#atm security system

[securens-systems]

Securens offers advanced ATM security systems designed to protect financial institutions against theft and vandalism. Our innovative solutions include real-time monitoring, rapid response teams, and cutting-edge technology to ensure the highest level of security for ATMs, keeping your assets safe.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[errorid-mt7lt7k7unfr9ttfua5]

me when companies try to force you to use their proprietary software

anyway

Layperson resources:

firefox is an open source browser by Mozilla that makes privacy and software independence much easier. it is very easy to transfer all your chrome data to Firefox

ublock origin is The highest quality adblock atm. it is a free browser extension, and though last i checked it is available on Chrome google is trying very hard to crack down on its use

Thunderbird mail is an open source email client also by mozilla and shares many of the same advantages as firefox (it has some other cool features as well)

libreOffice is an open source office suite similar to microsoft office or Google Suite, simple enough

Risky:

VPNs (virtual private networks) essentially do a number of things, but most commonly they are used to prevent people from tracking your IP address. i would suggest doing more research. i use proton vpn, as it has a decent free version, and the paid version is powerful

note: some applications, websites, and other entities do not tolerate the use of VPNs. you may not be able to access certain secure sites while using a VPN, and logging into your personal account with some services while using a vpn *may* get you PERMANENTLY BLACKLISTED from the service on that account, ymmv

IF YOU HAVE A DECENT VPN, ANTIVIRUS, AND ADBLOCK, you can start learning about piracy, though i will not be providing any resources, as Loose Lips Sink Ships. if you want to be very safe, start with streaming sites and never download any files, though you Can learn how to discern between safe, unsafe, and risky content.

note: DO NOT SHARE LINKS TO OR NAMES OF PIRACY SITES IN PUBLIC PLACES, ESPECIALLY SOCAL MEDIA

the only time you should share these things are either in person or in (preferably peer-to-peer encrypted) PRIVATE messages

when pirated media becomes well-known and circulated on the wider, public internet, it gets taken down, because it is illegal to distribute pirated media and software

if you need an antivirus i like bitdefender. it has a free version, and is very good, though if youre using windows, windows defender is also very good and it comes with the OS

Advanced:

linux is great if you REALLY know what you're doing. you have to know a decent amount of computer science and be comfortable using the Terminal/Command Prompt to get/use linux. "Linux" refers to a large array of related open source Operating Systems. do research and pick one that suits your needs. im still experimenting with various dispos, but im leaning towards either Ubuntu Cinnamon or Debian.

[sixth-light]

https://x.com/csoandy/status/1814252032884146636

good commentary on the crowdstrike incident

Yes, this is good technical commentary. It's noticeable that different companies have had very different levels of difficulty managing the incident and preparation will certainly have played a role, along with the timing and the number and distribution of systems.

For the less technical (because I've noticed some confused reblogs): Crowdstrike is an enterprise-level, i.e. for large organisations managing many computer systems, set of antivirus tools. It is very good - this is why many, many large organisations with high security needs (such as banks and airlines) use it. Since it defends against malware and viruses, its tools are constantly receiving automatic updates.

About eighteen hours ago, one of those automatic updates accidentally blue-screened Windows machines and servers worldwide that had one particular Crowdstrike tool installed. This was quickly deemed to be fixable without too much hassle, except for one really major issue: individual systems need someone with technical expertise to start them up *directly, in person* in order to be fixed. Imagine you're an airline with computers at every airport. A bank with ATMs nationwide. A retail chain with computers in every store...

Anyway, this is going to take some organisations a while to fix. It is extremely, extremely fixable! But it's gonna take a minute. And some of the orgs not directly affected are reliant on other ones which are. So yeah, soz to IT teams everywhere about their weekend.

[wasongo]

I think I got a lot of new followers recently because twitter keeps going to shit. However, as you probably know I can't and don't post nsfw art here.

You can find my NSFW socials on my pinned post. I think a lot of people are hesitant to join platforms which aren't fully available to the public yet but if you'd like to keep up with my nsfw art I'd like to:

Urge you to visit my website and subscribe to my RSS feed for gallery updates!

Suggest you follow me on either Pillowfort or Cohost (18+).

In the last year I have started using PF and Cohost more than Mastodon, as they've implemented new features and their posting system is more in line with what I enjoy: robust tagging and filtering, ability to post MANY images, and readmores for long posts.

If you've been hesitant to join either of those platforms since you don't know what to expect here's a small-ish review of both purely from my experience as someone who: a) enjoys profile customization b) likes to have an organized art gallery that is filterable by tags.

This review is aimed at artists looking for NSFW spaces to post! UI screenshots might have suggestive terms and images. Proceed with caution.

Edit: Good grief tunglr, if you open this on the web dash the images aren't shown in the neat galleries I put them in to make the post shorter. Head on over to the permalink if you'd like a better looking post!

Let me just say that if you're looking for a review on more technical aspects of these platforms, like security and moderation policies. I'm not your guy. You'll have to look elsewhere for that. I'm focusing on QoL UI and community aspects.

Though both these platforms allow nsfw, please make sure to read their ToS/Community Guidelines for rules on what is and isn't allowed. Though as far as I'm aware they have pretty similar rules.

Pillowfort

Overview::

Pillowfort has more years under its belt being available to users than Cohost does, as such I THINK the artist/fandom userbase atm is larger, which means you might see more activity there. UI as of right now is very comfortable and the site runs pretty smoothly. Loading times are very decent. Posting is easy, though the image uploader is a little wonky (they are working on fixing this). You are able to create and manage communities based on interests or themes, which people can follow or join and all post in the same space. You can personalize your profile by adding images, links, and formatted text to your sidebar, as well as customize your own profile colors. Tag searches in my experience yield results of both art and aesthetic irl porn and gifs. If that's something you miss from ye olden tumblr days it might be worth a look.

Pros:

Posts have privacy options (everyone, logged in, followers, mutuals, only me)

Has a DM system

Posts have Commentable, Rebloggable, NSFW toggle

Can post MANY images on a single post

Readmore feature for long posts

Robust tagging system

Robust filtering system: hide or click-through warning (by installing Tassel userscript only)

Customizable profile colors, Light/Dark mode for whole website

Communities you can follow/join for shared interests

You can filter posts on profile by tag

You can filter posts on profile by "original poster" or "reblog"

Cons:

wonky image uploader, cannot upload multiple images at once

Cannot search for multiple tags at once

Search for terms with periods in them is currently broken (ex. "D.Gray-man" will not yield any search results)

Communities have few moderation features atm

Without Tassel installed the filtering system is pretty garbage atm (you can either show or hide nsfw or filtered tags completely, with no click-through warnings)

No multiple account/side blog feature yet

Some inline image formatting options are broken atm

Default endless scrolling

No progressive web app for mobile atm

For a more in depth explanation of PF's UI and features you can check out this official post.

Here are some images of the UI.

---

Cohost

Overview::

Cohost feels like it has a small artist/fandom userbase at the moment. However, to make up for that it has a pretty slick UI, it works great as a progressive web app on mobile, and it recently implemented an ASK system similar to tumblr's! Everything loads pretty quickly, and you can switch between your "latest posts" feed and your "bookmarked tags" feed. You can access your likes as a bookmark system, but as a whole "notes" and engagement numbers except for comments are not visible anywhere (this is wonderful for my personal mental health). It has a simple post editor and though the image uploader only allows 4 images that will load with lightbox, there's a workaround to upload MANY inline images if you want. The catch is you'll need to use a bit of markdown or html to do that. (more on that below) Though you can't personalize your profile colors, you can add personality to your page by making very cool pinned posts and adding images to your sidebar.

Pros:

Animated avatars! (listen i like having my animated komui icon)

You can make multiple "pages" (blogs) which function independently for comments/asks. switching between pages is effortless

Ask system, with anon toggle (you cannot reply privately atm tho)

2 Factor Authentication

Progressive web app for mobile works like a charm

You can preview your post before you post it

Posts have a NSFW toggle and you can save drafts

Can post MANY images in a single post (bit of a workaround as you'll need to upload your images to a draft first and then add them to a new post with some markdown or html code)

Readmore feature for long posts

Robust tagging AND filtering system (show, click-through, hide completely), plus CW system to give your posts additional click through warnings you deem necessary

You can do incredibly cool things with HTML and inline CSS on your posts

You can filter posts on profile by tag, and you can have pinned tags

Toggles for hiding reblogs, replies, and asks on profiles

Paginated browsing instead of endless scrolling (things load faster)

No engagement numbers visible ANYWHERE

Cons:

Image uploader does not let you upload multiple images at once. Limit to 4 images (can upload more as inline images with code)

Advanced post formatting (ex. bold, italics, bullet list, inline images etc.) has to be done through markdown or html + css which is not the friendliest for those who don't know any code (there's a button for a markdown cheatsheet when you post tho!)

No dark mode, or customizing profile colors atm (however there are workarounds to changing site colors with Stylus extension)

Cannot search for multiple tags at once

Cool things you can do with CSS on your posts might look very bad on mobile

Since you can do some crazy things with CSS on posts, you might come across eye straining visuals and movement on some posts. There are settings to tone this down, and people are pretty good about tagging things, so with some good filtering you should be able to avoid this however.

A little quieter on the artist/fandom front (but we can change that)

Here are some images of the UI.

If you made it to the end of this review thanks for giving it a look! If there's something vital you might want to know that I missed in regards to UI and posting features let me know and I will try to answer. But again, this is not a technical/security issues/bugs review so don't ask me about that.

Lastly, I've been seeing a handful of NSFW artists I follow on twitter hopping on bluesky. I REALLY suggest you do a little research on the owners and platform to see if you think joining is worthwhile, since I have a feeling many artists might not want their alternative to be a site owned by crypto advocates (and also a billionaire). Some basic research will get you there. Just take heed and use your best judgement. On that note Cohost is strictly against crypto (I'm guessing PF might be too but I don't have a link that I can point you to confirming this atm).

I believe community driven and supported platforms are the way to go. If you end up thinking either of these two places are worth your time, do consider getting your friends and favorite artists on board or supporting them! You'll get added perks on both platforms if you become a supporter. PF recently added the ability to have MULTIPLE AVATARS (PFPs I think they're called nowadays) which I think is super cool (i really miss that from LJ days).

Again, thanks for reading and I hope to see some of you there!

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Transference Ch 2

inspired by @scealaiscoite 's touch-starved prompts

TW: First aid on bad wounds, uhhh swearing? cuz Danny should get to say fuck, can't think of anything else atm, if u want a better list follow the Pt 1 link to my Ao3

Go gently friends,

~Ren

Pt 1

Danny wants to pull this plane apart. He would do it happily! With a little extra enthusiasm. He wants to remove panels to see the guts, how the wires connected and weaved together to put this wonder together. What gave the engine that quiet whisper of a purr that even with Danny’s dialed up senses he could barely hear it? Was it made out of special metal? A plane used in vigilante missions must have been reinforced with special materials in case of impact or a crash. Who oversaw the maintenance? Danny wanted to meet the person who regularly got elbows deep in the bowels.

How many special security measures did it have? Since this was Batman’s plane probably more than Danny could think of. How many secrets did it guard? This plane probably had access to some very dangerous information, so one would assume it was a target. The plane was vulnerable being left unattended wherever they were. With the vigilante’s away on their mission their rogues could play. Danny knew firsthand with his own rogues. Was the plane on the same network as the Batcave? It had to be right? At least the comms? Was it in case they had to share updates on confidential files between locations? Danny’s fingers itch to get his hands on the controls, examine the programming, maybe find a systems list. 

He can’t see the plane that well yet, but he can feel it hum under his feet. The soft vibration works its way up his body-it’s nice, he decides, to be able to focus on figuring out what exactly was running down below rather than his brother collecting a number of things before moving behind him. Danny was close enough to the wall that his fingers traced along barely there seams between the smooth, cool to the touch metal. He wouldn’t know how durable it is unless someone told him what the material was, but the likelihood of them divulging their secrets was very low, if nonexistent. 

Still Danny was free to wonder, no one could restrict his thoughts. What kind of weapons systems did it have? Surely there must be a bathroom. Regular planes had those small ones, if Danny’s experience with Vlad’s displays of wealth told him anything, the obnoxiously rich liked to embellish their already expensive things with expensive add-ons. Danny can’t yet see how big the cabin is, but he’s perched on some sort of cot. He must be in some sort of medical treatment area that the Bats use when they get injured on missions and there is no doctor readily available. 

If things go well after his eyes are healed maybe his father would let him take a look around? (They currently were itching something fierce as they slowly healed.) 

The parallel between the Fentons and Bruce Wayne’s intelligence was not lost on Danny, and he cannot help but feel so heart wrenchingly fond.  He has had a lifetime habit of collecting parents that have made brilliant vehicles. 

(He ached for the time before the portal when he was close with the family that took him in, when that GAV was simply an RV to take deep in the woods and lay out a blanket on the hood or roof to watch the stars, talking about the possibility of something more out there.)

Danny can’t stop his flinch from where Nightwing had accidentally rubbed too hard along the edge of his shoulder. “Hey Bud?” Nightwing calls out, “Lookin at your back, well, some of the tissue has started dying,” The man genuinely sounded upset about it, did he not know? “it’ll need to be removed, but I’ll have Agent A take a look when we get off a moving vehicle, okay?” His brother finished explaining over Danny’s internal tangent. His back doesn’t hurt that bad, which is concerning in its own way since the wound was- as dick pointed out- awful, but it did draw him back out of head. Danny bobs his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll clean them up the best I can for now.” Danny probably wasn’t supposed to hear that mumble that sounded like Richard was talking to himself, as though he was reassuring himself there was something productive he could do to improve the situation. 

Despite the setback, the vigilante is calm, sitting behind Danny painstakingly cleaning his back wounds. So far unshaken by what Danny is certain is a grotesque scene the man is chattering away about patrols and the person called Agent A, who he is reassured will meet them back at the Cave. It kind of amazed Danny how the man was able to endure his tiny flinches and hissed breath to try while trying to distract him. Danny currently wasn’t an easy patient to stomach. 

The sores tunneled down through fat and muscle to his bone. Most of the sores were in stage four, it didn’t take them long to eat away at him and fester, even before becoming a halfa the boy was tall and willowy meaning he had no body fat to slow down the progression of the forming injuries. They hadn’t tried to hide anything from him in the time he was trapped there. After all, if a ghost isn’t sentient, it can’t possibly understand in-depth scientific experiments so why bother to attempt secrecy that would be a waste of precious time and energy. They had simply discussed it like everything else, over his twisted body for most of the day. The scientists had only moved him previously when they needed access to a different part of his body. When they discovered his body started to develop bed sores They were excited. (Danny felt himself slipping away from his body into his memory, he was slipping away from Richard.)

“That’s odd…Honey! Look,” The woman said softly some time into his captivity. She’s pointing at his side, Danny can’t tell what she could be pointing at, all of him hurts. He can’t remember what they did there that could be worth pointing out now. Them not remembering sends a weak chill down his spine, they kept meticulous notes even if it was swallowed by their disorganized storage, it shouldn’t be possible for them to be surprised at the state he’s in since they carefully crafted the condition he’s in. Her fingers flick his collar on, unbuckling the right restraint as she goes before they sharply dig into his right shoulder, before flipping him onto his side roughly to see from another angle like that old map on their family trip to see Aunt Alicia last summer. “It’s getting sores! Stage two I’d say.” 

“Bed sores? It’s hurting itself?” The man’s voice comes out bewildered before he leans closer to see and then cheerfully muses. “Seems like the ectoscum can cannibalize itself! Look at the inflammation! Do you think the infection and strain could kill a ghost?” Danny whimpers behind his muzzle when he can feel the man in his curiosity starting to poke at the edges of the wound with something metal and sharp. “Huh, Mads?” The man prompts.

The woman doesn’t respond. Their silence blankets the room, the scientists both thinking over what they see, what it means. 

The woman makes a small sound and goes rigid reaching for her husband. “I-It’s damaging Danny’s corpse!” She wails in grief, Danny wants to wail right along with her that they’re already destroying his body, "Degrading him further-” A sob echoes in the lab ripping his heart into tatters, Danny tries not to think too hard on the fact he’s so affected by her distress even though they’ve been elbow deep in his ribcage, poking, prodding and removing organs. He tracks the diagonally moving tears as they dribble down the side of his face, across his left cheek to disappear into his hairline. He feels ashamed, after all this hurt, he still loves them, his core still cries out for them. He realizes she’s not just sobbing now the woman is screaming at his prone form, “-how cruel is your species going to be!? Get out. GET OUT OF OUR SON! Murderer! You-” 

NO!

No, now isn’t the time to think about that. 

Danny can taste the iron from his bitten cheek and the salt from wayward tears. He takes a deep breath trying to ground himself in the present. Nightwing had seen the lab, the sight of the mad scientist’s work had made him physically sick, pulled him so carefully from that table, smoothly carrying him away from his own personal hell to the Batplane. They aren’t here. He was… safe with his brother, for the moment.

A crackle of static explodes from behind him causing Danny to flinch away from his brother before a mess of different voices comes through. He can’t hear what they’re saying, the voices too tangled, too unfamiliar, and too quiet since he didn’t have a direct connection, but whatever is said at the end is enough for the vigilante to go rigid and pause in his ministrations to reply. “Woah, B, I’m still here, no need to sound so scary!” Richard chuckles a bit and doesn't feel scared or worried, so Danny relaxes again. 

The eldest son hums, “No, I just was ignoring you,” Danny cracked a small smile at the plume of amusement that drifted between them. Richard’s hand grasps his own gently, “Yes I know how batty you get when I shut off my comms. Yes, I found the main lab.” Richard huffs, “Yes. B, I got ‘im out, we’re in the plane, I’m looking over him now. Have you forgotten I’ve been doing this with you since I was eight or that I took over the Batman mantle under the assumption you were dead?” Richard's voice strains a little in frustration by the end.

Another smaller burst of noise comes quickly in response. Danny flushes weakly in embarrassment as he realizes, like with Team Phantom, it was probably Nightwing’s team all talking over each other in his earpiece. Danny’s core aches at the thought of his sister and friends, how long has it been since Danny’s heard their voices? Weeks? Months? Ancients, could he have been with Them for a year? More?

A single voice breaks through over the others, whatever was said had Nightwing tense, ready to spring to his feet, bursting at the seams with rage-protect-refusal-grief. 

The sudden change in his bubbly brother would’ve knocked Danny down had he been standing, because he isn’t standing Danny reaches out. Danny might not trust him but his father’s eldest hasn’t even tried to hide what he was feeling. Might not know he needs to. He has his ‘eyes’ wide open now. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice and he became a lab frog. There will not be a third time. Danny will not trust this side of his family blindly but that doesn’t mean he can turn away from the man now.

He squeezes his brother’s hand gently to draw his attention, Danny could hear the man force himself to take a long, deep breath. A soft burst of affection-love-love-love-protection brushed against him in return. It was delicate and wispy but strong enough to linger in the air around them. It couldn’t hurt to keep the contact going, Danny decided. Anything to keep that depressing cocktail of emotions from creeping back. 

“No.” Another breath, “Stay there and finish what we started.” The tone is cold and leaves no room for argument. “No one comes on board. This isn’t about what you, or Robin or anyone wants. This is about him. What he needs to feel safe enough to leave here with me. This is about trust. So. If he has decided that he would like some peace and quiet on the way home, he’ll be getting it. Anyone who has an issue with that can take it up with me in the ring when we get back. Any questions?” Nightwing growls into his comms, a singular voice says something after a moment. 

Danny strains to try and catch what was said. He doesn’t want them to fight over him. “Good,” His brother loses the edge to his voice, “I’ll send the plane back to pick you guys up!” The coms shut off abruptly and he says to Danny, “Sorry about them!” 

Danny just shrugs in response as his brother resituates himself on the cot, unhooking Danny’s hand from his to move it so it rested against Richard’s calf. Danny accepted the change with a weak flex of his hand feeling the rasp of kevlar against his palm. Danny always remembered it because of its interesting texture. Perfect for their dangerous nightlife. If Danny needed armor this is what he’d want to get his hands on, a team with resources tends to help too. Keeping in touch with one’s team is important, Danny can’t fault Richard for that. They settle back into a comfortable silence. 

Because they were connected it was easy to catch the beginnings of Richard’s hesitance stirring, “If.. How would it make you feel if your brother wanted to see you?” Richard asks hesitantly as he unexpectedly starts on a new wound making Danny flinch forward. “Sorry Danny.” The genuine, unfiltered feeling of remorse unsettles Danny a bit but instead of retreating he leans into it. The people who once had been his parents- who he still loved despite what had happened, it was all encompassing and intertwined with his anger and longing- had never felt remorse for hurting him. Danny shook his head a bit, Richard is still waiting for a response. 

His brother? Richard was his brother, technically, even if Danny’s not sure he can risk staying with the Bats. He won’t deny anyone their connection to Bruce or Batman. Richard was gentle and caring while his emotions bubbled up and warmed Danny to his core like he was in a jacuzzi. He couldn’t have meant himself so that must mean one of the others wanted to see him? Would they be like Richard? Are any of them upset at the idea that another child was connected to Bruce? 

They were all siblings, all family through their father but that doesn’t mean the connection has to be acknowledged or the label meant anything. Brother, sister, son, they were all just words. Family extended only as far as the living with the Fentons. Him being half-dead disqualified him quickly once they discovered his secret. Danny wasn’t exactly excited to find out what his father and his brood thought of his after-life.

Unsure, Danny shrugged again and played with the sweatshirt, he liked bunching it in his hands. 

A few minutes of silence went by before a beeping started up. His brother sighed, not sounding surprised and started digging around looking for something. That something is placed in his hand, it takes a second for Danny to work out what it is. A comm. He throws a questioning hum back at Richard. “He’s calling on a private line, I figured you could listen in and make your own decision.” That. That was very considerate. Giving him a choice. Seems to be on trend for the man. Danny is rightfully suspicious but slips the comm into his ear nodding to go ahead and connect them. There’s a beep signaling the connection was established. Danny wasn’t prepared who he would hear on the other end.

“Wing. I am converging on your location. What is his status?” The voice is breathless, and the tone is harsh, filled with frustration but familiar. A voice lost to time and those damned sand dunes. 

“He’s currently conscious, Little D. Banged up but we expected that. Thought I told everyone to hold their positions?” He questions softly, a distinct contrast to the almost harsh tone he used on the comms earlier. Dick knows Damian has been desperate to find Danny running himself into the ground searching labs and bases, the team tried and failed to get him to rest or slow down for a moment to regroup. Isn't surprising that he’s decided to abandon his part of the mission and head for the plane. It kills Dick but he’ll have to be very firm in his stance besides Danyal, if he says no other Bats on the plane, Dick will leave Damian behind.

“Tt. I did not abandon my responsibilities. Orphan is finishing our section,” Damian sounds offended their brother even implied that he didn’t do a thorough job, the familiar reaction lessens some of the uncertainty Danny is feeling. “I have arrived, open the doors, Wing.”

“Sorry Baby Bat, no can do!” Nightwing cheerfully responds, “I’m-” Danny tugs hard on the man’s sleeve.

Danny signs frantically, D.A.M.I. comes aboard. Now. Hurry. We are mirrors. Dangerous 

The man looks confused at his interjection but has such a soft smile on his face at Danny’s response until it turns to a frown at the last bit, one that Danny realizes with a start that he can finally see. Slowly the man reaches for his comm, “Scratch that, Baby D says you need to come aboard. Looks like those bastards could have it out for you too.” 

~~~~~~~

Dick watches both of his brothers as Robin rushes inside as soon as the door is cracked enough to squeeze through. Dick stays where he is by the console, hitting the buttons to close the door and listens to the many locks reengage. Once secure he inputs their destination and hits autopilot. Better to get Danny to Alfred as soon as possible now that both twins are on board. If he has to separate them… Well, there are some tranquilizers on board and Dick is sure Damian could enjoy his nap in the bathtub as punishment for upsetting their very injured new sibling. Damian freezes a few steps from the door, Dick sees the desperate drive to find his twin that has been hounding the boy for weeks extinguishing the moment he laid eyes on the cot. He’s ripping off his domino mask with no hesitation, exposing his full face for them to see.

Dick almost relaxes when he sees the awe that broke through first on Danny’s face at Damian’s entrance, the emotion flickers away quickly before he tucks his chin in and his face is obscured in shadow. The urge to jump in and soothe him rises so quickly Dick almost rises from his seat but instead throws his weight back further until his hip digs in a bit to the arm and he knows he will remain in place. He would not interfere unless Danny became physically distressed. Danny had wanted to see Damian, Dick reminds himself. Dick had a few reasons he had even asked the boy about it. If things went well it truly would be good for both of the twins. 

Dick had seen Damian determined before, seen the kid get news that left him shaken and lost, but no one had seen him flip flop from rattled to be as focused or push himself that hard, not even when Damian was convinced the only way to prove his worth to Bruce was killing his older siblings. He’s grown so much over the years and is now making his own decisions and having so many different experiences, his little brother has learned so much and came so far. Dick didn’t think it was possible to feel prouder. 

“Dami.” Danny croaks with a wince and a hand at his throat. He’s looking at his lap, his other hand fiddling with the sheets.

“Danyal.” Damian’s voice wavers, “Ahki.”  The boy is rooted to his spot, waiting for permission to approach. The words visibly hit Danny and he shakes his head a wounded whine. He clearly didn’t expect his twin to be here nor Damian to recognize him as blood, as a brother. Danny’s hand drops the sheet reaching for Damian. His body starts to tilt forward, and Dick can’t help but take a step towards them even as Damian rushes to meet Danny, carefully draping his arms around Danny’s shoulders which gently keeps him from falling to the floor. There isn’t much unbroken skin to rest Damian’s arms on, but Danyal hardly seems to care.   

A heart wrenching sob fills the cabin, their youngest sibling gripping Damian’s cape so tightly his knuckles are white. Dick can just make out the quiet tones of Damian speaking Arabic quietly in their brother’s ear. Their bodies sway with the instinctual drive to comfort, it’s touching, very cute… 

Always one to take advantage of sibling shenanigans Dick quickly pulls out his phone with a smile and snaps a picture to send to the boys later… And the group chat that Damian isn’t in. Picture sent, he tucks his phone away. His phone vibrates with multiple notifications but doesn’t check it. The Bat Brood can simmer. Dick smirks as he moves back over to the sink to wash his hands so he can continue treating Danyal’s back. The tears and sobs abruptly cut off behind him. 

“Fuck.”   

~~~~~

If Danny didn’t just spend an unknown amount of time being tortured by the family that chose him as a child, he would be sinking through the floor in mortification. Damian was here. His gaze burned from the entrance and Danny for a long moment was afraid. What was Damian seeing when he gazed at the pathetic picture Danny made hunched on the cot? Danny couldn’t help but fidget with the sheet to try and ease the unsteady feeling in his chest. He’d wait. Yes. Let Damian brave the quiet- “Dami.” The broken sound leaves his throat, oh ouch. 

He raises a hand to hover over the area, cradling it as if his palm could dampen the scratching pain. Danny waits. He had fucked it up. He hasn’t even given his brother the respect of meeting his gaze. (Not that he can see clearly for more than a foot in front of him, everything past that was misshapen and difficult to make out.) What in the Infinite Realms has possessed him to call out to Damian so casually, affectionately? Damian had only ever allowed that name in the hush of the night when they were alone. 

“Danyal.” Oh. “Ahki.” Oh. Oh Damian, his other half. Awe-grief-regret-vengeance- protect-help-love whipped across the space between them, heavy and fierce Danny can’t help but shake his head with a sharp whine. Guilt chokes him for doubting his twin, his other half. With distance he was able to bottle up his yearning and then he was so busy with the portal, rogues and Zone, he had been too exhausted to reminisce too deeply about his childhood. He kept his eye on the news for surface level stuff, had seen his brother go to their father but didn’t dare make a move to follow him. 

He regrets that now as Damian slips his arms around his shoulders gently securing him back onto the cot. Damian was holding him like he’d shatter at too hard of a grip, but Danny doesn’t care, he’s in his brother's arms. Damian is hugging him. Danny can’t stop the sobs that bubble from his chest, it hurts each inhale pulls at his y-incision, the pain he hasn’t felt rushing forward. Danny fists fabric and pulls his brother close.

"Baby brother,” Damian crooned in quiet Arabic “Danyal, I’m here. I got you. You did well enduring until help arrived, I’m so proud of you.” Damian’s emotions were overwhelming, they accompanied his sweet words enveloping his senses. He wasn’t lying, Danny can feel it. The rage that’s rising within Damian should scare him yet he’s leaning on his brother harder. Damian is furious with Them, not Danny.  He sobs and listens to his brother's promises of safety, of retribution. He feels safe here cradled close in Damian’s arms. Truly safe, something hidden deep within him unwinds. 

He knows how stubborn his twin is, how he would’ve fought tooth and nail to be part of the team that was looking for him. He’ll have to ask about that later, how they’d even know to go looking for him when he’s years dead, buried, and bones for his birth family. He was a little mad they’d bring his brother here when- 

His core shutters in his chest. The feeling that something was wrong hit Danny harder than Skulker. “Fuck.” Danny reluctantly pulls back from Damian. His core pulses weakly. Danny somehow knows it’s a warning. 

“Danyal?” Damian sounds wary, his hand grips Danny’s arm tightly. The pressure is reassuring because Danny is so scared right now. But this could be worse. With Damian here, perhaps things will turn out okay.  

Danny wants to linger looking at his eyes. A shade he’s never found a substitute for, but so desperately tried to keep fresh in his memory. Time slows. His core pulses. Danny’s body wavers for a heartbeat in his brother's grip. “What is happening?!” Damian looks alarmed, his grip tightening and releasing like he does with his blades while gearing up for a fight. It’s cute and almost makes Danny coo at his elder brother.  

Running out of time Danny grits his teeth and frees his arm to start signing as fast as he can to try and explain. It would help if he knew how much they knew about him, the Fentons, the GIW and ghosts but they didn’t have time for a report. He doesn’t want to say too much but he has to warn them. If Vlad finds out he’s away from the GIW and vulnerable he was screwed. The Bat Parade isn’t trained in ghost fighting. Danny would be taken and who knows if he’d ever be able to escape.

Had an accident. Not fully human. Too much physical damage- Danny signs.

His core pulsed weakly interrupting him before it pulled, his body rippled in sync. His head swims, words are hard to remember for a moment. Danny has to hurry, and he isn’t really sure how he wants to phrase this next part, if anything causes the Bats to change their minds about helping him, it won’t matter what Damian wants. The only way for Danny was through, avoidance wouldn’t help at this point. 

-I’m about to hibernate in my C. O. R. E. Core- He continues.

“Core? What is a core?” Dick breaks in. Danny’s eyes jumped to the man, before focusing back on Damian, there wasn’t time. They would barely be getting a shitty explanation out of Danny didn’t have time for questions from the peanut gallery. Damian's gaze is calm and steady when it meets his. He hasn’t turned away from him, he didn’t interrupt. 

 -I haven’t seen it, but it’s… my everything, heart, organs, brain. Core heals. Without a human body DANGEROUS for me. Danny is sure to emphasize again, DANGEROUS, vulnerable. 

Find J. A. Z. Z. F. E. N. T. O. N. Useful. Ally- Danny hesitates on why but gives in- knowledge, weapons, shields. 

V.L. A. D. Enemy. Vlad is bad. Don’t trust. 

He makes the sign for creep and sees Damian’s expression shutter under his protective rage. An instinctive small trill leaves Danny’s lips, pleased that if Vlad shows his face Damian won’t make it easy for him to have his way. 

Despite his best effort Danny is losing steam his instructions come out choppy. He has moments left. 

Damian watches him, like he can feel Danny’s core shift, resignation seeps off his body in waves but determination makes his expression fierce, “You will be safe, Danyal. I will be here when you return.” We will be together. Danny hears the unspoken promise. 

A. H. K. I. You’re a target. I love you. Danny signs their personal signal for head on a swivel and then reels Damian back in, desperate for one last touch to make him real. Tucked in his twin's arms Danny gives himself over to that feeling of safety, clinging to it as he sank into his core. 

~~~~~

Damian blinked light out of his eyes and frowned at the big black spot taking up his vision. His hand now hid what was left of his twin. Danyal had just been in front of them horribly hurt but alive. Finding and freeing his twin was all that had mattered to him. Damian lightly squeezes the hand holding his brother’s quiet core to feel the shape of it in his palm. Once more in his life Danny’s vibrant presence is just out of his reach. 

Grief is an old friend that rises to swallow him. Damian beats it back viciously. Black and blue move closer in his peripheral vision, his eldest brother snatches him close-no. Them close. His brother is still alive. He’s healing. Damian reminds himself despite the sudden wave of failure that crashed into him. Holds onto the thought stubbornly as he examines the stone in his hand. It’s the same shade of blue that makes up Danyal’s eyes. 

The impulsive part of him calms looking into the swirling blue. 

If he hadn’t seen the transformation himself. If he hadn’t been allowed aboard… he wouldn’t believe it. Damian is immensely grateful that captivity hadn’t broken his brother, not completely. Danny had been hesitant but had put his trust in them. Damian had seen his hesitation, the wariness, how Danyal had shrunken into himself, his instincts likely screaming to run, to hide. Whether that trust was because he chose to, or if he ran out of options, Damian didn’t want to know the answer. The unknown time between them no longer was a curiosity to be explored in ‘what ifs’ but a potential threat that Danyal needed to handle carefully. It stung, it being logical didn’t detract from that. Too many years apart, too much had changed within each of them, and their relationship cut short before it took off but not before carving out a part of him. Nothing could compare to the cruel crater Danyal’s life had left in his wake of his death.

His twin’s core gleamed innocently in his palm. 

“Damian.” Richard’s worried tone draws his attention away from Danyal’s new form. 

Damian keeps his gaze on the core, takes a calming breath and promises himself that when Danyal is back, they’ll go to the place he secured and created with his twin in mind after coming to Gotham, show him Damian’s sketchbooks and paintings, and introduce him to the animals in his care. Damian will finally get to share this strange, chaotic, but warm family with him, as he was always meant to. Damian would be careful that there would be no mistakes, no lead unfollowed, every piece would be gathered together and turned over, a plan would be made that would safeguard their victory. Danyal is relying on him. Damian will utilize everything he’s gained over their years apart to protect his brother.

“Release me,” Damian demands as he wiggles out of his brother’s arms, but it doesn’t come out as firm as it would normally and turns to glance at the closest monitor. They still had two hours left until they arrived at the manor. Damian glances at Danyal’s core in his hand before he turns to face Richard. He looks like he needs to lie down but he has managed to keep a wobbling smile on his face. “Tt this is a mere setback,” Damian scowls at the little marble, he can’t be mad when his little brother gave him such valuable information on what pieces are on the board, the board he’s been playing on wherever he’s been hiding. 

“Here, hold him for a moment- No!” Damian’s shout is too loud, it echoes around the cabin. His panic morphs his expression and his brother thankfully does halt his casual reckless reaching for their brother who is a quarter-sized marble. Danny only had said he was vulnerable before he ran out of time, they must exert the utmost caution. There would be no causal anything going on with Danyal in this state. “Let me. Please hold them flat.” Damian says softening his tone, Danny going into his core wasn’t Richard’s fault nor was it the families. He didn’t want to take his frustration out on him when Damian knows his eldest brother is reeling at the transformation right alongside him. The soft tone makes Richard’s smile come a bit easier this time at Damian’s mother henning and Damian tries not to preen under the approval he can see in Richard’s dopey smile. Carefully he places Danyal in Richard’s hands, they close softly around Danyal in a protective cage. 

“He said he heals faster in this ‘core’?” It’s a silly question, but Damian nods watching Danny rest in Richard’s palms before sharply turning away to gather his things. He starts digging around for paper and a pen to make notes, folders for organizing the information, and his laptop before hunkering down. 

“Uh.. okay,” Richard’s confusion both amused him and had Damian ready to snap in frustration. Danny had spent his last moments in his body giving them information and it will not go to waste, not for a second. He carefully labels the folders with the names Danyal had given him, pointedly ignoring the crisis Richard seems to be going through next to him, before he turns on his laptop and starts his search with this ‘Jazz Fenton’. Danny didn’t give Vlad's last name but this woman has the knowledge, weapons, and shields the family will need to protect their youngest. Damian knows what loss is, knows this loss specifically, he is determined to never feel it dig his claws in again. 

Robin gets to work.

[lavender-teardroplettes]

Si x Friend headcannons mayhaps🥺👉👈

......ANON I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

God it's been a minute and Si's lore got lumped in with me first trying to make an oc for the game before switching into self insert-

Friend 100% was Si's first crush even if he pushed Si away at first and while keeping in mind that neither of them knew what a crush was at that point.

Even before Friend's family dies, Si's family would hold up appearances and let him hide out at their house occasionally. Si's house was nowhere as clean as Friends no matter how much clutter and other junk were cleaned up, but to both of them, because it was happier together than alone, it was home. After the accident, Si was allowed more in Friend's household and Friend was allowed to travel more frequently between his and SI's place to get what little comfort and sense of normality he could hold onto.

Keagan caused a REALLY big rift in Si and Friend throughout high school until the two of them had their initial falling out. A lot of it was Keagan super hitting on Si, and one of Keagan's friends (blanking on his name atm) not only putting down Si, but putting down Friend at the same time. It was stupid and chalked up to peer pressure and SI not actually having a good support system that he distanced himself from Friend, when in reality they were each other's biggest rocks and something Si regrets betraying before the events of the demo.

The day Si calls Friend to pick him up after breaking up with Keagan and not wanting to ride in a car with a drunk driver was one of the hardest days in Si's life. He finally allowed himself to be vulnerable and rely on the one person he knew he could count on....and oh god was he glad it was still true.

During the events of the demo- I see Si being on the side of still harboring old feelings for Friend, but not wanting to mess up the second chance they have. He assumes Friend is being his usual flirty self since Si had heard about him being more of a playboy, and you expect your friends to change over the years, so he mostly pushes his feelings down and feels like he's the only one stuck in the past.

^ This also causes him to be a little too nice and friendly with people since he's used to his best friend "casually flirting" with him and doesn't think too much of the more subtle approach most people take....like Carter for example.

I don't see Si getting kidnapped to the basement in the way that most do in that sort of route. I see Friend playing on Si's paranoia and convincing him that he can't trust anyone in the way he trusts Friend, and that it would be just like Keagan all over again. Why start all over with someone new when you can be with someone you've known....trusted....loved....your whole life? I see maybe one friend that Si makes outside of Friend possibly dying if they pry too much into Si's disappearance, but I would also like to think that if Si went willingly, Friend would try his best to scare them off instead of risking Si being upset with him more than he already is with the confusion of being gaslit and essentially talked into living in a fancy cell.

Alternatively....we can have two dorks who have been love with each other since there were kids where one person knew all along and the other took longer to realize it until their sense of love and comfort suddenly wasn't there anymore. Si and Friend are both on the demi spectrum iirc, but it takes longer for Friend to realize it and they fall victim to stupid high school bs in between everything. In this case, I see the cat cafe date being canon, with SI wearing a cute outfit just to TRY and shoot his shot again hopefully picking up on Friend's signals in the right way this time. Of course, this still means that Friend is weary of every move Si makes, but it opens up for more measures of security on Si's end. Si'll never know who killed the man who touched his arm or the woman who got to close to him while he was walking, and slowly Friend has more of a grasp on Si's day to day life to make sure he NEVER leaves Friend in the same way his sisters did. To Friend....he has nothing left to hope or LIVE for if he doesn't have Si, and he's not giving an inch of an opening for it to happen again....if he can manage it.

[sinnabee]

quick life update:

I BOUGHT A FUCKIN HOUSE!!!! AAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it’s absolUTELY crazy you guys!!! i had to pull from my retirement to do it, there were a few oh god it’s gonna fall through moments, but i did it!!!! :DDD

not gonna be online as much for a bit, because i’m moving!!!! i paid my rent for april and my roommate is giving me the month to move out. the plan is to get as much stuff moved over in boxes myself before renting a truck so my brother can help me cart all the furniture over there ^^

ideally myself, my girlfriend, and some friends are also gonna try and get the rooms painted before we get the BIG stuff in there.

to all of you who still have sticker or charm orders that haven’t gotten to you yet: i know!!! i’m so sorry, but this is what’s been putting it off and off and off! i’ll try and send out what i can, but most likely, i won’t be able to get anything out right now until the end of april. i probably also won’t be able to stream much if at all, since i’m packing! (this is why the shop is closed atm also)

i’ve gotten most of my utilities sorted out, but i’ve still gotta file my 2023 taxes and do some other house things, like mess with the security system (??) they left.

but yeah!!!! i’m really pumped!!! i can finally have my furniture and stuff in more than one room! paint the walls! hang up shelves!!! once i’m settled i should finally have a dedicated space for stickers and art and streams, instead of doing it all out of my bedroom haha. so hopefully in the future, i’ll be a LOT more capable of keeping up with demand. ^^

i also just wanted to say thanks for all of the support from all my friends and moots and just!!!! everybody!!! special shout-out to the dca fandom for getting me into streaming and sticker making and just being a delight in general, y’all have changed my life for the better <3

ANYWAY. that’s what’s going on with me! i love u guys and i’m still around, just busy for a while! <3

[bryce-bucher]

J(a)SON Post #2

Interfacing:

Games like Deus Ex, VtM:B, Prey 2017, etc. include interesting interfaces for things like computers, security terminals, etc. Rather than just simply showing the player the information they need to see and then moving on, they opt to allow the player to explore an interface with a degree of control closer to that of a real device or an operating system. The first time I saw the interface for controlling cameras in Deus Ex, all of the synapsis in my brain fired at once when I realized you can just manually rotate the cameras and enable /disable them individually. It doesn't take that much extra effort to include this degree of interactivity, and it baffles me as to why so few big budget games do so. At a certain point in development, I realized I needed a system like this, so I set it up so that I could easily create and assign an interface to any device that needs one. As you can see in the photos above, each interface has its own pre-render that depicts a closeup of whatever the player is interacting with. This allows me the freedom to basically do whatever I want with them, and it opens up the door to some pretty fun possibilities. On a surface level it allows a higher degree of player freedom as they can do things like manually set the timer on the c4, but it will also allow me to do some more ambitious stuff like create a micro-os for the computers that lets you check email, mess with a pseudo-code terminal, and play picross. This week I've been working on the ATM, which will allow you to enter any bank account information that you come across and drain whatever amount of money you want from the account. I'm looking forward to sharing more of the interfaces as I develop them, so I guess you'll see them then.

Conclusion:

Twas tha night before christmas when I wrote this post, but sadly I have not even remotely been in the christmas spirit this year. There isn't any particular reason or anything it just hasn't even felt like december weirdly. I think this post is kind of spiritually connected to my second Basidia post, as it similarly showcases my love of fun and interesting ui in games. Anyway, I hope ya'll have a happy holidays, and I'll see you again next week when I make yet another J(a)SON post.

[detachedminxsfics]

System Error

Characters: JD Richter x Detective F!Reader

Summary: You take on a homicide case and find that you're not as alone as you thought you were at the crime scene.

Word count: 5.1K+

Warnings: NSFW - Vaginal sex, riding, drunk sex, mixing business with pleasure

A/N: I wrote this at 2am so I was too tired to check/revise for mistakes, so apologies to anybody who reads this lmao. Also I'm only on like ep 9 atm so I wrote him as best as I could. :)

Ten k. That was what someone was willing to pay to solve a homicide, and you'd be damned if you weren't gonna take that. Vee, your computer system responsible for receiving all jobs for the patrol special had come to life with the alert of an incoming job. A suspected homicide down fifth avenue, a man was found murdered in his own home. There was no way of telling whether it was gonna be a clean-cut case until you could see the crime scene for yourself, and with Vee's timer slowly chipping at your twenty seconds to make your decision you hurried off for your shoes and sighed.

"I accept."

The computer processed your response, and then the job was yours.

"Would you like a partner?"

You laughed a little, not that that would amuse the software.

"No, Vee. I never do."

You finalised zipping up your boots, standing up and making your over to where you'd strewn your jacket, throwing it over your shoulders.

"Sending crime scene location to your nav, please confirm receipt."

The screen lit up with a full address, and your eyes wandered over it for a moment.

"Confirm."

The criminal activity matrix hibernated once more, and that was it. That was your night planned out. The drive wasn't too long as the location wasn't awfully far, and before you knew it you were parked outside, staring over at the apartment block in front. There was a car parked relatively close to yours, a jeep positioned almost as though its driver had the same intentions as you, but you swept away the thought. This was a complex of many residents, albeit rich ones, and that could be any one of the resident's vehicles. Though you weren't sure why one of them would own such a vehicle, and a muddy, not so maintained one at that. You stepped out of your car and made your way into the building, bypassing the complex's security systems until you reached the floor you needed. Sixth, apartment number 154. Locating was the easiest part. After overriding the electronic lock system on the front door you pushed it open, gun raised vigilantly. It had happened a few times before, the culprit hangs around, or tries to make their way back to cover their tracks after the initial body discovery. Could never be too careful. You were cautious as to the volume of your steps, nevertheless, one creaky floorboard gave way to a whole load of ruckus in an entirely silent room. If anyone was here, they'd surely know your whereabouts by now.

"Don't move a muscle, hands up and drop it."

A man's voice sounded from behind you, your back to him as you kept your gun gripped in your hand, merely lowering your arm and looking straight ahead of you.

"I've done a lot of cases, but a murderer employing cop lingo is a first."

Something wasn't right, and you hoped that what you were implying was telling enough.

"You're a cop?" He questioned with a tinge of skepticism.

You turned to face him now, not entirely convinced that he would still shoot you. He seemed to tense a little once you did. Well, what a surprisingly pleasant sight to behold. He looked the middle-aged whiskey-drinking type, and the matte leather jacket did little to ease your idealised first impression.

"Patrol special, and you're on my crime scene."

You tucked your gun into your waistband as opposed to its usual holster and glanced up at him, he looked wildly offended, judging by the look of disbelief splayed across his face.

"Your crime scene? Not only was I here first, but this is most certainly my case."

Concurrently, you pulled your remote matrix systems from your pockets, eyes locked with one another as you unlocked your devices.

"11964, passkey buffalo jump." He muttered his security details.

"3273, passkey angel wings." You did the same.

Simultaneously, you turned the devices to face one another, the synchronously timed confusion etching across your features priceless. Both screens displayed the same job, everything down to the victim details and case ID, meaning the two of you were most certainly in the right place. Defeated, you both lowered your devices and tucked them back to where they belonged, and your newly appointed comrade lowered his gun.

"Must've been a system error, a malfunction, or something. You pick a partner?" He asked.

You shook your head.

"Nope, I don't work so well with others."

"Likewise."

A standoff. You had two choices. The first consisted of familiarising yourselves with one another, considering you were about to be partners in this case. The other? Race him. Bounty hunters had done it before, competing with one another for who would score the payout, and solve the case first. Though, he didn't seem like the competitive type.

"Truce, and I suppose we get the ten thousand each. If not? Five k split. Sound fair?" As generous an offer as you could give, and if he denied, honour be damned.

You extended your hand with a moderate amount of composure, and his brows furrowed as he worked the idea through his head. He mulled on it for a moment or two, and then his hand closed around yours, shaking hands as you established the grounds for your truce.

"JD Richter."

You tilted your head slightly, and a small smile spread across your lips.

"Cute." You muttered offhandedly, heading off towards the bedroom.

He followed after you.

"Not gonna give me your name?" JD pried.

You stepped into the master bedroom, surveying the room for anything misplaced or unusual, practically ignoring him.

"Need to know basis, or you can look me up. File's a little wild, but a guy like you might get a kick out of it."

You rounded the bed to discover the pool of blood staining the off-white carpet, bending down to get a closer look. Purposefully, you ignored the sounds of a scanner from behind you as he obviously looked you up, the repetitive beeping that subsequently ceased indicating that he had found it.

"You're a busy girl. A repeat offender for petty theft and battery, served some time. Then you went straight, did some time in the force. Now your solo as of four months ago. You get cold feet?"

You let a small giggle slip, still focusing your attention on the clue right under your nose.

"No, I got bored. Needed something a little more thrilling."

It was true. A position in generalised law enforcement just wasn't good enough for a thrill seeker such as yourself, not when you could be working with homicide cases and collecting mass payouts like this. Bounty hunting was where your heart lie. Your head wandered down to just beside the blood, careful not to contaminate the evidence, and pinched to gather something from the carpet. You raised and turned your hand over to look at your fingertip, seeing as you had collected some kind of paint chip. Or...

"Killer's female. Probably early to mid-twenties."

You rose to your feet with the nail polish chip still laid on your fingertip, careful not to drop it.

"What makes you so sure?"

You extended your hand to show him the speck of rouge varnish.

"Nail polish. Chips off sometimes, and the choice of colour just screams twenties. I have a knack for this sorta thing."

His brows were raised, and he seemed impressed.

"Okay, you're quick. Anything else?"

JD was willing to see how far he could push your investigative skills, and whether he could make you stutter. You wouldn't fold.

"The trail of sole indents in the carpet. Heels, judging by the dimension, stiletto. And a guy as rich as this? Louboutins, perhaps. He was probably well acquainted with his killer."

He smiled, a genuine and fascinated one.

"Well, alright. You suggestin' we got a femme fatale on our hands?"

You pulled your phone from your pocket to take a photo of the chip, making sure that you focused it so it would be clear enough that you could use it later.

"I am. They're my specialty." You finished your sentence by flicking the polish back onto the carpeted floor, your eyes boring into his as you silently urged him to detail the next move.

You knew, but it was his turn to be put on the spot.

"So, killer had to be close. We do some digging, social media, anything that could allude to a girlfriend or some lady friend of his, and then we narrow it down." When he stopped your brows raised expectantly, you hadn't expected him to finish his sentence so prematurely.

He looked bewildered by the way your expression urged him to continue, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Then, we make a house call. I'll see if I can find some matches for the polish, and we search for it. With varnish that old its probably wiped off with all the scrubbing she did to clean her hands of blood, so focusing on whoever has painted fingernails is pointless."

He nodded, feigning a sense of 'I knew that', and his facade of confidence brought a smile to your lips. Clearly, he was too confident to admit that he was out of his depth, and without you, this case would have been a whole lot harder.

"With that outta the way, how about drinks? My place, considering we're buddies an' all." JD mused with a grin of his own.

"A man after my own heart."

The two of you exited the crime scene, taking the elevator down to the lobby and making your way over to your car. You watched as JD split off to return to his vehicle, the jeep that you'd had suspicions of before. Your gut was as remarkable as usual, you hadn't lost your touch. Starting up your car you followed his vehicle, tailing him all the way to his place. Eventually, he pulled off the main road and onto a side road that led right out into a relatively private and modest one-floor home. Taking your keys from the ignition you pushed your car door open and stepped out, JD was already halfway up the steps to the porch as he had arrived a little before you by the time you made it to his front yard. He unlocked his front door and pushed it open, leaving it ajar so you could make your way inside. You did, shutting it behind you. For what it was worth his home seemed, simple. It was quaint, and looked as though it belonged to a person who was neither struggling to make ends meet nor rolling cash, he was just that middle ground of comfort.

"What's your poison?" He called out, and you made your way over to his sofa, slipping your jacket from your shoulders.

"Whiskey."

Truthfully, you didn't give a shit. Whatever got you waking up and not knowing anything that had happened the night before was your drink of choice, something to get you blacked out. He emerged from the kitchen holding two glasses and a bottle, setting them down on the coffee table. Then, he settled down beside you, twisting the cap as he readied himself to pour your drinks.

"So, JD, how'd you end up in this business?"

He poured the liquor from the bottle into each glass, the sound of running liquid filling your ears.

"Dishonourable discharge. This seemed like the next best thing, and it pays well enough."

You nodded taking the glass from the table after he slid it over to you. He took his own, nonchalantly holding it as he turned to face you. You did the same, apart from taking a rather generous swig of yours.

"Are you married?"

It was personal for someone you had known for an hour tops, but moving fast seemed to be the theme for this evening. His eyes grew a little solemn.

"Divorced. I like the crazy ones, I guess that's just my cross to bear." JD quipped.

You didn't smile until towards the end of his sentence, when even his eyes lit up a little. You threw the last of the liquor back and set down the empty glass.

"Figures."

Picking up the bottle you tipped it and filled your empty glass, if tonight didn't leave you with gaps in your memory you'd know you haven't done it right. JD seemed to pick up on what your intentions were, and he emptied the contents of his glass into his throat, setting it down and taking the bottle once you were done with it.

"What about you?"

You stalled for a moment, and then realised that he was referring to whether you were romantically entangled or not.

"No, not for me. I've had a few, partners, but the relationship's always strictly bedroom only."

A sip this time, fearing that emptying this glass would further the already present effects of this impromptu truth serum, and you'd spill far more than you intended to give away.

"Why don't you stay here for the night? We can start in the morning, and that way you don't get pulled over for a drink driving charge."

If you were fancy enough in this modern world of technological advancement you could afford one of those self-driving automated cars, but you were not. Neither was JD. Staying here didn't seem like such a bad idea, especially not when your company was so handsome. God, how much have you had to drink?

"Okay, hotshot. I'll stay."

JD was smiling as he raised his glass, watching you as you too brought the rim of the glass to your lips. It was gonna be a long night.

Minutes turned into hours, and by the time you looked back to assess the amount of whiskey left, the bottle was near enough empty. You were screwed. Now both severely inebriated you were huddled pretty close to one another, your knee brushing his thigh as his arm rested on the top of the sofa, supporting your head.

"Okay, okay, what's the like most craziest shit you've ever seen on a case?" It sounded a lot more concise in your head, but you mumbled it once it came out of your mouth.

JD chuckled at your initial incoherence, even in spite of the fact that he could translate your drunken speech perfectly. His eyes veered off toward the ceiling as he sighed thoughtfully. A beat passed.

"There was this guy that just lost it and offed his whole family. The kids, the wife, all of 'em. Found him red-handed, blood everywhere, and the guy looked as though he didn't feel even the slightest bit of remorse. Definitely not the worst of the things I've seen, but that's what you get serving in kuwait." Though notably buzzed, he'd levelled his tone to a more serious note out of respect for what he was discussing.

You frowned, having not expected something so grim.

"Well, shit. I was gonna say something stupid like the perp I caught because she left her bra on the floor of the crime scene, and I'm pretty good at guessing bra sizes. Ended up tackling her in a bar." Your more witty and comedic story was quick to lighten the mood, and JD idly rested a hand on your thigh.

Through the haze of intoxication, his touch was electrifying. You attempted to repress your urge to faintly quiver from his contact, unsure whether you were successful or not.

"Why is it that all the good looking women are crazy?"

You scoffed with false offense, mockingly hovering a hand over your heart.

"I'm not crazy, just ambitious. And a little impulsive."

His face moved closer to yours, the hand beginning to trace your thigh, fingertips teasing the hem of your skirt. In his venture, his fingers lightly grazed over the handle of the gun you kept holstered beneath your skirt, and you supposed the firearm didn't exactly help you plead your case of complete sanity. The skirt was already hiked from the way you were sitting, the sight of your panties obscured only by the fact that your thighs were pressed together.

"Oh yeah, how so?"

JD was teasing you, crossing the usual line of a professional and formal partner dynamic. And in a way, the fact that you admitted to having such frequent casual sex was incredibly appealing.

"Like this."

You whispered as you leant in, looking into his eyes for a moment before you pressed your lips against his. It was slow, and he groaned as though he wasn't expecting it. Still stealing one another's breath you climbed onto his lap, bent knees resting on either side of his hips as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and he accepted it without the slightest hesitation. Eventually, JD managed to gather enough control to pull himself back, his hands on either side of your face as he attempted to blink through the haze of intoxication.

"Okay, you're not thinking straight. And frankly, neither am I. You sure you wanna mix business with pleasure?"

You gave a sultry smile, slightly tilting your head as you reached down and palmed the bulge that had formed at his crotch.

"What, like you haven't before?"

You gave no time for a response as your mouth was on his again, and he drunkenly succumbed to your advances. It was a little messy, intentional and yet awkward movements as you wrestled off one another's clothes and allowed the discarded garments to form a pile on the floor. In time your panties were all that was left, and they didn't last much longer. JD had undone his pants and pushed everything down to his ankles, including his boxers, leaving him nude beneath you as you worked off your thin and lacy underwear. You tossed it aside once it dangled loosely from one of your ankles and placed your hands on JD's shoulders, supporting yourself as you hovered above him, your hair cascading over your face. Simply, he raised one of his hands to cup one side of your face whilst the other settled on your hip. He gently urged you to lean down to press your lips against his, lining himself up and pulling you down onto him just as your lips meet. Your rather surprised and immodest moan bled into your heated kiss, and you can feel the noticeable sensation of fullness once you're fully settled down onto him. It's incredible. You pull back just to catch your breath.

"Fuck, holy shit JD." Is all you can manage as he uses his remaining grip on your curvature to ease you up again, just enough, before bringing you back down onto him.

Your hands fall from his shoulders to slide down his bare and moderately hairy chest, and your mouth falls open as you feel all of him, again. JD all the while just seems rather amused, the liquid courage leaving him a little haughty.

"C'mon, you made the move. Show me how ambitious you really are, partner."

The challenge was enough for you to somewhat clear your head, and you narrowed your eyes slightly. Luckily for him, you were pretty determined, and quite the competitor. You lifted yourself before coming down pretty hard, gradually setting a relentless and gratifying pace that had both of you letting the most foul of sounds tumble from your mouths. Your half-lidded eyes were fixed on him as you rolled your hips, drinking in the stray strands of hair that hung from the way he'd neatly styled his hair, and the way his lips parted to let out small, shaky breaths. Teasingly, you feel JD's fingers dig into the top of one of your thighs, the other still caressing your hip. He wouldn't utter a word, but the way you looked bouncing on top of him like this? You were fucking beautiful. All he could do was silently thank the system for one of the best errors of his life, the light of his eyes the only indicator of the way he was appreciating you. Your moans grew louder, a string of crude and unrestrained whimpers that filled the air of his quiet, one-story home. Knowing you were close only urged him to move his own hips in time with yours, the added stimulation only worsening the pleasure brimming in the pit of your stomach. As you gave one final roll of your hips before collapsing on top of him JD followed shortly after, twitching beneath you as your head fell into the crook of his neck. His guttural groans resounded just beside your ear, a tune that told you that was a job well done, and your ambition was pretty clear. Inebriated, overstimulated, and with your mind seemingly unable to concentrate on anything other than the pitch black behind your eyelids, you were done for the night. Everything after that gets suitably fuzzy. Your vision's vivid at various different points, but from what you can gather judging by the way the ground suddenly grew farther away, and the feeling of overall weightlessness, JD carried you to bed.

The sun beamed over your face, a light seemingly unavoidable, even despite your blissfully closed eyelids.

"Rise and shine." Spoke an enthusiastic voice, and you peeked your eyes open to look at your talking and oddly human alarm clock.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes all the way, momentarily shielding them from the harshness of the light and leaning up.

"God, this feels like shit."

Your head was pounding, temples seemingly throbbing as everything got a whole lot louder, and brighter. His understanding but partially taunting chuckle prompted him into offering you the only help that he could think of.

"Coffee? I'm on my second, we drank a lot."

"You're telling me. Yeah, whatever."

JD headed off towards the kitchen to fix you your hangover remedy, and you managed to haul yourself from the bed in search of your clothes. He'd already found his, and you walked out to the lounge to kneel on the floor and scramble to retrieve yours. Having recovered your underwear and your skirt you continued to search for the rest of it, completely ignoring the steps that had come from the kitchen and halted just in front of you. JD was watching you, hung over, nude, and crawling across his living room floor.

"I gotta say, you could stay like that. We just might not get much work done."

Your head snapped up to award him a warning glare, what you had managed to find of your clothes tucked under your arm.

"Behave." Blunt, but candid enough to rip off the band-aid with the realisation that you two didn't have time for this, and you were going to need to focus.

JD raised his free hand in surrender, and you proceeded to recover the rest of your garments, standing to your feet and throwing them on once successful. Meanwhile, he set the coffee mug down on the table and scurried off to do something else, and you sat down on the couch finally fully clothed. When JD returned he set his laptop down on the table and offhandedly gestured for you to open it, so you did. He sat down beside you with a cluster of papers in hand, leaning over and keying in his password when the device prompted him to do so.

"I'll leave the socials to you. I've got his phone records and transcripts here to go over. Gonna look for any abnormalities and calls that went out the night he died."

"Got it." You muttered offhandedly, already invested in the task at hand.

It took maybe an hour flat, and you'd pinned everything. Rich aristocrat types such as this guy were all too flashy, usually gaining online traction for their repeated bragging of all their financial assets, so he was hardly difficult to find. Then came another often flaunted asset, women. There were many, but a handful appeared more than once, and you had a hunch for this particular girl. You pieced together a list of your most notable suspects and then cross-referenced it with JD's list of frequent callers considering you'd already profiled most of the girls, including their mobile phone numbers.

"Her." You muttered, tapping your pencil on your personal favourite.

JD glanced at you with a considerable amount of apprehension, but the confidence in your eyes was persuasive and convincing.

"Okay, you got an address?"

You sure did. The next few minutes consisted of piling into JD's jeep, and you were pulling into the drive of your suspect's home before you knew it. Judging by the look of her home she was, comfortable. Not the kind of level of wealth of your entrepreneurial victim, but enough. Houses like these had good, advanced security systems, but detectives were able to bypass pretty much anything, especially in a case like this. Politely, you both stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door first, knocking and letting a beat pass. When you received no response it became pretty conclusive that she wasn't home, which was perfect, really. JD tampered with the security system and you were able to get her front door open with little to no fuss, you stepping in first to get a brief look at her place. You deduced the room most likely to be the bedroom and made a beeline for it, barely able to contain yourself in your desire to search for the infamous red polish. JD trailed behind you, his footsteps closely following yours as you stepped into the bedroom and began to survey her dresser. Eventually, your eyes landed on a slightly scattered heap of different nail varnish, your eyes settling on all of the red ones in particular. Whilst you sifted through the nail polish and attempted to match it with the sample on your phone JD discovered the shoe rack and began to look for any stiletto-heeled shoes, more to be busy with something more than anything. Finally, one particular shade of red came ablaze with the notification of a match.

"Bingo. Chanel too, classy girl."

You spun to face JD with a smile of triumph, and his own smile seemed to resemble a similar sense of premature victory.

"Perfect. Now time to go pay our little femme fatale a visit."

JD exited the bedroom to make his way back to the jeep, and you stuffed the nail polish in your pocket. It was evidence, and besides, red was your colour. Unexpectedly, JD had been waiting for you out in the hallway, and his features looked so serious. You approached him a little concerned, considering you had solved the case after all, and he'd been over the moon only a few seconds ago.

"Look I uh, it's been nice with you. Working, with you." JD cleared his throat after his slight mishap in specifying the enjoyable part of his time with you, but your eyes drifted elsewhere, caught up with the movement over his shoulder.

"Duck!"

It took him a moment, but he eventually caught on and leaned over just as you did, narrowly missing the blade that was hurled toward his head. It passed over you both and embedded in the wall behind you, and you were quick to pull your pistol from the holster beneath your skirt and aim, reflexively squeezing the trigger and firing a shot into the woman's leg. It was the only reason you wore this damn thing, and it often came in handy. She cried out crumpling to the floor clutching her newly wounded knee, and you heaved a sigh of relief. You were still processing how quickly you had acted as JD made his way over to her and restrained her into handcuffs, affirming the capture of your killer. Some not-so-pleasant words were exchanged in the moments before the authorities came to collect her, but you hardly paid much attention when you received your payout of ten thousand dollars.

"You too?" You asked JD, who was also staring down at his matrix.

"Yep, ten thousand each, a pretty hefty sum for a job like this."

It was. But you were most definitely not going to complain, a system error meant a financial one, and you'd earned that money fair and square. The case was closed, and you both stood there for a moment or two, unsure who should make the first move.

"We should probably get going." You broke the silence, and JD nodded in agreement.

Foolishly, you almost hoped you two would have gotten to spend a little more time together. He was good company, an adequately competent partner, and from what you could remember, good in bed. Nevertheless, JD still had to drive you back to his since you'd left your car, and so you followed him out to the jeep. The drive was silent, almost in contemplation. You'd gone from avoiding a knife meant for the back of JD's head to the thought of driving home and getting into your bed, a significant turn of events. The contrast played havoc with your gradually subsiding adrenaline. Even through your intense thought, you did notice when the vehicle came to a stop. You unclipped your seatbelt and stepped out, and JD came around from the other side of the car. For a moment you dared think he was as disappointed about having to part ways as you were, but neither of you was the cooperative type.

"Well, thanks for, last night. And being such a great partner." You leaned forward and planted an intimate but casual kiss on his stubble-filled cheek, barely sparing the time to acknowledge his reaction afterwards as you made way for your car.

You'd made it one step when his arm reached out and carefully snatched you back, spinning you back to face him.

"Wait, you should take my number. Just in case."

You raised one brow, a smile playing on your lips from the tone of his request.

"In case of?"

He thought for a moment, lips forming his own impish smile.

"You never know, system errors."

Yeah, system errors. At least that was how you justified it when you exchanged numbers. Finally, it was time for you to take your leave. JD was halfway up the steps to his front porch when you rolled down the window and called out from your car, foot angled readily to bolt out of his driveway.

"I left my bra on your bed, by the way!"

You were gone before he could even spare you a glance.

[scotianostra]

On June 27th 1967 the first cash dispenser was opened by Barclay’s Bank in Enfield by actor Reg Varney.

The idea of an automatic money dispensing machine had been mooted and tried without success in the early 60's but it wasn't until Scotsmen John Shepherd-Barron and James Goodfellow successfully designed the "cash machine" and Personal Identification Number (PIN) technology which is still used over 50 years later.

Goodfellow lodged his patent in May 1966, more than a year before the first cash machine was ceremonially opened in a blaze of publicity. A machine was developed by John Shepherd-Barron, who was born in India, to Scottish parents, and lived much of his later life in Portmahomack in Ross-shire.

Shepherd-Barron's ATM beat Goodfellow's machines, which were installed at branches of Westminster Bank (later to become NatWest), by just a month.

So Shepherd-Barron became known as the "man who invented the cash machine" and not Goodfellow, the man who patented the system we use today.

Shepherd-Barron says he was inspired by chocolate vending machines, he stated "It struck me there must be a way I could get my own money, anywhere in the world or the UK. I hit upon the idea of a chocolate bar dispenser, but replacing chocolate with cash.

The two devices were very different.

Shepherd-Barron's did not use plastic cards, instead it used cheques that were impregnated with carbon 14, a mildly radioactive substance.

The machine detected it, then matched the cheque against a Pin number.

Shepherd-Barron worked for banknote manufacturer De La Rue, which never patented its machine.

Before he died in 2010, he told a documentary that he didn't patent the idea because he did not want fraudsters knowing how the system worked.

He also said that the chief executive of Barclays had been quick to say yes to the idea when they had discussed it after a couple of Martinis.

Shepherd-Barron then had to go back to his team and get them to develop his idea.

In recent years, his claim to have been the real inventor of the cash machine has been recognised more widely.

Mr Goodfellow now does not like to talk about the years in which Mr Shepherd-Barron got all the credit but in a 2009 BBC documentary he said it "really does raise my blood pressure".

The engineer, from Paisley, told BBC Scotland: "My patent was licensed by all the manufacturers. They thought that was the way to go.

"The race to get it on to the street was not as important.

"Getting it right was the answer, not getting it first."

Mr Goodfellow was working as development engineer for Glasgow firm Kelvin Hughes in the mid-1960s when he got involved in a project to design a machine that could dispense money to customers when banks were closed.

He said in an interview that the driving force for the move was unions putting pressure on banks to close on Saturday mornings.

He said most people worked during the week and could not get to the bank, which closed at 3pm on weekdays.

Many people went to the bank on Saturday mornings but the unions were pressing for staff to work a five-day week.

The banks wanted a way to give working people access to their money when they were closed. Goodfellow said "The problem with cash machines was access.

"How would a genuine customer, and only a genuine customer, get money out of it?"

They considered biometrics - fingerprints, voice prints or retinal scans.

"But in the 60s the technology to do this was not there, it was impossible,"

So the next approach was an "exotic token", a piece of paper or plastic with "uncommon characteristics" that a machine would recognise.

His "eureka moment" came when he hit upon the idea of the Personal Identification Number (PIN).

This was the vital security measure that would make the system work, the number would be known to the customer and the bank and could be related to the card but not read by anyone else.

Goodfellow's invention was patented in May 1966, more than a year before his rival unveiled the first ATM in London.

But he still had a battle to make his concept reality.

"We had to meet some of the banks demands which were pretty severe," he said.

"They had a million customers and they wanted 2,000 machines across the UK.

"They wanted any one of the one million customers to be able to access any one of the 2,000 machines.

"You've got to remember there was no IT network in those days. The banks had no IT equipment. The bank's branches had nothing.

"We spent a lot of time developing the code. We had to submit something like 1,000 of these cards to a consultant, who would try to decipher it."

The cards he used were one quarter of a "Hollerith" punch-card, which just happens to be the same size as today's credit card. It contains just 30 bytes of data.

His patent for the card and Pin ATM was licensed for millions but Mr Goodfellow, as a humble technician, did not own the rights and did not get rich from his invention.

He said he signed patents for 15 countries around the world and got a dollar for each - worth about £10.

Mr Goodfellow left the firm in 1967 when it moved its operations to England and he went to work for IBM.

There have been arguments for years over who should officially go down in history as "the inventor of the ATM".

In 2005, Mr Shepherd-Barron received an OBE in the New Year honours list for services to banking as the "inventor of the automatic cash dispenser".

However, since then Mr Goodfellow, the man who patented the invention, has regained his place.

In 2006 Mr Goodfellow received an OBE for services to banking as "patentor of the personal identification number".

He has also been placed in the Scottish engineering hall of fame alongside John Logie Baird, the inventor of the television.

According to the ATM Industry Association (ATMIA), as of 2015, there were close to 3.5 million ATMs installed worldwide. However, the use of ATMs is gradually declining with the increase in cashless payment systems.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A "secure" system can be the most dangerous of all

Two decades ago, my life changed forever: hearing Bruce Schneier explain that “security” doesn’t exist in the abstract. You can only be secure from some threat. A fire alarm won’t protect you from burglaries. A condom won’t protect you from mass shootings. It seems obvious, but how often do we hear about “security” without any mention of who is being made secure, and from which threat?

Take the US welfare system. It is very “secure” in that it is hedged in by a thicket of red-tape, audits, inspections and onerous procedures. To get food stamps, housing vouchers, or cash aid, you must navigate a Soviet-grade bureaucratic system of Kafkaesque proportions. Indeed, one of the great ironies of the post-Cold War world is that the USA has become a “Utopia Of Rules” (as David Graeber put it), subjecting everyday people to the state-run bureacracies that the USAUSAUSA set endlessly ridiculed the USSR for:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/02/02/david-graebers-the-utopia-of-rules-on-technology-stupidity-and-the-secret-joys-of-bureaucracy/

(The right says it wants to “shrink the US government until fits in a bathtub — and then drown it” — but not the whole government. They want unlimited government bloat for that part of the state that is dedicated to tormenting benefits claimants, especially if its functions are managed by a Beltway Bandit profiteer who bills Uncle Sucker up the wazoo for rubber-stamping “DENIED” on every claim.)

The US benefits system has a sophisticated, expensive, fully staffed anti-fraud system — but it’s a highly selective form of anti-fraud. The system is oriented solely to prevent fraud against itself, with no thought to protecting benefits recipients themselves from fraud.

And those recipients — by definition the poorest and most vulnerable among us — are easy pickings for continuous, ghastly, eye-watering acts of fraud. These benefits are distributed via prepaid debit cards — EBT Cards — that lack the basic security measures that every other kind of card has had for years. These are simple magstripe cards, lacking basic chip-and-pin defenses, to say nothing of contactless countermeasures.

That means that fraudsters can — and do — install skimmers in the point-of-sale terminals used by benefits recipients to withdraw their cash benefits, pay for food using SNAP (AKA Food Stamps), and receive other benefits.

It’s impossible to overstate how widespread these skimmers are, and how much money criminals make by stealing from poor people. Writing for Businessweek, Jessica Fu describes the mad scramble benefits recipients go through every month, standing by ATMs at midnight on the night of the first of every month in hopes of withdrawing the cash they use to pay for their rent and utility bills before it is stolen by a crook who captured their card number with a skimmer:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2023-06-28/ebt-theft-takes-millions-of-dollars-from-the-neediest-americans

One of Fu’s sources, Lexisnexis Risk Solutions’s Haywood Talcove, describes these EBT cards as having the security of a “glorified hotel room key.” He recounts how US police departments saw a massive explosion in EBT skimming: from 300 complaints in January 2022 to 18,000 in January 2023.

The skimmer rings are extremely well organized. The people who install the skimmers — working in pairs, with one person to distract the cashier while the other quickly installs the skimmer — don’t know who they work for. Neither do the people who use cards cloned from skimmer data to cash out benefits recipients’ accounts. When they are arrested, they refuse to turn on their immediate recruiters, fearing reprisals against their families.

These low-level crooks stroll up to ATMs and feed a succession of cloned cards into them, emptying account after account. Or they swipe cards at grocery checkouts, buying cases of Red Bull and other easily sold grocery products with some victim’s entire SNAP balance.

Some police agencies are pursuing these criminal gangs and trying figure out who’s running them, but the authorities who issue SNAP cards are doing little to nothing to stop the pipeline at their end. Simply upgrading SNAP terminals to chip-and-pin would exponentially raise the cost and complexity that thieves incur.

Indeed, that’s why every other kind of payment card uses these systems. How is it that these systems were upgraded, while SNAP cards remain in mired in 20th century “glorified hotel room key” territory? Well, as our friends on the right never cease to remind us: “incentives matter.”

When your credit card gets cloned, it’s your banks and credit card company that pays for the losses, not you. So the banks demanded (and funded) the upgrade to new anti-fraud measures. By contrast, most states have no system for refunding stolen benefits to skimmers’ victims.

In other words, all of the anti-fraud in the benefits system is devoted to catching benefits cheating — a phenomenon that is so rare as to be almost nonexistent (1.54%), notwithstanding right wingers’ fevered, Reagan-era folktales about “welfare queens”:

https://blog.gitnux.com/food-stamp-fraud-statistics/

Meanwhile, the most widespread and costly form of fraud in the benefits system — fraud perpetrated against benefits recipients — is blithely ignored.

Really, it’s worse than that. In deciding to protect the welfare system rather than welfare recipients, we’ve made it vastly harder for benefits claimants who’ve been victimized by fraudsters to remain fed and sheltered. After all, if we made it simple and straightforward for benefits recipients to re-claim money that was stolen from them, we’d make it that much easier to defraud the system.

“Security” is always and forever a matter of securing some specific thing, against some specific risk. In other words, security reflects values — it reveals whose risk matters, and whose doesn’t. For the American benefits system, risks to the system matter. Risks to people don’t.

It’s not just the welfare system that prioritizes its own risks against the people it exists to serve. Think of the systems used to fight drug abuse in clinical settings.

Medical facilities that use or dispense powerful pain-killers have exquisitely tuned, sophisticated, frequently audited security systems to prevent patients from tricking their doctors or pharmacists into administering extra drugs (especially opioids). “Extra” in this case means “more drugs than are strictly necessary to manage pain.”

The rationale for this is only incidentally medical. Someone who gets a little too much painkiller during a medical procedure or an acute pain episode is not at any particular risk of enduring harm — the risks are minor and easily managed (say, by keeping a patient in bed a little longer while they recover from sedation).

The real agenda here is preventing addiction and abuse by addicted people. There’s a genuine problem with opioid abuse, and that problem does have its origins in overprescription. But — crucially — that overprescription wasn’t the result of wimpy patients insisting on endless painkillers until they enslaved themselves to their pills.

Rather, the opioid epidemic has its origins in the billionaire Sackler crime family, whose Purdue Pharma used scientific fraud, cash incentives, and other deceptive practices to trick, coerce, or bribe doctors into systematically overprescribing their Oxycontin cash cow, even as they laundered their reputation with showy charitable donations:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/12/monopolist-solidarity/#sacklers-billions

The Sacklers got to keep their billions — and people undergoing painful medical procedures or living with chronic pain are left holding the bag, subject to tight pain-med controls that forces them to prove — through increasingly stringent systems — that they truly deserve their medicine.

In other words, the beneficiary of the opioid control system is the system itself — not the patients who need opioids.

There’s an extremely disturbing — even nightmarish — example of this in the news: the Yale Fertility Clinic, where hundreds of women endured unimaginably painful egg harvesting procedures with no anaesthesia at all.

These women had complained for years about the pain they suffered, and many had ended up needing emergency care after the fact because of traumatic injuries caused by undergoing the procedure without pain control. But the doctors and nurses at the Yale clinic ignored their screams of pain and their post-operative complaints.

It turned out that an opioid-addicted nurse had been swapping the fentanyl in the drug cabinet for saline, and taking the fentanyl home for her own use.

This made national headlines at the time, and it is the subject of “The Retrievals,” a new New York Times documentary series podcast:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/22/podcasts/serial-the-retrievals-yale-fertility-clinic.html

If the pain medication management system was designed to manage pain, then these thefts would have been discovered early on. If the system was designed so that anyone who experienced pain was treated until the pain was under control, the deception would have been uncovered almost immediately.

As Stafford Beer said, “the purpose of any system is what it does.” The pain medication management system was designed to manage pain medication, not pain itself.

The system was designed to be secure from opioid-seeking addicted patients. It was not designed to make patients secure from pain. Its values — our values, as a society — were revealed through its workings.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/13/whose-security/#for-me-not-thee

[Image ID: A down-the-barrel view of a massive, battleship-gray artillery piece protruding from the brick battlement of a fortress. From the black depths of the barrel shines a red neon 'EBT' sign.]

Image: Bjarne Henning Kvaale (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Oscarsborg_28cm_Krupp_cannon_4_-_panoramio.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[sneakerguybln]

Prison revolt at the Morton prison - part 1

Morton is a prison in the Nevada desert. In the prison system of the Federal Republic of Dystopia it's on grade 5 of the 7 grade security scheme - ranking from grade 1 "Low security" to grade 7 "Super Max security". In 2098 a huge prison revolt happened and lasted for 3 weeks with several guards wounded and 3 guards dead. The revolt was planned, organized and started by the "Honourable Council of the Ten". This self-styled council saw themself as leaders of the inmates. This council was part of a trial of inmate self-administration and was introduced in some pilot prisons of grade 1 to 5 prisons. Within the legislation it was called "Help council" and was planned to be an elected body of 10 inmates. It quickly switched to be an instrument of criminals to control other inmates and use ressources to continue criminal activities. In most prisons it was renamed by the inmates - inofficially - and never elected freely. It was abolished after the Morton prison revolt.

All participants of this riot will be charged - all 904 inmates of the cellblocks that participated in the riots are counted as participants - under the Prison Mutiny Law (PML) that sets draconic measures.

In this first part we look at the 10 members of the former council who were the ringleaders. Under the PML the ringleaders are charged for the murders committed in a revolt or mutiny regardless wether they did the murder(s) or someone else.

They were split into 5 groups and sent to different places in the Federal Republic of Dystopia to reduce their influence.

Giorgio (28, left) and Vittorio (30, right) Marconi are brothers and grew up in a crime family. Their father, uncle and the two brothers were accused several times for drug trafficking but acquitted each time. They were sentenced two years ago for the brutal beating of two police officers. They were sentenced to 31 years prison sentence each. Three months before the revolt, new evidences emerged about their connections to drug trafficking, human trafficking and murder of two witnesses in a case against their father. They saw the revolt as their last opportunity to be in freedom. It was quite sure that the new evidence would send them right into a life sentence in a grade 7 prison, most likely in solitary confinement.

Their new sentence is: 5 life sentences, 90 years, 12 strokes of the cane after this trial and every second year 10 strokes of the cane until they turn 60. They'll spend the rest of their lives shackled in solitary confinement in a grade 7 prison.

Eric Mosley (24, left) and Damian Hintz (23, right) are both bisexual and fell in love in prison. They were molested and tortured by homophobic guards after one guard saw them having sex and instigated his colleagues to mistreat the couple. They killed that guard while the revolt was running. Mosley was at Morton for six months when the revolt broke out. He was sentenced to 9 years for an armed robbery with possibility of parole after 7 years. Damian Hintz was sentenced to 13 years of prison for manipulating ATMs, gambling machines and hacking into computers. He was a mastermind and made for his bosses more than 11 million $. They promised him 10%. He never saw a penny. He was offered to snitch his bosses to see his sentence reduced to 3 years under house arrest but he refused as the bosses threatened his wife, his parents and his young sister. He was 21 as he was arrested.

Mosley and Hintz got three life sentences in addition to their former sentences. They'll spend the rest of their lives shackled in a double cell in a grade 7 prison. They'll get 8 strokes of the cane each after the trial and 4 strokes every second year until they turn 60.

In the aftermath of their trial 7 former guards of the Morton prison will be tried for molesting and torturing inmates.

Ciro Vallanzasca (34, left) and Marvin Colb (25, right) will be the two lucky guys of the ringleaders. Ciro is the nephew of a senator of the Federal Republic of Dystopia and Marvin is his assistant. Ciro had a long criminal career but avoided prison until he turned 32. He was sentenced to 7 years for money laundering. He was transferred to Morton prison after he beat his cellmate on his second day after his sentence. Marvin Colb was sentenced 5 years ago for drugging other people - men and women - and selling their explicit pictures on porn sites or blackmailing them. He was nearly killed by one of his victims what led to his arrest and trial. He turned assistant of Ciro Vallanzasca a short time after they became cellmates. The remainder of his prison term was just 1 year. Both guys were against the revolt and expelled for that from the council a few days before the revolt. At the court they told everything about the council decisions and about the plannings. At the end they were acquitted from the murders of the three guards but had to face another harsh punishment for prison mutinies.

They were sentenced each to 5 additional years for enabling conspiracy and mutiny (instead of telling the guards beforehand). In addition they'll receive 5 strokes of cane each and additional 4 strokes six months before their planned release. They'll get a mandatory vasectomy as ringleaders of mutinies as these people are barred from reproducing (along with some other crimes). It will be a so-called "ultra vasectomy" removing large parts of the vas deferens to make a reversal operation impossible. They'll spend the next five years shackled in a grade 7 prison together in one cell. After these five years they go into a grade 4 prison where a cousin of the Marconis cut the word "traitor" into their faces.

Timothey "Red Timmy" Claus (30, left) and Marlon Estrada (32, right) are communist activist who planned a terrorist attack on an economic meeting three years ago. That plan was foiled but they were sentenced to 60 years in prison each. At the beginning of the revolt they beat two guards nearly to death.

They got an additional sentence of four life sentences, 12 strokes of the cane after the trial and 10 strokes each year until they turn 60. They'll spend the rest of their lives shackled in total solitary confinement of a grade 7 prison. These two convinced the other members of the council to start the revolt. They planned a huge prison break out and were in hope that all prisoner support their communist ideas. Claus and Estrada have three weapon arsenals that remained undiscovered and they wanted to infiltrate army posts with their fellow inmates. Claus styled himself as general secretary of the council and Estrada styled himself as president of the council despite these titles didn't exist. On the way to the prison Claus and Estrada tried to kill a guard in the prisoner transport van in the hope to get killed to avoid their life sentences. But that didn't work. Both tried to go on hunger strikes but were force fed and started eating after few days of force feeding. They lived until their 70s in prison.

Steve Lee (19, left) and Kevin Calvert (25, right) are the last two of the ringleaders to be sentenced. Steve Lee split from his religious family at the age of 15 and began his short criminal career. He sold drugs and convinced friends to take drugs while being abstinent. He loved to make videos of people who got the drugs from him. At the age of 16 he stole a car as cops chased him. With that car he injured two guys. Despite his criminal behavuiour he stopped and tried to help the two injured. So he was arrested. He was sentenced for drug selling, for the car theft and for the accident. His sentence was 15 years in prison with possible parole after 12 years. Because of his calculating nature he was sentenced as an adult and transferred immediately to the adult prison. He gained huge respect in prison quickly and forced another inmate to retire from his post in the council.

Kevin Calvert worked together with two cops to set up a trap for a group of four pedophiles. He killed all four by torturing them to death. He was sentenced to life in prison. He was called up into the council on the first day at Morton prison.

Both guys were sentenced to additional three life sentences and 7 strokes of the cane after sentence and 4 strokes every year until they turn 60. They were set to spend the rest of their lives shackled in solitary confinement in a grade 7 prison. But Steve Lee was offered to take part in a "harvesting program". This was set up to get blood donations. Inmates in this program get special food and a fitness program. This treatment makes it possible to recreate blood quicker - and donate more often. Inmates of the harvesting program are released at the age of 35 into a 5 year probation period. After 4 years of solitary confinement Kevin Calvert was sent to a grade 3 prison. At the age of 35 he got sterilized and pardoned next day. He lived a good life later as he got donations from several groups fighting pedophilia.

[ask-the-sagents]

Ask the Agents Masterpost

This is gonna be the post for pretty much everything about the universe and the characters. It'll be updated on occasion and will remain pinned on my profile - more under the cut:

Edit: I've made a lot of changes so consider this an AU

Edit: (also check out the tags. Usually, I'll add in additional info (: )

Discord Server

Most recent update on this post: 8/8/24

Character Pages

What is Sanitization?

Start Reading Here!

Askblog Stuff

The idols will be available for questions sometimes, but not all the time. I'll make a post and update the askbox with whoever is available for questions currently.

Magic Anons are allowed!

Posts will be posted as they are completed and will be a mix of answering questions and random comics!

If a main character (3,4,5,8)is unavailable, you can still ask them questions, but they won't answer it til after they get back

If a character is available but spotty, it just means they won't answer filler questions for the time being

World Info

The Idols:

Marie - Age: 30 - she/her - bisexual

Callie - Age: 30 - she/they - pansexual, trans

Pearl - Age: 27 - they/she - Lesbian, nonbinary

Marina - Age: 24 - she/her - lesbian

Deep Cut - Coming soon!

General World Info:

In the beginning, it takes place 6 months after the events of Octo Expansion. Currently (as of 8/8/24) it has been about a year.

Spawn points don't exist outside of Turf Wars/Ranked battles, etc.

Octavio has been captured and currently resides in a high security prison. He is never getting out.

Octavio had used sanitization and hypnosis as a tool for control and punishment during his reign. He never had any intention on liberating his citizens.

There is only one hospital on the surface that handles Sanitization cases atm. This is due to it being rarely seen on the surface during octavios time, so not many people were researching it.

Squidjumping within city limits is illegal unless if it's an emergency

Instead of sewers, there are tunnels connecting the surface and the underground.

NSS:

Their current goal is to find out where all of the sanitization infections are coming from, helping to acclimate octolings to the surface, and helping to establish a working government/system to the citizens below the surface who are too afraid to leave (works alongside other agencies) Sometimes, they help around the community as well.

To their knowledge, there are no more hypnotized octolings.

Although small, NSS is a publicly known and important government organization

Captain Cuttlefish is deceased, NSS is run by Marie and Callie currently, although marie takes on a bigger chunk of the responsibilities.

There's a temporary housing area set up for octolings new to the surface not far from the clinic. They stay there until homes are found for them, which usually takes just a couple of weeks. They work with social services to help them beyond that as well.

Marina and Pearl are agents 6 and 7, however their role is much smaller and mainly help on the side of helping misplaced citizens find homes.

There is a single clinic near octo canyon as of this point that the NSS helped to establish with Inkopolis Memorial (due to a large chunk of sanitizations being found in that area) It's fairly small and typically only has one person working at a time, usually Agent 5 or another doctor from one of the local hospitals.

Inkling/Octoling Stuff:

They take more after the human side

They bleed actual blood instead of ink

They have claws that they can use for defense - ink will fill the tip of the claws.

Everybody has a limiter, which is a chip installed in their arm. Without this, they could use up too much ink when battling and possibly die due to their bodies not being able to keep up with production. When low on ink, their tentacles will become extremely dull and lose almost all color. They'll become extremely weak and lethargic until their hearts finally stop.

They have more flexible bones, but they can still break

They have 3 hearts

Inklings and Octolings gain their squid/octo form around puberty - they are in human form up until then.

Development of a person's squid/octo form can be stunted during puberty if they have health issues

They cannot be in saltwater but can in other types. It takes about 5 minutes of being in saltwater for someone to dissolve

Ink burns are rare but can happen. It's caused by consistent exposure to enemy ink in a single area or an extremely strong shot. They can be painful, but they will heal and fade over time - they turn blue in color despite the color of the enemy ink.

When a cephalopod feels intense feelings of romantic love for another, their ink color will subconsciously change to match their partner's. They don't technically need to be together for this to happen.

They cannot fall asleep while in squid/octo form; if they do, they will change back automatically.

They have to use special shears to cut their tentacles or else it would be painful and cause possible damage.

Octolings only have some control over their tentacles, and usually, their tentacles can give hints to their mood. Typically, the older they get, the more control they have, but this isn't always the case. The amount of control changes depending on the person.

Inklings and octolings reach full maturity in their 20s-30s. This is where they develop a secondary color at the tip of their tentacles, and octolings will also have their fingers matching their ink color. Typically, octolings reach this earlier than inklings, but everyone is different.

They can get grey/white ink streaks due to age or extreme stress or anxiety

this will be updated as more information becomes available or as things change!

Updated hylian Font chart

Hylian Font chart (old, ignore this one!)

[thisismeracing]

https://www.tumblr.com/thisismeracing/737177411791257600/httpswwwtumblrcomthisismeracing7364627668739?source=share

bono!reader head-canons (pt. 4) (glad yall like this insanity)

constantly falls asleep w/out taking her earrings out. whether it be when taking a nap or falling asleep while working in bed those earrings are staying in. so mick has taken up the mantle of taking them out and putting them back in her jewelry box

had those glow in the dark stick on stars on her childhood bedroom ceiling and maybe she still does in her grown up bedroom that she shares with mick

gets a cartilage piercing on the ear that doesn't have her piercings dedicated to working for merc. and the jewelry that she puts in it is a small “47” stud that she got custom made. her piercings represent her biggest achievements in life and her being able to let herself be loved and be in love took a lot of work to get to, so it absolutely gets acknowledged in what she considers to be an achievement

calls james allison “allie” because when she says james she means vowles, and when james a. came to merc in 2017 she needed a way to differentiate the james’.

has an orange cat [purely based of this tt: https://www.tiktok.com/@mildwestsami/video/7136290369683131690] im leaning towards either diesel or luna for the name, but i can be persuaded into considering other ones. those are just the two that seem the most fitting atm

carries her cat like a baby and buys mini furniture for said baby

i think it would be funny if this cat was a stray that was roaming around a gp and she decided to adopt them after checking if they had a microchip and owners

steals micks hoodies/sweaters and they have a bartering system where if she wants one of mick’s newly purchased article of clothing she has to give him one of his old ones back to secure the new one. great economically for her, not so much for this boy

pulls mick in by his belt loops when she wants him close to her

loves being close enough to her lover that she can feel and hear the rhythms of his breathes

having her head resting on top of her papa’s chest where his heart is, listening to the beats of his heart will, without fail, soothe her. it started when she was a smol babe but just because she’s a grown up now doesn’t mean that it wont work

her team headset is covered in small stickers around the merc logo

ok so the jewelry she has in her first cartilage piercing she got for being hired at merc is this [https://www.etsy.com/listing/729980335/arrow-earringscartilage-earring-16g?click_key=198d47f7f1895e88c7eef3638427353c6eef89af%3A729980335&click_sum=65e3a9a5&ref=user_profile&pro=1&frs=1]

has a guest room just for her in certain team members houses [lew, the wolffs, james v,]

i could also see drivers having a room for her (seb, kimi, jense, nando)

constantly tries to persuade (poach) hannah schmitz from working at rb to merc

i could see her meshing well with oscar

her first australian gp she got gifted a small koala plush from one of the drivers (im leaning towards michael) and for the years following it’s been a tradition for all of the drivers who wanted to participate to nominate and vote who would get her a new plush to add to the collection. the only rules being it has to be a koala and it cant be one she has already gotten in years past. best believe there have been fights for the privilege of being the koala giver

[and with that i will end this segment of head-canons, yes i breached the second google doc page again i dont want to talk about it]

happy new year and i can't wait for the 2024 season to start so i will grace the inbox with more bon

(also yes i know this isnt in the usual bulleted list format that i usually do for these hcs but i dont have the patience to re-format this ask on my phone cause tumblr decided to delete my bullet points)

☕️

prev

omg yes to everything sagksjgksdjg I won't even add, just appreciate this whole ass headcanon <3

tiktok link (it says unavailable for me :/)

i think it would be funny if this cat was a stray that was roaming around a gp and she decided to adopt them after checking if they had a microchip and owners // like corinna did w a dog during the Brazilian gp *crying into my hands*

piercing link

*virtual hug* its perfect