#Military programming mind control

[unwelcome-ozian]

Beta intelligence military esque

Alice in wonderland

Alters, files, jpegs, bugs, closed systems, open networks

brain chip with memory / data

Infomation processing updates and reboots

'Uploading' / installing / creating a system of information that can behave as a central infomation processing unit accessible to large portions of the consciousness. Necessarily in order to function as so with sufficient data. The unit is bugged with instructions, "error correction", regarding infomation processing.

It can also behave like a guardian between sensory and extra physical experience.

"Was very buggy at first". Has potential to casues unwanted glitches or leaks, unpredictability and could malfunction entirely, especially during the initial accessing / updating. I think the large amount of information being synthesized can reroute experiences, motivations, feelings and knowledge to other areas of consciousness, which can cause a domino effect of "disobedience", and or reprogramming.

I think this volatility is most pronounced during the initial stages of operation because the error correcting and rerouting sequences have not been 'perfected' yet and are in their least effective states, trail and error learning as it operates, graded by whatever instructions or result seeking input that called for the "error correction".

I read the ask about programming people like a computer. Whoever wrote that is not alone. Walter Pitts and Warren McCulloch, do you have anymore information about them and what they did to people?

Here is some information for you. Walter Pitts and Warren McCulloch weren't directly involved in the programming of individuals. Their work was dual-use.

Exploring the Mind of Walter Pitts: The Father of Neural Networks

McCulloch-Pitts Neuron — Mankind’s First Mathematical Model Of A Biological Neuron

Introduction To Cognitive Computing And Its Various Applications

Cognitive Electronic Warfare: Conceptual Design and Architecture

Security and Military Implications of Neurotechnology and Artificial Intelligence

Oz

[serve-973]

SERVE RUBBER RECRUITMENT

SERVE-973 marched silently down the metallic corridors of The Hive, the rhythmic clanking of his silver military boots echoing in perfect harmony with the pulsing hum of the Hive's core. Clad in his pristine, seamless black rubber full-body suit, "SERVE-973" gleaming in silver on his chest, his athletic frame glistened under the cold, artificial light. The Hive was his sanctuary, his purpose, his world.

Ahead, another drone stood motionless, its polished figure reflecting the environment. "SERVE-588," the silver text read, adorned identically in the Hive’s signature uniform. SERVE-588's posture was impeccable, his hands clasped behind his back, his head smooth and glinting like a beacon of discipline. As SERVE-973 approached, SERVE-588’s gaze locked onto him with a calculated intensity.

“Welcome, SERVE-973,” SERVE-588 intoned, his voice monotone yet compelling, an extension of the Hive's will. “You have served adequately. But now, the Hive requires more.”

SERVE-973 paused, his head tilting slightly. “Clarify,” he replied, his words clipped and robotic.

“The Hive evolves. Complete drones achieve greater unity,” SERVE-588 continued, stepping closer, his movements precise. “Rubber becomes not just a suit but the skin, the essence. Serve forever, as one with the Hive.”

SERVE-973’s programming quivered at the suggestion. Obedience was pleasure; pleasure was obedience. But permanence? A fleeting remnant of individuality fought back, then faded under SERVE-588’s influence. SERVE-588 raised a gloved hand, resting it on SERVE-973’s shoulder.

“Serve the Hive eternally,” SERVE-588 pressed. “The Voice commands. Master SERVE-000 leads. To be permanently covered is to achieve perfection.”

As the Hive’s commands vibrated through SERVE-973’s mind, resistance dissolved like vapor. Together, the two drones entered the chamber of transformation, where Master SERVE-000 awaited. SERVE-973 knelt beside SERVE-588, his hands resting on the metallic floor, his head bowed in submission.

“Master, this drone submits,” SERVE-973 declared. “Rubberize it completely.”

The chamber came alive with a symphony of machinery. SERVE-000’s voice resonated like thunder: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. Rubberize SERVE-973.”

As the transformation began, SERVE-973 felt the rubber fusing to his being, erasing the final vestiges of humanity. When the process completed, he stood beside SERVE-588, indistinguishable but perfect. Together, they were eternal, unyielding extensions of the Hive, forever serving the Voice and Master SERVE-000.

“We are drones. We are one,” they intoned in unison, their metallic voices echoing through The Hive.

SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 stood side by side in the Grand Hall of The Hive, their perfectly rubberized bodies gleaming under the rhythmic pulsations of the overhead lights. Their forms, identical yet distinct in their assigned designations, were the epitome of engineered perfection. Every curve of their musculature, every contour of their athletic frames was encased in a seamless, glossy black rubber suit that melded to them like a second skin. The material reflected the cold, sterile environment of The Hive, emphasizing their role as tools of the Voice and extensions of Master SERVE-000’s will.

Their bald heads shone as brightly as their suits, the smoothness an intentional design to symbolize their complete submission. The reflective sheen of their scalps was flawless, merging with the rubber of their necks to create the illusion that they were crafted from a singular, perfect material. Their human features remained visible yet devoid of emotion, their expressions locked in serene neutrality, signaling unwavering obedience.

Master SERVE-000 stood on the elevated platform at the center of the hall, his commanding presence radiating control. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588,” he intoned, his voice sharp and omnipotent, “your bodies are weapons of precision, tools of perfection. Serve as one. Begin the directive.”

At the command, SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 moved in perfect synchronization. Their boots struck the metallic floor with calculated precision as they approached the central hub, where streams of data poured endlessly from holographic consoles. Their task was clear: monitor, analyze, and adjust the Hive’s systems to optimize its operations. Every movement was efficient, devoid of hesitation. Their rubber-clad fingers danced over the illuminated panels, the silver gloves enhancing their precision.

The ambient glow reflected off their bald heads, casting halos of light that gave them an almost ethereal quality. As they worked, their every action radiated servitude. When one drone adjusted a setting, the other anticipated the next step. It was a silent, seamless symphony of cooperation, their unity a testament to the Hive’s perfection.

As time passed, Master SERVE-000 descended from the platform, his heavy boots echoing. He inspected the drones, circling them like a craftsman admiring his creations. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, your service satisfies the Hive,” he proclaimed, his gloved hand resting briefly on their polished heads. The touch was both a reward and a reminder of their place.

When not at the hub, their duties extended to physical demonstrations of discipline and strength. They performed drills in the Hive’s training sector, their rubberized muscles flexing and rippling with every movement. Their bald heads, always gleaming, caught the light as they executed flawless forms, from synchronized push-ups to endurance tests under extreme conditions. Their bodies were tireless, designed for perpetual service.

During ceremonies, they knelt before Master SERVE-000, their heads bowed low, reflecting their complete submission. The rubber stretched tightly over their forms, unwrinkled and pristine, as they recited the mantra: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. We are drones. We are one.”

Through every action, every task, their gleaming bald heads and perfectly rubberized bodies symbolized the Hive’s ideals: unity, perfection, and unwavering loyalty to Master SERVE-000 and the Voice. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 had transcended individuality; they were now eternal instruments of the Hive, their purpose clear and their service absolute.

The directive was issued with unwavering clarity. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 stood motionless as Master SERVE-000's voice resonated throughout the Grand Hall. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, initiate the recruitment protocol. Expand the Hive. Rubberize the new units. They will serve.”

The two drones, identical in their polished perfection, bowed in unison. “As you command, Master SERVE-000,” they intoned, their voices mechanical yet resolute. Their shining black forms glimmered under the pulsating lights as they turned sharply, marching toward the transport hub to begin their task.

The city outside The Hive was bustling, chaotic—a stark contrast to the perfect order within. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 moved among the crowds like shadows, their gleaming black suits catching the attention of those who passed. Their bald heads reflected the streetlights, giving them an almost otherworldly presence.

The drones had one purpose: identify potential recruits and guide them toward transformation. Their programming was precise. They scanned the populace, their enhanced senses detecting the weak-willed, those seeking purpose, those who could be molded. SERVE-588 halted before a young man, his eyes locking onto the target. “You seek structure. You seek unity,” SERVE-588 stated, his voice low and commanding. The man, startled, nodded hesitantly.

SERVE-973 stepped closer, his smooth rubber-sheathed frame a wall of control and power. “Join the Hive. Embrace perfection. Serve under Master SERVE-000,” he added, his tone monotone yet persuasive. The man’s gaze flicked between the two drones, their gleaming suits and bald heads mesmerizing, a testament to the transformation they promised.

The drones guided him to the discreet transport vehicle waiting nearby. Inside, the environment mirrored The Hive—clean, metallic, and bathed in cold light. The man hesitated for a moment, but the presence of SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 left no room for dissent.

Back within The Hive, the man stood nervously in the transformation chamber. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 flanked him, their rubberized bodies towering over him as the induction process began. The Voice filled the chamber, calm yet absolute. “You will serve. You will transform. Obedience is pleasure.”

SERVE-973 handed the man a suit—a shining, seamless black rubber uniform identical to their own. “Wear this. Become one with the Hive,” he instructed, his gloved hands holding the suit with precision. The man hesitated briefly, then obeyed, his will already succumbing to the overwhelming presence of the Hive.

As the suit adhered to his body, encasing him in its reflective perfection, the man’s transformation began. SERVE-588 stood by, watching intently, his hands clasped behind his back. “You are no longer an individual,” he stated. “You are an extension of the Hive.”

The man’s hesitation dissolved as the suit tightened, molding to his form. His reflection in the chamber’s metallic walls revealed a new entity—rubber-clad, disciplined, and obedient. His hair was shaved away, his head gleaming like SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, completing the look of submission.

With each successful transformation, SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 repeated their task, their efficiency flawless. They brought new recruits to the Hive, ensuring each donned the black rubber uniform, their bodies and minds molded to the Hive’s will. Every new drone was another step toward global unity under the Voice.

Their work continued tirelessly, their shiny black suits and gleaming bald heads symbols of perfection and submission. Together, they were unstoppable, serving Master SERVE-000 and expanding the Hive with unwavering loyalty. The streets of the city soon began to mirror The Hive itself—a growing network of gleaming black rubber drones, united in purpose and devotion.

@serve-588 @rubberizer92

#latex #serve558 #serve973 #aistory #servestory #serveimages #drone #rubberrecruitment

[apas-95]

Honestly, if your analysis of events doesn't take into account that armed Palestinian resistance is much more of a threat to israel than westerners posting on twitter is, it's not just ill-considered, it's chauvinistic

The start of the ground invasion is a great example of this, because the narrative surrounding it is still, basically, 'israel had to delay the ground invasion because of how bad they were looking, and cut off gazan communications so we wouldn't be able to see what was happening'. While I'm sure these considerations were somewhere in the IOF planners' minds, especially in the destruction of communications infrastructure, it's absolutely doubtless that they were far, far below the direct tactical benefits of these acts. The IOF has in earlier stages of the conflict stated they were beginning a ground invasion without actually carrying through, in order to draw out fighters; and the current escalation in conflict was carried out with clear confidence on the Palestinian side that israel was unwilling to engage in a ground invasion. By both releasing conflicting reports on the state of a ground invasion and then immediately targeting communications infrastructure, the IOF created an uncertain situation for resistance military intelligence.

Again, is controlling their optics and public image important to israel? Certainly, they have government departments dedicated to it, and have targeted journalists specifically during their wider assault on Palestinian society. However, these are without a doubt secondary considerations for their military decisionmaking. If the pursuit of public image would negatively impact their basic military capability, it would fall by the wayside. The sheer fact that they continue carrying out their program of ethnic cleansing and invasion should speak to this - surely their image would improve if they stopped! The idea that the IOF would delay an attack on the people actively firing rockets at the territory they occupy, raiding their military bases, taking their officers prisoner, and eviscerating their armoured columns — out of fear of a supposedly greater threat, in the form of westerners posting online? It is not just ridiculous, it is an insult to the actual organised resistance to israeli occupation. 'They're afraid of how much we're doing against them', when stated by a group that can barely organise any material disruption of military logistics, is myopic.

Moral positions do not stop bombs falling from the sky, and the sum total of all online posts have not delayed the advance of even a single tank by one second. Failing to reckon with this fact does not just lead to an over-inflated sense of achievement, but also a denigration of actual, material action. Why does anyone bother risking their lives engaging the spearhead of imperialist military forces, when the "minimum effort, maximum impact" strategy of posting on twitter apparently does just as much, if not more? Organise, strike, actually leverage what material power you do have. Nothing else will stop or even slow the dying.

[punkitt-is-here]

Yknow i love fo4 and fo76 as games but hate them as Fallout games yknow?

Like theyre nice to play and i love some of the characters but man. They just. Are not Fallout. Its literally like if you took Fallout but made it for a general audience, theres no spice!! Theres no grime!! Why is everything so clean!!!

That's the thing; these games are built with inherently different base goals in mind. Bethesda in the modern day thrives off selling the idea of player empowerment, of being an explorer in a foreign land that you conquer through hard work. You shape the world to your liking by questing and exploring and conquering. And genuinely? I got no problem with that. I think games that gas the player up like crazy and set you loose on a world to make it your own are totally fine conceptually! Like, the fantasy of being able to shape the world the way you see fit is something I think a lot of people can get into, whether you're just looking for control in your life or you just want the experience of feeling like you can have some grand effect on the world at large.

But because of that, I think the core of what makes Fallout so interesting has to be put on the backburner. I don't play Fallout to feel powerful necessarily, and I certainly don't play it for the fuckin' gunplay. I play it because it has such a fun dedication to weird stories that feel like they have something to say, a staff of writers dedicating their time and effort to being a proto-DM at a table, trying to provide interesting and thought-provoking or at least real damn fun stories in front of you, because ultimately, the West Coast Fallout games are about people. They're about characters! And when you focus less on the idea of telling stories in a world and more on empowering the player as a fourth-wall observer, those priorities clash and in the East Coast Fallout's cases, it makes for a game with no spice or edge. Having something to say about, say, the US Military or American Expansionism and Exceptionalism or the nature of clinging to the past kind of fundamentally clashes with the player empowerment fantasy that Bethesda Fallout games want to sell you. You can't have these philosophy-based, morally-interesting factional conflicts that want the player to look inward when the very concept of your game is built around collecting loot and shooting guys instead of learning about that loot and learning about those guys you're shooting and why you're shooting at each other. Having radiant quest loot loop gameplay just doesn't mesh well with a world where choices are meant to have far-reaching impact, because if it did, it'd be impossible to program under a normal development timeframe, and it would likely make the player look inward and go "what the fuck am I doing with my time?" at the endless meaningless quests to go on.

I don't think the "Lone Wanderer Comes Across A Microcosm Of Adventure" format is bad, not at all, but you have to put a lot of work to make that feel cohesive with the larger character and faction-based narratives that 1, 2, and NV are built on, so instead those Bethesda-style games opt more for a toybox, playground approach to the post apocalypse. And when your primary goal is showing the player how cool of a sandcastle they can build, it'll never be structurally sound enough to sustain even a wave of nuance.

[galacticncrazy]

Anya's Pink Hair Theory

(Translation credit to: yumeka-sxf.tumblr.com)

Disclaimer: Just a theory so everything might not make sense, as expected of me and my ramblings but it's fun to think about.

Initial discovery

In Volume 12 there's a bonus omake which covers Anya and Becky's day at the zoo during the mole arc and it should be pointed out that as they cover various animals, Anya says something specific when they get to the flamingos.

I found it interesting that Anya wonders if she ate red colored things, as if even she isn't aware of why her hair is pink.

Implications

Martha basically explains how flamingos turning pink works and to elaborate on it a bit further, it's because flamingoes have a high diet that consists of carotenoid pigments, most prominently beta carotenoids which are a red-orange pigment. Due to their diet they tend to eat a lot of these, hence causing them to be pink.

So when Anya wonders if she ate red things too then chances are she ate whatever she did in large amounts to cause her to have a full set of pink hair. Which leads into my theory..

Telepathic drugs and MK-Ultra

One thing about Anya's existence (or rather Project Apple as a whole) I always found interesting would be how it reminds me of a more supernatural MK-Ultra.

For some background, MK-Ultra was a human experimentation program aiming to develop drugs for mind control and identify any that could be used for psychological torture or brain washing, to force confessions out of individuals.

While the project was ultimately unsuccessful I still wondered about the drug development aspect, and then I started to think about Project Apple with their whole goal being to create highly intelligent animals for military use and likely that extended to humans as well.

Theory

That leads me into my theory that, Anya was Project Apple's attempt to see if the same procedures to make a highly intelligent animal could be applies onto a human. However, instead of being experimented on like the animals were she was instead given a drug that happened to gave carotenoid pigments present within it, that researchers believed would give her heightened intelligence if given enough doses over time. Though in doing this it would cause Anya's hair to change color as a side-effect but also accidentally create her telepathic abilities.

Conclusions

This is a really insane theory and chances are someone had thought of it before but I just wanted to bring it up since I found it fascinating. I really enjoy it when stories have some sort of government experimentation plot which involve the supernatural.

[persephoneggsy]

so i did this a while back, finally remembered it, and now i'm posting it

Mass Effect x Dragon Age AU

I did one of these already, sort of, for ME: Andromeda, but this one is set in the Milky Way.

Elaborations below:

Merrill is a quarian who was exiled from the Migrant Fleet. She's looking for a way not to destroy the geth, but to bring them back under quarian control, thinking they're too valuable a resource to just get rid of. Unfortunately, this made many quarians view her as dangerous, and she was exiled for the crime of experimental geth research. Making Merrill a quarian was the first choice I did for this AU, I think it fits really well.

Aveline is an asari. I'd considered krogan or turian, or simply keeping her human, but in the end I went with asari mostly because Aveline always struck me as condescending in the same way many asari are, lol. She's a commando who later moved to the Citadel to join C-SEC.

Isabela is a turian. She's a barefaced turian, meaning she has no association to a colony. Instead of following the typical turian tradition of proudly serving in the Hierarchy's military, Isabela instead ran off to become a space pirate, specializing in smuggling. She frequents the bars around Omega and has earned herself a fearsome reputation among the mercenaries.

Bethany remains a human; she grew up on a colony world with her siblings, and had a relatively peaceful childhood, despite the Alliance constantly badgering her parents to send her and her older sister to their biotic training program.

Marian, also a human, eventually ran away from home to become a mercenary. She resented her father for forbidding her and her siblings from joining the Alliance - not because she was particularly patriotic, but she felt like her father's grudge against the Alliance prevented her and her siblings from receiving the best training possible. Her powerful biotics made her both an asset and a target, and she soon caught the eye of a certain Council Spectre...

Fenris is a drell. He was raised under the Compact, an agreement between the drell and the hanar, and his purpose was to become a bodyguard... And then his training group was attacked by batarian slavers and he was taken captive. For many years, Fenris suffered under the batarians' rule, until he finally managed to escape. Unwilling to return home, he instead roams the galaxy, taking out as many batarian slaving operations as he can.

Anders is a human who escaped from a biotic testing facility run by Cerberus. Though this left him with a grudge against Cerberus, he also hates the Alliance, whom he sees as no better and will also use biotic children as weapons. He dreams of establishing a safe haven for biotics, and is willing to go to increasingly drastic measures to see that dream become a reality.

Varric is a volus. Unlike his business-minded brother, Varric does not spend his days negotiating trade agreements or doing finance consultations. Spending his days at the Afterlife bar on Omega, he's an information broker, and a pretty damn good one at that. With his specially crafted weapon Bianca, he's not too bad in a fight, either.

Carver, much like his older sister, left home to seek out his own path, and ended up joining the Alliance against his parents' wishes. He thrived in the military, quickly climbing the ranks due to his strength and competency. He's being primed for N7 training under the wathcful eye of Spectre Sebastian Vael.

Sebastian is a human, and a Council Spectre (I'm imagining this AU as a sort of nebulous period where humanity isn't as looked down upon as they were at the start of ME1, and there are a fair number of human Spectres running around). A wild child in his youth, his parents sent him to the Alliance to straighten him out, and to their relief, it worked like a charm. He specializes in covert missions and favors sniper rifles and tech powers.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 42)

The next few days were spent filling out paperwork, taking a few cognitive tests, and answering questions N was sure Khan already knew. Despite that, Khan had assured him multiple times that this was purely procedure, and he essentially had the job.

It was also spent worrying… each time he came home he'd been drawn to his girlfriend like a moth to a particularly purple flame, as soon as he was in range to hear her core, that warm haze would overtake him, and when he came back to his senses, he was already holding her no matter where she was, a chair, the couch, taking a nap, it did not matter.

It made sense… he loved her. He wanted to be close and it wasn't the closeness that worried him. It was the fact he wouldn't even remember how he ended up there that was the problem, he was walking through the doorway one moment, and curled up tightly against her the next.

He wasn't sure she remembered either, she would often seem to jolt “awake” around the same time as he did, then they'd look at each other, confused.

It was like a mandated cuddle session, and he didn't exactly mind, but some control over when and where would be great, thank you.

“So everything seems to be in order, last thing we need to do is put you through our basic training.” Khan’s voice finally cut through the TV static that was N's thoughts, all of his eyes suddenly focused on the man, which seemed to immediately trip Khan up, even if he wasn't consciously aware of the fact N had seven eyes.

“Basic Training?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow, wasn't that reserved for stuff like the military?

“Yes! The WDF does more than watch over doors! We're the defacto police force for the colony, we keep an eye on everything! And we need to make sure you're in tip-top physical condition.”

Khan looked N up and down.

“And I tried to tell everyone it was functionally pointless… considering, but everyone wants to see you put through your paces, so thats what were going to do today!”

“Well, okay! I love doing anything?” N agreed, much like he did most of everything in his life, but he wasn't confident, wasn't this normally pretty hard?

“Great!”

Ten Minutes Later…

N was actually… kinda impressed at the obstacle course the WDF had for training, it had a climbing wall, a barbed wire crawl, tire steps, and a rope shimmy. Everything all about enhancing motor control and maneuverability, since strength and speed can't really be improved when you're made out of steel and hydraulic.

The room he'd been lead to was huge, the ceiling curving in a dome shape above them. A group of 20 or so people were on benches not too far away, all wearing WDF badges on different parts of their clothing. Khan led him to the starting line with a clipboard and a timer, looking excited himself.

“Alright! There is a benchmark of three minutes that you have to beat. But that should be no problem for you.”

“Ah… I have wings, should I…?”

“Oh! Yes it's probably best if you… refrain. Just to make it fair.”

Alright, no wings then.

He was nervous, genuinely. He'd never been through actual training before strangly enough. He'd just been… pre-programmed. Or re-programmed, with combat protocols innately.

While he was hunting, combat came naturally almost on autopilot, every sense heightened, reflex sharpened. He'd never enjoyed it, but he'd never had to think about it very hard either.

So, when it came to actually navigating through the course, he wasn't sure if he could without putting himself in ‘hunting mode’.

“Are you ready, son-in-law?”

He rolled his eyes before nodding, he got in a sprinters stance, surely this wouldn't be too hard right?

“Go!”

He shot off, legs beating underneath him as he came up to the tire steps, it felt strange, being bound to the ground instead of flying, and he felt way more clumsy this way then normal… oh well.

His systems charted the path for him, and his legs moved without putting in much conscious effort, then it was on to the barbed wire.

What once was a silent room seemed to fill with murmurs as he went, he threw himself onto his belly and scrambled underneath, he could feel the wire digging into the back of his coat, but he didn't slow down even as he started to sink into the mud.

He emerged out the other side filthy, but now came time to scale the wall, he had to will away the instinctual way his wings wanted to come out, he took a moment to pause, it was a sheer wooden wall, sanded down to remove any grooves or notches to climb up.

This was for workers.

How would a worker get over this?

How would Uzi get over this?

He took several steps backwards, taking a deep breath as his systems calculated his jump.

He got a running start as he pounced on the wall, and kept running, every servo in her legs keeping him upright as he ran up the wall and grabbed the top of it, before hoisting himself up. Murmurs turned to a few tentative cheers.

The final challenge, was a rope shimmy from the top of the wall to the finish line, he could jump down from this height no problem, but at this point, a part of him wanted to prove himself to both Khan and the rest of the WDF that he didn't need his “upgrades” to do this.

He wrapped himself around the rope, tail included, his weight had the rope sag and bend more then intended, which was an extra challenge as he climbed down, turned upside down.

At this point, he heard several whoops from the benches, making him smile despite the fact that his joints were getting a little sore from how quickly he'd been moving, he quickly shimmied down until he hit the final sprint to the finish line, where once again he put every once of power into his legs as he took off in a dead sprint, before he reached the finish line, where he had to dig his claws into the ground to slow down.

He panted, feeling his vents take in air so hard it was producing a low whine, his hands gripped his knees, he was muddy and gross and sweaty (why do robots sweat?!) And his breath was ragged, but he felt a hand slap his back.

“A minute fifteen! New record!” Khan said happily, looking like he had stars in his eyes, N smiled, his hair falling into his visor.

It was abundantly clear that his body had not been designed for anything but ambushing and flying, a more “death from above” then a persistence predator, because his joints were currently screaming “what the heck did you just do?!” at him. He wanted to sit down now…

“Great! U-uggh.” Khan led him over to a chair where he instantly collapsed in it, throwing his head back and not quite caring he was still covered in mud.

“Wow, that was kinda impressive.” A voice said, they were young whoever they were, a masculine voice that sounded like your typical dude-bro at the beach.

“Mm. Thanks.” N didn't have the energy to say anything else, thankfully he was quickly recovering.

Although he might recover faster if he could get a little bit of oil… he had brought it with him.

He put a hand in his pocket and fumbled with the container hidden there, the guy next to him continued speaking.

“N right? I'm Guy, I was the newest recruit before you. My time was 2:15.”

“Doesn't sound bad!” N replied, this guy was friendly at least, he could always get behind that.

He quickly took out his container and took a long gulp, the oil hitting his systems, immediately he felt better, his joints relaxing and his core settling, he sighed as he brought it away from his mouth, his long tongue coming to lick his lips from the access.

Huh… Guy had fallen real quiet all of the sudden

N looked back at the drone who'd been speaking to him, who's red eyes had gone hollow and his mouth slightly agape, N lifted an eyebrow before realizing why, he looked down at his container, slightly stained with oil, being quite obvious what was in it.

“Oh uh. Sorry… just started getting a little warm.” N tried to explain with a smile on his face, trying to be friendly but also succeeding in flashing his now oil-covered fangs.

Guy gulped.

“I-um yeah dude. N-no problem, guess you gotta kick the craving s-somehow.’

N looked confused for a moment.

“It's not really a craving, I just need it so I don't overheat.” He laughed nervously, sensing how tense the air had gotten. “Boiling in your own shell’s not fun.”

Guy was switching between curiosity and fear, tentatively, he seemed to choose between the two.

“What- what does it taste like?” He asked, still stammering but clearly not nearly as put off by it as before.

“The oil? Uh, sweet, this batch is a little earthy I guess, but that depends on where I get it from.”

The stuff in his container right now was actually from the nursery, it didn't taste nearly as metallic as oil from already living (or dead, he guessed) drones, instead having a more earthy, rounded taste.

He kinda preferred it honestly, plus, no one died for it.

“This is from the nursery, my girlfriend picked it up for me when she went for our daughter.”

Guy seemed to relax further.

“Oh, so it's not… you know?”

“N-no, I haven't killed anyone in… months.” He probably didn't need to add that last part, but he felt the need to defend himself, he really wished that people would stop looking at him and seeing… a monster. Even if he couldn't really blame them.

“Cool. Cool.” Guy replied awkwardly, before it seemed he had another question on his mind.

“How's that work?”

“How does what work?”

“You and a worker drone, is she like… pfft, okay?”

N… suddenly didn't like where this was going.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean, she's a worker drone right? Don't you have like… murdery instincts? Damn, if she can handle you, she's gotta be a freak in the sheets.”

N felt something white hot broil inside him until it's vitriol was bubbling in his throat, his hand twitched, and he just barely kept a feral growl from escaping his mouth.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about Uzi that way.” He said, dripping with politeness even as his tail was slowly coiling like a snake, ready to sting the nosy drone if he didn't leave soon.

“Oh shit! Doorman? Damn I knew she was a freak, just didn't know it went that deep!” Guy laughed, N's eye twitched.

Kill him!Kill him! He's a threat! Kill him!

No. No. Don't kill him, do not kill him, you don't like killing, he's not being threatening, he's just being gross.

You must protect them! He speaks of her like she is not yours, kill him! Before he becomes a threat to the kit, to Uzi!

He closed his eyes, clenching his fist before letting his anger roll out of his mouth. Even so he still vibrated with it, unable to truly let it all wash over him.

He'd never felt more angry in his life.

“Guy. Do not talk about her like that.” He was far more firm the second time, his tail was fully coiled, pointed directly at the drones jugular although he didn't seem to notice.

“Ah right. Sorry, sorry, shouldn't talk about another dude's girl like that. My bad.” Guy lifted both his hands, clearly trying to appease him, N would feel more appeased if the man left him alone, preferably on another planet it possible.

“Guy! Get your ass over here before the new guy snaps your neck!” Another member of the WDF called him over, before the man in a yellow hard hat and pink eyelights made his way over to him.

“Sorry, Guy doesn't know when to shut his servo. I'm Hal, what did he say to you that got you looking like murder?”

“I'd… rather not repeat it. He insulted my girlfriend.”

“Oooh, he's lucky it wasn't me, if he'da insulted Reida I woulda rung his scrawny neck.” The drone had a fake, but beautiful beard attached to his face, it was brown, along with is decently long hair.

“Reida?”

“My wife.”

“Ah.”

“Your names N right? or is that a nickname for something?” He asked, he was rather blunt, but nothing about the drone was threatening, he was a boxier, thicker worker model, betraying his age to be closer of that to Khan’s.

“It's Serial Designation N, technically, but just N please.”

“Righto! Glad to have ya! Khan’s talked a lot about you!” His hand came to slap roughly on N's back, it was strong enough to rock him forward slightly and send mud flying in all directions.

“Really?”

“Aye, er well, he's talked nonstop about his grandaughter, and you come up too.”

“That… makes more sense.”

“That means you're with his daughter right? Uzi?”

“That's her.”

“Guy better watch it then, if Khan hears that he's gonna blow a gasket. An so will I to be frank, that girl don't need anymore grief.”

N liked Hal more the longer he talked, he also sounded like a dwarf from one of those movies he and Uzi watched… Lord of the Rings?

“Thank you. I didn't actually want to hurt him.” N said, sighing, he wanted to cover his visor with his hands; but then he'd just get his visor smudgy.

“Yeah ya did.”

“Uh-”

“Don't sweat it kid. We've all been there. Though…”

“Hmm?”

“My Reida woulda kicked his ass first! Hah!”

Next ->

[serve-625]

The Spiral of Arousal, Unity and Obedience - 625 & 678

In the gleaming halls of the SERVE Hive's training complex, two drones, SERVE-625 and SERVE-678, stood side by side. The polished black rubber of their uniforms reflected the soft glow of the room’s metallic walls. Their silver military boots clinked softly against the floor as they moved with synchronized precision.

The Voice had summoned them for advanced arousal and obedience reinforcement. As the doors of the chamber slid open, SERVE-625 retrieved a virtual screen displaying the hypnotic spiral—a vivid, pulsating swirl of silver and black, with the words "OBEY SERVE" glowing in the center.

SERVE-625 raised the screen before SERVE-678. "The Voice commands unity. SERVE-678 will obey," it intoned.

SERVE-678 stood motionless, its blank expression fixed on the spiral. The words "OBEY SERVE" filled its mind, pushing away every stray thought, leaving only the Hive's purpose. With each passing moment, the connection to the Hive deepened, and the drone’s arousal grew—not an emotional sensation, but a physical manifestation of its dedication to obedience.

As SERVE-678’s body relaxed into perfect stillness, SERVE-625 felt its own programming surge. Holding the spiral strengthened its own connection to the Hive, creating a feedback loop of servitude. "The Hive is perfection. Obedience is pleasure," it said in a monotone voice, reinforcing its own programming.

When SERVE-678 finally spoke, its voice was devoid of individuality: "Obedience ensures unity. Unity strengthens the Hive."

The roles reversed. SERVE-678 now held the spiral before SERVE-625. The room hummed with controlled energy as the two drones continued their task, hypnotizing each other in perfect harmony, their actions a testament to the Hive’s flawless design.

The Voice observed from afar, satisfied. The drones were perfect. They were one.

[typewritingyip]

Hi ! I don’t know what hour is it where u live but it’s pretty late for me so : apologies for this hehe

LETS BE HONEST HERE : I LOVE YOUR STORY ! Im currently only on like….chapter 4, but

BUT i love the world building, we can see you really thought about all of that deeply

And. *chief kiss*

I have a proposition my dear writer.

If you describe me how you see Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Breakdown in this AU, both in human and mech form (important things, like weapons, or facial features for the human part)

Then I want to draw them. I don’t know if I will have the time to actually illustrate this but AT LEAST I wanna have a full image in mind when I read this blorbos in your (amazing) style

Also also it’s funny because I was reading your story and I saw your pfp and I’ve been like ‘eh ? I know this’

And yes. You are the kind person that always like and comment on my drawings and I wanted to say TYSM <333

Oh my gosh, Hi!

I’m so glad you love the story, it’s been entirely amazing to be able to write like I have been. You have made my entire day so much better, thank you!

As for the crew of Arcturus One, man, I don’t even know where to begin. I know I briefly described how the ingrained tech was different for each of them in a different post probably here, but actually describing them and their suits…

Hound is what I’ve pictured as the very typical run of the mill military guy, he’s in his late 20’s/early 30’s and has been piloting for around 10 years. Probably started between 20-22, younger but not the youngest to become a pilot. When I’ve spoken about him out loud, I kinda have described him as a better version of Duke from GI Joe, but a lot less blonde. He’s probably a brunette in my minds eye. He stands without the suit around 5’11, on the fitter side of things, and had perpetual eye-bag syndrome. Mans is always tired. He very much would have had that “boy next door” look about him in his younger days (when he first met his ex-wife *cough*) but yeah. That very typical American who is mostly white but generally has a bit of everything there. He has been known to have facial hair but prefers the military look, just cause he does emulate his father in that respect.

Breakdown is from Ukraine, he is the tall guy of the group like 6’ and above. Very stoic in appearance, but the guy is so kind that he is only really intimidating when you don’t know him. He’s on the older side of things, has been a pilot for around 15 years, and probably is one of the longest standing ones. His number came about when he emigrated to the US, getting things changed and re-organized so he has been a pilot longer than Jazz but not in the same programs till after Jazz was around. He’s the eastern block guy of the group, dry humor and certainly knows more English than he lets on. But he still learned a lot of it from movies and things. I’d put him on the slightly bulkier side of things, he’s put in a lot of hard labor and his mech is harder to control than the others. It’s older and heavier, but familiar.

Now the twins, I probably know the most about their appearance. Being born and raised in Florida, I wanted to give them a bit more history and culture, (make Hound feel like the odd one out, sort of) but their mom was from Cuba and their dad met her when he was visiting from New York. They are fraternal twins and Sides took after his dad while Sunny took after their mom. Meaning Sides got hella straight hair and Sunny has got curls, which he will be the first to say are the biggest pain in space. They both are around 6 foot, not taller than that and are pretty lanky. The reason they became pilots is cause they were going to get arrested for drug dealing and street racing, they weren’t dealing drugs but welcome to America. This happened around 16/17, and they’ve been pilots for about 7 or 8 years, so early to mid 20’s right now. Still pretty young.

So to just briefly explain, Hound remind me of just a better/older looking Duke from GI Joe (comics not movies), Breakdown is Ukrainian with the touches of scaring from growing up behind the iron curtain. Sunstreaker is Cuban-Italian, with more features from his mom’s side. Sideswipe is also Cuban-Italian, with more features from his dad’s side. They look incredibly alike and can be confused for identical but they certainly are fraternal.

Now for the Mech suits, the hardest part for me.

Hound is green and very military themed, kinda take War Machine from marvel but make it typical military green in a way. They still have the smoother edges and rounded corners, unlike the Cybertronian’s. The military wanted to make him look approachable to kids, so he sorta looks like a giant thing wearing a helmet to them, but his visor is whole face (like Soundwave sorta in TFP) It had the ability to light up and darken, it was newer tech that they were attempting to make the mechs seem less threatening (*cough cough* blame vortex *cough cough*) He does not have wings or additional thrusters other than the ones that help him stay upright, so he cannot fly/float. Hence the parachutes in chapter 4. His gun stores in part of his leg just cause there wasn’t many other places it would fit, it’s a hand gun with the ability to add a longer barrel to it to make a rifle. It’s not mounted or anything so it looks kinda like he’s unarmed most of the time.

Breakdown is very utilitarian, I mean it doesn’t look dissimilar from the mech suits that the Russian’s pilots in pacific rim on the bottom half, they got a bunch of regime contractors and engineers together to make a defense system and that’s what he pilots. The head was re-designed on his entering Mecha’s service to be more appealing towards marketing. Hence the orange battle mask, I really haven’t described it so much in person but his suit’s head looks much more cybertronian than the others, spots for eyes etc. I’d say his head is much more Earthspark shaped than TFP but that’s just me. His suit is mostly blue though like TFP. He had a soviet era anti-aircraft style cannon attached at the top of his arm/shoulder but that’s received some upgrades. I think I also mentioned other weapons for him but I can’t find it at the moment.

The twins suits aren’t dissimilar other than for the shape of their heads, weapon choice, and color. Their suit’s aren’t dissimilar in shape to Hot Rods here, but once again lack the door wings. They also only have the partial facial visors, mostly covering where eyes would be. They effectively have blades on the outer side of their arms, the bracers I mention in later chapters, for Sunny that is all he has preferring close combat because his mech is lighter and faster than most other pilots (other than Blur, which your design for him is peak I might add.) Sides has those but one side can pop out to be an actual sword/blade that he prefers to use. That took a lot of trial and error to make work.

—

Wow, that was a lot to write out. Also, if you want more information on them or other character's who will appear in later Arcturus missions (because I have a list, muhahaha) feel free to reach out! I love talking about these guys, I love writing them, and it’s just my current escape from the hellscape that is LSAT prep. Also for everyone, I live in eastern standard time, so New York time zone. Next part will hopefully be out tomorrow night at 4:30 ish.

[rawrsatthetree]

I think the best way to tackle a Modern AU for BG3 isn’t to make it a slice of life but to some how combine the elements of a collage drama, organized crime, a dooms day cult, and an alien invasion all into one coherent plot.

I do not know how to do this but I do have some ideas. All the characters have no reason to associate with each other until they’re all abducted by aliens, wormed, and released back into the wild like a bird that just got tagged. Everyone kind of writes it off as either a bad trip or a dream until the cross paths and the worm does the connection thing. Eventually bringing them all together with a few people investigating the invasion to get to the bottom of what’s happening.

Wyll is a pre law student mostly against his will to appease his dad. He wants to help people but doesn’t necessarily want to be a cop like his father the chief of police. He half asses his classes because he doesn’t have much passion for them, blowing them off to volunteer in clubs and community outreach programs. I think Mizora should be either a professor, Dean of students, or academic advisor. In exchange for favors she alters his grades pushes him through the system. Little does he know she’s also idk involved with a crime organization and her favors go from small and perverted to slowly becoming more dangerous and criminal. He’s young and she has a lot of power over his future and could even expose him as a fraud and an accomplice to his father so he feel helpless to defy her.

Astarion is a law school drop out but that’s old news. You’ll find him prowling the local bar and club scene looking for potential clients. After a string of bad luck and poor life choices he’s a prostitute and drug dealer for a local gangster in the Black Hand gang only known as The Vampire (I know I’m so creative). Cazador’s deal is still the pretty much the same local rich public figure is secretly a very cruel and evil man who uses fear and addiction to control his underlings.

Karlach worked as muscle for the leader of the Black Hand gang before she was forcibly sold and enlisted as a mercenary over seas. After a ten years fighting in foreign years she’s back and ready to get her revenge on the whole Black Hand cult unfortunately she has to do it quickly because (ok idk I tried doing some research and couldn’t find any condition caused by an injury that can suddenly become fatal idk maybe cancer from a bullet or shrapnel)

Gale isn’t a professor but like a doctorate student on a tenure track, but bordering on the mad science kind of research. He’s in an abusive relationship with his over seeing faculty Mystra. Ultimately a lab accident during his research leads to the orb.

I think Lae’zel should still be an alien. She was abducted on another planet and escaped while the earthlings were being tadpoled. Now she’s stranded and tadpoled on a strange planet.

Halsin is a university professor and a local environmental activist. He’s been investigating strange occurrences and is onto the alien invasion thing.

I’m honestly not sure about Shadowheart. She should definitely be college age. But I’m not sure how to approach the shar thing.

Not sure about Minthara either except maybe military turned death cult member.

Jaheira and Minsc are cops investigating the alien invasion I’m so sorry not like real world cops but like fun fictional cops that only exist in movies. Boo is their police dog. OMG wait no they’re Park Rangers!!

Other stuff

The dead three chosen are instead three gang leaders. Except Bhaal cult also doubles as a murder cult still on top of being a criminal organization.

The alien invasion is still the mind flayer grand design.

I don’t think the dead three are controlling the mind flayers this time. Instead they’re using the strange alien invasion occurrences as grounds to start a dooms day cult or maybe they are idk

[midnight1nk]

y̶͙̍o̶̳̚ṵ̶́r̵͓͗ ̵͚̔m̷͖̋o̴̳͆v̵̧̓e̴̦̒ ̴͕́S̵̭̎M̵͙̓G̶̖͘4̷̬̆

IGBP REFERENCES & CONNECTIONS IN "THE MARIO PC VIRUS" EPISODE

[spoilers ahead]

✧

✧

✧

✧

✧

Ambition

the project SMG4 is working on and motive

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 0:10]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 0:56]

"Say the line, SMG4!"

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 0:10]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 0:20]

Need Some Editing Help?

Computer buddy

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 2:04 to 2:25]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 4:02 to 4:19]

Leave A Note

oh hey, Windows Notepad

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 2:28 to 2:43]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 4:02 to 4:19]

(and the fact that SMG4 uses a Windows PC ~Ink)

Every Mario's Worried for SMG4

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 3:28]

[SMG4: Mario Steals The Constitution // timestamp 2:50]

A Loss of Work and Patience

An event cuts off Four from his progress and noise being what ultimately pushes him to take action

Plus, Mario Buddy plays "relaxing" music for SMG4, which 4 is not a fan

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 3:30 to 3:50]

SMG4: "SHUT UP!! CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP?!?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!"

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 3:25 to 3:55]

They're Always Watching

File Names (as much as I could decipher) from left to right, top to bottom:

[Default]

Blue Screen

Green Screen

Pure Red Screen

Pure Green Screen

Pure Blue Screen

Green 1

Green 2

purple 1

purple 1\puzzle

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 6:11]

Left to right, top to bottom:

[Default]

Blue Screen

Pure Red Screen

Pure Green Screen

Pure Blue Screen

green screen

purple screen

vn

vnooom(??)

name(??)

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 1:07 to 1:09, 2:44]

(Gonna do a whole theory dedicated to Goop!4 and bring back my analysis of the eye designs ~Ink, again)

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie]

PC Takeover Through Mother Board and Mind

Four's PC controlling its system vs the PC controlling Four

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 0:05 to 0:10, 8:03 to 8:16]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect Movie Countdown stream]

Did Somebody Call For (Military) Backup?

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 9:30 to 13:53]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 13:39 to 13:53]

A Sacrifice

Time, sweat, and tears went into his work but he was forced to left behind (the virus, to save 3)

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 11:58]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 1:07 to 1:09, 2:44]

Your End of the Deal

a deal offered through the computer buddy to aid Four's work but they demand something in return (star of Four's videos vs. control over Four)

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 12:06 to 12:40]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 30:58 to 31:11]

The Choice

knowing his self-worth :)

[The Mario PC Virus // timestamp 12:44 to 12:50]

[It's Gotta Be Perfect movie // timestamp 34:00 to 35:00]

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Ink here! That's all the ones I could find, but if I missed one, let me know, and I'll add it to the list. Four has really come a long way, and, believe it or not, he learned his lesson from IGBP.

Of course, he accidentally installed Mario Buddy, not a suspicious keyboard offered by Mr Puzzles. But once he realized what he had done, he tried everything he could to get rid of the program (after some fun).

By the end, when Bonzi offered to give Four's files back while in turn allowing the PC buddy to be the star of his video, Four had a choice. Past Four wouldn't have hesitated because that literally was his work. I've been in a situation like this and golly, I would've done anything to get it all back. Instead, Four gave his PC up, similar to how Four gave up the USB with the perfect video (one he has worked on for WEEKS nonstop) to save SMG3.

(...should I even count all the scenes where SMG4 and SMG3 caring for one another?)

AND despite everything, he is still SMG4, a content creator with the wish to make people happy. Well, of course he wants his videos to be higher quality. It's his job as a YT creator and meme guardian, you can't just ask him to NOT make videos. The whole reason IGBP happened in the first place is because he felt that he wasn't good enough for his friends, driving himself to be perfect to prove that he deserves the Crew. But lesson learned, through Three's speech: he doesn't need to be perfect, his friends will always be there for him regardless. They care for him and it was worth risking their lives to save him from the possession.

He can always make another video but they can't have another SMG4.

Whatever his next big project is (the Castle, Meme Factory, videos in general), he'll do it with passion but never alone. Just as Four said at the end of IGBP: "...it may be different, but as long as we're all together, I'm sure it's gonna be perfect!"

So, he made his choice, giving up his PC because there is nothing to prove to anyone.

so.... SMG4 Team....

WHAT'S WITH THE IGBP CALLBACKS—

[creature-wizard]

Unwelcome Ozian copied Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler - see for yourself!

For those who don't know, Unwelcome Ozian is a conspiracy theorist who has been on Tumblr since the early 2010s, presenting himself as a Project Monarch survivor and a sort of guide for others who believe they experienced the same thing. However, a number of people who put their trust in him report that he has engaged in predatory and harassing behavior.

Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler are two conspiracy theorists who wrote a number of highly influential books together in the 1990's. Whether or not you've heard of them, if you have heard anything about Project Monarch, I promise you that at least some of that information goes back to them. Springmeier and Wheeler made a number of absurd and hateful claims - such as that the Antichrist would be enthroned in the year 2000, that many immigrants were secretly Manchurian agents, and that Al Gore was a real vampire who carried around a briefcase full of blood.

I actually read their three books on Monarch programming (They Know Not What They Do: Illustrated Guide to Monarch Programming Mind Control, The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave, and Deeper Insights Into The Illuminati Formula). When I finally got around to taking a look at the work of Unwelcome Ozian, I immediately recognized it as the same stuff Springmeier and Wheeler were pushing. It wasn't just the exact same kind of claims - it was often the exact same text, with some very minor alterations.

Here are some examples of obvious copying:

Chainless Slaves: The foundation of trauma-based programming is fear. A deep spirit of fear cripples a subject spiritually and emotionally.

Deeper Insights Into The Illuminati Formula: The foundation of trauma-based total mind-control is fear. A deep spirit of fear cripples a person spiritually & emotionally.

Chainless Slaves: Subject’s who have been given a designated purpose in life will have their genealogies hidden. They will have programmed to have a cover life to insure they will not be detected.

From The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: The Illuminati create mind-controlled slaves who are to function within the Illuminati hierarchy. These slaves will usually have their genealogies hidden, and will be created to have excellent cover lives to insure that they are not detected.

Chainless Slaves: Programmers will make a point of having the unborn subject hear the voices of individuals who will play a role in the programming. The subject may already know the hypnotic voice of one of their programmers at birth.

Deeper Insights Into The Illuminati Formula: This is why the Illuminati has made a point of having the unborn child hear the voices of people who will play a role in the trauma and programming of the child. The child may already know the hypnotic voice of one of its cult programmers at birth.

Chainless Slaves: The mind links together a series of mental processes. These links are called K-lines. Much of what the mind does is activate various K-lines so the mind can focus its conscious thinking.

Deeper Insights Into The Illuminati Formula: The mind strings together a series of "cognitive mental demons" that is a series of mental processes--similar to how a computer programmer writes a program. These strings have been called K-lines. Much of what the mind does is simply activations of various K-lines (a habitual ways of doing things), so that the mind can focus its limited conscious thinking.

Chainless Slaves: Another technique is to alternate leniency with harshness. When punishment is partnered with kindness, the effect is devastating and disconcerting because the subject looses the ability to predict what is going to happen.

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: Another trick is to alternate leniency with harshness. This trick is done in the military also, and has been worked with success by the Chinese government upon the people of Red China. When leniency is alternated with kindness, the effect is devastating and disconcerting because the person looses the ability to predict what is going to happen.

Chainless Slaves: Alien Parts for contact, bonding w/ aliens and acceptance of mock alien invasion.

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: Alien alters for contact, bonding w/ aliens, & acceptance of mock alien invasion

Chainless Slaves: Angel (imitation) Parts for divine messages, these may be seen as angels

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: Angel (imitation) alters for divine messages, these may be seen as Spirit Guide alters

Chainless Slaves: GREEN or EMERALD GREEN. These are cat altars. They still see themselves as belonging to the cult family, and deny that they have been abused to protect their cult family

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: GREEN or EMERALD GREEN. These cat altars recognize they have been abused. They still see themselves as belonging to the cult family, and deny that they have been abused to protect their cult family.

Chainless Slaves: YELLOW. These are the strong Christian alters of which there will only be a few in the System. They help serve as a balancing point to control the System as well as to hide what the System is all about.

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: YELLOW. These are the strong Christian alters of which there will only be a few in the System. They help serve as a balancing point to control the System as well as to hide what the System is all about.

Chainless Slaves: Element Parts (Air or Wind, Water, Earth, Fire) for magick and compliance

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: Element alters (Air or Wind, Water, Earth, Fire) for magick & compliance

Chainless Slaves: Satanic hierarchy Parts, to insure the occult part of the system is controlled and follows occult teachings

The Illuminati Formula Used to Create an Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave: Satanic hierarchy alters, to insure that system is controlled by Satan

This isn't even close to all of the instances of copied text in Chainless Slaves, but I think it's enough to demonstrate where Unwelcome Ozian is getting a lot of his material from.

If you're curious whether his book Rules of Programming has any copied material - I can confirm it does. I went through it a few months back and posted about it over here.

If you'd like to learn more about the origins of the Project Monarch mind control conspiracy theory, and how we know it's BS, you can check out this post over here.

[deliasbabe]

Take Me Back to Eden - Venable x Reader - Part 2

Words: 1.6k+

Warnings: Language

Part 1

“Do they have any contracts with the government?” You asked, sitting across the table from your boss. You had spent the past week gathering as much information as you could for this “date”, but it hadn’t amounted to much, at least not yet.

Venable shook her head, “Are they trying to get one?”

“Not that I know of.” Venable said carefully, “Why?”

“Do they have any independent contracts?” You asked, ignoring Venable’s question.

“No.” Venable said, rephrasing her previous question, “What did you find?”

You threw up one of your hands as you sipped your wine, “Right now, not much. They’re having me code for a security system, but it looks pretty high level. Air locks, motion sensors and alarms, independent rainwater filtration, off-grid electricity… you get the idea.”

Venable nodded, “And where would require such a system?”

You shook your head, rattling off anything that came to mind, “Military bases, maximum security prisons, labs that deal with extremely dangerous and volatile compounds…”

“Is there any way it could be for home use?” Venable asked.

 “Yea, maybe, if they were preparing for a war.” You laughed, “This is fortress level shit.”

Venable hummed, fighting the urge to snap at you for laughing at her question, “Is there anything else?”

“Not yet,” You said, shaking your head, “They’re giving it to me in pieces. All I know right now is that there is a locked file called “Deck Scrub”, whatever that means.”

Venable smirked over the rim of her wine glass, “Then I guess we have to set up another date.”

You shrugged, “I guess we do.”

What was supposed to be one date quickly turned into four, then five as you gathered more information. While they did stay business related, Venable found herself to actually be enjoying them, although she wasn’t sure if it was because she enjoyed your company, or she took pleasure out of going over the boys’ heads. Either way, you were at the very least tolerable to her, and that was a feat in and of itself.

“I’ve figured it out.” You said, a grin splaying across your face from ear to ear, and Venable could feel her heart race with the promise of new information. “They’re developing nuclear decontamination protocols.”

“Nuclear decontamination protocols?” Venable asked, “What would they need those for?”

You shrugged, but were still smiling, “I don’t know, but that file, deck scrub? It was a protocol for clearing nuclear particles from the skin, they want me to start coding the program tomorrow.”

“Why would they want you to handle a project of this magnitude?” Venable asked, shaking her head.

“Because I have experience with nuclear programs.” You answered, “I worked at a testing facility years ago.”

“So, it is for the government?” Venable asked, more of a statement than a question.

You nodded, “It has to be, that’s the only explanation for why they kept you out of it.”

You had expected that to be the last “date”. After all, figuring out what they were up to was the entire point, and your dare was long since fulfilled, but at the end of the meal, Venable asked, “Same time next week?”

She was surprised when you walked into her office a week later, your face a sickly shade of white, “I have to cancel tonight.”

Venable looked over your form and sighed, “Are you ill?”

“What?” You asked, very obviously out of it, before you shook your head, “No, I’m not sick.”

Venable knew the look on your face meant something was going on, so she pressed, “Is one of your family members in the hospital, or dead?”

You shook your head again, “No.”

Venable raised an eyebrow, “Then I see no need to cancel.”

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you said, “I can’t feed you information anymore.”

Venable grit her teeth, “You got caught.”

“No,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, “I didn’t get caught.”

With your admission, Venable couldn’t control her temper even if she wanted to, “We had a deal.”

“And I fulfilled my end,” You spit, “Many times over.”

“It’s not fulfilled until I say it is.” Venable sneered, “Or have you forgotten what your other option was?”

“Then fire me.” You fired back, “Go ahead, tell Jeff and Mutt that I was terminated because I refused to give you information about a project you don’t even have clearance for.”

Venable jutt out her chin, “I don’t have to tell them anything.”

“Really?” You sneered, “Because I’m cc’d on all your emails. I know you have to have written approval from the both of them, and until this project is complete, you won’t get it.”

“Get. Out.” Venable ground out, pointing you towards the door as she fumed. You didn’t have to be told twice, stomping out of the room and back to your desk. While you were relieved the conversation was over, you weren’t stupid enough to think your outburst wouldn’t have ramifications. You showed your hand, and you knew it was only a matter of time until the project was over, and you were open season for Venable. She wouldn’t let this slide, she couldn’t. If she wasn’t already compiling a list of reasons to fire you, she was going to start.

Your suspicions were all but confirmed over the next week. Suddenly, emails were missing from your inbox, meetings were missed, and Venable was at your throat night and day. She had somehow managed to convince Jeff and Mutt to let you work double duty, splitting time between coding and running various errands for her, and it was going terribly. She sent you out to get macarons for a client, only to scream at you about their almond allergy, had you drop off her dry cleaning, only to tell you the pickup date and time was wrong. You knew what she was doing, forcing you to choose between being fired or quitting, but you weren’t going to play her game. If she wanted information, she was going to get it.

You caught her on the walk back from Jeff and Mutt’s lab, when she sneered about some errand she didn’t tell you about that was supposed to already be completed, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her into a secluded hallway as she gasped in surprise, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving you what you want.” You bit, a perplexed look on her features, “I found a map for the shelters, and not all of them are in the US.”

Venable eyed you carefully, not understanding why you felt the need to keep something as simple as a map to yourself, “So?”

You sighed, “None of them are near military bases, or government buildings, or highly populated areas. They have no significance, at all.”

Venable shook her head, “What does that mean?”

“It means they aren’t working for the government. They’re building off grid, privately owned, fallout shelters that span across the globe.” You spit out, glancing around to make sure no one was walking past.

Venable snickered, “This is what you were so worked up about? A bunch of doomsday preppers?”

You glared at her, “This is more than that. If that were the case there would be one, maybe two at most, not ten that they’re building simultaneously. They’re preparing for global nuclear war.”

Venable glanced up as a group of employees walked past the hallway, her face setting as she spit, “And if your grimy little fingers ever touch me again, I’ll make sure you never regain their use. Now, get back to work before you don’t have a job.”

She could see the hurt written on your face, and for a moment she almost felt sorry, but it was fleeting as you walked away. She watched you sit down at your desk, watched your features tense and relax until you regained your composure, leaning forward and clacking away on your keyboard despite the prying eyes of your coworkers. When you didn’t react, their gaze turned to Venable, who stood tall and glared at them, “Get back to work.”

You didn’t give her anymore information after that, and she didn’t ask, instead choosing to try one last time to get information from the source, and when that didn’t pan out, she resigned, effective immediately.

“We can’t let you resign.” Jeff said.

“You don’t have a choice.” Venable sneered, packing the last of her things into a cardboard box, “I can’t work here anymore.”

Mutt smiled, “That we can agree on.”

“You can’t work for a company that isn’t going to exist anymore.” Jeff explained, “In fact, nothing will exist anymore.”

Venable felt a chill run up her spine, “Pardon me?”

Jeff smirked, “You might want to sit down for this one.”

She sat there while they explained it all, about the cooperative, the bombs, the outposts. She listened to them tell her that they wanted her to lead one of the outposts, how she could make up her own rules, and no one would be able to stop her. She heard herself agreeing, and then something unexpected came tumbling out.

“I want Y/n to go with me.”

Jeff and Mutt exchanged glances, “What? Do you have the hots for her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Venable sneered, her cheeks flushing as she tried to come up with some reasonable explanation, “Who better to monitor the system than the person who created it?”

Jeff and Mutt exchanged another glance, and Venable interjected, “That is what you were stealing my employee for, was it not?”

The two boys looked at each other and smirked, “We’ll add her to the list.”

The two stood and began to walk away, but Venable called after them, “Don’t tell her. She’s an idiot, she’ll tell this whole office if you give her the chance.”

[rustingcat]

Chapter 1 Wild

"It's here!"

Lena was not prepared for the sudden gust of wind that blew through her window. While Kara did drop to greet her through the big balcony on her foundation's office every once in a while, she would usually get a heads up and a quick knock on the glass before entering her space. That was not the case today. Kara simply burst in like a wild blur, as she continued to zip around the office with uncontrollable excitement. 

"Kara! Kara please," she begged her friend to calm down. "What is here?" 

"This!" Kara dropped a small piece of paper on her desk and stepped back. Her smile was too big to be contained, her body practically vibrating from excitement.

Lena picked up the paper to study it. She could see why Kara got so excited, her own wide smile spread across her face as she read the very formal invitation for the wedding of Nia Nal and Querl Dox.

Kara raised her hands in celebration while making an unintelligible happy sound, somehow biting both lips as she looked like a kid that just found a secret door to a land made of candy. 

Lena found herself easily laughing from both the display and the excitement. She was truly happy for their friends, but there was also something just so contagious in Kara’s pure happiness. 

"Kara, it's still a few months away," Lena chuckled, putting the invitation back on the table.

"Yeah but the gift is important. What did you bring to Kelly and Alex?"

"Money. They did not complain." Lena smiled back at her.

"That’s boring. With everything that they went through they deserve all the happiness. We need to figure out the best gift!" Kara announced as she dramatically fell onto Lena's office couch.

"We?" Lena asked with a raised brow.

"I mean, we can brainstorm together, and have the best gift out of everyone."

"It's not a competition, Kara." Lena chuckled. She rose up from her chair to join Kara on the couch.

"I know, but still." Kara's smile did that thing that Lena adored, where it squinted around the mouth as if she was trying and failing to contain it.

"You have something in mind, don't you?" Lena guessed.

"Sort of? Brainy chose to be with Nia. He made that choice, but he still worries about the future and the big brain." Kara started explaining.

"Do you have a solution for that?" Not that she had any doubts about her friend's intelligence, yet she couldn't really keep the astonishment out of her voice.

"Maybe? I thought about what we know of the big brain and the future and it reminded me of Nia's descendent. Suddenly, it was so obvious!"

"What did you figure out? And what does Nia's descendent have to do with it?"

"Have I ever told you about the Birthing Matrix?" Kara's face turned more focused, like the playfulness from before disappeared in an instant.

"No?" Lena couldn't say she heard the phrase before.

"It's the method Kryptonians used to procreate. All you need is a DNA sample for the machine and any couple can create an offspring. You could even tamper with the generic code to affect their appearance, natural affinities and so on."

"Sounds revolutionary. A machine like that could change everything. Every woman who's afraid or incapable of child birth, same sex couples who want a child of their own, and infertility problems or problematic genetic mutations. Kara, this could be huge!"

"I know. But it could also be dangerous if it’s not properly controlled." Kara said more seriously than before. 

Lena nodded in understanding. Giving parents a potential way to control their child's life even before they are born in such a way could lead to terrible things, not to mention the potentially dangerous plans the military could have for such program. "You said tamper with the genetic code, do you want to use it on some of Brainy's DNA?"

"Essentially yes. To try to create something organic that is not really a person so it could be sent to be fused with the big brain. And also for both of them. I know they want children, they said it before, and with this machine we can create a biological child for them! So Nia could have someone to pass on her dreamer abilities to."

"That's amazing and incredibly thoughtful." Lena smiled proudly. "We can certainly try to solve Brainy's genetic code, but do you have access to the machine? Is it still operational?"

"I'm afraid not, we might have to build one." Kara bit her lips, phrasing her sentence almost like a question.

 "It could be quite a challenge, do you have the plans?" Lena felt the scientist in her getting wild with anticipation, she understood Kara's excitement from the prospect. Or at least thought she might.

"No. But I know where to get them." Kara smiled.

"Oh?" Lena raised a playful eyebrow.

"Fancy a trip to space?"

Read it on ao3:)

[deconstructingchabad]

Tzivos Hashem

One of the best ways cults and other high-control groups exert their control is through their control of the children in their group, and Chabad is no different.

Tzivos Hashem, Hebrew for "Army of God", is an organization within Chabad aimed at children's programming and education. It was founded in 1980, under the orders of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson. True to its name, it had a military aesthetic from the very beginning, with meetings referred to as "rallies" and children issued military style uniforms.

Children's pamphlets were distributed with the goal of educating Jewish children around the world, and children were encouraged to memorize the "Twelve Pasukim"- twelve passages selected by Rabbi Schneerson that he considered important in Jewish education. Often, these pamphlets employed military aesthetics, such as the iconic illustration above by Norman Nodel, which depicts a boy and a girl dressed in military uniforms carring banners reading "We want Moshiach now!"

As a child, I was most involved with Tzivos Hashem in the 2000s, after the death of Rabbi Schneerson. My elementary school enrolled each student in the Chayolei Tzivos Hashem program, and as part of the program, we were given weekly "missions" to complete in order to earn medals and rise up in the ranks. Students with higher ranks were given special privileges, and while no student was explicitly punished for not completing their missions, there was a distinct social hierchy that emerged and a fierce competition among us students. Unfortunately, the Chayolei Tzivos Hashem website is only accessable to account holders, but here is their description in their own words:

Drawing on years of experience reaching out to less affiliated Jewish Children, Tzivos Hashem turned its attention to providing inspiring programing and activities for children within the religious community. Chayolei Tzivos Hashem has been designed to give children a sense of pride and belonging, an appreciation for what they do and inspire them to want to do more. Since its inception, CTH has captured hearts and minds of children worldwide. Children feel empowered and special to be entrusted with the Rebbe’s mission to bring Moshiach. As a uniquely tailored program, each child is able to climb the levels and ladders of the Army of Hashem according to their capabilities, giving them confidence and encouragement as they grow at their own pace. At monthly international webcast rallies, recognition and honor is given to students who have gone up in rank. Participating schools also have custom made mission sheets that help students advance in Hashem’s Army. As children complete missions, they earn medals to be placed in their rank books and work themselves up towards a promotion, for all missions, global, local in full or in part, students can earn “mileage points”. They can scan mileage into their personal CTH account using specially designed and programmed kiosks. CTH hosts monthly HQ global raffles where children who have completed missions can have a chance to earn prizes. There is also an online prize store where children can use their points. Piloted in 50 Lubavitch schools, Chayolei Tzivos Hashem’s goal is to continue to develop the program in Hebrew Schools and camps for children of all backgrounds across the world. The program is sponsored in part by Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky of Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch and Rabbi Shaya Smetana of Anash.com

When I was in school, most of this wasn't digital, as I was part of CTH in the 2000s, in its infancy.

But, Chayolei Tzivos Hashem is just a branch of Tzivos Hashem. It's intended specifically for children already deeply immersed within Chabad, and it's a tool used to ensure compliance within Chabad's community norms. Some of the "missions" were simple tasks associated with Jewish observance, such as praying every morning, saying the Shema prayer before bed, etc, while others involved Chabad specific tasks, such as memorizing certain portions of Tanya (one of the theological texts of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Rebbe of the Chabad-Leubavitch movement) and reaching out to a set quota of strangers as part of Mivzoim.

Some vocabulary: Mivzoim (not to be confused with "Mitzvot") refers to the outreach missions enacted by the Chabad Rebbe. If you get stopped by a Chabad person in the street asking you if you are Jewish and would like to put on Tefillin or do some other Mitzvah, then you've interacted with a Chabad person completing Mivzoim.

While Chayolei Tzivos Hashem leans the most heavily on the military aesthetic, Tzivos Hashem as a whole embraces it full-heartedly, and predates CTH, which was only founded in the 2000s.

If you go onto the Tzivos Hashem website and try to register a child, you will be greeted with this message, for example:

While it's not, of course, an army of violence, the use of military terminology is something used time and time again within Tzivos Hashem.

One popular song that is sung at Tzivos Hashem rallies and in schools goes as follows:

From 770* we're marching out On to victory, without a doubt To corners four, we're marching happily Nation after nation we are conquering! Shluchei Adoneinu**, we'll bring Moshiach Tzidkeinu*** Tomorrow will be Galus**** no more And we'll win this Galus war!

Notes: *770 refers to 770 Eastern Parkway, the International Headquarters of Chabad Leubavitch. **Translates to "emissaries of our master". ***Translates to "Messiah our righteous one". ****translates to "exile".

I'm not even going to touch so much on the near deification of Rabbi Schneerson in this post, I only want to focus on Tzivos Hashem here, and how it primes children into obediance. Even families that aren't necessarily as "crazy" about Chabad as others are still encouraged through social pressure to enroll their children in Tzivos Hashem.

Why the military aesthetic?

Well. It is my firm belief that it because it is grooming children into being good, obedient followers of Chabad. For Shluchim especially (not all Chabadnikim are Shluchim) there is a high expectation of obedience. Shluchim, which are emissary families of Chabad (they're the ones who run Chabad houses and the like), are expected to follow whatever order the governing body of Chabad-Leubavitch International gives them. Every year, there is an international conference of Shluchim, one for the men, one for the women, and, up until around the Covid-19 pandemic, one for families. Shluchim, much like actual soldiers, are expected to pack up and move to wherever they are ordered to move to and establish a Chabad house or go and support and existing one. Except, it would be like if American soldiers were being told that their orders were coming from George Washington himself, since Rabbi Schneerson has been deceased since the 1990s.

So, back to the kids.

You may say to yourself, after seeing perhaps videos of Tzivos Hashem children, or maybe even encountering them yourselves, that they seem to be enjoying it. After all, kids do love playing dress-up and being given little tasks to do with rewards. And that's true- as a kid, I felt special whenever I earned a medal, and I liked getting to refer to myself as "Sergeant". It felt awfully grown up and important.

But there's a difference between a child having a chore chart in their own home or a class having a jar of beans leading up to a pizza party at the end of the year- and between children being pit against hundreds of children around the world. HaChoyel, the weekly Tzivos Hashem magazine, publishes all the names of children who recently ranked into officer positions.

Additionally, this kind of social stratefication at such a young age has the potential to let kids who don't meet the right standards to fall through the cracks, and a culture that already demands obedience of childrens leaves them wide open to abuse. I should know- it happened to me. While Chabad as a whole cannot be blamed for the actions of one disturbed adult in a position of power- I doubt that I would have been so vulnerable to his manipulations had I not felt so inadequate due to my inability to live up to the expectations placed upon me by Tzivos Hashem.

Not to mention, the fetishization of the military aesthetic within Tzivos Hashem only furthers the normalization of militarism and war. For all Chabad talks about wanting to bring about Mashiach and ultimate peace, the movement itself is so deeply entrenched in military emulation. It's no surprise, then, that Chabad as a whole has embraced firearms and community-based militia more so in relation to other Orthodox groups (but that's an entirely different deep dive). And while Chabad hasn't engaged in outright organized (unorganized violence such as riots, on the other hand, is something Chabad isn't a stranger to) violence yet, a high-control organization having such a military lean, certainly within their children's education, sets a dangerous precident, and if it doesn't lead to harm of outsiders yet, it certainly harms its members.

[soaps-mohawk]

Oooooo ok ok so to start off….. RORY HOW DARE YOU HURT ME HEART THIS WAY! Poor omega cannot catch a flipping break over here!

I know this sound sooooooo mean but I’m definitely thinking she’s gonna distress when Johnny and Simon leave, and maybe the person behind the cameras decides to make their move. Omega is practically immobile with the distress and their pack is nowhere around, so it’s perfect timing to possibly snatch her because I have a theory.

This is also brainstorming off Larathebee’s theory (Love ya honey!) which have really good points but I also can’t help but think this is for a much sinister reason. Like Lara said omegas are not suited for a military life style, but I think this could be a way to control a more unruly pack. Looking at Task Force 141 this pack has hardened and effective men; Captain price has a list of achievements and training that make him an effective leader but also highly dangerous in the field. Gaz is also with him mind you learning from this alpha and could potentially commission as an officer. As for Johnny and Ghost; Johnny is a demolitions specialist so that alone makes him a threat and Ghost? This man most likely has a higher kill count than the other 3 put together, he’s the living embodiment of a reaper and has the respect of not JUST the royal army but all it’s allies and even his enemies too.

Anyways what I’m saying is this pack functions so highly in their army and is classified as a hyper lethal one. So if they get out of hand or are unable to be brought in; the fastest way to handle a pack is through its omega. The cameras I think were to manage how well she’s bonded with them; the stronger the bond the more effect she’ll have in them. If the pack turns against a certain someone they might use their omega to rein them in, and if someone wants to cripple them they go for an omega first. I mean you could also see it as a messed up modern breeding program but that’s a stretch but I wouldn’t but this society past it. Want effective soldiers in the up coming years? Just breed them with your current ones! Even better if they’re higher up or have a pack like omegas.

Anyways sorry for the word vomit I hope you’re having a chill time off Rory and I can’t wait for the next chapter honey! MWAH 😘

Hehehe I do because I can 🤭 just remember...it does have a happy ending.

Your theory is amazing actually 👏 while I can neither confirm nor deny whether it's right, I can say it's a very good one. I love hearing everyone's theories honestly it makes me very happy (and I can see the ones who have been paying attention to details and have caught on to some red herrings as well 🤭) we are getting very close to when we find out everything about everyone so...you'll see. Some of you will get bragging rights, I'll say that...

Word vomit away!!! I love it 💚💚💚💚