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[mariasont]

Ours Minds Entwined----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Spencer Reid x Original Character x Aaron Hotchner

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter Three:

The precinct doors swung open, admitting the BAU team into a world where the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the buzz of fluorescent lights. The local officers, scattered like leaves, paused mid-motion their gazes drawn at the badged newcomers. Among them, the chief stood out, his shoulders bearing the slump of defeat.

Evelyn stepped through the threshold, her arrival stirring the calm atmosphere as subtly as a breeze disturbs a tranquil pond. The male officers couldn't help but glance up from their desks, their conversations trailing off as they took in her confident stride and bright energy she carried like a torch. She was oblivious to the subtle shifts in posture, the stolen glances that followed her path to the map.

Hotchner's gaze, sharp and discerning, caught the brief interplay of looks, a silent conversation in the language of glances. Beside him, Reid's observation was more analytical, noting the dynamics without judgment, his mind already cataloging and discarding the information as irrelevant to the task at hand.

Hotchner's voice cut through the low buzz of the precinct, clear and authoritative. "We're here to assist, not take over. Your insights are invaluable." His words were a bridge, extending partnership to the weary officers.

The chief, a grizzled veteran with eyes that had seen too much, stepped forward to greet them. "We're at a dead end," he admitted, shaking Hotchner's hand with a grip that spoke of desperation. "This guy is thorough, leaves no trace."

Reid, his eyes sharp behind the lenses of his glasses, peered over the crime scene photos scattered across the table. "Has there been any consistency in the locations of the attacks?" he asked, his mind already sifting through the data like a codebreaker.

A detective, her badge dulled by the dust of the chase, shook her head. "All within a ten-mile radius, but no specific pattern. Random as far as we can tell."

Evelyn leaned over the map, her fingers tracing the spider web of roads and locations, her brow in concentration. "Not random, a constellation..." she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

It was there, in the quiet hum of her focus, the pattern emerged--a dance of dates and places that wove together.

"Look at the dates," Evelyn said, her voice a beacon cutting through the fog. "Each one aligns with a local event. It's not random; it's opportunistic. He's hiding in plain sight, using the crowds as cover for escape."

Silence fell, a heavy cloak, as all eyes turned to Evelyn. Reid's lips quivered in a semblance of a smile, his respect for her clear in the warmth of his eyes. "She's right," he affirmed. "The unsub isn't just local; he's embedded in the community, using public events as his hunting ground."

Hotchner's nod was slow, thoughtful, the gears of strategy turning behind his stoic facade. "Good work, Evelyn. Let's get a list of upcoming events, cross-reference with his known comfort zone. We might just catch him in the act."

--

The office was a cocoon of concentration, bathed in the soft hum of working minds. The only sources of light were the twin glows of computer screens, reflecting off Reid and Evelyn's focused faces. Papers littered the desk, each one a piece of the puzzle they were desperately trying to solve.

Reid, his eyes scanning the data before them, spoke without looking away from the screen. "If we consider the unsub's preference for high-density events, it's logical to deduce that he will utilize the inherent disorder as a smokescreen for his escape," he said, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room.

Evelyn's eyes, bright with the thrill of the hunt, were fixed on the screen as she leaned forward, her curiosity piqued by the list of events. Her hair had loosened during the long hours of research, giving her an air of approachability.

Reid, ever the picture of academic focus, had his brows furrowed in concentration. His hair was a bit more unruly than usual, the curls just slightly askew. The faintest hint of a five o'clock shadow graced his jawline, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise youthful appearance.

Evelyn leaned in, her eyes scanning the list. "What about this one?" she asked, pointing to an entry on the screen. "The annual bourbon event. It's popular, draws a big crowd, and it's happening within his hunting grounds."

Reid's eyes flickered with approval. "Good catch," he affirmed, his voice steady and calm, yet there was an undercurrent of enthusiasm for her keen observation.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes sparkling with pride. The praise from Dr. Reid, sent a wave of elation through her--all the way in between her thighs. She dragged her lower lip through her teeth, straightening her posture, as she turned to him. "So, we could catch him there," she said.

Reid observed the transformation with a gentle, knowing smile. There was a vibrancy to Evelyn's enthusiasm that reminded him so vividly of his own younger self--brilliant, eager to prove, and somewhat oblivious to the darkness they were about to face. Yet, there was a shadow of concern that crept into his thoughts; the job had a way of chipping away at one's spirit, and he hoped Evelyn would be spared the harsher realities for a little while longer. He saw her potential for greatness, but also the innocence that he once carried--an innocence he hoped to protect, even if just for a little while longer.

Reid leaned back in his chair, his eyes meeting Evelyn's with a mentor's patience. "It's a multifaceted problem," he began, his tone measured and informative. "We have to account for variables that could influence the unsub's behavior--law enforcement visibility, crowd dynamics, ingress and egress points."

Evelyn nodded, her pen pausing over the notebook that was quickly becoming a testament to her dedication. "Right, exit strategies," she echoed, her voice a mix of realization and admiration. "I didn't even think about that."

"There's always a pattern, a logic to their choices, even if it's skewed by their own delusions," Reid continued, the profiler in him surfacing as he spoke. "Our job is to decode that logic, to think like them, so we can be there to stop them."

Evelyn's scribbles grew more fervent, her eyes alight with the challenge. "To get into their heads," she mused, looking up at Reid with newfound understanding.

"Exactly," Reid affirmed with a nod, a subtle smile acknowledging her quick grasp of the concept. "And remember, the most seemingly insignificant detail could be the key to unlocking their next move."

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning, and the urgency was palpable in the room. Evelyn's breath hitched as she stared at the date, her voice a mix of alarm and adrenaline. "Reid, it's tomorrow," she said, the words tumbling out with the weight of their implications.

Reid's reaction was immediate, his sharp mind already racing through the implications. His eyes now mirrored Evelyn's intensity. "We need to call Hotch," he stated, the command in his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

--

The BAU team, after hours of meticulous planning for the bourbon festival operation, stepped into the hotel lobby--a spacious area with high ceilings and a grand chandelier casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and fatigue from the day's efforts.

Morgan's eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the surroundings before resting on Evelyn. His muscular frame relaxed against the front desk, his FBI badge glinting under the lobby's lights. "You know, for a rookie, you're not too shabby at this profiling gig," he teased, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Evelyn, despite the exhaustion that shadowed her features, still managed to exude an effortless elegance. Her hair, usually tied back for practicality, had strands falling loosely around her face, softening her determined expression. "Oh, please. I learned from watching the best," she quipped, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

Morgan chuckled. "Just remember, it's all fun and games until someone gets out-profiled by the new kid."

In the hours between the precinct and the hotel, the team had dissected every detail of the unsub's previous attacks. They mapped out the festival grounds, assigned undercover positions, and established communication protocols. They even ran through several scenarios, each time refining their strategy to ensure they were ready for any contingency.

As they finalized check-ins, Garcia buzzed in with last-minute intel, adding another layer to the plan. They would need to be vigilant, adaptive, and above all, united to outsmart a foe who had eluded everyone thus far. The team dispersed to their rooms, Reid lingering behind with Evelyn as their rooms ended up being next to each other.

The dimly lit hallway to their rooms was quiet, save for the soft thud of their footsteps on the plush carpet. Reid walked alongside Evelyn; his profile bathed in the intermittent glow of the overhead lights. His hair was tousled, likely from the countless times he'd run his fingers through it in thought, giving him a disheveled charm that Evelyn couldn't help but find endearing.

As they reached her door, Evelyn's bag strap slipped from her shoulder, prompting her to grasp it tighter. In doing so, the sleeve of her blouse shifted, revealing the gentle slope of her collarbone. Reid's gaze inadvertently followed the movement, and he felt an inexplicable warmth flood to his cheeks. It was a simple, innocent moment, yet it stirred something within him.

"Here we are," Evelyn said, her voice breaking the silence as she fumbled with her key card.

Reid, still slightly flustered, cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, goodnight, Evelyn. See you in the morning," he managed to say, his eyes lingered a moment longer than they should've before he turned towards his own door.

"Goodnight, Spencer," she replied, her use of his first name sending a ripple through the air.

--

The bourbon festival buzzed with energy, a tapestry of sounds and colors under the open sky. The scent of oak and vanilla wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet, earthy aroma of the surrounding food stalls. Laughter and lively conversations created a backdrop to the twang of banjos and fiddles playing a lively bluegrass tune, setting toes tapping on the grassy grounds.

As Evelyn navigated the festival crowd, Reid found his attention inadvertently drawn to her. The way the setting sun played with her hair, transforming it into a cascade of burnished waves, and the way the sundress accentuated her every curve with an understated elegance. There was something about Evelyn in this light, in this moment, that captivated him, and he caught himself appreciating the sight more than he had anticipated.

Reid's attire was a departure from his usual suits--a plaid shirt that brought out the flecks of amber in his eyes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans that were both functional and inconspicuous. His hair lay in casual disarray, seeming as though the festival's carefree spirit had influenced his usually precise appearance.

The bourbon festival was in full swing, the air filled with the sounds of laughter and music. Undercover among the revelers, Reid and Evelyn blended in seamlessly, their casual attire and relaxed demeanor belying the sharp vigilance in their eyes.

Evelyn leaned against a wooden stall, sipping her fake drink as she observed the crowed. "So, we're looking for a male in his 30s, likely with a history of gambling debts and penchant for superstition," she recited quietly to Reid.

Reid, who was pretending to be engrossed in a festival brochure, nodded subtly. "Exactly. The four-leaf clover he leaves with his victims--it's not just superstition; it's a signature. It suggests a compulsion, a need to leave his mark, which is indicative of a narcissistic personality. He's taunting law enforcement, believing he can control the outcome of his crimes--like he's playing his own game of chance."

Evelyn, her voice low and steady leaned in. "So, we're looking for someone who blends in too well, someone who's watching but not engaging," she observed, her gaze sweeping over the crowd.

Reid nodded, his attention divided between her and the faces passing by. "Our unsub targets individuals who are isolated, perhaps separated from the group--easy prey in a setting like this," he explained.

Evelyn's eyes followed his line of sight. "Right, the loners. The ones who look like they're searching for something or someone," she added.

As the evening progressed, the shadows began to cast across the faces of the crowd. Reid and Evelyn moved through the throng, their gazes sharp and discerning. They passed a group of raucous college students, their laughter ringing out as they clinked their glasses in a toast. A little further on, a family of four navigated the crowd, the children's faces painted with whimsical designs, their hands sticky with cotton candy.

The air was rich with the scent of smoked meats and the char of oak barrels, the soundscape a blend of folk music and the murmur of hundreds of conversations.

Reid's voice was low as he leaned in, "It's fascinating how a beverage can be both a social lubricant and a potential clue in a criminal investigation. I suppose that adds a whole new layer to the term 'spirit detective'."

Evelyn's laughter was like a melody that cut through the ambient noise of the festival, infectious and unrestrained. It was the kind of laugh that turned heads, not just for its volume but for its genuine quality.

She turned to Reid, her eyes alight with a playful glint. "So, we're adding 'spirit detective' to your already impressive resume? I must say, it's quite the title upgrade from genius profiler," she quipped, her tone teasing.

"Easy, we don't want to draw attention," Reid murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. Her laugh was a laugh he realized he wanted to hear again, a candid burst of warmth that cut through the coolness of his analytical mind.

The festival's din faded into the background as Evelyn's attention was momentarily captured by Hotch's presence. He stood there, a figure of quiet authority even in his casual undercover attire. The subtle checkered pattern of his shirt did little to conceal his disciplined build, and the way his jeans fit just right made Evelyn's mouth feel dry all of a sudden.

Hotch's eyes, usually a well of stoicism, held a flicker of something else as they met Evelyn's--a momentary lapse in his guarded demeanor. His gaze, sharp and assessing, traveled over her in a swift, sweeping motion that was both professional and personal. It lingered just a beat too long on the curve of her neckline.

Hotch, after his brief lapse, was once again the picture of professionalism. His conversation with Rossi resumed, his demeanor unreadable, the brief moment of personal interest concealed behind a mask of focus and command. Evelyn, still oblivious to the subtle undercurrents of attraction, turned her attention back to the mission, her mind as sharp as ever.

Evelyn excused herself from Spencer, weaving through the crowd in search of the bathroom. The path to the restrooms was a stark contrast to the bourbon-soaked revelry Evelyn had left behind. The vibrant string of lights gave way to the occasional flickering bulb that did little to pierce the encroaching darkness. The music, once a lively companion, now played a muffled soundtrack to her solitary walk, the notes distorted and distant.

The restrooms, a small cluster of temporary structures, stood isolated at the edge of the festival grounds. Evelyn's boots sank slightly in the soft earth with each step, the recent rain turning the ground to a treacherous mix of mud and grass.

As she stepped out, the sense of solitude was abruptly shattered. A hand clamped over her mouth with startling force, stifling the scream that rose in her throat. Her assailant's arm was an iron band around her, pulling her back against a solid chest. Panic flared, her breath hot and desperate against the palm pressed to her lips.

Panic surged, her heart thundering in her chest, her mind screaming for action, but her body momentarily paralyzed by fear. It was him--the unsub. His breath was hot against her ear, his grip unyielding.

Adrenaline surged through Evelyn's veins, her training taking over as she drove her elbow back with precision, aiming for the soft of her attacker's abdomen. The unsub grunted, his grip loosening just enough for her to twist out of his hold. The unsub recovered quickly; his face contorted with anger.

He lunged at her, throwing a punch that Evelyn narrowly dodged. She countered with a swift kick to his knee, causing him to buckle, but he was relentless. He swung again, this time connecting with her cheek, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her jaw.

Evelyn staggered but didn't falter. She wiped the trickle of blood from her lip and glared at the unsub with fierce determination. With a swift move, she stepped inside his reach, delivered a powerful uppercut that snapped his head back, and followed with a knee to his midsection that doubled him over.

As he gasped for air, Evelyn seized the opportunity. She grabbed his arm, twisted behind his back, and pushed him down to the ground. "FBI! You're under arrest," she declared, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

The scene was a rush of motion as the team manifested in an instant. Reid's face was a canvas of raw concern, his eyes searching for signs of distress. Hotch allowed a rare glimpse of worry to surface as he took in her appearance--the bleeding lip and the bruise blooming on her cheek. Evelyn's hair, though slightly disheveled from the altercation, framed her face.

The team's anxiety was palpable, a collective breath held until they were certain she was unharmed. It was her first case, and the stakes had never felt more personal. Yet, as Evelyn stood there, her bright smile breaking through the tension, her spirit undimmed by the encounter.

"I got him!" she declared; her smile unwavering as she met the eyes of her team.

--

Evelyn perched precariously on the cold metal edge of the ambulance, the harsh glare of its lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The EMT, with gentle hands, tended to the gash on her lip--a stark red against her skin. Each touch of the disinfectant was a sharp reminder of the day's chaos, a stinging sensation that seemed to echo her inner turmoil.

Despite the pain, Evelyn found solace in the rhythm of conversation, her words weaving between the EMT's methodical treatment. She spoke of trivial things at first, the weather, the relentless pace of the city, anything to keep the silence at bay. Yet, even as her voice trembled slightly, revealing cracks in her usually unflappable demeanor, she smiled--a smile, wistful curve of the lips.

Spencer's approach was hesitant, his hands buried deep in the refuge of his pockets, betraying a casual facade that his furrowed brow contradicted. As he drew nearer, the dim light fell upon Evelyn's features, illuminating the stark contrast of bruised skin against the sterile white of the ambulance's interior. His eyes, a mirror of his internal struggle, winced at the sight, a silent testament to the empathy that swelled within him.

"How you holding up?" he inquired, his voice a soft undercurrent amidst the wail of distant sirens. The concern in his tone was evident, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Evelyn, her face a canvas of the day's trails, bore the marks of the ordeal with an unsettling grace. The cut on her lip, now cleaned, was a vivid line drawn across her otherwise smooth complexion. Flecks of dried blood were still visible.

Evelyn's smile, though small and tinged with irony, was a testament to her unyielding optimism. "I've had better nights," she quipped, the humor in her voice a gentle balm against the sting of the EMT's ministrations. As a fresh bandage adhered to her cheek--she winced.

"I know it's part of the job, but... I'm sorry you had to go through that," Spencer said, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity.

Evelyn's shrug was a delicate dance of nonchalance, her shoulders lifting in a gesture that belied the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "Comes with the territory, right?" she said, her voice a mix of jest and earnest. "Besides, we got him, and that's what counts." Her words were a shield, a deflection of the concern she saw mirrored in Spencer's eyes.

Spencer's response was a nod, subtle yet laden with the weight of unspoken words. The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile, a silent accolade for her courage. "You did good, Evelyn. Really good." His affirmation was simple, but it carried the depth of his respect for her, for the strength she wielded so effortlessly.

"Thanks," Evelyn replied, her gratitude genuine, a softening in the steel of her eyes. "For checking on me." It was a moment of vulnerability, a crack in her armor that allowed gratitude to seep through.

"It's what teammates do." Spencer said, his voice a low timbre that seemed to resonate with the quiet of the night. His gaze held hers, a momentary tether, it lingered a beat longer than necessary.

As the silence stretched between them, a figure approached, his footsteps measured and purposeful. It was Hotch, his presence commanding even in the dim light. He carried with him a blanket. Spencer, ever perceptive, felt the shift in the air and excused himself with a nod, stepping away to give them space. Hotch's eyes met Evelyn's, a wordless exchange passing between them before he spoke.

"You should keep warm," Hotch said, his voice firm yet laced with concern. He unfolded the blanket with practiced ease and draped it over her shoulders, the soft material enveloping in a gentle embrace. His eyes inadvertently lingered on the wound upon her lip, the starkness of the injury drawing his focus. It was a fleeting moment, but in it, there was an intensity. The EMT, giving them a brief nod, finished up and moved aside, leaving them in a quiet bubble of privacy.

Evelyn pulled the blanket tighter around her, the fabric against the night's chill. Hotch's proximity was a force itself, the air charged with an energy that seemed to pulse with each of his measured breaths. She was acutely aware of his gaze, the way it rested upon her with an intensity that was both unsettling and reassuring.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze lifting the meet Hotch's steady one.

Hotch's stance was as resolute as his reputation, his figure cutting a commanding silhouette against the flickering lights of the emergency vehicles. "Evelyn," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of authority softened by a trace of concern. His eyes, usually a guarded fortress, held a glimmer of uncharacteristic turmoil as they fixed upon her.

Evelyn, still cocooned in the blanket, looked up to meet his gaze. The ambient light played across her features, highlighting the youthful resolve etched into her bruised face.

In that moment, as he saw her standing her ground, something within Hotch shifted. The sight of her in the fray, fiercely fighting for her life, had ignited a surge of panic unlike anything he'd experienced with other team members. It was a visceral reaction, one that puzzled him with the intensity. Was it the paternal instinct to protest the progeny of his old friend and mentor, Gideon? Or was it something else?

Whatever the cause, it was a jarring sentiment that Hotch quickly compartmentalized, returning to the matter at hand with his usual stoic clarity. "You know the risks of going off alone, even for a moment," he reiterated, his stern gaze lingering on the cut of her lip--a silent reproof of her impulse.

Evelyn absorbed the words, her own eyes reflecting a complex mix or appreciation and a newfound understanding of the weight of her actions.

Hotch's gaze softened as he concluded, "Despite that, you handled yourself well out there. It's clear you're Gideon's daughter, and that's not just a responsibility--it's a strength. I have no doubt you'll become an invaluable part of this team. You're going to be okay, Evelyn."

next

[okasuka]

Damian wayne x Reader - Confession.

The night was sticky, the kind that clung to the skin like a second layer of clothing. The city lights flickered in the distance, casting an eerie glow on the deserted alleyway. Y/N leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement. They had been tipped off about a weapons exchange happening somewhere in the bowels of Gotham, and she wasn't about to let it go down without at least trying to disrupt it.

"Where the hell is he?" she muttered under her breath, referring to her unpredictable ally, Damian Wayne. He was never punctual, but this was pushing it, even for him. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck, and she resisted the urge to wipe it away, not wanting to disturb the mask that clung to her face like a second skin.

Suddenly, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot echoed through the narrow passageway. Y/N tensed, her hand instinctively reaching for the gadget-laden utility belt at her waist. A figure emerged from the darkness, and she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized the cocky swagger that could only belong to one person.

"Damian," she said, her voice flat. "Nice of you to show up."

The young man in question rolled his eyes behind his own mask, the crimson and black of his Robin costume stark against the grime of the alley. "You know, Y/N," he began, his tone as sharp as a knife's edge, "I don't have to be here."

"And yet, here you are," she shot back, pushing off the wall. "Let's get this over with."

The tension between them was palpable, thick as the humidity in the air. They had never gotten along, despite their shared history with Bruce Wayne. Damian was a constant thorn in her side, a reminder of the line she couldn't cross. But she had to admit, when it came to fighting crime, he was one of the best.

They moved through the shadows in silent agreement, each step calculated and precise. The alley grew narrower, the stench of rotting garbage more pronounced. Above them, the occasional flicker of a neon sign reflected off the wet pavement. The anticipation of the impending confrontation made her heart race, but she pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time for distractions.

As they approached the designated location, the sound of hushed voices grew louder. Y/N signaled for Damian to take the high ground, her eyes darting to the fire escape that zigzagged up the side of a dilapidated building. He nodded, and with a fluid grace that defied gravity, he began to climb, disappearing into the darkness.

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The alley opened up into a courtyard, illuminated by a single, flickering bulb. There, in the center, a group of shady characters were huddled around a table laden with an assortment of deadly weapons. She counted six of them, all heavily armed and looking ready for a fight.

Her grip tightened around the butt of her grappling gun. It was showtime. With a silent prayer to whatever deity watched over vigilantes, she stepped into the light.

"You know, guys," she called out, her voice echoing through the courtyard, "this whole 'selling illegal weapons' gig is really going out of style."

Their heads snapped up, six pairs of eyes narrowing into glares. One of them, a burly man with a scar running the length of his cheek, spat out a curse. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Just a concerned citizen," she replied, her smile cold and hard. "And I'm pretty sure you know the drill. Drop the goods and get out of here, or things are going to get...complicated."

They didn't budge, instead raising their weapons with a collective snarl. Behind them, she heard the metallic sound of a blade unsheathing. Damian had made his presence known.

The air grew taut with the promise of violence, and she could almost taste the adrenaline. She knew this dance well, the thrill of the fight, the anticipation of victory. But something felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way Damian's eyes had searched hers before he took off into the shadows, or the way her heart had skipped a beat when she saw him.

Before the first shot could ring out, she launched herself forward, the grappling hook firing from her gun and embedding itself in the concrete above the thugs. She swung into action, knocking the weapons from their hands with swift, precise movements. They stumbled back, caught off-guard by the sudden onslaught.

Damian dropped down from his perch, the crimson cape billowing around him. He moved with a feral grace, his sword flashing in the dim light. The clang of steel on steel filled the air as he engaged the man with the scar in a duel that was as mesmerizing as it was lethal.

Y/N took on two more, her fists flying as she dodged bullets and kicks with a finesse that came from years of training. The sound of breaking bones and grunts of pain were a symphony to her ears. But she knew she couldn't let herself get lost in the battle. There was something she had to do, something she had been avoiding for far too long.

With a swift kick to the chest, she sent the last of her opponents sprawling. She turned to face the man with the scar, who had backed away from Damian's relentless onslaught. The rage in the young Wayne's eyes was unmistakable.

"Damian," she called out, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Take a breath."

He didn't stop, his sword slicing through the air with a deadly rhythm. She could see the fury in his movements, the frustration of a lifetime of being told what he could and couldn't do bubbling to the surface.

"Damian," she tried again, louder this time. "We're in this together."

This time, he paused, his chest heaving. She stepped closer, reaching out a hand to him. The thug took the opportunity to lunge at her, but she was ready. With a twist and a pivot, she avoided the attack and brought her elbow down on the back of his neck. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"You okay?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Damian's.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a growl, he sheathed his sword. "Fine," he spat, his voice gruff. "But we're not done here."

Their eyes met, and in that split second, the weight of their unspoken confessions hung heavy in the air. They had both put themselves in danger, not just for the mission, but for each other. And she knew that when this was all over, there would be no more hiding the truth.

"Let's finish this," she said, her voice steady. "Then we'll talk."

Together, they turned to face the remaining thugs, who had realized their mistake and were now desperately trying to escape. But they weren't going anywhere. Not with Robin and Y/N on their tail. The night was far from over, and the city of Gotham had two more heroes to thank for keeping its streets safe. But as they took down the final member of the gang, she couldn't help but wonder what the morning would bring. Would their friendship survive the revelation of their true feelings? Or would it all crumble apart like the buildings around them?

They gathered the weapons and secured the perimeter, ensuring the scene was clear for the GCPD to arrive. The adrenaline of the fight slowly ebbed away, leaving a strange calm in its wake. The tension between them was no longer a storm waiting to break but a simmering ember, ready to ignite at the slightest touch.

Y/N looked over at Damian, his breaths still heavy, his eyes still blazing. "We need to talk," she said firmly, her voice a whisper in the quiet alley. "This... this can't go on."

Damian's gaze softened, the anger dissipating like the night's shadows. He nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. They had always been two sides of the same coin, both bound by a duty to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. But now, it seemed there was something more, something that could either strengthen their bond or shatter it completely.

They found a secluded rooftop, the city sprawling out before them like a neon quilt. The wind tugged at their masks, carrying with it the distant wail of sirens. Gotham was a city of secrets and pain, and they had just shared one of their own. Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.

"Damian," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I know we've had our differences, but... I think I've been wrong about you."

He turned to her, his expression a mix of confusion and hope. "What do you mean?"

"I think... I think I like you," she admitted, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. "I mean, more than just as a partner."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the distant hum of the city and the pounding of their hearts. Then, with a suddenness that took her breath away, Damian closed the space between them, his hand reaching up to cradle her face.

"Y/N," he murmured, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I've liked you for a long time. I just didn't know how to show it without... without screwing everything up."

Their eyes searched each other's, a silent conversation passing between them. And then, with a gentle pressure, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with all the passion and frustration that had been building between them for years. A kiss that promised a future filled with both danger and love.

When they finally pulled apart, the world had shifted on its axis. They were no longer just allies, no longer just family friends. They were something more, something that neither of them had anticipated, but something they both desperately needed.

"We can figure this out," she whispered, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "Together."

Damian nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Always."

And with that, they stood side by side, the wind whipping around them as they looked out over the city. Gotham was their battlefield, their home, and now, it was the backdrop for a love that could either be their greatest strength or their most dangerous distraction. Only time would tell.

[listentoace]

This will freak you out

... or at least I hope it does. Yes, I know most of the stuff I post on here is just kinky and horny talk and that's totally fine. By now, thousands of users have found their way to my blog and I'm very grateful for the support. I know I don't share much about myself, but the following will be about a more personal matter. I work in IT, or more specifically, with data. Lots of data. Being into data science, I am hyper-aware of the constant collecting and aggregating of user data. I know it's somewhat common knowledge that you're being tracked, but I want to take this opportunity to point out how bad the situation is and why privacy matters. I'll try to keep it as easy to follow as possible, so please bare with me!

The Trackers

Right now, you're on Tumblr. As you are reading this, your app connects to over a dozen servers that are not from Tumblr itself. They are from companies like Google, Amazon, Yahoo, but also lesser known companies such as Adjust and Moat. Within a single day, the Tumblr App sends about 5.000 tracking requests to the aforementioned and more companies, sharing your personal data. That's once every 15-20 seconds, regardless of whether you have the app opened or not. While I can't say exactly what data is being shared, it is likely that this is personal information that can be utilized to assume your opinions, target ads, or predict future behavior, as these are ways how companies will ultimately make money. Depending on what permissions you have granted the Tumblr app, it might also scan your gallery, your entire file system, access your call history, or your camera and microphone. By granting this permission, you are essentially giving Tumblr the keys to your phone on a complete "just trust me, bro"-basis. To me personally, that sounds scary.

But why do you use Tumblr yourself, then?

Very good and fair question! I actually am conflicted regarding using Tumblr, but I have put several security measures into place to minimize tracking potential as much as possible. While Tumblr can still see when I go online, read all the messages I send to others, know what content I view, like, comment on, and otherwise engage with, that is about it. Tumblr cannot acces my general file system, it cannot remotely access my camera and microphone, and even all the aforementioned trackers are blocked. I'll go more into this later.

"So what, I've got nothing to hide."

It's great that you think that! That's just what the big tech companies want you to believe. But answer me this: have you ever found it uncomfortable when a person next to you was reading all your texts, looking at your gallery, and just generally kept an eye on what you do on your phone at all times? Well, if a single person doing that is bothering you, how much worse must it be to know that several companies with thousands of employees spy on you for a living? Yes, they have seen your nudes, your breakup texts, your hours of Whatsapp calls with your best friend. It's literally a Big Brother Dystopia.

"Why would they be interested in me?"

I bet you have heard about the Cambridge Analytica (CA) scandal from 2018. Just to summarize: a data analytics company CA worked closely together with Facebook to target adds specifically tailored to users to manipulate them into voting for Donald Trump as President. If you are asking how specific this could be, just look at this demonstration by Signal, where their ads are extremely specific to a point where probably only a few thousand if not only hundreds of people would fit the description and just those exact people saw their ad.

"You got this ad because you're a newlywed pilates instructor and you're cartoon crazy. This ad used your location to see you're in La Jolla. You're into parenting blogs and thinking about LGBTQ adoption."

Facebook took it down within hours. But imagine you seeing this ad of a random company knowing this much and lots more about you. Note that Instagram and WhatsApp belong to Facebook/Meta, so even if you're not using Facebook directly, you're still being watched just as closely.

Knowing exactly what you like, dislike, fear, and love, strong emotions can be triggered for political or financial gain. You're into sustainability? Buy this product and we will retrieve one pound of plastic from the ocean! You are conservative and maybe slightly racist? Immigrants are taking over more and more healthcare jobs! You are scared by a possible nuclear war? Vote us for safety and peace!

This is how Cambridge Analytica managed to pull in millions of voters in the US and manipulate the election in a way that Donald Trump wouldn't have won without their manipulation. This is literally a threat to democracy. And as you know, my allegiance is to the Republic, to Democracy!

You might be aware of how right-wing and extremist parties all around the western world use very polarizing and emotional topics in their campaigns and are doing very well on social media. Often much better than more centered, leftist, or conservative parties, who tend to polarize less. This is not a coincidence. Not only is this because of customized, targeted content, but it's also because strong emotions generate more attention

Doom Scrolling & Dopamine

Social Media has had decades to perfect their dopamine lottery. The algorithms know exactly what you are into, no matter how much of a niche it might be. A good, user-oriented algorithm would show you a few posts, the best ones of the day, and then simply say "well, that's been all the good stuff. Wanna see the rest anyways?". But that's not how it works, is it? When opening an app like Instagram, TikTok, Tumblr, etc., you usually immediately land on a recent top-post. This is to give you the instant gratification and that sweet hit of dopamine.

Have you ever noticed how you had to scroll a bit before you got a post again that you really loved? That's by design. The mix of top-posts and mediocre ones is on purpose, to keep you waiting for more. You never know when the next super funny TikTok will come by. All you know is that it might be the next one. In-between top-posts, you're met with mediocre garbage and an add or two and just before it gets too boring, you hit gold again. The constant release of much higher than normal amounts of dopamine make your brain temporarily lose touch with what levels are normal. Why is it that you feel drained and tired after scrolling through social media for a few hours, even though you've done nothing but sitting around? You didn't think hard, you didn't move much, so what is it? It is the dopamine-rollercoaster that is mentally straining you. And there are tens of thousands of highly trained software engineers and corporate executives designing their platforms to keep you scrolling for as long as possible. If that little chiming sound increases your screen time by as little as 2%, it will be added. It is designed to suck your life away, chain your eyeballs to the content they want you to see, just so they can literally sell you to anyone who has the cash. You need that new gadget, visiting this country is an absolute must, this new sports competition is amazing, definitely vote for this cool party. Trust them. They know what you want. You don't know anything about them, but they know everything about you.

"What do I do now?"

Well, it is unlikely that you'll stop using social media at all. I mean, even I am still here. But there are things you can and should do for your mental and financial health, and for your own safety and protection against manipulation. Here is a list of things you should consider

Limiting social media to only a few apps you actually use and are interested in

Spend no more than 2 hours on social media per day

Meet friends irl instead of only texting

Stop sharing personal information. It is not illegal to enter false names, birthdays, etc into random sign-up forms! Protect your children as well!

Use privacy- & user-oriented platforms, such as Signal instead of WhatsApp, or Mastodon instead of Twitter. They finance themselves through volunteers and donations instead of by selling your data and lifetime to any buyer

Use privacy-oriented frontends (the visual interface and application you interact with), such as NewPipe or FreeTube instead of YouTube. You also won't be seeing any ads there

Don't buy anything impulsively. Take a week or two to think about whether you really need and want it.

Check facts, do your own research, use multiple sources, be critical

And in case you're interested in what I use:

I'm have an Android phone running /e/OS and a total of 5 computers/servers which run Linux and a Windows laptop for work. My phone block any trackers, fakes my GPS location (not VPN/IP) to where I am in Barcelona. All devices have a 24/7 encrypted VPN connection. I don't have WhatsApp, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, or even a Google account. For personal use I have Signal, Element (Discord alternative), and Proton Mail. That's it. Every website or platform I have an account on has it's own, unique, single-use email, a randomized password and 2FA whenever possible. I use KeePass as my password manager, encrypted with a password, key file, and hardware key. I enter false data into any random form, use hardened Firefox browsers to resist fingerprinting and tracking, and back up all my data at home on a hard drive instead of using a cloud service. (Yes, there is much more)

For my content, I use Tumblr and a semi-active Discord account, Reddit accounts are banned.

For my professional life, I am forced to use Microsoft Teams and Outlook, yet I only use those on my work computer & phone.

Privacy = Freedom

Yes, I know my measures are far beyond average, but I wanted to present an example and hopefully inspire some of you to take back your online freedom and privacy! Because that's what it is! Privacy is Freedom!

I hope this inspired you and please ask any questions in the comments! This truly is a topic that means a lot to me so thank you for reading all the way through it. Please reblog to further share this important topic and encourage others to protect themselves!

- Ace

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Act 4 Prologue (Azel Radwan)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

At the same time, in Tanzanite--

The throne room located on the palace's top floor was filled with the joy and excitement of the people.

Amongst the clamor surrounding the night, the immense full moon enveloped the people as if protecting them.

Azel: "Silence."

With just one word from the deity atop the throne, the people immediately fell silent, looking up at the god with awe.

His mystical eyes, filled with stars that seemed to belong to the night sky rather than a human, scanned the people with compassion.

Azel: "The divinations have revealed your fate. Under the divine will, you need to formulate a policy as soon as possible."

Azel: "It's up to you whether you want to utilize or disregard the mercy of the gods. Just don't disappoint me, for the heavenly moon is always watching over you."

As the current deity rose, the people who seemed lost in a daydream all kneeled and bowed their heads simultaneously.

Among them was a man wearing a crown.

King of Tanzanite: "We've prepared a banquet for you. Please, do join us."

Azel: "I appreciate the offer, but with a God present, you may find it impossible to indulge in wine."

Azel: "I shall take my leave, so do not concern yourselves. Ah, and a farewell is unnecessary. I dislike unnecessary fuss."

Azel: "Well, then, have a good night. May the divine grace be upon all the people."

As the fervor waned, the natural tranquility of the night returned.

The deity, walking with resolute steps, suddenly halted when a woman, a dancer, blocked his path.

Woman: "Greetings, esteemed deity."

Azel: "I've just said that your concerns are unnecessary."

The woman held a variety of banquet dishes, their enticing aroma filling the hallway.

Woman: "I apologize for misunderstanding the divine will. However, I thought perhaps you might not attend the feast tonight."

Woman: "This is a modest offering from me. If you would be so kind, may I serve you?"

Azel: "I appreciate your dedication. However, it's unnecessary."

Azel: "I'm in a hurry, so could you please step aside?"

Woman: "Please don't say that. After the lengthy divination, I'm sure you must be hungry."

Azel: "No, it's fine."

A rumble suddenly came from his stomach, momentarily disrupting the sanctity.

Azel: "Anyway, it's okay. Leave me be and go to the feast."

Woman: "Please wait!"

The woman attempted to block his path again as he tried to move forward forcefully.

Azel: "Ah, these clueless folks who just don't get it, no matter what you tell them."

Unaware of his muttered words, the woman stumbled over his foot while trying to approach and fell to the floor along with the dishes.

He looked down at the scattered food and the groaning woman without even offering a hand.

Azel: "Poor thing."

Woman: "Esteemed deity?"

Azel: "I feel sorry for the food that was wasted."

Despite smiling gently, his mysterious eyes seemed completely unconcerned about the events that had taken place.

Azel: "Lick it up."

Woman: "Eh?"

Azel: "It would be a pity if the food went to waste, wouldn't it?"

Azel: "Look, this soup still looks edible."

Azel: "If you crawl like a dog and lick it up, it won't be wasted."

Woman: "What are you…?"

Azel: "Of course, I'm a kind god, so I won't force you to do anything."

Azel: "You're free to follow or defy God's will."

Woman: "........."

Her hesitation lasted only a moment.

She lowered her face to the floor and began licking the spilled soup with her tongue.

As she repeated this several times, something suddenly happened.

The woman's skin gradually flushed, emitting a scent suitable for the night, and her heated gaze met his impassive expression.

Azel: "So you really did slip in an aphrodisiac. Your fortune for today seems to be very unlucky, doesn't it?"

Azel: "Ah, no. Perhaps it's actually very fortunate."

Azel: "Since your beloved god didn't taste it."

Woman: "Please have mercy."

He turned his back, keeping his distance from the woman who reached out to him.

Azel: "Feel free to please yourself all you want. Well then, I'll take my leave."

Azel: "It's already past my working hours, and working overtime is just out of the question."

Woman: "I like you! I'd do anything for you!"

Woman: "Would it be a sin for me to love you?"

Azel: "Let me tell you one thing."

Azel: "Gods don't love people because love is worthless."

Azel: "If you are willing to give me a fortune equivalent to Prince Silvio's, then I might consider it."

Azel: "But if not, it's unpleasant to even have you in my sight."

Woman: "........."

Azel: "Since it looks like you're not getting what I'm saying, let me make it clear."

Azel: "It's time for you to disappear. Get out of my sight, slut."

Woman: "Eeek!"

As if it were all a dream, his face lost all compassion.

With a coldness rivaling that of the desert night, he stared at the woman as if she were a bug.

Azel: "Your feelings are neither love nor anything of the sort. It was just the prattle of a depraved slut drowning in filthy desires."

This time, there was no one to stop his stride.

The god laughed and smiled under the divine glow of the full moon, devoid of mercy or compassion.

Azel: "This nation under the protection of gods is still living in a happy dream."

Azel: "Even though the day when this eternal dream shatters is approaching, I wonder if I'll ever be able to laugh at it."

☆ Ikepri Masterlist

[canmom]

very brief torrent security primer

some brief comments on piracy safety for @goblin-thembo who has been asking a lot of questions in the notes of that post...

OK, so when you download a torrent, you are downloading some files. The BitTorrent protocol makes it almost impossible to substitute a different file than the one you request, but you have no way to be absolutely certain that the original file is 'safe' - that depends on the properties of the file, and what you do with it. Some types of file are safer than others.

Here's some jargon you may find useful.

torrent: a file that describes how to download some files through the BitTorrent protocol. we won't go into the technicalities, but when you load a torrent into your torrent client, you will connect to other people who have parts of the files, download the pieces, and reassemble the files you want.

seeding: providing a copy of the files in a torrent to other people.

ISP: Internet Service Provider, the company that connects you to the internet.

IP address: your computer's identity on a network, notably the public internet. When you connect to a website, they know your IP address. Your IP address is assigned by your ISP.

From an IP address, you can determine someone's broad geographical location (which country they're connected in) and which ISP they are using. You can contact the ISP, who will be able to associate it with a specific user.

swarm: the collection of users downloading or seeding a particular torrent.

VPN: Virtual Private Network, a relay service which hides your IP address from the public internet. People who connect to you will see the VPN's IP instead of your real IP. Your ISP will be able to know that you connected to a VPN, but not what you send through it. So they wouldn't be able to tell if you are using BitTorrent. VPNs usually cost a fairly small amount of money as a subscription service.

Threat model

In security we talk about a 'threat model', which is what you think you need to protect yourself from. There are two major threats when downloading files using BitTorrent.

copyright claims: your computer's IP is broadcast when you use BitTorrent. Copyright holders will often put 'sniffers' on the network which will monitor the IPs in the swarm of popular torrents. They will then send a takedown letter to your internet service provider (ISP), who will usually send you an email to stop sharing copyrighted media on their network, and then cut off your internet on multiple offences. This can easily be circumvented using a VPN. I strongly recommend using a VPN if you download any copyrighted content through BitTorrent.

attacks through the file you download: someone might upload a virus as a torrent, presenting it as a file you might be looking for (e.g. cracked software). So let's go over different types of file you might download and how they could be used to attack you.

Executable files, such as pirated software, are not safe. If you download a program and run it, you are potentially giving the author full control over your computer. So you should make damn sure the uploader is trustworthy. If you're downloading open source software from the maintainer's github release page, you're probably good. If you're downloading cracked art programs or games... good luck lol.

On a public torrent tracker, to which anyone can upload, there is no guarantee that any file is what anyone says. You have to make your own determination of which uploaders are trustworthy. I can't give you great advice on this, since I generally do not download cracked executables. For games, FitGirl Repacks is generally a pretty good source.

If you are on Windows, the default Windows Defender software should be used to scan any file you download. (Paid antivirus software is of somewhat dubious utility, often pushing ads and using CPU resources in its own right.) Fewer attackers will target desktop Linux or OSX, which doesn't mean you're guaranteed safe, but Windows is the biggest target as the most widely used operating system.

Videos, music and images are generally safe. I say 'generally' because it's possible, in theory, to create a video that exploits a vulnerability in your video player (e.g. mpv or VLC) and uses it to execute code. So far as I know this is largely theoretical, and known vulns have been patched, but make sure to keep your player up to date to mitigate against known vulnerabilities.

Any compressed archives (zip, rar, 7zip) can be used to create something called a 'zip bomb', which is a file which goes into an infinite loop when you try to decompress it, swallowing up more and more memory and hard drive space. I've never seen this actually be done, but it's possible. More subtle attacks would attempt to attack the program you use to decompress the file. Keep your software up to date to mitigate against known vulnerabilities.

Besides taking care about what you download, on Windows you should either not run your main account as an admin account, or make sure to set User Account Control to require a credentials check for admin operations, and also keep your operating system and software up to date. Make sure file extensions are visible so you don't get fooled by a file disguised as a different file type. And y'know, if the torrent tracker has comments, check to see if a lot of people are saying it's a virus.

What could happen if your computer gets infected? Well, they might use your computer to mine crypto at the cost of your CPU performance, they might encrypt and ransom your files, and they might steal your credentials for online services (including banking and the like). There are various measures you can take against this, such as making sure to encrypt sensitive data such as passwords, but the best defense is to not infect your computer in the first place.

The most likely time for people to upload viruses is when something is in high demand and there isn't a single authoritative high-quality source out yet.

Ultimately you get to decide what you consider an acceptable level of risk. There is no such thing as perfect safety. I would recommend using your own initiative to learn about computer security and not badger random tumblr users to explain it to you, but hopefully the above guidelines should help you avoid doing anything too dangerous.

[robobrainrot]

What’s Past is Prologue

An Earthspark Post-S1, Pre-S2 summary fic

If you were left unsatisfied by the jarring time gap and tone shift between S1 and S2, here's a mini fic to help fill the void. I'm going to write out the full version on Ao3. But this is the short and sweet summary~

It had been a month since The Battle of Witwicky. The Maltos are still picking up the pieces, both literally and figuratively. While they succeeded in their goal of defeating Mandroid, saving all Transformers on Earth, and quite possibly, the world as a whole, some things were left shattered. Most notably, Quintus Prime’s Emberstone. The pieces were scattered across the globe and, for a moment, Team Prime feared they would be lost forever.

However, Quintus Prime would never leave his chosen stranded. Prime Power or not, the kids did not give up hope. The shards of the Emberstone dispersed, but they were not lost forever. Starting right in their backyard, The Maltos found their first shard in the cow pasture… With the help of Fluffy-Ears, of course. Less than a week later, another was found by Breakdown while racing across the countryside with Bumblebee.

At first, the alliance between Autobots and Decepticons had been tense. Both sides were anxious that the other might sell them out or deceive them. But with the help of the newly declared “Malto-bots,” tensions eased. It was hard not to enjoy their company. It had been centuries since any of them had interacted with bots so young. It was refreshing to have such young and enthusiastic faces around.

Every day, the Maltos searched for more ways to find the missing shards. Some they stumbled across accidentally. Some ended up in museums- dazzling archeologists. Schloder and Optimus Prime had to be the ones to get those. Nightshade created a way of scanning for the shards, but their device’s range was limited so the scouting parties had to travel the world to identify possible locations. Did someone say road trip? The Trine were quick to point out that they were much better suited for the job thanks to the help of Skywarp’s powers.

Starscream had to admit, he was fascinated by these ancient Cybertronian artifacts. His volunteering to help the Maltos was not entirely altruistic. It was an opportunity to show off the superiority of himself and his fellow Seekers and gain knowledge about these strange crystal shards. That’s what he told himself at least. The fact that he often hoovered around the Malto residents when Hashtag was around, and Megatron was not, was purely so he could gather intel.

As for the Malto-bots, they enjoyed the month of relative peace. While not all the Decepticons were eager to become ‘friends’, the ones that stuck around would do their best to teach the kids something while they were there.

Breakdown was the first. Never one to turn down a chance to show off, he was happy to oblige Thrash when he asked for racing tips. He showed the young bot a few flashy new moves, including one that Robby insisted was called “The Akira Slide.” Breakdown maintained that it was a Stunticon specialty, and certainly not inspired by a cartoon.

Swindle tried to teach the kids how to override security locks at the junkyard, but was quickly shut down by Elita-One. He complained to Hardtop about what a wasted opportunity it was for three days straight.

Skullcrusher, Grimlock, and Jawbreaker formed a special alliance that Jawbreaker dubbed “The Beastie Boys.” They spent their down time sparing and seeing who could leave the biggest dent in scrap metal pieces.

Soundwave and his casseticons taught Hashtag how to utilize her radio to scramble comm frequencies. In return, she taught them about the wonders of the internet. This was a terrible decision, as Frenzy quickly became engrossed by internet subcultures. Soundwave had to step in with what Mo would call his “Mad Dad Voice.” On the bright side, the discovery of Kandi culture led to a group friendship bracelet making party.

Even Shockwave took some time to mentor the bots. Well. Realistically it was just Nightshade in the lab, but The Great Shockwave was cool enough that the other Maltos pretended to pay attention for half of his science monolouge.

The Decepticons started creating their own home base in between Emberstone shard scouting missions. Led by Starscream, with Shockwave as his Second, they found a suitable location far enough away from the former-GHOST base, but not so far away that it would be impossible to reach the Terrans if needed.

This was one area that walked the line of the treaty. The Decepticons were entitled to make a home on Earth. Optimus Prime respected their wishes on this matter. He instructed the other Autobots and Maltos to stay out as well. If there was going to be a chance at lasting peace, they needed to build trust. Many of the Decepticons had been imprisoned by GHOST for years. They deserved a safe space without surveillance as much as anyone. Freedom was the right of all sentient beings, and Prime would sooner go offline than go back on that principle.

There was still much they didn’t know. With every new answer about the emberstones came more questions. Between chaos and confusion, there was also stillness and affection. For these precious moments, both Autobots, Decepticons and Maltobots could enjoy the time of respite.

However, nothing really lasts forever.

[thewitchblue]

Recluse, Part Two: The Society

You woke up on a medical cott in a cave. You tried to remember how you got there or what happened. This didn't look like the medical unit at the Society HQ. You looked around and noticed the location you are in.

With a groan, you started to sit up only to realise you couldn't. You had metal pinning you down. You heard Venom growl,

"These assholes are dead when you tear off this metal pinning you."

You pursed your lips. First, you needed to find something to use as an escape. Unfortunately, the part of the cave you were put in seemed to be mostly empty. Nothing within grasp or range of your webs.

At least you still had your teleportation methods to escape. You asked for your device to look like a ring. Boring, unassuming. It was designed to look cheap, but it was the most complex device that you made.

You sighed as you took a look around. Nobody was around, thankfully, but you needed an escape route.

What the fuck did the Batfam do to you while you were unconscious? Where are you? It doesn't matter. You can teleport back home and someone will be there to fix the sedative and send antidotes to add to the database.

You stretched, which ripped the metal cuffs on your limbs easily. You sat up and began tugging at the metal around your midsection, but you found it wasn't as easy to break.

You tugged at the lock that's in place with a frown. It was melded together, crudely, at that. It seemed like the welder panicked when they melded the metal together. You remember vaguely waking up to see blurred figures standing over you with a disapproving gentleman in the background, who was incredibly disappointed in your captors. You sighed. Maybe you could portal the medical cott to escape, if the metal wouldn't budge.

"How are you feeling?"

You heard a voice asked. Your eyes snapped to see a child in front of you. His expression was hard, but his eyes seemed almost soft. You could feel more than one pair of eyes, so you sarcastically replied,

"Like your chicken friend just hit me with a train."

You picked up the pattern. You'd be stupid not to. The dark, dingy cave would only fit Batman and this is his little sidekick. You do a bit of research for each universe before going to the universe so you are prepared for whatever. They are his patchwork family. You could see it all so clearly because you have that patchwork family. You watched all your actual family members die, but the Society became your family. You hijacked Miles's family when you are in his universe. You became a "distant cousin from a different country" when you are with Miles's family.

"I'm sorry. Drake tripped."

You rolled your eyes at the weak excuse. With an uncapped needle in his hand? Unlikely. However, now that you had someone close... maybe you could use Robin to your advantage. Your eyes scanned his suit before landing on his utility belt. An idea, a hope, began to form.

You quickly webbed Robin's utility belt and pulled it to you. The belt clicked off his waist at your tug, and you thanked the universe for not ripping the cloth.

There's surely something in the belt to aid your escape. You grinned when you found a means to escape. A small bomb that you recognise was graverobbed off Harry'suitcases corpse. Finally success!

You strapped the bomb to your welded metal. Thankfully, there was no release latch on this type of bomb so there was nothing Robin could do about it. Robin's eyes widened, but he had no choice but to flee. You used a smoke bomb just as the bomb exploded.

You stumbled in pain as bits of metal flew across the room. Yeah, you definitely broke your hips and likely had some metal embedded in you. Whatever. It will all heal in time. You needed to get home.

You used your ring just in time for Robin to tackle you into the portal.

You quickly shut the portal before more followed. You squirmed under his iron grasp while you fall on the cold hardwood floor of the HQ. Pain rams through you as your hips slam to the floor. Robin's grasp was the only thing grounding you to consciousness, so you draw him closer in your arms. Your arms were weakened, so you couldn't fight nearly as hard as you could when someone took Robin away.

You vaguely heard Miguel screaming at you and watch Robin get taken away, overwhelmed by the sheer number of spider people surrounding him and ready to take on a 12 year old boy.

"Miguel, I think they are hurt."

You don't see who spoke, but you nodded and gestured to your lower body before collapsing. Your bones felt like they were vibrating and your muscles felt like liquorice when it was being pulled.

Miguel cursed loudly but gently picked you up and carried you to medbay, where Robin was getting checked for injuries as well. He was put on soft restraints, likely because of him fighting to return to your side, but you barely noticed.

The doctors and nurses cursed when they saw you and ran. If you were more lucid, you'd see the guilty look on Robin's face. Unfortunately for him, all his trackers in his utility belt items were destroyed by the bomb and damaged beyond repair.

"You are so fucking lucky you have an insane healing factor. You would have died!"

One of the doctor's scolded at you. Your hearing was coming back and your bones, now set, were healing perfectly fine. You scoff. With folded arms, you bitterly reply,

"I'd rather die than be a prisoner."

The staff all quieted at that. They knew you were imprisoned at your home universe, but they don't know the extent of the torture. Only Miguel knew and he's been particularly protective ever since he discovered you.

"I'm sorry. We were worried sick. Miguel, especially. He wanted to go out to get you, but your trackers were disabled. We feared the worst."

You nodded with a sigh. You felt a rib snap into place as the action and cursed loudly in Spanish.

You should have known to do that fight while invisible. You could have. You didn't have to expose yourself, but you felt like goblin would have done more damage to civilians if you were invisible. He needed a target to focus his energy on, and you were happy to be that target if it meant the civilians (and the heroes) were safer.

"You are never going back to that universe."

Miguel said coldly. His red eyes lingered on you as his eyes scanned your already healed body and then counted the metal shards removed from your body. Over one hundred shards were removed. You immediately countered while gesturing to Damian,

"I can't just kidnap a child! I have to bring him back."

Miguel borderline growled,

"Then we'll get someone else to bring him back. You are staying here."

You sighed. You knew he'd be pissed, but you weren't prepared for his calm anger. He's normally the explosive type, but he's deadly calm this time. This was a command, not a request or a demand.

"You can't keep me locked here! I have to go back and right my wrongs. Who would I be if I didn't at least return the child?"

He hissed as he approached,

"A smart one! You are banned from that universe. I will be altering your device to remove that universe."

You pursed your lips. You had to right your wrongs. At all cost.

"I'm bringing him back. I don't have to interact with anyone, just throw him back to the universe."

Miguel shook his head. He should have expected you to be the noble one and return the child personally. He said sternly,

"If you must go, I'm going with you and you are bringing your webs."

You bit your lip but relented. At least you'd be returning the child.

"And I'm implanting more trackers and embedding your ring to your finger. We're engaged. You can't just walk away like that and not expect me to panic."

A doctor pipped up with a nervous chuckle,

"It's true. It was like trying to calm down a tiger. It was impossible until you stumbled in."

You huffed an amused laugh and kissed his hand.

"I'm safe, corazón mío (my heart)."

He nodded but bit his lip with his fangs. You could see the anxiety in his still cooling red eyes.

"Lo siento (I'm sorry). I... I can't lose you. Me destruiría. (It would destroy me)."

You smiled softly at him as you took his hand. You love him deeply. You asked,

"What are we going to do with the child in the meantime? We can't imprison him with the rest of the anomalies."

Miguel said a bit playfully,

"We can always keep him as our kid."

You know he was only half-joking. He wants a kid with you, and Damian's the perfect candidate. You have to keep the child close either way. You eyed the boy strapped to the bed next to you. You considered it for a moment before you admitted,

"I don't want him to be cursed like us."

Miguel sighed, but the child seemed to perk up. He seemed to like the idea of you becoming his family and who was Miguel to deny you?

"I can handle myself in a fight, alwalid."

He was already calling you his parent. Your gaze softened as you walk to his bedside. You took his hand in yours and asked,

"You want to be with us? What about your father?"

He shrugged as best he could while trapped. You eyed the restraints before your gaze turned back to Damian. He said plainly,

"I lived without him before. I can live without him now."

You frowned and looked at Miguel, who also shrugged. He seemed to have a long conversation with you through just a look before finally saying,

"It's your call. We always wanted children, but I'll admit I'm worried about the history."

You sighed and turned your attention back to the little Robin. You carefully undo his restraints and eyed him warily for a moment. You knew you could take him in. You have the space at home and the perfect partner to aid you. Miguel says,

"If we adopt you, we have to do it by the book. We can't just kidnap you. Your dad will tear the multiverse apart to find you again."

Damian nodded. He's fine with that. He loved your strength and your resolve. Your sense of moral seemed strong, even if you are young and faced many tragedies. You nodded your agreement while softly smiling. You already were growing to love the child, but it's hard to tell if it's because of your strong desire for children or because of this child specifically. After all these years of wanting a child, one falls right into your lap. Damian tugged on your shirt lightly to get your attention.

"Alwalid, it might go better if only you go. He might find Miguel... hostile. The fangs and red eyes would make him falter in his decision for you to adopt me."

Miguel looked like he wanted to fight the claim but you gave Miguel a stern look and draw Damian into your arms.

"If you want this child, you have to let me go this one time."

Miguel looked Damian over, and Damian tried to look demure and loveable. After a long pause and another conversional look between you both, Miguel nodded.

"If you don't come back by tomorrow, estoy arrastrando tu culo de vuelta auqí por tus tobillos. (I'm dragging your ass back here by your ankles)."

You flashed a grin and nodded. You gave him a quick kiss and said,

"Te amo, mi corazón (I love you, my heart). I'll come back!"

Miguel grumbled but allowed you to enter the portal back to Damian's universe after a long kiss Damian had to look away from with a disgusted face.

Miguel didn't like the way Damian smirked as you entered the portal. Miguel shot Miles a quick text about it. It's his universe, after all. Maybe his spider sense is paranoid, or maybe his worry isn't unfounded.

[safescannersblog]

Avoid Costly Delays: How Scanning Utility Locating Saves You Time and Money

In today's fast-paced construction and infrastructure development landscape, time is money. Any unforeseen delays can significantly inflate costs and disrupt project timelines. One of the most effective ways to mitigate these risks is by employing advanced scanning utility locating techniques. Safe Scanners, a leader in this field, offers state-of-the-art GPR Services, GPR Scanning, Ground Penetrating Radar, and Concrete Scanning Services. These services ensure that projects proceed smoothly, without the costly interruptions caused by unforeseen utility line strikes or structural issues.

The Importance of Utility Locating Services

Before any excavation, drilling, or construction work begins, it's crucial to know what lies beneath the surface. Utility locating services help identify the presence of underground utilities such as water pipes, gas lines, electrical cables, and telecommunications infrastructure. Unintended strikes on these utilities can cause severe delays, legal liabilities, safety hazards, and increased costs.

Safe Scanners' Utility Locating Services use advanced technology to provide accurate and reliable subsurface information. This proactive approach not only prevents damage but also enhances project planning and efficiency.

How Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR) Works

Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR) is a non-destructive method that uses radar pulses to image the subsurface. GPR Scanning involves transmitting high-frequency radio waves into the ground. When these waves encounter a buried object or a boundary between different materials, they reflect back to the surface, where they are detected by a receiver. The time it takes for the radar waves to return is used to create a detailed image of the subsurface.

GPR Services provided by Safe Scanners are invaluable in detecting utilities, voids, rebar, and other structural components. This technology is highly effective in a variety of materials, including soil, rock, concrete, and asphalt, making it versatile for different construction needs.

Benefits of GPR Scanning and Concrete Scanning Services

Accuracy and Precision: GPR Scanning delivers highly accurate results, allowing construction teams to pinpoint the exact location and depth of utilities and other subsurface features. This precision reduces the risk of damaging existing infrastructure and ensures compliance with safety regulations.

Cost Savings: By identifying and avoiding utilities and other subsurface hazards, Safe Scanners' GPR Services prevent costly repairs, project delays, and potential legal issues. The upfront investment in scanning services can save significant amounts of money in the long run.

Safety Enhancement: Excavating without proper knowledge of underground utilities can lead to dangerous situations, including gas leaks, electrical hazards, and water main breaks. Using Ground Penetrating Radar and Concrete Scanning Services minimizes these risks, protecting workers and the public.

Non-Destructive Testing: GPR is a non-invasive method that does not disturb the surveyed area. This means that the site remains intact, avoiding the mess and potential damage associated with exploratory digging.

Versatility: GPR Scanning can be used in various environments and for multiple applications, from large-scale construction projects to smaller residential renovations. Safe Scanners' expertise ensures that each project benefits from tailored solutions.

Case Studies: Real-World Applications of GPR

Case Study 1: Urban Infrastructure Development

In a major city development project, Safe Scanners was enlisted to perform GPR Scanning before the installation of new utilities. The dense urban environment posed a challenge due to the existing network of underground utilities. Using advanced Ground Penetrating Radar, Safe Scanners successfully mapped out the complex subsurface layout, allowing the construction team to proceed without incident. This avoided potential delays and saved the city significant costs in rerouting and repairs.

Case Study 2: Historic Building Renovation

A historic building undergoing renovation required Concrete Scanning Services to locate rebar and voids within its foundation. Safe Scanners deployed its GPR technology to scan the concrete structure, providing detailed imagery of the rebar patterns and any hidden voids. This information was crucial in planning the renovation work, ensuring structural integrity and preserving the building's historical value. The project was completed on time and within budget, thanks to the accurate data provided by Safe Scanners.

Future Trends in Utility Locating and GPR Technology

As technology advances, the capabilities of GPR and utility locating services continue to expand. Innovations such as 3D GPR imaging and real-time data processing are enhancing the accuracy and speed of subsurface investigations. Safe Scanners is at the forefront of adopting these new technologies, ensuring that clients benefit from the latest advancements in the field.

Moreover, the integration of GPR data with Geographic Information Systems (GIS) allows for more comprehensive and accessible mapping of subsurface utilities. This integration provides a holistic view of the project site, further reducing risks and improving planning efficiency.

In the realm of construction and infrastructure development, avoiding costly delays is paramount. Safe Scanners' GPR Services, including GPR Scanning, Ground Penetrating Radar, and Concrete Scanning Services, offer a reliable and effective solution to this challenge. By accurately locating subsurface utilities and other features, these services save time, reduce costs, and enhance safety on job sites.

Investing in advanced utility locating services is a proactive step that pays off in both the short and long term. With Safe Scanners' expertise and cutting-edge technology, you can ensure your projects proceed without unexpected interruptions, keeping your timelines and budgets intact.

For more information on how Safe Scanners can assist with your next project, visit our website or contact us directly. Together, we can build a safer, more efficient future.

[cnilocates]

How Accurate Is Ground Penetrating Radar Scanning?

Ground penetrating radar (GPR) is a powerful tool used to see what lies beneath the ground without digging. Understanding the accuracy of GPR is important for anyone looking to use this technology for subsurface investigations. Here, we’ll explore how ground penetrating radar scanning works, the factors that influence its accuracy, and its various applications. Read more:- https://cnilocates.hashnode.dev/how-accurate-is-ground-penetrating-radar-scanning

[suddenly-stickmin]

A Drive Through The Forest Pt. 1

Clement Warrantine grabbed the large brim of his black top hat with one hand and pushed it up, while the other stayed firmly on the truck wheel.

He grumbled to himself as the hat slid right back down, obscuring his vision of the road.

It was bad enough he had to drive through a thick forest in the middle of the night, it was bad enough the dusty-blue truck the Toppat Chief lent him was in such shoddy condition that its headlights were nothing more than weak, fuzzy yellow beams, it was bad enough there wasn’t a single lamppost anywhere on this road, he did not need his hat making this ride more bothersome than it already was.

He adjusted his blue-tinted, round framed glasses and slouched. He could take the hat off.

He could.

He took a deep breath.

But he won’t.

The top hat was important. It was a necessity. It showed how far he had come in life to reach the position he was in today, from a lowly truck driver…

…To a stick who was now the Toppats’ driver.

The sudden sound of static made Clement jump. His eyes darted over to the walkie talkie that sat in the passenger seat. He grabbed hold of it and brought it to his ear, ready to hear any updates from Macbeth, but when he realized the sound wasn’t coming it, he looked over to the radio instead.

He tossed the handheld device aside and fiddled with the knobs until the static stopped, and all that was left to fill the silence was the low rumble of his truck as the tires drove over the dirt path.

Clement put his focus back on the road. He’d been driving on it for what felt like hours, with nothing more than the view thick pine trees surrounding him. He was starting to wonder if he was making any progress at all.

He glanced over to his rearview mirror where a creased map hung from. He fixed the ends of his short, thin, black parted mustache before looking at the map. He squinted. He could just barely make out the red markings and notes in Macbeth’s handwriting, specifying that the road he was on was indeed a short cut to the airship’s landing spot.

It certainly didn’t feel like it. This just felt like another excuse to get him to drive for hours on end again.

He rolled down his window a bit to let some fresh air in and fixed his posture.

At least he was doing something more than delivering produce and furniture like he used to. At least he was actually being a part of something bigger, from helping with heists to bringing fellow Toppat members to different locations to suck them dry of their wealth.

Locations such as those big, fancy, over-the-top casinos with their flashy, obnoxious lights, or those sleek, polished banks with walls thicker than the airship’s. The sort of places ran by sticks who had the luxury of always staying home. They didn’t have to drive hundreds of miles to get what they needed, they didn’t have to worry about a deadline so much to the point they ruined their well being just to make it on time, they probably never even thought about those who delivered their precious jewels or their luxurious furniture. The drivers were nothing more than an extension of their property.

Clement gripped the wheel tighter. His nails started to tear into the worn down, brown fabric that covered it.

He may have a few gripes with the clan, but compared to his previous occupation? Those gripes were nothing.

Clement suddenly passed by a yellow, diamond-shaped sign. His eyes lit up. He had no idea what it said, but it was a sign. There were other people around here. He wasn’t driving in circles. He was finally making progress. Perhaps he was nearing the end of this dreadful forest.

He pressed down on the gas pedal. The truck let out a low rumble as it sped up.

He passed by another sign. Clement’s eyes scanned it in anticipation.

‘UTILITY WORK AHEAD’

He passed by another. It was noticeably crooked.

‘SLOW'

Then he passed another. It’s bottom half was horribly dented.

‘ROAD NARROWS’

Then another. It looked like someone tried to rip the sign off the post.

‘NEXT EXIT—‘

The rest of the text was unreadable.

He pressed on the gas pedal more.

He drove by a large, yellow excavator that had its bottom half covered in dry mud and rust. It teetered off the edge of the road.

The walkie talkie started to buzz, “This is Macb… How’re you doin’…?”

Clement’s eyes started to dart around. He grabbed the talkie and spoke into it, “Doing fine. Tired, but fine.”

He noticed more and more abandoned construction machines just barely out of reach of his headlights.

“It looks like this road is being worked on.” He continued, “A shame they couldn’t have finished before I had to drive through here.”

“Ha! That’s construction for ya. They nev…When ya ne…” Macbeth’s voice kept cutting off.

Clement kept his eyes peeled. Whatever was being worked on here must’ve been abandoned, but why leave the machines? Why keep the signs—

Clement’s truck suddenly ran over something. His body jerked up and his head hit the ceiling. A loud BANG shot through the air.

Clement’s eyes widened.

The truck started to sputter and slow.

And then it stopped.

Clement hugged onto his walkie talkie and took some deep breaths.

“Good gr…Did ya get shot or somethin’?!”

Clement steadied himself. He pressed the button and spoke again, “No. Ran over something.”

He peered into his side view mirror to see what he had hit, but it was too dark to tell.

“Do ya…spare?”

Clement kept staring into the mirror, “Yes, but—“

“Go ’n…it.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“Maybe it isn’t…” Clement’s voice dwindled as he slowly grabbed the wheel again and pressed on the gas pedal. It let out a pathetic cough and barely inched forward.

He pressed harder. The truck hacked and didn’t move.

He floored it. Through the sound of his truck spitting its life out, he prayed for it to move. He prayed he didn’t have to step out. Yet it never budged.

Clement got off the pedal.

He kept staring at the darkness ahead. There was nothing in front of him, only a dirt road consumed by the night, and what looked like hundreds of bugs now drawn to his lights, yet he felt a gaze pierce through it all.

He brought the walkie talkie close to him, holding it the same way he would with another person’s hand for comfort.

He slowly pressed down on the button, “I’m going out to inspect the damage.” He said as he opened the door and stepped out.

He walked over to the front of the truck and knelt down, swatting at the moths and mosquitos that surrounded him.

He swallowed as his eyes adjusted to the headlights hitting his face. He was able to make out the two flat tires with… Large gaping holes and nails stuck to the rubber.

What did he hit?

“Clem…It lookin’…?” Macbeth’s garbled voice came out.

Clement stood up, the cold night’s breeze grazed his face, “Not good. I think I’ll—I think you need to send someone over.” He walked past the truck and towards… Whatever he hit.

“…Wha…You need…Now?”

Clement squeezed his eyes shut and spoke again, “Yes, yes I know this is sudden, I know. I’m sorry, but—“ He stopped when he saw what laid across the street.

A large chunk of a dead tree that had hundreds of jagged nails and broken tips of drills hammered into it, along with barbed wire hastily wrapped around. He didn’t like the strange, brown stains on it, nor the strong smell of rust.

He took another step closer and knelt down to get a better look. Small rocks dug into his knee as he studied the—

A snap echoed through the forest.

He shot back up.

He brought the device back to his face.

“Macbeth, someone’s here.”

“…You…Need…” Static overtook Macbeth’s words.

“Macbeth, I need you to send someone to me now.”

No response.

“Macbeth?”

The static grew louder.

“Macbeth!?”

“…Hide…”

Clement rushed back into his truck, threw the device in, and locked the doors.

He scrambled back into position and floored the gas pedal as if it’d suddenly work again.

He frantically shook and jerked the gear shift as if it’d make a difference.

He kept hitting any and every button he could on his truck, he mashed whatever blinking light he saw and turned anything that could be turned. The jutted, loud sounds his truck made, the puffs of smoke that’d leave the tailpipe, Clement thought the truck was going to burst into flames—

Then there was a knock at the window.

Clement stared through the windshield, trying to avoid whoever was next to him, but he could see their hand out of the corner of his eye.

They knocked again.

Clement reached for the glove compartment and turned his head right as he opened it.

Another stick stared back at him.

Clement could just barely make out their mangled beard and wrinkled bandana that was tied over their head, along with the tens of moths that fluttered around them.

“You one of ‘em construction workers?” Their voice was husky and southern.

Clement hesitated for a moment. He narrowed his eyes and tried to study the sliver of expression on the other stick’s face. It was too dark, though.

“What?” Clement finally responded.

“Those big men in those bright vests ’n fancy hats.” The stick said. He took a step closer to the truck’s window, “You have one of ‘em fancy hats.”

Clement shifted back. His eyes flickered down just in time to see the stick’s arms… Move…? Reposition something…? His throat tightened.

“No, I—I didn’t even know there was construction going on, I—“ Clement looked around as if there was anything more than darkness surrounding them. When he looked back to the window, he saw the other stick had gotten even closer, “…I thought this road was abandoned. I was using it as a short cut. Didn’t think anyone lived out here. I can leave.”

The other stick didn’t say anything for a moment. The sound of rustling leaves and chirping bugs filled the silence.

“Open th’window more.” The other stick said.

Clement blinked, not even trying to hide his discomfort anymore.

“Open th’window.”

Clement’s fingers twitched. The window was already a crack open, just enough for the other stick’s eyes to pierce through, and even that felt like too much.

Yet Clement obliged.

He reached a hand out and pressed a button on his door. His truck let out a low hum.

His eyes darted back to the cracked open glove compartment. What glanced back at him was his last resort.

Before he could say anything more, the stick grabbed onto the truck door and leaned in. Their face was an inch away from Clement’s. Clement took the chance to finally study them.

He had a long, bushy, beard that was the same shade of brown as the bark on the pine trees. His brows were thick and slightly raised, his stained, orange bandana was adorned with loosely lined, coral-colored flowers, while his eyes were wide and wild, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

Clement felt his glasses start to slide down. As soon as he pushed them back up, he saw something move—move—in the stick’s beard.

Clement couldn’t help but yelp and try to move away.

The other stick backed up and covered his beard.

“Don’t mind ‘em.” He said. A centipede sprouted from the hair, crawled across his hand, and went back in, “Where ya headin’?”

“I’m going to meet some friends.”

That wasn’t necessarily a lie.

Clement moved away from the glove compartment and snatched the map off of the mirror. He handed it to the stick.

The stick grabbed it with a dirtied, blistered hand and locked eyes with Clement for a moment too long before he moved closer to the headlights to get a better look at it.

As he did that, Clement was able to get a better look at him.

His strange, hunched stature, the way his hands shook slightly—

There was a stained, double barrel shotgun in his other hand.

Clement’s heart pounded.

He was stuck in this forest with a savage.

He was going to die here. He was going to get mauled.

He was going to get his head blasted apart and remains splayed across the trees.

That explained the empty machinery.

That explained why it was so lifeless here.

This stick was insane. This stick was going to kill him.

Not if Clement killed him first, though.

The truck might be stuck here, but he will be no sitting duck.

Not tonight.

Clement reached into the glove compartment and grabbed onto his pistol, but before he had the chance to yank it out, the other stick handed the map back to him.

“Shoot, you really ain’t a part of that construction crew, are ya?” His tone had turned lighthearted so quickly.

Clement stared at him.

“I’m sorry for this whole mix up. Guess yer one’o th’finer folks.” The stick glanced at the front of the truck then back to Clement, “I’ll fix up yer tires ’n give ya directions to a diner, how bout that? We’ll go together.”

“Together—?” Clement sputtered, “I don’t even know who you are, I—I need to meet with—do you live here or—“

The stick ignored his worries and walked off into the darkness.

And all Clement did was sit there.

He should’ve shot him.

He should’ve followed that stick to wherever he was going, grabbed the tires, and shot him.

But instead he remained, waiting for his ‘help’ to arrive so they could go to a diner together.

[pix4japan]

Vending Machines: From Pokémon Collaborations to Disaster Preparedness

Location: Gumyoji, Minami Ward, Yokohama, Japan Timestamp: 17:45・2024/04/09

Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter ISO 400 for 1/250 sec. at ƒ/2 Classic Negative film simulation

Japan boasts an impressive array of vending machines, numbering around 2.6 million as of December 2023. In the span of the last four decades, I've witnessed significant shifts in this vending landscape. Notably, there has been a decline in machines vending alcohol and cigarettes, paralleled by a rise in machines offering both hot and cold beverages from a single unit. Among these innovations, my personal favorite is the advent of machines equipped with QR code scanning capabilities, allowing seamless payment through an app on my smartphone.

In my photo, two distinct elements immediately captured my eye: the presence of a Pokémon character adorning the vending machine, and upon closer inspection, the machine's disaster response capabilities.

The Ito En beverage company has partnered with the popular Pokémon Go game for a joint promotion of the game and Ito En drinks. Beyond its promotional features, this vending machine also serves a crucial role in the local community as a disaster response vending machine. In the event of a severe earthquake and subsequent power outage, it can dispense drinks at no cost, providing essential relief to those affected by the crisis.

While I sincerely hope to never have to utilize the services of a disaster response vending machine, it's reassuring to know that some large corporations are stepping up to make their services and products accessible to society during times of crisis.

Check out my full write-up (a concise 2-minute read), which includes a glossary and references for further reading (https://www.pix4japan.com/blog/20240409-vending).

[infinitebrians]

Favorite Games of 2023 Part 5: Dragon Warrior 1+2

I now after having played Dragon Warrior 1+2 (now commonly referred to as Dragon Quest 1 and 2) for the Gameboy Color completely understand why this series became the massive cultural juggernaut that it is now. I played these two games as a complete spur of the moment thing during the last two weeks of the year due to being totally surprised by how pretty the Gameboy Color remake of Dragon Quest 1 looked while watching a Gigaboots stream ( https://youtu.be/1ELg0p31zZI?feature=shared ) of it. I really could not get over how pretty the battle backgrounds looked and how many unique locations they had, it made a limitation of the game (battles only having one enemy per encounter) one of it’s strongest aspects to me. This is of course is in addition to the really fun character and enemy sprites all being distinct and memorable as well. I didn’t even approach this game expecting to want to finish it let alone finish both but the way the games felt like they were always moving forward (DQ1 more than 2 in that regard) kept me interested all the way to the end.

Dragon Quest 1’s combat is as simple as it always appeared to be, a game entirely consisting of one versus one matches of trying to out damage the other. It was a game of breaking new ground in terms of video game genre so it has an excuse at least and even then as with the GBC remake, it’s still decently fun. As a result though, jumping over to Dragon Quest 2 immediately afterwards with its introduction of party members for both you and your opponents felt world changing. Being ganged up on was scary and learning spells that hit multiple enemies felt like a massive upgrade in power. What made the battle systems in both games really click was just how snappy they felt. Random encounters were almost always over within a minute at maximum, attacks are quick, menuing feels immediate, and enemies are felled within one or two rounds. It’s a popcorn like approach to combat, small tasty satisfying bites, easily consumed and never distracting.

What made it more fun to me was trying to find the most optimal way to finish encounters in Dragon Quest 2 in the most efficient way possible (least rounds taken, without wasting unnecessary amounts of magic points). The enemies were all really easily identifiable as to what they’ll do in an encounter (be tanky, heavy hitters, poison appliers) and what made them interesting was the variety of ways they were grouped up with other enemies. Playing through these encounters in manner of quickly reading the situation and giving a fast response in turn eventually made me associate the game with that of Tetris. In both, you’re given the capability to read your current issue at hand and come to a best possible solution in split second timing. In both, you’re never made to feel like theres only ever one way to solve this problem but instead given the freedom to utilize improvisation. This fast, responsive setup to its gameplay always just clicked well with me in creating a flow state that gave a good feeling of thinking without having to think about it.

I totally played both of these with guides and with a good amount of use with the 3DS’s virtual console save state feature. In Dragon Quest 1 it was mainly just always having a map open the whole time so I could know where to go and what town/dungeon was where. In Dragon Quest 2, I don’t think I would have liked that game anywhere near as much as I do currently if I attempted to do it’s convoluted, worldwide search for trinkets that are only hinted at. A friend gave me a PDF of a scanned Prima strategy guide made for the games when they were originally released, it felt like the most appropriate, nostalgic way to play this sort of game. I even did what I always did as a kid and flipped through the whole thing looking for cool art of your characters, one of my favorite parts of my dad always buying the strategy guides for Zelda games or looking at my cousin’s Final Fantasy guides. I attempted to minimize the direct following of the guides and try to figure most things out on my own but after spending what felt like an appropriate amount of time with Dragon Quest 2’s fetch quests, I just did what the guide told me to the end. As for save states, I mainly just used them as a more modern means of saving the game AND a means of trapping any and every metal slime i found in a time loop hell until they gave me the tons of experience that I desired. As a result of that, I found grinding enjoyable and being powerful to just crush everyone afterwards satisfying.

Something I kept joking with my friends while playing through Dragon Quest 2 was the idea that ‘if I can finish Dragon Quest 2 before the end of 2023, then that announced remake of Dragon Quest 3 has to come out in 2024!’ Over the week of playing it the joke became more of a self imposed challenge. This resulted with spending all day December 31st finishing the game up (though partially that was because I just could not put the game down, I was just really enjoying the game at that point). So I accomplished my goal and now the curse of that Dragon Quest 3 remake is lifted and will absolutely come out this year and if it does it’s entirely because of me, you’re welcome. Now though my issue is I really want to play DQ3 right now and now I feel like I should wait out for that remake. I got the want for more Dragon Quest and now I gotta hold it off for the time being (or I can just play that GBC remake of 3, have you seen the enemy animations in that they’re incredible!)

[snapmite1998]

Crimson Dawn’s Use of Smugglers: Evading Republic and Law Enforcement

Overview

In their pursuit of dominance and expansion, Crimson Dawn consistently engages in illegal activities requiring discreet and secure transportation. To evade the Republic and law enforcement, they hire experienced smugglers who excel in navigating dangerous routes and avoiding detection. These smugglers play a crucial role in transporting illicit cargo, which includes weapons, spice, stolen goods, rare artifacts, and more, ensuring that Crimson Dawn’s operations remain uninterrupted and profitable.

The Role of Smugglers

1. Expertise and Skills

- Navigational Mastery: Smugglers are skilled pilots capable of navigating the galaxy’s most treacherous routes. Their knowledge of lesser-known hyperlanes and hidden pathways allows them to avoid heavily patrolled areas and checkpoints.

- Stealth and Evasion: These operatives are adept at using stealth technology and evasive maneuvers to avoid detection by Republic forces and law enforcement. They utilize jamming devices, cloaking fields, and other advanced technologies to stay off the radar.

2. Discreet Operations

- Covert Cargo: Smugglers specialize in transporting illegal cargo without drawing attention. This includes using false compartments, hidden storage spaces, and other deceptive measures to conceal their illicit payload.

- False Manifesting: To cover their tracks, smugglers often use falsified documents and manifests. These forgeries ensure that any inspections or scans performed by authorities don’t reveal the true nature of their cargo.

Types of Illegal Cargo

1. Weapons and Armaments

- Advanced Weaponry: Smugglers transport an array of advanced weaponry for Crimson Dawn, including blaster rifles, disruptors, thermal detonators, and heavy ordinance. These weapons are destined for use by Crimson Dawn forces or for sale to allied factions.

- Black Market Arms: Access to black market weapons also means that smugglers often transport highly restricted or experimental technology, ensuring Crimson Dawn maintains a technological edge over its rivals.

2. Spice and Illicit Substances

- Spice Trade: The lucrative spice trade requires discreet and reliable transportation. Smugglers haul valuable spice from production sites to distribution points, evading customs and law enforcement along the way.

- Recreational Drugs: In addition to spice, other recreational and controlled substances are smuggled across the galaxy. These shipments generate substantial profit, funding Crimson Dawn’s operations.

3. Stolen Goods and Artifacts

- Rare Artifacts: Smugglers transport stolen relics, artworks, and valuable cultural items. These treasures are either sold to collectors or used to bolster Crimson Dawn’s dark side research.

- Pilfered Technology: Advanced technologies, including droid components, starship parts, and scientific equipment, are frequently stolen and smuggled. These items enhance Crimson Dawn’s capabilities and resource pool.

4. Sentient Cargo

- Human Trafficking: Tragically, smugglers are also involved in transporting slaves and trafficked individuals. These sentient beings are often bound for Zygerrian slave markets or directly to Crimson Dawn’s labor camps.

- Prisoners of War: During conflicts, captured enemy combatants, political prisoners, and notable figures are smuggled to secure locations for interrogation, ransom, or forced labor.

Hiring Process and Contracting

1. Selection Criteria

- Reputation and Reliability: Crimson Dawn hires smugglers based on their reputation for reliability and discretion. Only those with proven records in successfully completing missions without detection are considered.

- Network and Connections: Smugglers with extensive networks and connections within the underworld are highly valued. These connections facilitate smoother operations and provide additional layers of protection.

2. Contractual Agreements

- Payment and Incentives: Smugglers are well-compensated for their services, with payment structures that include upfront fees, hazard bonuses, and percentages of profits from the cargo they transport.

- Secrecy Clauses: Contracts often include strict confidentiality agreements, ensuring that all information regarding the nature of the cargo and the specifics of the mission remains undisclosed.

Methods and Tactics

1. Stealth Ships and Modified Freighters

- Custom Modifications: Smugglers frequently use heavily modified freighters and stealth ships. These modifications include advanced propulsion systems, reinforced hulls, and state-of-the-art cloaking devices.

- Hidden Compartments: Ships are equipped with hidden compartments and false panels to store illicit goods, making it nearly impossible for authorities to uncover the true cargo without extensive searches.

2. Diversion and Deception

- Decoy Ships: To further avoid detection, smugglers sometimes employ decoy ships. These ships lead law enforcement on wild chases, allowing the true cargo to pass through unnoticed.

- Transport Convoys: Smugglers might also travel in convoys, blending in with legitimate trading vessels to avoid raising suspicion. These convoys use coordinated flight paths and communications to maintain cover.

The Smuggler’s Journey

1. Pre-Mission Preparations

- Route Planning: Before embarking on a mission, smugglers meticulously plan their routes, identifying potential hazards, checkpoints, and safe havens. This preparation minimizes the risk of exposure.

- Coordination with Contacts: Smugglers communicate with their contacts within Crimson Dawn to ensure all aspects of the mission are understood and that contingency plans are in place.

2. Execution

- Real-Time Adaptation: During transport, smugglers remain adaptable, ready to alter their course in response to unforeseen challenges. Their ability to think on their feet is essential for evading patrols and navigating dangerous territories.

- Delivery and Handover: Upon reaching their destination, smugglers execute a discreet handover of the cargo, ensuring all items are securely transferred to Crimson Dawn operatives without attracting attention.

Impact on Crimson Dawn Operations

1. Sustained Illegal Activities

- Continuous Supply: The efficient and discreet transport of illegal cargo keeps Crimson Dawn’s operations running smoothly. This continuous supply line is critical for maintaining the organization’s power and influence.

- Expansion of Reach: The use of expert smugglers allows Crimson Dawn to extend its reach into new territories without alerting law enforcement or rival factions, facilitating further expansion and consolidation of power.

2. Financial Gains

- Revenue Generation: The illicit cargo transported by smugglers represents significant financial value. This revenue funds various aspects of Crimson Dawn’s enterprise, including weapon procurement, bribes, and the construction of projects like the Blood Star.

- Economic Control: By dominating the illegal trade through these smuggling operations, Crimson Dawn exerts considerable economic control over the black market, reinforcing its position in the criminal underworld.

Conclusion

Crimson Dawn’s strategic use of experienced smugglers for the transport of illegal cargo highlights the organization’s adaptability and cunning. By hiring skilled operatives from the galaxy’s most dangerous and discreet circles, they ensure the seamless execution of their illicit activities while avoiding the scrutiny of the Republic and law enforcement.

This reliance on smugglers not only sustains their illegal operations but also enables them to expand their influence and control within the galaxy’s underworld. As long as Crimson Dawn and its network of smugglers remain in place, the organization’s power and reach will continue to grow, unimpeded by the watchful eyes of the authorities.

[gamerwoman3d]

There was a post on mk subreddit where someone posted a model that (I think at least) looks a lot like Bi Han.

His name's is Ibere Nakamura. If you look for the post you can find the comparison pic

My understanding is he already denied the claim, according to this source:

Screenshot of the source is below the cut, jn case twitter is unavailable. Ibere Nakamura is clearly a gorgeous man, but a scanned computer render of his face would look different from Bi-Han.

I still think it's Stephen Oyoung.

From a technical standpoint, Nakamura is NOT in close physical proximity to Warner Bros/NRS studios. A quick glance shows he is Brazilian and Japanese and his management company is based in Italy. That would make it difficult for him to acquire and accept work contracts in the USA where the game was made. He also has no visible prior videogame or mocap experience.

[Above Images - Characters based on Computer Generated imagery utilizing Stephen Oyoung's facial scan data.]

Oyoung, on the other hand, already has a credit in the game ["kredit," Sektor, MK1.] He has already done motion capture, facial mocap, and sat for 3D face modeling for another major game studio IN Los Angeles where Warner Bros/NRS is headquartered. (Disney/Marvel Spider-Man, as Mr. Negative.) That means he has already done the type of work required to create an angry scary asian video game character, IN the same geolocation as NRS/WB (Disney lot and WB ranch lots are right next door.) WB/NRS would have needed that skillset at that location at that timeframe. AND He already would have been on set/cleared by security to enter the WB premises just for the VO sessions.

[Above Images: A computer generated character based on Disney/Marvel's facial scans of Stephen Oyoung compared to computer generated images of Bi-Han.]

It is understandable if Oyoung does not look like his characters after the computer geometry scan/final render. Even Noah Fleder doesn't look like Kenshi to me, and he is 💯 Kenshi’s model, Konfirmed.

But what I'm seeing is similarities between the sculpts for Mr. Negative [Disney/Marvel] and the sculpts for Bi-Han [WB/NRS]. The 3D faces from the scan can look so different from the actors' faces that it can be near unrecognizable.

[Above Images - Same guy, according to computer geometry]

It would ALSO explain why there's no official kredit to Sub-Zero's face model. The imdb for this game is a clusterf*ck right now. Tony Chung is credited as Sub-Zero's face model for MK11 and we know he's also Scorpion's face in MK1. Both were a version of Kuai Liang. But in ONE game Kuai Liang is Scorpion and ONE game Kuai Liang is Sub-Zero. So it's easy for the folks at IMDB (who probably never played all these games) to assume that Sub-Zero's actor from the last game IS Sub-Zero from the current game, especially considering that there is ONE NUMBER DIFFERENCE between MK1 and MK11.

Ultimately, if Stephen Oyoung is the face of Bi-Han (Sub-Zero) in MK1, then it is between him, wb, nrs, imdb, his agent, and his management, to ensure that he gets properly credited for his work. And if an agent goes to imdb one day and sees he's kredited as Sektor on MK1, that agent might just check that "Ensure WB have Stephen credited in MK1" off their todo list. This is true ESPECIALLY if correcting imdb's listing means they have to fend off a sea of misinformed beardnecks who can't tell the difference between MK1 and MK11, or who have no idea how to explain the difference between SubScorp(Traditional) from SubScorp(Problematic).

[Above Images: An image of Stephen Oyoung compared to computer generated images of Bi-Han.]

Tony Chung also never to my knowledge claimed to be Bi-Han's (Sub-Zero's) MK1 model: Chung only claims to be Kuai Liang.

But it would be so easy to get misinformed by someone who misread an article. "Tony Chung was Sub-Zero and Scorpion in mortal kombat" is a true statement. But so were other actors, such as John Turk and all the actors who played Scorpion/Hanzo prior to Tony Chung's takeover in MK1. But of course Tony probably wasn't BOTH characters in the SAME release.

It's a headache for people who KNOW Midway Mortal Kombat lore and WB/NRS New Era MK1 lore to explain Sub-Zero, OR Kuai Liang, OR Bi-Han, OR Noob Saibot, OR Kuai Liang's Scorpion transformation to others in the know. Imagine trying to explain it to some office worker who doesn't play these games and doesn't care about them.

[Above Images: Stephen Oyoung's Mr. Negative character has vantablack skin and glowing eyes when using his power. This would be important to WB's casting decision for Bi-Han, as Noob Saibot will theoretically look similar. WB/NRS had to cast someone whose facial features will still track properly and look good when the character is essentially "in dark mode"]

I imagine workers in the departments in charge of doing the kredits can make mistakes with that particular kredit easily.

Ultimately, I don't see Warner Brothers and Nether Realm Studios bothering to cast Stephen Oyoung, a highly accomplished ASIAN actor with Disney and MARVEL experience in martial arts MoCap purely for some cyborg effort noises. Not when he has *that face* and that experience with crafting a game character for a top competitor.

And not just any type of character - a terrifyingly powerful, charasmatic, murderous leader of an ancient ASIAN clan with top tier martial arts prowess. That's a tall order, and Stephen Oyoung fills it. He filled it in Spider-Man. And I think he filled it in Mortal Kombat, too.

I've been wrong in the past. We may never know for certain the identity of Bi-Han’s face model. For all I know, Stephen took one look at this dickcicle blog and told his agent "On second thought let's *not* announce that I was the face model for that guy." I wouldn't blame him.

[Above Images: Bi-Han and Stephen Oyoung make a point.]

But it could also be that he, like a lot of actors, game creators, mocap specialists, and other creatives, just have their hands full at the moment. The SAG-AFTRA strike is over and there's still a lack of protection for most of the VOs, mocap folk, game folk, and live streaming entertainers. It isn't impossible that he's not on great terms with the studios if he elected to speak out about some of the behind-the-scenes problems of the game-entertainment industry.

He may not even legally be in a position to ask them for kredit where kredit is due.

It's honestly the only explanation I can think of as to WHY the fuck we do not have a clear-ass answer for whose faces we're looking at in these damn games.

Below is a screenshot from January 29, 2024