#Night Vision Camera Market

[industryarcreport]

Night Vision Camera Market - Forecast(2024 - 2030)

Night- Vision cameras are the cameras which are used to intensify human sight under very low light conditions. These cameras are useful for security purposes, providing security in our home, office or place of business. Having a night vision security camera in proper place enables us to protect our valuable assets by capturing video evidence of theft, break-ins or vandalism. Wireless night vision cameras are very easy to set up and on direct installation to the existing network; these are accessible through our computer or any other Internet capable device. The report study includes the detailed demand analysis of this Night Vision Market on a global and regional scale for a five-year period of 2015-2020, both in terms of volume (Units) and revenue ($billion).

Read More Here:  https://tinyurl.com/d7c3k3ee

The market is evaluated based on the key attributes such as the power in the hands of producers and consumers, analysis on the degree of competition, and threats from substitutes and new entrants. The report also includes segmentation based on type, mounting area, power, resolution, body type and end user applications. Types of night vision cameras include Infrared, Mini, Wireless, Car, Digital, Security and Video night vision cameras. Wireless Night Vision cameras can again be of many types such as Backup, Mini, Motion Detection, Rear View and Waterproof Wireless night vision cameras. The major end user applications of Night Vision Cameras include Military, Law enforcement, wild life observation, hunting, security, surveillance, navigation, entertainment and movie-making.

Request For Sample Click Here : https://tinyurl.com/mv7j9yry

The Night Vision camera market has also been segmented based on geographical region: Americas, Europe, Asia-pacific and Middle-East & Africa. These geographies are further classified into countries holding prominent share in the night vision camera market for the forecast period. Major market revenue share is contributed by the U.S.

Americas is the dominant region for Night Vision Camera market with U.S leading the charge. Europe is projected to have highest growth in the next few years, followed by Asia Pacific regions due to the increasing need of night vision cameras in wartime use.

Among a wide range of manufacturers, major players that contribute to the Night Vision camera market are

Satir Inc.,

Tak Technologies Pvt. Ltd,

PCO S.A.,

Vivotek Inc.,

GeoVision Inc.

We provide profound data about the industry overview, financial overview, business strategies and recent developments.

[desertrosew]

[minkkumaz]

taesan soft thoughts?? indeed!

taesan loves music and taking videos, so why not spend a day in the big city with him! roaming snack shops, album stores, go window shopping, hang out at skate parks, or do anything at all while taesan records every second of it on his camera bc he thinks ur the cutest person ever

CATCH MY HEARTS ON CAMERA

there was once a saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. taesan wants to capture everything about you in the case that words are a little hard to form. that's how in love with you he is.

PAIRING han taesan x fem!reader WC 3.2k TAGS fluff. taesan is literally in love goodnight. cussing. OMI NOTE i know this isn't exactly a drabble.. but as soon as i read that i thought of this and literally could not resist. i got a little carried away ngl LMAO but anything for you pearl.

there was once a saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. for this exact reason, taesan invested in a photo camera. it was second hand, but the quality wasn’t terrible. something about lower quality pictures felt more real to him, because not everything could be perfect.

what he wanted to do with the camera was all apart of his master plan, however. the amount of love he had in his heart for you extended great height. because of this, part of him needed something sincere to confess to you. and what was more lovely than a video diary

so hence started the project where he took you on a friend date once a week for four weeks. the word ‘friend’ was something he hated, as it made him feel crazy. there was a possibility you didn’t reciprocate, which is why he had to try everything.

when he brought up the idea (excluding the fact that he considered it a date), you were immediately on board. you always enjoyed being around taesan, so you paid no mind as to why. “i think that’s a really sweet idea taesan, we haven’t been able to properly hang out since i came back to korea. you’re just so popular” you told him happily.

“yeah it would be nice to spend some time together. i could maybe pick you up tomorrow?” his voice hints nervousness, but you don’t catch it.

“great! do you already have a plan for tomorrow?” “i can’t tell you, otherwise that ruins the surprise.” he smiles at you fondly.

with that, taesan stepped right onto planning. there were a multitude of places he was thinking about taking you. but at the end of the day, as long as you were together he would be okay.

friend date one: street food markets and a happy girl.

sometimes, food is the way to someones heart. and a little someone might’ve been dying to go to a food market during night - time to try all the best snacks in town. as soon as you brought it up some time ago, he could already envision the brightest grin pulled together on your lips.

hundreds of luminous lanterns shone throughout the alleyway. there were many banners sprawled out everywhere, advertising the different kinds of foods and merchandise you could purchase. not only that, the smell of meat and vegetables wafting through the air was heavenly.

as soon as you arrived at the location, taesan lead you carefully, making sure to cover your eyes. though you were sure when you heard the sizzling of food on a grill you knew exactly where you were. the touch of his skin on your eyes got hotter and hotter.

once he uncovers your face, your vision takes a second to adjust before you see the pretty vendors lining down the street. your jaw drops and you turn your heels to look at the boy behind you.

“oh my gosh taesannie no you didn’t!” you squeal like a little girl, jumping up and down, “i’ve wanted to come here for such a long time, but nobody ever wants to come with me!”

“i know haha that’s why i wanted to bring you–” you cut him off with a tight hug, his heart beat quickening.

“thank you thank you! i swear i’ve been craving street food forever since i moved back here.” 

when you pulled away, he almost had to chase after you as you ran down to see all the action. all of your senses being immediately heightened, stars behind your eyes. taesan knew this was a perfect moment, so he took his camera to record your rush.

“look they have gamja hot dogs!”

you ran up to one of the stands to order as taesan followed behind you. while you waited patiently for it to be prepared, you rocked on your feet eagerly. through the lens you looked cute, but it was incomparable to seeing it in person. 

“here, pay with this.” he grabbed money from his pocket with his free hand, giving it to you.

“are you sure taesannie– i just got promoted i can pay.” you try to hand it to him but he pushes it back to you.

“it’s not that expensive, don’t worry about it.” he insists.

“ahh okay fine. but next time we hang out i’ll pay!” you tilt your head and smile, shifting your attention to the crisp batter surrounding a mozzarella hot dog.

taking a bite, you immediately melt, chewing quickly so you could tell taesan how good it is.

“you have to try this it’s so good!” you put the treat up to his lips and he takes a bite, blushing at the thought of an indirect kiss. but you were right, it was really yummy.

“auhh, this is very good! you can get another if you’d like.” 

“then how will i have room for other stuff silly? let’s go look at all the other things!” you grab his hand to lead him around.

he places his camera back in his pocket, happy with the footage he got of your excited demeanor. the night would be long and your bellies would be full, and it was all worth it.

friend date two: let’s go skate!

the sound of wheels against pavement filled your ears, as you and taesan sprawled out on a grass patch nearby. there was a classic checkered blanket underneath the two of you with a basket of fruits and crackers.

“have you ever tried skating, y/n?” taesan asked as he handed you a napkin with a couple grapes in it.

“it’s too scary, i’d rather have my feet safely on the floor.” you tell him while snacking on the green fruit.

“i think it would be fun to try, i can help you. i brought my skateboard for a reason.”

“hold up– that’s basically me asking to die! you look a lot cooler when you’re doing it.” 

it sounded a little silly, but you were scared of skateboarding. professionals always made it look so cool, but it made you nervous. though after seeing taesan do a shoot at a skatepark, you thought it would be a nice recommendation to hang out there one day. but him actually remembering wasn’t something you expected. let alone have you try skateboarding.

taesan reddened with embarrassment at your compliment, shrugging it off, “just let me push you once, yeah? i can get some photos of you for your instagram.”

“that is a tad bit more convincing… you’ll hold me still, yeah?” you sit up from your spot, wiping any grass that might’ve gotten on your outfit.

“for sure, let’s go?” he holds a hand out to lead you down the little hill and towards the many skaters. 

you walked along with him, nearing closer and feeling more edgy. why exactly were you doing this? there was a possibility you just liked him that much, but you would never tell him that.

“taesannie i swear i have never touched a skateboard in my life, what if i eat shit and totally embarass myself?” you held the board he gave you in your shaky hands, fingers scratching against the dark grip tape.

“you won’t fall, y/n, i said i would be holding on to you.”

the idea of holding you as you stumble around on a skateboard was cute in his mind. he would help you get over your small fear, and take a few shots of you rolling around (with your arms swinging around like a weirdo, but his weirdo).

“okay okay.. but if you let me fall, zico will be hearing from me.” you sigh in defeat, placing the board down on the smooth pavement. 

“i promise, just step on the board and ill push you.” he gripped your arm in his hand while you stepped on the board.

“wait wait wait– don’t push me yet i’m scared.”

“don’t be scared okay? i’m right here i won’t let you get hurt.” taesan couldn’t help grinning at your clumsiness.

once you gave him the nod of approval, he let go of you and pushed. at first, you waved your arms arround to try to stablize yourself, but you got the hang of it.

“i’m doing it!” you exclaim while rolling off into the distance.

taesan zooms in on you rolling away while you shoot a thumbs up towards the camera. seeing you flailing around was sweet, but seeing you happy at your success was a lot more delightful.

friend date three: superache was lovely, but you’re lovelier.

just down the street, a very aesthetically pleasing album store opened up. if taesan wasn’t so caught up with work, he would’ve gone to the grand opening with riwoo. despite this he was quite relieved to learn you also were planning on going soon, so this was perfect.

both of you dressed comfy in matching hoodies (per your request) and walked a short distance to arrive there.

“i hope they have the conan gray cd i want. sunset season has been at the top of my shopping list, but the other stores near us are always sold out.” the bell rang at the top of the door when you guys walked in, signaling a greeting from the employees working.

“i enjoyed superache, i might get the vinyl for it actually.” taesan thought out loud.

“superache was really good too, what was your favorite song off of it?” you question, holding an imaginary mic up to his face.

“uhh probably memories? i listened to it a lot during weverse con.”

“oh i remember when you posted it! that makes sense i forgot.” you said, going towards the cd’s.

“you have my notifications on for weverse?” he asked sheepishly.

“why wouldn’t i? it’s like i get two times the texts from you.” you smile at him.

“that’s cute.” he spoke quietly that you could barely hear him.

the two of you scrolled mindlessly throughout the shop, flipping through the letter tabs to find the artist you liked. taesan made sure to mentally note which artists you looked at for longer, or which genre you browsed in for the longest. 

inside the shop, there were fake vines running across the walls and tons of posters littered about. it was awfully cozy, and though the dimmed lights made it harder for his camera to focus, you would look good even if you were blurry.

“taesannie! look i found the sunset season cd!” you bounced delightedly, holding up the jewel case in front of him. 

he captured the joyful expression on your face, your lips pulling into a teethy smile that made him feel warm. when you noticed the camera you made multiple poses holding the cd. watching your every movement as you switched between peace signs and half hearts.

the last date was nearing closer, it made his heart ache anxiously.

friend date four: this is our chapter, right?

after your friend date today, he would go home to make a compilation of all the memories you made in these few weeks. this was probably the most extroverted thing an introvert could do, but in a way, it made the most sense to him. 

he would show it to you the next day, hoping to be able to call you his girlfriend very soon. for now, it was best to swallow down the stress and make today worth it.

earlier in the morning, he texted you to meet up at a library just to hang out. there was a cute cafe there in case you felt hungry, and your favorite selection of books piled atop numerous shelves. 

taesan arrived earlier than you in order to pick out the best spot to sit together, out of view from too many passerbys. while it sounded oddly suspicious he just wanted time alone with you, he always did. and you trusted him.

“taee sannn?” you whisper yelled, walking at a fast pace with your head bopping around. he raised his hand up and you saw him sitting against a bookshelf.

“hey you found me.” he perked up quietly as you sat down next to him on the floor.

“yeah i basically had to parade around the whole library to find you, stupid. big tall mountain yet i was unable to point you out from all these people; who may i add, are not six fucking foot.” you tease, scooting in to him until your shoulders barely touched.

“well you found me now, that’s what matters, right?” 

“i guess so. what are you reading?” taking the corner of his book in between your fingers, you slightly pull it in your direction.

“i’m not sure, i kinda just picked something up while i was waiting. it’s pretty good so far though.” he moves his head up, feeling the closeness of your guys’ faces. you were still looking, analyzing the pages.

“it smells old.”

“what?” he laughed, “you don’t like the smell of books?”

“it’s not that, it just reminds me that i haven’t been in a library in such a long time. reading makes me tired.” you yawn.

“don’t fall asleep on me now, here, i’ll go a few pages back and we can read together okay? just tap my arm when you want me to turn the page.” he told you while you just hummed in reply.

together, you read in silence for awhile. the pads of your fingers gently pressing into taesan’s arm whenever you were ready to move onto the next page. over time, your taps got lighter and lighter, until you didn’t tap at all.

your head fell into his shoulder, making him flinch slightly at the sudden contact. when he glanced back over to you, your eyes were shut.

taesan freezes, unsure of what to do. does he wake you? he doesn’t dare to move a single muscle, ultimately deciding to let you rest. his mind and heart is racing because while you were always close with him, it was different when he had a crush on you.

he took his arm to wrap around your body, pulling you closer towards him. you nuzzled into him comfortably, unbeknownst to you exactly what you were doing. he pulled his camera to snap a very charming photo of you all sleepy. something about you looked very silly, so he was excited to show you and tease you about it.

right. he had a whole compilation of things he wanted to show you.

“you have no idea how much i like you, y/n.” he murmurs softly.

friend dates are out, confessions are in: i think really really love you.

taesan stayed up all night clipping together photos and videos of you. every scene of you, every detail, he studied over and over just reminiscing of all the moments you got to spend together. he was so fucking scared you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

normally he was calm, putting up this kind of chill persona. but genuinely he was terrified. any of the other members that he talked to about the whole situation told him that you definitely returned his feelings, but he could never be too sure. leehan was on top of telling him that he’d be fine.

but there he was, anxiously waiting for you to knock on his door. his laptop lay in front of him on the coffee table, tabbed out of the video so you don’t see it right away. time couldn’t pass any slower.

however he swore his heart rate picked up even more when you did knock. he quickly pulled out his phone to make sure he was looking okay. his outfit was nothing fancy, just some sweatpants and a shirt, but he still wanted to be presentable for you. the best way to get you over to his house was a movie night, so comfy attire was a must.

“hi taesan!” you greeted him as he opened the door to let you in. 

“hey, are you ready for a movie night?” he fidgeted with the jawstrings on his sweats, going to sit over on the couch with you behind him.

“yes i’m excited! i get big blanket though you stole it last time.”

“yeah of course, but um– i wanted to show you something first.” he stuttered out.

“sure, what’s up?” you were worried from taesan’s sudden demeanor change. he took his laptop from the table and switched to a tab, placing it in your lap.

“hit play.”

once you did so, you were met with a melodic sound in the background. it was a tune you were familiar with, but you never knew where it was from. taesan would hum it all the time, and you realized once the first verse started that it was his voice.

‘hi, y/n. these were my favorite moments with you for the past week.’ read the captions below.

photos and videos of your past few weeks together played on the screen in order. you waiting excitedly for your gamja hot dog, you rolling away on taesans skateboard.

‘you might be wondering why i put all of this together, and sometime throughout this i wondered if it was stupid.’

 the multiple photos of you posing with your favorite conan gray cd, and lastly a photo of you sleeping soundly against taesan’s shoulder.

‘but i think it was perfect for me to capture every single moment that made me fall in love with you.’

the expression on your face was blank, you blinked back, still a bit confused. more photos played throughout the video, selfies of you and taesan over the past couple years.

‘i really really love you, y/n.’

as the video came to an end and the screen went black, you looked over at taesan with tears welling in your eyes. you moved the laptop next to you and leaned over to embrace him in a hug.

“taesannie… why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you sniffed while he returned your hug.

“i just didn’t know how. you deserve nothing less than perfection y/n…” he paused, “and i mean it. i really am in love with you, i always have been.”

“i love you too, taesan.”

in that moment, every single worry and doubt he’s ever had washed away as you placed your lips on his. it was like a reward for the constant longing he had for you. part of it still felt like a dream, but you’ve always been absolutely unreal in his eyes.

“is that what all of those dates were for? to hypnotize me into falling in love with you?” you giggled pulling away.

“i mean it wasn’t my intention, but if it happened, it happened.” 

“shut up, this was totally something leehan would do! he helped you didn’t he?” you furrow your eyebrows while poking his cheek in an attempt to get answers out of him.

“you don’t give me enough credit, this was my idea i promise. he’s just the one that kept me sane during all of it.”

“even if you were insane i wouldn’t mind visiting my lovely boyfriend in the mental hospital.” you place another slow kiss on his lips.

“that sounds nice, girlfriend.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

[myherobkg]

Rivals to Enemies to Lovers trope with Katsuki and pro-hero!reader who laughs at Katsuki’s competitiveness in the ranks.

Pro-hero!reader who doesn't care about the ranks and just wants to take out villains. The public regards you as the Symbol of Justice because you save innocents and put criminals behind bars. You're righteous and kind in the papers and in front of the cameras.

But Katsuki knows the real you—a nihilistic psychopath who can snap a grown man's neck without batting an eye. And you know that he knows. Which makes him nervous.

He steers clear away from you, avoiding you at functions and for media marketing shoots. When he crosses paths with you on an assignment or scene, he—against himself—keeps quiet and out of your sight. No matter how far he strays, Katsuki sees you every night.

You leave a trail of bodies he isn't supposed to find. Shrouded in darkness and a stealth suit, the vision of you compels him to follow.

Bodies litter the floor with guns and bullet shells, and you're prancing over them like a fairy. You find one alive and pick them up by their neck, smiling that ridiculously creepy grin you wore as your hero uniform.

He hears the man cry for help, and Katsuki goes rigid in the dark. Why won't he move? Save them! The man's screams get louder and more desperate, and right as he hears the snap—

Katsuki wakes up. His heart races, and the memory of your eyes that night haunts him. He wishes he had never seen you that night. Never decided to follow you.

Before that night, he planned on asking to work together more. After a few years of you being a pain in his ass, stealing his saves, and earning higher stats, you were starting to grow on him...a little. Not enough to overlook this.

And after that night, he hasn't been around you since. That was a mistake. You figured out immediately that Katsuki saw you that night. And that he didn't report you.

Instead, he waited. He waited for you to get caught, for a witness or a survivor to come forward, but no one did.

When Katsuki returned to investigate the scene, it was completely cleared out. No bodies. No evidence.

It was as if that night had never happened. But Katsuki relives it every night, so it has to have.

And the way you smile at him now. You've always smiled at him, but he didn't know the truth about you then. Now, your smile is creepy. Psychotic.

Katsuki should report you, even without the evidence. You're killing people, and it isn't right. The public should know.

But there were guns and bullets at the scene. Those people were shooting at you, so obviously, they were criminals. You were just keeping the city safe.

Your methods were unorthodox and extreme, but to some extent, part of Katsuki had to admit that you were just doing your job.

[whomstwedointheshadows]

I am howling at the sky for the look tonight that Harvey Guillén staked to death, spat on, and made it beg on the red carpet. Instead of just ranting to my queer fashion/fandom retail friends again, I took our collective slobber and tears to outline my plea to the fashion gods.

Why doesn’t this man have a ‘mens’wear line in every American mall? There is a gap in the market for adventurous, queer friendly suiting available through a retailer like Macys/J C Penney. Yes, retail is dying and wedding industry more so, but that’s particular to what’s available for consumers as well. Suiting is turned from off the rack into iconic by proper tailoring, but let me tell you from working all sides of the bridal salon, even up-scale clothing lines are getting rude as hell about quality and assembly to prevent tailoring and longevity.

This kid’s Disney charm would be perfect for introducing a plus size, inclusive line of fashion-forward pieces which include, say a QR code video about taking your own measurements, how adjustments work, with pieces designed to be sleek, with enough allowance for tailoring, and minding the lines in the garment to make the adjustments for plus size bodies easier. It’s no more adjustments than are made on straight size bodies, it’s just straight size bodies have more options to find a line which works with their natural shape.

But in my experience, it’s gender non-conforming folks and plus sized folks who get pushed out of finding pieces they can actually use for celebrations or work, much less pieces with actual personality that spark joy. This man has been killing it for years, really getting some clutch looks for events and invites in the fashion world. He’s showing proof of concept every time he steps in front of a camera.

Watching Harvey’s fashion evolution, I trust his fashion team and judgement to create a mid/high line for workwear to events suiting embracing a gender nonconforming audience. I can’t think of anyone better situated to become the ambassador of a brand with *the* formal wear for queer events and special occasions. I was tickled to see he sells his own merch and hope this experience convinces him of the joy working with artists and connecting their visions to a wanting public, dipping toes into the new ethical, sustainable trends in fashion. His looks alone shows he’s done his homework over the years about timelessness and early adopting trends.

For the years I worked selling/tailoring wedding dresses, there was the prophetic ‘someday… along will come the man who revives men’s fashion for events again’ to save the David’s bridal/men’s wear house lines who keep dropping plus sizes like mine and dying off. As the pet butch in the bridal salon I pleaded to the sky for better suiting options. Add that to my butch lezzy ways and trans masc circle of friends I legit spent this past Friday night drunk in a bar with a seam ripper adjusting jackets and darting pants in an unplanned sewing circle for a bachelorette until it was my round of karaoke. This isn’t the first time I’ve spontaneously started tailoring for the queers, I can’t keep up with the demand! Y’all we are in our twenties to mid thirties there should be better options than this that don’t require a vacation to LA/NY!!

I have ethical, sustainable fashion preferences about slipping in a retailer versus an online brand. But for the vision of accessible clothing to the masses pushing the envelope of the kind of quality only vintage pieces are affording the general public, this is the only celebrity really posed with the image, high energy, and bona fides to be the face of it. His connections in the fashion game are only growing as WWDITS wraps up.

If this man opened a pop-up suiting/fashion shop I’d take my limited time and resources to really dig in to the designers he promoted. I’d be howling in the streets for my celebrants to go get a Gullién. There’s no shortage online pattern makers, but there is a shortage of queer friendly shops to really get pieces that pop and it feels safe to enjoy in a retail environment. For average people wanting to engage with fashion that affirms their identity on their special day, there’s too much fucking compromise. Honestly it’s nice that I have a side hustle sewing to pattern, but I’d give it up in a fucking heartbeat for there to be actually sustainable and approachable options. I wish there was an in between of being ‘affordable’ gnc suiting in an American mall but add plus size availability and it gets sad for your most thrifty, creative friends. Someone needs the step in the gap, and why not someone at the top of the game?

Even if it was just a pop up line every few years, I’d fucking salivate over every image in that catalogue two thousand miles away for what it can teach home sewists just by virtue of curating those artisans with the express goal of queer, fat friendly designs playing together. Just the existence of vintage shops like Proud Mary creates a boom across the inter-webs of new sewists per post. Could anyone really imagine if there were actually accessible stores in key cities/supported by an online catalog with a personable, rising star as the brand face?

Please feed us more fashion, Harvey. Keep those stylists and designer friends close. Please. I cannot stress how many mascs/nb-bebes keep dropping your name every fitting consultation across this nation and it’s for good reason.

[naturallyadventured]

ofstardustandearth

like the strum of a chord that plays our heart strings oh just so, some places, people, scents, melodies, moments embed themselves into our souls

as I lay in the sand watching the waves, wild and powerful, crashing with such unexpected conviction, the warmth of the day radiating deep into my naked skin and down into my core, I was immersed in a daydream, experiencing this human life stretching out from birth to death as an epic treasure hunt

each of us fitted from the womb with a unique internal compass that blinks and beeps and sings when we hit on something that’s for us. Like the metal detector my Uncle T would sweep across the fields, recovering silver dollars and odd shaped mechanical doodads. One man’s trash, another’s most prized treasure. Seeing things not as they are, but as we are. As they are in significance and relation to ourselves

delighted by this vision of the treasure hunt, I lay and mused on what fun it is that we get to adventure through our lives looking for each jewel that lights us up. No right or wrong, only what makes the vibration and chimes set off

a strawberry tamale made by a sweet grandma in a little mountain hut blooming with bright flowers, an open aired perch above the tumultuous ocean with dreamy mosquito net and a little thatched roof window to the sky, the melancholy lilt of a flute as the sun dips slowly into the sea and night sweeps deep purples into the clouds, the radiant smile and spark of recognition from a new friend in the market sharing a mug of tejate, the feeling of my camera encased in her water house, supplicating in my hands, seducing me to hold her and create

mermejita you have my heart. A gleaming love shaped agate from the ocean, smooth and delightful in the palm of my hand. A treasure I will cherish for always

[maebys-delivery-service]

Timing: Current Location: Outside Maeby's "Apartment" Feat: @mortemoppetere & @maebys-delivery-service Warnings: None Summary: Emilio's newest case leads him to Maeby's.... fire escape?

Sometimes, people called him about strange occurrences. Emilio wasn’t sure if this was a typical expectation of private investigators or if Axis had gotten something of a reputation for their willingness to work strange cases — could have been either, or some mixture of both — but he didn’t really hate it. People asked interesting questions, and it could be almost fun to search for the answers. He’d never admit it, but it gave him something of a rush. These days, he was closest to happy when he had something worth figuring out.

This particular case seemed to be something in that vein. A client had gotten a package with what turned out to be a cursed artifact inside. They’d managed to remove the curse in question — they were a skilled spellcaster, and someone he hoped to keep in his back pocket as a potential contact if this case played out well — but they wanted to know where the package had come from. If someone was out to get them, they’d reasoned, it was better to know who that someone was. Emilio had been more than happy to take on the case, especially when the spellcaster offered to pay half up front. 

He’d done a bit of digging so far. A few shady business owners who’d been willing to let him take a look at their security cameras in exchange for favors later, a little old fashioned snooping, a couple of stops in the liquor store for mostly unrelated reasons, and here he was, standing outside an abandoned theater that seemed to be the residence of a courier who delivered shit like this. The job market in Wicked’s Rest was a strange one. Propping against the wall, he waited for the kid to appear. It didn’t take long. He’d been there a minute, maybe two when she slipped down a fire escape, package in hand. He approached her with a nod. “Maebelle Knot?” His accent curled uncertainly around the name. “Hoping to ask a few questions.”

— 

Maeby liked when the world was quiet. Hearing aids turned almost off, just the gentle hum of whatever music today felt like. It was a classical sort of day. All cellos and violins. Deep cascading rhythms, charging off and dancing along the melodies. The morning had thus far been a peaceful affair. One delivery, then a big wait until her next pickup. Maeby even had a chance to go home, stock up on road snacks and take a quick cat nap. 

(Lord knows she wasn't sleeping well at night anymore. What with all visions of great monsters, gnashing teeth, hard scales, and terrible things she was to become.) 

It was only on the return, going back from her restful little nest that some stranger broke the placid pleasantness. Maeby scowled at the words she couldn't quite hear, but the lips that looked an awful lot like they were saying their name. She did not know this man. He had not earned the right to call her by her full name. But the fact that he knew it at all wasn't a good one. (Unless he was saying something else entirely, perhaps Bay Hell Nod?) Maeby glanced sidelong towards the end of the alley, a quick consideration on how hard it would be to bolt past a guy like this. 

Why was he here? Who the hell was he? 

She opted for something else, feigned ignorance. “Sorry–” she pointed towards her ears and the matte plastic that stuck out even amongst the piercings and whatnot. “Don't know directions to any sable pond.” Maeby embodied a rather lackluster approximation of apologeticness and stepped to the side, gripping her longboard tighter as she made for the exit. 

—

She was younger than he thought she’d be. He hadn’t been able to get an exact age in his research — given the state of where she was living, he doubted she’d signed a lease for him to pull — but she looked around Nora or Wynne’s age, give or take a few years. She looked about ready to bolt, too, and Emilio really hoped she wouldn’t. There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep up with her. His bad leg flared up with a brief flash of pain at the mere thought of it, like the limb itself was warning him against the concept of anything more intense than a casual stride. If she ran, he’d have to come back another day, stake out the theater over and over and over again until she grew tired enough of his presence to speak to her. 

Luckily, she didn’t run right away. Instead, she pointed to her ear — he didn’t know what the plastic was — and said something that didn’t make sense. It took a moment for him to put two and two together, to connect the thing in her ear to the nonsensical response to his question. He thought of Jonas, who required Emilio to look directly at him and speak slowly, enunciating in ways that often felt unnatural with his accent. He could do that for this kid, too. The problem was, he got the feeling she was intentionally misunderstanding him.

Gritting his teeth, he stepped in front of her again, fishing his phone from his pocket and typing on the screen. Need to talk to you about something. He flipped it around so the words were facing her, expression neutral. “I can talk,” he looked her in the eyes as he would Jonas, spoke slowly and carefully, “or I can type. Typing will take longer. I have plenty of time. Something tells me you have less.”

—

Man, this would have been a wonderful time to turn into a great big man eating monster. Maeby itched at the back of her neck. Shifting uncomfortably as the rough patch there seemed to spread with her unease. More scales, but not enough to do anything with. Still it was kind of dumb to think like that, the kid chastised herself. The monster she was turning into was the one that ruined her life. It was the reason guys like this were probably looking for her. 

He didn't look like a cop. Maybe he was… the guy who owned the theater? Or worse, maybe her parents had somehow figured out where she was. Sent someone to drag her back. And she'd never get a cure before the worst happened. Before she turned into a monster and ate them all. 

Mr. Whoever was talking slowly. Over enunciating and pulling out his phone to type on. Great. Maeby’s scowl turned farther south. Souring more and more as it looked like this was a conversation she might actually have to have. A long sigh rolled from her chest and up and out. She carefully twisted the dial on her aid till the volume of the world matched something like ‘normal’ and the music all but faded away. “What.” Not exactly a question, not an invitation, either. If he had something to say, he better spit it out. 

—

She looked uncomfortable, and Emilio forced himself not to give a shit. If she was out here delivering cursed objects to people, he needed to get to the bottom of it for her sake as much as for the sake of the people who her deliveries were affecting. He knew firsthand what a cursed object could do to someone; memories of the cursed necklace that sent him to the roof of his apartment building gripped him by the throat, reminded him of where he might be now if Teddy hadn’t shown up to drag his drunk ass to their shitty houseboat. Shit like this was no joke. Uncomfortable or no, he needed to make her face it.

Her expression shifted, stormy look clear on her face. She seemed to recognize that Emilio wasn’t going anywhere, and that was good. That would save him a lot of time. He was a stubborn piece of shit, but his life was a lot easier when he didn’t have to be. He preferred being able to get things done without resorting to a shouting match outside an abandoned theater, especially when said shouting match was with a fucking kid. 

So it was a relief, really, when the kid reached up to the hunk of plastic in her ear and did something that seemed to make her hear him a little better. It was a relief when she demanded to know what he wanted. Even her clear irritation came as a relief in its familiarity; Emilio knew what to do with that far better than he did with most other emotions. He pocketed his phone and crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly with a nod. “You deliver things.” He tried to speak clearly, even though he thought whatever she’d done with her ears meant she could hear him now. He didn’t want to give her an excuse to drag this shit out. “Yes? You delivered one to a guy a few blocks from here. A, uh…” He struggled to find the word, fingers tapping against his arm uncertainly. “Box. With uh, dancers.” Hopefully, she’d know what he meant.

—

Mr. Sinclair was going to get a sternly worded letter at this rate. Some kind of big complaint. Possibly even a condemnation. The not-cop was asking about her deliveries, and that sent her mind from concerned to cranky. It was bad enough that the old vampire bossed her around and made her run halfway across the city just to turn around and go to the other side for these special deliveries, now Maeby had to deal with some angry customer or whatever. 

“Don't know what's in them. Not my job. I just put them where the package says. All complaints can go–” Quite suddenly the kid shifted in demeanor. Stopping short of outing her employer. Something she'd promised not to do. 

(Weirdly to Mr. Sinclair's strange assistant, not to him, though. Maeby didn't really understand why that was such a specific distinction he had, or why it was an…exceptionally well kept promise. But then again, she hardly understood half the shit going on since she got to town.) 

“Up your butt and around the corner.” She deflected, crossing her arms and taking up a post leaning against the brick wall behind her. A wrinkle tilted her nose up, like she'd caught a whiff of something rank. “Why do you even care?”

—

Now that was interesting. He caught it, the moment she almost gave away more than she meant to. The way her body stiffened, the way she faltered. It meant there was something more to tell, meant she wasn’t the top of the food chain here. Emilio wasn’t particularly surprised by that; he doubted a kid was the one running an operation sending out cursed objects to people, especially when the kid in question didn’t set off any ‘undead and probably a lot older than they look’ alarm bells in his head. She was hiding something; that meant there was something to hide.

He studied her for a moment, brows raised. She was standoffish, she clearly didn’t want to talk to him. He’d run into kids like her a thousand times in this town, knew most of her act probably was an act. He didn’t think she wanted to hurt anyone. In his experience, most kids didn’t. (On some level, he knew that was a biased way of thinking. There were kids who were shitty, kids who reveled in causing others pain, kids who wanted nothing more than to hurt people. But Emilio had a hard time seeing that, had a hard time accepting it. To him, kids were the only ones ever awarded the benefit of the doubt. Everyone else got the full dose of his paranoia.)

“It hurt somebody,” he commented, idly pulling out a pack of cigarettes and putting one in his mouth. He held it between his teeth as he continued. “The person who wound up with it. They were lucky — they knew how to fix it before it got bad. But the next person might not. Or the one after that, or the one after that. More stuff like this gets delivered, someone could end up real hurt. I don’t think you want that.” He lit the cigarette, taking a long drag. “Or maybe you do. But I don’t.”

—

Maeby bristled. Her heart picked up and she tried to look anywhere that wasn’t at this stranger. Her face felt hot, but it remained in that tight scowl. Trying to look unaffected, and failing quite spectacularly. The cool of the bricks behind her was the only thing grounding her well enough to keep tears from forming. She hated confrontation. The first sign of it usually meant shutting down in one way or another, but this was different. Much much more at stake than someone who potentially might maybe get hurt. 

Exactly what she worried about was true? So what? More people would get hurt, she reminded herself, if she didn’t get the cure. If she followed in the steps of every monster on the silver screen and destroyed whole towns, cities, states. Catastrophizing? Maybe. But Maeby was still a kid. Pretty sheltered one at that. With a mind that tended to take things literally. So when a scary witch tells you quite cryptically that ‘you will destroy everything you care about’ then a week later the first scale appears, well. Maeby believed it. 

“Not my fault.” She lied. Or at least, deflected again. “Maybe they ordered it like that. I’m just delivering them.” Maeby had to keep delivering them. She had to find out everything there was to know about Lamia, and how to stop being one before it got bad. “Why not go bother someone else. I don’t have to talk to you.” 

—

He’d rattled her. She was trying not to show it, but she wasn’t as skilled in keeping a straight face as he was in seeing past them. He took note of the way she leaned back, the way she looked shaken by the bluntness of his words. He’d meant to make her lose her cool, but he still felt a stab of guilt at the success. Emilio took no real pleasure in questioning kids like this, didn’t find it nearly as fun or rewarding as interrogating people a little older, who tended to deserve rougher handling. 

It’d be easier if she just told him what he needed to know. He wasn’t lying about his intentions; his client had managed to break the curse easily enough, but not everyone who got a delivery from this kid would be a powerful spellcaster. Sooner or later, someone was going to get hurt. Irreparably so. Emilio wanted to prevent that for the kid as much as he wanted to prevent it for the potential victim of the next curse she dropped off someplace. Hurting people wasn’t an easy thing to deal with, to stomach. It wasn’t the kind of thing most people came back from. Emilio would know better than most; he was one of the ones who never made it back.

“Maybe it’s not your fault,” he agreed with a shrug. “You didn’t know what it’d do. But I’m telling you now. You know now. So the next one you drop off, if it hurts somebody… Harder to say that’s not your fault. One after that, too. And after that.” He took another drag from the cigarette, turning his head away from her to exhale with a sigh. “You don’t have to talk to me,” he agreed. “But I’m going to find out what I need to know. Could find it out from you. Could find it out from someone else. Doesn’t matter much to me, but might make you feel better if you’re the one helping. Feels better than hurting, sometimes.”

—

“Yeah, well– some of them are good too.” She shot back. Face red hot and steaming. “Life-saving even.” The only other time Maeby had been approached after delivering something, it was pretty much the opposite of this. And only because the person was there when she dropped the package off. And they insisted she stay for its opening. 

Maeby didn't know why but the person was really compelling. Like they couldn't leave if they wanted to. Something about them just pulled her right inside. It all turned out okay, even if it was odd. The package had some great thing the woman had been looking for for ages and she said that she'd just die without it. So, life-saving. Right? Then she just gave Maeby a cookie and sent her on her way. Weird, but she never really thought about it much after. 

“You aren't going around and fucking up regular postman’s days. They deliver shit that could be good or bad or neutral.” The young courier defended her position. It wasn't exactly perfect and she knew that, but it was necessary if she didn't want things to get worse. “Why don't you go find the people sending the packages then huh?? They're the ones who—who– who” She fumbled, tripping over her words as her frustration grew. “who are actually doing the bad things, Mister Tough Guy??” 

—-

“You willing to roll the dice like that?” It was a genuine question. Was she okay with delivering packages that might hurt people if the tradeoff was packages that might help them? There was give and take with everything; Emilio knew that better than most. It was the same with what he did, sometimes. You hurt some people to help others. But how much control did she have? She seemed uncertain, seemed like maybe she didn’t know what was in those packages before she dropped them off. What was the ratio of ones that hurt versus ones that helped? Did she know? Did she want to?

He snorted at her defense, leveling her with a deadpan expression. “If I got a call about a postman’s package nearly killing someone then, yeah, I’d go fuck up their days. But I didn’t. I got a call about yours.” He couldn’t solve every goddamn problem in the world, and there were days when he hated himself for that. There were days when he read about ‘animal attacks’ in cemeteries and figured they were his fault, days when the weight of the world fit pretty snugly on top of his shoulders. He was learning to accept that he needed to do what he could, to save who he could save. This case was one someone had brought to him. This courier was standing in front of him. He could investigate this one. Maybe it’d make up for the ones he couldn’t.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, kid. How do you think this shit works? You start at the bottom, you work your way up. You’re on the bottom. I talk to you, figure out who you work for. Then I talk to them, figure out who paid them to have the package delivered. Then I go to that person, figure out why. If I could start at the top, I’d do it. But people like that are pretty goddamn good at hiding. Easier to find the people who are doing the bad things if the ones who don’t want bad things to happen will help you.”

—

It weighed on her. Of course it did. How could it not? As much as Maeby Knott wanted to pretend she was the aloof unaffected punk who could take the hard knocks and still be cool, she was more the sheepish kid who was scared shitless over all the sudden changes to her life. They had moved out for the first time, had to rig together every scrap to make some manner of home here in Wicked's Rest. 

Part of that was the job. 

Trickling information down from someone who, as the stranger put it, was at the top. Mr. Sinclair was smart and ancient. He was a fucking vampire for real real and he wasn't afraid to flex the strength that gave him even for small bouts of ire. Maeby shuddered to think of what it might look like if he got properly angry. 

Even if that wasn't a problem, Mr. Sinclair was the only hope for a cure. Maeby couldn't jeopardize that. Not even for someone trying to do the right thing. 

“Well, better figure all that out then, huh?” She barked, the heat rising behind her cheeks. She couldn't look at him anymore. Couldn't stand to be here, or anywhere that people's eyes could cast upon her. Whenever things got like this, it felt like the world could read her every thought. Felt like her heartbeat gave away every secret. Almost frantically, she turned to her board. Realizing then she'd been gripping it so tight her knuckles had gone white. Maeby dropped it to the ground and brushed past the man in the leather jacket. Escaping before the tears threatened to well, or god forbid, fall. 

—

It was clear he’d gotten to her, but it was just as clear that she wasn’t going to tell him what he needed to know. It would have been easier for the both of them if she would have, would have meant less trouble in the long run, but it was what it was. Maybe she was afraid of her boss, he reasoned; whoever was in charge of sending cursed objects out to people doubtlessly carried some power, and she was just a kid. Maybe whoever was over her head had her locked into something tight, and her fear clamped her jaw shut tighter than anything else could ever hope. 

Or maybe she believed what she was spouting. Emilio thought of himself at that age, defending the Cortez code so vehemently that anyone who questioned it for a second saw him spitting venom in their direction. It had taken a kid of his own for him to figure out the things he’d been taught hadn’t been entirely true, and even now he sometimes found himself defending the person he didn’t want to be anymore. 

Whatever the reason, though, it was clear that Maebelle Knott was a dead end, that Emilio would need to take the investigation in another direction if he ever hoped to solve it. If she’d been someone else, he might have pushed more. Someone a few years older might have found themselves shoved against the wall, might have felt a blade against their chest in a quiet warning. But this was a kid, and Emilio couldn’t bring himself to threaten her. Instead, he nodded as she dropped her board and brushed by him.

“Probably be seeing you around,” he called after her. This client wouldn’t be the only one who came to him with some kind of problem that led back to her. He was sure of that. “Hope I’m not telling you about someone one of your deliveries killed next time.”

—

Maeby’s mind was a staticky mess. Pushing out and in, in all directions. Fighting a losing war against morals and judgment and whatever the hell the greater good was in this situation. There was no other greater good for her, than stopping this tide of destruction that was heading her way. Who knows how fast. Could be tomorrow, could be a week from now. But whenever that reptilian curse reared its ugly scaly head, the greater good was in more danger than receiving mystery packages from a mildly magical source. 

As the young soon-to-be-monster sped off, away enough that she only barely caught the stranger’s final jab, but it was enough to seal the coffin on her most current breakdown. The guy already knew where she lived, so she didn’t have to go skate around the neighborhood before circling back to the one place she shouldn’t be disturbed. But maybe it helped get out some excess energy. Maybe it took their mind off of the obvious long enough for her to calm down. Maybe it was all an escape, in a way. 

All she knew was tomorrow there would be another package. And she’d have to deliver it. 

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 17: It's a Curse, It's a Sure Sign

Summary: Theo and Chris accidentally make their red carpet debut at the Met Gala, to a night full of surprises. 

Author's Notes: Hi everyone! 

So first, I just want to say a big thanks for sticking with this and following along. If you happen to be one of the people who follows me on tumblr, you may know that the brain gremlins were hitting real hard this week and messing with me something fierce. I’ve had a temporary reprieve, but they still suck. I’m behind on replying to things, but I appreciate y’all the same.

Anyways, the next chapter won’t go up until two weeks from now, since I’m on call and then it’s midterms… So, keep an eye out on March 10th for the next update.

Contents: Canon-typical combat. Implied conflict between a couple? 

Word Count: 6,779

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist Song: Monster - PVRIS

Where do I begin? I can't explain it Know you wasted (Twenty plus years) Like photos fading in, I see 'em changing All the faces (Waiting up all night) The Met Gala.

The motherfucking Met Gala.

If someone asked Theo a year ago if she could ever imagine herself attending, she would have laughed them out of the building — no, out of the country.

And yet, she stood on the steps to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Alexander McQueen, paparazzi shouting her name from all sides as flash bulbs from cameras percolated her field of vision. Chris stood beside her, one hand on the small of her back as he flashed a blinding grin at the expanse of people before them.

They hadn’t planned to make the Met Gala their red carpet debut. Sure, they knew the other would be in attendance, and their management teams planned certain elements of the evening to ensure they would have time together… Once they got inside. However, one of the staff managing the procession of celebrities assumed that Theo had somehow been separated from Chris in the photo line-up, despite waiting with her fellow Avengers. Though Theo politely assured the staffer that she did not need to skip the line, the staffer only seemed more embarrassed by what they perceived as their mistake as Theo refused the offers to join Chris, until Theo relented out of pity and allowed the staffer to bring her over to where Chris posed for photographs. 

Naturally, paparazzi went wild asking for photos of the couple, and of course the oh-so-charming Chris had to accept. 

“I didn’t think we were taking photos tonight,” Chris leaned in and whispered in Theo’s ear; Theo feigned a smile, pretending to giggle at something he said so no one would catch onto the conversation. 

Chris looked back at the camera, shifting his weight to offer a fresh pose for photos.

Theo turned towards him, rising onto her tip toes so she could whisper her reply into his ear. “I know - the event staffer who brought me here thought it was a mix-up in the arrival order.” Theo lowered herself back to her feet as Chris leaned down, nodding at her to continue as he smiled for the cameras. “Despite my insistence that I didn’t need to take photos with you, she kept getting more and more embarrassed - I felt so bad that I finally said yes, just so she wouldn’t cry.” 

Straightening up, Chris turned and flashed a sweet smile to Theo that could have melted the iciest of hearts. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised - you’re always looking out for other people.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple to cheers from the crowd.

Before the conversation could continue, another staff member ushered Chris inside, while a third staff member instructed Theo to pose for solo photos. Without anyone else to make the experience less awkward, she tried to remember the tricks that the Avengers’ marketing team taught her about taking flattering photos. 

Either the time passed faster than Theo expected or the staff member in charge of moving the line took pity on her, because the next thing Theo knew she heard her teammates hollering at her, and turned to find them sauntering towards her. 

“Hey!” Theo cheered, arms wide in an enthusiastic greeting as her peers gathered around, everyone spacing themselves out and adjusting their clothes in preparation for group photos. 

“Thanks for ditching us back there,” Yelena teased with a wink, nudging Theo as she passed by. 

As Yelena spoke, Loki positioned himself to stand behind Theo. Dressed in a custom brocade suit so precisely tailored that it could have been painted onto him, there was no question that Loki would appear on the many “best dressed” lists that would be published in the coming days. He offered Theo a silent greeting in the form of a cheshire smirk and subtle nod, but that wasn’t what caught Theo’s attention.

“Your bowtie is crooked,” Theo pursed her lips, twisting away from the camera to fiddle with the piece of fabric around Loki’s neck. “How did you get this far into the photocall without noticing?"

“Darling, it’s fine,” Loki playfully swatted her hands away, all the while chuckling softly. “You need not fuss over me like a mother hen.”

Bucky snorted, watching the exchange from close by as he settled into position. 

“Watch out Buck, I’ll come fuss over you too.” Theo warned, earning a laugh out of Shuri, whose custom Wakandan attire brought a fresh interpretation to the Gala’s theme and somehow managed to be fun, trendy, and regal at the same time. 

Odds were high that Queen Ramonda had something to do with the regal part.  

Gathering the Avengers for a group photo was best compared to herding cats - getting over a dozen people to look at the same place and smile for the cameras at the same time without becoming distracted turned out to be much harder than Theo expected. After the first five minutes, the poor event staffers tasked with wrangling the Avengers gave up, allowing the Avengers to relax and chat with each other and take photos in smaller groups instead. 

There were natural groupings that photographers clamored for. The military boys - Steve, Bucky, Rhodes, and Sam - stood with heads held high and chests puffed ever-so-slightly, with hands resting at their sides as if they were about to be called to attention. If the quartet had chosen to wear their formal military attire instead of tuxedos, the United States government would have probably used the picture for military recruitment. 

Bruce, Tony, Peter, and Shuri - who for some reason had become known as ‘the science bros’ - also posed together for photographs. Unlike the soldiers, who posed with such uniformity that it was almost eerie, the varied level of comfort in front of the cameras and diverse personalities in this group created an almost humorous level of contrast. Tony and Shuri, whether because of their upbringings or infallible charisma, worked the photographers with charming jokes and quick banter, while Peter and Bruce seemed perfectly happy to laugh along and let their friends compete for the spotlight.

Other pairings were all but required: the Widows, the Asgardians, and the Wakandans took their turns in front of the cameras. Theo took photos alongside Dr. Strange, because the general public apparently loved the idea of two doctors who could both use magic, though in reality Theo had only ever talked to the man a few times. 

In between, photographers snapped pictures of the many assorted conversations, as well as snapping posed pictures of the people in said conversations. A second attempt to fix Loki’s bow tie was caught on camera, which subsequently led to a posed photo of Loki and Theo, as well as a photo of Loki and Theo with Wanda and Vision.

After holding a photogenic expression for enough time that her face hurt, Theo nearly jumped for joy when the event staff glanced at a clock, then moved as if to dismiss the Avengers; however, before they could make an announcement, a photographer shouted from the endless sea of faces: “Magic users – we need a group photo!” 

Entirely aware that even a moment of displeasure would infinitely be recorded on camera and plastered across the internet, Theo channeled her inner Chris by maintaining a forced enthusiasm, gesturing for the other three magic wielders to gather around. Sandwiched between Loki and Wanda, Theo wrapped her arms around her friends and flashed yet another smile for the infinite barrage of flashes.

Blinded by the lights, the announcement from the event staff that there was no more time for photos may as well have been a voice speaking from the heavens… A very tired, mildly exasperated voice, granted, but still, the news came as a relief.

“Finally – I’m starving!” Sam complained with a dramatic toss of his head backward, making it sound like he’d never eaten in his life. Realistically, they were 30 yards from the entrance - all they had to do was make it inside and there would be plenty of appetizers and drinks for them to nosh on as they toured the exhibition for which the Gala was meant to celebrate. 

This year, the Costume Institute’s exhibition had been titled: “The Anatomy of Fashion: Representations of the Human Body in Couture,” and the gala’s theme - “Body as Muse” - left a variety of options for how attendees could interpret the prompt. Theo, for example, wore a piece from Alexander McQueen’s  Anatomy ii collection - a one-sleeved gown made of sheer white tulle, the bodice and singular sleeve covered with intricate silver beading that depicted medical textbook-style illustrations of the female anatomy, while the skirt featured layers of gathered tulle that gave the overall piece a breezy, almost ethereal feel with every movement. 

Others took a more subtle approach: at first glance, the brocade of Loki’s suit appeared to be nothing more than a random print; however, upon closer inspection, the pattern depicted lotus imagery inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe paintings - long thought to be representations of the female anatomy, despite O’Keeffe’s denials of the connection. Regardless, flowers had a long history of affiliation with the female form; in Egyptian and Indian mythology, the lotus had very direct associations with female anatomy, so the suit still fit the theme.

Seeing red flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (it's a sure sign) Where do I begin, I can't explain it Now you're wasted How could you let them do this to you?

From when they entered, it could have been some sort of fever dream: cocktails and passed appetizers as they toured the museum, passing through exhibitions with pauses for special entertainment in certain wings. Lush floral arrangements decorated the corridors and stairways, accented by soft uplighting that shifted tones based on the art in each respective gallery. Time passed in a blur of small talk and compliments interspersed with taking in the art around them. 

The only thing detracting from the fever dream was Chris.

He meant well. Of that, Theo was certain. 

But whenever Theo wanted to pause and really take in each piece of art, Chris wanted to find familiar faces and catch up; however, he insisted Theo accompany him. He never raised his voice or became aggressive, but the pleading tone and puppy dog eyes became more and more common as they continued through the museum.

The pleading became so incessant that Theo almost wished that their respective staff teams hadn’t planned for the pair to traverse the galleries together, relying on the dinner together to give the pair quality time together. 

Still, Theo did her best to grin and bear it, biting her tongue and smiling along when Chris ignored the multitude of masterpieces around them in favor of the hottest tiktok influencer. 

Once in a while, Theo looked around the room and caught Loki looking over at her. She almost wished he would swoop in and rescue her the way he had the first night, even if the thought made her a bad feminist. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before everyone was ushered in for dinner, and she wasn’t alone - Loki and Wanda were both seated at the same table, while many of the Avengers weren’t far off. 

Theo told herself that she’d visit the museum  to actually view the art some other day - until then, it was time to play the role of socialite, which meant getting through this dinner.

Going on a whim trying to erase it Leaving traces (Sweat, blood, and tears dry) Your head on the pavement, know you're jaded Sick of playing (Waiting up all night)

Amidst the din of conversation and clinking silverware, the power cut out.

Breathy gasps and murmured comments rippled through the room. No one moved, wondering if the sudden darkness was meant to announce the night’s entertainment.

The only source of light in the room came from the electric candles in the centerpieces of the tables, which did little to offset the vast darkness of the massive room. 

From the corner of her eye, Theo spotted a pair of event staffers frantically running around the outskirts of the room.

“I don’t think this is intentional,” Theo warned, locking eyes with Loki and Wanda. “Something’s wrong.” 

Theo, Loki, and Wanda slowly rose to their, cradling orbs of light in hand as they searched for any clues about what was wrong.

The clang of metal against metal rang out, followed by heavy footsteps pounding against the ground at a furious pace; they stopped with a halt, interrupted by a heavy thud. 

Barely visible in the dark, Theo made out the vague silhouettes of the other Avengers standing at attention. 

Around the room, the guests remained in their seats, whispers of panic growing into a frenetic buzz as they desperately looked around for the source of what caused the disturbance while they struggled to adjust to the lack of light.

Bracing herself for the worst, Theo flicked her wrists, runes briefly flashing on each arm before her gown disappeared in a cosmic swirl, replaced by the armor Shuri crafted for her. 

A dark form slithered past, just skirting Theo’s line of sight, followed by a second.

“Shadow creatures!”

Theo barely managed to force the words out of her mouth before a gust of arctic air rushed past her, accompanied by a dark, sinewy limb that swallowed any trace of magical light. 

Chaos erupted. 

From the darkness, a barrage of shadow creatures descended upon the room. 

Guests knocked over chairs as they rushed for the exits, screaming and colliding with each other as they failed to navigate the gallery in the dark.

The creatures gave chase, tendrils of pitch black lashing out in every direction as if their sole intent was to destroy everything in sight. 

Theo made a beeline towards the exit. No stranger to mass casualty incidents, she knew that any bottlenecks would be a prime opportunity for shadow creatures to attack and maximize casualties. The best way to prevent the damage would be to monitor the exits.

She darted between people, climbing across overturned chairs and jumping from table to table when it was impossible to push through the crowd.

As she ran, Theo conjured up an entire galaxy’s worth of stars that floated overhead. With a sharp wave, they shot ahead to illuminate the path to the exit.

No longer obscured by the dark, a collection of shadow creatures situated in prime striking distance of the exit snarled, preparing to attack. 

“Doors!” She shouted, hoping any one of her teammates would know what she meant.

“On it—“ Tony, already in his Iron Man suit, zipped past overhead, hands outstretched as he fired a pair of blasts at the creatures.

The blasts landed right on target, making contact with the two creatures closest to the door. With a sharp, grating cry, they collapsed into nothing more than a pile of dust.

“We need to secure exits and evacuate civilians—“ Steve commanded, the comm in Theo’s suit making it sound like Steve was beside her. 

“We’re already on it,” Theo confirmed, using both hands to reshape the galaxy so it formed a protective tunnel around the exit. A shadow creature tried to launch itself through one side of the tunnel, only to disintegrate upon contact. 

At another exit, Wanda took a similar approach, leaving the others to guide the guests to the exit and go on the offensive. 

“There are a lot more of these things than usual,” Sam complained, whizzing around the room as he rained fire on the seemingly endless stream of creatures.

“They’re coming from deeper in the museum,” Loki observed, slicing through a beast with an enchanted daggers just before it landed a blow on Shuri. 

Theo glanced back, scanning the room to get a read on the situation. 

“We need to take them out at the source–” Natasha started, only to be interrupted by Bucky. “What the hell are those?” 

“What do you see?” Theo followed up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she craned her neck in a futile attempt to get a look.

“They’re like shadow people, but their eyes are glowing!”

“How many?” 

“5 or 6–”

“Someone cover this exit,” Theo demanded, “I’m coming!” 

As if anticipating Theo’s response, Strange appeared beside her, silently nodding at her to go. 

Throwing white flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (It's a sure fire) Going on a whim, try to erase it All the traces How could you let them do this to you?

Theo didn’t have to go far to find the answer to her question. Standing behind the closest horde of Shadow creatures were a group of humanoid creatures, composed of shadow except for the black clocks that hid their faces. True to Bucky’s description, the only visible feature happened to be their eyes, which glowed a sort of octarine color that Theo hadn’t seen since her time on Aneterra.

Ice shot through her veins. 

At the sight of Theo, one waved an arm; with a tendril of smoke, they called back the shadow creatures, leaving nothing but an empty hallway between the Avengers and the shadowed beings. Only the emergency lights provided any reprieve from the near-overwhelming darkness.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded, taking one step towards the beings.

They stepped back, but did not speak.

Steve took a second step forward, observing the figures for any sign that they might attack.

The same figure that dispelled the creatures extended an arm, curling a finger towards the group as a silent challenge. 

“Enough of this–” Tony flew towards the group; like a flock of startled birds, they scattered in different directions, teleporting between shadows to expedite their retreat. “Split up and track them down!” Steve didn’t even finish the command before Theo herself turned to shadow and gave chase.

Up the main staircase, around the corner, sprinting through room after room and occasionally using the shadows as a shortcut, Theo and the shadow being played a game of cat and mouse: the figure remained just far enough that Theo could catch a glimpse and not lose track, but the moment Theo drew near they pulled some sort of maneuver to distance themselves and keep the game going.

Somewhere in the modern art gallery, Theo took a corner too quickly and stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees with a grunt. The brief slip-up was all it took for her to lose sight of the figure.

“Fuck!” Without anyone around, Theo’s curse echoed through the empty gallery. She sat back on her knees, struggling to catch her breath as she wracked her mind for what to do.

After drawing a blank, Theo brought one hand to her ear, pressing on her comm. “Guys, I lost–”

“Ah, the Silver Shadow…” A deep voice interrupted; Theo whipped around, eyes skittering about the gallery as she failed to place the sound. 

“... I’ve heard much about you.”

Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse... How could you let them do this to you?

Unable to see the owner of the voice, the faintest gust of cold air and a sharp movement from the edge of Theo’s peripheral vision was the only warning Theo received before a blur of darkness careened towards her in some sort of an attack. 

She rolled to the side, barely escaping as what looked like some sort of blade slammed into the ground. Theo teleported backwards, rising to her feet and conjuring her blade. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Before Theo stood the figure that she assumed she had lost. With a curl of their fingers, they transformed before Theo’s eyes into a person. The cloak remained, obscuring everything except for the same eyes that glowed with octarine light. In one hand they held a shadow blade not dissimilar to Theo’s. 

The mystery person stepped towards Theo, but did not answer Theo’s question. Instead, The shrill cry of security alarms filled the air, a sharp contrast to the eerily empty room they stood in.

“Who are you?” Theo repeated the question as she stepped back and scanned her surroundings. 

“I’m… a fan, shall we say…” The figure drawled, holding out their hands in a sort of shrug. Beneath the hood, Theo imagined they offered some sort of impish grin.  “... Or not. It doesn’t matter.”

“Ah, weaponizing my pride. Well played,” Theo dryly replied, preparing an orb of magic in her free hand as she circled her opponent. “Do you have a name?”

“Not that you need to know.”  In turn, the figure spun their blade in their hand, and braced for attack.

“Tall, dark, and spooky it is, then.” Theo taunted, pointing the tip of her blade at her opponent. “Okay, let’s get the whole Shakespearean monologue about my inevitable doom over with, shall we?”

Her enemy laughed. “If you’d like to rush your death, be my guest!” 

The figure charged forward, blade held high as they launched an attack. 

Theo leapt back, parrying the blow before landing a hit on the mystery figure’s side. “You must either be very brave or very stupid to face me alone.”

The figure hardly faltered, absorbing the blow as if it were nothing. 

This wasn’t a normal person.

As the figure stumbled, they raised a hand and shot a ray of black electricity forward, hitting Theo. 

She froze, muscles tense as searing bolts of electricity tore through her body; as quickly as it started, it stopped, and Theo crumpled to the floor.

“You’re a spellcaster–” Theo choked out, pain ricocheting through her limbs as she pressed herself to her hands and knees. “... Should have seen that coming.” 

“That’s far from our only similarity,” The figure observed, tilting its head to the side as it waited for Theo’s next move. “For someone who is a sciondéité, you certainly aren’t the challenge I expected.” 

They knew.

It wasn’t the first time someone tried to use her identity against her and get into her head, but it certainly had been long enough that the comment caught her off guard, particularly with the circumstances. However, the other person failed to account for one important detail: Theo loved nothing more than proving people wrong.

Pulling herself back to her feet, Theo took advantage of the pause to conjure a collection of stars above her head. 

Theo charged forward and resumed the duel, firing the first of the stars at the figure as she took a swing.

They avoided Theo’s blade, but cried out as the star slashed their skin, drops of blood glistening against the stone floor. 

With a snarl, they brought their blade around in a dramatic swing, only to be blocked by Theo; they parried Theo’s next hit, then slashed Theo’s other shoulder.

“Rude - this is a new suit!” Theo hissed as white hot pain rushed through her arm. She lunged forward and continued to attack her opponent, landing one hit before spinning behind them and slicing into their other arm. 

The figure staggered back, only pausing for a moment before they charged back into the fight.

This time, Theo blocked both the distraction strike and the actual hit.

Her opponent hadn’t even finished their swing before Theo sent another pair of stars at the figure, both of which sliced the figures’ legs.

With her foe distracted by trying to catch their balance, Theo shot an arm out and snatched their arm. She clenched her jaw as a series of runes slithered off of her hand, weaving together into an intricate pattern of black and white that surrounded her opponent. 

“This has been a delightful little game,” Theo drawled, “but I have better shit to do than stroke your fragile ego.”

Theo tightened her grip. Beneath her touch, the figure’s arm shriveled; if it weren’t for the being’s sleeve, Theo would have felt the flesh turn necrotic beneath her touch, watching in the dim light as it turned black and rotted away, while the wound on Theo’s arm stitched itself back shut. 

The energy stolen from Theo’s opponent would not be enough to heal her by any means, but enough to ensure she could make the most of the situation. The logical part of Theo’s mind insisted that she ought to just kill this person outright, but the comment about Theo’s identity unleashed a special kind of monster within, and she wanted answers. 

“You’re debating whether to kill me--” The figure taunted, wrenching itself free from Theo’s grasp before launching into a series of swings and parries. Each fighter took as many hits as they blocked. “You want to know who I am though, so it’s stopping you.” 

“Aren’t you clever,” Theo wryly observed, flipping back over the last swing as she cast a magical restraint around the person’s feet. As she landed, she dropped into a crouch and swept her leg around, knocking them off balance. 

Before her opponent could hit the ground, they teleported. 

“The shadow creatures were the warm-up act, but you were the real show - at least, that’s what you’d like to think–” Theo whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of the figure swinging down, striking her collarbone. 

Theo barely hit the ground before a foot came crashing into her side, knocking the air out of her. “I doubt you’ll live long enough to see the grand finale.”

From where she laid on the ground, an unsettling heat radiated through her body. Though unpleasant, Theo recognized the sensation - an enchanted blow, a move Theo used quite often. If she moved before breaking the spell, she’d be in a world of hurt. 

With a flick of her wrist, Theo silently removed the enchantment. The moment the heat dissipated, she staggered to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she faced her opponent. 

“A grand finale?” Theo inquired, tilting her neck side to side as she stretched the muscles. “Do tell…”

The figure simply curled their finger at her, an invitation to attack. 

Barreling forward, Theo landed a slice into their side as they managed to land a punch on her face. 

Both parties stumbled backwards, panting heavily as they glared at each other. A metallic, tangy taste flooded Theo’s mouth. 

“Who are you?” Theo pressed another time, this time far sharper than before.

“Apparently more of a threat than you thought,” they sneered, smirking despite the blood dripping from their body and their haggard posture.

“I’m done playing,” Theo warned. She turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, then brought her attention back to the figure and stepped closer. “This can go one of two ways - you tell me who you are and who sent you, and I’ll make your death short and painless. Or, you say nothing, and I will make you endure pain like you’ve never felt, drawn out until your dying breath.”

“I would die a martyr,” they replied, mimicking Theo’s motions; despite their words, the faintest trace of fear lurked in their eyes.

Theo dispelled her blade. With a sharp breath, Theo cupped her hands, the runes on her arms transforming into miniature constellations that she cradled in each hand. “If that’s your decision, I’m going to ensure your life is put to far better use than whatever you think you’re dying for.”

Two clusters of tendrils shot out from Theo’s hands. The first launched wrapped around the figure, overpowering her opponent and pulling them close, while the second dispersed itself into the environment around her, creating a protective barrier. 

“Here’s the thing--” Venom dripped from Theo’s words as the figure struggled to free itself from her grip. “Your buddies have been killing innocent people, and not only did you ruin my date, you’re interrupting my time to heal people that were caught in the crossfire.” 

The enemy fought harder, howling with pain as they were crushed by the tendrils; Theo simply tightened the tendrils around them. A devilish smile curled over Theo’s lips as she felt the life drain from her enemy. 

“I warned you that fighting me was foolish, and you ignored me,” Theo hissed, pulling the figure close enough to spit a second mouthful of blood at them. “However, if you really know me, you know what I’m capable of - and charging in here, pissing me off, and hurting people I care about - that was perhaps one of the most idiotic things you could possibly do. I can, and will, make you suffer. And whoever sent you, I will find them, and I will make them pay.”

The shrieks grew louder as more life drained from the figure. As they writhed in the air, Theo directed the stars she previously conjured to swarm around her enemy, slicing into their limbs just deep enough to be violently uncomfortable without being lethal. 

Frankly, Theo wasn’t interested in damage - they would die soon enough. 

No, she wanted whoever this was to suffer. 

Wrapping the tendril of magic around the figure’s face, Theo muffled their screams. A sick sort of joy filled Theo as she watched her attacker lose the vigor they’d previously fought with, to the point where they could barely move. 

“I thank you for your cooperation.” With one final push, Theo drained the last of the life from the figure. 

Even after the figure’s eyes rolled back and they ceased moving, Theo waited a moment before dropping the spell.

The moment the tendrils recoiled into Theo’s hands, she felt the consequences of her recklessness. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, while her stomach churned in the sort of way where she knew that if she even looked at food, she would be sick. 

Theo hunched over, bracing her hands on her knees and forcing herself to take in a deep breath. Realistically, her head probably hurt from being punched, but the voice of reason in Theo’s mind pointed out that the area where she had been punched wasn’t what hurt so damn bad. 

With a shaking hand, Theo reached up to activate her comms and check in with the others, only to find it had fallen out at some point. No matter - they’d come looking for her eventually.

While she waited, she figured it was worth learning a bit more about who exactly came after her. 

Theo cautiously approached the body of the mysterious figure.

The crumpled heap of a corpse laid face-down, cloak spread wide as if covering the carnage beneath. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Theo kicked the lump to try to roll it over, only to hiss at the pain from her foot against the surprisingly dense body. 

Regrouping her efforts, Theo carefully pressed the bottom of her foot against what felt like a shoulder, then pushed until it flopped onto its back. The hood of the cloak fell back. Spider-like black veins marred its sickly complexion, to the extent that Theo could have spotted every capillary. She combed over the rest of the corpse, not entirely expecting to find anything; yet, one look at their hands stopped Theo cold in her tracks.

Their hands contained a series of intricate tattoos of runes, rings, and lines. Theo didn’t recognize this pattern specifically, but there was enough overlap with the designs that she did know for her to have a pretty strong idea how they might be connected. 

A chill shot down her spine, invisible vise tightening around her chest as the throbbing in her head intensified..

…”Theo? Theo, are you here?!”

Multiple voices calling for Theo, paired with thundering feet against stone floors, pulled Theo back to the present.

“I’m in here!” Theo called over her shoulder, her voice cracking on the word ‘here. Theo shook her head and blinked a couple times to try and clear her head; she may have been new to the Avengers, but she knew they’d have questions when they finally arrived.

A buzzing sound filled the air; moments later, the lights flickered, staying on. Unfortunately, Theo barely had a moment to take in her attacker beneath the lights before the sound of footsteps and voices suddenly came to a halt. 

“..Holy shit.”

When Theo turned towards the voice, she found Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Loki all staring at her, her wide-eyed and slack jawed as they took in the aftermath of the fight.

As Theo stared back, nothing but the sound of alarms and heavy breathing filled the room. Theo’s heart pounded in her ears, but she knew better than to think anyone else could hear that.

“Hey, quick question,” Tony finally broke the silence, attention flitting between Theo and the rest of the gallery. “What the fuck happened here?”

Feeling something warm dripping down her face, Theo reached up and wiped her nose; she  pulled her hand away to find a smudge of something dark came with it. She hadn’t been hit in the nose - another sign she had overexerted herself. 

“Someone tried to kill me, obviously.” Theo dryly answered, rolling her eyes. “Are you all okay?”

Natasha nodded dumbly, eyes wide as she took in sight of Theo.

“Why do you look like shit?” Bucky blurted out, narrowing his eyes at Theo. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Theo muttered, pinching her nose in an attempt to stop some of the bleeding. Every word may as well have been a pickaxe against her skull; it took every ounce of Theo’s composure not to let her misery show. When she received nothing more than arched brows, wide eyes, and silence from the rest of the team, Theo spoke up once more. “What, is there something on my face?” 

The question was meant to be sarcastic, knowing full-well that she had a bloody nose and a gash on her collarbone, among other things, but also break the awkward silence. 

“Yeah, blood.” Bucky shot back, mimicking Theo’s sarcasm. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Theo couldn’t help the smirk that came up from Bucky’s retort, though she winced as her head throbbed. Behind him, she caught sight of a familiar painting that had been slashed in the fighting…

There were many things Theo could tolerate, but destroying art was not one of them. 

“Well I’m going to fix that painting quickly before we go.” Theo briskly stepped past the others, blatantly ignoring the way they all stared at her as though she had a third head. 

Ignoring the stares was easier said than done, given how exposed she felt and the sinking feeling from seeing the hand tattoos, but stubborn pride meant she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“You’re going to ignore what happened here?” Steve gestured to the room, openly flabbergasted by Theo’s statement.

Theo back, turned, scanning the surroundings. Amidst the knocked over podiums, streaks and splatters of deep red already started to turn brown all around the room; between the darkness and the focus on her opponent, Theo hadn’t even realized the mess she made. If she was entirely honest, she wasn’t even sure how much was hers and how much was the other person’s blood. 

Either way, she wasn’t keen to have the conversation that she suspected Steve wanted to have - this person clearly came after Theo. It’s not her fault things had to get bloody.

Waving one hand, a mist of white settled over the room, cleaning up the mess and sending a particularly vicious throb of pain through Theo’s head.

Theo turned back to Steve, pausing to give him the most sardonic expression she could manage as she replied: “Talking about this is a tomorrow problem. I have bigger priorities.” 

Steve didn’t say anything else, allowing Theo to pass by unchecked. 

Once Theo stood close enough to touch the painting in question, she held up one hand, a thin wisp of white emerging from her palm as she began to reconnect the canvas where it was sliced.

Loki cautiously sidled up to Theo, moving in a way that reminded Theo of how someone might approach an aggressive dog. In contrast, the way he studied Theo instead of the painting felt far too intentional for anyone’s good. 

“You need medical attention.” Loki made the comment with a brusque sort of detachment that Theo almost appreciated, were it not for the fact that he continued to dissect her beneath his gaze.

“I’m fine.” Theo huffed, refusing to look at Loki.

“Should I be concerned that you are more focused on repairing a painting than caring for yourself?” 

“I’ll be fine - nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Theo retorted, trying to ignore the pain coursing through her head. “The painting, however,  can’t repair itself.” 

From the corner of Theo’s eye, Loki scowled; he shifted his weight between both legs as he ran one hand through his hair. “You couldn’t do both?”

“No.” Theo simply answered, not even looking away from the painting. She wasn’t about to get into the fact she already overexerted herself and was still overexerting herself to fix a painting - that would certainly piss him off.

“Given your response to Rogers, I’m assuming you’d rather not discuss what led to your current state?” 

“Wow, you are just full of astute observations.” Theo shot a withering glare his way before returning her focus to the painting. 

The longer he distracted her, the longer it would take to finish fixing the art, and the longer it would take before she could go home and try to forget about what happened, so she needed Loki to at least shut up for a minute. 

Loki was no fool - though he stayed firmly by her side, he didn’t say another word until Theo finished repairing the painting.

“The painting - it reminds me of the art in your quarters…” Unlike his previous statement, this time Loki took a much softer tone, observational and almost amiable.

Something soft twisted in Theo’s chest.

“It's Van Gogh…” Theo looked up at the painting - Portrait of Joseph Roulin - and smiled.  “Nice to see one in the flesh.” 

“You mentioned him previously–” Loki commented, glancing at Theo with an arched brow. “– A favorite, if I remember correctly.”

Theo couldn’t completely bite back the smile that came from realizing Loki made a point to remember her favorite artist. “Yeah, he’s my favorite.”

“What draws you to his work?” 

“He’s one of the defining artists of post-impressionism. He reimagined the way we see and use color; how we look at light and dark.” Theo moved closer, examining the spot she repaired. “Using blues and pinks in a beard to convey highlights and depth like this? Not a thing before. And yet, it still conveys the image without disrupting the brain’s ability to process what it is.” 

Loki hummed, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the area of the painting Theo had pointed to while mulling over the answer.

“I wish we had more time to actually look at the art tonight...” Theo stepped back from the painting, letting out a sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at the others. “Then again, I wish the night hadn’t been completely derailed by fucking shadow creatures. But that’s just how it goes when you’re an Avenger, I guess.”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll have to return, simply for our own enjoyment.” Loki mused, offering a hesitant smile to the sorceress. 

“Sounds fun.” She nodded, giving him a tired smile in return. As much as she liked the idea of a trip to the museum, she knew she needed to check in on the emergency response and make sure anyone who was injured received proper medical attention. That wasn’t even considering how she should probably find Chris and make sure he was alright. But at the end of the day, all she really wanted to do was go home, shower, take some aleve, sleep, and try to forget what she just saw. 

Or, if nothing else, brace herself for what was to come.

How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it

[star-going-supernova]

Got an idea and I'm interested in seeing what you do with a prompt like this.

FNAF SB is definitely future time, so the digital world implants are actually more common than just private Fazbear Tech. So Gregory already has his own chip (that he uses to play games on mostly) when he gets stuck in the Pizzaplex, and being the little gremlin he is, he hacked it to allow him access to V.A.N.N.I. network and all the shenanigans he can do with it without needing a full mask.

This is a sci-fi sort of AU where implants just exist and are pretty common, and they have a variety of uses, one of which includes using similar “short cuts” as seen through the mask in Ruin. 

The Tormenting of Moon

Moon growled and lunged for Gregory for the fifth time in as many minutes, but Gregory only laughed and, from Moon’s perspective, passed straight through a section of netting on the play structure. Safe on the other side, Gregory cried, “Too slow again!” 

He took off into the twisting halls of colorful plastic and foam, delighting in Moon’s howl of frustration. 

“How are you doing that?” Moon shouted with his raspy, glitchy voice. 

“It’s not my fault if you can’t figure it out!” 

To be fair to Moon, Gregory having an implant wouldn’t be anyone’s first thought. Legally speaking, a person had to be sixteen or older to have a permanent one surgically grafted to their brain stem. And the removable types for anyone younger or those who didn’t want an internal chip were usually in the form of glasses, masks, and visors—none of which Gregory had. 

So, to Gregory, Moon wasn’t an idiot for not catching on. But he was maybe a bit naive and unobservant. The scar on the back of Gregory’s neck wasn’t exactly subtle and neat and professionally done—rather, it was raised and jagged and far bigger than a real doctor would ever make for a chip placement. 

But hey, there was a black market for everything, even if you were only twelve years old. And implants were too handy for Gregory not to make use of.

Switching his perception back and forth between Standard and Network, Gregory wove through the play structure, always keeping well ahead of Moon’s grasping fingers. He’d always enjoyed a challenge, and this was pretty low-stakes for a chase. Like a slightly more intense game of tag. This wasn’t dangerous; it was fun. 

“Missed me, missed me!” he crowed, diving into the opening of a slide. He took the curves at high speed and shot out into the ball pit. Gregory quickly wormed his way to the bottom of the pit and did his best to slither along without making too much of a racket. With his implant, and the upgrades he helped himself to early on in the night, he tapped into the security cameras in the daycare. 

The night vision mode worked perfectly. He switched between views a few times before finding Moon. The animatronic was stalking back and forth along the edge of the ball pit, looking not unlike a cat who had lost its prey. He half expected Moon to dive headfirst into the pit like a fox into snow. 

Deeming himself far enough away from his pursuer, he carefully slinked up to the surface, only just barely poking out. The darkness provided helpful cover, and the obnoxious music masked the quiet rattling of plastic. 

He threw a ball as hard as he could, and a moment later, it clattered loudly on the other side of the pit. The shadow that was Moon ducked toward it, giving Gregory a chance to take up a more defensible position, tucked in a corner. 

And then, because he was an awful child, he carefully started tossing balls over the edge and into the rest of the daycare. They landed near silently on a padded mat and proceeded to roll down it to make quite a mess. Every now and then, he threw another decoy elsewhere in the pit to draw Moon’s attention, as he was currently swimming through the ball pit like a gangly shark. 

This went on for some time, and Gregory had to pause more and more often to smother his laughter into his shirt. 

Finally ready to reap the rewards of his troublemaking, Gregory boosted himself up onto the ledge and loudly declared, “Wow, what a mess!” 

Moon got as far as leaping to his feet in an explosion of plastic balls before he was rendered still and speechless, horrified by the disarray of his daycare. Over a hundred plastic balls lay scattered around the floor. 

His programming demanded he clean up. In his head, Sun wailed with the need to return order to their domain. Moon himself wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of the menace responsible. His head twitched and sparked. 

Cackling, Gregory climbed up a slide with little windows carved in the sides, and there he camped out to watch the animatronic have a mental break down. 

[agumonger]

look i'm sorry to say this due to the context at hand *gestures* and i know that hollywood is a cesspool of terrible human beings with terrible interests but yeah, i did. i did watch deadpool and wolverine

and i just

i can NOT stay silent about the sheer homoerotic tension between the two protagonists. they really took one of the most terminally straight, pent-up, macho and yet male-fantasy superheroes and played the fantasy completely straight, going all the way into insane fanservice. they saw the vision and they went for it

it's a testosterone filled movie, very manlike, very action-packed, hysterical as usual, very tryhard edgy but on purpose in a weird meta-ironic way, and i left the theater TERRIBLY HORNY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M S---

like you canNOT just fucking end the movie on a climatic scene where, not only does wolverine FINALLY don his iconic mask in a movie and look ridiculously hot in it (and the suit tbh) BUT in the peak of tension his clothes literally evaporate for no reason and you get SEVERAL shots of his glistening pecs and abs with glorious music bein all like "this is what you wanted" after like two hours of very much intentional homoerotic tension that you know isn't going to go anywhere bc wolverine is straight as hell (even though deadpool is most likely pan or whatever i can't tell)

EXCEPT SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOVIE THEY LIKE. UM?????????????? HAVE SEX???????????? BUT IT'S NOT SEX????????????? BUT IT IS??????????? HANG ON HANG ON

ok so like they're inside this car right... in the middle of a forest... no one's around... they get all deep and emotional and then they get super mad at each other and they start a super gory and violent fight and they thrash the car and it's all a terribly bloody mess and then the fucking Camera Pans Out And The Car Is Shaking Like They Were Doing The Thing and They stay Like That for The Entire Night and there's this weirdly sensual but hateful but playful energy all the way throughout and it's like IT'S SO CHAOTIC WHAT THE CAPITAL W WHAT

THEY BASICALLY MADE A HATE SEX SCENE THAT'S NOT A HATE SEX SCENE BUT IT IS

The whole movie seems to explore this complicated relationship we have with toxic masculinity in which we hate it and it's bad but it's also kind of weirdly sexy and hot but it's also ridiculous and and-

ARE YOU SEEING MY VISION

AND IT'S LIKE... THE STRAIGHT GUY AUDIENCE IS SO SILENT ABOUT THIS????? DO THEY NOT SEE IT... but again, it's marvel, it's disney, OF COURSE this movie is not queer at all

but it also kinda? sorta? is? maybe? because it's very clearly marketed at straight guys

but then they add these moments of sheer macho extravaganza where the unintentional eroticism of the testosterone induced madness teeters on the line between unintentional and intentional except it's very much intentional but it's also a joke

i have not once seen any comment about this movie being woke, and it isn't, don't get me wrong. but it has all of the elements that would make Those People cry "woke madness", just arranged in such a way that it's barely a joke even though they somehow managed to fit

what's 90% of the way into a hate sex scene featuring the two male protagonists but it isn't but it absolutely FEELS that way if you *Know*

a straight-up fan service scene that is every masked man fan's wet dream come true

i think they're not saying anything because the movie is very much celebrating that brand of masculinity so they're like "hell yeah" but it's just so... you know what i mean?

it makes me wonder how much homoeroticism can straight guys literally EAT UP as long as it's suposed to be "a joke" and "funny" and "ironic"

did i get queerbaited in 2024? well no. like i didn't really expect them to start dating at ALL (they didn't). but it's like. funny. i'm almost positive they wanted to dare a lot of the male audience to stay convinced they're straight and not have a single hard-on at any point during the movie. while at the same time steering clear of any accusations because "comedy guys!!!!!!!!!!!! so funny!!!! haha!!!" and yet no one says anything because if you do, oh maybe you're just projecting, are you gaaaaaaay?????

all i'm saying is the car scene was as hot as all hell and LOWKEY kind of a serve idek i'm tired my brain is tired i am not immune to queerbait propaganda take me boys i am Weak and painfully basic and cringe

but also i hate the uhhh two wokeness jokes in the movie they're stale and bad (though deadpool does use the singular they pronoun once without even flinching? "groundbreaking" i know i KNOW leave me aloneeeeee afknlzsgjsd)

sorry for saying anything good about mainstream media (you know why but mentioning it in this frivolous ass post just feels wrong)

anyway if you actually read this thank you and i'm sorry you had to experience this from me. here have a flowe 🌸

[llyncooljones]

on thin ice- twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist 

prompt: warming up during a cold night. word count: part three to who is he? and call me sir trigger warnings: language, tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @leiawritesstories @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

the ice rink, the early evening.

When Rowan had suggested they go ice skating, Aelin was all in. She was all too willing to go ice skating. To put blades on her fucking feet, and put said blades on the ice, and then balance on them, before moving around on them, above a substance that will break her nose should she fall onto it.

Yeah, for how cautious she was, she was all too eager to put aside every worry, and every horror story ice skating trip she’d ever heard of, in favour of going on a date with Rowan ‘call me sir’ Whitethorn. If anyone else were in her place, they’d make the exact same decision. She wouldn’t budge on that—it would always be a hill she’d happily die on.

What Aelin hadn’t considered—and the list was small, so very, very small—was where they’d be going ice skating. Aelin had thought that the ice rink, the one that’s erected each year at the Christmas Market, would be the location for their date.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Instead, Rowan had driven her to the high school—one of only two in the town, and the one she hadn’t attended—and parked around the back, sliding his truck through a narrow to ‘the one place here with no cameras’. She should have been concerned after hearing that, but she hadn’t been.

Visions of car sex had been spinning through her head.

What was not spinning through her head, at that moment, was running away from the security guard who’d been called out, on account of the alarm being tripped.

After all Rowan’s boasting, about how he had a key, and about how no one would ever know, because he snuck in here all the time and no one ever found him, or found out. After all that, he’d forgotten the message which had circulated his messages from other classmates, which stated the introduction of a security system due to how many people broke in, and used the ice rink for ‘improper activities’.

So now, here she was running across concrete with only socks on, cursing her date for all of this. Her ice skates were swinging from one hand—in fact, they were borrowed ice skates from the reserve the school had—and all the ways she could castrate a man with said ice skates ran through her mind.

He unlocked his truck as it came into view, slamming his door shut as he finally hauled himself up there. Aelin was already buckled in, wearing a look of murder she knew would kill. He didn’t notice, and she made sure her expression would eviscerate him, and burn him from the inside out.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You take me on a date, and then you have us chased out by a security guard? Get your priorities straight, Rowan, and don’t even consider me until you’ve got a date in mind that won’t involve the cops,” her arms rested across her chest, and she’d like to say it was an accident that it pushed her tits up, but that’d be lying, and she didn’t like liars.

So, sue her, she wanted to be sexually appealing to the guy who’d brought her to orgasm with his words on a fucking screen. She’d worn a thong and lace bra to go ice skating, and it wasn’t a fucking crime. It certainly hadn’t kept her warm like a cotton bra and little cotton boxer shorts would have done, but she was dedicated.

On their first date, only two days prior to this fucking disaster, she’d worn stilettos and a skirt in five degrees Celsius weather, if that didn’t scream commitment to sexuality and getting it on the first, she didn’t know what did.

But he hadn’t mentioned anything remotely sexual on their date, not mentioning their sexual roleplay via text, nor his apparent ‘sir’ kink. But Aelin didn’t blame him, she hadn’t wanted to discuss the depths of her kinks, the extent of her sexual deviancy with him on their first date, either.

So, she’d turned up to their second date in lingerie, having previously gotten herself off to their texts because she was a starved woman when it came to sex, and now she was debating if any of it had been worth it.

“You cannot be serious, right now? I had no idea this was going to happen, do you think I would’ve taken you here, risked your safety or your wellbeing, if I had any clue that we could have been caught.” He seemed angry, but Aelin was now staring out of the window, feeling a little bad.

“I’m sorry, it’s just. It’s been so difficult to have a connection between us, beyond a text chain. A text chain we haven’t even talked about yet. So, forgive me, if I’m not one hundred percent clear on what this relationship is. If this is even a relationship. Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind as well.” She tried to keep the anger from her tone, or the general irritation from her hand gestures, but some of it couldn’t help but seep through—like rainwater through the roof of an old convertible.

“You want to talk, simply? You just want to talk?” his tone was disbelieving, and Aelin wanted to dig deeper into it—an archaeologist who discovers something just as the light dies—find out why, why he found it so difficult to believe or to believe she simply wanted to talk their relationship through, confirm the page they were reading. Hell, confirm they were reading the same fucking book.

“Yes. Literally, all I want is for you to tell me where you see this going, for you to tell me if I should practise my pronunciation of ‘Whitethorn’ because I’m going to be putting ‘Mr’ in front of it constantly, or if I need to change your contact info from ‘sir’ to ‘don’t answer’. I don’t need to know anything beyond how interested you are in me, in pursuing us. Because I fucking want to see this go all the way, but if you don’t—”

“—I do. I’ve never told someone about the whole ‘sir’ thing before. I didn’t even mean for it to come out during our texts, one second it was all good, and the next I was being a creep, waiting for a message to pop up, telling me to go fuck myself. So, trust me when I say, I want to see this through. Because I’ve got some fucking connection to you, I trust you for some reason when we’ve interacted for a total of like four hours, so I’d fucking follow you over a cliff to find out what this is.”

Aelin felt her heart melt, felt herself sink into her seat, turn her head, meet his lips in a culmination of textual, sexual tension, and this trust, this innate, puzzling trust they had with each other. She felt warm, and cosy, even despite the chill which had followed them from the ice to the car. He warmed her from the inside out.

[canadianabroadvery]

 A truly bizarre and major product recall was when, in 1998, Sony had to withdraw from the market 700,000 cameras because they provided vision through clothes.

The camera was marketed as being able to shoot in the dark via night vision technology. This was achieved because this camera was sensitive to the infrared part of the light spectrum. It turns out that the engineers at Sony hadn’t tested this technology thoroughly enough by using it in the daylight. Soon after these devices reached consumers, they were operated also during the day, and the powerful technology that enabled night vision was able to discern through some types of clothes to see naked body parts, tattoos, and underwear.

Like in the above photo, this infrared camera worked better to see through thin, darker, close-to-skin clothing due to how the fabric didn’t absorb the infrared light spectrum. The best for that were swimming suits, and women photographed in some looked almost like they had no clothes on. Websites featuring images of women taken with this camera sprang out. It resulted in worldwide outrage and forced Sony to recall 700,000 of its DCR-HC20E devices. The company changed how the infrared cameras worked and returned them to consumers.

You have to wonder why SONY hadn't discovered the issue during product testing !

[gps-mea]

What Things You Should Bear In Mind While Buying The Dash Camera For Your Car

If you need to increase the car's security, you can install the dash camera. The dashboard cam is one of the popular vehicle security cameras, which is mounted on the rear and front of the car. This tool must face the road and will record the road while driving. Nowadays, many people are using two-wheelers and four-wheelers, which increases the chance of accidents. Installing the dash camera kuwait not only increases the safety of drivers but also lessens claims costs. In addition, it stores the video recorded in the cloud effortlessly. Therefore, you can use those videos as evidence whenever you want.

Why invest in a dash camera 

In recent times, there are numerous cameras for car recording, which have AI features. Dash camera is equipped with a GPS device, which aids you in finding the accurate location of your car effortlessly. Besides, the advanced dash cam can turn on if the car is knocked when in the parking area. It enables the vehicle owner to catch culprits who scratch their car. When you invest your money in the dash camera for your vehicle, you can stay in peace of mind. 

The camera comes with Wifi support that lets the user adjust the settings through a mobile phone. With the help of a dash cam, you can collect evidence against rash driving and road rage. In addition, the dash camera helps to lessen the insurance premium and also protects the vehicle. The driver can use this camera to maintain the car insurance policy at a reasonable price.  

Things to consider while buying a dash camera 

Buying the dash cam for a car in kuwait can be time-consuming for the new driver. Today, there are different kinds of dash cameras in the market, such as connected cameras, SD cams, and external cams. You can select the most excellent dash camera for your vehicle by considering important aspects. Here are some things to keep in mind when purchasing the dash camera. 

Checking the resolution and display is essential before selecting the dash cam. It comes with a parking mode that helps to safeguard the vehicle. If the camera has high resolution, it provides you with excellent clarity. 

It is essential to check whether the camera has a night version and IR. If the camera has low visibility, you don’t obtain a clear recorded video. Therefore, you should select a dash camera with night vision that records videos in low-light conditions. 

Remember to look out for the angle coverage because it can capture videos and pictures clearly. You can go with the dash camera at 120 or 180 degrees for better clarity. 

Also, the vehicle owner must pay attention to the G-sensor in the dash camera. If you park your vehicle, the dash camera may go into the standby form and get activated while detecting the motion. Therefore, you don’t want to worry about the safety of your vehicle. G-sensor informs you instantly if anyone damages your car. 

You can compare the cost of dash cameras from various suppliers that help you to buy a dash cam without breaking your financial plan. It has amazing features that boost the security of your car.

[cubeghost]

While Palestine Action US is targeting Elbit systems to protest the ongoing genocide in Palestine, Elbit’s tools of occupation are also being deployed in the US. As Antony Loewenstein documents in his book, The Palestine Laboratory, Israeli defense contractors test their wares on Palestinians and then export their tools of surveillance and warfare around the world. Loewenstein highlights the connection between so-called border security in the US and the oppression of Palestinians, writing, “Israeli technology was sold as the solution to unwanted populations at the US–Mexico border where the Israeli company Elbit was a major player in repelling migrants.” In her book Border and Rule: Global Migration, Capitalism, and the Rise of Racist Nationalism, Harsha Walia describes how US Customs Enforcement officials impose the violence of bordering on Tohono O’odham lands, along the US Southern border. Walia wrote, “US Customs and Border Protection (CBP) has contracted Israel’s largest private arms company, Elbit Systems, to construct ten surveillance towers, making Tohono O’odham one of the most militarized communities in the US.”  In 2017, members of the Tohono O’odham Hemajkam Rights Network (TOHRN), went to Palestine on a visit organized by the Palestinian group Stop the Wall. TOHRN member Amy Jaun told Antony Loewenstein that it was a relief to talk “with people who understand our fears … who are dealing with militarization and technology.” In 2022, after years of resistance from Tohono O’odham organizers, the construction of the contested surveillance towers was completed. As Will Parrish reported in The Intercept in 2019, each tower is outfitted with thermal sensors, high-definition cameras with night vision, and ground-sweeping radar. As Parrish noted, “The system will store an archive with the ability to rewind and track individuals’ movements across time — an ability known as ‘wide-area persistent surveillance.’” The  Tohono O’odham’s struggle against the construction of Elbit’s towers is just one example of how the company is exporting Israel’s tools of bordering and occupation. In The Palestine Laboratory, Loewenstein describes an event at the Paris Air Show in 2009, where Elbit screened drone footage for “an elite audience of global buyers.” The footage showcased the assassination of a Palestinian. A subsequent investigation by Andrew Feinstein, a global expert on the arms industry, who observed the sales video pitch in Paris, revealed that innocent Palestinians, including women and children, were killed during the drone attack that Elbit showcased at the Paris Air Show. Feinstein told Loewenstein, “This was my introduction to the Israeli arms industry and the way it markets itself. No other arms-producing country would dare show actual footage like that.” As evidenced by the construction of surveillance towers in Tohono O’odham lands, Elbit’s work extends beyond the bounds of war, but the lines between war-making, surveillance and what governments call “security” are murky, at best. When tools of war and subjugation are tested on a captive population, and marketed on the basis of how effectively those people are killed, how do we expect those tools to be deployed globally? 

[sonofashipscat]

Robocop Legacy Sequel idea:

Retired Detroit Police Captain Alex Murphy (played by Peter Weller) goes about his days in the peaceful suburb of Delta Acres. He has a good but lonely life, dutifully taking his meds, tending to his small house, reading history books, playing checkers with his neighbors, and watching the boring local news each night. He goes to the market for a ham and swiss on rye each Thursday and catches a western at the theater (there's always a new western, sometimes a sci fi movie but he doesn't like those as much). He knows all of his neighbors' names, throughout the whole town, and is friendly with all of them. They all live alone in small, tidy homes, just like him. "Delta Acres: You Belong Here," the signs all say, and truly, it feels that way.

Wherever you are in town, you can see the looming towers of Old Detroit way off in the distance, but none of the problems of the big city seem to make it out here. All anyone hears about the state of Detroit these days comes from the late night news, and they like it that way.

Murphy's policing days are far behind him now, a former life full of proud and bitter memories. His mantel is lined with pictures and newspaper clippings documenting his decorated career and achievements, his partner Anne who died in the line of duty, even a key to the city. There are no pictures of a wife or children. He does not own a gun. He lives alone.

At night Murphy dreams of steel and oil, the smell of human filth and burning trash, waves of police sirens punctuated by bullets, and always, always, frigid cold numbing his body. He urges his body to run, but can only stiffly walk through the maze-like alleys and sewers of a frozen, burning city. These nightmares fade each morning.

He visits Anne's grave. He speaks aloud, apologizing to Anne not for what happened, but for not being able to remember what happened. Ever since the accident that took him off the beat he's had memory problems, but lately they seem to be getting much worse. Must be getting old, he says.

When a townsperson approaches Murphy at the cemetery, he suffers a sudden episode: his vision goes red, and he sees flashes of brutal, sadistic crimes alongside his smiling, gentle friend. Murphy's hand reaches down to his thigh, past where he used to keep his service piece. He regains composure and excuses himself.

As he tries to go about his day, everywhere he turns he sees a list of crimes and convictions surrounding the peaceful, friendly townsfolk he's known for years. Strange shapes and angles highlight possible threats, forcing a hypervigilance that he's tried to suppress. He ducks into a theater to hide from the faces and hallucinations. A western is playing (there's always a western), it's right at the moment the villain has his gun drawn on his hostages. The gun points straight at the camera, at the audience. Murphy rises from seat and declares in a rigid voice: "Dead or alive, you're coming with me" before unleashing a hail of bullets from an enormous weapon into the screen. As the audience runs screaming from the theater, Murphy looks down to see no weapon in his hand.

He flees the theater and ducks into a phonebooth where he dials the police to turn himself in. He realizes he's talking to a recording. As he hangs up the phone and frantically looks around, the phone rings. He picks up, and a familiar voice tells him, "Murphy, go home."

Avoiding his neighbors, Murphy gets home and goes to lock his doors, only to realize there are no locks. He closes the blinds and turns on the TV to see what the news is reporting about his incident. The friendly anchorwoman states that a projection accident caused a scene at the cinema earlier today, but luckily no one was hurt. She then directly addresses Murphy, asking him to please sit down. She explains that he's having a breakdown of his systems, but they have a solution. She begins,

"In 2043, DPD Officer Alex Murphy was killed in the line of duty. His remains and likeness were acquired by Omni Consumer Products, who used them in the creation of their cybernetic policing solution, Robocop. Robocop was in service for 17 years, outliving OCP who was bought out and dissolved, before falling into disrepair and legal limbo. Portions of OCP were acquired and restructured into Aligned Correctional Solutions (ACS), including Robocop's non-functioning chassis, hibernating CPU, and Murphy's organic components, moth-balled in cold storage.

"It is now 2076. ACS is the fore-runner in virtual space correctional facility innovations, seeking to solve the problems of housing, security, and rehabilitation of criminals and the socially ill through the application of direct neural interfacing with a curated, morally supportive artificial environment. This endeavor has not been without setbacks. Previous simulations failed due to flaws in the morality framework undergirding the shared reality of the inmates. Too rigid a framework suppressed their psyches, causing them to atrophy into a vegetative state. Too loose a framework allowed mental instabilities to create a feedback loop of psychosis, permanently corrupting the minds of inmates past the point of recovery and crashing the system.

"To date, Robocop is the only successful instance of a stable, cybernetic morality program. It was the decision of Dr. Menos, myself, to leverage Robocop's still functioning CPU to serve as the morality framework in our latest simulation. Robocop's OS and hardware are severely deprecated, however, and are limited by proprietary OCP protocols and substantial damage from time in the field. In addition, the organic components of Robocop, which are critical to its functionality in ways we do not fully understand, are aging and degraded. Nevertheless, the simulation we constructed using Robocop's brain as a morality loop, this very simulation, is the first fully stable and promising simulation we've run.

"You, the Alex Murphy to whom I am speaking, are a construct pieced together by whatever remains of the original Alex Murphy's personality inside the cybernetic systems of Robocop. You were an unexpected element that emerged from this simulation. You cannot be removed or altered. You are not just a ghost in the machine, you are the center of this reality. The town, the attitudes of your neighbors, the quality of life here, is not simply what you want, it's what you think is right. And Murphy: it's wonderful.

"This place was created to be a prison with no warden, but you appeared and have made it a home. Your neighbors, each of whom once had a life as a dangerous, irredeemable criminal and danger to society, are living peacefully and happily under the influence of your moral center and worldview. This world is a better place with you here, and in turn you are making our world, the real world, a better place. Where Robocop failed, you have succeeded.

"But some of your systems are breaking down. The original OCP programming is leaking into your experience. You were not meant to see the data on the inmates in this world, only their new, improved selves. The project is at a critical point right now, Murphy. I won't lie to you, this is the last round of funding ACS has, and if the system crashes, the 1000 minds that are plugged into this simulation could go down with it.

"Robocop is failing. We cannot restore him. He cannot operate independently of this system. But the data we have collected from this simulation is significant, and we will be able to compile a fully digital emulation of Robocop's morality programming soon. You, the Alex Murphy created by and now supporting this simulation, cannot exist outside of it, nor would you want to; the world outside is hell. This place is your reward as well as your responsibility. I am sorry that we could not keep you safe and happy here until the end. You deserve nothing less than peace and rest. But if you can hold on and cooperate with us for just a short while longer, we can give you what the real Alex Murphy never got: you can die as a man and finally rest, while your legacy lives on forever as the greatest cop in history.

"You belong here. All you have to do is comply."

ROBOCOP: MURPHY'S LAW