiful eyes darken and his head sink in shame. Punk couldn't contain the snarl in his throat as he scrubbed his palm over his face. His fists were shaking and he needed an outlet for it. Now!

He slammed his fist back against the wall. Hard. Feeling the skin break as it hit unrelenting brick. Joe looked up at him, his brows lowered. Go on, say it! Like a 'cornered feral cat'. Just fucking say it!

But it was Drew who piped up, flattening his left palm and swiping his right pointed finger beneath it. Joe's attention moved back to the large hands, trying to decipher them. Drew helped him by reaching down to shake the shattered chain at his feet. It was the first time the larger man had seen it and his face gave away the shock. 'But you escaped,' he explained, bringing Punk's focus back to the room.

Drew smiled broadly, then placed his thumb against his chest, swooping it around in a figure of eight. It took Joe a while to work out the sign but when he did, a grin broke out on his usually sullen face. 'Yes, yes I see,' he replied warmly and mimicked the same gesture on his chest.

Punk watched them both with bewilderment, wondering what joke he was missing out on, when Joe beamed up at him. 'You get it, right Punker?' he asked, doing the motion again. Punk shook his head. 'That means you!'

'Me?' Punk blinked, and looked over to Drew for confirmation. The blue eyes twinkled back at him, full lips spread wide revealing two deep dimples in his bearded cheeks. He did the motion again, swirling his thumb over his chest and Punk finally understood. He was following the path of the waves and serpent on his chest tattoo, just like he had last night in the wet room.

All of a sudden, Punk lost the ability to draw in breath. Overcome with emotion, he bit down hard on his cheek to stifle any sobs. 'Y-yeah,' he stuttered, shakily bobbing his head. 'Then I found you.'

With several mysteries solved, Joe moved on to the tasks Punk had sent him for. First on the checklist was removing the metal cuff and chain from around Drew's ankle. While Joe opened his tool box, Punk went into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for them all. Larry lay flat on the couch, glaring at Joe as he placed a rod into the locking mechanism of the cuff and gave a threatening growl when Joe pulled back the mallet to strike.

'Yes, yes, I know Larry,' Joe said to the little dog. 'I promise I will be careful.' Another snarl. 'I promise! Urgh, you just had to adopt the dog that's a small furry version of you, didn't you?' he shot at Punk.

'Guess we're just the type that's nobody else wants,' Punk fired back from the kitchen.

He knew it was a cruel barb and from the corner of his eye, he saw Joe lower his arm and close his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath through his nose, the way he always did when he was trying to compose himself. Eventually he shrugged off Punk's vicious comment and moved on.

The cuff broke apart on the second strike and Drew's leg was finally free. He asked Punk to fetch the first aid kit ('under the sink, top shelf. You really should know this by now! What if you burn yourself or cut yourself with a knife in the kitchen!') then cleaned and wrapped the wounds on Drew's ankle. Once the Scot had been treated, Joe helped him into some old clothes of his. He may not have the height that Drew did, but he was large and broad so the clothes fitted much better than Punk's did.

By the time, they all sat down at the table to eat, Drew was transformed. Wearing a navy T-shirt and black shorts with his long hair pulled back in an old hair-tie that Punk had found in a drawer, he looked more... normal. Like any other guy. Well, except for the collar around his neck. Punk placed his food down in front of him and had a double-take, examining him from head to foot. He couldn't deny that he looked good. Really good!

He served Joe next then, after topping up Larry's bowl, he joined them at the table with his own stack of pancakes. Grabbing up the syrup first, he proceeded to empty almost the entire bottle onto his stack as Drew and Joe looked on in disgust.

'You never change,' Joe muttered. They soon tucked in and Joe's eyes lit up with the first taste of the warm pancakes. 'Wow, these are delicious! You've really improved your technique.'

Punk chewed his bottom lip awkwardly. 'I didn't make 'em,' he confessed. 'They're yours. I found them in the freezer box.'

'Wait, so they've been in there all this time?'

Punk never once took his eyes off the pancakes on his plate as he stuffed another bite into his mouth. 'Just... forgot they were there.'

The atmosphere dampened and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

A short while later, Punk escorted Joe to the door. 'Thanks again for helping out,' he said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

'No problem, I just...' Joe gently shoved Punk out onto his front step and closed the door behind him with a quick glance upstairs to make sure nobody was within earshot. 'Punker,' he said, sternly and the cage-fighter knew there was a lecture coming, 'listen to me. Drew is a big guy. He's taller than both of us and he's clearly really strong.'

'I know what you're getting at,' Punk sighed, 'and I've been thinking it too.'

'Good,' Joe cut in with relief. 'Cause anybody who trafficked a guy like Drew here and kept him prisoner all these years has to be dangerous.'

'You don't have to worry about me,' Punk smiled weakly out the side of his mouth.

'You know you have a habit of getting yourself into stupid shit you're not cut out for.'

Punk bristled at that and folded his arms across his chest. 'What you saying here exactly?'

'This isn't your problem to solve. Drew was trafficked here illegally by criminals - you have to call the cops.'

'Why?' Punk argued, getting defensive. 'So they can just toss him in a holding centre somewhere. He's already been imprisoned against his will for years, I can't do that to him again.'

'You don't know that!' Joe protested. 'You're not a social worker-'

'No shit,' Punk snapped back, 'because I'm actually helping the guy.'

'You can't let what happened to you cloud your judgement here,' Joe tried to reason with the cage-fighter who was getting more irate and closed off by the second. 'I get that what Chez and her family did for you was incredibly kind and selfless but there's no expectation on you to pay that forward.'

'And what if I want to!' Punk opened his arms wide. 'What if I just wanna do the right thing here?'

'This isn't some fifteen year old kid we're talking about,' Joe kept his voice calm and composed, the way he always did when they argued. Punk hated when he did that! 'The guy looks to be in his mid to late thirties. He's not even from here, he has a whole life and family back home, maybe even a wife and kids.'

'He doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want to,' Punk debated, 'but until he's ready, gets back on his feet, who gives a shit?'

'And what if those guys come looking for him?'

Punk paused, pursing his lips. 'We'll be alright. I'll keep him safe.'

Joe scrubbed his hand across his brow, no doubt feeling a stress headache taking hold. 'It's not him, I'm worried about. I'm worried about you.'

'I told you already, you don't need to-'

'But I do! I can't help it. Every damn minute of every damn day I worry about you and it drives me fucking crazy! I can't keep doing this.'

'Then why did you answer my call at 5am this morning? Why did you even come here?'

Joe heaved a long, weary sigh. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I really want this to work out between us, this whole 'friendship' thing, I really do, but you've got to put in the effort too. You've gotta at least try to move on.'

'You're the one who left me!' Punk was raising his voice and he couldn't help it. All the pain and hurt from the past few months was spilling out of him like water gushing through a fractured dam. 'You don't get to tell me when I'm ready to move on. Anyway, how the hell am I meant to move on when I keep finding your shit all over my house!'

He clamped his mouth shut, realising his faux-pas too late. Joe stared back at him, furious agony marring his features.

'Exactly. Your house! Your career. Your hopes, your dreams. Your life. You, you, you! That's all it's ever been about. You're so fucking selfish!'

'Yeah, well why'd you stick around so long if I was such a shitty boyfriend and an even shittier fiancé?'

Joe shrugged his shoulders in defeat. 'Good question,' he said, bitterly as he turned away. 'Least you've matured enough to admit that at last.'

Punk could have called his name, could have told him to stay and they could talk things out properly but he knew it wouldn't work. The one talent that he had was making things worse. So he let Joe walk away. Again.

Stepping back inside, he forced all the pain down deep inside him again, pushing it into the dark recesses and sealing it tight.

Right now, he had more important things to worry about than whining about how his life was falling apart at the seams. He had a blue-eyed Scot called Drew who needed him.

Who needed him to be strong.

To be continued...

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[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

What the Ace Attorney Villains Could Get Charged With (to the best of my research) (in America laws)

Game One

!Disclaimer! I know nothing about law take this with a grain of salt I was just bored.

Frank Sahwit

Burglary - This one is obvious. He was a thief. He stole stuff. How many charges exactly depends on how many he admits to or can be traced back to him.

Breaking and entering - At least one charge from Cindy's case, potentially more depending on any other burglary charges.

Assault and battery - Hitting Cindy with the Thinker. The assault may or may not be aggravated depending on whether it was technically intended to be used in a way that would readily and likely cause death.

Second-degree murder - This one could potentially be brought down to voluntary manslaughter. It depends whether he intended to kill Cindy when he hit her, and if he was in enough emotional distress that hitting her would be semi-justifiable.

Incrimination - In pinning the blame on Larry, he did this.

Fraud - Even if pretending to be a newspaper salesman to steal from people didn't constitute fraud, Payne stated this as his job. This means he lied about his job to the court by saying he was a newspaper salesman. Which is fraud.

Perjury

Redd White

Incrimination - This is when he tried to frame Maya, and when he shifted the blame on Phoenix. This may lead to two charges.

Obstruction of justice - In incriminating Maya, he tampered with the crime scene. Plus, blackmailing a judge is probably illegal and probably falls under this.

Corruption - He was a corporate official, which makes some of this other stuff constitute corruption, mostly the blackmail.

Blackmail - Speaking of, he could be faced with countless charges of this, depending how much could be tied back to him.

Assault and battery - Punching someone in the face multiple times is illegal, kids. So is hitting someone on the head. If Frank gets aggravated for the thinker, so does he. Phoenix's assault probably wasn't aggravated, though, as I doubt his rings/fists would be ruled a deadly weapon considering the intent.

Intimidation - His threat for an "accident" to happen to Phoenix is more than enough to be considered a threat of violence.

First-degree murder - His murder of Mia was completely premeditated. There's little he can do about this.

Criminal threat - Threatening to injure or kill someone is bad. And using flowery language like "accident" doesn't negate it.

Wiretapping - While he didn't actually put the wiretap there, it can be inferred he ordered it. This makes it conspiracy, so there is some shared guilt.

Conspiracy - The wiretapping was a joint effort between him and April. He may try to claim otherwise, but its degree of success is debatable.

Workplace abuse - It's a real good sign when your secretary fears you murdering her like you did to that defense attorney a couple days ago, Redd, I'm sure you could never get in legal trouble for that.

Perjury

Dee Vasquez

Racketeering - Oftentimes, people in organized crime are automatically found guilty of this. This being charging someone for a service they haven't requested (think mafia "protection").

Blackmail - This one is also pretty obvious. Jack Hammer.

Obstruction of justice - This is her tampering with the crime scene when she moved the body. Also potentially when she tried to kill a lawyer involved with the case.

Attempted murder - By proxy, two charges, when she ordered her goons to kill Phoenix and Maya.

Voluntary manslaughter - Hammer was trying to kill her, she's got that justified self-defense plea. Not that it matters much, because...

Countless other mafia-related charges - We don't know the exact details of her mafia connections, but she's entrenched enough to have goons. We can safely say she did a lot of illegal stuff in organized crime.

Intimidation - Mafia goons trying to kill you is pretty intimidating. That and the threats of erasure.

Criminal threat - See above threats of erasure.

Conspiracy - She works together with Sal Manella in the obstruction of justice.

Perjury

Manfred von Karma

Forgery - He's known to forge evidence constantly.

Obstruction of justice - See above. Plus, tazing lawyers and stealing their evidence is pretty frowned upon. So is intimidating witnesses.

Assault and battery - The evidence room fiasco. Potentially aggravated depending on the actual voltage of the tazer and if he lied about it or not, but given they didn't die, probably not.

Theft - He stole evidence from the evidence room.

Intimidation - Brandishing a taser at someone is generally considered this.

Corruption - Being a government official, most if not all this stuff constitutes corruption.

Incrimination - Due to his conspiracy with Yogi, he is guilty of attempting to frame Miles by proxy.

First-degree murder - He sees a gun and a man he doesn't like in the elevator, and he does think about it before doing it. Thus, it is premeditated and first-degree. Also, given his conspiracy with Yogi, he may also be guilty of murdering Hammond by proxy.

Child abuse - Both Miles and Franziska could push for this, even just with what we have explicitly stated. Depending on interpretation and how poor of a guardian he was, this charge could have some serious ground to stand on.

Emotional abuse - Pretty much the same hat as the child abuse charge, only less uncertain.

Criminal threat - I don't know what you want from me, man. He threatens everyone all the time.

Torture - I haven't played investigations yet, but from what I'm looking at, he psychologically tortured a guy, so. That's pretty non Geneva convention certified of him, even if this isn't a war.

Workplace abuse - Again, this is hearsay because investigations, but he's pretty crappy to his subordinates, it seems.

Solicitation - He heavily encourages Yogi to kill Hammond and frame Miles.

Conspiracy - He provides Yogi with the means to kill Hammond, so while there is technically no mutual agreement, he's also guilty of this.

Perjury

Damon Gant

Corruption - As a government official, a great deal of his crimes constitute corruption.

Forgery - A great portion of the conflict of his case comes from the forged evidence he made.

Obstruction of justice - Most of the rest of the conflict of his case comes from the evidence he withheld.

Blackmail - Quite a severe case of it, at that. Multiple years against a single person is nothing to sneeze at.

Incrimination - That's what it was when he made it look like Ema killed Neil.

First-degree murder - He thought about killing Neil long enough to consider the pros and cons of doing so, and went through with it. That's pretty premeditated. A good lawyer may be able to get him down to second degree for Goodman, but it's highly doubtful considering.

Conspiracy - He had Lana hide Goodman's body, and while there was blackmail involved, there was still a mutual agreement. Thus, conspiracy.

Concealment of death - There are a few different names for this, but it's when he had Lana hide Goodman's body. It was unsuccessful, but there were still significant steps taken to have it happen on both their parts, so he may get a partial sentence.

Criminal threat - He makes so many threats.

Workplace abuse - I think using a pipe organ to punish your employees violates some international laws or something. Speaking of which...

Torture - Of the audio variety. Seriously this guy is the police how did this fly for so long that is BAD.

Vigilantism - This is actually very interesting. Despite the fact that he is a member of law enforcement and Joe Darke did kill multiple people, he still used illegal means to bring him to some form of justice. Depending on how much he wanted Darke convicted, it could be argued that his actions constitute vigilantism.

Assault and battery - One case of assault against Goodman, and two charges of battery against Neil and Goodman. Assault is the threat of violence and the means to follow through, and battery is the actual act of violence; seeing as Neil was unconscious, he could not have been threatened. The assault was aggravated, as a knife is a deadly weapon.

Perjury

GAME TWO

[quillandtea]

Rambling thoughts

Hi everyone! Welcome to my blog, where I’ll be sharing some thoughts, reflections, and maybe a few rambles. I recently joined a new fandom, and it's been quite the experience. Just a heads-up: these are my opinions. Disagreeing is totally fine, but let’s keep things respectful—no cursing or aggressive language. We’re all here to enjoy and discuss, not tear each other down.

So, yes, I’m a Luke and Nicola shipper, but that doesn’t mean I see everything through rose-colored glasses. I have my own thoughts and questions, and after a bit of a spiral recently, I wanted to share some of what’s been on my mind. I’ve been in fandoms for over 20 years, and each new one seems to come with its own surprises. I got into Bridgerton after a random promo video popped up on my Instagram, and before I knew it, I was deep in the Polin fandom. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola is undeniable, and their connection on screen really hooked me. But, as with any fandom, there’s also a more complicated side.

In fandoms, people often get caught up in finding “Easter eggs” and signs. Seeing fans analyze every interaction between Luke and Nicola reminds me of the One Direction “Larry” theories, where every glance or social media post was seen as confirmation of something more. I’m seeing that same intensity here, with some fans interpreting every interaction as a hint of romance. But they’re actors—it’s their job to make us believe in their characters' relationship.

One thing that stands out to me is the double standard surrounding Nicola’s interactions with other co-stars, like Luke Thompson or JD. For example, she’s been seen holding hands and traveling with JD, but fans don’t make much of it or dismiss it as staged. But if she held hands with Luke Newton, it would be treated as a “sign.” It’s messy when real people and selective perceptions get involved, especially when we’re projecting what we want to see.

And now, here’s where things get personal. I respect Nicola as an actress and admire her as a person. She’s talented, charming, and seems genuinely kind. But I don’t put her, or any celebrity, on a pedestal. Celebrities are complex individuals, and we usually only see one side of them. That said, if Nicola really is in a relationship with JD, a man significantly younger than her, it stirs something uncomfortable for me.

I’m about to turn 38, and my child is 24. I became a mom as a teenager, and my journey was anything but easy. I also endured sexual abuse, which deeply shaped how I view relationships, power dynamics, and boundaries. I have a very clear sense of what feels comfortable in a relationship, and seeing a large age gap, particularly when one person could be close in age to my child, doesn’t sit right with me. Large age gaps can bring complications—differences in life experience, maturity, and power dynamics that can be hard to ignore, especially when people are at different life stages.

Seeing those recent photos of Nicola and JD, it’s hard not to consider the possibility that this might be a “soft launch” of something more. It doesn’t seem like she was expecting to meet a paparazzo, which to me suggests that this might be more than a friendship. And if it is, well, it feels like she might be more invested than he is. There’s something about JD that just feels... off.

Nicola’s free to make her choices, and I respect her right to live her life as she sees fit. But if she really is dating JD, I have to admit that it impacts how I view her. Integrity matters to me, and it’s hard to ignore the dynamics involved. Honestly, I don’t know where I’m going with this—just a bit of a ramble, I guess.

In the end, this is Nicola’s life, and I truly hope she finds happiness. But I also hope fans don’t turn this into a fairy-tale romance if it doesn’t deserve that label. Let’s appreciate the talent Luke and Nicola bring to their roles without digging into their personal lives. And for those “expert anons” hyping every little “clue,” maybe take a step back. Enjoy the characters, love the stories, and let the actors live their lives as they choose.

[blood-n-candy]

NEW UPDATE'S COMING SOON, SO I'M SPEEDRUNNING HEADCANONS PART 2: GROUP ENTITIES + GOOD PEOPLE

For the entities that have multiple instances canonically, meaning that I can't go into specifics. Also Good People is in this post because I procastinated any thoughts about them for far too long, but I prefer dedicate the upcoming entities to their own post-

Oh well, enjoy!

PUDDLES OF VOID-MASS (Collective It/Its, each puddle can have additional pronouns sets)

Collective unknown age, voice varies from puddle to puddle

Used to refer to itself as The Void Children, it nows uses Larry because it sounds nice and it's Mother-approved

Speaking of Mother, it's the giant Void Egg that spawns all puddles. Even if physically separated, each and every puddle is biologically connected to the rest of the void mass and Mother in a tight hivemind, meaning there's a costant exchange of nutrients and information through every puddle you spot

The colors indicate the puddle's role! Purple puddles are scavengers/main eaters, Green ones are explorers (they check spaces for colonization), Red ones are defenders of the hivemind space, and Gold puddles take care of the exchange of information between Mother and the puddles

Each puddle can eat and defend itself, it's just that purple ones digest faster while red ones have more range of attack and can throw targets away

Mother is supposed to be white, but with containment it turned purple out of stress. Stressed Mother = More food is needed for Mother, and once a certain quota of nutrients is met, Mother has the possibility of getting the entire hivemind to safety

SQUIDDLES (Don't have collective pronouns despite their status)

Semi hivemind for the same reasons of Puddles of Void-Mass, but they don't have a central figure and each Squiddle is more unique

Part of the information exchange is about what faces are potentially scary to humans/enemies, and those faces are displayed on their masks

They can all deny it, but they're a cult worshipping the Death Angel. If the latter actually becomes one of the new entities, that is because all of the Squiddles summoned him in one big ritual circle, and the amount of summoning was such that now his manifestation is stable enough to stay in the Blacksite instead of instantly disappearing upon claiming his victims

Footnote to the aforementioned headcanon, they learned the summoning spell from the devs :D

They really like Pinkie's leadership, they wish to add her to their cult. Pinkie is unsettled by the idea, but hey, at least they're competent in the tasks she assigns them to!

WALL DWELLERS (No collective pronouns, but a lot of them go by Ze/Zir)

Philogenetically-wise, they're the modern cousins of the Candlebearers! In the course of evolution, they've adopted a more aggressive hunting style that however made them physically weaker to attacks, hence why they rely on the surprise factor and camouflage

There are two other variants of Wall Dwellers that are more adapted to dwell on outdoor walls: one with a concrete camo layer and one with bricks. The first one hides better in concrete walls, while the other in any brick and stone-made wall. Urbanshade hasn't foudn them yet...

If you see objects floating around one of them, don't panic. Why? Wall Dweller secret ;)

Some of them are trying to find a way to hide higher on walls. Apparently the goal of these individuals is to colonize the ceilings for even more effective attacks (HELP)

George (aka Good People) (They/It/Fae/Ze)

Unknown age, seems in their mid 30s

Boyflux Demienby, t4t bisexual

Mute, speaks with BSL (British Sign Language)

Didn’t know anybody at all prior to the containment breach because faer body materializes only with a starting host, started roaming and killing both out of hunger and pure panic. Currently in the process of meeting the rest of the anomalies

Incredibly strong, a 1v1 with Pandemonium would be quite the spectacle (I do not recommend trying to spectate it tho, you might die either as collateral damage or because the focus of the violence shifts onto you)

Despite the asocial nature, p.AI.nter knows a lot about George. If anything, he’s the only friend ze has. Guess that accidental broadcasting of the Hamlet recording proved to be useful after all…