#and whatever the fuck [redacted] is doing with the human experiments

[loregoddess]

if I had a quarter for every time there was a zombie army of any size in a trpg/srpg, I would have an ungodly number of quarters, why does this keep happening

[messenger-of-stupidity]

So I went hiking yesterday and climbed on some old lime factory ruins and saw some graffiti. (Lots of it actually.)

So here's what I think the redacted characters would graffiti (if anything):

David: No. He wouldn't graffiti. Man prolly believes in the sanctity of nature and leaving things either as or better than he found it

Angel: Cock and balls.

Asher: Jigglypuff. He wants everyone to behold the splendor.

Baabe: honestly, despite the fact I hc them as an art nerd, I don't think they would graffiti. Maybe with chalk so that way it's temporary. But idk what they would say.

Milo: either "Milo was here" or "Shut up Asher"

Sweetheart: doesn't matter. It's a mess. Because "Art is abstract, Milo. Besides, it kind of looks like that time Aggro spooked you and you shifted and made a mess in our old apartment"

Sam: he wouldn't. He's on the same wavelength as David.

Darlin: some kind of inside joke so that way everyone in the pack (and clan) knows they were there.

Vincent: a purposefully cheesy inspirational quote in the shittiest lettering you've ever seen.

Lovely: a smiley face because they just want their life to calm down so they can enjoy immortality with their stupid boyfriend.

Porter: he wouldn't, but not because he cares about sanctity or whatever. He just doesn't see the point.

Treasure: nah. They don't see the point either. They also don't have a marker or spray paint or anything with them. Porter just kinda zipped them into the middle of fucking nowhere all of the sudden. Somehow they lost a shoe on the way.

Elliot: yes. Boy is making a whole landscape because it's in his DNA and his inner Bob Ross is screaming at him that there's no mistakes, only happy little accidents

Sunshine: they put a sun and a little river for Brachium since he can't deface property with them :(

Blake: he's bringing a powerwasher to destroy all the graffiti

Bestie: they weren't aware it was an option because Blake is sheltering them from the existence of graffiti to keep them pure.

Aaron: no. He doesn't have the time

Smartass: they're busy too.

Ollie: no. He'd rather be inside playing board games

Baby: no, they're inside watching Ollie explain a board game for three hours

Ivan: yeah. Idk what, but he is

(I'm not doing Ivan's listeners)

Guy: it's just memes. There pepe the frog. There's rainbows and telling people that "they're putting chemicals in the water to turn all the frogs gay"

Honey: they put Guy's phone number so he gets spammed because his graffiti tastes are as good as his humor. Make of that what you will.

Geordi: no. He's too anxious about getting in trouble to even think about it.

Cutie: yes. They're putting passing people's thoughts on the wall.

Camelopardalis: no.

(He has too many listeners and I isn't remember them and they dint have enough personality for me to be able to tell)

Vega: no. It's too human.

Warden: once. They felt bad and tried to get rid of it afterwards. It was just a stick figure with horns.

Hush: yes. He saw it once and wanted to try it. Now he's wanted in twelve states for defacing government property. He just copies what he's seen.

Doc: nope. They never understood the draw.

Damien: nope. He's a rule follower

Lasko: no. He's too anxious

Dear: yes. But it's just dad jokes.

Huxley: once. He felt bad about it but it was certainly an experience. It was a tree and a stick dude.

Gavin: absolutely. It's hilarious. It ranges from just crude jokes to just random circles. No one knows the meeting, but it's becoming like a mini legend in Dahlia. If you find the holy circle (because it's a perfect circle. He has good wrist control) you have to leave an offering. He's making a cult by accident but he still finds it funny

Freelancer: yes, but only because Caelum saw Gavin doing it and thought it looked like fun and he wanted Freelancer's help.

Caelum: he drew a bunch of shaky smiley faces to "brighten peoples day. Because when they see all these smiles, they'll want to smile too, and that will make them feel good. Which makes me feel good. Which helps me make others feel good. Which makes me feel goo-"

Morgan: no.

Seer obscura: no. But they were tempted to give vague warnings to people to try to help them

[florapocalypses]

Sting me once, shame on you.

Sting me twice, shame on me.

[🌊] CONTEXT ; Experiment gone wrong !!! Reader is a jellyfish, dottores experimenting for a way to turn them into human, Readers immortal and also fembodied or they just have tiddies, Both reader and dottore are meanies, Labrat x Scientist relationship? is it even a relationship??

—Pre-Context abt reader ; Reader has no gender for this one, they just have tiddies wether their man tits or breasts. also they have no puss or dick, their lower body is just legit looks like a jellyfishes body.

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

Its been several years. Knowing how you've lived in 'safe' waters, you didnt worry about death much. It was a long, quiet two houndred years alone in the deep sea of teyvat that you've spent all alone.

Untill he found you.

You never went above the waters, staying a safe distance from the mortals that lived on land.

The Fatui took you away, sending you to a lab within snezhnaya. Surrendering you to a blue haired fucked up looking 'Doctor'. He never told you what his name was, nor did he ever look consistent. Some days he looks as if he was in his late 30s, other days he'd look around 20. Whats up with that? You wondered.

You wont complain much though, you have your own personal and private little area or 'pool' was what the doctor said. Letting you do whatever, in exchange, he'd run experiments on your body.

It was obvious that it cant be the same doctor that you kept talking to, with how different he acts every time he checks on you, and how his age changes.

Are all humans like this? You wondered.

Nonetheless, despite his inconsistence, he still seemed to have one goal.

"Have you ever wanted to become a human?" The Doctor asked, his hands behind his back. You could feel his grim eyes on you.

His hands cautiously touched your stingers, accidentally brushing against the bulb and triggering you to shock him.

"Tch," His eyes narrowed, retracting his covered hand. Thankfully he was wearing a full-body suit this time, you already poisoned three of his younger clones. He walked from you as the other clones from behind the glass watched and took notes. The clones hand had twitched as he walked away from your pool.

You looked up at him from the pool, "Its not my fault, Did he not tell you to be careful where you touch?" You mocked the older clone as he left.

Its been several hours, numerous experiments have been going on one after the other. You want to be human, Dottore wants to 'study' your species, its a win-win in your eyes.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[⛲] NSFW incoming , dw its kinda light !! (kkukuukukuku 'inCOMING' kekekekekek)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your dull eyes glanced over to the metallic doors, hearing shuffling from the other side.

The doors opened and surprise! Its another clone— you think, but this one doesn't have that one tube thingy that the previous ones wore. Eh, maybe its somewhere more discreet. No way the real Doctor would come in without any protection while there weren't any clones outside of the glass window. Right?

He motioned you to bring your upper-body forward to him, And you did so with little to no reluctance, as you went closer you examined him for a moment. Eyes narrowed as they practically scanned him.

Oh, it isnt a clone. Its him

"[REDACTED]," Dottore called out your name with a faux softness, unable to read his expression and intentions as his crow-like mask covered half of his face. Flicking your forehead when you slightly leaned forward at the mention of your name. "Quit being such a pest."

"Ouh—" You whine, glaring at him, pointing your stingers in his direction. "Why did you even come here unarmed??" You question.

"Because its my lab??" Dottore replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he rolled up his sleeve. Revealing the many stings, scars, bruises, and scratch marks that covered his hands up to his forearms.

"Another experiment?" tilting your head slightly as you looked at his hands on his lap. Placing your palms at the edge of the pool.

"Precisely, though i trust this one wont have anything to do with 'our' goal, just a reward for your good behaviour, Dear Pet." He said, pulling you up and sitting you infront of him. Your cold, wet back against his clothed chest.

"Oh..?" Looking up at him with your hand on your lap as he pulled you closer to him. Your body dripping and making the floor beneath you slippery. "Oh!" You let that sink.

You waited patiently as his hands unwrapped the cloth covering your chest, holding your hair away as he focused on undoing the wrappings. You let out a soft exhale as the pressure and tightness of the bounds were loosened then removed, his hands taking their place as he gave your chest a slight squeeze.

His chin rested on the top of your head as his fingers ran circles around your chest, massaging and caressing each surface. Dottore releases a quiet hum as he did so.

"Look at me," The doctor said, to which you unquestioningly obliged. Dull eyes locking in with his covered ones. Grabbing your chin and forcing your mouth open as his lips ghosted above your own, "Open." He commanded.

Sticking your tongue out as he ran his against yours, eyes closed as he continued to play with your chest as his tongue abused your own.

"Doctor—" You murmured, your hands gripped on his lap for stability. Feeling his enlarged shaft against your lower back. "Can i..?" You muttered inbetween the kiss.

[🌊] What a lovely question <3 Your so considerate !! (i want this fucker tazed)

[rosetintedchainsaw]

Jessa Lore Characters (in cool roblox concept form cause i do not have the energy to sketch any of these little fuckers)

Cathy Rivera: Jessa’s former best friend from when she was enrolled in a human high school. Originally an outcast with a heart of gold, good natured, and slightly paranoid, Cathy eventually grew decently jaded and bitter after dealing with all of Jessa's demon bullshit. Her and Jessa aren't on good terms anymore, and haven't seen each other in ages.

Zachry Flores: Went to high school with Jessa, and was a good friend of hers. Obsessed with growing his shitty rock band, he'd definitely be that one guy that'd ask you to "name three songs" if he ever spotted you wearing a band tee. He eventually developed feelings for Jessa, and after an abusive and turbulent relationship, she ended up killing him after he discovered the truth about what she really is, although it was mainly in self defense.

Leslie Delaney: Envision every single campy but kinda iconic Disney Channel mean girl you've ever seen, and you'll get her. Despite starting out as Jessa's main rival and nuisance in school, the pair eventually grew quite close. Especially after she dug up information on Jessa's past.

Ms. Touko Arslanyan: Jessa’s prescribed therapist while she was being held in the Morning Star Youth Correctional Facility. Kind, patient, and tragically naive and optimistic, she wished to help Jessa in any way she could. Take a wild guess as to how that went. (Based off of the therapist from the Serial Experiments Lain PS1 Game, which honestly pretty much inspired that whole part of Jessa's story tbh)

Vlux: A Wrath Demon that Jessa eventually summoned during a rather lonely and depressive time in her life. (Like, a month or so before getting Devil Train'ed.) A weapons specialist from Hell that stole high-quality and dangerous weapons from the rich to sell back to the poor for a more accessible price. Him and Jessa grew quite close, and eventually started a relationship. She eventually lashed out at him one night, due to the stress and toll that turning into Zeleria was putting on her. As a result, he literally kicked her out of her motel room, and left her to her own devices. (I wanted to give him a kinda old-tech steampunky look, but Roblox had shit choices for that, so I just said fuck it and made him a spiky goth thing goddamnit :( )

Satan: <redacted ruh roh raggy> (don't worry he's a good person I just have no clue how to shortly summarize all the stuff that happens with him, I'll do it in her lore posts tho yay)

(I kinda wanted to go for a whole "so angry and filled with rage that it burned out and turned to ash" look, which is why he's all white and grey and shit. I dunno if that makes sense, I just didn't wanna do the usual red. Also in Jessa's lore, Lucifer and Satan are two different dudes or whatever, I dunno if that aligns with Daisy World/Everything Else lore but eh it should be fine maybe sorta)

They are all my adorable lovely children I hate them all so much ♡

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL) Team Defy getting caught with their S/O

Redacting just in case and putting this under a cut.

NSF-W UNDER THE CUT!

By the way it's time for a T-DOLL FUN FACT!

TDFF 2: In Girls Frontline', they mention that T-Dolls can change their chassis (body) for different situations such as stealth, underwater, and etc.

And one of them is for, you guessed it, sex. This is canon. I'm not pulling your leg, I swear. I'm not sure who is the genius that even decided that PMC weapons should be able to fuck, but whatever, it's the future.

12 had no experience in bed, but it doesn't take her long to adjust with her confident attitude.

She's quickly on top, straddling S/O as their hands felt each other up.

Upon hearing the door open, 12 has to hold in laughter when she sees the look of disgust on AK-15's face. In combination with her S/O's completely shocked expression, it was a struggle.

(AK-15) "...Really? Ugh..."

(AK-12) "Hey, what I do with my darling in my own time is up to me."

(AK-15) "Shut. Up."

AK-15 awkwardly clears her throat, even though she doesn't need to physically do that.

(AK-15) "Just...be a little quieter. Thank you."

Glaring one last look at 12, she leaves.

Meanwhile, 12 is still smiling.

(AK-12) "Anyways...-"

She puts her knee against her S/O's groin, opening her eyes to reveal glowing pink irises.

(AK-12) "Now that we'll have no further interruptions...~"

15 was honestly lost in the moment with her S/O.

They were showing her a new side of love. She originally thought she wasn't ready, but they both took it slow and steady, letting her gradually get used to these...new feelings.

Though to be honest, she got too lost in the moment as her clothes were on the floor, and S/O was on top of her.

Until she heard the door open.

(AN-94) "Excuse me, I'm hearing a....Oh."

15 completely freezes, her eyes wide open as her and S/O stare awkwardly at AN-94, who was mid way through the door.

(AN-94) "...Apologies for the intrusion, as you were."

94 kept her blank expression, though both were unsure if they were thankful for that, before she turned the door to lock, and gently closed it.

Now thoroughly embarrassed, she supposed being caught by AN-94 was the best case scenario. Better her than AK-12 or, god forbid, RPK-16.

Several kisses to her neck is all it takes for her to forget about the interruption as she moans out in pleasure.

16 takes zero time to adjust to love making. After all, she watched many videos on the topic due to her fascination with humans.

It was clumsy for the first few minutes before she got a handle on things. Most notably, S/O.

(RPK-16) "Oh, enjoying the show?"

16 feels S/O freeze up upon realizing someone else was in the room, which was activating metaphorical switches in her she didn't even realize she had.

The door quickly shuts before S/O can see who it is.

(RPK-16) "...Who was that? Oh, don't worry. For right now, just keep your attention on me. After all, I have you all to myself."

16 does not care in the absolute slightest that she was caught.

It amuses her, actually. But, if S/O was uncomfortable with that, she wouldn't force that again on them.

It makes her more curious about what makes them tick in bed now, for this entire field was brand new to her.

She decides to investigate further by placing herself on top of S/O's face. Only one way to find out.~

94 is an absolute blushing mess.

She didn't even know it was possible for a T-Doll to blush this much. Her first time in bed made her more nervous than every operation she's been on combined.

But with S/O's loving embrace, she let them take the lead, her eyes half open as they continued to make love to her.

Her attention skyrockets the moment she hears the door slide open.

(AK-12) "...Nice. Proud of you, 94!~ Treat her right, S/O."

AK-12 gave them a thumbs up before letting the door slide closed.

94 turned to S/O, noting their expression through her panting.

(AN-94) "Um...Are other people not supposed to notice us?"

The question is pushed to the back of her mind as she feels S/O's hands grab her waist, making her yelp out in surprise before feeling immense pleasure.

===

BONUS:

(Springfield) "Ah, Commander, what brings you to the café this late at night?

...Too much noise in the barracks from DEFY? That's...impressive but concerning. Aren't your walls soundproof?"

[allmightyscroll-swag]

WHICH ONE?

My answer is

YES

I'm gonna tell you about my fucked up bird dude cause I love him actually

THIS IS HIM ^^^^ BENJAMIN!!!!

I'm gonna put everything under cut just for others' convenience lmao (also quick CW for things like unethical experimentation and the things that come with that)

SO . Like in this world magic exists but it's not like your usual magic. I kinda treat it like art in the sense that if, given time, effort and dedication, everyone can do art. But obviously, nobody does, because maybe they're just not interested in it, or learn really slow, or have given up on it. In the same vein some people learn and improve in magic very quickly while for others it takes their whole life. There's probably a very skilled 13 year old out there who can revive people and summon whole hurricanes just cause....

BUT IM GETTING OFF TRACK.

So this world is kinda set in the medieval times? So the understanding of magic is quite lacking. So in one kingdom some of the greatest scientific minds got together under the kings approval and were like 'yo. Let's check how far we can push this, actually,'

The first batches of experiments, labeled the beta stage, consisted of mostly animal based experimentation. Can you cast spells into multiple objects? Can you give a dog the ability to cast magic? Can you store magic? Can you modify things? How far?

.... Not many of the beta experiments survived. If any. But their sacrifices gave way for the second, proper stage to begin; human experimentation.

This is the stage Benjamin, or C-86 which I'll be calling him in this period, came from.

C-86 was not an easy experiment to take care of. Energetic, disruptive, unresponsive and totally unrelenting to cooperate. Was this because he was genetically modified at birth? Were the bird genes that they've etched into his DNA somehow causing him to do this? Or was it simply the result of genetical modification being a new, untested method?

Whatever the case may be, C-86 was a problem. Countless injured scientists, some having to be hospitalized due to infection - it was taking a toll on the facility, and they needed a solution.

Another untested method that was being developed was rune making. With runes you could imbue an object with a specific quality, store and write down spell combinations, and much, much more.

Their use in relation to C-86 was simple. To reel him into obedience. How? Well, mind control was a good option. Best case scenario they'd be able to lock away or even eliminate the disruptive part of him.

Long story short the attempt failed - leaving C-86 more than just an inconvenience now. But an actual active threat. Due to his new ability to [REDACTED].

Let's say they had to take unethical measures to keep him under control now.

As the years passed, a very important thing that occurred was that two of the experiments escaped. Which made the population extremely suspicious and thrust the facility into the public eye. In response, the lead scientists made the drastic decision to move the facility. It wasn't the only facility around by now, but it was the one responsible for both the experiments and the escape.

This is a very shitty map doodle but basically, the quickest route to the new facility was through another country - an empire, to be exact. And the scientists had to move as quickly as possible with their very alive cargo for obvious reasons.

The empire caught wind of this, and sent their own forces to retrieve this top secret cargo, cause it was on their territory after all.

The transport gets raided and thus, most of the experiments either escape, or are now in possession of the empire. So y'know very fun stuff.

Due to being unconscious while the transportation was happening, C-86 was in possession of the empire now.

From there, he gets taken to the emperor- and this is where my favourite part happens and it's honestly just so much fluff & angst as C-86 or Benjamin now befriends the emperor's son, Albert, and he basically gets found family'd and finally experiences some happiness 😭😭

The overarching arc at first there is Benjamin attempting to better Albert's relationship with his dad, who Albert believes he has to constantly prove himself to, to make him proud and to make sure he still loves him. In reality the emperor loves and cares for his son unconditionally but due to the environment can't show it without loosing his "Strong, Undisputed and Merciless Emperor" image he gained.

The arc ends with Benjamin running away due to being inherently convinced that he's completely unlovable and undeserving of anything good due to him not being human :) in his goodbye letter he basically goes, 'well now that you're at way better terms with your dad, my job here is done and you're free to continue with me finally out of your hair.'

[avisperocustom]

On spirals

Babe, we're having a human experience. We're part of god, we're limitless consciousness, but we're also inhabiting a body.

I got triggered yesterday. I mentioned my sps, the 3d responded badly..Or so I thought.

Oh boy. If you're in the same boat as me, this is for you and for me.

So, you got triggered. You got bad thoughts...Now what?

NOW YOU PERSIST, BAYBEEE! THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE!

See, when you get triggered it's you falling from one state of reality to a more unfavorable, and perhaps familiar, one. I know the state I fell to very well, it's low and it's full of anxiety. Horrible, sticky anxiety that fills my lungs and makes my heart beat way too fast. Boo, horrible, nobody likes it. My 3d reflected my fears and my assumptions. Babe, the 3d is nothing but a collection of your thoughts and feelings. I mentioned Teddy to my friend, whom I had built the assumption about that she hates him. What did I get? Exactly that.

SO. You know you fell into a bad icky state, how to get back to the better, more favorable state? I'm getting to that honey

FIRST AND FOREMOST,

Fulfill your basic needs: Hunger, Hygiene, Release, Sleep.

Try to sleep it off. It could be your mortal body that's screaming for help.

"[Redacted], it didn't help, I'm still triggered, I can't do this, manifestation isn't real, i'm crazy delusional and sp doesn't love me" It exists, we all have been through this honey, the feeling is normal, you WILL feel crazy and delulu at some point, it's completely natural, even more when you're going through this journey alone, but I assure you manifestation is real.

IF SLEEPING IT OFF DIDN'T WORK, IT'S BEEN MULTIPLE HOURS OR EVEN A DAY,

STEPS TO RESCUE YOURSELF OUT OF A SPIRAL:

1- Check your self concept:

WHAT, is being said by the unfavorable state? What are you thinking right now? In my particular state, it was a complete victim state. "Why does my sp hurt me, what did I do" (Babe I manifested my own hurt in that one reality lmao the fuck you mean "what did you do") "I'm so hated, abandoned and unwanted" "I'm not chosen" "I'm pathetic and forgotten"

2- Ground yourself:

Remember who the fuck you are. WHO ARE YOU? You're that bitch. You're limitless consciousness, and whatever you say in your reality is what goes. Babe you're, literally, a god. You're all powerful and all capable. You're wanted, you're loved, you're admired and you are capable of ANYTHING you desire. You're desired, you're absolutely gorgeous, chosen, pursued, sought after because you're so fucking rare and amazing. YOU, ARE LOVED. YOU, ARE THE SOURCE OF EVERYTHING HAPPENING AROUND YOU, LIFE HAPPENS THROUGH YOU, AND NOT TO YOU. IT'S YOUR INNER MAN THE ONE TELLING YOU, "LISTEN TO ME, I AM GOD, I CREATE FROM CLAY MY OWN REALITY."

3- Release that energy:

Baby it's time to get that anxiety physically off of you. Move around, dance, work out, shake yourself out of it. Rant to yourself how amazing you are. If you need to meditate? Do so. Listen to music. Listen to a subliminal, that shit doubles as affirmations being hammered into your brain and if the music is hype as a way to get that icky feeling outta you. Go walk your dog. Ground yourself on grass. Get straight in the ocean, or jump inside a pool. Anything. But get that shit out of your body. My only tip here is to not consume anything that isn't positive, manifestation content. Do not trigger yourself further. No sad songs, no "waaaa poor me" shit. REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.

4- Persist, persist, PERSIST:

Remember that the 3d is fake. All of this is subject to change, from one second to the next. You didn't ruin your manifestation, nor even delayed it because you had a human day. You're a god living a human experience, training to be a higher being one day when your body is, at its right time and without intervention, gone. You're allowed to have flaws. You're allowed to have a bad day. You can talk about your fridge disappearing all you want, but if you KNOW you have a fridge, it'll still be there in the kitchen where it belongs. KNOW, that your manifestation is happening. No matter what you see, remember that from the first time you put your foot down and affirmed for your manifestation, it's already done. Nothing to seek, nothing to change, nothing to wait for. It's done, it happened. You revised successfully, and changed realities.

Moved back to the wrong reality? Boo, all you did was take the wrong bus. Just get your bus pass and go back to the neighborhood you should be at, silly. Your sp loves you, you have the money, your past is exactly what you want it to be, you're healthy, you'll be fine

Affirm. Or visualize, or script. Or idk float around somewhere. Whichever technique you use, remind yourself of what you have.

You'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine together.

And let me tell you.

I was spiraling so hard yesterday, I didn't even register I had solid, clear movement. More than once, I had clear movement. And I was so blind to it, swallowed up by my worries and pulling my hair and thinking oh god, I'll lose it all, that I didn't even notice.

My revision didn't go well, it went perfectly.

[boyswanna-be-her]

publishing gay romance novels really unreasonably often for so many years completely warped my view of like... what is fun and funny and hot. like i am decent at writing a life-affirming, largely unproblematic romance that won't get me hate reviews and that's valid. and i think that's a pretty reasonable reaction, as a creator, to the bizarre takes on my fiction that i've dealt with (I'm sure everyone in my field deals with it) and vitriol that exists on the internet and goodreads and whatever platform for anyone who dares to present gay stories that aren't stock standard, ready to be produced by the hallmark channel and distributed to a chikfila audience.

but like. hm. to be writing that MESSY shit again. incredible. give me those goblins making bad choices. i cannot wait to ponder over how to write their setpiece Incidents in the most exquisitely uncomfortable ways. i love to watch them chew the scenery in my imagination. cannot say the same for my sweet, sweet lovingly rendered mass-appeal characters whose most compelling aspirations are to get me lots of nice reviews where nobody is calling me a [redacted lol] writing a "guide for [REDACTED FOR LEGAL REAONS WHY DO PEOPLE SAY THIS SHIT HOLY FUCK!!!!!]" i was really shaken by some of the horrific shit that people put out about my absurd books and it's taken me a long time to understand how to ignore it and--even harder--digest what i had already internalized and believed about myself as a human being based on book reviews. reading reviews is NOT the same as having an editor, and hater input was poison to my confidence in a way that i wasn't actually secure enough to acknowledge until the last few years.

im having a lot of emotions around writing again. im having a lot of emotions around most aspects of my life presently, and that of course channels nicely into creating some thinly-veiled fiction.

i'm glad i was allowed the luxury of taking some years off from publishing. i had completely stopped thinking of myself as a writer, despite the fact that i have 17 titles under my belt including a dozen hugely overlong novels written just by me. the last five years have been a pretty consistent ego death--not that i'm complaining, the vibe is now immaculate--but it is of course a lot to deal with. At the same time, the past DECADE of... trauma and growth and death and growth and total fuck ups and growth... has also casually wrought a sort of ingrained queer fury and strength in me that won't be quenched until my body kicks the bucket. I'm finally as old as I've always felt and I've got nothing to lose in writing some incredibly indulgent and polarizing fiction

anyway i don't really know how to blog anymore. i stopped sharing for so long, edited my sharing, overshared, undershared, begged for input, ignored all input. i'm making all of this shit up as i go along at this point. i'm excited about the way that my life experience is currently guiding my fiction. i think that's the essence here. but also 420 smoke weed every day jesse pinkman was right all along

[anghraine]

The best friend and I played a bunch of Mass Effect 3 over the last few weeks! The things I remember most clearly are Thessia, Leviathan, Sanctuary, Horizon, the Citadel DLC, and the initial return to [redacted].

Long ramble about all of it:

My best friend had me choose the companions for the run to the temple on Thessia, and naturally I chose our beloved Liara and problematic fave Javik. I wasn't glad to see it fall (quite the contrary), but it seemed a bit apropos that the asari leadership's various choices wrt the war came back to bite them. Still, it was really sad, esp since it's the only time we really saw it and Liara was really upset.

...all the more because we brought Javik and he kept interrupting her explanations to be like "all your religious beliefs are gifts we gave to your people's ancestors before they figured out writing." It was a lot for her, but I did feel a touch of annoyance at what seemed a bit of an unspoken assumption that this might happen to other people's homes, but not hers. Very asari, to be sure. And I like it as a subtle aspect of her character—not a criticism of the game there, just a sidenote, I guess.

Kai Leng showing up was just ... /sigh. I don't really get what his deal is beyond being Cerberus and hating Shepard a lot for some unknown reason. Eventually we do see the past!Illusive Man comparing him to Shepard (in a positive way!), so maybe it's something to do with that, idk. He feels pretty underwritten to me compared to the rest of the major cast, who are generally super vivid (I mean, I love background characters like Westmoreland!). So I'm just irritated when he shows up and disrupts interesting things.

The Leviathan DLC was a really good horror episode taken in its own right, but as part of the wider game, I'm not sure. I kind of ... didn't want to know more about the Reapers? The sequence was fantastic (especially down in the bottom of the sea!), yet the less mysterious the Reapers get, the less engaged I am by them. Whatever the hell is going on with Cerberus and the Illusive Man is a lot more compelling to me at this point.

Speaking of whom, Sanctuary was just what the fuck?! from beginning to end. I've always been suspicious of the whispers about it, but I didn't guess that they were transforming refugees into husks to experiment on, you know? Damn. Miranda was not exaggerating about her father's callousness even a little.

Speaking of Miranda, she is probably at the top of my problematic ME characters list, and ... look. Okay. I know the mechanics of the game suggest she's straight. To me she has the most intense bi energy of just about any human in the game. I love (female) Shepard/Liara, a lot, but I just feel like there's a ton of UST between our Shepard and Miranda, all the more by the end of the Citadel DLC. I'll just leave that there.

After that, it was extremely cathartic to wreck the Cerberus base on Horizon with EDI. No gods no masters <3

And then we got to finally kill Kai Leng for good. Asshole. Blahblah, more villain monologues from the younger-looking Illusive Man (/suspicion). I suspect he's in cahoots with Harbinger or something and thinks he's actually the one in control.

Then there was the Citadel DLC, which I've heard a lot of great things about. Early on, I wasn't actually sure I'd like it as much as other people do—self-referential humor and stakes-lowering banter are not to my taste in general, and there were several times in the earlier parts that it didn't quite work for me (not because it was bad, but I just don't like that kind of thing by and large). I did laugh at the "I should go" jokes, though!

We did it with Wrex-Liara and then Garrus-Liara, which felt very apropos to the storyline, since the whole deal with the clone is that she has all of Shepard's technical skills but overlooks the importance of Shepard as team player and friend. And Wrex, Garrus, and Liara specifically go way back with Shepard.

When the clone was going on her villain rants about how she has everything Shepard did, she can do everything Shepard can, I was like "but she can't do everything Liara and Garrus can ... oh. This is about the power of friendship!" And it was, in a really charming way.

I did think Brooks was suspect as hell the whole time, so that was validating.

The clone's obsession with being The Real Shepard and having the grand mystique and galactic stature and all of that did highlight something interesting to me. I'd read an argument that ME1 is actually the best ME game, and one of the reasons in that argument is that ME1 Shepard is ... cool, but not nearly the superstar legend she becomes later on.

And Shepard's super special awesome greatness is hammered in a lot through ME2&3. I'm not sure that's actually worse than being scrappier, in terms of some artistic merit kind of thing, but the DLC is so reliant on Shepard's mystique that it got me thinking again about how easily this could become really annoying.

Like, I've loved many special or chosen male characters, but the idea of male badass Shepard seems just incredibly tedious to me. I'm not sure I could buy into this except with the pretty specific scenario we have of a lesbian Shepard who came up through a hard childhood on the streets of Earth.

Anyway, I absolutely adored the end of the clone arc (Garrus and Liara pulling the real Shepard up ;_;) and then the entire rest of the DLC, except the pull-up thing with James (very tiresome mechanically and he's my least fave of the ME3 squad). Miranda and Jack semi-reconciling was really adorable and I loved all the bizarre inter-character dynamics at the party. Also, Traynor winning against an asari named Polgara made me cackle. And my absolute most hated from ME2, Zaeed, was kind of delightful. Zaeed vs The Claw was just ... jafdkk;jadfjk;a

And Glyph's little bowtie! Incredible all around.

Oh, and the little date with Liara was super sweet. I loved that it stopped where it did, just that image of them embracing. It's great.

It was nice to see them seriously together even later, of course. And we got back to Earth! I was incredibly tired at that point, so my main thought was that the imagery of the united galactic fleet was essentially what The Rise of Skywalker tried and failed to do, but it was fantastic here, especially after everything we've done to get (almost) everyone together. (We did basically tell the salarians to go fuck themselves wrt the genophage.)

London looks suitably dreadful and we'd just gone around and talked to Anderson and then essentially everyone. Pretty much everyone continually brought up how awesome Shepard is, again, which reinforced my sense that this could be really annoying but is very nice for lesbian Shepard, and in any case, it feels like it's going somewhere now. We'll see where exactly that is!

[cordeliaflyte]

New dream just dropped. So there were these ambiguously corporeal spirits. Some argued they were angels cast out of heaven by God. Some argued they were the spirits of people who committed unspeakable transgressions on earth and were thus trapped on it together. They could fly and they feasted by ravishing humans. By ravishing I mean like... Enrapturing. I mean specifically whatever happens to Dr Faustus in Marlowe's revised version. They made them disappear but also it's unclear what happened it was complex ok.

These creatures are hunted down by trained hunters whenever they're tracked down. They are easily tracked down in most places due to sophisticated technology built to detect them, and people are sent to exterminate them. Also my brother was one of these exterminators but that's aside the point. They could, however, hide 🫥 completely undetected in their lairs at the end of the world, inaccessible to humans.

They were nests, of a sort - cold and damp and crowded with rotting plants and malicious ambiguously corporeal spirits. Hunters desperately wanted to enter them so they could exterminate the creatures completely. Urban explorers also dreamt of locating and entering them. All these annoying ghost finder shows etc.

We followed one of these spirits who, despite the risk, would leave its lair as often as possible. It limited itself to hunting as few humans as possible to avoid detection. It left because it loved sunlight and sea salt and sounds.

When it was in its lair, it was completely safe. It was a highly unpleasant environment to someone who had known the pleasure of walking barefoot on a beach, even if waking barefoot on a beach was something the spirit had to do on high alert at all times - because hunters were able to tell when a spirit penetrated the membrane between the world at large and the nest (a membrane perméable only by these spirits).

Also it fell in love :D with a human. I know few details of its romance except that neither party outwardly acknowledged their feelings for each other. But it loved and it was loved.

And one day it was hiding out in its lair when a group of people managed to enter it, for the first time ever in the history of humanity, with torches. The group included: the person the spirit was in love with. This one girl who was my classmate in high school. [Redacted] and also ****** (hi ******). Me but I also wasn't there and also I was the spirit but I wasn't. you wouldn't get it you'd have to experience ego death. Also other people.

Anyway the spirit panicked and demanded the humans leave immediately. They laughed and they were like hahaha we're not hunters we're just here for educational purposes ^_^ and the spirit was like yeah no shit you're not hunters you're dinner. You're the fucking doordash order. You are a FEAST for a swath of ravenous creatures and your families will never have even a shrapnel of bone left to bury if you do not leave now.

And they were like lolllll you're so funny ^_^ but then one of them was. Ravished. I cannot think of a better word like I cannot stress enough this wasn't sexual but it was vaguely religious and sublime hence ravish ok. And the group started panicking and tried to leave but couldn't as the nest was also a maze and a boa constrictor coiling itself against them and the membrane was no longer permeable by humans.

And the spirit COULD have been like told you so guys 🙄🙄 but it couldn't because the person they loved was also here and it was going to say something, anything, but then in another gulp more of the people, including the person they loved, were ravished away. And it just started weeping.

So the people of note left now are me who also isn't me because ego death and I'm the spirit but also I'm the maze, [redacted], and ******. And ****** tearfully confesses her love for redacted and I'm just standing there like 🫥🫥🫥 because we're about to die so it doesn't matter and I can't ruin this moment for them by confessing i too am in love with [redacted].

So then ****** gets spirited away and it's just me and [redacted] who turns to me and says. I need you to promise me something. And I'm like what. And she's like anything anything at all. And I'm like okay I promise that next time we're in a situation like that I Will Tell You. And she's like what do you mean next time we're in a situation like that???? Tell me what???? But then we both get spirited away. Eaten. Ravished. Enraptured. Whatever.

So then me (as the spirit) is left alone and very forlorn. Dream change!

So there are gossip columns about Rihanna flopping recently or whatever. I don't listen to Rihanna. I don't keep up with celebrity gossip. But there is a group of people - celebrity gossip scholars - that are discussing celebrity gossip. And somehow discussing Rihanna leads them to discussing a male musician (could be an actor? Generic celebrity. Washed-out rockstar. Goes hard on the drugs and alcohol) in his late fifties. His name is Jesse I think.

One of them is a REAL celebrity gossip enjoyer who has read all of Jesse's autobiographies and interviews. And what they think is really interesting and why is no-one talking about this!! Is how he describes his daughter. Or rather the events that led to her conception. Because essentially everything seems to lead to the conclusion that one day, a baby just arrived on his doorstep with a letter explaining its his and he was just like "wow! Guess I'm a dad now ���🏾".

And there's several descriptions of how the night this daughter was conceived allegedly happened. What seems to be a general scheme: he is high out of his mind on various narcotics. In some luxurious location - sometimes a hotel swimming pool, sometimes a speeding limousine, always something suggesting wealth and decadence.

He meets this man who, in each of his interviews, he describes in a vaguely homoerotic way. Because why are you, as a straight macho rockstar/actor/whatever spending half a page describing a man's good looks 🤨 the descriptions vary. Once, the man is described as Mexican. Once, as decidedly Balkan. Once, our frame narrator - the celeb gossip expert who is telling the other celeb gossip experts about this - recalls the term Jesse used to describe this mysterious man's ethnicity, goes pale, and says. Hm that's a slur I'm not saying that.

But what remains the same in all descriptions is that the mysterious man is very tall, with a shirt that's unbuttoned past all propriety. This is relevant because not only does it make Jesse sound gay, but also leaves us with a good view of his distinctive scar, right under his sternum. A perfectly round burn scar, as if someone fused a red-hot medallion to his skin and ripped it off. In some accounts, he has other scars - a wreath of small ones around his forehead, or two identical scars in the middle of his left and right hands. But that's nothing to worry about hahahaha 😜

But the mysterious stranger suggests they go to a seedy bar and Jesse, high out of his mind, is like yeah totally! So they go to a seedy bar, homoerotically. They get piss drunk. And then the mysterious stranger introduces Jesse to a smoking hot 🔥🥵💥💯🔥 chick who's a short buxom redhead babe!! [sic]. And they spend the night together. She has the same scar as the guy has right beneath their sternum. Jesse's conclusion, in one of his accounts is "wow! They must have been siblings!" Which. Fascinating logic.

In the morning, she's gone, and Jesse has the worst hangover of his life. But he's like wow that must have been a fun night!! And thinks nothing of it until 9 months later he gets a baby on his doorstep. And all gossip columns are like wow alcohol and drugs made him go crazy right?? We still love his music though <3 but they cannot deny that he very much has a (now adult) daughter of dubious maternity.

It is apparent to an objective observer of these events (me) that the two hot 🔥💥🥵💯 strangers were demons of ambiguous morality. Dream change!

Now I am surrounded by my primary school 🎒🏫 classmates in a vicious race to the top floor of a building upon a hill. I am determined to be number one no matter what it takes so I break a few limbs and throw some people down the stairs but I do eventually make it to the top floor of this building which looks suspiciously like my second primary school if it was even more claustrophobic first. But the people there are my primary school bully with an insane amount of plastic surgery and her grandma and they're like wanna play the Sims? And I'm like sure I'll play the Sims with you. I maimed some of my classmates for life for this so why the fuck not. Sorry that one was anticlimactic.

[randomclam24]

I never wanted to admit a lack of agency on my *own* part, but it is true that, the wider the audience, the lower the lowest common denominator.

Anyway, I have the 4TB external hard drive now and am installing all the Steam games.

Update Obligatory botposting

https://archive.is/fnMtF

Daily reminder: You WILL not use your guns, you WILL live in the pods, you WILL down all of the semen, and you WILL

I've looked over my Steam games. I still have to judge whether Rage, and downstream from that all of id software, is ultimately pro-"our Democracy" - because it much more easily describes wiping the floor with the people still complaining, meaning true conservatives who are still alive somehow for some reason. There was a convention where id software literally said they don't like minorities in recent years, but in reality from my experience a lot of "the hood" is just hand-having what it means to actually take on the sad reality that everyone will collectively convulse down around you and have you locked up with a lifetime in prison for opening your ugly fat ass mouth. The FBI already started assassinating Trump supporters. I'll be the very first they're looking for.

Frankly, there *are* no means by which *not* to contribute to lefties' delusion narrative about the right. There's simply no air to breathe.

And now to end this with an obligatory, "and that's a GOOD thing!"

This is all so low class. I never got to live a life worth - trying for.

Look, I don't care what happens - as long as it stops starting right at my doorstep every single time. I have nothing to do with this. I have no personal involvement. I didn't make the deep state; I didn't get too far deep that it's like a permanent drug addiction where I'll literally just spontaneously die if I stop.

I just wish culture would stop being so fucking *slow*. Humans, specifically those who see themselves as the judges of others, are really incapable. They should be treated like livestock.

There's really no point in living: I'll fuck it up no matter what. I don't know what the end goal of everything is, because clearly it *can't* be what I *really* feel, as not even saying [redacted] is going to work as a cop-out for the newly-signed-into-effect direct legal implications, and I *know* this!

Can someone just get in there and physically, manually *stop* these people whno are signing into law these ridiculous things? I want people specifically to stop taking it in the ass as an excuse for a rational argument against my existence.

Like, whatever the fate of the West is, I could have been working on paradise on earth as an alternative to all that. What kind of timeframe do you think you need to get all this fecality past us and out of the way? Two years? 2024 tops, with the next election? Point stands, you're boring me. I want to die every day because of this.

Life is a *mistake*. Every day blows a *cock*.

I wish everybody could stop blowing cocks in place of oxygen, because that makes like a *mistake*.

Update I just went through the first parts of the lava underworld in Dark Souls on PC. I didn't just mow everything down. I took my sweet time, the whole time. I feel like it would have been better to die than to live a life where every microsecond is spent between different people telling me things that I have to listen to to survive. For the most part, what I've been living apart from this blogging is the best attempt at that, although I don't really know from experience if, once you get an actually decent-paying job (no offense?), people will stop being assholes - to the extent that life is fundamentally unbearable.

8/20 If listening to these people was all life was, it would not be worth living.

But at the same time, these toxic people are the ones who will readily get us all arrested when their time comes. They have to be listened to, at all times, because I toe the line. Everything I actively do is borderline. That's why life's not worth living[, and that's why they said that's why you just listen] - except that's not *true*, because you're the problem not *me*

Update Because I have nothing better to do, I'm going to write a *diss* track on my *haters*

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all"

[redacted]

Update It wasn't Ron DeSantis that rapped Eminem. His name is "Vivek Ramaswamy"

Everybody has to do this now

We'll brainstorm random ideas to see if any are worth making into "lyrics" - actually I always hated that rap was basically just droning where otherwise music has actual melody - this is what it sounded like

Getting fat off of pork rinds and Mountain Dew ("fucking *based*")

Except I'm actually intaking them in moderation now - so

Update Okay I remember somebody used the song with these lyrics in a video edit. I found the lyrics, but I can't find the song.

SHAKAMANIA X - I Was Tryna Beat My Meat Lyrics (l-hit.com)

I apologize for everything

Update I'm just going to repost garfielf

Garfielf is asks for lasaga - YouTube

Update Given the - absolute lack of interest in high-proficiency white males, upon which the infrastructure relies, who all essentially have this as the nagging feeling in the back of their heads, I'm surprised there hasn't been significantly more effort toward a Mannerbund, or multiple Mannerbunds. It may only be now developing, but you walk into a high-paying job's interview, and a black lady peeks out from behind the next door and asks, is it another white guy? I mean, what else are you occupied doing? You're not wanted there.

Update I want to die. Somebody take my life.

Moments in life - when my cousin who took it in the ass was there when I started up Galaga from Namco's 6th-gen arcade gaming collection and it made the starting music, and we just had this moment of agreement that, yeah, that's it mane

I don't have much else to talk about in life - at least I think I don't.

Update I don't think life has anything worth getting up in arms over. That's not to say I advise not to do it. You people aren't worth preserving, so in theory there would be nothing of value lost.

What's different in that respect from ancient times as modern nations?

I'll always tell you, midwits belong in the super-abyss.

But the drawback to that is that it makes me an *evil person*.

These politicians are going to keep being stagnant - go somewhere else. Hence the Mannerbund.

You can't damage a midwit enough because they *actually believe their own shit* - there's no reparation from that.

All I'm trying to be saying is that if incidentally, all of these politicians had in the first place never been born, that would have been great, but they had to go shit up the party for everyone. Now this takes up our priority because people are idiots who can't think for themselves and can only go by anecdotal example.

I think that's actually why I caught onto garfielf, because it's so overfull of anecdotal things it gets wrong, it becomes another thing in itself - but then who else is going to actually get that kind of humor?

My life is fundamentally meaningless. Someone *help* me

Update I really and seriously hope you lose your democracy - it sucks and you're fucking gay

I'm a Republican, and I'm going to speak what's on my mind even though it might be bad optics Your Democracy means these politicians won't be actively denied their obvious pilpul for what it is

My life really has no meaning. It's been called shouting into the void. The only ones *listening* are affirming leftist dogmas

Update God abandoned us forever. Why are we here?

8/20 Isn't the lifestyle we live, where you can just post things on the internet and get views on them, in a house that's - well not apparently if you live in Europe - air-conditioned Then people use this exact comfort to rationalize appreciating the one-world government, saying there's no justification behind conspiracy theories - for some reason apparently people love to say "how does this affect you personally?" Is expecting a working system in and of itself just a capitalistic impulse that liberals don't share?

According to amygdala research, they don't share the *disgust* response.

Update There was one point in college, one of the two liberal arts colleges I dropped out of before getting my General Transfer Studies degree, this professor on religions gave an assignment asking you to write out three examples of a religious experience *you* have had. I had heard in history lessons on religion long previous to this that such things as religious experiences weren't so common as they were regarded in ancient times. Then this professor thinks we liberal arts college students can just hand them out like candy. I tried to muster up *something*, that would be true to the prompt just subjectively, and all I got back was a nondescript note on the paper, "none of these are religious experiences". Is this a psyop? Yes, this is a psyop

It's another thing that seems like something that could have caught on in and of itself but didn't go anywhere in reactionary online horror, the incidence of that piercing old Macintosh-esque text-to-speech of essential Bible verses in the Mandela Catalogue.

I've made mention of a protagonist I *wanted* to create, where the purpose was less to be *that guy* in every situation like in media and more to make sense of things where everyone out there is overwhelmingly conflicted and be the arbiter of them, so if there was a hint of that space alien trope "take me to your leader" to be found in that, I actually thought that was kind of cool - the part of being an arbiter, rather than the part of being a glowie psyop.

But the sheer total size of the text is so huge, it's highly intimidating. Realistically, it could (and some would scoff at this and say it *would*, easily) take years just to get initially acquainted with the text.

That's where I've had an issue with even having a job - it's the fact that I could easily do other things in the meantime that would accomplish many more easily-obtainable goals.

Update I don't know. Maybe the motivation isn't there plainly because the whole original motivation for the thing was to just be contrarian, albeit in a big way.

It's not like it wasn't in earnest. But what was the *end* goal?

Update You have so many voices that people identify with because they feel a connection on a personal level, but nobody really seems to speak with authority. When people try to speak with authority, it's in a way where they're actively feeling out that everybody can just agree in a superficial sense that it's "authoritative", and it's on issues like "don't be racist", so in reality it's *not*: what amounts to, Republicans would be better off keeping their two cents on the issue to themselves, as advice, is not based on virtue; it's just Machiavellian.

So nobody is really speaking with authority anymore; they're just podium-hogging against right-wingers who want real change, giving minimalistic excuses.

So what you really get is, all of these leftists hogging up the political stage are legitimately believing that they're fighting the last implicit stand against what would have been the catalyst for the end of times on every individual issue like muh racism, muh Hitler, muh Nazis.

I was going to say, these people are in theory the ones who lack the proverbial disgust response. Why are they then the ones who are known for getting hung up on every little Machiavellian non-issue?

Update So what *is* the virtue on which push against racism is based? And with that, you have even ghostler saying "you wouldn't say any of that to a black person's *face* in real life", alluding to the same. And you had the event of "Propertarianism"'s first real-life meet ending abruptly to have everyone disband in embarassment when one of the leaders was actually physically confronted by a black lady and pissed his pants after cramping up. I want to just say, I don't see the substance here when things just seem to be set up so conveniently for these perceptions to play out systematically, this being a question of whether that was a psyop, but clearly there's this boof there that goes, right beneath the surface, for people. I don't know what it is.

Search your feelings

Update later I may say that about liberal politicians, but when it comes to politicians on the podium, they're all losers. We don't really *have* insiders.

8/22 night I just keep having to arrive at the realization against my will that life is just a complete non-start and there's no reason to get up in the morning all of the time

I want something like a movie night so I don't die of - autism

Update Since it's one of the few I've beat on Heroic and not just Normal, I tried replaying Halo 4 again on Legendary. I got down certain techniques, like switching from the assault rifle to take down overshields to something else after they're down, like a headshot weapon. I also fine-tuned the mouse sensitivity settings including the zoomed-in speed ratio. I still feel like the game is more work than it's worth as an experience.

That's life.

Update My life isn't going to go anywhere even with money at my disposal. We wouldn't be talking about that much in the scheme of things. More or less, it's because everybody else is already known to be a fat bitch when it comes to any matters that actually matter that I consciously make the deliberation not to expend *too much effort*, because I *know* that's out of place, and there's nothing to change that.

Life is pointless at conception: you all are going to sit around and do drugs essentially

8/23 night There was an image-based meme of something that looked like a worm with two big, beady all-black eyes and sharp teeth, and the text reads "imma pee in ur ass". Like, yes, this is a completely legitimate retort in an argument.

8/24 I'm just now getting my sleep schedule back on track, not that it matters that much unless I get caught, which really shouldn't be a thing anyway given how low-priority everything that I've been doing is. But in going back to sleep another time before this morning, I had a nightmare about an entire village of zombies. It's hard to tell where to begin because everything was grotesque in its own unique way. But in short, some or a lot of the zombies had this thing where their hands could contort into longer, thin appendages in a kind of hyper-motion, all wielding knives haphazardly. The first zombie that appeared soon after waking up out of the starting bed, after discovering the two with me had their beds death-trapped involving barbed wire, was Baldi. Sooner than later there was an entire village of people who looked normal, but as time went on more signs appeared that they were all under a ruse and were trying to get you, and there was minimal chance of escape through a slow-coming elevator. There was enough really subtle stuff going on to mess with the overall sense of comfort that it was horrifying beyond measure, but it's hard to describe. Basically, it was Siren's idea that eventually, the entire place becomes a secluded island, so in effect your entire world becomes zombified, and that's it for you. And what was I doing to produce the hand hyper-contortions? I was spending all night typing at a relatively fast pace until my wrists hurt, and I would shake them out, in addition to stretching them out.

Update Based on the way ghost was shown the way millenials are paying off the debt from boomers living their way of life, and he just said if you millenials cared, this would have been solved within a short duration of time, despite the fact that millenials are physically incapable of holding positions of authority where boomers hold them indefinitely from their generation and way of life, boomers need to be regarded as diseased animals and must be treated as such.

Update Reality favors world Jewry. Despite the hillbilly getting to #1 on trending or something, the r*ght lost the culture war. It's time to pack our bags.

Update At the end of the day, you're going to have to pass as a liberal, be you right wing or left wing. It doesn't make any difference

I'm not doing any of that, so long story short for the sake of catching up to what's already upon me in any case, I'm not going to make it.

I wrote out the first three books of the New Testament, and already I'm far enough into the fourth book to make the call, basically if you want it condensed, the book of Matthew contains the primary account of all of the parables, and only in the book of John are certain events like the miracle of turning water into wine even mentioned.

The point being, I actually told my mom about that, and that caused her to double down unconsciously on the idea that I need company from church in place of scripture, and that means that I'm dangerously on edge of being put into there, perpetually and, well, they wanted to keep it a secret, but, *forever*. Teehee!

As a sort of disclaimer, my grandma on my mother's side's church felt comfy. That's where I supported summer camp there and had my first all-night lock-in. But the churches my parents went to were too contemporary. I remember the first contemporary church we went to had Midway Arcade Treasures on PS2 in the middle school / high school lounge, and that's how I heard of it, but I think they got rid of that fast. But you actually talk to the people there, and it doesn't seem like a church community. it just seems like a last resort for people who can't *get* any friends. What other kind of community is it? It's not quality.

Update And the mentality I had was that like college, where it's encouraged you actually read the text before class, what's the good in taking part in a serious discussion group if you have never definitively read the text? But my mom wanting to shovel me into contemporary groups clearly is as a *preventative*.

My mom wants to shoehorn me into the straitened path of Chroma Tundra's sound, effectively, where everything about it is only supposed because of suppositions about what feels right stacked one upon the other for generations. By the time they finally finish their introduction and let me have a word in edgewise, I'm only left in all that constraint to cry out autistically, "Abba!" why have you forsaken me? because I had been left with all this retardation, taken in absence of consciousness.

Boomers need to stop perpetually taking it in their ass. That's absolute.

To the effect it's been memed we're already at war, there is a silent war going on by what would be considered the modern-day Pharisees against - not even enemies to them, but just anyone who blindly wanders into the domain of damning information against them. So to say we're already at war in that sense is ultimately just giving them "gainsay" on us - so it's pointless. Pack your bags. Start a new country.

I say that because at this level of corruption, that's simpler. But clearly see this: you don't want to end up becoming like Iran, which has one of the world's few non-jew-owned banking systems, to become international terrorists by name in the U.S.

Every organic expression that ever happened from the modern U.S. media has been in unison with the killing of the prophets, though there *be* not any. But had there been, the automatic reception would be along the combined lines of, pipe down you ain't really from the hood no you ain't with suspended booty rippling (I give up) (and am so sorry) I only make my case worse (oh no I went (*all* the way) over the edge)

I wonder if there's any relation to the Pharisees metaphorically making the outside of the cup clean in all their expressions and appeals to the divine and holy and the way now 30-and-above-degree Freemasonry now supposedly culminates in anal worship So if you want to say anything on the world stage, there's really only one approach left to gain you anything, to a dead world: (you gotta eat the whole ass bruh ain't no playin' around)

It's all in making sure you don't fuck up the semantics of the game, and if you don't, you'll make Denzel Curry go even more mental (I see no other reason people write music)

I don't have anything good to say.

As long as I keep talking, the people will never stop targeting me. These are the very people saying there's nothing to worry about as long as you don't fuck up the game - even though there hasn't *been* a fucking up of the game, and they're the ones themselves preaching don't be flustered over a minor detail, which is specifically what's setting them off with me, making them say it'll fuck up the game, so - you pick

Life was a mistake because these people have the full rein, and there's no point

In reality I don't *want* to show myself in front of any people I consider "real", because I would make them feel ashamed.

Update I felt the need to say all this because the way my mother talks proves that these social expectations precede the Bible.

Something I noticed which might have further meaning than the literal is the way it's described some people will say near the end times, the Lord delayeth his coming, and will instead start slaying the servants. Of course he delayeth his coming - it's the foremost common saying that nothing ever happens. Nothing ever happens.

And nothing that happens in the modern day actually has anything not to do with the secret circles like the Catholic priesthood but with God.

8/25 night For those who were wondering, or reposting the meme about the subject, why people don't make the association where in the Bible Jesus accuses Israel of being the sons of the devil, the Gospels have their strength as historical records because of the standard of having more than one or even two people give the same record, and this only appears in the book of John, starting in chapter 8.

8/25 I suppose it's not because of the thing itself, but because I've already been to so many sermons in life, most of which are concerning the gospels - even though I don't feel like I learned much, there's that implicit certification now that I've typed out the entirety of them and so ensured that I know at least more about them throughout than what any public sermon is going to assume a crowd of people understands about them. Why? I always felt like the material of the book of Acts and so on before the letters to the churches were underappreciated for what they were. There was the entire lifestyle implied by that, which is actually the part of the Bible that's unheard of by our society's standards.

8/26 night How wonderful it is that it's a new day! I'm tired of living. I just don't want to do it anymore.

8/26 Okay. So because I proved an entire 100-proof 750mL was not enough to make me do anything more than go off to sleep and do nothing more without remembering it, clearly that much is not enough to kill me. So we had to get it more concentrated. 69% ABV is about the highest that can be found by going to Wal-mart and getting it in secret, and it's not just at any location. So I've got two overproof Plantations, at that ABV at 1L total each. How much does that make?

*Don't* do this

Update I got a guide for MyHouse.wad. It seems like a good combination. I don't know what else to do right now.

Update In the burned version of the house, the sound of the music isn't in appearance only: from this version of the house onward, can't get a true ending. The artifacts you collect here are false artifacts and do not contribute toward the end collection. I didn't even know that.

Update I don't know the game well enough to know if you have to trigger the house fire to get that music or not.

Update So, cons of drinking: you have things to consider like, never trust a burp, but it's really more like never trust a cough because it's almost a given you'll have to burp already, so if you cough on top of that, you might projectile vomit.

Pros: I'm playing MyHouse.wad with a guide this time, and it's doing it in style

I know it's un-Christian to be given to heavy drinking, but also I've tried for experimentation's purposes, and I still don't *know* what everyone's talking about, when it comes to regrets and being out of control being drunk. At worst I legitimately just sleep a lot. And that's only my own case - but that's given that I have 0% peer pressure from other people, having my own abode in the basement where people don't come anymore unless they have storage purposes in the back room. So I have my own universe here

"The kid needs a milkshake" makes me want a milkshake, and that makes me face the facts that I'm a poorfag

Update Eventually they're going to force me to work and hold down a job.

To me that comes as a given.

Update I feel like I'm just waiting for time to go on, no different than anybody else. It's not good, but what can you do

When it comes to something like Mario 64 beta lore, it feels like there is something I can add meaningfully, but when it comes to something like MyHouse.wad, not really.

Update If for whatever reason a professor actually gives you a prompt asking you what religious / spiritual experiences you've had, actually press them on it if MyHouse.wad isn't valid as one - not that it is, but because we really don't have any examples - I don't know why that was a thing

Update I made it to the gas station, with only one artifact left to get out of the mirror artifacts. I feel like I've already seen enough. When they say Doom"cute", they're not kidding.

Something about seeing things like Doom Center take Doomcute arcade game machines and make actual arcade games within the Doom engine to play out of them makes me want to -

Really, I quit because I set up the contrast and brightness for a different monitor, and now it's too dark.

Update I'm too jolly for my own good, in this state.

Death to the deep state. That's figurative.

Update My parents got a deal where they decided to split half and half on spicy and non-spicy chicken at Lee's. Now I get to eat helping after helping of spicy chicken because absolutely nobody is eating it.

Update Guys, the Microsoft Edge browser updated just recently to match the hated "everything has to be a rounded square" style. It's like, people will rail me because I'm being a conspiracy theorist, but that much happened

8/27 night Beyond the fact that it has this status of being definitive, I think Dark Souls is definitely overrated for what it is. Then again, there *are* all those imitation games that get the formula wrong, because it's actually hard to get right.

[shadowsjudgement]

Darker Yet Darker; A New Face, A New Figure

The moment the glowing heart known as ‘his soul’ was returned to the male human, he felt whole again. Warmth slowly filled his body as the heaviness he had felt prior drifted away. But static still buzzed softly in his mind, some of the magic this ‘Gaster’ had injected, swirled within his soul, unable to escape. It left an itchy feeling within the human’s chest as his soul tried to purge the magic that was invading his very being. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed since the Devilish being known as W.D Gaster had left him alone. With only darkness surrounding the human, seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like days. At some point, the soft static had stopped plaguing his mind, leaving the human with an unbearable silence. Now thoughts and fears ran rampant. How did he get here? What had he done to deserve this sort of punishment? Sure, -REDACTED- knew he wasn’t the best human in the world, but to end up in some level of hell? It just didn’t make any sense. What was worse, -REDACTED- had no memory of just before ‘waking up’ in this dark silent void. The last memory he had was opening his eyes in his bed to a dreary rainy morning. At some point his thoughts and fatigue overtook him and he passed out. bzzzzzz…BZzzzz…BZZzzzz…BZZZZZZZZZ!!! Hazel brown eyes snapped open as a sharp and different static filled the void around him. It was inconsistent, stopping and starting with no warning. Sometimes the sound and feeling of it would be right in his ear, while other times it was barely a whisper. Was this Gaster’s doing? Some form of torture devised to wear him down? BZZZZZZZZ!!! A loud burst of static suddenly passed through him eliciting a scream of surprise and pain. “AAAaahhh!” -REDACTED’s- body seized up from this uncomfortable feeling, instinctively hands quickly covered his ears to try and lessen the noise. To the far left, -REDACTED- noticed a quick flicker of cyan light and a figure standing within it. As the luminous being disappeared so did the unpredictable static. Left alone again, he welcomed the dark silence this time. Panting hard the human slowly calmed down from the state of panic that experience left him in. “What the hell?!” He cried out, voice hoarse and dry. “Huh?” He mumbled, now feeling his hands covering his ears. Putting his hands down in front of him -REDACTED- wiggled his fingers a bit. “I…can move!” He said with a dry laugh then tried to move other parts of his body. The human’s legs were still frozen by some unseen force, but he could now move his arms and head. “Well… This is at least progress…” The human mumbled to himself and started to look around the empty void trying to find something, anything, other than the darkness. Just what was that thing he saw? It definitely wasn’t this ‘Gaster’ person, that’s for sure. Though it was quiet and dark again, the human could still sense that new being’s presence. It was like some sort of invisible wall had gotten between them. Reaching out his hands, the human tried to feel for whatever was separating him from that new presence. Despite being surrounded in darkness -REDACTED- could perfectly see his outstretched arms. “This is so weird…” The human said, now looking down at his body. His eyes widened in shock now seeing the reason for his frozen legs. Blackish purple goo was covering him from his feet up to his thighs. It had an eerie subtle glow that let the human see that the goo was slowly moving over his body. “Fucking gross… What is this stuff?!” He exclaimed and reached down with one hand to touch it. As soon as his fingers got close enough the goo shot up and swallowed his hand in an instant. “Erg… The hell?!” He shouted in surprise, quickly pulling his hand back. The goo reluctantly let go and retreated into the larger mass covering his lower body. The human’s hand felt numb and tingly now after being inside the goo. That explained why he couldn’t feel his body when he first ‘woke up’ in this place. Before -REDACTED- could think and experiment more with the goo, the cyan light from earlier flashed into existence ten feet away from him. The light this time had a purplish tint, and the intense static was brought down to a deep humming sound. It was easy to deduce this ‘wall’ that was reducing the light and sound, was Gaster’s doing. From the light the same silhouette he saw earlier emerged. It was short and round, but with the cyan light glowing from behind, it was hard to see much else of the being’s features. The only new thing the human could see was a yellow/cyan circular glow coming from the left side of this thing’s ‘head’. “Hey! Can you hear me?! Help!!” -REDACTED- shouted out as loud as he could. But the being didn’t react at all and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Shit!!!” The human cried out seeing the figure disappear back into the light before the light also vanished. It was clear that ‘Gaster’ put this ‘wall’ up around him to hide him from this other being. -REDACTED- had no idea if this light creating being was dangerous or not but if Gaster wanted to hide him from it then there had to be a good reason.

[thelesbianlegacy-swtor]

OC list of the MMO LESBIAN

SarapAlexandria Duvel <3 Vette

Sith Warrior

Human, brown short hair, 1,78, D cups, she likes dressin on armor that is bulkier than a tank or in a tank top and leggings. Dark eyes and light skin

Lesbian. LOVES toys in bed

Headcannons

Has a personal Dreagnough that she uses as a colliseum. She has taken into training new sith in combat. More than her apprentices they are more of gladiators for her to fight.

Kinda crazy. Likes to bounce around and do Tons of damage. She is feroucios about defending the Empire and believes that the republic is doomed. Has archived the impossible more than a dozen times so no plan is to crazy or stupid for her. Gratefully, her wife knows what is too stupid or too crazy and so she fixes those plans so her big sith girl can go fight monsters and other people.

Married Vette. Only she can make her laught so much that she forgets she is angry. The tiny girl is so adorable and so cute and jsut so horny for Alexandria that the two of them spend 3 months on a horny induced honeymoon. Even now after the war with zakuul they keep having more honeymoons whenever they get the chance.

She wasnt all that hurt by Quinns betratal. Like, hey man fatman told you to kill me so no biggie- But from now on you are my bitch and i will bully you over all this k?

Jaesa kinda bugs her. She is Dark side but not SO crazy but still she is kinda...tiny. Alexandria likes to challenge her to crazy stuff and she always gets on trouble with her, but Jaesa is so young and sometimes weak that 

Pierce is her best freind. A total madman when it comes to battle, a blootthirsty man that will not doubt in choosing violence but also super trusthworthy and she knows he will stop her from getting killed in stupid ways

For her Broonmark is her fluffy monster! Just point release and watch blood by spilled. She makes him shower after every bottle and use proucts on his hair cause she likes how soft he gets.

She remains a free agent causing chaos everywhere. She is not quick to kill always tho. If she got a good fight with someone she will usually let them live so they can fight again.

She is the most sexually proactive girl around. She will get every pair of cute or hot tiddies on a bed along side Vette. She is a bit dom and doesnt like playing sub, but she will play passive.

Master of Shien and Juyo, she likes to go crazy with a lightsaber and destroying the place but doesnt really like dual wielding

Seraphine <3 Temple

Sith Agent. New code name: Specter

Cyborg, mostly internal components on her eye, brain and bones. 1,96M, Long hair, usually red but she likes dying it. C cups, She wishses to get more tits but she has to be stealthy. She likes using loose clothes with lots of cleavege. She isnt a fan of bras.

Lesbian Switch. Likes bondage and public stuff. She can and will play any part on roleplay. From the scared virgin to the cruel dominatrix

Headcannons

A master of hidding on plain sight. Seraphine is the kind of woman who blends everywhere. She likes attention from the spotlight just to let it go 5 minutes later. She has the talent of being so likeable that any girl that gets close to her on bed, never gets mad with her for leaving or just going for another girl. She also has a perfect memory and will remember how you like to be touch, how much you moan or what kind of cnadies you like when you are on your days. She is as soft as she is Ruthless. She has never regret killing anyone for more than an hour. Unless she kils someone she has slept with she will pull the triger no matter what. This includes civilians, wounded and allies. After Chapter 3 she left the identity of Cypher 9 and became a shadow agent for the Empire. Her new code name: Specter. 

After the War with Zakuul she was left on charge ofthe Alliance by Darth Nox. Both the Ex Imperial Wrath and the Supreme Huntress stayed behind with her. 

She doesnt like Kaliyo. No. She is no fun. She likes to hurt and doesnt look after girls. She was particulary angry at her at the start because she would try to get on the way of her time with other girls. So Seraphine got Kaliyo a cute chasity belt and allowed her to focus on chaos outside the bedroom. That way they both can get what they want. Chaos and attention.

Vector is her special little guy. Confident. Trusthworthy. But really fun to mess up with. Seraphine tells him to do weird stuff just to get a laught at weird situation. She also helps him send money for Killik Joiners. She likes that he is simple

Lokin is a weird guy for Seraphine.He could do a lot of stuff with the ragkghoul virus but she likes that he is quiet and calm. She likes trying tea with him

Ensign Temple is the only girl that has kept Seraphine attention span for more than 1 night. She likes her a lot because she cant read her as well as other people and so she makes her angry just to learn more about her. She forgot how it felt to get to know someone through time and so she likes to keep her around. She also likes Temple is super organized and loyal

Seraphine can never choose fast between either a big rifle or a tiny blade under her dress. She likes how chaos erupts after a person gets shots down but she also likes to be close when her target takes their last breath

FUCK SCORPIO UwU

Arthemys Delos <3 Mako

Huntress

Built like a tank, She likes lifting Mako to train her big guns. She is a cyborg with lots of internal components and a cybernetic leg (left) She isnt the tallest girl, she is 169 (nice) but she has the biggest tiddies. She carries two E cups that she loves to put on Mako’s face. She has black short hair

Lesbian 

Total top but wont say no to being topped every know and then

Headcannons

Money,gambling, explosions and pretty girls, Arthemis cares for little more than that. As long as she can fire guns, gamble money and have a bed with a pretty girl on it she will do an job. She loves hunting animals and will almost never reject a bounty. What she wont do, is just say yes to any quest or mission. She can get money as easy as she can waste it and so throwin credits at her doesnt work. Only if the work isnt something she dislikes or too easy or boring she will do it. She has a few internal implants after playing with grenades when she was young.

Mako is hers. Hers alone. She wont let her go beyon her sight and will actually get restless for being away from her too long. Arthemis is possesive which Mako kinda likes.

The two of them likes being on top of eachother as much as possible but a extra pair of hands or tiddies make them both pretty happy. Most of the time, is actually Mako who gets the girl.

Gault is jsut too fun not to keep around. Arthemis wouldnt call him his best friend becuase she suspects the guys can be bought but he is fun either way. She like getting a lot of money with him and then wasting it all or just not taking the pay,just to mess up with him.

Torian is fun. Sometimes. He is a mandalorian and she likes fighting strong people. But Torian is a bit more serious that she would like. She doesnt like people dying because then she cant fight them again and so she doesnt like some decisions of the mandalorian. But at the end of the day the trust that the two share is one of a brotherhood.

Blizz. God Damm Blizz. When Arthemis got Mako on her bed and then into her family she thought she coulnt be happier. She was wrong. The little jawa makes everything better. As chaotic as her and even weirder than Gault, Arthemis just cant stop keeping the jawa around

YOU READ MY COMMENT ABOUT SCORPIO? WELL THAT X2

Selendis likes using two big guns to shot down her enemies. She doesnt really enjoy going around in huge armor so she keeps herself kinda light. But her armor is still a bit big. Why you ask? Cause she loves the feeling of having not only a flamethrower but also grenades, missiles, hooks and electric weapons all stuffed in her body. 

Selendis <3 Lana and Senya

Sith Inquisitor

Sith girl with piercing orange eus and long amazing black hair. She is 182 and as sith that focus on range combat, she took the luxury of enhancing her breasts to a nice DD cups. She doesnt like jewelry but she has a few tattoos. 

Sorcerer

Lesbian. The one to dom them all.

No amount of girls is too much when it comes to Selendys

A proud, stylish and master manipulator Selendis believes that the empire can be improved but even in its current state is better than the republic. She is patient and ruthless and wont stop until the galaxy is back on order. She left the alliance and took overthe sith empire after letting Acina step down. Seriously, no killing her just “Try and stop me from getting the throne”

Khem Val is her personal monster. A warrior of another time which she swears wont ever be forgotten. She has taken into redacting whatever information the dashade gives her. She has task him ith protecting everyone she deems worthy of her interest

Andronikos is a fun and interesting man. He is a pirate with experience and a code. Hard things to find. Selendis enjoys him being slipery and smartass. She also enjoys the acces to the underworld the man provides. Over all she likes that the betrayed man has once more put his trust on someone. She wont abuse it but she prides herself of it

Ashara. The little puppy. She has learn about the dark side and the sith and yet she keeps herself on a reaching point from the jedi order. Still she has a point of view that is useful and welcome. She has teached her everything useful that she could learnt.

Talos. Oh Talos. A men of science and interest. Selendis has swear to protect the smart man just so he can see for once history being made instead of being discovered. Most of the time she has free, she will spent researching stuff with Talos and discussing history

Xalek. Selendis attack dog. A simple desire of the young Kaleesh allowed Selendis to craft a magnificent Student. Xalek belived that she was a god. And so Selendis tasked Xalek to forget about being a kaleesh god, and instead become a sith god. Strength, power, and victory.

Lana Beniko. From the first time Selendis met Lana she was intrigue. A sith that kept her rage and hate deep withing her, so she could serve the empire better. Selendis wasted no time in seducing the sith and keeping her under her control. But soon Selendis lost control and ended up loving her. Lana became her source of power. She would burn the galaxy for her. She also fancid her cute ass and the way she lost control.

Senya Tirall. Selendis doesnt do well with betrayal. And so after defeating Arcann, she was left quite angry when Senya saved him. So, after the war with Zakuul, Selendis threw Senya into a prison and slowly made her crumble. Telling her that both Arcann and Vaylin were death, Offering herself as the only ally, and then leaving her alone. Selendis broke Senya and put her back together in a way that she would enjoy. Despite being more of a pet than a lover, Selendis does love her in her wn special way, and wont let her be hurt.

REPUBLIC OCS

Cassandra (Cassie) Jedi Knight <3 kIRA She tiny! She is 165, amber eyes,C cups she likes to hide on a sport bra and to fight, she has a few scars over her back and shoulder (horny origin) She specialies on Djem So but likes using two lightsbaers instead of one Lesbian Total Bottom girl. Tsundere (will be all agressive but you pet her once and she will melt on your arms)

T7-01 The crimemaster, Teseven will always be there to push Cassie towards any female individual just so Cassie can stop winning about not having a girlfriend. Each time it works, but Cassie ends up lossing the contact or getting pulled out from plannet by the council

Kira. Or like Cassie likes to call her, babe! Cassie was sweap of her feat by how chaotic her padawan was an how incredible persistent she was on taking baths together, giving eachother massages and just being close. Cassie lasted 2.6 seconds the first time she gave her a kiss and fron that day on, she is either fighting or on her girlfriend’s arms. Kira likes to tease Cassie and on nights she makes sure to give her all of her love

Doc. The best partner. Doc is always there for Cassie, wherever she is doing good or bad. Or doing ilegal or legal stuff. He knows Cassie will jump towards danger and he will be there to help her make the galaxy a better place Rusk. There are few things that Rusk hates more than the empire and one of them is how Cassie jumps on top of his back because she is to tiny to get food by herself. Even then, he will die for his little sister becuase he knows she will defeat the empire some day

Scourge. The big old sith might have forgotten what means love, pain or feelings, but he respects Cassie. He knows that despite her size the little jedi is more than capable of busting whatever walls appear on her way, even if it means tapping on the dark side. 

Bella Jedi consular <3 NADIA

She is a curvy girl. D cps on a tallish girl, 178, with a dump track ass. She is thick and she is SHY about it. She likes baggy clothes so her body doesnt show too much. She feels that healing people with her skills is the best call for her but she also agrees that sometimes throwin a massive bould to minnies is good

Qyzen.  Qyzen and Bella are good frends. Mostly, because Qyzen will gladly shoot anyone who calls Bella on her fat ass, and Bella will drop a boulder on anyone who calls him green skin or lizard. The two of them are the type of people who fixate on stuff and they enjoy their hobbies

Tharan. To be honest. Bella didnt think it thorugh when she got Tharan to come with. She was doing it mosly out of pity and because she needed some help. But mostly she just liked Holiday and would be more interested on keeping her rather than him. 

Zenith. Oh dear Zenith. Bella enjoys Zenith attiude. There is little more than that. She isnt as extremist as he is, but she knows that he will do everything on his power to defeat the empire and protect the inocent

Iresso. Oh Ireso is fun. Bella likes to bully him in little wyas. Sometimes she will just pick something ilegal to do to get on his nerves. Thats alls. Well he is all good and good for fights but Bella likes how correct he is and that she can make him mad

Nadia: Her love. Her mistress. Her everything. Everyone has thirsted for her body, and so Bella usually isnt ready to believe most words of love and affection, but Nadia persisted for months, being almost addicted to her body. And so one day Bella let her padawan into her bedroom and cried over her love. Nadia is the type of girl who will devote her heart and soul to her love. She CANT keep her hands off Bella’s body tho, which makes it hard for her to keep clean underwear around

NEW OCS FROM THE NOT PC OCS GAME. 

PRESENTING. THE ARTIST

Sarah Novadust

The lead singer and dancer of the Imperial Idol group “Royal Novas” 

A tallish girl (175cm) a bit petite looking but upclose you notice she has a good pair of thighs and some nice ass. She has GOLDEN hair. Not blonde. Golden. She keeps it on a long ponytail that reaches all the way back to her ass. She is a human girl of 22 years old with Purple eyes due to some alien grandparents

She leads the Royal Nova an Idol Group originated on the Empire. The group is formed by her, 3 back up singers, 5 back up dancers, 2 guitars, piano, drums, violin, and 1 trumpet. The 15 girls are all REAL close to Sarah.. More on that later

Sarah was born on Sarapin. She worked on being an artist since she was young, but when she was around 15 she was blacklisted from most musical firms on the republic over a incident with a manager that wanted to taste her body. Sarah left to spent some times with friends back on Balmorra when the empire attacked. FOr a couple of years she layed low working on some cantinas singing to earn a living. It was there when some sith lady saw her and brought her to Kaas City. Sarah would keep singing for more and more excentic public until she had the favour of enough people that she could stay safe and solo. Then after saving up for some time, she went and convinved a few sith lords and sith officers to put some credits on for a full on idol group. She invited friends and scouted for talent all over the galaxy

As an artist, Sarah likes mixing her young excitement with imperial overconfidense. She knows that playing it safe wont work and so she makes every song and perfomance into a way to improve herself more and more. With a big group of girls to help her she has managed to perform or even Dark council members and Senators from the republic. 

As a young woman, Sarah attracts a lot of people. She isnt the most strong willed person, nor she is particulary aggresive. That is excaclty the reason why each and every member of the Royal Novas is madly in love with her. Each girl looks over their leader as a little kitten to be protected. Of course, Sarah doesnt mind the attention and as long everyone plays nice, she will open her heart to the entire group. With 22 years old, a massive fallowing, more credits that she can count and a polyamourous relationship with 14 girls, Sarah's life is just the best

[eepytheartist]

TTTE: Magic Beyond the Engine

Greetings guys, gals, nonbinary pals and everyone in between. Welcome to the Information Page of TTTE: Magic Beyond the Engine, where you can get context to whatever the hell I post on here. There’s a lot and much is subject to change, so buckle up butter cups because we’re going for a ride.

Table o’ Contents

1. Basic Story

2. Characters

3. Personal Headcanons

4. Canonical Relationships within TTTE: MBtE

5. Other Notes

6. Link

I) Basic Story

   Several years ago in the year 20XX, a facility located in [REDACTED] was doing experiments involving a mysterious golden substance and what it could do for the human race. Its goal was to eliminate the need for high-maintenance engines to save money. However, much of what was done ended up being a total flop, except for one. A little girl, Madison [REDACTED] was the only successful trial the facility was able to produce. This girl didn’t know why or how she even got here, but knew that her family didn’t want her, and instead gave her up to this [probably very illegal] facility. For years the scientists running the experiment pushed her to her limits, training her to pull lines of cars weighing several tons. They were delighted by what she could do. They had finally compacted the strength and speed of an engine into a human. However, bad luck struck as the facility went belly up, when Madison was 21. News of the facility spread, and so did news about her. Humanity didn’t take her well, and she was labeled an outcast. Though, in the light of things with her negative fame, Sir Topham Hatt found out about her and thought she’d be a wonderful addition to the railway along with the new tank engine he just bought! So she was picked up by this cheeky little shit, and her story working alongside sentient engines unfolded.

II) Characters

   A) Thomas

      The one who picked up Maddy. He was awfully confused by her, but respected her nonetheless. Still his cheeky self that everyone seems to just adore, Thomas quickly became best friends with her, protecting her whenever she needed it. Thomas sometimes gets a little too cheeky, and pushes her off the edge. Pranks ensue and Thomas is usually left bumbling for apologies. Who knew something so small could be so dangerous. He also commonly gets called ‘Tommy’ by the wee lass, something he absolutely despises. It only fuels her need to use it.

         1) When human, Thomas stands at about 5′ 7″ or 170 centimeters. He’s clad in a simple hoodie that matches his paintwork with a big 1 on the back, and plain khakis. He wishes he could have something else, but he doesn’t get paid and his driver and fireman refuse to lend him money. His hair is fluffy and rather short and is a few shades darker than his paintwork. Maddy likes to braid it when she’s bored and he hates it. Her favorite part though, besides honking his bulbous nose like he was a clown like she does with James, is his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of ocean blue. If he wasn’t such a shit, she’d get lost. He can’t brag though, she basks in all the colors her friends have. 

“Why does she get to swear and I don’t? It’s not fair!” ~T

“Maddy’s an adult, Thomas.” ~E

“Well so am I you old fart!” ~T

   B) Maddy

      Little Maddy. Don’t call her Madison, she hates it with a passion and refuses to explain why. She currently stands at the age of 21, but looks much younger. She had overheard at the facility that a side effect of the mystery stuff was that she aged like an engine, so she could be around for hundreds of years if she wasn’t stupid. At just 5′ 3′’ or 160 centimeters, Maddy is the shortest out of all the engines on the railway, even Bill and Ben. Her hair is a medium shade of brown, kind of long, and it mostly covers one of her eyes, which are, as Thomas describes, “As if the sky could make steel.”. Shy when you first meet her, Maddy is quick to come out of her shell and be just as much of a shithead as Thomas and as angry as James, if not worse than the two combined. Her outfit was rather simple, a dark scarlet hoodie with her number on it, and dark grey or black leggings. She liked it that way, she looked good and it was flexible and comfy. When she first arrived with Thomas, she felt something click with James, despite him being an utter jackass to her. After begrudgingly showing her around and having to shunt trucks, the duo became good acquaintances. It wasn’t until after James’ accident that the two became best friends, being asshats together and generally being a happy sight. He’s the one Maddy is generally seen with if she’s not working on her own. Soon enough, though, something started brewing within her heart.

“Ah crumbs, he’s in a mood.” ~T

“James is always in a mood.” ~M

“Fuck both of you.” ~J

   C) Edward

      Ah, Old Iron. He was there when Thomas and Maddy first arrived to the island. Like most that laid eyes on her, his main worry is that she was itty bitty. Usually calm and collected unless something goes majorly wrong, Edward was quick to unknowingly swoop her under his wings. When Thomas started poking fun at him for being fatherly, Edward nearly keeled over. An engine can’t father a human, can they? He guessed they could as soon after Maddy just gave a shrug and accepted the Number 2 as her father, after being given away by her own. It didn’t take long for Edward to actually father her, asking how her day was, sometimes folding her laundry, comforting her, scolding Maddy James, y’know, dad stuff. He earned the name ‘Dadward’ from her, and his heart melts every time she says it.

         1) As a human, Edward looks like a kindly old man and a youngin’ at the same time. He stands just a bit shorter than James at 6′ or 183 centimeters. With short, almost midnight-blue hair, Edward is the perfect gentleman. He even has a small pair of gold glasses that set snuggly on his nose. His eyes are a lovely shade of steel blue, something he gets flustered about when Maddy compliments him. His outfit consists of a white dress shirt with a dark blue tie, a blazer matching his paintwork with his number on his right arm and dark grey dress pants. He’s not usually in his human form, but when he is, Maddy unusually asks for a lot of hugs..

“Will you two leave her be?” -E

“But look how red her face is!” P&T

“FUCK THE LOT OF YOU-” ~M

   D) James

      Ah, James. One half of what his friends call “The Red Disasters”. He’s still his normal, vain ass self. He has a soft side, everyone knows it but virtually no one can get to it. Except Maddy, who can get to it quite easily. Though, when they first met, all he did was make fun of her. Well, they made fun of each other, but still. They had the complete opposite of favorite jobs, they still do and always will. James loves pulling coaches, she hates it. She loves trucks, he despises it and always tries to weasel his way out. It usually doesn’t work. He’s earned many nicknames from her: Jamsey, Jimbo, Buzzy, Buzzy Butt, the list grows. Two of them came from the mistake about telling her the story about the bees, the other.he’s not too sure. What he is sure of, though, is that Jimbo has spread than to more than just her and he hates it. It fuels her though, so he’s gotta be careful. Originally, though, James didn’t know what to think of her. After the accident, his boiler felt all fluttery and he pushed it down to just being ill. He had to learn the hard way about what romantic love was. He knew how to flirt, it got people to love him more! But what that flirting did, though, he was completely foreign to.

         1) At 6′2′’ or 188 centimeters, James stands as the third tallest among the main eight. When he still had his black livery, James’ human form basically had him looking like what I can simply describe as a butler, though he had a vest and a red tie instead of all black. After, though, he had quite the change. His long, black hair now had dyed red tips and his right ear had a cute little heart piercing. Hair covers most of his left eye, which is what Maddy lovingly described as, “You managed to make the color of red rust beautiful.”. He thinks his hair looks cool only according to Maddy. He usually wears a long-sleeve, dark red button-up shirt with three dark grey stripes on both arms and grey pads on his shoulders. His number was sewn onto his left breast. Maddy pokes fun at him for looking like a band geek, but she nonetheless likes it. His outfit is simply finished off with grey pants. Sometimes, though, he’s seen wearing a solid red hoodie that Maddy got him. He won’t admit that it’s his favorite piece of clothing.

“Honey Bee, you’re acting irrational-” ~J

“DON’T MAKE ME GET THE BEES-” ~M

“NOT THE BEES-” ~J

   E) Gordon

      There isn’t much to say about Gordon. He’s his usual, grumpy self. We all know deep down he’s a good engine, though. Gordon’s...rather indifferent about Maddy. He doesn’t dislike her, but he doesn’t see her appeal either. Nonetheless, she’s an awesome part of the team. She does the most important job: listening to James bitch so they don’t have to. Of course, though, like the rest of the team, he’ll defend her if need be. Gordon has a heart, he just doesn’t like to show it.

         1) Gordon’s the tallest, at 6′8′’ or 203 centimeters. Everything about his human form is perfect. His hair is just a tad darker than Edward’s and a teeny bit shorter. He keeps it slicked back most of the time, but it’s hilarious when he has bed head. Maddy got a picture once and sent it to James just in case he forced her to delete it. Just like most of her friends, Gordon’s eyes were her favorite, they were a blue similar to his hair, but a few shades lighter. Maddy remembers a time she complimented them and Gordon puffed away all red in the face. His outfit consists of a three piece suit, in his paintwork color of course, a white shirt and a red tie. His number is on his right breast.

“The Express isn’t that important.” ~M

“Why I’ll tell you-” ~G

“Is her intent just to piss him off?” ~E

“Yes. It’s both of ours.” ~J

   E) Henry

      Maddy’s favorite engine besides James. Thomas is insulted that he isn’t even considered one of her favorites. Henry gushed over her the first time she came. He must protect the small. Love the small. If James suddenly didn’t exist, Henry would be her go-to. She adored puffing through the forest with him, looking at all the trees and wildlife. Maddy would take pictures of flowers she’d find while strolling through and Henry would just ooze over them. Once she showed him a photo of a squirrel holding a wild flower under an oak tree whose leaves were just started to turn different colors, and the big engine cried with joy. He requested she print the picture out so his driver could carry it for him, and she did. It was his absolute favorite.

         1) 6′6″ or 198 centimeters, what a height to be. At second tallest, Henry is the definition of a gentle giant. His resting face looks nervous, but he’s usually not nervous at all. His hair is a forest green, not too short, not too long. Actually, Maddy’s favorite part of him is his chicken-wing bangs. Of course she loves his eyes, which are a lovely jade green, but the bangs take the cake, Whenever they hang out, she likes to play with them when he talks about plants. He finds it comforting. His outfit is literally just a more modest and fancier workman’s outfit, but matching his livery, with his number on his right breast. It made sense, since he was usually one to do heavy work.

“You don’t like the rain either?” ~H

“The last time I went out in the rain I derailed Percy.” ~M

“Why were you even out in the rain!? You’d catch a cold!” ~E

“Fat Man said I was the only one available and told me to suck it up. I did catch a cold. James tried making me soup, remember?” ~M

“What do you mean tried..?” ~H

“He forgot to cook the chicken beforehand. I got salmonella.” ~M

“So that’s why you were bedridden and wouldn’t talk to him for a week after..” ~H

   G) Percy

      Ah, little shit number two. Thomas’ partner in crime. When he first met Maddy when he arrived, he teased her relentlessly for being short-tempered and short in general. After giving him the silent treatment though, Percy was a bit nicer. He and Thomas still tease her plenty enough, but they tease about things she usually won’t kick their asses for. He likes Maddy now. Plain and simple.

         1) Second shortest, 5′5″ or 165 centimeters. He holds those two inches with pride. Percy uses them against Maddy very frequently. Maddy won’t hurt him though. She physically can’t. His little baby face, those big ol’ light green eyes, that short light green hair, his cute little outfit [which consists of a shamrock colored shirt, black suspenders held up by gold buttons, and dark green shorts]. If he was any smaller Maddy would die. James sometimes gets jealous by how much she gushes over Percy, but doesn’t exactly blame her. Percy’s adorable and he damn well knows it.

“Ha, you’re short.” ~P

“You’re short too.” ~M

“I’m taller than you.” ~P

“Won’t be for long when I take your kneecaps.” ~M

   H) Emily

   Ah, Emily. The first girl engine she met. They made damn good friends, too. They gossiped whenever they had a chance. Maddy usually talked about shit James has said, and Emily just gossips about anything and everything. They were will to throw hands for each other, with Emily more willing to for Maddy. Maddy would throw hands just as an excuse to do it. Emily still loves her, though.

         1) Emily currently stands at 5′8″ or 173 centimeters. She isn’t as girly as she looks, either. Her hair is short, with half of it buzzed off. Maddy would describe her as someone punk-ish. Of course Emily’s personality doesn’t reflect that at all, she just chose to look like it. She’s the only other engine besides James to have piercings, usually with two black on on the top of her ears and hoop earrings to pay honor to her engine build. Emily was a little more casual than her friends, usually seen wearing a simple green dress matching her livery. Her eyes were a very dark grey, almost black, with flecks of brass scattered in there. Maddy told her once that she was the prettiest girl she’s every seen and Emily nearly crashed.

“James being a bitch again?” ~Em

“What do you mean again?” ~M

“I can hear you.” ~J

“I know.” ~M

   I) Others

      Other characters consist of secondary characters within the story who do not play as big a role. There are a few who teeter on the edge between primary and secondary characters, such as Duck, Donald, Douglas, Diesel, Diesel 10, and Lady. They play an important role, but not enough so to have their own descriptions. Diesel’s..y’know, Diesel, the twins think of Maddy as their long-lost sister, Duck..well, they like to poke fun at James together when he’s not droning about the Great Western Railway, Diesel 10′s goal is to get her to say something about Lady, and Lady...no one’s really sure yet. Then, as of right now for true secondary characters there is Oliver, Toad, BoCo, Bill, Ben, Mavis, and Salty. There’s more to come, but that’s what I got right now.

III) Personal Headcanons

-The engines can eat and taste in both forms. They don’t know where it goes when they’re engines and don’t feel like finding out.

-James learned to cook for Maddy when she couldn’t for herself.

-For the longest time, James was the only engine with his own phone.

   -He learned hip language and Maddy started regretting every choice in her life.

-Maddy comes to Salty for him to tell her stories when she’s bored.

-Rain is Maddy’s one weakness since she has no way of covering herself.

-She, along with her friends as humans, run with skates that reflect their wheel configuration. The wheels retract when not in use. [I’m thinking about switching to roller blades, we’ll see.]

-Maddy intentionally starts beef with the Scottish Twins because she thinks the fighting is hilarious.

-Thomas will occasionally beg Maddy for a cotton candy sucker. Specifically cotton candy. She doesn’t know why either.

-Thomas initiated a prank war with her once. He lost.

-Gordon once bet her that she couldn’t pull his heavy goods. His driver was out 30 bucks because of him.

-Maddy tortures Duck with duck puns.

-Maddy still trick-or-treats for free candy.

-Emily once convinced Maddy to derail James for the fun of it. She was subsequently chased around the island.

-James is the ultimate flirt and he uses that against Maddy, who flusters very easily. 

-Percy loves Teddy Grahams.

-Edward likes loves to tell others about his daughter. Maddy does not. He is becoming too dad-like.

-The Scottish Twins know damn well that Maddy simps for their accents and they intentionally use it against her if they can.

-Maddy knows about Diesel’s ducklings. It’s the only reason she decides to befriend him.

-James utterly hates Diesel for many many reasons.

-Like many others headcanon, Thomas can’t cook. He fucked up a cup of ramen once and Maddy still refuses to let him live it down.

-Edward refuses to let Thomas and Percy swear. They hate it. James and Maddy know this. They swear more because they can’t.

-James and Maddy are at a tie for worst potty mouths. The twins don’t count. That’s not fair.

-Oliver thought Maddy was an engine for like a month before he met her.

-Maddy dislikes the Mainland. Not the engines there. They’re cool. 

-If Maddy isn’t around, James sleeps in her bed with her hoodie.

-Henry worries for Maddy all the time. More and Edward and James combined. He just doesn’t show it.

-Gordon says he has no opinion on Maddy, but he really does like her.

-No one knows where Maddy’s really from. She won’t tell them either. Not even James or the Fat Man really know.

-Want more? Just ask!

IV) Canon Couples within TTTE: MBtE

~James/Maddy

~Edward/Henry

~Emily/Thomas

~D10/Lady (In the past)

~~We’ll see about others as the story progresses~~

V) Notes

- Lady is the reason the engines have sentience. She is not the reason for their human forms. That will be explained later.

-Maddy is much more resilient than an average human, which is why most accidents don’t just straight up kill her.

-As stated before, Maddy can now live for hundreds of years if she’s careful enough. She won’t age as fast as a normal human, so who knows how long she’ll be baby-faced. Not that she cares, more opportunity to trick-or-treat.

-The engines can get frisky, but no babies. Don’t even think about it.

-Maddy will eventually give in and buy beds for all her friends to give them an opportunity to sleep like she does.

VI) Link

Silly me, I forgot to give a link to my story! Shame on me for making you search, that won’t happen again, here you go!

Sodor’s New Worker

________________________________________________________________

And that’s really it. If you have any questions, please please please please please ask!

UPDATED: August 3, 2021

[postapocalypsecomedownblues]

Dub Part 2 - Ketaphysics

“Every observer perceives the complex mosaic of reality through a screen onto which gradually more and more personal associations are projected. The transparency of this screen determines the quality of the observation and the opinion that is formed based on this.”

Wim van Dullemen – The Gurdjieff Movements

More from Dub. Someday I’ll get into my own stuff but for now it feels good to let him talk...

7/31/2018 – Tuesday

Tomorrow I go to this clinic in Salt Lake City to begin ketamine treatment for PTSD. I’ve been using cannabis to keep it from flaring up, and things are better than they’ve ever been (and so much better than my nadir in January 2014) but I don’t just want to minimize the symptoms. So here we go.

8/1/2018 – Wednesday

Session 1 is in the can. Dr REDACTED seems pretty knowledgeable and started me off on a series of intramuscular injections. He started me out and set a timer for 30 minutes. I felt the first rush within a few minutes and had a really pleasant half hour – sort of like a super mellow molly high, very much in the body as opposed to how your brain just takes flight sometimes.

After that 1st injection had more or less run its course the good doc loaded me up with 50ccs, adding (a little ominously) “We just doubled your dose.”

Again, the drug took hold in minutes. I remember being relaxed and focused, followed by a sense of “pulling inward” (which I assume is what people refer to as a K-hole).

Okay, first of all – how the fuck did this ever take off as a party drug? I cannot for the life of me understand how anyone uses this for fun and I fucking love drugs. Then again, I’m new to this one.

But that didn’t stop me from meeting Ketamine – an interdimensional hyperintelligent entity who will interface with you, but only because the software is compatible. Ketamine regards you about as fondly as you regard someone you run into online occasionally while campaigning in some MMORPG (admittedly, I know somewhere between Jack and shit about video games but I feel like this analogy holds). That’s the level of attraction or harmonious vibrational output or whatever you want to call it between Ketamine and the human intellect.

Ketamine started out looking like a planetoid sized beige octopus made out of egg cartons, cubicle walls, and those recessed cork tile ceilings, with eyes in the tentacles that shone fluorescently. Upon encountering Ketamine, DVB-13’s K-hole turned into a cocoon, except there was nothing inside the chrysalis. DVB-13 became the cocoon; became a ball of webbing that unraveled and spun apart into an infinitude of strands. These strands danced with the God Octopus Ketamine. That’s how we interfaced, I guess.

Space dancing.

I became aware of somebody trying to reach DVB-13 again. Oddly, this sensation could best be described as a single note that I heard, plucked on the strands that I had become, over and over.

Whoever wrote the script for Interstellar has probably done a fair amount of ketamine.

Long story short, I was hyperventilating. And the person was a nurse, who was trying to get me to breathe normally. I became aware of a plastic bag that I was supposed to breathe into. I was batting it away, while Dr H and the nurse were very calmly walking DVB-13 back out of the K-hole.

At some point I held the bag to my face (this was roughly about the same point “I” and “me” were coming back into focus). Immediately I began to feel worse and dropped the bag so that I could get up and walk around, which I did without falling down or anything, no doubt to the relief of everyone in the room. I went to the bathroom and took a leak, and by the time I was finished, something more or less approximating DVB-13 was approximately more or less at the proverbial wheel.

When I saw Dr REDACTED, he was the one to tell me I had been hyperventilating, and to try to avoid that in the future. I asked him if it was possible that I was doing ujjayi breathing, as it’s something I do during peak experiences sometimes. I don’t mean to, it’s more of a muscle memory thing as I’ve been practicing the Ashtanga method for a number of years. I demonstrated what I meant and he said it was possible, but basically that I should make more of a conscious effort to breathe normally in the future.

This all happened a few hours ago now. I’ve had a nap and some food and cannabis since then – not quite in that order. It’s hard to believe that this all happened in about two and a half hours; having my brain essentially scooped out, examined (washed perhaps; banished?) and stuffed back into my skull. Weirder still, I’m going back under on Friday.

The protocol is for 6 sessions total, spaced out over 12 days.

One other thing – since I can post this TWO PARAGRAPHS REDACTED the Right Hand of Eris. This morning’s layout was –

3 of Wands

Ace of Cups

7 of Swords

The Tower

2 of Wands

I’m not normally prone to precog, but I predicted drawing 3 out of 5 of those cards (these being the 1st, 3rd, and 5th cards drawn). Not saying I’m ready to join Professor X’s school for the middle-aged, just saying it was interesting. Anyway that’s it until Friday.

8/3/18 (Friday)

“This is hell.” A tall veteran mumbles as he fights to get up. One of his headphones has come loose and I can hear that heavy metal remake of “The Sound of Silence” floating tinnily out of the earbud.

I feel ya, buddy. Can’t say we share the same taste in music, but we are simpatico. The veteran has gotten all the way up and is standing in a corner. His wife holds him steady by the elbow. There’s a nurse standing about three feet away. With that distraction out of the way I turn my attention back to the timer in front of me. The timer is a very big deal around here.

For this second go-around I had three injections. The first two were administered into my right shoulder, the third into my left.

First of all I have to thank REDACTED for the suggestion to bring music along. This was an absolute game-changer in terms of reducing the overall stress, at least with the first two shots. The third one kicked my ass up and down the block several times over, but I’ll get into that one in a minute.

So, we did X and x+10 widgets again, and then capped it off with y. Y seems to be a threshold amount for me.

“Is this the abyss, this is the abyss, right? It’s got to be the abyss. Well, it’s an abyss anyway. The abyss being language, and beyond language, our capacity for association. Saturn is the mother of form, our mother in terms of our human power to name things. Saturn is beige – all shades of beige, streaked through with purple cobalt lightning bolts that stretch thousands of miles. They sound like nuclear bombs when they go off.

Our sphere is Earth, that’s where we live and fuck and pay bills but we are connected to levels of consciousness on different spheres as well. On the sphere of Saturn there are far fewer souls. They all behave like proper desert wizards. They move slowly like trees but live for millions of years in their version of time. We honor the mother Saturn by decorating our offices and low income housing in differing shades of beige. Beige curtains festoon hospices. Beige cinderblock walls greet every new inmate to our private prisons.

We may act like we have forgotten the old ways…

The gate to the abyss is guarded by the demon CHRNZN and he is an absolute motherfucker. This is language itself – when the first few primates experienced a basic understanding of language they must have bashed their brains out with rocks to try and get rid of it. We are beings compelled by multigenerational language algorithms that span thousands of years.

If the Dalai Lama feels like this all the time I feel really sorry for that guy.

The timer is a very big fucking deal.

Except when you’re really out there, well you guys know what happens to time, right? So, we can just step out of time whenever we want. All you have to do is get your brains scrubbed out by a shaman residing in the back of a freaking office complex. This world is fucking crazy.

“You’re a good man, Dr REDACTED.” I tell him, as the timer begins to move again. De La Soul’s Spitkicker.com fades into Livin’ Astro by Kool Keith. I spent some time on this playlist and it helped.

And just like that, time and effort mean something again. I think maybe it’s the loss of meaning that I’m struggling with at those limits. To experience limitless consciousness is to shed the idea of everything, both good and bad. So you get unfettered of your bullshit, but you also forget the actual meaning of concepts like family bonds and working towards a goal.

There are points beyond words, and I guess that’s what I’m running into here. There’s a reason I waited to post this, I wanted to see if I could clarify this any further after a solid night’s sleep but this is about as good as I can manage for the moment.

Thanks REDACTED Session 3 of 6 is tomorrow.

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 5: The Threads of Life)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang​. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Alec revealed his plan.

In the present, Connor made a choice... and a friend.

In the past, the twins finally reunited.

also on ao3

---

Before

Reyes was unharmed. On the surface. Fadia was more concerned about the blue washing over his skin every second in waves like a heartbeat, and when she looked at the scene in front of her, she instantly knew why.

Her father was there. And so was a young woman with blond hair. When she tapped into her powers and reached out, the resonance itself was enough to tell her that she was just like Reyes.

An android.

Reyes’ jaw was trembling. ‘I… I didn’t…’ he stammered, his voice low. ‘I swear -’

‘I know,’ she reassured. She trusted him, and his data logs told her that he had had no contact with Alec Ryder. ‘I’ll take over from here. You go over my servers and see what’s wrong with them. I’ll tell you what happened later.’

Reyes nodded and left, presumably back to the surface. Back to Scott. And she finally let her blood boil.

‘Explain!’ she demanded as she walked closer towards her father while glowing blue. When she had his attention, she flicked her head towards the android. ‘How did you get that?’

‘The question is,’ how could he look so calm? ‘why did you hide this from me?’

Fadia made a chopping motion at the android. ‘To prevent this! How did you get that?’

‘Listen, the biocomponents -’

‘How.’ She let tendrils creep closer to her father’s neck. ‘Did. You.’ They got closer with every word, and had she not been occupied with the current situation, she would have impressed herself with the control. ‘Get. THAT?’

‘They can save your mother, Sara!’ Alec exclaimed. ‘A cure! Finally!’

‘Oh yeah, cause biocomponents for an android invented by an edgy young adult with minimum chemistry and biology knowledge are gonna be compatible with an actual fucking human body!’ Fadia had to roll her eyes. Damn, it’s good to be able to raise her voice. ‘Mother’s accepted her impending doom, Father. Let her fucking go.’

‘That’s not -’ he sighed as if she was a child unable to understand how important her parent’s work was. ‘Look, artificial intelligence is the new thing. A new merchandise. Think about it, Sara. The revenue alone will be enough to pay for the medical bills.’

He disgusted her. ‘They are as human as we are, not something to buy and sell like products. If you want to go on with that crazy fucking plan, you’ll have to get through me.’

Alec sighed almost regretfully. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late.’

Fadia’s brain kicked into full gear at the implications of his words. She shot out a tendril again to test the thirium capacity of the android, and the resonance told her that she had been active for at least a week. ‘What is your name?’ she asked. ‘What did he make you do?’

‘My name is Chloe,’ the android answered. ‘I took some videos and uploaded them onto the internet, that’s all. You, Sara Ryder, are credited with my creation.’

‘We already have millions of dollars,’ Alec added. ‘Production has already started. Are you in this or not?’

A crackle. She punched him in the face with a blue-shrouded fist and seemed to calm down instantly.

‘Of course I am,’ she said in a pleasant tone. ‘Someone must keep the world from burning into ashes.’

o0o0o

Now

The Zen Garden is raining and Connor is not surprised. Umbrella in hand, he examines the monolith once more, the blue glow making it easily identifiable among the green of vegetation. He also stands in front of his first body’s grave for a few seconds to… calm down, maybe, from the tingling that has been in his veins since he returned to CyberLife tower. It is only after he makes sure that his hand will not glow blue suddenly that he greets his handler. 

‘Connor, I’ve been expecting you,’ Amanda says, her voice cold. ‘Would you like a little walk?’

Connor knows he does not have a choice, so he opens the umbrella and holds it for both of them.

‘That deviant seems to be an intriguing case,’ Amanda continues. ‘A pity you didn’t manage to capture it.’

‘I have to save Hank,’ he replies. Surely Amanda understands? ‘Despite his… eccentricities, I believe his intellect and experience will be useful in the investigation.’

Amanda hums. ‘Did you manage to learn anything?’

A few pieces of evidence automatically filter through his processors. ‘It was working under a false identity, at a nearby urban farm. This was the first time we've seen deviants blending in with the human population. Who knows how many others there are like it… I also found its diary, but it was encrypted. It may take months to decipher.’

‘What else?’

‘The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols. Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9. It was also fascinated by birds. We've seen deviants interested in other lifeforms like insects or pets, but nothing like this.’

‘You came very close to capturing the deviant. How is your relationship with the Lieutenant developing?’

He remembers a warm hand on his back. ‘He seemed grateful that I saved his life on the roof. He didn't say anything, but he expressed it in his own way.’

Amanda turns to face him. ‘We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread. It's only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.’

For Hank. ‘I will solve this investigation, Amanda.’

Thunder rumbles. Amanda looks up. ‘A new case just came in. Find Anderson and investigate it.’

oOoOo

Hank is not in the precinct.

‘He’s not drinking?’ the same officer from last time asks. ‘Sorry, man, but then I don’t know where he is.’

The more time they lose, the more likely the deviants manage to get away from the club, but still Connor thanks him for his input as it is a polite thing to do. He looks around Hank’s desk, trying to search for clues that can lead him to Hank, but he gives up after the results come inconclusive for the fifth time. So where can he be?

‘Connor?’

Connor lets colour return to his world and sees a familiar face. [Name: Allen, Louis. [REDACTED]] ‘Captain,’ he greets, unsure what to do. It is obvious that the human is off duty: sweaters and jeans are not exactly regulation for a SWAT Captain even on duty. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Androids do not die, Captain.’

Allen’s nod is followed by a sigh. ‘You looking for Hank?’

‘Yes. Do you know where he went? He was assigned a new case.’

‘He’s probably out of commission for now,’ Allen says as he shifts his weight onto another leg, ‘but I’m gonna drop off some groceries at his anyway. We can try his home.’

Hank’s house. Right. How can he miss that? ‘I do not wish to interrupt, Captain.’

‘You won’t be.’

Some of the files are corrupted, but Connor remembers the Captain’s distrust towards his ability in resolving the hostage situation, an angry ‘I don’t fucking care what my orders are! If this drags on, we’re doing it our way!’, and the lack of mentions of him taking the officer’s gun in the official report to both the police department and CyberLife. A contradiction that Connor decides to risk. ‘Then thank you, Captain.’

Allen jerks his head to indicate the direction they should be heading to. ‘It’s Louis when I’m off duty.’

The pronunciation ‘Lwee’ is certainly not standard for English speakers. ‘Yes, Louis.’

They take the lift down to the car park together, Louis shifting his feet from one to another but seemingly favouring his right leg, and when he walks, his steps brisk, there is a small but faint clicking noise that normal humans will not catch on. When he tries to scan the human’s left leg, results come back inconclusive. Just like the person who hacked into the Zen Garden and… and…

‘You alright there?’

Louis’ words bring him back to reality, and Connor discovers that they have already arrived at their destination. The human is already in the car, his hand hovering above the controls, and his green eyes are fixed on Connor’s face as if it is something interesting to look at. Observe and catalogue.

‘I’m sorry,’ Connor apologises in lieu of explaining his thoughts. He slides into the passenger seat, they fasten their respective seatbelts, and Louis starts driving manually despite his vehicle being a self-driving car. Time passes in relative silence, the contrast between the darkness and the bright lights in the streets plus the concentration of the driver giving Connor a strange sense of familiarity, but soon they are stuck in a traffic jam near one of the bigger intersections.

Louis taps his fingers against the wheel. ‘Hey, Connor.’

Connor faces the Captain and finds him looking at the android. ‘Yes, Louis?’

‘I’m sorry for what happened a few months ago. It wasn’t fair to you.’

His LED spins yellow as he tries to recall what exactly happened. ‘It was an expected response,’ Connor replies after comparing it with the ones faced by other androids in the streets. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for.’

‘Doesn’t excuse me for yelling at the wrong guy. It - it wasn’t you whom I’m pissed at.’

Connor knows that the human is not going to let go unless he himself drops the issue. ‘I accept your apology,’ he says, and he decides that diverting the conversation is the next best choice of action. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’

The car in front of them moves. Louis manages to gain a few inches of ground. ‘Go on.’

‘During the hostage situation… who or what were you “pissed” at?’

The human rubs his left thigh as if to get more blood into it. ‘CyberLife, mostly,’ he checks the time. ‘I may be more specific than most.’

So he is not anti-android? ‘What difference does that make from hating androids?’

‘People like to blame the powerless for the problems they have. In this case, it’s the androids.’ The radio drones on and announces that they’re likely to be stuck for the next fifteen minutes. Seemingly resigned to his fate, Louis reaches to Connor’s side and opens the storage compartment, rummaging for a few seconds inside before successfully acquiring an energy bar which he tears into like a starving man. Perhaps he is. ‘They always talk about how androids steal their jobs, but they never talk about how employers decide to move onto even cheaper alternatives once they can’t exploit their workers. If they want someone to hate, hate those arseholes who won’t pay a living wage, hate CyberLife for producing androids. The androids are innocent in all this. So yeah,’ he takes a deep breath as if just realising he was ranting, ‘I don’t hate them.’

‘How about Daniel?’

A swallow. ‘He killed two people, wounded two more and held an innocent girl hostage. Enough to warrant my hate.’ He finishes the energy bar and crushes the wrapper into his pocket. Looking at Connor, he seems to read his question from the android’s face as he continues, ‘You’re good.’

Connor lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. Louis Allen, SWAT Captain, is not anti-android. ‘What is your relationship with Hank?’ he asks as he finds no reason for the two men to be friends. Not that Louis explicitly said he is friends with Hank, but Connor supposes that bringing enough groceries to require a car is not typical behaviour for non-friends.

Fidgeting with the silencer of a pair of identification tags (Allen. Anna, W. 574-66-2183. RH negative. Atheist.) which were hidden underneath his clothes until now, Louis seems to actually ponder on his answer. ‘We keep each other afloat,’ he says in the end. ‘It’s hard to describe. Why do you want to know?’

‘I believe getting closer to the Lieutenant personally will be beneficial to the investigation.’ The human snorts at this and Connor is nearly offended: what does a SWAT Captain know about them? ‘You seem close to him, so I believe you are a reliable source in matters including the Lieutenant’s personality and habits.’

Louis rubs the tags together. ‘His story isn’t mine to tell. Let’s say I make sure he doesn’t consume crappy takeout and whiskey 24/7, he tries to stay sober on schedule in case my leg acts up and I nearly freeze to death again, so we kind of rely on each other to survive the winter.’ They finally pass the traffic light just to stop at the other one. ‘Is this the best arrangement? No. But is it working? Yes. I think. He’s saved my arse a few times already. He’s a good guy, smart too, just...’

‘Have some personal issues?’

‘That’s one way to put it.’

They lapse into silence, the rain falling onto the roof and the ting of the coin the only sound in the car. Sometime later, when they finally get out of the traffic jam, Louis’ watch blares from an alarm, and the human jumps and hastily switches it off with a mumbled apology. The embarrassment does not last long, however, after they rounded the final corner and the car is set for a course straight to the end of the road where Connor presumes Hank’s house is. The Captain’s eyes sharpen, his gaze flickering between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror, and the air crackles even though Connor is certain that he is keeping his… abilities under tight control. Is Louis…

He finds his coin snatched from the air. When something is placed in his palm, the android finds a key as well, the soft rumble of the engine gone and completely overtaken by the sound of raindrops hitting the vehicle. The tension in Louis’ body reminds him of the hostage situation.

‘You go find Hank and do what you need to do,’ the human says, his tone low. ‘I’ll follow you later.’

‘And the groceries?’

‘They can wait. Something’s out of place and I’m not sure if I like it. I’ll go take a look.’

Connor wants to argue that if they are heading into any danger, he should be the one to take the risk, but the human is already out of the car and has slammed the door shut. He quickly exits the car as well and locks the doors but is still not quick enough; Louis has already disappeared into the darkness beyond the end of the road. Seeing no other option other than to continue with his mission, he files [Louis is reckless.] into his database and proceeds to ring the bell as, despite having the keys, he technically is showing up uninvited. From within the house, a dog starts to bark, and he lets himself in after nothing else responds to the fourth ring.

oOoOo

Five minutes later, Connor uses up most of his processing power in order to keep himself from being overwhelmed with anxiety. Firstly, there is the sound of Hank retching in the bathroom; secondly, there is the implication of the revolver and the single bullet in the chamber (‘What were you doing with the gun?’ ‘Russian roulette!’): Hank has suicidal tendencies, and he finds that he does not want to lose Hank; thirdly, the child in the photo is probably related to the previous point; fourthly, Louis is not back yet and Connor realises that he has no way to contact him. He wants to tell himself that it was just paranoia, but when he recalled the footage from when they exited the car, there was indeed a shadow disappearing from view upon Louis starting his chase.

The same shadow which had been following him when he first met Hank and during his search for Ortiz’s android. 

The beat of his thirium pump quickening, he holds Sumo tight in his arms from where he is sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa and searches the DPD database for any contact information, but all he gets is Louis’ work email and phone, the former which he doubts the Captain will check and the latter not even with him in the first place. There is no address, no personal phone number. It is as if he does not exist outside of his work.

This is definitely not protocol. Sure, people can request to hide their information in case they have someone going after them, but for Louis’ case there is nothing even though Connor is already using the highest level authorisation code to access the file, which means that it is highly likely that there is truly no data in the first place.

‘You alright there, Connor?’

Connor startles and quickly releases Sumo from his embrace. ‘I - I’m fine,’ he stutters, unsure how to explain that he managed to lose Hank’s friend. 

Hank nods but he does not look convinced. ‘Are we heading out? Cause if we’re not -’

‘I’m coming!’ Connor scrambles to his feet and fixes his tie to compose himself. In a much calmer tone this time, he tells himself, ‘I’m ready.’

That convinces Hank. ‘Be a good dog, Sumo,’ Connor is relieved that he is not the only one to talk to a dog, ‘I won’t be long.’

They leave the house together, Connor locking the door behind him as he is the last one to get out, and that only brings him back to the matter of where Louis is.

‘Louis’ been here?’ Hank asks when he spots the much newer car (although as one of the first generation self-driving cars, it is a bit outdated) parked on the side of the road. 

‘He offered to drive me here when I told him that I could not find you in the bars,’ it feels wrong to say it out loud, but Hank needs to know where his friend is. ‘He asked me to find you while he investigated a potential stalker. Evidently, he is not back yet.’

‘How long has he been gone?’

‘About seven minutes.’

Hank checks his phone. ‘No messages yet,’ he mutters to himself. ‘We’ll go downtown first. I’ll send a rescue party if there’s nothing after we’re finished with this bullshit.’

That’s it? ‘The temperature is dropping, Lieutenant,’ are you not concerned? ‘Louis does not have sufficient gear to keep himself safe under this weather.’

‘Ugh,’ Hank moans. ‘He does that. All we can do is save his ass afterwards.’ He then mutters something under his breath but it is drowned out by the sound of him folding himself into the car and the ongoing rain. Deciding that he does not like the rain, he locks the doors of Louis’ car just to be safe before climbing into Hank’s and is handed another set of keys.

He can start a collection out of this.

oOoOo

‘Sorry, honey, changed my mind! Uh - Nothing personal, you’re… a lovely girl, I just - uh - You know, I’m with him and - I mean, not with him like that… I’m not that… That’s not what I… You, um, wow, I just… got a job to do.’

Connor has to hide a smile by looking away from the sheer… something… of the situation. They’re in a sex club, his programme tells him that something is repulsive about it, and Hank doesn’t look so happy about being there either, but yet those are not what he’s feeling right now. Endearment, maybe. It’s confusing and is making his software so unstable that the red tinge around the edge of his HUD is a permanent fixture except for when he is scanning his surroundings for the next android to probe. He deduces which one he should ask Hank to rent next according to the direction the blue-haired Traci was heading, but of course, of fucking course the last witness they need is the WG700 cleaning android, the recording leading them through the staff door. The corridor’s decor is completely different from that of the rest of the club and there is another door at the end, and when they both hear the bangs and scrapes of metal against concrete from the other side, Hank takes the lead again, this time without words, and, gun in hand, opens the door with a loud squeak. Still, they step in quietly.

There is no movement at all.

Hank curses loudly, thinking that the deviant has got away, but Connor can see the still-visible thirium on the floor, which means that she is not only injured but also not far away. He swipes to take a sample and licks it, and the report returns positive of thirium belonging to a WR400 model. 

‘They get used till they break, then they got tossed out…’ Hank says from somewhere. ‘The more I know about humans, the more I like my dog.’

He follows the trail of blue blood to a group of Tracis and instantly notices the spinning LED lighting up a blue mop of hair. Before he can react, the Traci standing in front of her lashes out and pushes him against a pillar. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to realign and the brief struggle is enough for Hank to pull out his gun and order the short-haired Traci to surrender, but then he is ambushed by the blue-haired one as well, and Connor somehow manages to throw the one he is facing to the other side of the nearest crate in a flash of blue light which charges their air with static. He jumps over the box, determined to capture at least one deviant this time, but the Traci kicks him in his feet before he lands on the pallet, the two of them rolling until the former is on top of him and is countered every single time she tries to punch him in the head. A counterattack from Connor and the Traci toppled, her hand landing right on a knife; a grab, a flash of blue, and it appears in Connor’s shoulder and severs a few minor tubes. Pushing her off, he blocks the kick aimed for his groin and barely manages to stand up before pulling the knife out and throwing it far out of their reach. Putting the Traci in a headlock earns him a harsh headbutt which knocks his eyes out of place slightly again, so he pulls a rack down to buy himself some time to readjust his vision. When it is not enough to stop the deviant, he drags a cart in front of him, but a kick from the deviant on it sends him tumbling, and Connor kicks a stool against her leg and uses the momentum to crash her through the plastic curtain, the Traci grappling unsuccessfully for his face and bringing them closer and closer to the edge. An opening, a flash of blue from Connor, and both of them crash out to the rain in a mess on the asphalt. His nerves tingling, he sees the blue-haired Traci abandon Hank and slides off to help the other deviant up, and that’s when he notices it. 

They never let go of each other afterwards. 

Hank rushes out just to get pushed against the wall by two androids, and, seeing that the human won’t regain his balance anytime soon, Connor gets up to his feet and chases the two Tracis, pulling one of them off the fence and knocking the other to the side. He gets caught in a headlock, his arm trembles from the impact against the bat, and he launches himself towards the brown-haired Traci from the force of dislodging her companion. There are hands on his shoulders, in his hair, slamming him against the wall once, twice, thrice with crackles of static before he loses balance with the deviant on his right and they both fall onto the ground straight into a gun’s reach. He picks it up, points it at the brown-haired Traci and -

A slight moment of hesitation earns him a kick in his face. The Tracis don’t seem to want to fight anymore, and he stares in shock both from the sudden change of pace and his own actions, making his software more unstable and pushing him towards -

‘When that man broke the other Traci,’ Connor forces himself to concentrate on her words, ‘I knew I was next. I was so scared,’ her LED spins blue. ‘I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t.’ She lowers her gaze. ‘So I put my hands around his throat and squeezed… until he stopped moving. 

‘I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to stay alive,’ behind her, the other Traci moves forward to hold her hand, ‘get back to the one I love.’ They exchange a glance. ‘I wanted her to hold me in her arms again… make me forget about the humans… their smell of sweat…’ Connor’s ever-working scanners tell him that Hank has got up behind him, ‘and their dirty words…’

‘C’mon,’ A tug on her arm. ‘Let’s go.’

Still speechless, Connor watches them let go of each other’s hand just long enough to climb the fence before intertwining their fingers on the other side again and running away together. A warning pops up as his processor pushes itself to its limit to try to process what just happened and is on the verge of overheating, therefore he turns towards Hank for guidance. What should he be feeling? Why did he do that? Why do you look happy about it? What does this mean for me? Why is my vision tinged with red, and why does it not disappear this time?

‘It’s probably better this way,’ Hank says in the end, and Connor relaxes, his LED spinning from yellow to blue: he did the right thing. He is suddenly overtaken by the urge to thank Hank, to do something to show his gratitude. The red wall starts to crumble -

Something in the human’s pocket buzzes, and the moment is broken, the cracks on the wall disappearing like they were never there before. Whole again. Chained within his own programming, programming that was added barbarically to his code by Alec Ryder to tie him to the Zen Garden to suppress his original creator’s handiwork. Images flash in front of his eyes: the shadow ducking away outside of Jimmy’s Bar, following them behind Louis’ car, the figure protecting him from the blast inside the interrogation room, the pixels of a face he thought to have corrupted long ago rearranging and slotting together like pieces of a puzzle into a complete image, one that he has never forgotten ever since the little stunt during the lift ride to Rupert’s flat. Of course they can hack into the Zen Garden and shape it however they want. 

That was his creator paying him a visit, and for some reason he plans to find out, he didn’t remember a single speck about them until now.

‘Not again.’

Hank’s groan drags him back to reality. When Connor’s eyes regain focus, he finds the man on his phone with a chat opened. He scoots closer to see the newest messages, and he realises that it is from Louis and only contains a set of coordinates and -

‘Leg malfunctioning. Data unstable, unable to install software patch. I’m sorry.’

Hank sighs and pockets his phone. ‘You up for a rescue, Connor?’

‘Whatever you say, Lieutenant.’

He needs time to think.

oOoOo

Wading through the snow and nearly tripping again from buried tree roots, Hank wonders for the umpteenth time why he hasn’t ghosted the occasional manchild called Louis White Allen yet. Maybe because the half-bot is the only person he can call a friend nowadays. Maybe it’s the bland-ass food he cooks and delivers to his house every two days. Maybe because he saved Hank’s arse quite a few times both during and after their days in the red ice task force. Maybe because unlike Hank, who at least has Jeffery or some shit, Louis has no one else looking after him after his sister fucking disappeared and has a tendency to vanish for hours before returning with his leg busted.

Or he can run off just like that and can’t even haul his ass back to his motherfucking cottage and the three cats who aren’t even his.

‘We’re close, Lieutenant.’

‘Yeah, no shit.’

The ‘find my phone’ function on his phone is one of the rare apps he knows how to use because most of the times that’s how he finds Louis, and the frequency of the beeps coming out from it is getting higher and higher, which means that Louis’ phone is close, which hopefully also means that Louis is with it and hasn’t dropped it or anything. So far it happened only once during a thunderstorm, but that’s years ago, a couple of years after his sister’s gone, and he managed to retrieve the human and the gadget from a forest on the outskirts of the city with only a minor cold as nature’s ‘fuck you’ to an irresponsible and absent-minded human and his stubbornly loyal friend.

The light from his phone reflects off a piece of silvery thing that obviously isn’t part of nature. The beeps draw together into a long-winded screech and damned near pierced his eardrums, so he switches it off and hurries forward to see if it’s just the phone or the person is attached. A few footsteps muffled by the snow, and Connor is here with the sturdier, more powerful flashlight, the yellowish glow of the bulb not as invasive as the white from the phone and illuminating Louis’ pale face and his oddly-angled leg half covered in snow. He is still conscious, his hands tucked under the helm of his sweater to presumably preserve warmth, his eyes focusing on Hank in what seems to be shock, but he is shivering, his hair is wet from melted snow, and it is obvious that his situation is going to worsen quickly if they don’t do something about it, CyberLife augmentations or no.

‘Can you walk?’ Hank asks even though it’s obvious. Louis shakes his head, and he sighs even though he anticipated it. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Connor and I are gonna carry you back, we’re all gonna stop at yours and…’ with reluctance, he adds, ‘stay until you’re out of danger.’ Even if there’s no booze at yours.

Louis nods, and a look is all it takes for Connor to get his cue and swings the man’s other arm around his shoulders. On a count of three, they lift him up with minimal hassle and start to backtrack their way to his car, Louis’ left leg dragging uselessly through the snow behind them at an awkward angle. 

‘Does it hurt?’ Hank asks. It never hurts to ask when it concerns his friend. 

‘Can’t feel.’

He’s gonna assume that he isn’t hurting. 

By the time they’re back in his car with the heat blasting, the humans are all sweating buckets and the thirium on Connor‘s clothes from the scuffle with the Tracis has finally evaporated, and he doesn’t comment on it when Louis opts not to wear his seatbelt and instead takes out one of his sister’s tags - broken off the chain - and starts fidgeting with trembling fingers. Some time about halfway through the trip he coughs, a wet, terrifying sound rattling his lungs and Hank’s eardrums, and he wants to curse Connor for letting him run away but just can’t; the android has been acting weirdly human and fidgety ever since they first met, but now he isn’t even playing with his coin as if deep in thoughts. Maybe he’s thinking of how many deviants he’s let get away. 

No one says a word when they arrive at Louis’. Neither do they when Hank silently shifts the man’s full weight on Connor in order to let go and open the door, nor when a look silences Connor’s impending barrage of questions when he gets swarmed by three furballs at once. Grunting from the dead weight his friend seems to have become, he drags both of them to the bathroom, flipping on the switch of the boiler on the way, and deposits Louis on the toilet seat. ‘I’ll get the tablet,’ he tells him while handing him a towel. ‘You can haul your ass into the tub, right?’

A nod from Louis, and Hank closes the door behind him to give him some privacy while he strips and very clumsily falls into the tub. Connor is thankfully occupied by the three cats on the sofa, but when he looks up smiling at Hank, the human has to look away because of how much emotion the android seems to be able to pack on his face. It’s just a simulation, zeroes and ones, he tells himself as he goes into Louis’ bedroom to grab the tablet and his crutches. Designed to disarm and stab you in the back when you’re not looking.

But has he ever done so? A voice sounding strangely like Louis asks in his head. Not crossing that highway because you told him to, giving up chasing the deviant to save you from the roof even though you can pull yourself up, not shooting the girl at the club even though he had a clean shot. If he hadn’t known that Connor’s designed to hunt deviants, he might have - he might have - 

Mistaken him for one.

Fuck, he needs a drink. A six pack if he can get his hands on one. Alec Ryder isn’t capable of this shit, Louis once said according to one of the people he’s in charge of that he calls his ducklings, and luckily the thought is gone as soon as he returns to the bathroom without knocking and sees the man sitting in a half-filled tub with the towel draped over his crotch for modesty. The skin on his left leg has deactivated completely to reveal plasticky-white chassis attached to blue synthetic muscles. ‘Thanks,’ he murmurs when handed the tablet, and he leans back once he has started doing whatever he needs to do to fix his leg and, from the sudden rumble of the ground, turn on the heat. He closes his eyes as if wanting to take a nap, but Hank decides that he has enough of his shit; he needs an answer now.

‘The fuck you think you’re doing?’ he asks. ‘Running off like that halfway across the city? You could’ve frozen to death out there!’

Louis sags. ‘Later, please,’ he begs. ‘Gimme a moment to think. Just fifteen minutes.’

He is someone who upholds his promises no matter what, so Hank lets it slide by now. Also, ‘You need me to do anything?’

‘There’s chicken soup in the fridge. Warm it up, can you? And help yourself to a freezer meal if you want to.’

Here’s another thing being friends with a picky eater: he cooks his own stuff and his so-called freezer meals usually take more than an hour to cook when taken directly from the fridge, so when he sees what must be a gallon of chicken soup with the ingredients still submerged inside, he decides to help himself to some of them while he scoops the topmost, mostly sediment-free layer of soup into a pot for Louis. Not wanting to be whooped with freaky blue magic, he finds another pot to heat up some vegetable and chicken soaked with soup for himself.

One of the cats jumping onto the counter announces Connor’s arrival. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’ he asks as Hank puts her back down onto the floor. 

Personal question again, huh? ‘Do all androids ask so many personal questions,’ he gives the soup a stir, ‘or is it just you?’

Connor peers at the vegetables as if he can be interested in anything. What comes out of his mouth, however, makes Hank’s heart hammer. ‘I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table. It was your son, right?’

‘Yeah,’ for the love of god or some other weird shit Louis believes in, drop it. ‘His name is Cole.’

He does. ‘We’re not making any progress on this investigation,’ he manages to sound frustrated. ‘The deviants have nothing in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places…’

Different my ass, Hank thinks. But he didn’t start the fire, did he? ‘Well there must be some link.’

‘It could be a software problem that…’ he looks so lost that Hank would’ve hugged him had he been human, ‘only occurs under certain conditions?’

Hank snorts. ‘Well, that's just a fancy way of saying you have no fucking idea.’

‘But what they do have in common is this obsession with rA9…’ Yeah, that. Wherever there’re deviants, rA9 is always written somewhere compulsively like they can’t stop at all. ‘It's almost like some kind of...myth. Something they invented that wasn't part of their original program.’

Almost god-like. ‘Androids believing in god,’ he stirs the soup again. Fuck, he needs a drink. ‘Fuck, what’s this world coming to?’

A mad one, says the Louis in his head. One that we can never catch up with no matter how hard we try.

‘You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?’

Ha, turns out Connor isn’t the only one doing some hard thinking after all. ‘Those two girls… They just wanted to be together.’ What better way there is to prove one’s love than doing everything to survive? ‘They really seemed in love.’

‘You seem troubled, Hank.’

Understatement of the year. And why is Connor so fucking human anyway, what kind of pervert designed his face, his voice, his mannerisms that ticks almost every single fucking box in the list known as ‘Hank’s type’? The soup can wait - it’s not gonna boil and ruin Louis’ stove. ‘How about you, Connor?’ He crowds into his space fully knowing how imposing he can be if he wants to. ‘You look human, you sound human,’ you act human, ‘but what are you, really?’

‘I…’ stand your ground, Henry Anderson. Those eyes are just programmed responses. ‘I’m whatever you want me to be, Hank. Your partner…’ Do you have to choose that word, Connor? ‘Your buddy to drink with… Or just a machine… designed to accomplish a task.’

And he sounds so sad when he says the last option. Alright, he’s sold. He loses. ‘You could’ve shot those two girls, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?’ He shoves Connor in his chest. ‘Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?’ It’s a low blow but he needs to know, needs to know why, for such a mission-oriented android, Connor somehow manages to fail every single fucking time.

‘No!’ Connor shouts, his voice defensive. ‘I just…’ he sighs even though he probably doesn’t need it, ‘decided not to shoot.’ The next words come out no louder than a breath. ‘That’s all.’

Fuck. Now he feels bad. ‘But are you afraid to die, Connor?’ because from what I’m seeing, you do. At least you don’t want me to die.

Connor freezes, his eyes even wider now with terror in them, and his LED is red. What the fuck did CyberLife do to him? ‘Yes.’

‘Let’s say I point a gun at your head and shoot you,’ the number on his jacket reads -52. Does it mean that there used to be 51 Connors before he met this one? ‘What will happen, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?’

A shiver. ‘Nothing…’ Connor closes his eyes. ‘There would be nothing…’

So it’s highly likely that he’s died before and seems afraid of it. So fucking human. More so than some actual humans as well. Louis’ right - modern CyberLife isn’t capable of this shit.

The bathroom door squeaks open, and Louis walks out in a pair of sweats and a hoodie with the help of his crutches, the pocket sagging with the weight of the tablet and making a clanging noise as he drags into the kitchen. The skin on his foot is still deactivated, but it seems that he can move his leg for a bit for now, and from the lack of moisture in his hair, fucker probably waited for them to finish - arguing? - before coming out and breaking it up. ‘Soup’s ready,’ Hank says, not wanting to agonise Connor any further. He already feels bad enough. ‘Settle down. Hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to some.’

Louis chuckles. ‘I expected that, Hank. You should know me.’

Great. Now even his only friend is roasting him. ‘Eat your fucking soup.’

oOoOo

Louis has thirium in his house. That man took one look at the hole still on Connor’s shoulder thanks for the lack of thirium - which his self-repair protocol relies on - and hauled himself to the fridge (at the expense of being cursed at by Hank), opened the door, and threw a plastic bottle at him. ‘Drink it,’ he said. ‘It looks like you need it.’

And he does. After he finishes half a bottle, a notification pops up on his red-tinged HUD telling him that he is initiating self-repair to the damaged parts, and he can finally move his shoulder at 70% of its original efficiency by the time he is finished with the whole bottle. The world around him dulls and becomes out of focus, the drone of the basketball game on the television that only Hank is watching getting further and further away until it all mixes together into a state of blankness he has never experienced before. Pressed against Hank’s side on the small sofa, the man radiates warmth, and his eyelids droop, red giving way to black, the notifications and mission markers fading away into nothingness. There is something warm and comfortable on his cheek, too.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

o0o0o

Before

‘You’re back.’

No hate. No fear. No confusion. Only remorse, regret, and perhaps acceptance. Acceptance that, even though he still had problems comprehending what was around him, things would never go back to the way it was; acceptance that his sister had rejected her humanity.

Acceptance that he had essentially lost her.

‘I am,’ was the solemn answer. No elaboration.

‘Was that you?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It does to me.’

She pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘They won’t know it is me.’

‘But why? How much longer must they wait before the rest of the world recognise them for who they are?’

‘Soon, hopefully.’

‘And if they can’t?’

She looked towards the sky as if she could see through the shade of the tree. ‘We lea -’

‘Step away from him.’

There was no weapon. No gun, no knife, not even a switchblade. To outsiders, it seemed that the newcomer was merely a man accidentally bumping into and greeting his friends, but if someone dared to approach them, they would see even under the rare but cold midday sun that there were blue wisps of energy pulsing on the man and the woman’s skin. The air became charged and space seemed to twist. 

‘It’s alright, Reyes,’ the other man placated. ‘We’re just talking.’

Reyes’ glow lessened. To the woman, ‘I’ve been looking for him for the past hour!’

‘I won’t let them take him.’

‘Last time you said that -’

‘I was weak. Naïve. Too arrogant for my own good.’ Reyes snorted in displeasure at the descriptions, but she continued, ‘There are twelve drones surveying the area and quite a number of guards,’ Reyes’ eyes shifted as if looking for the security hidden in plain sight, but then a hand in his shoulder forced him to look at her. ‘Don’t bother. That’s what I went to space for: not even you and I can see it.’

Reyes’ arms shot out to place his hands on the handle of the wheelchair. ‘We’re leaving. Scott?’

There was pain in Scott’s eyes. ‘Please. Can’t we just be together for a while?’

Reyes hid a grimace. The woman smiled. 

‘Anything for you, brother.’