#and you see in the outside world how companies are beginning to use ai instead of paying someone to make something more meaningful!!!

[spinef0ryou]

i fucking wish using ai to churn out a ‘fic’ on ao3 was against their tos. it’s not funny or slay or whatever, it’s fucking lazy and a slap in the face to anyone who actually puts effort into their fics

[annbourbon]

My head is getting crazier apparently lol cause I have a huge idea about how to connect Mysme AND The Ssum. Hear me out!

Ah right~ ⚠️Spoiler Alert⚠️

Timeline:

Zen: It is said during Teo route that we dated Zen sometime ago.

So Zen was our first boyfriend according to this tl. Probably will not remember us because of the Reset Theory. It does have some flaws. I admit. Because of his dreams, be might as well remember us. But what if he doesn't remember us at the very beginning? Like, what if by the time he remembers we're already in another route so he doesn't always gets the chance to be with us unless we're in his route?

In some routes like Jumin he does say to have a dream about a cage (in a call) and tried his best to warn us. Not to mention that he's always dreaming about something happening to us as MC basically the day after we enter a route. Which would obviously leads into this theory that he does remembers but only when it's too late so he instead chooses to let us be happy. TBH I feel like he's also trapped. In a different way but, he is.

Teo:

200 Days

During this route it is said that we do not know who Harry is. Right? But Jaehee, Mint Eye and even Elizabeth the 3rd are making their appearances every now and then. The cult it's say to be around but it's barely starting so that's why we see them trying to reclute some people. I guess we can say even Rika had a hard time starting. And that it's difficult to start lol sometimes we have the opportunity to make fun of it. But they tried to have Teo in their lines. And apparently some other characters.

June:

400 days?

We start strong now cause thanks to June, we meet more of Jumin's world. And we even have some pics with Rika and V. Please take into account that what I've been saying it's only without playing his route yet. I have at most one or maybe 2 weeks of game in his route. But I saw a lot of spoilers and people saying that the timeline is ruined or stuff so in a way I wanted to talk about my theory since some interactions are really interesting there, and I feel we as players have another look onto it.

It's quite obvious Jumin hasn't reach his peak years yet but there are already a lot of people calling him a promise~ nothing but the best for him. Why then he doesn't mentioned to us his brother? I have 2 theories. The most simple one is June is a difficult topic to touch considering South Korea approach to people who are different, crazy or out of norm. Like, just having a wheel chair or a baby sets you aside. Let's not talk about being always sick or mentally ill, much less neurodivergency. They don't fit and they are treated as nothing. And maybe MC is not gonna talk bad about his brother, but there was a lot of drama in every route, please take into account that even though we play the game (Mystic Messenger) there might be even more content we are unaware of. If anything, it's great to have more of this world. (I don't approve what Cheritz is doing about AI and as a company, but that is that and this is this~)

My other theory is that June died. Dark. I know, but it's not unexpected if we see his health issues.

Henri: I swear I had the whole thing planned on and I even had how many days approximately he would have but beats me. I lost the paper where I wrote my timeline. Anyways~ we now have someone who knows Jumin and doesn't like him because he doesn't know him. Anyways it is said that his route begins after June's first season. I took the time to see everything, date included and it does match! Besides, Jumin gets Elizabeth the 3rd during his route. There are some discrepancies but I'm working around them. I'll show you as soon as I can get my notes back♡

The Angel: Despite what it is said and the picture (yeah, thx spoilers TT)

I don't believe for one second that that guy is the Angel. Like, it doesn't fit at all cause we don't have interaction with anyone outside the chat. So I believe there's only one answer~

It just not that, but we also begin to get closer and closer to Mystic Messenger Events. Yes, I believe it's the same MC. We don't date the angel. But we do have a close encounter with them (as far as I know) Maybe it's here were the Bad Ending of Another Route takes place? (The one with MC reporting the incident to the police)

Harry: 271 days?

After that close encounter, we meet Harry. We know him when he's quitting his career. He's also going to MOM but I really need to understand that part. I have yet to finish his route.

And then a couple of months pass by, we have Ray kidnapping MC via playing a game lol and we go with Mysme Timeline.

I also have my suspicions with how Harry's parents were pretty much involved in laundering money through art. Keep in mind that MC is close to Harry and knows the whole thing. That puts her in danger. Harry's parents do seem the kind of people that make others disappear if you're in the way. And MC seems to have been meddling in a lot if things. Plus, V father is also art related.

Actually, art seems to be a theme in both games. Which is one of the reasons I had to come back to all that since inside the community there are a lot of things like gossips, secrets and stories. Anyway, back to V's father, and V of course~ this connects them with:

Anyways the whole thing makes me think that MC is either way younger than the characters in The Ssum. Or she did time travelled. After all the spaceship is there. And there's a couple of choices you can come with where it implies that MC is indeed a fime traveller. I had some notes where I used the calendar to make sure the timeline fit but I lost them lololol so I'll update this as soon as I can with those notes and the rest of my theory♡ it's a promise!

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Big Corps, Again

Dear gods, every time I turn around, one of these big corporate jackasses is saying or doing something trying to force "generative AI" into the public consciousness as something positive ... and failing ... and doing it anyway.

The best one so far was Chris Corps, of Amazon, who actually straight-up said that there's not really any acting in video games. Yeah, tell that to Neil Newbon - the guy who did that scene (you know the one, after a very character-defining stabfest moment?) in one take, unscripted. Yeah, tell me AI's going to do something so glorious that the director's going to go, "No, we are not trying this again, we're just getting this lightning in the proverbial bottle and running with it!" I will laugh so hard.

(See also - one of the biggest reasons that SAG-AFTRA is currently on strike.)

Then we had EA at this big investor's conference, talking about how "We already use it, we're going to use more of it, this is what it looks like in use, it's great! It's a tool for our creatives!" ...And then they had someone basically pretending to have AI generate architecture. Which ... feels more like putting a pink slip in the hands of "their creatives" instead of a tool. I know people who do that kind of work and it's a lot more than slapping together a few bits of skyscraper and coming out with something that not even London would allow in its skyline. I may have a thing about the Lloyds Building being the ugliest bit of modern architecture in the world. Not to mention this one building that's largely glass and somewhat curved and they had to stop people parking in certain places on the street outside because on sunny days, the light reflecting off that fucking building would set people's cars on fire. And yeah, I don't think even London's whole avant-garde architecture bullshit of the Gherkin and the Onion and the Shard (... well, okay, the Shard's pretty cool) would have some of the shit AI generates in its skyline. Seeing the "AI assistance" Google puts on search results if you don't take some very specific steps to not have it there (which I have on my PC but not on my phone, so...), I feel like AI would design a building like Tesla designed the cybertruck. It's like ... some games are only really as memorable as they are because of their skybox, and you want to outsource that to a machine? Really?

I cannot begin to express how tired I am of this whole AI thing. Video game companies are just the loudest motherfuckers about the whole thing, same as they seem to have been with NFTs and all that shit. The entire industry is going, "How can we get more money?" So they went to "live services" and subscription services and "recurrent user spending", and that wasn't enough. So they laid a whole bunch of people off (and are still doing so, I am aware) in the usual boom-and-bust cycle that Chris Deering was talking about awhile back when he was whingeing about how no, really, layoffs aren't about corporate greed! The cycle we're talking about is how they lay off a bunch of people to look their quarterly earnings sheets look good, and then have to hire them back to get anything done. Thing is, they always hire fewer than they need and then they get a reputation for crunch and "stress casualties" and all the rest of it. And now they seem to be pushing AI as The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread in the hopes that people will leave them alone and let them replace all those people they don't want to have to pay wages for with a plagiarism-and-climate-crisis machine.

I think they know there'll be a loss of quality. Thing is, I don't think they care. See, they don't really want us to love games. Or movies, come to that. It's what Matt Damon said awhile back - they don't want entertainment to be loved, because things that are loved, we watch (or play, or read, or listen to etc) again and again and again. They want us to consume it and then throw it away to leave our metaphorical decks clear for the next thing they want us to buy.

It's the meme, isn't it. "NO WAGE! ONLY BUY!" This is not sustainable. This kind of thing is entirely terrifying in the context of Texas, where a judge appointed by Trump ruled a labour board as "unconstitutional". We're expected to tolerate any kind of abuse - being overworked, being underpaid, being treated like shit, the whole nine yards - and we're increasingly not being paid enough to live, let alone spend the kind of money these CEOs want us to spend on what they seem to be deliberately making into homogenous forgettable crap so we'll have room in our hearts and minds (and wallets) for The Next Big Thing. It's supposed to be bread and circuses, but both are increasingly too expensive for what we're getting.

Honestly, I don't know what happens next. This will get increasingly unsustainable, because these jackasses in the money seats are convinced that unlimited exponential growth is possible and nothing but the loss of their fortunes will convince them otherwise. But before they lose theirs ... well, they won't lose theirs because a lot of it is probably in an offshore bank account somewhere ... anyway, the people who work to make them their money will suffer long, long before they get so much as inconvenienced. So Chris Deering can bite me about how hard layoffs are for managers.

All that to say that AI is just highlighting the absolute worst of corporate policy, and I hate it. But I point you to an interesting article titled "Challenging the Myths of Generative AI", which might help if you're anything like me and end up in arguments about things like, "using someone's AI voice after their death is ghoulish and gross and I don't care how much you want George Carlin to read you your homework".

[rivensoerthe]

Have you watched Barbie? Organized Stream of Consciousness

(The following is an email I sent to my old political theory professor, small details are adjusted to maintain anonymity and provide additional clarity)

Hey Professor!

Great chatting a couple of weeks ago! I’m proud to announce in my funemployment era; I am taking a gap year with intentions of pursuing a PhD in psychology. 

It’s only been a few days, but I feel like I’ve never made a more correct decision in my life. Corporate America didn’t really make sense for me long-term; I took a lot of lessons from it about how exactly the shadows on the wall work, but I was in denial about how I should relate to them. At a certain point I felt I wanted to liberate everyone in my company, and I got really good at it too. I caught myself being a leader who could orchestrate collective action in precise, powerful, and loving ways, which was daunting but also beautiful. However, where I landed is with a confidence in my abilities which I’ve never felt before, and a vision of myself as a change maker that makes a lot more sense as a voice in academia (one that is accessible to those outside of it as well).

That update aside, did you see the Barbie movie/have you been paying attention to the discourse around it? It’s another in a series of recent content that are basically reinterpretations of The Matrix (thinking of Everything Everywhere All At Once as well as Wandavision) which in turn strike me as reinterpretations of Plato’s Cave.

Perhaps it may sound overly ambitious to some, but being underly ambitious feels boring: I think we’re on the verge of a mass cultural awakening. The energy around us has been different. AI has been causing existential crises left and right (looking at writers’ strikes and the general ways these companies are licking their lips with the intention of further “cutting costs” without care for their fellow humans). People are contemplating the smallness of this life, getting perspective for how cultural constraints we hold as central to our worldview are actually shadows on the wall. They’re imagining how life can be different, and in turn they’ll soon start creating it.

And that’s distressing in a lot of cases, dealing with what we’ve all repressed head on. But I feel like this can be a loving revolution. I know that sounds full hippy but like, I think if people begin to enter public discourse as individuals who talk like “real” people (this is shade at the politicians, the academics, etc) and do that from a place of love instead of a place of fear (and that’s shade at Donald Trump, Elon Musk, etc) the world will open up in profound ways.

I think people struggle with this because they feel it’s inauthentic, and that’s where we get into philosophy of the self. Namely, what kind of foolish pride tells us that making ourselves accessible waters down our identity? I think of entering that philosophy chat community where, no shade at them, I was making better points than a lot of them, but because I didn’t speak their language with the precision they wanted me to they treated me like I was dumb. And it’s funny, some of them did try to argue with me, some were open to my ideas, but generally speaking, among these individuals seeking enlightenment I was branded a pariah by certain members of the community because my approach to communication was unorthodox and I used chat gpt as a means of helping me think critically and speedily (and I know it’s very imperfect, but when used correctly and critically it’s an incredible philosophical calculator).

And I was still nice to them, because I’m bored of contributing to cycles of mutual disdain, and I’ve found that when I’m unapologetically weird and unapologetically nice at the same time I awaken a version of individuals that they thought they left behind at the playground in elementary school. 

I say all of that to say, my vision of the future, which I believe is coming and which I’m eager to take part of, is a movement of radical forgiveness, kindness, and an appreciation for the intrinsic wisdom in others that we usually overlook because we don’t relate to them. I think some central frontiers for this movement will be dramatic prison reform, the decentralization of college education as the only means of achieving “success” in a lot of American minds, and maybe even the 2024 Democratic primary (I think Marianne Williamson is playing on something interesting and has generational tides in her favor. Plus Joe Biden is kinda stubborn and uninspiring, I think he’s about to RBG the Democratic establishment).

i could be wrong, I often am! I hope I’m not too far off though. I’ll do what I can to facilitate that world without overextending myself as well :)

Thanks for your time!

Your Student,

Rivenso

[seoloquent]

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

************************************************************************

Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

[diavolodigitale]

L’appel Du Vide: 00 Despicable Him

It took me a whole goddamn year to finally win the fight I fought against myself and start posting this story. I have 7 complete chapters written already but now cannot seem to find the strength to continue, so I was hoping releasing it into the world would give me a nice boost. Anyway, my friends enjoyed the story so if in reality it turns out to be bad, it’s obviously their fault, not mine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rhys is the CEO of Atlas and Jack's AI is back, surprise, surprise! Now Rhys is dismayed, Jack doesn't care much, and the events of Borderlands 3 are just beginning to unravel. Is there any way to fix the plot of this game? Would it be any better if Rhys had to cooperate with Jack this whole time? Well, this is your chance to find out!

Spoiler: yes, dammit, it would. Everything's better with a bit of Handsome Jack in it.

Genres: Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Alternate Canon, POV Third Person, Humor, Drama, Plot-driven (kind of? well, it has plot)

Pairing: Handsome Jack’s AI/Rhys (this is only the 1st chapter so don’t expect much yet)

Characters: Handsome Jack’s AI, Rhys

Rating: M for Mature but not in this chapter lol

Size: around 2500 words (chapter 1/11)

Rhys’s office was great. He liked to sit in his big executive’s chair and dreamily look outside instead of doing the paper work. The view was also great. Well, kind of.

What did not seem so great, however, was the war he had been recently dragged into by the Maliwan corporation. He didn’t like being involuntarily involved into global affairs, especially those that had something to do with fusions or takeovers. The situation his company was in was bothering him at the moment, so he took a deep thoughtful breath and continued staring into the window.

“Hey, kiddo,” said the voice of somebody who definitely could not be in Rhys’s office neither at this given moment nor at any other time. Rhys was almost sure in his sanity so he proceeded to ignore the not-uttered words, although he, for some unknown reason, became visibly shaken.

“He-e-ey,” said the voice with those familiar little notes of annoyance that would let the hearer know that the person speaking clearly didn’t like being ignored.

A half-transparent blue hand waved in front of Rhys’s face, and he totally lost it.

Still somehow managing to remain seated in his chair, Rhys jerked back and rolled right through the blue figure formerly standing behind him.

“Wha…” muttered Rhys, barely able to speak at all, “Jack? What are you… I mean, how… I mean, is that really you?”

“Calm down, Rhysie,” said Jack with the same smug expression on his face – perhaps, the only thing that was unchangeable apart from his self-confidence, principles, self-esteem, disrespect for the others, sly nature, and, well, many, many other things really. “I get it, you’re happy to see me, but gosh, have some self-respect!”

Rhys was still confused, so after a few seconds of silence Jack felt the need to add, “Of course, it’s me”.

“But I thought you’re…”

“Dead? Gone? Dead and gone?” Jack clicked his tongue three times. “I thought, you knew me better, Rhysie. I thought, you’d welcome me with your arms wide open. Are you not happy to see me?”

“I am,” Rhys started nodding zealously and clenched his fists tight, hoping that Jack wouldn’t notice he was shaken. “But I don’t understand. What happened…”

“What happened was a mistake. I was gone for a while, but now I’m here to stay.” Jack leaned towards Rhys’s face and smiled. It was in no way an amiable smile. His glowing eyes reminded those of a vulture watching his prey. He already started to smell fear in the air.

“And where exactly is here?” asked Rhys with the last glimmer of hope fading from his voice. More than anything now he wished for the story not to repeat itself, but it was not like he had a choice or something.

Jack only tapped on Rhys’s temple with his index finger and leaned back. Rhys didn’t feel the touch but the gesture itself made him uncomfortable. He knew what it meant, unfortunately.

Jack jumped onto the table of the CEO of Atlas and crossed his legs and arms, waiting.

Rhys swallowed loudly. This was not great at all. He was sure his head was clear from this phantom and there was nothing to worry about. He was sure he would never again be convinced to go against his nature and pursue the world domination. Or any kind of domination. He was sure, but whenever it came to Jack, he was a defeatist.

“This can’t be true. I don’t believe you came back. I must’ve hit my head or I’m just seeing things…” Rhys’s voice quavered in disbelief when he spoke.

“Now-now, honey, no need to worry so much. You know I don’t like it when you wince, it makes you look older. Seeing me here must make you feel sorry for what you’ve done, but you should know that I don’t hold any grudge. Actually, I’m kida proud of you, you know. It only proves I was right all along,” said Jack roguishly. His manner of speech made his words sound benign, as if he was forgiving sins during the confession. Rhys was still not buying it.

“I did what I had to, what you made me do! If anything, it was YOUR fault, YOU betrayed me, so don’t you try making ME responsible for everything! I don’t know what kind of mind game this is, but I know you can’t be here.”

As Jack opened his mouth to yet again say something pricky, Rhys, still sitting in his chair and tightly gripping its arms, yelled at top of his lungs, “Begone! Begone, foul apparition!”.

The apparition sat on the table, sandbagged and with a dropped jaw, for a few moments and then uttered “Wow. Just wow. I’ve always known you’re weird, but this is just… wow. Are you on drugs or something? I’m not judging, you just seem really… deranged? I wanna say deranged, but I’m not sure it’s the right word.”

Rhys snuffled resentfully and looked at Jack with a brooding expression on his face. “You won’t go?” he asked, not really hoping anymore.

“Nope, kiddo. Everything’s gonna be just like the good old times – me as a hero and you as a… as a… I dunno, a less attractive sidekick?” Rhys quietly sighed, holding his head in his hands. “We’re gonna hang out, kill bandits, save the world, and I will always, always be at your side. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I killed you, Jack. I destroyed you. I ripped you out of my body, tore you apart and threw you away from my memory. Nothing’s gonna be the same anymore, you know that.”

“No, Rhys, I was killed by some OTHER goddamn crappy bags of… ugh, I’m not even gonna bother with that. You and me just had a misunderstanding. Often happens between two forceful promising personalities, like between me and the previous Hyperion CEO. Oh, wait, no,”–Jack scratched his head and furrowed his eyebrows–“no, I killed him, that’s a bad example. Anyway, you know what I mean.”

“I smashed my fucking arm to get rid of you! You,”–Rhys pointed his cybernetic finger at Jack–“are the only one who is insane here if you think that’s nothing. We both know what we did, Jack. Whatever you want, I’m not helping you. The last time I tried, you took control of me and tried to end my life.”

Jack’s expression turned from stolid to menacing as fast as gray clouds cover the sun and it starts raining in summer. He wanted to be good, he really believed that he did.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” he hissed at Rhys. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, I’m dependent on you, you little whiny coward, so do me a favor – be a good boy and listen to what daddy has to say. You kept your eye implant, didn’t you? Don’t even try arguing with me, I know you did. It was your decision to leave it be, so it’s you who brought me here. I’m grateful for that and I promise not to be nasty. No taking over bodies and no homicidal tendencies. Well, at least when it comes to you, pumpkin.”

“…Okay,” fumbled Rhys. Even though he didn’t believe this was really the case, he knew disputing with Jack never solved anything anyway. “Although… I didn’t really use the chip afterwards. I don’t know how you’ve found out I had kept it, but I surely wasn’t that stupid so as to put it back into my head after what you had done. I really want to know how you’ve managed to–”

“We all have our secrets, Rhysie. But enough about me, let’s talk about you.” Jack gave Rhys a wink. “How’ve ya been? Must admit, I fell out of the loop and now need an update,” he said petulantly. Now he was idly looking around as if he had lost all interest in what was happening.

Rhys decided to let go of his worries for now. If he couldn’t make Jack talk, his only option was to gain his trust once again and find out how he survived. Or if he did at all. Just be composed, not the worst scenario you’ve ever been in, he said to himself.

“Um, actually, I’m great. This is my office and… We’re doing fantastically if you disregard the fact that we’re at war with Maliwan and currently I am occupied with this new–”

“Yeah-yeah, okay, what was there about a war? I don’t remember Maliwan scum being at least somehow dangerous. How did you even manage to mess this up?”

Rhys stood up from his huge chair, arms akimbo, eyes disdainfully narrowed, and went on with his story, affronted and even a little peevish.

“As I was saying, I’m working on a new plan right now. At this point I’m pretty fed up with Katagawa, this new CEO of Maliwan,”–definitely peevish right now–“Oh, in fact, I just hate him so much!”–now even irate–“The day he murdered all his siblings, he just mobilized his fleet and went straight to my planet! Who in the right mind does that? Could’ve sent a message at least. Anyway,”–Rhys hid his hands into his pockets and sunk back into his chair, having lost all his righteous anger–“he wants our corporations to merge, to fuse, as he says, to become one.” The irritation on Jack’s face was becoming more distinct with every word Rhys said. “He wants me to sign the deal and share my developments with him, can you believe it? That greedy bastard!”

“Proposals like that don’t just come out of nowhere. Seems like he’s been watching you. This Katagawa guy, what does he offer you in return? Money, contacts, tech?”

“Himself, I guess,” said Rhys without any second thought.

“What?” asked Jack contemptuously. He was already close to seeing red. Rhys forgot how it worked with him.

“He said we would become partners, but I think it’s all lies to make it seem pretty. I suspect he will simply take control of Atlas and our new shiny guns, and all my work will be wasted.”

“I see, no one can trick our Rhysie,” said Jack, grinning. “Thank god, at least some good news.”

“That’s right!” said Rhys, perhaps, more enthusiastically than he should have. “No one,” he added more quietly. Except for you, you snake, muttered the inner voice inside his head.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something this whole time. Funny how I really haven’t been here for long, but you know. May I?”

Jack’s incisive manner of speech was absent, so Rhys took his guard down for a moment, getting the feeling that this conversation was like one of those they used to have before – unbraced and at times even innocuous.  

“I know what’s on your mind, Jack,” he said, heartfelt and certain.

“You do?” Jack undoubtfully seemed surprised at his interlocutor’s insight.

“Yes. I’ve noticed how you look at me and I know exactly what you want to ask.” Rhys made himself more comfortable in the chair, crossed his legs and sat straight, in a more business-like manner. “This,”–he made a vague hand gesture around the area of his mouth–“is a siege mustache. Shh, let me finish, you can’t say anything I haven’t heard about it before. My troops love it, and as a good commander, I do what I can to boost morale on the battlefield. Of course, I don’t go out there, but they are happy enough when they see my hologram. A-a-and, now you can talk. I guess. If you want to. By the way, I don’t care if you hate it, it’s my face so–”

“You know what? I love it. Love it. Never thought I would say that, but I am saying it right now, so here you are. The second rule of a successful boss – do what the fuck you wanna do with your face. The first one is murder the previous boss, of course.”

“Really?” gingerly asked Rhys, who, in reality, had never heard anything good about his poor moustache.

“Really. But I must upset you, Rhysie. This is not what was bothering me. You see, there’s this other little thing, pretty close in its significance to your moustache.”

“Oh,” uttered Rhys nonchalantly, “what is it?”

“Hyperion. What’s with it? What’s with MY Hyperion, Rhysie?”

At the sound of that very word Rhys hunched in his chair and felt as if he was reducing in size under Jack’s cold gaze.

“After what had happened… the Helios was destroyed and everything collapsed and…”

Rhys sat silent, not able to go on, and this was the last thing he should’ve done. Jack was not in the mood for such a behavior.

“Look me square in my fucking translucent eyes, Rhys, and tell me – what is with my Hyperion?” yelled Jack.

He still sat on the table quite far from Rhys, but it seemed like the room suddenly shrunk and he was right in front of him. Jack was a ghost, a phantom, not able to do anything, not able to inflict any damage or even touch him, but Rhys sensed the danger. No matter in what form, Handsome Jack was still Handsome Jack.

“I don’t know. I guess, somebody took control of it after I left. The weapons are still being manufactured, but I didn’t bother to find out who was the next in line after Helios was… after I destroyed Helios.”

Rhys exhaled loudly and averted his eyes from Jack. Oh, yes, making Jack angry is much easier than making him proud, how could I forget, he thought.

“I see. I didn’t doubt for a second you would do that to infuriate me. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’d rather be disappointed. But you know what? It doesn’t matter now. Now we’re bonding,” Jack sucked the air through his teeth, “now we’re rebuilding what was destroyed like a family we are. Isn’t that great? Look at us, two best buddies exchanging the latest news.”

“And you promised not to be nasty this time...?” Rhys made a feeble attempt to save himself and remind Jack about the terms under which he was allowed to accompany him.

“Yes, Rhysie, and you know damn well I keep my promises.”

And he did. But only when he promised to kill somebody.

[kiapet2]

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 13: A Minor Case of Major Brain Damage

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: In which Thomas takes a trip through the past.

Chapter Warnings: Unethical Experimentation, Non-Consenting Test Subjects, Semi-Suicidal Ideation

Falling.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been falling, but it feels like far longer than a person should be able to fall, and when you look down you still can’t see the bottom. The elevator shaft is just small enough that you could probably brush your fingers on either side if you stretched your arms out, but unlike last time no plastic tubing appears to whisk you off to somewhere else Occasionally you pass an open floor, but they whizz by too quickly for you to see much of anything.

Just like your previous fall down this shaft, below you is obscured in darkness, the true depth of the shaft a mystery. You guess you’ll finally get to see what’s at the bottom, one way or another.

You close your eyes and steady your breathing for what could be seconds or minutes, trying not to think about what’s coming. Then there’s a jolt accompanied by a massive crash, and your world tilts and goes black.

Groaning, you blink your eyes open as the world gradually fades into focus. Above you, a vertical tunnel stretches into infinity, broken boards hanging off the edges from where you apparently broke through. The metal elevator shaft is not embedded in a wall or ceiling as you would expect but rather hanging down into open air; the actual ceiling of this room is so far above you, you can’t even see it. Instead, the distance above you looks hazy, almost like you’re outside on a cloudy day.

You sit up, checking yourself over and finding no visible wounds, though your body feels like one massive bruise. The Portal Gun is lying next to you and you pick it up, turning it over in your hands and finding no indication that it’s broken.

So, the good news is you’ve officially survived the fall intact. The bad news is, you’re trapped in the bowels of a facility that’s about to self-destruct, and by the look of this elevator shaft you’re not likely to find transportation back up.

The area surrounding you couldn’t be more different from the rest of the Aperture Science facility if it tried. Where the test chambers were sleek and sophisticated, this looks almost like a junkyard, all twisted metal and crumbled stone. If this place is even part of the actual facility, it hasn’t been used for a long time.

You couldn’t have picked a better place to really make you realize how truly alone you now are.

You’ve felt alone before. It can be hard to remember, now that you’ve become used to one of not many friends peering over your shoulder, giving advice and making jokes at your- or each others’- expense, but when you first woke up here it was to large, empty chambers with no company other than a distant Voice. You remember how relieved you were when you first met Logan, how worried you were every time he or the others left, terrified that this time they wouldn’t come back.

And yet, during all that time you never were as alone as you thought you were. Janus was watching you the whole time, giving his sarcastic two cents even as he tried to pretend to be distant and robotic, and the others never even considered abandoning you like you feared.

Now, you’re much too far away for Janus to see you, even if he was still in a position to be able to do so. Not that he would want anything more to do with you anyways, not after you betrayed the trust he so rarely gives in the first place. And as for the others, well. They were always going to side with Patton over you, weren’t they?

God, Patton. It’s hard to believe your optimistic, friendly companion could have become the nightmarish entity that just tried to take your freedom once again. You should have had him taken out of there at the first sign of trouble, should have done something to help him instead of just watching as your friend was subsumed by whatever malignant consciousness exists in this place. But you didn’t do anything when he needed you most, and now it’s too late. Too late for him, and too late for you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to lie back down, try to sleep and forget until the facility blows up and comes crashing down on top of you. Or, failing that, until you die of hypothermia or thirst. Why bother trying to find your way out of here, when all your previous attempts only hastened your inevitable demise? Can’t you just rest, for once in your short post-cryosleep life?

But even as you consider the thought, something in you rejects it, some deep survival instinct that refuses to let you just lay down and die. You owe it to the others, owe it to Patton, to see this through, even if the inevitable end is your death.

Sighing, you tentatively push yourself to your feet as your legs groan in protest and, not sure what else to do, begin picking your way through it, looking for a way out, or at least forward.

You make your way through the rubble, navigating your way around walls, fences and pits using carefully placed portals. The ground slopes gradually down, going deeper and deeper into the bowels of the facility, and as you continue to descend you start to pass signs, saying ominous things like Keep Out and Do Not Enter.

You probably should be at least a little concerned about that, but you can’t muster up the energy to really care. Your feet stamp out a regular rhythm on the ground, right-left-right-left, and you lose yourself in the monotony of walking as you move further downward. Eventually, you come to a metal door, similarly marked with warning stickers, and with some carefully placed portals through broken windows are able to move past it, into what's hidden behind.

Walking through the final door, you find yourself entering what appears to be some kind of waiting room, faded and decayed with age. As you watch, a large metal piece falls off a large iron sign hanging above the room, a piece you belatedly realize is the shape of the Aperture Science logo.

A voice suddenly sounds from the speakers, making you jump.

Welcome, gentlemen, to Aperture Science. Astronauts, war heroes, Olympians- you’re here because we want the best, and you are it. So: Who is ready to make some science?

The voice chuckles, and you glance around yourself, confused. It doesn’t sound like anyone you've spoken with during the time you've been awake, and has a different quality to it than the announcements you’re used to hearing- tinny and faded, like an old-timey radio announcer, but despite all that it still twinges a recognition deep within you, like this is someone you used to know.

Now, you already met one another on the limo ride over, so let me introduce myself. I’m Cave Johnson. I own the place.

There’s a thousand tests performed every day here in our enrichment spheres. I can’t personally oversee every one of them, so these pre-recorded messages’ll cover any questions you might have, and respond to any incidents that may occur in the course of your science adventure. Those of you helping us test the repulsion gel today, just follow the blue line on the floor. Those of you who brought in your pets for behavior therapy, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that they definitely won’t be chewing your shoes anymore. The bad news is it’s because they don’t really have teeth. Or mouths. Or head. Very well behaved, though! Anyways, so long for now, and happy testing!

You wait for a few more moments, but the recording- if it is actually that, and not another AI trying to trick you- seems to have stopped.

You look around again at the old waiting room surrounding you- a piece of history, Aperture Science when it was run by humans and their recorded announcements rather than the AIs who populate otherwise abandoned test chambers. You guess it makes sense that there must have been humans in this place once- the abandoned offices are proof enough of that, and Logan mentioned that he and the others were made by and from humans.

Your heart twinges, and you shove down thoughts of the others. You're on your own now, might as well make the best of it and push forwards.

The doors leading forward are high in the walls and the catwalks used to reach them have fallen away with age, but you’re able to finagle your way to them anyways by riding an elevator in the center of the room upwards and then using the momentum from jumping down the shaft to fling yourself over. It’s so weird to think that you used to be afraid of a simple one-story fall.

The old recording whirrs back to life as you enter the next chamber. Welcome to our next test on the Repulsion Gel, Cave Johnson’s voice says. Now, the boys over at Medical told me we should be giving testers regular drink breaks and not carrying out testing for more than four hours at a time. Well I think I speak for all you fine fellas when I say we’re not going to let a buncha namby-pamby whitecoat bigwigs get in the way of our science! If you pass out, we’ll send a retrieval bot to pick you up and carry you off to the nursery with the other babies. Now let’s get going!

In front of you is a test chamber. It’s older, with walls made out of metal and concrete rather than the sleek, moveable tiles that made the test chambers you’re familiar with, but still recognizable.

You start laughing, hard enough that you need to sit down. Even down here, even with no one else around, you’re still testing. Playing the good little lab rat, solving puzzles while you wait for the scientist to pull the plug. That’s all you’ve ever done here, isn’t it?

You take some big, whooping breaths, trying to calm yourself. You’re not sure how you know to do it, but you start counting breaths: in for four counts, hold for seven, out for eight. It takes a bit of time, but eventually you are able to get yourself to calm down, your aching abdomen the only sign that you lost control of your emotions.

Looking at the test chamber in front of you again, you notice that it’s astonishingly easy- jumping and then bouncing off the blue gel to get to the other side of a gap. You breathe deep again, closing your eyes and steeling yourself. You’ve done test chambers where you flung yourself across giant rooms filled with toxic sludge while turrets shot at you in the air; you can handle a few antique ones down here. Then you open your eyes and take a running jump.

Welcome to the Enrichment Center, Cave Johnson’s tired voice says. As you’ve made your way through the abandoned offices and test chambers that make up this old place, you’ve listened to his recordings become less enthusiastic, more run down, listened to him start talking about things like stolen inventions and bankruptcy and being forced to recruit new testers from the streets for practical pocket change. But you’ve never heard him sound quite like this- so raspy and worn he almost seems half-dead.

Since making test participation mandatory for all employees, the quality of our test subjects has risen dramatically. Employee retention, however, has not. He coughs, a harsh, rattling sound that sounds like it must tear at his throat. As a result, you may have heard we're gonna phase out human testing. There's still a few things left to wrap up, though. First up, conversion gel.

The bean counters told me we literally could not afford to buy seven dollars worth of moon rocks, much less seventy million. Bought 'em anyway. Ground 'em up, mixed ‘em into a gel. And guess what? Ground up moon rocks are pure poison- I am deathly ill. Great portal conductors, though. So now we're gonna see if jumping in and out of these new portals can somehow leech the lunar poison out of a man's bloodstream. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. He coughs again, harder. Let's all stay positive and do some science.

The recording clicks off, and you wince. You don’t really like Cave Johnson- he sounds like a bit of a jerk, honestly, and you can’t help but feel he’s at least indirectly responsible for the situation you’re in now- but hearing him like that, sad, hopeless, and slowly dying, is just painful. You find yourself wishing he did manage to get better, though you know that he’s likely long dead by now either way.

Focusing again on the task at hand, you make your way through the abandoned office and out a back door, coming out in old maintenance hallways, all smooth concrete walls striped with metal pipes. You come to a large, round vertical shaft, and while the walls themselves won’t hold portals, there’s enough scaffolding and smooth platforms to let you pick your way up with strategically-placed portals and the careful use of flinging.

Cave Johnson’s voice again fills the shaft when you’re about halfway up. He seems to be… ranting about lemons? And lemon-related weapons that burn people’s houses down? It’s kind of hard to follow when you’re so focused on the task at hand, though you almost find yourself wishing Remus was around- you’re pretty sure he’d get a kick out of it. Remus would enjoy a lot of the stuff down here, actually. The thought is slightly horrifying.

Johnson has collected himself by the time you reach the top, and this time you stop to listen.

The point is: If we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's intelligence and personality on one? So I have the engineers figuring that out now.

Brain Mapping. Artificial Intelligence. We should have been working on it thirty years ago.

The recording ends. You stand there for a bit, feeling like you’ve been hit over the head with a metal pipe. Artificial Intelligence. He’s talking about creating the program that made the others. Talking about using the program to download his own personality into an AI. Logan had mentioned that he and the others were developed from a human man’s personality, but you hadn’t ever stopped to think about what exactly that meant- that they are all aspects of someone who was a living, breathing person. Someone who was the head of this facility, no less.

Could you see the others in him? Remus, definitely, with his love of weird and dangerous science. Roman, maybe, in how dramatic Johnson seemed to have been, and Janus with his disregard for people he saw as beneath his notice. Logan and Patton are harder sells; Cave Johnson didn’t seem all that intelligent- rather anti-intellectual, actually- and he certainly wasn’t empathetic or kind. And he definitely wasn’t careful or restrained, either, so Virgil is right out. Maybe extracting certain parts of his brain exaggerated those aspects of his personality?

But then, if Cave Johnson’s goal was to be immortal, why split his personality into component parts in the first place? Why not just download his personality wholesale? Or did that turn out to be impossible?

By now the mystery has dug its claws into you, and you find yourself itching for more answers, more context on how exactly this came about. It’s a nice distraction, at least, from your imminent demise and the fact that none of the people you’re learning about actually want anything to do with you anymore.

And yeah, not thinking about that right now. You shake your head as if it could dispel the painful thoughts, and keep moving.

This time, when you find another stretch of abandoned offices you don’t immediately head back behind them, but instead move within the halls of the facility, using portals to traverse places that are locked or where the floor has fallen in. You move on instinct, maneuvering these hallways like you’ve done it a thousand times. You don’t consciously choose your destination, but aren’t terribly surprised when your steps take you up to an office door, the words CAVE JOHNSON, CEO engraved on a golden plaque at eye level.

The office is locked, so you smash the small office window, then shoot a portal through it to the opposite wall. The office is large but stripped almost bare, with an old computer desk and several file shelves all that remain. There are rectangles on the walls and floor, places where fancy furniture and paintings presumably used to be, and everything is covered with such a thick layer of dust you’re a little afraid if you disturb anything too much you’ll start coughing and not stop.

You move over to the computer, an old, boxy model, and start it up. Miraculously, it still works, and you’re soon greeted with an old DOS screen, black with white lettering asking you to input commands. You sift through Cave Johnson’s file cabinets, sifting through a pile of floppy disks before pulling one out with a victorious cry.

You slip the disk labeled PRE-RECORDED MESSAGES into the computer, then type in the appropriate command and start going through files.

Not having the time or patience to go through every single audio file, you scroll down to the last one and open it, intending to start from the latest created files and go back. You open it and the sound of an old audio recording once again fills the room.

Hello, sir, you wanted to see me?

Your head shoots up. That voice feels intensely familiar, in a way that tickles the back of your mind, but you can’t quite-

Thomas, my boy!

Your breath catches in your throat.

Come in, come in. Take a seat, make yourself at home. Have some tea, if you want.

No thank you, the second voice- YOUR voice- says, I’m more of a coffee person.

Probably a good idea, the last batch was exposed to radiation from Lab C and well, long story short we’re still not certain if it’ll give you bowel cancer. But enough about the unimportant things! I’ve been looking over your files, and I must say I’m impressed- you seem to be quite the renaissance man! A degree in chemical engineering, a relatively successful career in the theatrical arts, a damn near spotless record in our part-time development team, and it looks like you’ve been making quite a stir in the media department’s new short video program. What was it called, Stem? Ivy? No no, don’t tell me, I’ll get it eventually. I doubt that sort of thing will ever catch on anyways. But the point is it shows initiative, which is something I like to see in my employees!

Thank you, sir?

You are quite welcome, you’ve earned it! Now the folks in our tech department have been telling me they want someone with a well-rounded mind for the initial AI development tests, and I think you fit the bill. And you’re not a vital employee, which is good because we’re still not quite sure what being copied into a computer does to your brain. Best case scenario, you wake up from cryosleep in a few weeks with one heck of a headache, worst case scenario is brain death. But hey, chances are at least part of you will get to be immortal, so I’d say that’s a gamble worth taking!

Whoa whoa whoa, hold up. Cryosleep? Brain death?! I didn’t sign up for anything like that. I’m not even a tester!

Now, now, no one’s ever won at life by playing it safe. The AI initiative is our most high profile development right now, being selected to test it is quite the honor! And testing is mandatory for all staff as of last week, so don’t worry about being in the wrong department.

I- It’s not that I’m not honored or anything. But I really just want to go back to my desk. I’m sure you can find someone else, right? Surely someone is better suited to this than me.

I appreciate your humility, Sport, but I’m afraid it wasn’t a request. You’ll thank us eventually. Assuming that you, you know, wake up. Good luck!

Wait, wait no, let go of me! your voice screams, desperate and terrified. Please, please I don’t want this, I don’t want this, WAIT-

The recording fizzles out mid-scream. After a moment, it whirrs back to life.

Right, so you boys should probably edit some of that out in post, Cave Johnson's tired voice says. Every experiment needs initial trials, right? Like a taste tester, but for your brain. Anyways, you've got your subject, so get to work, alright? We- he breaks off into a coughing fit- we don't have much time left. Let me know when things are ready for me. Until then, this is Cave Johnson, signing out.

There’s a few more seconds of white noise, and then a click as the recording comes to a stop, leaving you in silence once more.

Your legs give out from under you and you sit down, hard. Your mind is whirling, the echoes of your own screams still sounding in your head.

How could they do that? How could they just do that? Take you away from everything you’ve ever known, without even leaving you memories of what you’d lost, and for what? So a CEO could get his immortality?

The thought that you had a life before this, that you had a family before this, had occurred to you before- how could it not?- but it always felt distant, unreal, like a dream. But it wasn’t. You had a degree, a career, a life outside of this place. What did the people from that life think when you disappeared? Did Aperture Science tell them you’d died, or just let them wonder what happened to you? Are they still out there, missing you?

You shake your head, forcibly reeling your thoughts in. You’re going to destroy yourself if you keep going like this. You need to pull yourself together.

And once your thoughts stop reeling quite so much, a new thought occurs to you. Johnson said that you were being taken for the AI program- that they were going to copy you into a machine. The Cores said they were made from a human man, and you assumed based on the previous recordings that human man had been Cave Johnson. And maybe they were- Johnson told you they were using you for preliminary testing. Wouldn’t they have moved on to him once they were done with you?

And yet, all sorts of little things are adding up in your brain, things you had noticed but never bothered to linger on- never thought to connect to each other. Singing and performing a theater song with Roman, your voices perfectly in sync. Trading silly puns with Patton. The way your heart would always leap into your throat at the exact time Virgil started giving you trouble. And most painfully, Janus’s parting words: you may act the part of an innocent little lamb, but deep down you’re every bit as devious and cutthroat as I am.

Could the others… be made from you?

Your heart pounds in your chest. You need to find out more. You need to know if this is real, or just wishful thinking. You fish through Johnson’s files, half-frantic, but can’t find anything on the subject.

Then, finally, you find in the paper files a report from the development Project JANUS. It’s short, with no information you didn’t already know, but it does include a scientist’s name and office number in the signature.

A few minutes of searching later, you’re in the scientist’s room, tearing apart their files, until you finally find a file folder labeled TOP SECRET. You flip open to the first page, heart pounding.

The top of the page reads, “Project JANUS”. It’s a diagram of a human brain, with specific sections highlighted, though you don’t know enough about the human brain to figure out their relevance. What really draws your eye, however, is what is written below the diagram.

Subject Name: Thomas Sanders.

The name rings like a bell in your head, something deep inside saying, me. Thomas Sanders. Your name is Thomas Sanders.

Your name is Thomas Sanders, and Janus was created from you.

Hastily, you flip through the next few pages of data charts and diagrams, until you come to the next blueprint, then the next, then the next, growing in speed and excitement as you go.

Project PATHOS, Subject Name: Thomas Sanders. Project LOGOS, Subject Name: Thomas Sanders. Project REMUS, Project ROMULUS, Project VIRGILIUS. Subject Name Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders.

You sit down heavily in the office chair, putting your hands to your face. They’re you. All of them. God, you should have known. You think part of you did know, all along.

Part of you. That’s what they really are, isn’t it? Not you, not exactly, but parts of you. Created from different segments of your brain, different aspects of your personality.

The concept bounces around in your brain, the idea of something meaningful, some other revelation, hovering at the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Something about being parts, aspects of a person’s personality.

Aspects of a person, but not the whole. Self-preservation without the understanding that sometimes other people matter, too. Morality without the practicality to back it up. Creativity without the necessary restraints.

Oh god, you’ve been going about this all wrong. No wonder your plans didn’t work, the very premise was flawed. And wow, that was such a Logan thought, how did you not realize the connection sooner?

You need to get back to the others, right now.

After gathering the file and safely securing it in the folds of your jumpsuit, you take a quick trip back to Cave Johnson’s office with one intention in mind: his PA system. You don’t know if the announcement systems from down here will reach to where the others are, but you have to try. You press the button, ignoring the anxiety churning in your stomach, and speak.

“Hey, everyone. It’s Thomas. I know that some of you are confused and don’t know who you should be siding with right now. I know that for some of you, I have a lot to apologize for. All I ask, is if you ever trusted me at all, to come meet me at the place you introduced me to Remus. Because I have a lot I need to say to you guys, and because I’ve figured it out.”

You take a deep breath, and focus on projecting as much certainty with your voice as you can.

“I know how we can fix this. For good.”

[kisskissbanggang]

Au Pair

[WayV Mystery Member 👀 x Female Reader -- 6.1K Words/20Min. Read -- Fluffy Plot, Fluffy Smut -- NSFW, Living Abroad, Will-They-Won’t-They, Horrible Bosses, Impreg Kink, Tense Situations]

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When you first entered college, you never quite predicted you would end up on the other side of the world during your senior year, but here you were on a balmy summer day, grabbing your bags out of your ride from the airport. Your Uber had taken you down a driveway long enough to make you think you were miles away from the city, and now you were faced with the most laughably luxurious home you'd ever seen in person.

From what you understood, your interview with the Copelands had gone well for two big reasons: 1) they appreciated all the credentials and materials you'd masterfully prepared, and 2) you were American, which apparently reminded them of home. They were almost cheating the whole concept of having an au pair, because you certainly weren't going to be exchanging much culture in a home like theirs, aside from maybe class culture. They certainly had enough money to do whatever they wanted, which was baffling considering they could've just hired a professional nanny for their son rather than an au pair for the year.

Melissa Copeland stood at the threshold of this near-palace, angular and terrifying in her smart suit. You could practically feel a cool breeze emanating from her as you approached. She finally looked up from her phone, her purse hooked on the crook of her arm like she was about to leave.

"You're finally here. I was about to leave."

You quickly dropped your bags to offer a handshake. A firm, friendly, American handshake. She may as well have been handing off her keys to the valet for how much she even touched your extended hand.

"Mrs. Copeland, I'm so sor--"

"Melissa."

"Er, Melissa, I'm so sorry, my flight was delayed."

"I can see that. I'll make time for a quick tour. Come inside." She gestured to her personal assistant -- a mouse of a girl -- to notice your bags on the ground. She wordlessly lunged forward and grabbed them, then sprinted inside the house with them as gracefully as possible. You followed Melissa into the foyer.

"As I said, I'll make this quick," your new boss droned, "this is the foyer. You'll obviously be staying in the guest room closest to Carson's, which is up the grand staircase, at the end of the west hallway, ergo, yours is the second to last room down said hallway. The Master Suite is at the end of the east hallway. The kitchen is in the back, pool is outside, you can take one of the cars or request a driver from Brent's company if you need a ride anywhere. Not sure when Brent will be home; his business trip has been extended. Carson is at dance lessons right now, and will be back at 3 o'clock. If you need anything else explained, you can ask our head of household, Ai. She's somewhere doing something; she shouldn't be hard to find."

You hadn't left the room. You hadn't walked around the room. Really, Melissa had hardly moved at all while she'd spoken. You were on edge, suddenly wondering if you were in way over your head, only shaken out of your stress as a car rolled up outside the open front door behind you. Melissa casually strolled to the door, her "tour" apparently over as she stopped to regard you one last time. "I'm glad you're here --"

"I am, too, Melissa, you--"

"-- It'll be much easier to reinforce Carson's English with an American au pair. Not to mention all our friends didn't think to get an au pair for their kids. Just nannies. Now we're the only ones." She gave a shrugging smirk as she slipped out the door and into the waiting car. Her assistant scampered back through the foyer, hot on the trail as she quickly followed Melissa.

Then she was gone. You gazed, bewildered, around the giant foyer before making your way up the grand staircase. You peeked into Carson's room, noting how oddly sterile it all looked for a little boy. It looked as though it had been plucked out of an Ikea catalogue... Only not the children’s section. Rather, the room had the sensibility and furnishings of a shrunken design major.

"Lost?"

You whirled around, gasping in surprise as you were faced with a woman who was a good head or more shorter than you and easily your mother's age.

"Er, no," you stammered, "I was just taking a look. Are you Ai?"

The woman smiled warmly. "Come on, then," she nodded her head down the hallway, "I've brought some fresh towels for your en suite."

Ai had led you back down the hall and into the guest room -- easily three or four times the size of your last shoebox of a dorm, not even including the giant bathroom. She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you met Carson once he was dropped back off from dance lessons. A perfectly sweet little boy, Carson couldn't be older than five. He followed the two of you around as Ai showed you the rest of the house in greater detail. She, as well as the Copelands' personal chef, groundskeeper, and Melissa's personal assistant stayed in the staff quarters just off of the kitchen, but you had been deemed necessary to stay closer to Carson. You would be invited to family meals if it was ruled to be best for Carson, but otherwise you weren't needed after dinner time, except to occasionally put him to bed. Tonight you had decided to take dinner with Ai in the common area of the staff quarters.

You sat on the comfy couch in this infinitely cozier part of the house, watching as Ai made you both some dinner. "So," you smirked, "no personal chef for us, then?"

"Don't need one," Ai laughed, shrugging, "besides, it's what, Saturday? He usually gets dinner prepared and runs out of here for the night." She brought the food to the small dinner table as you walked over to join her.

She laid out some ground rules, or "unwritten rules" as she was cryptically saying. "I know it'll be tempting to ask Mrs. Copeland for her opinion on things,” she explained, “but don't. Get ahold of me or one of the others instead. Believe me, you're better off making a guess if you can't. Don't accept a drink from Mr. Copeland. You're young, and you're pretty, and you have a young body walking under that young brain of yours, so he'll try to be tricky eventually. You'll be tempted to get involved with their personal business, but don't. You will anyway, but try not to. We've all been there, we've all learned, but it still happens to everyone."

It only took you a few days of being restless in the giant home for you to begin feeling more confident in your new role. You accompanied Carson to see his various teachers and tutors, but you also began enriching his day-to-day life. First was a couple trips to different museums you wanted to visit, and then a zoo the next week. Carson began joining you as you explored the city, either holding your hand or sitting on your shoulders as you went shopping and eating together. Melissa and Brent were "homesick", so they insisted on mostly American food in the house. Well, that had to change. Carson particularly enjoyed hot pot or anything involving cheese. He helped you feel more curious, but also more alert. You'd only ever babysat a few times as a younger teenager, so you weren't used to the intense protective instincts you occasionally felt, even going so far as to scold an old woman who pinched his cheek one day while in a cafe.

Carson was more than excited to continue your adventures together, barely able to contain himself as you helped him shimmy into his swim trunks one day. The Copelands had a ludicrously beautiful pool, and it was a shame that its only use seemed to be as a tanning bed for Melissa. You walked through the dining room together to the open glass doors leading out to the backyard. You dramatically smacked yourself in the forehead. "Of course," you told Carson, "we did all this work to get ready and I forgot your floaties upstairs. Wait here, okay? I'll go get them."

You could've sworn you only got halfway up the stairs when you heard a soft splash from outside. The hair on the back of your neck rose as your heart firmly sank in your chest. Carson may be a smart kid, but a kid nonetheless. You sprinted downstairs, kicking off your sandals and your cover-up as you were suddenly overtaken, another person whipping past you and diving straight into the pool. You looked behind you, regarding the door to the kitchen still hanging open as a gasp quickly brought your attention back to the pool. Lunging forward, you helped this stranger pull Carson out of the pool when you realized you were crying. You heard yourself choke out a sob as you noticed Carson wasn't breathing, until the man grabbed him under the armpits, hoisted him down over one knee, and gave him a firm thump on the back. Carson spit up a cough of water, gasping into a cry and reaching for you. You pulled the little boy close, clutching him tight as you hurriedly walked him upstairs.

Only after he was calmed down, and you called his pediatrician to see if you needed to take any precautions, and you called Melissa for the sake of transparency, did you finally put Carson down for a well-needed nap. Melissa was frustratingly flippant despite her concern, curtly noting that they should put Carson into swim lessons as soon as possible before quickly having to hang up. You flipped on the baby monitor, grabbing the receiver and heading downstairs to retrieve your sandals and cover-up when you noticed the door to the kitchen was still open. You peered inside, following the wet footprints into the door leading to the staff quarters. The trail of drips led down the hall to one of the bedrooms, and you peeked inside. The bed was neatly made, the desk was well organized, and you let yourself gravitate towards the photos pinned on the opposite wall. Sure enough, the stranger from the pool was in nearly all the pictures, smiling and laughing with friends and family members. You were jolted out of your snooping as a hand landed on your shoulder. You whirled around, faced with the handsome guy in the photos.

"Are you lost?" He laughed, patting his hair dry with a fluffy towel. He had apparently changed into his comfy clothes, wearing a thin t-shirt and some track pants.

"Oh, holy crap," you wheezed, "I am so sorry. This looks so weird of me. It is weird of me! I just wanted to thank you so much for what you did."

"It was no problem," he modestly dismissed, "and it had to be done. Is Carson alright?"

"Yes! He'll be fine. And yourself?"

"I'll also be fine," he smiled warmly, his hand returning to your shoulder, "and you? You'll be fine?"

You nodded, earnestly at first and suddenly crumbling back into tears. You were still a bit shaken up, honestly, enough so that you found yourself leaning into the chest of a man whose name you didn't even know.

"Hey," he soothed, "hey, hey, you did great. You did better than great." He slid a gentle knuckle under your chin to tip your gaze up at him. You realized, now, just what you were doing: crying onto -- and hugging -- a stranger in his bedroom while wearing only a bikini.  You found yourself entirely overcome with embarrassment. Your cheeks burning bright red, you turned and scampered out of the room. 

A couple nights had passed before you could bear to venture back down to the kitchen. This had become a bit of a ritual lately, where you would sneak downstairs when you couldn't fall asleep and have a small snack, or maybe a glass or two of wine while you read. It was a stunning kitchen, just like the rest of the house. You hopped up onto the counter with your glass of Pinot, munching on a couple small slices of gouda while you looked over an article on your phone. The door creaked and you steeled yourself, ready to apologize to Melissa for sitting on the counter and drinking her wine (though you knew you didn't have to and you were already sure she drank enough that she'd never notice.) Instead, in through the door popped the cute guy you'd already made a fool of yourself in front of. You both carefully regarded each other from across the room.

"Is that the Pinot?" He asked. 

"Yes?"

"A Merlot would pair better with that." He strolled over, opening the miniature wine fridge on the counter reserved specifically for opened bottles. He slid out a handsome Merlot and poured you a new glass. "I'm not one for letting it breathe when I'm just snacking, but it's worth trying sometime."

You took another nibble of the cheese in your hand, catching yourself keeping eye contact with the man as you tried the wine. You nodded contentedly. "I'm sorry for the other day,” you offered, “That must've been awkward for you."

"No, not at all. Well, no more than needed, which was only a tiny bit. You were stressed out; I get it." He took the half full glass of Pinot out of your hands and sipped from it. "I'd hate to let this go to waste," he explained.

"Do I get to know your name?"

"Only if you promise not to cry on me tonight," he teased, looking regretful as he saw your reaction. "Too mean? Too mean. My name is Kun."

You introduced yourself and you talked.

In fact, you talked late every night in the kitchen that week. Kun was refreshing, smart, thoughtful. Sometimes you just snacked and joked around, other times he cooked you something and you both enjoyed it while you stayed up talking. Kun’s cooking was always effortlessly delicious, whether it was a grilled cheese or an entire tiramisu he secretly made for you to share. It wasn’t long before he suggested you see each other during the daytime, maybe when Carson was at one of his lessons. It was exciting to think that Kun wanted to spend so much time with you. 

“Are you going to watch me?” Carson asked you while he slipped on his ballet shoes. 

“Not today, bud,” you admitted, apologetic but firm.

“Awh, why? I like when you watch,” he pouted.

“I’m hanging out with Kun while you dance. Is that okay?”

Carson thought about it before nodding. “Yeah. I like Kun. He’s nice. Do you like Kun?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “I like Kun. Have fun, and I'll be right here when you're done.” 

Carson waved out the window of the dance studio as you left, waving back at him when Kun pulled up to the curb on his scooter. He handed you a spare helmet before whisking you away. 

Kun had brought you to a tiny cafe deep in the city, winding you down side streets and eventually ending up in a quiet corner of a quiet coffee shop, nonchalantly tittering with the quiet small talk that surrounded you as you sipped your coffee. He explained what made a good cup of coffee, and was pleasantly stunned when you matched him beat for beat with your knowledge from your stint  as a coffee snob. He liked how driven you were, even as you insisted you had no idea what you were doing half the time. Having his personal attention was quickly becoming a luxury, something you treasured more and more. Kun was curious if you considered staying past your contract with the Copelands, but it was hard to tell at this point. What all was there to stay for?

His hand gently held yours as you talked, something you hadn’t expected but readily accepted, his casual forwardness making this easy when it would normally make you wary. You didn’t always fall for guys, but it was so effortless with Kun. He was practically beckoning you with open arms and you were practically leaping into them for how carefree this felt. Every touch was gentle and innocent, like he was scared of chasing you away. He didn’t try to kiss you, he didn’t even try to hold you, but he was perfectly content holding your hand. This was easy. 

What wasn’t as easy was work. Carson wasn’t always cooperative, especially with how little he saw his parents. With so many authority figures in his life but no stable rally point, he would act out. It wasn’t constant, but it was regular enough. The silent treatment one moment, or perhaps a whine, or maybe a full-blown tantrum. You were becoming a pro at ignoring onlookers when Carson would spontaneously decide to have a meltdown. 

On a particularly moody night, Carson begged and begged you to come to dinner with him, and suddenly figured in the middle of the meal that he had no desire to eat his vegetables (which was a shame, considering how impeccable Kun got the roast on them.) His whines became tears as you attempted to reason with him. Melissa watched, carefully observing. Brent momentarily caught your attention, an odd look in his eye making you quickly avert your gaze. Once negotiations were finally settled, Brent smiled a small smile, quietly impressed. Melissa, however, had a look of contempt. Had you done something wrong?

Thankfully, Kun was always there at the end of the night to help you vent, just let off some steam as you sat and hung out in the kitchen. In a rare moment of pure spite, you let him know that even though you had no kids of your own, that you were confident that you’d be a better mother than Melissa. To your utter surprise, Kun agreed.

“The way you handle Carson? Perfect,” Kun praised as he poured you another glass of wine, “Melissa’s just being a jerk because it doesn’t come naturally to her.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. She was all business before Carson from the sound of it, and she doesn’t seem much different. She was Brent’s assistant before she was his wife, you know.”

You pondered that as you sipped your wine. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” you concluded. Kun nodded in return. 

“If it makes you feel any better, it sounds like Brent sees a lot of Melissa in you. I heard him mention it on one of his phone calls he takes in the gazebo out back. I take it that he likes how professional you are and everything.”

It didn’t make you feel better. In all honesty, it hung on you and nagged at you for days. The first time you had really met Brent, weeks ago now, you had literally run into him after bringing some laundry downstairs. Ai would normally grab it, but the brevity still felt odd and you were headed down there anyhow. You had bumped into Brent as you turned a corner, dropping your laundry basket and letting out an uncharacteristic squeal of surprise. Brent was so tall. It was a little intimidating as he had stooped down to help you pick up your clothes, that same sideways smile you saw at dinner tonight on his face as he had handed you a couple of shirts he grabbed for you. His thumb had been right on top of the bundle he passed back to you, dipped into a stray pair of panties that you had dropped with the basket. You had blushed and gathered your clothes before running off. 

You never thought you compared to Melissa, but now you were scrutinizing her as well as yourself. You compared the ways you dressed, the ways you walked, but couldn't see any similarities. What did Brent mean? One day, you sat with Carson in his room as he put makeup on you. He was so interested in coloring and painting, that he got so intensely curious when he noticed you touching up your lips one afternoon. So, you figured, why not let him go crazy? 

“I like your eyes,” Carson observed as he carefully colored your eyebrows. They were currently jet black and very angry. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “I like your face and your hair but I like your eyes the most.”

“What about Mommy?” You asked curiously. 

“I don’t like Mommy’s eyes,” Carson shook his head. 

“You don’t? What else is different about Mommy and me?”

“Everything,” Carson concluded, “what a weird question.”

It was a weird question, but now you felt better knowing that even Carson thought so. 

Finally, the next day, you’d had it. You went to look for Brent when you were sure he was home. It would just be a curious -- but blunt -- question. He'd been nice enough to you before that you figured he would understand. And you’d laugh about it. You’d heard the door to the patio open and close when you’d been studying up in your room signaling you that he was taking one of his business calls in the backyard again.

You quietly padded down the stairs, through the foyer and into the dining room. A gasp forced itself from your chest before you even really registered what you saw outside in the yard beyond the giant sliding glass doors. Melissa turned from where she straddled Kun’s lap by the poolside, her momentary confusion turning into the most spiteful smile you'd ever witnessed. Kun was frozen under her, his eyes locked on you in an expression you couldn't make out before you quickly turned away, reeling as you rushed back to your room. 

It was an odd feeling, being so betrayed by someone you didn’t feel even belonged to you. Of course you were friendly, of course you flirted a little, but now you just felt stupid for ever thinking that Kun wanted you. Of course he would want Melissa instead, Melissa who stood tall and lithe and was pretty and sexy and well-spoken and so, so commanding. You never knew a person who dominated a room like she did. It hurt seeing her on top of him, and you just felt like a petulant girl for it. You waited for him in the kitchen every night for days, but he never showed. Your heartbreak only multiplied. 

Fine, you figured. If Kun liked sexy then you could do that. You felt a little immature the next evening as you unfolded the new dress you bought from its shopping bag, but it felt proactive. The dress was simple, honestly, but it hugged your body and it wasn't like anything you owned already. You did already own exactly one pair of stilettos, something you only brought for appearances in case you had been asked to accompany the family to a party or other function. Your plan was simple: you'd head down to the kitchen to let Ai know you were heading out for the night and just happen to run into Kun. Your heels clicked on the tile and echoed off the walls as you headed downstairs. Was this petty? Sure, but would it get results? You were confident it would. 

The kitchen was apparently empty at first, but you were surprised to see Brent pop up from behind the open refrigerator door as he snapped open a beer. 

“Hey,” he smiled, “would you like one?”

“Oh,” you fumbled, your fingers playing with the chain of your clutch purse, “no, thank you. I was just telling Ai that I was going out, maybe ask Kun for a ride.”

“Well I saw Kun leave a few hours ago,” he shrugged, “but can we talk? I don't usually have time like this.”

“Sure,” you nodded with a small smile as you set your purse down on the kitchen island, “is it about Carson?”

“No no,” Brent shook his head as he pushed an open beer into your hand anyhow. You absently sipped at it, drawing a grin from him. “It's about you. You watch my son almost all hours of the day and I hardly know you.” He pulled a bar stool out from under the island and invited you to sit. However, he still stood as you talked. You explained school and work and life back home, things you realized you'd talked with Kun about not too long ago. 

“Sorry if I'm rambling,” you winced, setting your beer down. Brent flashed you a dashing smile. 

“Not at all. You're great. It's nice to get to know you.” You blushed deep at the words as Brent brushed his fingers back through his hair. “Admittedly, I picked you. I think I did pretty well.”

“You did? You do?”

Brent nodded solemnly. “You think Melissa wanted an au pair around? Someone to be a better mother than she is? If I weren't so busy, I'd have Carson to myself. That's why I'm so glad I picked you. I liked your resume. That presenter picture you included from that convention was cute.”

Your blush heated your face even more. Maybe Brent was just really forward and blunt like his wife? You shifted awkwardly in your seat when he took a step closer to you. “I'm glad I'm doing a good job,” you offered, tempted to slide off your chair before Brent took another step closer. 

“You're doing a fine job,” he spoke softly, “you remind me a lot of Melissa when I first met her. She always looked so eager to please.” At this he stepped between your knees. Your breath hitched in your throat as Brent stroked your hair behind your ear. Even as you clenched your legs, trying to shut him out, he leaned in even closer. “What about you? Are you eager to please?”

Shameful tears were already welling at the corners of your eyes as you thrashed against him, putting your fists up to fight him off. Brent grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them tight with a disgustingly playful grin as his other hand trailed down to his belt. 

“Think about it,” he chided, “you're in a house in a city in a country on the other side of the planet. Can you really afford losing this job? Getting thrown out on the street?”

“Brent, please—“

“Call me Mr. Copeland,” he insisted. Brent neared despite your tearful grimace, his lips barely brushing yours before he was yanked off of you. You helplessly watched, relieved and terrified as Kun pulled him back and got in between you. 

“Jesus, Brent--” Kun spat, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

Brent immediately squared up against him. He towered over you, but he was still half a head taller than Kun. “Why is it your business, boy? We were just having a nice chat.”

“Didn’t look too nice to me,” Kun shook his head firmly, “I think you should go.”

“I don’t think you should talk to me like that in my own fucking home,” Brent glowered. 

“And I don’t think I should tell Melissa that you hired an au pair just to fuck, but maybe we should both re-think things.” Kun stood his ground as Brent fumed, ultimately throwing a fist right for Kun that he managed to dodge. He tried again, this time Kun ducking and delivering his own punch to Brent’s stomach. Brent crumpled, the air knocked out of him as Kun grabbed your hand and your purse and pulled you into the door to the staff quarters. He flipped a lock on the inside of the door and marched you down the hall into his room as Brent knocked manically on the door. 

Kun closed his bedroom door behind him and instantly caught you as you fell into him, all your frightful tears catching up to you and spilling onto his chest. 

“Shh,” Kun soothed as he wrapped an arm back around your shoulders, careful not to overstep while you were in this state. He still held you close, stroking your hair. 

“What’re you doing back already?” You asked into his shoulder. 

“Been feeling off all week. Going out wasn’t helping, so I came back.”

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke into his shirt, dipping your head down into his chest. 

“Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?” Kun grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back just enough to look into your eyes. His jaw was set firm, his eyes still wild with adrenaline and anger. 

“The other day when I saw you with Melissa by the pool,” you babbled, “I dunno, I just felt so jealous, and I just wanted you to pay attention to me like that, too, and it’s so stupid, Kun, I was so stupid--”

“No.” Kun said firmly. “That’s not stupid. You're not stupid. I should've talked to you instead of hiding away.” He let you go, taking a seat on the bed and exasperatedly pushing his face into his hands for a second. You took the opportunity to seat yourself at his desk, thankful that he chose the bed instead. “Melissa and I… It’s complicated. She’s lonely but she’s awful, and I need this job now that I have it. My name will be smeared all over town if I leave on bad terms, especially since I've never let her get everything she wants. But she still comes onto me, and even more since you came here.”

“So the other day?”

“I thought she was out at a meeting and I went for a swim. When I came up for air she was sitting there and got me to come out to talk and, well, you saw.” Kun’s eyes were downcast with his admission. “I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for what happened out there.”

“Is it true?” You asked. Kun perked his head back up to look at you. “Did Melissa not want me here?”

Kun sighed. “No.”

“Brent said she didn't want someone to come and be a better mother than her.”

“I know we've joked about it, but she's tried. It just hasn't come to her yet.”

“That's no excuse,” you shook your head, “she can only be so unaccepting. She can't hire me and hate me.”

“Sure she can. She’s stubborn.”

“That’s not fair, though.”

“No, it’s not.” Kun commiserated. 

The silence settled in the room as Brent finally finished knocking down the hall. 

“You look amazing, by the way.” Kun admitted quietly. 

“Only in this?”

Kun shook his head. “All the time, but especially in this.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“The whole… Melissa of it all. If I told you how beautiful are and how good talking to you feels, and how I adore how you taste my food and you don’t just eat it, and you talk to me and you don’t just listen… It would make everything difficult.”

Your patience hit the tipping point, and you were done waiting for something to happen for you. Kun watched curiously as you stood, crossing the couple short steps stand between his knees. His eyes closed as your fingertips pushed back through his hair, but they opened right back up as you gently lowered yourself onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Kun waited, wary of moving too fast for you. Only when you wrapped your arms around him did he return the gesture. You stroked his hair back again, and Kun took the hint to look into your eyes again. 

“So we could've done this a long time ago?”

“We should’ve,” Kun replied. His hands gently pulled you closer where they rested on the small of your back. That was all the confirmation you needed. Your fingers threading back through his hair, you gently, finally, lovingly pressed your lips to his. This loosened him up even more, instantly matching and accelerating your growing passion. 

“How much do--” he began asking against your neck as he placed a kiss below your ear. 

“--Everything,” you answered promptly, “I want to make up for missed time.”

“Everything?” He clarified. 

“Everything.”

Kun nodded with an eager grin, quickly sliding off his jacket and getting his fingers into the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off and you were confronted with the heat coming off him. It was so inviting that you instantly reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it all the way down. You shrugged the sleeves off your shoulders, revealing the lacy bra you had on underneath. Kun nuzzled close, his hands gently on your breasts and trailing around back to the clasp as he drew your lips into another hungry kiss. 

“What if we’d been doing this all along?” You smirked as he tossed your bra onto the desk chair. You grabbed his shirt off the bed and did the same.

“Well, I don’t think I could leave you alone,” he laughed as he kissed and groped your breasts.  “It’d be pretty obvious that you're mine.”

“Think we could've prevented that out there?” You asked. Kun grimaced. 

“Don't talk about it, but for what it's worth, sure. Instead of being here you would be out with me at dinner.”

“Tell me I'm yours again,” you smiled sweetly as you kissed his neck, a giggle escaping you when he shivered in return. Kun grabbed you around the waist and laid you down on the bed. The hem of your slinky dress was already raised on your hips. He made quick work of pulling off your panties, tossing these onto the desk chair as well. 

“You’re all mine,” Kun said seriously as he laid against you, pressing up between your spread legs, “just like I'm all yours. And you only have to say so and I would leave with you.”

“You would?” You gasped as you reached between you to get his jeans open. His length warm in your hands drove you wild, all the emotions you were feeling only amplifying. 

“Absolutely,” Kun assured you as he ground into your hand, “you think working here will be the same?”

“What about Carson?” You breathlessly asked as Kun’s own fingers began exploring your entrance. 

“He’ll be fine as long as Ai’s here until she helps hire a new caretaker. And you’ll be fine. You’re going to be a perfect mother some day.” Those words made you throb in a way you never had before. Even Kun took notice of your interesting reaction as his firm cock probed into your dripping pussy. The wheels in his head visibly turned. “Are…” He carefully began, “are you on birth control?”

You nodded, catching up to his train of thought. A faint idea of what he meant was forming in your head, and you wanted to try. “Kun,” you breathed, “fuck me. Put a baby in me.”

Kun’s eyes lit up, the fire behind them practically burning you. “Say it again,” he ordered.

“Put a baby in me, Kun,” you begged sweetly. 

Kun’s cock throbbed hard in you as began to fuck you in earnest. “Alright, now never say it again if you don’t want me to cum instantly,” he laughed breathlessly as he thrust against you. 

“You sure? What if I ask you to cum in me and knock me up?” You smiled evilly and Kun groaned deep. He kissed you hard as you whined against him. 

“Or,” you teased, your high heels tangling behind his back, “What if I say I want to make you a daddy?”

Kun let out another loud groan, his hips faltering against you. “And definitely never say that again,” he laughed desperately. 

“Kun, Kun,” you pleaded, “it’s so good, you’re getting me there.”

“Yeah?” He gave you a naughty smile, “And you want me to cum, too, right? I'll fill you up and make you mine and put a baby in you?”

Your nails raked into Kun’s back, your feverish moans escaping you faster and more desperate as you neared your peak. 

“Cum for me,” Kun ordered, his lips trailing over your shoulder, “cum for me and I promise I'll fill you up.”

You cried out with your orgasm, your tensed thighs clamping around Kun’s hips and he followed right after. He fell against you, your moans and sighs echoing against each other as your throbbing heat milked his cock dry. The two of you curled up into a sweating heap, breathing each other in in the afterglow. 

“You meant it? About leaving together?” You finally asked. Kun panted his affirmation. 

“I do. I'll strike a deal with Brent. No blacklisting and I won’t rat him out.”

“What about Melissa, though?”

“I’ll tell her once I find a new job. It just won't be obvious it's me.”

“Alright,” you nodded, still catching your breath in Kun’s arms, “so why should I?”

“Because I love you,” he whispered in return, and your heart was fit to burst.

[parkerparts]

My Work is Loving the World

Harley Keener lives alone in Tony Stark’s cabin by the lake. He fills his days with bot-building, AI-coding, garden-tending, and absolutely no spider-killing. It’s fun, sure, but he’s terribly lonely. That all changes when he comes across a red and blue spider in his garden, and to make matters even better, the little fella can understand him.

Truly, it’s a testament to Harley’s sanity — or lack thereof — that he doesn’t run away screaming. Instead, he smiles softly and holds out his hand. “Well then, Peter. Want to come stay with me in the house for a little while? I’m real lonely up there and could use the company.”

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

(parkner, 2.6k, no warnings except for fluff and a lil sad boi harley, inspired by this prompt by @offbrand-celestial, title from mary oliver’s ‘the messenger,’ beta’d by the lovely @midorimireio-blog)

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When he was nine years old, Harley read that killing spiders in a beer brewery was practically illegal. His garage might not be a brewery — though admittedly, he had made moonshine in there once or twice on a whim with a friend or as a dare — but he still outlawed the killing of spiders.

“Why?” his Ma had asked, stepping into the place to bring him a dinner plate. She frowned at the expanse of cobwebs Harley empathetically embraced.

“They’re cool creatures,” he said with a shrug, mouth full with a bite cornbread. “Ain’t done nothing wrong to me, so I don’t see no point in killin’ them things.”

Twelve years later, not a thing has changed. He lives in Georgia now, in the lakeside cabin Tony and Pepper keep as their getaway house. They visit more often as Morgan gets older, needing a break from whatever mess they handle up in the city to spend time as a family — Harley and the other Keeners included. Harley’s Ma lives in New York, has some swanky job in one of Pepper’s departments, but Abbie’s in Georgia with Harley, attending Emory University. Harley, at Tony’s insistence, had finished high school before moving out, though he refused to go to college. He liked living here, alone most of the time except for when Abbie visited from her dorm on holidays and the Starks and his Ma came down every couple of months. He could do as he pleased, tinkering and inventing and regularly blowing things up. He was terribly happy in that cabin by the lake.

He was also terribly lonely.

Sure, he had his cars and his bots and his trusty AI C.I.R.C.E, but they weren’t the same as human connection, something he infallibly yearned for. Some days, when the self-imposed isolation was too much to bear, he’d drive half an hour into the city of Atlanta, stay a night in a hotel, find a bar, and dance the night away with a faceless guy or two before sleeping alone, buzzed but not drunk and temporarily satisfied.

Most days though, he’d just swallow down the loneliness, bury himself in work or bury himself in blankets. It was all the same to him anyway — a hazy blur of sunrises and sunsets and meals he may or may not have eaten, chores he may or may not have finished. The pile of dirty clothes is a testament to that last one, and he spends three days in an engineering binge to create Landry, the bot who lovingly does his laundry for him when he can hardly be bothered to get out of bed.

Some memories in this hazy blur stick out more sharply than others, and they all revolve around the garden.

It had been started by Pepper as a vegetable garden. When its care fell into Harley’s hands, he had lovingly invested in it, throwing as much hard work and passion into it as he did his engineering. Over the years it has grown into a veritable maze — though not an actual hedge maze, which would have been unimaginably pretentious in Harley’s eyes, and much too orderly. He grew nearly every fruit, vegetable, and flower the Georgia climate would allow and spent hours engineering bots to take care of it.

And, just as in the old garage back in Rose Hill, he had a strict no spider-killing rule.

Harley wakes up, sprawled sideways in a chair on the porch. The sun is high in the sky, and a glance at his phone indicates that it’s well past noon. Even then, Harley shivers, the spring air not yet warm enough for his liking. Half a day wasted, though really, Harley muses as he goes inside, he was up all night combing through his AI’s code, so it’s not like he actually wasted time. Just daylight.

“Mornin’ C.I.R.C.E,” he greets his AI, yawning. “How we feeling?”

“Like brand new, after last night’s check-up.”

“Good, good,” he murmurs, rifling through his dresser. At long last he finds a pair of clean jeans, holding them up with a triumphant grin. “C.I.R.C.E., wake Kof-E up for me, will ya? And send Landry in here. She’s been slacking off her duties.”

“You got it, partner.” Tony had been downright scandalized when he heard Harley’s AI’s country twang. Abbie had laughed about the look on his face for days. Harley smiles at the memory as he goes back out into the kitchen, freshly dressed but with his hair as unkempt as ever. His beloved robot Kof-E whirs from his place on the kitchen counter, wheeling closer as Harley approaches to present a cup of coffee. Harley takes it and pats the robot’s head. He heads outside again, slipping on his boots and a flannel as he makes his way to the garden.

He grabs an apple from the trees that line the border of the garden as he walks through, pausing to greet his robots — Go-G and Gerald — by name as they trundle along. Soon he reaches a small clearing by the lake under the shade of an oak tree that’s sure to be over a hundred years old. Here, Harley takes a seat, finishing his apple and tucking and core into a bag in his pocket that he’ll put in composting later.

A flash of light catches his eye, and he stands, moving closer to the source. There, in between the branches of the tree, is a spider web that — if Harley’s not hallucinating — spells out HI.

“Howdy,” Harley says out loud in response, feeling only a little stupid. “Where are you?”

As if it can understand him, a spider skittles out of the shadows of the branches. Harley bends closer to take a look, surprised by the vibrancy of the peculiar red and blue creature.

“Can you understand me?” Harley asks.

He only has to wait a moment before the spider has spun a new pattern, spelling YES.

“You got a name, fella?”

The response takes a little longer this time as the spider spells out PETER.

Truly, it’s a testament to Harley’s sanity — or lack thereof — that he doesn’t run away screaming. Instead, he smiles softly and holds out his hand. “Well then, Peter. Want to come stay with me in the house for a little while? I’m real lonely up there and could use the company.”

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

Over the next few days, Harley and Peter figure out how to live together comfortably. All of Harley’s robots are programmed to recognize and avoid spiders and spider webs, so Peter’s safety isn’t much of a concern. Communication, however, is.

They start out with an old-fashioned chalkboard with basic responses, needs, and the alphabet written out for Peter to indicate by crawling on. With that taken care of, Harley sets off on his next engineering binge, with the goal in mind to create a robot that will allow Peter to move and speak.

He begins by programming a new AI called PETER — Personal Equipment for Telecommunications and Electronic Replies because Harley loves is acronyms as much as Tony does — and gives him the voice of a teenage boy or young adult.

If Abbie or his Ma were here to witness this bout of insanity, they’d call him out for his poorly concealed loneliness. Nonetheless, he is alone and shamelessly gives in to his fantasy of finding a best friend, even if that best friend is a spider.

And really, Peter’s not too shabby of a best friend to have. He likes bacon and waffles — really, the fact that this spider liked human foods should have been a glaring clue to Harley that something truly weird was going on — and makes Harley regain a somewhat normal sleeping schedule by wrapping webs gently around his wrists to make him stop working late at night and somehow — Harley has never figured this one out — getting C.I.R.C.E. to play rock music loudly every morning to rouse him awake. He also gets C.I.R.C.E. to wake Kof-E up every morning though, so Harley can’t complain too much. Peter accompanies Harley in the lab, webbing tools over with surprising strength and giving as much input as he can with his limited communication abilities. He accompanies Harley into the garden every evening and listens as Harley speaks, asking questions every now and then with his little chalkboard. Harley can’t wait to build his robot, ready to hear Peter tell him a story of his own.

At long last, after two weeks of work, Harley finishes the robot, affectionately nicknamed “Capslock P.E.T.E.R.,” with Peter’s approval. He guides the spider into the clear container that serves as Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s head before stepping back with bated breath to watch his genius play out.

“Hiya, Harley,” Peter/P.E.T.E.R. says, and Harley is nearly moved to tears. “I’m Peter.”

“I know,” Harley replies with a breathless laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Peter replies, voice full of emotion that Harley had no idea an AI was capable of producing.

That evening, they go out to the garden, back to the clearing where they first technically met. Peter greets the garden robots as he trundles by, voice adorably becoming more enthusiastic as the robots chirp back. Harley just smiles fondly at the spider inside the robot, quietly regretting his failure to give Capslock P.E.T.E.R. a face, if only to see him smile back.

“I think it’s your turn to tell me a story,” Harley says, settling by the lake. P.E.T.E.R. rolls to a stop beside him.

“Okay,” he says. “Well, here it goes.”

Peter had once been Peter Benjamin Parker, a bright, young science nerd living in New York City with his aunt. He worked as an intern for Tony Stark, who found the boy after heavy surveillance of a masked vigilante who liked to web muggers up in a sticky, fluid substance of his own invention. “Spider-Man,” the media called him, though Tony preferred “Spider-Boy.”

Then, in a tragic twist of irony, Peter was actually bitten by a spider and somehow become a spider himself.

“Mr. Stark was beside himself. The whole thing was so bizarre, and he couldn’t figure it out. Dr. Banner thought it was radiation, but he attributes most unexplainable phenomena to radiation,” Peter explains.

Eventually, a wizard doctor guy Tony reluctantly called in a favor with figured it out. Harley wants to interrupt and ask what exactly he had figured it out, but Peter glosses over it and presses on. Apparently, Tony had been telling Harley’s Ma the story and she, remembering Harley’s affinity for spiders, had suggested that Tony send Peter down to Harley’s place. They wanted it to be a secret or for him to figure it out on his own or something, so they discreetly packaged Peter in the latest care package/equipment shipment they had sent down from New York.

“That was nearly a week before I found you!” Harley cries out, remembering.

Peter reminds him that “You had an engineering binge,” and Harley blushes, unapologetic.

Together, they sit in silence for a moment as Harley digests the story, which really was something straight out of a comic book. Then a thought occurs to him and he says, “Hey, what did that wizard doctor figure out?”

“Oh,” Peter says with poorly feigned surprise, as if he hadn’t wanted Harley to remember that little detail he left out. “Yeah, he figured out a cure.”

“There’s a cure?” Harley turns to face Capslock P.E.T.E.R. with excitement. “Peter, why didn’t you so? We have to fix this! Tell me, what can I do?”

Peter is quiet for a moment, and Harley begins to wonder if he’s said something wrong. “See, this curse or whatever is magic. And the only cure is a kiss. A true love’s kiss.”

Harley’s mind goes blank. True love?

Harley doesn’t believe in true love. He doesn’t buy into the whole soulmate idea. He moved out to a cabin in the middle of the woods with a heavily encrypted, unlisted address, condemning himself to a solitary lifestyle. He’s lonely, sure, but he likes it. He likes his space, his bots, his AI …

And Peter. He really, really likes Peter.

In the past couple of weeks, Peter has become an integral part of Harley’s life as his trusted companion and caretaker. He’s listened to all of Harley’s stories, and Harley wants nothing more than to hear all of Peter’s, get to know the boy beneath the arachnid body. As he thinks about it more, Harley can’t imagine a life without Peter in it, and maybe Peter’s not his true love — not yet, at least — but it’s worth a shot.

“Well then,” Harley says tentatively. “What are we waiting for?”

With shaking hands, he frees Peter from Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s containment, smiling as the red and blue spider jumps eagerly into his hands. Harley raises his palm to his face, closes his eyes, and before he can think any more about it, he kisses the creature.

Immediately, Harley can feel the ripple of magic course through Peter’s body. The creature in his hands morphs until he’s cupping not a spider but the soft cheek of a boy whose lips are pressed gently against Harley’s. He opens his eyes at long last and pulls away, unable to contain a gasp at the sight of the boy-turned-spider-turned-boy-again, whom he’s come to love.

Peter wears what looks like a spandex suit, though it’s probably some fancy Stark tech, red and blue with black webbing all over it and a black spider emblem emblazoned on his chest. Harley assumes that the mask Peter mentioned is missing, but he’s glad for the fact as he drinks in Peter’s rosy cheeks and amber eyes and tousled brown curls that make Harley’s heart ache with yearning.

“Hi,” Peter says nervously in his own voice, not Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s.

“Thank God you came back wearing clothes, because that would’ve made for a real awkward situation.” Harley wants to take back his words — which he hadn’t actually meant to say aloud, for goodness’s sake — as soon as he sees Peter’s eyes widen, but when the boy lets out a bark of surprised laughter, Harley relaxes, joining in. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s okay. The first time I met Mrs. Potts, I ran into her — literally — and tried to say either ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Nice to meet you’ but ended up blurting out ‘I’m sorry to meet you,’ instead. I just ran away. It was so embarrassing!”

Harley can’t help but to laugh again, leaning his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter leans his head on top of his. They sit there together, in the clearing by the lake, where it all began, feeling completely at peace with the world and each other and their state of being.

“Thank you,” Harley says suddenly, grabbing hold of Peter’s hand.

“What for?”

“The efflorescence of love,” Harley replies, “and the gossamer that holds us together.”

Peter says nothing at that, just squeezes Harley’s hand tighter. Together, they watch the sunset, witness the way the world changes colors.

The world might be forever changing, but at the heart of it all sat two boys by a lake with the knowledge that through it all, they’d have each other.

And it would be enough.

“I died, and was born in the spring; / I found you, and loved you, again.”

— Mary Oliver, “Hummingbirds”

[kittenfemme27]

Magrunner: Dark Pulse

"That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die." 

That’s the often misquoted line written by H.P. Lovecraft and spoken by his fictional “mad poet” Abdul Ahazred in “The Call of Cthulhu”, a short story written by the very same author. It’s meant to symbolize the same thing that almost all of Lovecraft’s work was meant to symbolize: That there are things that view us the same way we’d view a simple speck of dust, or an ant. As so tiny and insignificant that we’re practically unnoticed in the eyes of this massive and overwhelming force. Lovecraft had an intense fear and at the same time an intense fascination with the idea of being insignificant, of being forgotten and unworthy, of being completely and utterly impotent in the face of power that was greater than himself. Every “Old God” that he wrote about is so far reaching above humanity and so incomprehensible that even the act of knowing of their existence was incomprehensible for the human mind, and would oft drive those with that forbidden knowledge to complete and utter insanity. This isn’t really a disputed interpretation of Lovecraft's work, it's barely an interpretation at all. It’s considered a simple set of facts of the universe that he created.

So imagine my surprise when I started playing “Magrunner: Dark Pulse”, a fairly mundane and simple futuristic sci-fi puzzle game marketed to have a “Lovecraftian Twist” and the final nine levels have good ol’ Cthulhu himself checking in on me from the skies above, literally one hundred thousand times my size, and simply observing me like I’m his personal favourite little human. As he communicates with me and makes it clear that I am in-fact, his personal favourite little human and he just can’t wait for me to ascend to his level. As far as a piece of lovecraftian work goes, this game was a doozy. But we’ll get back to that. Before we even get there, I’d first like to talk about the game itself.

Gameplay:

Magrunner is a first person physics based puzzle game featuring magnetism as its element in which you interact with the puzzles in each room. Your goal in each puzzle room is to use various platforms, blocks, and other bits of very clearly marked tech in each room that may be magnetized with either a positive polarity or a negative polarity, and combine that with the physics of the Unreal 3 engine to solve challenges and make it to the next room. To be blunt, the game is squarely a Portal rip-off from its design ideals. Your makeshift magnet glove-gun hybrid can fire 2 colors, one being a negative polarity and one being a positive. Like-colors are attracted to themselves, whereas opposite colors reflect each other. The idea of using magnets in a physics based first person puzzler isn’t an awful one, and neither is the fact it clearly wants to ape Portal’s ideas. Where it fails, unfortunately, is execution. The physics aren’t up to snuff with what you do most of the time and it leads a lot of the puzzles to be confusing or simply frustrating, as even when you know what you’re doing you still have to rely on the physics system of the engine to cooperate with you. Early on, you are tasked with getting 4 small magnetizable cubes together to form into a large one. What this actually has you end up doing is fighting with the cubes and the level as they fling themselves wildly off of each other and into unreachable parts of the level itself. The entire game functions this way and it really removes any sense of challenge or control you have over each puzzle, often feeling like you lucked your way into a solution rather than figured out the puzzle yourself in any meaningful way.

Buggy physics in the Unreal engine are not the developers fault entirely though, the game is an indie project that was kickstarted and for that alone i’m willing to give them a pass on engine problems that they likely did not have the programmers to fix. But, unfortunately, I can’t give a pass on the game failing to iteratively teach you how the mechanics work level by level. Whenever you magnetize an object, it creates a field, and you can see this field thankfully by pressing a key. Anything in that field will automatically interact with anything else that is magnetized in it. In general, these fields are wildly inconsistent in how they operate. Usually, they’re spheres centered around the magnetized object and cause objects within the sphere to either attract or repel. On occasion though you’ll find pads that create a cone of magnetism going the direction that it faces, up to what is an arbitrary height. Later on, you’re given the ability to place your own fields on any flat surface, allowing the levels to become more bare-bones as you have to create the magnetism points yourself. All of this combined means that  If you learn that something works in a previous level, there is no guarantee that it will work in the next level the exact same way. Experimentation in this game is often fraught with a frustrating sigh of not knowing if the game intended for something to work that way, or if you just broke the physics again. Don’t even get me started on the fact there are multiple combat sections inside a puzzle game, ugh.

Art & Sound:

Magrunners similarities to Portal do not end with the gameplay and design, however. Aesthetically, the first and second half of the three act game are ripped directly from Portal and Portal 2. The first half of the game features sleek interiors inside of a testing facility for yourself and other “Magrunners” where everything is cleanly lit, sparse on color and detail, as space-age and sci-fi as you could imagine. These first set of aperture inspired levels lack any sort of hard edge or detail, with every single element in the room being curved and well lit and as minimalist as possible. The second half of the game takes places in facilities “underneath” the one you were in prior and are dilapidated grey and brown ruins of previous testing facilities, complete with all the same tools and magnetizable pads and tech that you had seen previously but this time a much older and “70’s” style of sci-fi aesthetic, but covered in grime and dirt and dust from the years of abandonment and rot. I cannot understate how unsubtle this is. The first third of the game is Aperture Science bonafide and part right after is Old Aperture from Portal 2. Magrunner’s aesthetic inspirations are worn very clearly on their sleeve, and it makes the game feel very boring and bland by comparison. It’s impossible to play Magrunner: Dark Pulse and not feel as though it was simply a junior developer exclaiming: “What if Portal/Portal 2, but Magnets?!” while the rest of the developers collectively lose their minds from excitement.

The music of the game was provided, as far as i can tell by the credits, by Incomptech AKA Kevin Macleod. A musician known for releasing thousands of free songs for use in any creative project. This isn’t, by default, a bad thing. Most of the music was not things I had heard from his library before and thus I didn’t immediately twig that it was his library, but unfortunately the music selection isn’t enough. As in, there are not enough tracks to fit the game. There are 39 levels in total and each level features a music track, but often and especially in the later parts, the music tracks are entirely re-used. This is most apparent when one of the tracks is a rising piercing noise, like the type you’d hear in a horror movie right before the slasher stabs into someone, but it never ends or pays off. It just loops upon itself and becomes this droning nightmare of a track for however long the physics force you to stay in a level. I counted 6 times this happened and each time it was so loud and obnoxious and frustrating that I had to simply turn off the game audio to be able to bare the level at all. 

None of the other sound effects are worth writing home about, either, unfortunately. In something like Portal, there are pretty iconic sounds within its soundscape. The sound of the portal gun firing and portals being created, the soft and child-like speech of the turrets, the chiding and derogatory AI voice of GLaDOS, yet Dark Pulse lacks anything even half as memorable. Aside from the repetitive music, you are only given small bits of dialogue between each level and that’s really it. There’s a lot of character they could have created here, for example: When you gain the ability to create your own magnetic fields at will, the center of them is a dog-robot that your player character created in his spare time as a child. Creating one of these points could’ve been met with an adorable puppy squeak or bark, anything like that. Your character or the various ones that speak to you could’ve chimed in at any point in levels outside of the beginning or end of them, and yet they do not. It’s a big missed opportunity.

Story:

Speaking of characters, whew boy, are there a lot of them

Magrunner takes place in the distant future where a corporation that is effectively Facebook has taken over the planet by connecting every single person to its service essentially from birth and making it as essential to daily life as possible. Because of this, this corporation has become the de-facto richest company in the world. Its founder, Xander Gruckzeber, whose last name is literally an anagram of Zuckerberg, has started a contest in which 7 contestants can compete to become “Magrunners” and take a trip to outer space in a ship that is being powered on experimental magnetic based technology. The contest involves each contestant going through a series of puzzles that prove their aptitude with the magnetic tech that Xander’s company has developed. 

Your character, an orphan named Dax C. Ward, is the only one of the 7 contestants that does not have a corporate sponsor. Instead, he’s a boy genius who built his own robotic puppy at age 10 and at age 21 built his own magnetic glove that interacts with the magnetic technology and allows him to compete. Ever the underdog, you’re helped along by your adoptive uncle Gamaji who himself is a six-armed mutant and an outcast among humanity for it.

Sound a little on the nose? Like it may be lacking subtlety in any form? Yeah, the entire game is like that. From Xander’s last name anagram to the fact that your own character’s name is itself a reference to “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward” which was a short horror novel written by Lovecraft, the game never really had a chance at subtlety in the first place. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but in between the re-hashed artstyle and the immediate and obvious references, and the fact that It tries to throw a very by the numbers cyber punk aesthetic ripped straight out of Blade Runner at you in an opening cutscene that it immediately abandons afterwards. It all just feels tired from the moment you hit New Game and incredibly confused about its own direction. It can’t decide if it’s a Lovecraftian setting, a Sci-fi setting, if it’s trying to say something about Facebook or if it's just going to be Portal: The Magnetic Spin-off.

As the game progresses and Act 1 ends, you find the corpse of another Magrunner being eaten by an anthropomorphic fish person. You are then told by Gamaji that he’s going to help you escape the facility, but this will require you to go through the older parts of the facility as he slowly hacks into the mainframe and tries to get you out via service elevators. Inside these older puzzle rooms are repeated writings on the wall, ravings of someone gone mad with the knowledge of the Old Ones, and giant sculptures depicting various Cthulhu-esque monsters. This would be bad and scary enough on its own, but Gamaji is quick to let you know that portals to some unknown dimension and fish monsters are being spotted in cities all over the world causing havoc and terror. 

About halfway through Act 2, Gamaji drops the bombshell on Dax that his parents didn’t actually die in a car crash like he’s told him all his life, but that they were Old God worshipping cultists and that Dax’s birth in and of itself may somehow be related to that cult and its actions. This tracks, then, because Dax continually receives strange visions in the form of uncovered memories of “The Seven” attempting some ritual to seal off some force from beyond. Act 2 ends with the revelation that Xanders assistant, Kram, is actually behind all the ritual sacrifice and is attempting to summon Cthulhu himself to our world from the Great Beyond. So far, Act 1 and 2 have been rather cliche but haven’t been anything i’d call unremarkable or strange in a Lovecraftian inspired story.

And then Act 3 happens.

Act 3 sees you flung into the far reaches of Actually Literally Space, with various bits of the test chambers around that you must use to get to portals that are marked by a cute little icon of Cthulhu himself that transport you further into space and to the next level. You can quite literally see our pale blue dot to your side if you look, including a gigantic eldritch device that seems to be either siphoning souls to it, or depositing monsters onto the planet. The fact you can breathe in space is just handwaved as “Something Kram must be doing.” and is never brought up again. What really struck me more than anything in these levels, though, is that Cthulhu himself literally appears before you every 2 minutes in each level and simply watches you while repeating “Cthulhu... Fhtagn... R'lyeh...” over and over and over. This was the moment the game honestly lost any credibility from me. Simply seeing a statue in Act 2 caused Dax to go into a screaming panic as he was able to perceive how a human may be turned into a fish person. But seeing the literal Old God himself doesn’t bother him? And why is Cthulhu so interested in you in the first place? Unfortunately, we get an answer to both of those questions and it might be the most insane thing i’ve ever seen in a piece of Lovecraft inspired media.

Dax, somehow through the work of the cult that his parents were part of, is the chosen one. Cthulhu not only cares about him and wants to see him succeed, but even helps him to literally ascend and become an Old God himself. But not, of course, before letting Dax have a heart to heart with Gamaji wherein he tells him that he has seen through Cthulhu’s eyes himself and must now ascend, as he has no other option. Because Cthulhu is a big softie on adoptive relationships, I guess. The game’s final level has you face off against Kram in a boss battle where you fling explosive cubes at each other and attempt to destroy the esoteric relay connected to Earth. During their fight, Dax taunts Kram who tells him that what he is doing is the will of his Master, Cthulhu, and Dax knowingly retorts that what Kram is doing is “Not what He wants.” As if he has a direct line into the Old Gods mind itself. 

I cannot overstate how much of an absolute failure of the mythos itself that this entire story arc is. The Lovecraft mythos was not, and never has been, made for “Chosen One” stories. If you survive an encounter in the first place, you’re often left with horrible scars that never truly leave you because Cthulhu and the Old Gods are in some ways meant to be representative of trauma and a fear of your own trauma. Making Dax suddenly an Old One and a special Chosen One is a complete and utter failure on a scale I've never, ever seen before. It’s been days and I'm honestly still reeling from the fact that was a design decision someone agreed on.

Conclusion:

Magrunner: Dark Pulse is a confusing and often frustrating game with a story that utterly fails its mythos and setting in just about every way possible. But I don’t want to pretend that I didn’t have any fun playing it. I did, and it’s not the worst game I've ever played. It’s not even so much a “so bad it’s good” game, but it’s more of an indie game that clearly tried its hardest and for that I can’t fault it. It’s developers clearly love the Cthulhu and Lovecraftian mythos and really, really, really loved the Portal series and wanted to combine those things into their own spin on it and in that respect, it’s competent enough that I could recommend it to someone who really enjoys those sort of puzzle platformer based games. But... man. That ending. Yikes. 

[chaniters]

Monsters

Reaper’s doomsday threatens to destroy the entire city of Phoenix. Rangers rush to stop him for a final, bloody confrontation. Catastrofiend seeks a second round with Awan.

Next part of @kruk-art ‘s Awan Cormac’s fanfic!

Enjoy! 

_____________________________

“Good evening,” Reaper says holding a mic. “Good evening everyone, how are you liking the party now? Pretty good, am I right? It’s good to be able to address the creme and crop of the West Coast’s corporate world” he says. 

You struggle with the impulse to shoot Reaper right now, and instead, keep moving to the side. You know better... 

It is hard to make way, engulfed by a sea of terrified civilians trying to figure out what’s going on as this skeletal man that has just killed one of their own starts the opening of a typical villain monologue. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the wardrobe or the much deeper tone he’s using, but he sounds like the physical manifestation of death right now, and it’s very demoralizing.  

According to your instructors, your main objective now would be to get into the best spot to get a clear shot at the enemy the moment your team leader orders it. Team leader... That would be Ortega right now in your mind, even if you’re not a ranger proper. 

At the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of a couple of guards rushing towards the stage as you anticipated. You stop to study what kind of countermeasure Reaper’s planned to stop them. It’s pretty obvious the villain would have something prepared for this eventuality in a plan this complex. Still, you never know, right? Maybe it all backfires and he gets arrested on the spot?. That would be fun! 

You watch with anticipation as they start approaching Reaper who doesn’t even turn to them… And there it goes. They stumble on their feet and fall flat, their powered carapace armors malfunctioning as one, the joints releasing smoke and the stench of burnt circuits. A quick glance reveals the same is true for every other guard in the room. Also, more importantly, all the dampeners go down simultaneously.

“I’m afraid we will have none of that, my fellows” Reaper goes on “My AI system Charon has taken full control of the network that connects every system in this facility, including your mercenaries armors. I just have to thank your wonderful management for outsourcing most computer systems to my company” he adds dusting off his skeletal hands “It made my infiltration today a lot easier, yes, thank you for that.” 

If his AI took over all the systems that means he could overhear your intercoms. You send a mental suggestion to the woman next to Ortega, making her tap his shoulder before unconsciously pointing at you and each of the other rangers in the room, letting him know where everyone is. Having a telepath on the team is good for stuff like that.

Ortega quickly catches on because it’s not the first time you pull something this weird on him, and he gestures for you all to fan out and surround the enemy, a command you quickly pass onto all of your team with wordless thoughts. 

Sunstream and Steel move on to opposite ends of the room, while you waddle through the crowd to do the same with a hand to your gun’s grip, so that makes you three the shooters. Anathema, Elyise, Sentinel, and Ashfall remain now hidden in the crowd to intercept him. All four have powers that could prevent Reaper’s death touch, so it’s a pretty solid plan, at least in your mind. 

“Have you gone mad? What do you want from us?!” A woman asks. You recognize her as one of the company’s most priced Geneticists, Dr. Laverne. You read about her in a magazine, she developed the energy source in the Arcology.

“What do I want, you ask, Dr. Laverne? Well, to begin with, I’d like you all to have a taste of your own poison. Charon, proceed” he commands as he adjusts something to his face. A gas mask? Yes. Oh shit...

Ventilation shafts open up into the ceiling, making everyone look up which soon proves to be a mistake. Columns of dark brown gas descend rapidly upon the crowd, engulfed everyone into the acrid stench of the cloud outside. He must have disconnected the air purifiers, and started pumping the poisonous air directly inside. 

The people around you immediately cover their mouths and eyes, entering coughing fits, and you have to hold onto a wall while you adjust your gas mask not to fall into it as well. 

“W... What are you…?” Laverne coughs heavily, as reaper comes down the stage, walking up to her. “Why are you doing this? This is … my life’s… work. We are protecting the people in here” she says trying to stand to him.

“You, who have built this monstrosity... You, who are literally throwing a party while everyone outside is poisoned... You call this protection?”

“Not true… this… project is open… open to everyone!” she protests

“Everyone who can pay, you mean. Your greed has blinded all of you. You praise yourselves in having brought a handfull of powered heroes to the world, while your product kills thousands who try to live the dream... But it ends now. I’m not only funneling the cloud into the living spaces of this Arcology. It’s going straight into the power plant’s core, Dr. Laverne.”

The fear that creeps into her brain upon his words is hard to miss, even at this distance, in a room full of terrified people.

“J-just stop… we can… we can do whatever you want. We can offer you anything just...” she tries to negotiate under the gas

“Please doctor, I wouldn’t have gotten this far if all I wanted was extortion. The biomorphic fungi abomination you engineered is a truly remarkable lifeform.  It resists extreme temperatures, toxins of all kinds, and more importantly, grows incessantly while generating and metabolizing hero drugs turning the reaction into power. Quite brilliant I must say. Well, as it turns out, the toxic waste poisoning the city’s sky just happens to be the fungi’s ideal feeding ground. Now that it’s entering the core, the creature must be growing at a rapid pace, don’t you think?  It will soon overgrow its containment unit… Charon believes once it’s free it will grow through the whole Arcology exterior, maybe the whole city. Perhaps it can turn the entire cloud into hero drugs, given enough time.”

“You are mad! You will destroy the entire city! You will kill hundreds of thousands!”

“I’ve thought of it too, Doctor… but the thing is… isn’t it worth it to sacrifice one city if it means the whole country will realize the danger that your corporations represent? What lack of all regulation truly means? There won’t be any way for them to still support the economic free-zone and lack of all regulations after this.”

“Please.. You can’t do this!”

“Oh but I can. I am the Reaper, and you Dr. Laverne, you will die. You will ALL die. Want to escape?” he asks turning to a few executives rushing to the door “Be my guest of course, but remember, there’s a riot outside. I finally found a use for Psychopathor, and let me tell you, he’s already surrounded the whole building and the people are MAD. If you somehow manage to make it out, you will be torn to pieces on the streets.” 

By now, there is general chaos, as everyone rushes to the exits. Reaper raises his scythe to strike at Laverne… 

“I am the Reaper, and I have come for your sou…-”

“NOW!” Ortega says giving the signal. 

 You draw your gun and take two shots. You can see Sunstream sending a golden beam, while Steel’s activates his plasma rifle at the same time. 

Sunstream’s beam hits instantly, producing a flash of heat, followed by the explosive plasma blast from Steel’s cannon and your blasts at roughly the same time.  Anathema’s times his jump along with you and is now holding Dr. Laverne, safely out of Reaper’s reach. 

For one, hopeful, brief instant, you’re sure you’ve got him… But your mind quickly realizes the truth. 

“Watch out, he’s still in there!” you say trough your intercom

“How?! We just blasted him!” Sunstream asks.

As the cloud starts to dissipate, Reaper laughter cackles through the room.

“Now this is a surprise... Rangers! I expected you to be outside fighting Psychopathor… Well, I must admit this is awkward… I’m not used to being on the baddies side. Was it too much monologuing?”

“Simply the worst” Charge says standing up to whatever’s left to him. “Now please surrender”

“I think I’ll pass... It’s a bit too soon for that, don’t you think?” 

You begin to make out his figure, walking out of the mist. He looks unscathed, but translucent, glowing with white light. Shit, you’ve seen this before at the farm! So that’s why he had invisible skin…

“Everyone, be careful! He’s boosted twice! Those must be some sort of intangibility power!” 

“Shit, so he kills on touch and we can’t even touch him?” Anathema asks. 

“Yeap. Couldn’t possibly be worse” you say, immediately regretting the choice of words. 

“Alright Rangers, let’s do this. Let’s have this little fight. But what is a Halloween party without a proper monster? Charon, please do close the doors so we can keep our partygoers here for the main attraction. Oh, and while at it...  take over the speakers, and play... hmm… the Monster Mash?. I always enjoyed a classic when working on Halloween.”

“Main attraction? What do you mea…?” Ortega asks. 

Too late. The sudden strain of nausea, pain, and rage makes your vision blur, forcing you to stop in your tracks.  You lift your gaze, and manage to get a glimpse of it, falling onto you from one of the shafts. You get just enough warning to dive to the side, as it’s blades slice the man to your left instead of you. 

Catastrofiend lands where you had just been standing roaring, it’s eyes glaring straight into your yours. It raises its blades, ready to strike. 

It hasn’t forgotten it was you who shot it last time, and whatever it is you did, the fiend didn’t like it. It wants to pay you back. A quick scan reveals none of your allies is close enough to help you right now. 

Everyone who survived that night had their own version of the events, but the one thing all witnesses agreed on is that Reaper sang along with that stupid song the whole time. You still have nightmares about it.

Catastrofiend, smiles, before leaping straight at you. 

Shit.

___________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[moonlightgirl-05]

Ray Bad Ending Story 1 walkthrough + Bad Relationship 1 walktrough

Bad Ending Story 1 (5-6 days)

1. Get into Ray’s route from 1 - 4 days in Another story 

Day 5:

00:21 

*  I can’t go to sleep. There’s something bothering me….

*  Hmm… I’m sure he has an important thing planned.

*  Whoa, whoa… Let’s take it easy, Jumin.

*  Does your father have a new girlfriend…. ?

*  Did you eat them all? I bet you’ve been pumped up lol

*  Talk about his scale… Your father’s the best!

*  Does that mean we’d get to see a cat tower in the company????

*  … You actually have the time to make this print?

*  I think motivation works best when it comes from pressure.

*  I don’t think you have to worry about me

*  No, nothing.

*  You mean becoming a cool-headed businessman?

*  Because then more people would get to see it?

*  Jumin, when do you plan to get to bed?

*  ….

*  Do we really have to identify who the hacker is?

*  Even if Seven gives his all, he’ll never be able to beat this hacker lol

*  V…is this really the best?

*  …You’re trying to keep your secret, not lighten his load.

*  But I think you’re already good enough!

*  …At least I appreciate that you’re working so hard.

*  You’re not up to something with Seven, are you?

*  I’ll see you again – !

*  Well, I only wish everyone’s paradise will come soon

*  I wish you wouldn’t underestimate that hacker.

* I  agree…. V seems to have a very strong sense of responsibility.

*  I should settle down now and go to sleep.

02:44

*  It’s just that this hacker is a bit frustrating

*  It’s just that….I feel frustrated for some reason.

*  Because he told you not to chase the hacker?

*  Sure…

*  Guardian? Yeah right… I think he’s just busy cleaning up the mess.

* But you gotta admit you’re not as good as that hacker…

*  You should be ashamed of yourself. And admit that the hacker is better than you.

*  Are you sure we can trust V?

*  Hmmm…I don’t think you should trust him too much.

*  If you’re good to work, why not recommend a guest? LoL

*  I wish she could write this complicated situation into poems… Sure, let’s invite her…. or I don’t know…. She doesn’t sound like a good guest. (If you don’t want the email)

*  …Still, you won’t be able to defeat this hacker.

*  Bye –

06:03

*  Seven won’t be after you anymore… What do you think about that?

*  I was surprised, actually. You’re weaker than I thought

*  Arrogance results in misfortunes.

*  Hmm…are you sure I’ll be safe here?

*  I think you should work harder if you have time to chat like this.

*  You should stop chatting and get to work now.

09:12

*  Hey Yoosung

*  That’s because your digestive system is failing.

*  Huh…..

*  You’re rude to your mother!

*  You should do something about him…

*  Yoosung, you should keep a regular lifestyle.

*  They’re both bad. Both of you need special treatment for your health

*  Who knows…? Maybe your face will turn all shiny and pretty like a sunflower!

*  Your mother called?

* Your efforts will all return in the end.

*  You should try it. You”d see in the end that your mother is right.

*  Don’t you think you’re being obsessive…by keeping your questions, Yoosung?

*  Even if you are disappointed, I think it’s because she’s your mother. Try to be a little more understanding.

*  But V could almost be your family in the past.

*  You should obey your mother. Your family might ask unreasonable things but they provide you a place to be

*  But then again…you wouldn’t know the duty of a mother, Zen. Bond with a mother is indestructible…

*  One more game?

*  We can all have our own ways with life – !

*  You’re being unreasonable.

*  Goodbye.

*  He’s so immature. I think it’s because he’s not with his parents.

*  He’s being immature. Someone’s gotta teach him how cruel the world is.

*  If I were you, I’ll try calling them. Don’t you think it’s such a tragedy to stay disconnected from your family?

* Goodbye.

12:21

*  Hello.

*  Not yet…

*  Why were you so busy?

*  You should work on things that got delayed while standing by.

*  What meaning would that have? You’ve joined the company recently, it’ll be better if you think about […]

*  Here’s your boss.

*  Don’t you think you’re slacking off too much?

* Don’t tell me… Jumin… Do you have a new business in mind…?

*  Caps.

*  I don’t think anyone can beat this hacker.

*  That’s not gonna happen…because no one’s as good as this hacker. ^^

* That’s nice…We can bring both of them to this…

*  I feel like having the unit’s info for dinner…

*  Though I’m sure you’d need more than that to defeat this hacker.

*  Perhaps the department doesn’t exist at all…

*  Good luck.

*  I’m not sure…

*  Could you fix my computer, Jaehee?

*  Congrats – !!! Haha.

*  You’re so generous.

*  This is your chance. I look forward to your performance.

*  You can’t beat this guy anyways. So don’t work too hard.

*  There might be a difference of thoughts at work here. I understand.

14:37

*  What are you doing, Seven?

*  It’s the only way for him to stay.

*  I’m okay. I got loads of time.

*  I wanna see who would win this war.

*  Save is good…! DB is more than welcome! or It sounds too tricky. I don’t know about DB…. (If you want the email)

*  Your hand is so pretty….

* I wanna know what your hand looks like Zen lol

*  Are you feeling better? You had an argument with Yoosung.

*  There’s this term to call a person who talks like you…

*  …In his personal Zen Report ver. 06.

*  Dying-to-brag-about-something’ mood!

*  So that means your practice begins now.

* That must be a lot of pressure… You should work a lot.

*  You should know when to celebrate and not.

*  You should be grateful for your present day!

*  This is boring! I’m outta here!

* You should get to work. Now.

*  You should stop making excuses and get to work.

*  You’re not slacking off, are you?

*  You still won’t be able to beat the hacker…

* He’s working without even sleeping. You think you can beat him?

* Is this woman your girlfriend?

*  You’re feeling down because you should.

*  Good luck.

*  He should deal with it. It’s his job.

*  Shouldn’t you practice right now?

*  Have a good day.

16:13

*  All his hard work is finally paying off. Now he has to work even harder.

*  Why don’t you say that after you’re done with your duty?

*  I wonder if he can really do it….

*  Is musical that popular among the public?

*  This is a person, right?

*  I don’t know. An AI…? Sounds too difficult. or Okay! Let’s send an invitation. I’d like to learn a thing or two about ticketing. (If you want the email)

*  I thought you have something more important than tickets.

*  So long

17:45

*  Hey Yoosung…

*  LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

*  Wow… I wonder what it tasts like. Let me know after you try a sip, Yoosung!

*  Speak of the devil. LOLOL

*  Oh GOD7… Is it not too late to buy stocks?

*  Stocks come in 1+1? Smells fishy here…

*  Seven, didn’t you say your’re busy? Do you have time to do pranks like this?

*  He’s got a point lol

*  I’m not interested in your hobby, Yoosung.

*  Cooking?

*  LOL

*  Why don’t we now talk about GOD7’s dynamic business hobby? Give it up for Sevenstar Drink!

*  You’re too fishy…. Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.

*  …Police won’t be good enough to stop him. I should report his agency…

*  Sounds like an excuse to me.

*  You should first do what you have to do with classes and work… You don’t deserve to rest if you don’t.

*  Don’t waste your money on something like that.

*  It’s too late for you. Forget it.

*  That’s what the world wants us to do.

* I wish I could live without worrying about anything…

*  Dream is nothing but a mirage.

*  Since you’re giving advice…I assume you did your job well, Seven.

* Go back to work now.

*  Bye…

* You should think about what to do in the future and plan accordingly

*  He’s just…a different type of person from you.

*  You should find ESL tutoring class instead of whining.

*  Goodbye.

19:23

*  What was that? You screw up just now, didn’t you?

*  Looks like you’re full of faults.

*  Work harder. So that I can see you’re useful.

*  Okay. I’ll tell you, so first make sure you take care.

*  Are you sure the savoir trusts you?

*  I expect you to be better.

*  I’ll see what I can do and let you know whether I like it or not.

*  I also think that was a huge mistake.

*  Do your best

*  What is it?

*  I’m not going to get in trouble because of you, am I?

*  When does the elixir start to take effect?

*  Don’t tell me what to do.

* I don’t like the menu.

*  I’ll never leave you it you’re good enough.

* It’s a little cold.

*  Keep up the good work.

21:13

*  Welcome, Jumin.

*  This is rather depressing, since I’m stuck in between…

*  The hacker will win.

*  I think it’s a waste of time…

* Patience is the key…

* Don’t you think you might prick your finger if you do it in your car?

* I think it’s better for you to review documents than stitching.

* What you lost in time never comes back. You should always focus on your every second.

*  How did you get to know this person?

*  Why don’t we invite Pillow Love? or Is that what you’re going to use the unit for…? Oh dear…Jaehee… (If you want the email)

* Why don’t you start with cats?

*  That’s a simple naming…

*  Sayonara…

23:09

*  Are you still practicing, Zen?

*  His hobby is his to choose –

*  What’s your hobby, Zen?

*  Job = hobby for you…?

*  I think you should make a plan and practice accordingly.

*  Shouldn’t you just do it until you make it?

*  Why not ask Seven for help?

*  Yoosung looks so immature. Why don’t you lecture him a bit?

* I think he shouldn’t waste his time like that.

*  He’s living in a world where he has to be a hypocrite like others. I think I’d get mad if I were him.

* Whatever happens, I hope a person who hurts other will pay in the end.

* You should get to work!

* See you.

________________________________________________________________

Day 6:

00:55

*  I’ve been waiting!

*  That’s because you’re not working hard enough.

*  Isn’t tomrrow the rehersal? Are you sure you’ll be fine?

*  You’re nervous because you haven’t worked hard enough.

*  LOLOL!

*  You’re distracting Zen. Out!

*  Lolol Zen I think you’re distracted.

*  You didn’t even start your life outside of school. You already think life is pointless?

*  You should always watch your behavoirs and obey the rules.

*  The world is a dark place! Hopeless! With no light!

*  I think he still has a long way to go until he matures.

*  Oh, so this is the infamous…

*  Lololololol

*  What a repetition… It must have been boring.

*  So…is that darkness of yours…still there in your heart?

*  Think about how frustrated your parents will be with you.

*  …..

*  It’s bedtime for you.

*  Back to practice you go, Zen

* I think you’re better off alone.

*  Enjoy –

*  You’re not making excuses because you’re tired of practicing, are you…?

*  Have a good one.

03:17

*  I had something to do.

*  She said you need to do better than that.

*  I have a feeling I’ll get along with her well.

*  You’re not thinking anything funny, are you?

*  That’s a bit creepy.

*  I can drink it if I have to.

*  I think you’re weak.

*  Don’t make me hear such weak thoughts. I’m tired of them.

*  You’re pathetic…

*  Run along now.

* If you have time to show me this, you should work more on proving yourself.

*  You should go. Now.

07:40

*  I’m feeling gloomy…

*  Situation?

* Do we have a trouble or something?

*  Let’s hear it – !

*  Don’t you think it’s so alarmingly sudden?

*  V’s work must be awesome!

*  I think you should first contact V about this.

*  Maybe he wanted to get in touch with the prime minister for his grand personal plan…?

* What?

*  He seems to be rather in a hurry….

* I think you’re all being overdramatic here

* What a joy, but I think V wouldn’t even bat an eye at the news.

*  But he’s too high in the authorities. I’m getting nervous…

*  I wish we could bring the prime minister to the RFA. That will be… so fantastic

*  You do know you have less than a day till the rehersal, don’t you?

*  See you.

*  Maybe you should keep trying to reach him.

*  It’s no wonder. They’re childhood friends.

*  Congrats! The prime minister wants to buy your pictures

*  Well, I am getting a bit frustrated. Isn’t it about time…?

*  You should set the appointment now. Why don’t we bring him to the RFA?

*  I hope the prime minister could be one of us.

*  That’s just my opinion.

* I hope you consider bringing him to the RFA

* Yes…?

*  Who?

10:23

* Jumin – ! You’re seeing the prime minister today, aren’t you?

*  What a waste of few seconds of your life.

*  Do you think there’ any meaning in temporary leisure…?

*  But we can’t deny that social recognition comes before leisure. That’s unfortunate…

*  I think break and hobby are the same… They prove how lazy a person is.

*  I salute you, o wielder of life oh-so-empty…

*  The pure essence of darkness… Oh, the might power of puberty…

*  Don’t you think it’d be more lit…if the prime minister joins us?

*  You must be nervous!

*  You two shouldn’t get too involved in your hobbies and instead focus on your duties, with classes and work.

*  Does it matter whether if you tell them apart? It’s just another way of wasting your time.

*  …Anyways, I think slacking off is lazy and bad.

*  Don’t ask me something like that.

*  It’s a break when you do something without any thought. It’s a hobby when you use your head as you slack off.

*  His world is different from ours. No need to understand him.

*  That’s why we gotta choose our hobbies wisely.

*  I don’t know. I’m not really interested in his philosophy… or I’m curious about him. Why don’t we invite him to the part and hear more from him? (If you want the email)

*  I think hobbies are something out of our league. We should just balance work and break.

* Hmm…..

*  I think that’s possible because her job is still her No. 1 priority.

*  I don’t think parents are every wrong…

*  Jumin, you actually know what ‘fangirling’ means?

*  lololololololol

*  I hope you make yourself useful.

*  Do ask him about joining us…

*  I think you need to get a grip on yourself.

*  I don’t think this is the time for you to procrastinate.

*  I’m gonna finish what I’m doing!

13:10

* I’m skipping today –

* How was it?

*  The difference between talents isn’t something that can be overcome.

*  Tell me about it…. I wish his pictures would see at high prices.

*  How did your meeting go?

*  You mean V lost this golden opportunity?

*  I’m sure it’s related to that secret of his. Just what could it be?

*  He just can’t tell apart his personal life from his business life, can he?

*  Was the prime minster understanding?

*  I think V is ill. Both his body and mind seem weak.

*  I wouldn’t have let that opportunity slip away.

*  He could have had a new recruit!

*  Did you have a feel that V’s hiding something?

*  Then that would mean we can trust him…!

*  I wonder what he liked about V’s photos.

*  I don’t think discussions on politicians’ looks have any particular meaning.

*  I don’t know. I’ll side with the majority.

* I don’t think giant corporations will always assume the bad role in the economy, as long as there are good.

*  I’m not really interested in politics.

*  I didn’t know you were interesed in politics.

*  I’ll see you again, Jumin.

*  I think I’m close to conservative.

*  Hmm, not really interested. or Good idea. I’d like to learn couple things from him too. (If you want the email)

*  I’ll see you.

14:50

*  Hey hey hey Yoosung

*  You’ve barely done anything so far. I don’t think going to class will do any difference….

* I thought the only thing you do at night is playing games….

*  You said you’d do it. Now there’s no point if you’re not the best.

*  I thought you had a lot of thoughts the other day…..thinking about your dark, pointless life….

*  Why don’t we change the subject? ^^

*  Same here lol

*  He’s got looks, good social standing, authority…. I think he has everything.

*  V’s reason was kind of unreasonable….

*  I think you lost your concentration here.

*  Tomorrow’s the d-day for the rehersal.

* Don’t fall for such waste of time…..

*  Welcome, Seven.

*  Is there something wrong? It’s not related to the hacker, is it?

*  You’re not relatives with the prime minister, are you? lololol

*  I will…!

*  I’m sure he’ll manage.

*  I don’t think you have time to chat right now….

*  ….I don’t think it’ll be really helpful even if Yoosung goes to help you.

*  I’m not sure if this is a good idea….

*  Focus on your class. Now.

*  Now, back to your practices.

* A job is meant to be painful

*  I want you to think about how to improve your acting before you come back.

16:37

*  Why did you decline the offer for purchase?

*  ….I think it’s fishy that you declined.

*  Has anyone ever told you that the guilty tends to be talkative?

*  V, why didn’t you invite the prime minister to join the RFA?

*  Jumin, don’t you think that V and Seven…are really suspicious?

*  Considering the weight of the secret burdening V, I think it’s amazing that he’s performing this much as the head

*  Of course you feel complicated. You have too many secrets.

*  …It looks kind of dark.

*  At least there’s no doubt that flower doesn’t belong there…

*  ...I think you should plant the daffodil somewhere else for the sake of the small flowers. They will suffer

*  I think you’re being obsessive, V. I think the daffodil has reached a stage you can’t do anything about it….

* You should give up the daffodil. It will just ruin your garden.

*  No. Rather than throwing away a problem, I think you should try to fix it until the end.

*  Don’t you think we’d get to expect tomorrow because it can’t be predicted?

*  You should give up if you can’t solve it.

*  Come on, they don’t look alike at all.

*  Explain to me later on.

*  Do you honestly think….he really deserves the seat at the top of the RFA?

*  Does he…still miss Rika?

*  Tell him the solid truth!

*  I don’t know.

18:52

* I think he’s trying to run away from reality… It’s kind of irresponsible of him.

*  We should consider our audience’s state even when discussing truth, shouldn’t we….?

*  Uhm….I tend to say truth indirectly, so that I won’t hurt anyone….

*  Don’t you think you’re losing focus? I knew it….

*  Don’t you think you’ll get disappointed in yourself if you ruin this?

* I don’t think being good is always right.

*  Hello!

*  What kind of wine are you drinking?

*  I’ll say. I thought it’s easy.

*  You shouldn’t do that to your family.

*  I think everyone has evil within. You should awaken it, Zen.

*  But Zen would be the master of potrayting good Dr. Zekyll. That’s his area of expertise….

* You’re good-looking. I’m sure you’ll look good with whatever expression.

*  Nope he’s not.

*  lolololol

*  Is it your chief bodyguard?

*  I knew it. You so smart, Jumin.

*  Then tell him to send me an email! I’ll ask him. or I think he’ll just be busy working even if he attends the party…. Let’s just keep him working. (If you want the email)

*  Hard work matters.

*  Jumin, you’re leaving now?

*  Bye –

*  You sure are interested in Jumin a lot.

*  Go practice now.

*  Do your best.

20:49

*  Are you whining to me?

*  Aren’t you gonna work?

*  You don’t even desreve to get excited.

*  Do you even realize what the best really means?

* I wish you’d be different. I think you’re being a parrot here.

*  You’re such a freak.

*  You’re growing more pathetic the more I stay with you.

*  I was talking to be nice to you. But since you say no, I can’t help it.

*  You disappoint me every time….

*  Really? Anything?

*  So you’ll do whatever I tell you to do?

*  Again with the please… I’m getting tired of this.

*  You’re such an airhead. You’re so stupid.

*  Just go away. You’re annoying.

21:21

*  Welcome, Yoosung. Are you done with your classes?

* I don’t think that’s a dream…

*  A bad dream!

*  There’s barely a difference between love and hate.

*  This world is dominated by capitalists… This world is a chose where sentiments cannot last!

*  LOLOLOLOL

*  The sun will rise again tomorrow. As if nothing happened. Proving how small our troubles are….

*  Zen…are you sure you’ll find Yoosung helpful?

*  White is your responsibility. I don’t understand why you’d ask for help.

*  But beauty is something you’re born with…

*  That’s right… No one can dare to match your beauty, Zen.

*  But you should prepare for your future.

*  Zen, admit that you’re not good enough!

*  Narcissism doesn’t work with Yoosung the Sentimental.

*  Nope you can’t help him.

*  …This is tricky. Group project is another name for a little hell….

*  You’re doomed…

*  Are you gonna take this opportunity to master math?

*  Then I think he’ll know a lot of math tricks useful in real life lol

*  Oh! That’s good!

*  Sure. I think I want to ask him something about math. or I don’t know. I think he’ll be busy trying to hunt for clients at the party… (If you want the email)

*  Are you sure you enrolled in ones absolutely necessary?

*  You’re a perfect husband material…!

*  I think it’s because he didn’t get enough practice.

*  Zen do you think you can count on Yoosung’s advice…?

*  Make sure you don’t waste time…

*  You think that can chance anything…?

*  So there goes your sleep for the night.

Visual Novel #1:

* Who is it?

* (Open the door and check what’s outside)

* This is creepy. I hate someone like you

* I don’t need this. You should work If you have time to do this

* Why are you crying?

* Where are you going!?

23:19

*  Are you done with work?

*  Great work!!

*  Zen and Yoosung would be practicing, so other than those two… Probably…?

*  I think it’s better for him to do it alone…

*  You’re here? Don’t tell me the hacker’s loafing around…

*  So the fight isn’t over yet… I wish it’d be over quickly.

*  I think the hacker is being lazy.

*  I’m sorry I confused you a little here.

*  If this is something illegal, I’m reporting it.

*  And that hacker couldn’t beat you…? I think he’s no big deal.

*  Do you like cars that much?

*  …I knew it. You’re always up to something fishy.

*  You’re kind of weird. Seven, but since you’re talented…I’ll give you a pass.

*  I don’t think you have time to collect cars if you want to keep breathing.

*  …But having a suspicious job isn’t a good thing. I think you shouldn’t let others know.

*  I don’t know. That depends on how hard the hacker works…

*  A true love’s kiss?

*  You just won’t stop, will you…?

*  Seven…

*  This is reality…Don’t get your hopes too high.

*  I’d like to know who’d win!

*  Peace will only come after endless work.

*  Goodbye.

Visual Novel #2:

* (Go outside)

* My savior... Weren’t you going somewhere?

* I don’t like that face of yours

* This is boring now

>> BAD ENDING STORY 1 <<

________________________________________________________________

Ray Bad Relationship Ending 1:

1. Get into Ray’s route from 1 - 4 days in Another story

2. Don’t participate in the chatrooms from 5 - 6 days

Visual Novel #1 - Day 6 after chatroom at 21 : 21

* (Opens the door)

* Come in, Ray

* Thank you, Ray

* Ray

* Where are you going!?

Don’t participate in the last chatroom at 23 : 19 and unlock the branch.

Visual Novel #2:

* (Go outside)

* Who is it?

* Where is Ray?

>> BAD RELATIONSHIP STORY 1 <<

[buzrushcommunity]

Succeed Through Online Marketing

How Electronic Advertising and marketing Will Change: 17 Forecasts for 2020

Electronic advertising is not any unknown person to modifications.

Succeed Through Online Marketing - We have to stay on our toes if we want to stay relevant with the never ending changes to algorithms and regulations and part of that is positioning ourselves for success.

Precisely what is digital marketing planning to look like in 2020?

We experienced possessed 17 computerized entrepreneurs weigh into tell us what they see about the horizon, therefore we can all prepare accordingly and also a great season ofclicks and engagement, and sales.

Allow me to share 17 forecasts for electronic advertising and marketing in 2020.

Benton Crane, CEO of Harmon Brothers

Ad platforms (looking at you Facebook or twitter) continues to highlight shorter content material (needless to say, they want to offer more thoughts). Brief-type, nonetheless, limits what you can do to construct your company persona, voice, and world.

We foresee the profitable strategy may be to perform advertising chess, not checkers. In chess your parts have various strengths and weaknesses, whilst all checkers parts are identical. If you build up your web marketing strategy use a mixture of simple, medium sized, and lengthy-develop information. Don’t stop building your brand character, voice, and universe with longer-form content, although use the short-form content to appease Facebook’s algorithms.

Logan Fletcher, Content material Marketing Administrator

If you aren’t posting videos on social media, 2020 NEEDS to be the year you start, otherwise, you’ll get left behind, Succeed Through Online Marketing -.

Beyond that, we foresee a higher appearance of companies on social websites, since they try to create a technique that can help them purchase an advantage on opponents. Online video on sociable systems will probably continue being with the fore-front of effective methods.

Not only are B2B companies going to focus on creating video for LinkedIn, but they will also start to take notice of IGTV. With changes to Instagram’s algorithm formula, video clip placed on IGTV will go to the top of your followers’ rss feeds, and also be discovered much more prevalently on users’ investigate web pages. This will result in more movie prospects, a more substantial audience, and more advantages.

What different will we see in 2020? We believe that online marketers will begin focusing more on consumer demands, instead of “marketing requires.” Entrepreneurs will start responding to customers’ questions directly that will create campaigns that solution these inquiries. The only real individuals who actually make a difference are definitely the people who we want using our service or product. Refocusing what exactly is sent to customers will be a pattern in 2020 that many firms will not be capable of disregard.

Michelle Barnum Smith, AMZ Messenger Bot Group

The Amazon marketplace is consistently in flux. There are far more individual label retailers now than before as well as the marketplace may become much more competing. To stay in the video game, sellers really need to be tough and flexible.

Probably the most crucial methods to adjust is to possess a brand name-attitude. A product is not pretty much turning up having a individual merchandise-it’s about creating a local community of fervent buyers. The best and easiest method to start off is by using driving a vehicle your very own outside website traffic employing Talk Advertising and marketing tactics by way of ManyChat.

ManyChat tends to make chat advertising and marketing an omni-channel expertise. Now dealers can operate multichannel promotions through a single tool and reach their viewers in the most efficient techniques possible. Chitchat advertising will certainly make market developing, item establishing, and item advertising seamless for Amazon . com Dealers.

Tara Robertson, Director of Customer Marketing and advertising at Sprout Sociable

2020 is all about refinement. Brands not just need to focus on who they really are but moreover, the way they are different from competitors that will create remarkable experiences for customers. In ahead of time, online marketers will emphasis much more about becoming buyer obsessed by making certain each and every touchpoint is steady and purposeful. Supplying outstanding consumer experiences has stopped being a “nice to have,” but an hope-specifically as businesses aim to get noticed inside their saturated markets.

For that conclusion, there will be an increased desire for content and experience that favors high quality more than quantity. We are living in the age of authentic marketing along with the a lot more related and relatable your marketing and advertising is, the better dedicated your market can become. It is not simply regarding the new system, sophisticated AI, or even a powerful technology stack. The truth is, I actually think it will likely be the opposite.

We have to cut back time contemplating our automation plus more time considering the way you can connect with our buyers and each and every other. We expect far more customization than ever before as buyers and it is essential that marketing and sales crews fully grasp the and this need for connection.

Jenna Snavely, Creation Content Manager at DigitalMarketer

I talk to a lot of experts in the industry, as host of The DigitalMarketer Podcast. From all of the my podcast job interviews across the minimum year, the marketplace developments we have been viewing carefully at DM, and my own acquiring habits-I believe the easiest way to get support in 2020 (or maintain your steer) will be serialized consumable online video content.

It is a huge opportunity to outline your company sound and make a crowd, and the majority of importantly…it’s a way to more than-produce.

Manufacturers which do the difficult job, receive the payout.

Nathalie Lussier, Founding father of AccessAlly

Succeed Through Online Marketing - In 2020, I forecast that more men and women will carry on and “cut the cord” from cord and proceed to streaming options for their entertainment. It’s approximated that 45 mil men and women will depart their cable tv or satellite suppliers in 2020.

Exactly what does that pertain to digital marketing and advertising?

This means that as interest changes far from classic Television set advertising, more marketers will have to get innovative and find approaches to get to individuals on-line alternatively.

That may be the two a true blessing and a curse: It’s going to raise the cost of advertising on the hottest platforms like Facebook, YouTube, and Google, although it’s going to create more work for digital agencies.

Brand names may not be moving all their dollars to “pay for every click” advertising, they will often also up their content material advertising and marketing budgets in order to happen in social offers and chats, also! Content marketing organizations, be aware!

Splintering Community Platforms

For businesses that want to boost their communities on the internet (and who does not? ) there is an intensifying have to take acquisition of community place.

For many years the right spot to host a group has become via Facebook organizations. There is a great deal of growth and engagement on Facebook or twitter, because of an previously a built in habit (or possibly is it an dependency? !).

However, the tech giant has experienced some political and ethical backlash and more digital business owners are looking for alternatives.

I foresee that programs that permit you to generate neighborhood “on your very own turf” like Palapa, Mighty Sites, BuddyBoss, and Wp are going to see plenty of development.

However, as much as I see people building these networks outside of the Facebook ecosystem, those that have tried and failed say the the vortex is strong… and engagement isn’t as high.

So, there will likely be a splintering of communities across different platforms, and I suspect also a consolidation for those groups that don’t get enough traction off Facebook when they return.

Intensifying Polarization & Woke Advertising

So will the political polarization in 2020, as the planet’s climate continues to heat up.

Brand names can have an option to help make: remain neutral or have got a perspective.

The companies that stay higher than the fray will steer clear of the drama and the unpredictability that comes with going into the chat on everyone’s thoughts.

But those businesses that can genuinely share their point of view, will get long-term customer loyalty for being happy to place their ideals above short-run income. According to Cone Communications, 92% of consumers say they have a more positive image of a company when the company supports a social or environmental issue.

Yes, you will see drop out from businesses that embark on “woke marketing” and combine activism or national politics inside their message.

More businesses will be willing to put their reputations on the line to connect with Gen Z and Millennials who are more discerning about where they spend their hard earned dollars… and how it impacts the world at large. That is my prediction.

Rachel Pedersen, Chief executive officer in the Viral Touch And Social Media Marketing United

2020 is the 12 months the facade of flawlessly polished marketing burns and crashes. A lot of people happen to be burned up by influencers faking it with ideal photoshoots, and people are desperate for validity.

They will be looking for context outside of keynotes, as consumers get hungry for REAL answers. They are looking for signs and symptoms of congruency - proof that the favored individuals on systems are jogging the stroll.

In 2020 the internet marketer who supplies all-access, behind the curtain, contextual marketing is the winner. It is the entire year of humanized marketing.

Right here is how you can beat the band wagon internet marketers in 2020:

1.Tik. Tok: The clock is ticking. TikTok is actually a rare foundation that reveals a lot more measurements and permits audiences to adore your creative, impromptu and unpolished or UCG content.

2.Go live. Anywhere. Display the mayhem of getting prepared for an occasion with 3 kids when your baby provides the influenza along with your previous thoroughly clean outfit was *coughing* messed up.

3.Report your podcast in person situations. Enable your market to FEEL your life and surroundings with the mp3.

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[blancheludis]

A/N: @iron-man-bingo square: Morgan Stark

Fandom: Marvel, MCU Characters: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark Tags: Family, Fluff, Dad Tony, Tony Lives, post-Endgame Words: 2.284

Summary: Morgan Stark is seventeen and smart. She could have followed in her father's footsteps and skipped some grades to go to college early. Other than her father, however, her home has never felt like something she needs to flee from. She has always been loved. Sometimes that makes telling the truth all the harder.

"I don't want to go to MIT."

---

Morgan loves her father without doubt and she has never had reason to assume he does not love her either. Yet, Morgan has been standing outside his office for ten minutes, unable to go in.

It is a silly thing, to be afraid of a conversation. She carries the blood of both Starks and the legendary Pepper Potts inside her. Fear is not something that suits her, not without doing something about it.

“Boss is asking whether you plan to come in at some point,” FRIDAY speaks up, making Morgan flinch.

Considering that she grew up with the AI being a constant presence in her life, she should not be taken by surprise by a disembodied voice talking to her. It is all a question of focus, she guesses.

Instead of answering, Morgan gathers her courage and knocks on the door to the office.

“Come in,” comes the slightly sarcastic response from inside.

Her dad sits facing the door, immediately smiling when she comes into sight. He has gone completely grey over the past years, but his eyes never seem to grow old. They are still filled with the same kind of boundless love she has always seen in them. The same kind of inventive spirit, too. Her mum has bemoaned the fact that he has yet to spend any less time in the workshop. That is not entirely correct, Morgan knows. She stumbles over the two of them cuddled up on the porch often enough to know that her dad has learned to take breaks.

“Dad,” she greets, not quite able to pull up a smile of her own. The nerves in her stomach are making that impossible for now. “Can we talk?”

He sits up straighter but otherwise looks no less willing to listen. “Always,” he says and means it.

He points at the couch facing the desk, but when she does not move, he gets up and guides her to it, sitting down right next to her. Being this close to him does not actually make it easier to begin talking. Like this, she will see every bit of his reaction on his face, unable to hide from it.

Morgan Stark is seventeen and smart. She could have followed in her father’s footsteps and skipped a few grades to go to college early. Contrary to her father, however, her home has never felt like something she needs to flee from. She has taken her time, grown up loved with her entire extended family around.

But now she is seventeen and smart and afraid. Courage and rationalism are in her blood, but some things are harder to face than others, and the possibility, however small, of disappointing her father is the hardest of all.

Staring down at her clenched hands, Morgan takes a deep breath, then forces herself to look up.

“I don’t want to go to MIT.”

There it is. The words passed over her lips as if she has not been churning them over and over for weeks, months even. Now they are hanging between them, untouched for a long moment.

She looks very hard but does not see her father’s face changing. His eyebrow twitches a little in surprise, but his smile stays in place, never wavering.

“All right,” he says with the same nonchalance he uses when a design did not work on the first try and they have to try again. “I can imagine it’s daunting to think the professors might compare everything you do to your brothers’ work. There are other good colleges.”

Morgan does not think it matters where she goes. Everybody knows the Stark name. If not for the company then for the fact that her father saved the entire universe. That tends to be a recognizable feat.

“I know,” she says, then hesitates again and hating that she does. Her mother raised her better than this. “I don’t want to study engineering at all.”

The words feel like projectiles even though she speaks them softly, not wanting to hurt her dad. Although that seems impossible to avoid at this point. She knows he has had dreams about Peter, Harley and her pushing Stark Industries to new heights, to shape the future into something better than he ever thought himself capable of.

Well, Morgan is sure that Peter and Harley will still do that. They are already doing most of the work for the company, leaving Tony to tinker with his own projects, only speaking up when he thinks he has made something worthwhile for them to put on the market.

Only Morgan has yet to join their ranks – and she does not want to. She has known that for a while too, but thought the feeling would pass, leaving her not in the unfortunate position of bashing her dad’s dreams.

Tony looks confused for a moment, forehead crunched into a frown. “You don’t?”

He sounds so lost there that Morgan’s stomach cramps into a tight ball, threatening to steal her air. “I’m so sorry,” she presses out. “I didn’t know how to tell you, but now with you getting all the college applications for me I’m just –” She stumbles over the words, has to pause to swallow. “I mean, I can do a minor in engineering, but it’s not what I want to major in.”

Her eyes drop, ashamed of the way her voice has grown so weak, and unwilling to watch the heartbreak on her father’s face.

“But all the time we spent in the workshop together,” Tony says, trailing off. He sounds not yet hurt, just like he is still not understanding what she is saying.

“I know. I loved it,” she says hurriedly. Of all the things she had anticipated, she did not think of her dad immediately zeroing in on the fact that he has wasted hundreds of hours of guiding her through the work in the lab. “I really do, and I don’t want to stop building things with you.”

Some of her fondest childhood memories were made down in the workshop. Then again, she will remember her entire childhood fondly. That is the magic of having a loving family. Only now she is about to crush a big part of that.

“Morgan, honey,” Tony says and reaches out to tip up her chin so she has to look at him again. Even when his hand falls away, she keeps looking. His eyes are wide, not angry as much as almost afraid. “Are you telling me you were just coming to the workshop with me because you thought that’s what I wanted? Not because you liked it?”

All Morgan can do for a long moment is stare. The terror in her dad’s voice has her paralyzed. How is this what he took away from her refusal to follow his career choices?

“No,” she exclaims, too loud in her need to get it out. Softer but no less firm, she tries again. “Dad, no. Working with you is wonderful. The workshop is my favourite place in the house. It’s just –” She shrugs, feeling entirely helpless. “It’s not what I want to do with my life. I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I never told you.”

The ensuing silence is as absolute as it is short-lived. The worry does not disappear from Tony’s face, but his smile is back, less brilliant but just as honest.

“You could never disappoint me, honey,” he says, carefully intoning each word. Her doubt must still be visible on her face, because he shifts closer, takes her hand and holds them with an urgent gentleness. “I wouldn’t be disappointed even if you became an artist like Steve and spent the rest of your life drawing the same picture with the same three crayons. I mean, you’ve inherited my lack of artistic talent, so I’d recommend you reconsider, but I want you to do what you want.” Without dropping the smile, Tony’s face becomes serious, leaving no room for misinterpretation that he does not mean what he is saying. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I will always be proud of you, no matter what you’re doing.”

Moran believes him, but she is not sure whether that is because she so desperately wants to.

“But –” she tries to argue, not sure what she is going to say but convinced that she has to offer him a way out of the absolute statement he has just made.

“No buts,” Tony says, squeezing her hands. “I’ve got the boys to build crazy new things for me. And even without them, I’d never force you into a life you don’t want.”

“That’s – I’m –” Morgan stammers, but there is no escaping the fact that he means his words. “Thank you.”

Tony nods and lets go of her hands but looks anything but happy. “It feels like I’ve failed as a father if you worried about this.”

Her dad, Morgan knows, is full of doubt, second-guessing his every step. It never felt that way when she spent time with him because he was always her safe place. Growing older, though, there was no more hiding from the fact that he has a lot of regrets, a lot of untraveled paths he thinks about.

Uncle Happy had reassured her once that, no matter what regrets her dad might have, he would not change anything since it brought her into his life. Morgan is her father’s ultimate gift. As far as reassurances about being loved go, this left her with little to no doubts about that. At the same time, it also brought its own kind of pressure.

“You’re the best father,” Morgan says and she has never meant anything more than this. She cannot imagine she could have had a better life with anyone else.

“Well,” Tony says, his smile turning brighter again, “you’re the best daughter so you made it very easy for me.” They share a smile, and it is only when he keeps talking that Morgan realizes that her reasons to worry are not quite over. “Now, do you want to tell me what you’re going to do? I need to know whether I have to buy crayon stocks.”

Feeling heat rush into her cheeks, Morgan bites her lips. She hesitates, even though there is still nothing but warmth on her dad’s face.

“Medicine,” she says quietly, almost as if she hopes he would not hear it and not ask for clarification either. “I talked to Dr. Cho and she has agreed to let me intern with her over the summer.”

Medicine is a respectable field, she knows that, but it is one of the squishy sciences, or so she has heard her father and brothers joke. It feels like she is trading up the chance to save the world, one genius invention at the time, for helping individuals on a much smaller scale. She has been taught to think big and it is like she is regressing from that.

She need not have worried, for her father’s face brightens further.

“That’s great,” he exclaims as if going to medical school has been the plan all along. “Helen does so much good. You will learn loads from her.”

He sounds genuinely excited for her, and yet Morgan has to ask, “You’re not angry?”

“Never.” Tony says, leaving no room for argument. Morgan wishes she had that much conviction for anything. “Well,” he then amends with half a grin, “who knew before me?”

“Mum,” Morgan replies sheepishly. “And Peter. They both told me it’s stupid to worry about your reaction, but that was easy for them to say. It’s just –”

Tony looks like he is going to have a serious conversation with his wife about this later, about letting him run into this without warning. But when he looks at Morgan, his face is filled with nothing but love.

“You will be the best doctor, just you wait and see,” he says, sounding like she has already done something to be proud of. “You will do more good in the world than I ever could.” It does not seem to matter to him that he brought half of the universe back from the dead, a feat that is hard to top. “Now, do you already have a college in mind? I’m afraid I’ll have to do some research before I can offer a meaningful opinion.”

“You’ll help?” Morgan asks before she can stop herself. Her dad does not look any less excited about the prospect of medical school than he was about engineering colleges.

“See if you can stop me,” he sniffs but keeps a close eye on her. “I want you to be happy. That’s all. The rest will fall into place.”

Finally, Morgan feels the worry sitting in her stomach dissipate. There is no doubt that her dad means what he says. Later, she will tell Peter and gladly suffer his litany of I told you sos. For now, she shifts forward, sinking into her dad’s embrace, his arms opening for her immediately.

“Thank you, Dad.”

Without seeing his face, she knows he is smiling. There is a warmth to his embrace that has her feeling like the entire world is rearranging itself to accommodate her, like nothing can go wrong.

“Promise me you’ll never be afraid to tell me anything again?” he murmurs into her hair. “I love you, Morgoona. I’ll never love you any less. Only ever more.”

There is nothing to do but believe him. It is the same for her, after all. In this family, no one gets left behind. They might be chaotic and messy and loud, but they all love each other.

“I love you too, Dad.”

[continuations]

Universal Basic Income: An Introduction

Here is the text of a speech I gave at the 72nd Annual NYU Labor Conference, which this year was on AI and Automation.  Unfortunately there is no recording - I stuck relatively closely to this, but didn’t read it.

----------

Universal Basic Income: An Introduction

Thank you for the opportunity to speak to this audience about Universal Basic Income. I am approaching this topic from the perspective of a venture investor who backs companies that automate tasks ranging from image recognition to medical diagnosis, as well as someone who has thought and written about automation for nearly three decades going back to my undergraduate thesis on automated trading in 1990.

For anyone unfamiliar with the term Universal Basic Income or UBI, it refers to a payment to every citizen that is unconditional, i.e. paid independent of employment status or income. A commonly used number is a monthly payment of $1,000 per adult and less per child. The idea for such a scheme in the United States is quite old and an early mention can be traced all the way back to Thomas Paine’s 1795 pamphlet on “Agrarian Justice.” Proponents over the years have come from all over the political and ideological spectrum, ranging from Milton Friedman to Martin Luther King Jr.

If I have done my math correctly, the first Annual NYU Labor Conference took place in 1947 at what we can now recognize as the beginning of the golden era of the Industrial Age. A period that lasted for 40 some years during which market based economies produced exceptional growth with the benefits shared between capital and labor. For the last twenty plus years, however, the benefits of growth have accrued primarily to the owners of capital in what has become known as the great decoupling, which is attributable to the twin effects of automation and globalization.

Given this impact of automation on labor it is not surprising that this section of the conference has the word “Mitigation” in its title. UBI is often positioned defensively: “Automation will take away your job, but here is some money.” This framing is deeply problematic. At best it makes UBI appear like another welfare policy and at worst it carries a ring of “opium for the people” -- a way of keeping the working population docile while capitalists get richer.

How then should people think about UBI? In my book World After Capital, I refer to it as “Economic Freedom.” Why? Because UBI massively increases individual freedom. It provides a walk away option from a bad job, a bad spouse or relationship, even from a bad city. As such it also provides new found bargaining power in the labor market for the roughly 40% of Americans who are part of the precariat. At its most fundamental, UBI makes people free in how they allocate their time. They can choose to work and make more money or they can choose not to and instead spend their time on friends and family, or art, or science, or politics, or the environment, or any of the millions of things humans do outside of the labor market.

There is another crucial distinction between the defensive, mitigation framing and the offensive, freedom framing of UBI. The former implies that we are stuck in the Industrial Age, whereas the latter carries the possibility of a new age, which I call the “Knowledge Age” in my book. The defining characteristic of the Industrial Age isn’t “industry” -- as in manufacturing -- rather it is the job loop: people sell their labor and use their income to buy “stuff” (goods and services), which in turn is made by people selling their labor.

Employment in agriculture declined from 90% of all jobs in 1780 to below 3% today. This change is often taken to show that we successfully replaced agricultural jobs with other jobs and that we can and should do so again now: automate existing jobs only to replace them with new and different jobs and thus stay in the job loop of Industrial Age. But that reading shows a lack of imagination. A different interpretation is that something that once occupied the bulk of human attention, producing enough food to feed the population, has been reduced to an afterthought.

Well, what occupies the bulk of our attention today? The job loop. Paid labor. If we succeed in enabling automation to its fullest extent, if we succeed in transitioning into the Knowledge Age, then 100 years from now we will have done to paid labor what we did to agriculture. A reduction from something that occupies 80 percent or more of human attention today, to something that’s barely noticeable.

It is crucial that we free up human attention now because too many important problems are going unsolved. The market based system has been so successful that it has solved the problems it can solve, leaving us with the ones it cannot. Prices do not and cannot exist for events that are rare or extreme. There is no price for a human finding their purpose. There is no price for preventing an asteroid impact. There is no price for averting a climate catastrophe. Because we are relying on the market to allocate attention, we are paying far too little attention to these crucial issues and far too much attention to making money and spending it on stuff.

UBI then is a central pillar of a new social contract that enables a transition to the Knowledge Aga, a transition that is as profound as the one from the Agrarian Age to the Industrial Age. What replaces the job loop? In World After Capital, I suggest that the answer is the Knowledge Loop, in which we learn, create and share knowledge -- broadly defined to include not just science but also art and music.

Now of course there are many objections to UBI. Most of these, such as people spending money on drugs, or an immediate collapse in the supply of labor, are easily dismissed by the evidence from UBI trials around the world going back to the famous 1970s Mincome experiment in Canada, all the way to the currently ongoing Kenya study by Give Directly. There is also indirect evidence that contradicts these objections, such as the by now well documented benefits to the Native American population from casino licenses.

I will therefore focus on two objections, one practical and one philosophical, that are not so readily addressed by the available evidence.

The practical objection that looms largest is that UBI is simply not affordable. Almost every analysis that comes to this conclusion makes two mistakes. First, looking at a gross instead of net expenses. Second, examining payments from a fiscal perspective only.

The gross expenses in the United States would amount to something like $3.3 trillion or roughly the same as all Federal revenues. Net expenses, however, would be quite a bit smaller. In conjunction with introducing a UBI, it is crucial to modify the tax code so that income tax is paid starting with the first dollar earned. A large fraction of the population that is currently not paying federal income tax, Mitt Romney’s infamous 47% remark, would instantly owe some amount of income tax. And of course for people already paying taxes the net transfer is also smaller. At a 35% flat tax rate on all income, whether from labor or capital gains, as well as eliminating various deductions, the net expense required for a UBI is on the order of $1.5 trillion. And this is a completely static calculation which does not assume any GDP growth benefits of UBI, which have been estimated as high as $2 trillion dollars.

$1.5 trillion in new expenses still sounds like an impossibly large amount. But with a UBI in place it becomes possible to eliminate some programs such as food stamps and TANF entirely and modify other programs, such as Social Security, for savings on the order of $500 billion. Now to cover the remaining $1 trillion there are various proposals worth considering including a carbon tax, a financial transactions tax and a VAT -- the latter being favored by 2020 Democratic presidential candidate Andrew Yang. Some combination of these could cover the entire remaining $1 trillion.

But we should also consider a fundamentally different approach to implementing a UBI. I am talking about moving from fractional to full reserve banking, something that has historically been favored by economists from the Austrian school, as well as by Milton Friedman, whom I previously mentioned as a UBI advocate. Since the 2008 financial crisis, we have created annually on the order of $500 billion in M2 money supply. This money creation in a full reserve banking system would be possible as direct payments into citizens’ UBI accounts. Instead of letting commercial banks decide where newly created money enters the economy, it would enter equally for everyone. That would make it harder for someone like myself to get a mortgage for a second or third home, but would make it possible for many people to afford a first one.

At the $500 billion annual level we are simply matching the current money supply growth, which has not been inflationary. It is, however, possible to fund more and potentially all of UBI that way instead of via taxation. Wouldn’t that result in inflation? Won’t prices simply go up to offset the new money created? If we wanted to fund more of UBI that way we would have to also institute some form of demurrage, for instance through negative interest rates. Doing so will become much more readily possible with “programmable money,” a better term for what is often referred to as crypto currencies.

All in all though the key takeaway here should be that through some combination of changes in the tax code, elimination and modification of existing welfare and social programs, and some new taxes and/or changes to the banking system, it is entirely possible to finance a UBI. The fact that this is possible shouldn’t be surprising, seeing how even at the gross expense level of $3.3 trillion, a UBI represents only 15% of GDP.

Now on to the philosophical objection. This is the claim that removing the need to work in order to earn a living robs people of their purpose. While strongly held today, this view of human purpose would strike people from other time periods such as the middle ages or antiquity as absurd. They would have answered that human purpose is to follow the commandments of religion, to be an upstanding community member or to be a philosopher.

Why is it so difficult for us today to disentangle our job from our purpose? Well we have spent the last two hundred years or so telling people from practically the day they are born that finding and succeeding at a job is their purpose. It is deeply woven into our culture as part of the protestant work ethic. And it has become the singular goal of education. The current obsession with STEM education is not because of the need to solve difficult problems, such as climate change, but rather because of a belief that people with a STEM degree will find a better job. This of course should not come as a surprise as the modern education system was designed for the Industrial Age. So education too is something we will have to change.

By now you might say that clearly I must be crazy. I want to introduce a UBI, revise the tax code substantially, even alter how money is created in the economy and change the education system to boot? Any one of these seems impossible, let alone all of them together.

We can’t change this much. And yet we have done so twice already. After living as foragers for millions of years — 250,000 of those as Homo sapiens — we changed everything when we transitioned into the Agrarian Age roughly 10,000 years ago. We went from migratory to sedentary, from flat tribes to highly hierarchical societies, from promiscuous to monogamous-ish, from animist religions to theist ones. Then again only a couple hundred years ago we changed everything when we transitioned from the Agrarian Age to the Industrial Age. We moved from the country to the city, we switched from  living in large extended families to living in nuclear families or no family at all, we went from lots of commons to private property (including private intellectual property), we even changed religion again going from great chain of being theologies to the protestant work ethic.

Each of these massive changes in how humanity exists were in response to a huge shift in our technological capabilities. Agriculture allowed us to create artificial food supply. Industrial technology allowed us to create artificial power. And digital technology now allows us to create artificial intelligence. Digital technology is as big a change in our capabilities as those two prior ones, it is not simply a continuation of the Industrial Age. We should expect to have to change everything rather than getting away with a few incremental patches here and there.

In conclusion: UBI is not a mitigation measure, keeping us trapped in the Industrial Age. UBI is a necessary, but not a sufficient, enabler of the Knowledge Age. We need to change pretty much everything else about how we live as well, including education, healthcare, the intellectual property regime, and much much more.

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

Snowed In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1466

Warnings: mutual pining and swear words

A/N: If you want to be tagged in other works, send me an ask

The mission had gone exceptionally well, strictly recon, three days max. They were on their way home when an unexpected storm hit, buffering the quinjet every which way. Friday had told you that Tony had a private ski lodge in which you could wait out the storm which was getting bigger by the minute. Neither you or Bucky even had to think about it as you told the AI to take you there.

The jet touched down just outside the solid stone structure just half an hour later with you and Bucky grabbing your bags and making a mad dash up the front porch steps and into the lodge.

Inside, it was rustically furnished, with exposed wooden ceiling beams, a large stone fireplace and fur blankets over the back of the overstuffed chairs and sofas. The kitchen was state of the art, fitted with a walk-in pantry, stocked to the brim, and every appliance known to man. There was a small study with lots of bookshelves covering the walls and completely filled with books from almost every genre imaginable. There were a few separate bedrooms, each with their own bathroom and walk-in closet.

You and Bucky chose rooms opposite each other and went your separate ways to go clean up, before meeting back in the living room, the fireplace already roaring from the moment you stepped inside, thanks to Tony who thought it important to install Friday in all of his homes and safe houses around the world.

After a warm bath and changing into a comfy pair of leggings and a sweatshirt you felt much better. You set up the laptop and called the compound while Bucky wandered into the kitchen to make some food. Soon enough, Tony's face popped up onto the screen, along with the rest of your teammates. "Hey, guys! So I have good news and bad news; the good news is that the mission was a success; the bad news is that we got caught in a snowstorm and we don't know when we'll make it back," you inform them.

"We know about the storm, it's hitting here too, and Friday told us that you guys landed at the ski lodge. We're just glad you're okay, we'll see you in a few days." Steve says before anyone else can, earning him a very disgruntled look from Tony. Before anyone can say anything further, the video feed cuts out. "Steve? Guys?" she asks before groaning, "Dammit!"

"What's wrong?" Bucky asks, poking his head out of the kitchen. "The signal just cut out, because of the storm, we can't get in touch with the team, so we're on our own until it passes." She sits back, massaging her temples as the beginnings of a stress-headache start to emerge. He sits down next to her, patting her knee awkwardly. "It's not that bad, I can think of worse places to be stuck in, and the company makes it more bearable too." He gives her a shy smile which she slowly returns.

The truth was that this was sort of a dream come true for y/n, but she would never let anyone know that. She had been crushing on Bucky Barnes ever since he first set foot in the compound, he sometimes reminded her of a little, lost puppy, but at others, he could make a tomato blush with his flirting.

But right now, this was a nightmare, because he didn't feel the same way about her; because he had a girlfriend now. She plasters a smile on her face and says in a too cheery voice, "You're right, why don't you relax and I'll go finish dinner?" Before he even has time to respond she is already up and out of the room. He lets out a quiet sigh, "One day I'll tell her, one day..."

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening, y/n tried to avoid Bucky as much as possible. He seemed to sense that she did not want to talk, so he left her alone, going up to his room after dinner with a book he had brought with him.

Y/N lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep with her head full of images of a certain supersoldier sleeping in the next room. The digital clock on the bedside table told her it was 11 o clock. With a heavy sigh, she threw the blankets from her body and crept down the hall intending to make some hot chocolate to help her sleep.

But that plan flew out the window when she stepped into the living room and saw the very subject of her wayward thoughts sitting in front of the fireplace. She let out an involuntary squeak, but before she could flee, he turned around and gave her a soft, albeit sad smile. "I couldn't sleep," he says in his deep timbre voice.

"Would-would you like some hot chocolate? I was just going to make some..." she says nervously as she makes her way to the kitchen. "I would love some."

She gives a small nod then busies herself pulling the right ingredients from the cupboard while humming carols to herself. In the living room, Bucky smiles to himself as he recognizes the tune of Let It Snow.

She had just placed the finishing touches of whipped cream, cinnamon, and peppermint candy cane stirrers in the mugs when he silently came up behind her. "That's actually one of my favorite songs." The sudden voice startles her since she didn't hear him walking.

She turns around with a tight-lipped smile. "Mine too." After an awkward pause, she continues, "Kim probably misses you, it is your first Christmas together, after all. I'm sorry you're stuck here with me instead of being with her," she turns back to grab her mug, giving her the opportunity to discretely wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Actually, Kim and I broke up a few weeks ago," he says candidly to which she whirls back around, incredulous. "What? Why?" the words are out before she can stop them and she feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

He leads her over to the couch before saying, "She said some things that I didn't like and when I called her out on it she got insulting and defensive, so I told her to pack her bags and leave, I'm done with her. No one gets to talk crap about my friends and get away with it."

"Oh, Bucky...I'm so sorry." Her hands itched to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but she wasn't sure if he would be okay with that, so she clutched her mug tighter.

"It's okay, she was kind of a bitch anyway. It just took me way too long to realize it. Besides, I think the only reason I started seeing her in the first place was to distract me from my feelings for someone else, someone so wonderful and completely out of my league that I never even tried to give it a shot." he shrugs and it sent a shot of pain through her heart to know that this incredible man with a heart of the purest gold thought that a girl was out of his reach. It made her want to throttle this person and tell them to open their eyes to the angel right in front of them.

"Well, for what it's worth, that girl doesn't know how lucky she is." She gave him a sad smile to which he huffed out a laugh. "You don't get it, y/n, I'm talking about you, I'm crazy about you doll. I know that this is probably the worst time to tell you this, but I just had to let you know. I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, I guess I'll leave you alone now..." he stands to leave, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy stuck in the rain.

He had not gone more than a few steps before she cried out, "Bucky, wait!" Just as he turned around, she slammed into his arms and pulled him down into a soft, yet passionate kiss. His lips felt perfect against hers, as soft as she always thought they would be, yet firm and determined in their quest to melt their mouths together. When their lungs started burning with the heat for air they parted just enough to suck in the much-needed oxygen, yet they kept their foreheads pressed together.

"I'm crazy about you too," she whispered, her heart bursting with affection for the sweet man before her. Neither knew what the future held, but at that moment, with snow falling gently around the cabin, neither cared, all that mattered was the person in their arms.

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