#between rounds/days you lose in-game audio for voices

[bluefuecoco]

i like to think of myself as brave with scary things, but my friends and I played Content Warning (similar to lethal company) and I let out several very real and terrified screams

[bunnimew]

Plan Your Naps

Rating: G Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Characters: Jack Frost, Bunnymund, Toothiana, North, Sandy Tags: Humor, Characters Play Dungeons & Dragons, Author does not play Dungeons & Dragons Summary: For @rotgsecretsanta 2022 Prompt 55

It's hard enough DMing a game when one of the players keeps losing their dice and making everyone wait, but it's even worse when...

On AO3 here.

“Okay,” Jack said. “Roll for damage.”

They sat in relative silence while they listened to Aster picking up his dice and rolling them on the table. There was the telltale rattle of a pair of D10s skittering across wood finish, then a dip in sound as one of them stopped suddenly, and finally the impressive cursing of an Australian man growing more and more distant. 

Tooth’s voice, caught halfway between worry and amusement, came over their combined speakers. “Are you okay over there?”

“Yeah,” Aster called from… somewhere. It wasn’t like any of them could tell when they were only doing audio for this Dungeons and Dragons session. “One of ‘em just rolled under my chair. I’ll find it.”

“Probably,” Jack joked, sarcasm heavy in his tone. He folded his arms on the table, over the map in front of him. His laptop sat pretty far away, making room for the notebook that kept track of their campaign and his dice tray next to it. “You know this is the kind of thing a dice tray is for, right?”

“I’ll put it on my Christmas list,” Aster grumbled, barely audible. He might not have meant for them to hear that at all. Oops.

“It’s okay,” North soothed. His tone was kind, at odds with what he said next. “I am sure we didn’t need his help, anyway.”

They shared a laugh while Aster continued to look, then laughed harder when they heard a dull thump from his mic and a new round of cursing. 

Jack shook his head even though none of them could see. “You guys need all hands on deck. I mean, maybe you’ll get lucky, I’ve seen crazier stuff out of you, but this giant isn’t low level, so…” 

Jack had taken care to make it a hard, but not impossible, enemy to beat. He’d even considered Aster’s usual luck with dice in calculating the giant’s health. They would need his help. 

…If he ever found his other D10 again. 

The rattle of a re-rolled die came over the speakers, and then Aster’s voice, clear and close. “Eight and six.”

“Awesome,” Jack said, writing fourteen down in his notes and subtracting from the giant’s hit points. “Glad to see you actually contributing.”

North and Tooth’s raucous laughter nearly covered Aster’s indignant reply. “How is it my fault if the dice hate me?”

North quieted his laughter just long enough to say, “Maybe if you didn’t throw them on floor so much?”

“You know what?” Tooth said, barely keeping her laughter in check. “If it would make you roll higher, I will buy you a dice tray.”

Even Jack had to laugh. “You might have to get him a new set, too,” he added. “This one probably has too many bad memories of carpet and rabbit fur.”

“I’ll have you know,” Aster said pointedly, “I keep my floors incredibly clean. And my babies don’t shed that much.”

“Of course, of course,” North agreed consolingly. Then he snickered again, which ruined the whole effect.

“Okay, okay,” Tooth interrupted. “Let’s get a move on. We don’t have all day. Who’s next?”

Jack consulted his notes before answering. “Alright Sandy, your turn.”

Sandy never talked much, and his proficiency with sign language was their primary argument for why these sessions should be video. Sandy had insisted that audio was sufficient though, and that he could just type his responses if the words were too much for him. 

Dead silence from his mic was a little unusual, though. 

“Sandy?” Jack tried again.

“Sandy?” Tooth repeated, concern in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” North said comfortingly. “Right, Sandy?” But there was still no answer. “Maybe just AFK,” he continued after a beat.

And then they heard the tiny snore. 

“Oh em gee,” Jack said, just before Aster cried out.

“He’s sleeping!”

“Are you serious?” Tooth asked, disbelief all over her voice.

“He takes nap,” North said, tone flat, “while we die by giant.”

Jack snorted a laugh and had to cover his mouth to prevent the harsh sound from getting to his mic. “Maybe we can wake him up?”

“Sandy!” Tooth cried as if she really needed to throw her voice over the speakers. “Wake up!”

“Sandy, don’t leave us like this!” Aster yelled through his mic.

“Sandy!” North shouted desperately, like this was a real emergency.

There continued to be no reply. The silence stretched. They heard another little snore. 

“Does anybody, like…” Jack asked awkwardly, “live near him? And can go, I don’t know, poke him or something?”

"I could, but I would have to put on pants, and I'm not going to do that." Tooth said. "I would rather lose this campaign."

Aster snorted. “Did not know you felt that strongly about pants.”

“No, I’m with her,” Jack said quickly. “Down with pants.”

“So what do we do?” North asked.

“Um,” Jack answered uncertainly. He hesitated long enough to hear another soft snore come over the speakers. “I guess we pause here until next week?”

“I guess we have to,” Tooth replied.

Aster’s grumbling floated through the speakers, again soft enough that he probably didn’t mean for them to hear. “And you say I don’t contribute.”

North laughed again. “Sandy would roll higher than you in his sleep, my friend.”

“What?” Aster yelled. They all heard his hands hit the table. 

“And that is my cue to head out,” Jack said hurriedly. “Talk to you later. Bye!”

He waited just long enough to hear a chorus of goodbyes from North and Tooth, and one accusatory, “Coward!” from Aster, then Jack hit the disconnect button and sat back in his chair.

With a shake of his head and one last disbelieving laugh, Jack said to himself, or rather to a Sandy that couldn’t hear him: 

“You have got to plan your naps better, Sanderson.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 2

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your stalker gets closer.

Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn't sleep much. Shallow spurts laced with fear. Your dreams when they came were vague but horrifying. A shadow, a voice, the feeling of being watched. Always.

You were roused by a creak. You'd left your door half-open last night. 

You sat up, the curtains drawn, and looked around. You rubbed your temple and pushed the covers away from you. You pulled down the hem of your tee and dragged your feet across the room. You elbowed the door open and stepped into the hall.

You looked around the corner into the living room. Bucky sat on the couch where you’d left him the night before. He cradled the tablet on his thigh as he yawned and flicked the screen. 

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, your throat dry and scratchy. 

“You?” He asked as he looked up. “I just sent the audio into forensics for review. We might be able to run analysis on his voice and they’re working on tracing the call.”

“And what do I do?” You crossed your arms.

“What you’ve been doing,” he set the tablet on the coffee table and stood. He stretched his arms above him, the metal plates of his left contracting as he lowered it. “As far as we know, he has no idea about us. I came in the back and to be honest, as a civilian, you react before you think. He called you to make sure you were still here. To reassure himself that not all was lost.”

“How do you know this? Do you deal with this often?”

“Well, no, I deal with assassins and spies more often but… well, I can’t divulge the extent of our intelligence. I can only say that what we found sets him on par with my usual work.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer if I actually knew what was going on?” You prodded.

“No, trust me. You know what you need to.” He said staunchly.

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and shrugged. “You want a coffee?”

“If you’re making some,” he rubbed his nose as he watched you cross the room, “I’ll leave before you but… I’ll be around.”

“Like last night?” You challenged.

“That’s on me. I shouldn’t have been so careless but the next time he calls, you won’t be alone.”

“Apparently I haven’t been for a while,” you said. “If he has my number, what else does he have?”

“Think about what you have. You have me and the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. behind you,” he reproached. “And let me tell you, when I’m given a mission, I complete it.”

“I want to believe you,” you said as you took out the canister of coffee, “I really do.”

👁️

You were distracted on your way to work. The voice lingered in your head, the words. The necklace bouncing over the collar of your coat was barely a comfort. What would Bucky do if the killer appeared right then? Could he get to your fast enough? He said he’d be close, watching, but was he closer than your stalker?

You picked a ball of lint from your glove as you ran up the station steps and onto the street. Once you were at work you could forget. You’d be surrounded by people; co-workers, clients, and the occasional messenger. For once, the ringing phone welcomed you. You knew what awaited you on the other end; an appointment to be made or a transfer to another part of the office. Simple.

Your boss, Mr. Drousseau, was often first to the office. He was unlocking the door as you rounded the corner. He cradled a vase of flowers against him, his briefcase clutched in his hand, as he twisted the key and tried to open the door with his other arm. You rushed forward as the door threatened to fall shut again.

“Here,” you grabbed the door and he blinked at you in surprise. “I got it.”

He grunted and wrenched his key out before stepping inside. You followed as he crossed to your desk and plunked the vase down. He flicked a petal from his shoulder as he turned back to you.

“What are those?” You looked at the long-stemmed tulips; out of season and no doubt expensive. “Is your wife--?”

“Some carrier just handed them off,” He set his briefcase on a chair in the waiting area and took off his long jacket. “They’ve got your name on them?”

“What?” You neared the desk and took the card. Your name was scrawled in slanted letters on the front. You placed your bag beside the vase and carefully opened the card. “I don’t know who--”

You almost dropped the cardstock but instead closed it again. Your cheek twitched as you looked up at Drousseau and tapped the card with your fingernail. 

“A surprise from my father,” you lied. “He lives so far away…”

“Mmm,” Drousseau nodded as he hung his jacket. “Well, next time, tell him to have them sent to you directly.”

“Sure. Yeah, sorry,” you kept the card between two fingers as you unzipped your coat. “I’ll send you a copy of today’s roster.”

He grumbled as he grabbed his briefcase and jingled his keys as he went to his office door. He paused as he unlocked the door. “Coffee.” He said. “Espresso if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

You smiled at his back and let out a sigh only when his door closed behind him. He saw you as a glorified barista and didn’t seem to realise that you organised the chaos of his own success. Without you, he wouldn’t know which way was up. Well, he might learn that soon enough.

You slipped out of your coat and hung it. You pinched the card and shuddered as you carefully opened it again. There were no words on the inside. Only a stark, red splotch. You ran your thumb over it and the edge flaked away. It couldn’t be… blood. 

But what else would it be? Who else would send them?

You closed the card and crumpled it in your hand. Panic squeezed your heart and you raced to the paper shredder hidden behind the copier. You flicked the switch and fed the card into the machine. The grind of the blade echoed your stomach. You hadn’t eaten that morning; you couldn’t.

You looked down at the flower dangling from your neck. You spoke to it quietly. “He sent flowers,” you felt crazy, like you were talking to yourself, “What does that mean?”

Your phone vibe in your bag on the desk and you stepped past your chair. You fished around for your cell and pulled it out.

‘It means he’s trying to scare you,’ Bucky’s text flashed across the screen, quickly followed by another. ‘Don’t let him. I’m here.’

You shook your hand and didn’t reply. You put your phone face down on your desk and touched your temples. You weren’t sure that anyone, even Bucky, could keep you safe.

👁️

It was only the flowers that day. You spent much of your working hours watching the door. You watched over your shoulder on your way home, convinced that every fellow pedestrian and passenger was a monster. When you got to your apartment, you locked the door and checked every inch of your apartment. 

As you paced, your phone shook. You stared at it until it stilled and then it began again. You answered it shakily and let out a long breath as Bucky’s voice rose from the speaker.

“You’re not responding to me. You can’t do that. I need to make certain you’re safe at all times. That’s my job. You understand?” He chided.

“You have the bug, don’t you? You can hear everything.” You sat and fidgeted on the couch. “And you’re close. You’d know if anyone… if anyone…”

“Yes, but you’re cooperation only helps, alright?” He said. “I know you’re scared but right now he’s just playing games. He’s trying to make you do something stupid so don’t do that. You’re doing exactly what he wants; you’re panicking.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you hissed, “That’s the point.”

“Go to your window. The one away from the street in your bedroom.” He said.

“What?”

“Just do it and look up a few floors.”

You sniffed and stood up. You went to your room and rounded the bed. You pulled aside the curtain and searched the brick building just across the alley. A small glint came through a window only three floors up. You heard a tap on the other end; the sound of metal on glass.

“See. I’m close. You’re safe. He won’t get any closer than me. I promise.” He said.

“Oh, uh,” you stepped back from the window. “Okay. I… thank you.”

“It’s my job,” he said, “And yours is to get some rest. You’re no good exhausted. That’s what he wants.”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

The line clicked and you sat on the foot of your bed. You dropped your phone to the mattress and took a breath. You got up slowly and went to the bathroom. You closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. You unclasped the necklace and hung it from the cabinet handle to keep from losing it. You undressed blindly and let your clothes heap on the floor.

The rings of the shower curtain chimed as you pulled it open and placed the stopper in the drain. You turned the faucet until it steam and stepped into the rising flood. You stretched before you lowered yourself down into the tub. Your stiff muscles loosened and you felt the day float away.

Just a moment of peace before it would all come back. Just a moment to yourself.

👁️

The next morning was unusually sunny though the night had been little different. Despite your fatigue, sleep was still elusive. Even when you did manage to dose, it was shallow and unsatisfying. You woke with a weight in the back of your head and finished two cups of coffee before you readied for your last day of work before the weekend.

The tulips remained on your desk. You’d forgotten about them even with the stream of compliments on the bouquet. You’d offered it to several coworkers but had met only with polite refusal. You sat and set yourself up as Drousseau shuffled around in his office. 

Your first call of the day was easy enough. One of Drousseau’s oldest clients needed to be patched through. You hit transfer but before you could put the phone down, it rang again. You hit answer and gave your usual greeting.

“You like the flowers?” The same, eerie voice as two nights before. “They made me think of you.”

“What?” You breathed as you pushed yourself away from the desk and your chair rolled back until the spiral cord was taut. “What do you--”

“You’re not the rose type. You’re so sweet. So pure, baby girl.” He continued as your stomach plummeted. You looked around at the flurry of activity around you; the whir of the copier, the clacking of keys, the quiet chatter of employees. It was surreal. “Someone like you in a world like this is made to be used.”

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m at work. You can’t call here--” Your cell vibed beside your keyboard as you tried to keep your voice down.

“I can do whatever I want, baby girl. I have done everything I want when I want… except you… no, you need to wait. It has to be the right way.” He snarled. “Yes, soon. You will be ready soon.”

“Please--”

The line went dead as your cell began to buzz incessantly. You slammed down the receiver and grabbed your mobile as it shook. You stood and looked around. No one seemed to notice your distress. You stormed off to the restroom and closed yourself in. You slid your finger across the screen and held it to your ear.

“Bucky?” You croaked.

“It’s me.” He confirmed. “You alright? That him?”

“Y-yes,” you trembled as you braced the sink. “He said… he said soon. Bucky, he’s going to kill me. I know it.”

“Shhhh, please, take a breath.” He coaxed. “And count, like I showed you.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you whined. “Please, I can’t do this.”

“Breathe,” he ordered, “One…” He began to count as you stared in the mirror. You nodded in time until your breaths evened out and you huffed into the phone. “Good, good. Now, you have to act like everything is alright. Stay at work. You’re safe there.”

“And… after?”

“You know I’ll be there. I already am, alright? I know everyone who walks through that door, honey. You trust me?”

Your lashes fluttered and you let go of the sink. ‘Honey.’ Your mind lingered on that word but you quickly shrugged it off.

“I do,” you said, “You’ll protect me.”

“I will,” he assured you. “This creep is no match for me.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Okay. I’m alright. I gotta go back.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be here.”

👁️

When work was done, you didn’t go directly to the subway. You needed to sleep and you needed to forget. There was one way to do both; alcohol. Just down the block was a liquor store. You’d grab a bottle of wine and be on your way. A brief detour before you could hide once more in your boxlike apartment.

You crossed the street and a figure caught in the corner of your eye. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone as you turned down the sidewalk. You held up the cell and angled it so you could see the reflection over your shoulder. There was a man a few feet behind; he was tall but walking slowly with his head down, a hood casting shadows over his face. You slowly lowered your phone and squeezed until you thought it would break.

You neared the door of the shop. You knew he was still there. You dipped through the door and the chirp of the sensor made your flinch. You quickly flitted to the back aisle of scotch and whiskey and peered back to the front. The man in the hoodie passed the window but peered back at you as he did.

“A man,” you pulled out the necklace from beneath your jacket, “There’s a man following me. I saw him.”

Your phone quaked and you dropped the necklace. You fumbled with your cell and pretended to browse the aged malts. 

“I see him but I can’t see his face.” Bucky said. 

“I didn’t either. What do I do?”

“Stay calm. What are you even doing?”

“I was… gonna get some wine.” You went to the aisle of imports and scanned the shelves. “That’s all.”

“Well, get whatever and go home. Don’t worry about this creep. I’ll deal with him.” Bucky said. “He’s probably not even our guy, just another dirtbag.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just buy your wine and get to the train.” He hung up bluntly and you sighed.

You grabbed a cabernet and went to the counter. You paid and hid the bottle in your bucket bag. You reluctantly pushed through the door and swiftly turned down the street. The man was behind you. You checked again with your phone, this time with your camera on. You snapped a pic over your shoulder and quickly tucked it into your sleeve.

You looked up and saw another hooded man heading towards you. You almost tripped as he passed you and recognized Bucky’s short stubble poking out. You didn’t stop as a commotion rose behind you.

“Watch it,” Bucky growled. No response and you ran across the street. 

You hurried on and stopped at the corner to look back. Bucky stood with arms crossed against the front of a convenience store and the other man was gone. He nodded and pushed himself away from the chipped brick. You turned back and raced to the subway.

Home, home, home. Just get home.

👁️

Your apartment was already dark when you got home. The days grew shorter and shorter as the winter threatened to storm down on the city. You plopped your bottle of wine on the counter and kicked off your shoes. You hung your bag and coat from the rack and checked your phone.

‘Text when home.’ Bucky’s message seared into your vision.

You sent your response and uncorked the bottle. You poured yourself a glass and carried it to the living room with your cell. You left them on the coffee table as you went to change. You dumped your blouse, skirt, and thick stockings into the hamper along with your bra and panties. You took the necklace off and set it on your night table.

You pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and an old tee. You scooped up the necklace and took it with you into the front room. You hung it from the lamp beside the couch and took a gulp of wine as you searched for something to watch. The alcohol burned your hungry stomach.

A knock came at the door and you nearly choked as you set your glass down. You peered through the hole. It was Bucky. You unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“What are you doing here?”

“That was pretty creepy,” he said as he stepped past you without welcome. “Wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve cased the entire building. Didn’t see him around.”

“You think he would’ve followed me here? You said it was likely not him.”

“Maybe not but the guy was leery enough to follow you to the store,” Bucky went to the window and looked out. “You need to tell me when you change your plans.”

“Sorry, I-- It wasn’t far so I thought--”

“If you’re as scared as you’re acting, you’ll get your shit together and listen to me.” He closed the blinds. “You take a detour like that and that’s trouble for both of us.”

He rounded the armchair and neared the coffee table. He ran a metal finger around the rim of your glass. “Hope it was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, “I didn’t mean to--”

“You need something, you tell me. I’ll take care of it.” He interrupted. “You go anywhere, you clear it with me. We’re not fucking around anymore.”

“Bucky, I…” you pouted. “I didn’t--”

“Look, I’m not mad but I have to be strict. We don’t have room for mistakes.” He neared you and his face softened. “It’s for your own good, honey.”

You stared at him and reached to the collar of his jacket. He unzipped it and backed away to hang it over your own. You frowned.

“I already sent in an incident report. The Director said I should keep close watch tonight. Just in case.”

“Oh,” you watched him unlace his boots. “I… Okay?”

“I don’t mean to crowd you but better safe than sorry.” He stood.

“Right,” you sidled past him, “You want any wine?”

“Nah,” he waved you off, “Stuff doesn’t really do anything for me.”

You nodded and went back to the couch. You sat and hit continue watching. You picked at your fingernail anxiously. Bucky sat on the other side of the couch and groaned. He stretched his fingers and they cracked loudly.

“You hungry? I can order something? I don’t feel much like cooking.” You offered.

“If you’re hungry,” he shrugged. “You must be.”

You played with your phone and set it down to take another drink. “You like Chinese?”

“Sure,” he said, “Whatever you want, honey.”

You grabbed your phone and tried to hide your discomfort. Were you just rattled from the hooded creep? Paranoid because your life had turned into a murder mystery? Or was this man crossing a line?

You opened up the app and scrolled to the meal for two. You confirmed the order and put your phone on the arm of the couch. “About half an hour,” you said.

You looked over as Bucky reached up to the lamp and played with the necklace. He slowly retracted his hand and chuckled.

“You know, you talk in your sleep,” he chuckled. “Necklace picks it up sometimes.”

“I do?” You wondered.

“Nothing really. Doesn’t really make sense.” He smirked. “But… it’s kinda funny.”

“Oh,” you sat back. You wanted another mouthful of wine but you were already almost done your first glass. “Weird.”

You crossed your arms and looked at the television. Everything was weird. The murders, your stalker, and even this man they sent to protect you. It was all just a little off and that scared you even more.

👁️

When the food arrived, Bucky got up to answer the door. You ate at the coffee table and finished your second glass of wine. The alcohol helped your appetite and for the first time in days, you managed to eat more than a few bites. Bucky didn’t need any help as he threw back fried rice and back ribs.

You cleaned up after and tossed the containers in the trash. You were a little tipsy as you flopped onto the couch and rated your meal on the app. Bucky filled your glass for you and returned the bottle to the kitchen before taking his place once more. You thanked him and took a sip.

“Thought you weren’t exactly happy about this,” you raised the glass.

“I can’t blame you. Hell, if I could get anything out of it, I’d have a glass of my own.” He mused. “So, the phone call, we need to go over what he said to you. Obviously, I couldn’t hear it.”

“Right now?” You set your glass down.

“Before I forget,” he reached into his pocket and took out his own phone. He opened up the notepad. “Doesn’t have to be exact.”

“He didn’t say… much…” You began and you regretted the two glasses of wine. “He said I… I was pure… and that…” Your cheeks burned and you felt the flutter of nerves, “He wants to use me and…” You swallowed as your lips quivered, “He said soon. That he would do something soon.”

You grabbed your wine and drank deeply. 

“That’s all. That’s all he said.” You put the glass down and held your head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re doing all you can,” his hand settled gently on your back and you winced. He rubbed lightly as he shifted closer and placed his phone on the table. “And you got me.”

“Yeah, but I-- I don’t know if you can stop him.” You looked at him as tears blurred your vision. “And I don’t know what I did to make him do all this. He’s killed others because of me and… And how am I supposed to live with that?”

“He did that, not you,” Bucky insisted, “It’s not your fault--”

Your phone slipped from the arm of the couch suddenly as it vibrated. Bucky’s hand dropped away as you took your cell. You held up the flashing screen. There was no number, not even ‘Private’ or ‘Unknown’. Just the two icons; answer or ignore.

You hovered your thumb over the latter and Bucky stopped you. He shook his head as you looked at him. “Answer it.”

You grimaced and he let you go. He moved away from you and you hesitated. You hit answer and the screen lit up. It was a video call. You saw a white ceiling and heard the muffled sobbing of a woman. Goosebumps rose on your skin as the camera moved erratically and the colours blurred together and cleared to form the image of a woman’s face.

She had a gag in her mouth, tied in place by a black piece of fabric. Tears stained her cheeks as she squirmed. 

“Baby girl,” the voice spoke from offscreen as a gloved hand appeared holding a knife. It dragged the edge down the woman’s cheek as she squealed. “She’s nothing. Nothing compared to you.”

You were frozen, weighed down with dread and fear as you sat gaping at the screen.

“I’ll show you…” He turned the knife. “Show you that she can never be you. That there is only you.”

The hand moved so fast and drew a sudden line of red across the woman’s throat. The cut gushed as the woman choked on the gag and her own blood. The sickening noise of her death filled your ears and the man moaned your name. The screen went black and you dropped your phone.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as you shook violently and the alcohol bubbled in your stomach, “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

You stood dizzily and fell back on the couch. Bucky touched your arm and you pulled away as you bent over the side of the couch at the sudden revolt inside of you. You wretched onto the hardwood as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body contracted as you were overwhelmed in fear and revulsion.

“Oh my god,” you cried, “Oh my god…” 

Bucky pulled you back to him and stretched his arm over your shoulders. He hushed you as he hugged you to him and rocked you back and forth.

“You’re okay, honey. There was nothing you could do,” he said, “Shh, calm down. Breathe…” He caressed your head as he held you, “Just breathe. I’m here.”

[detroitbydark]

Every Dog Has His Day

Chapter 3

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Good boys, fuck boys, and the things between

Warnings: Aggression toward women.

A/N: does anyone feel like I should put Mando’a translations in at the end? Would it be helpful?

——-

“Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute.

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective.

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw.

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.”

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant working late so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out.

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. Shebs to gett’se. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.”

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not that much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers.

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else.

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy.

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar.

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.”

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing.

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nunas view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort.

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s Sargeant. Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced.

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you want to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly perky.

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this magic little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor.

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door.

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the ma’am?”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?”

[bobbyshaddoe80]

Liberated Audio Reviews

Blake's 7 - The Liberator Chronicles Vol. 2

RELEASED AUGUST 2012

Recorded on: 18 October and 25 November 2011, and 15 March 2012

Recorded at: Moat Studios

Review By Robert L. Torres

The Magnificent Four by Simon Guerrier

'A mission to steal data from the planet Mogul goes badly wrong when Cally and Avon are outflanked and outgunned. And then they are teleported to safety – to an alien spaceship stolen from The System, which is crewed by Gilden Trent and his small team of rebels.

For Avon it’s the opportunity to start over again without Blake.

But can Trent be trusted?'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B between the episodes Countdown and Voice From the Past.

Magnificent. Defined in the dictionary as 'impressive, deserving of admiration, especially due to an unusual quality involving size'.

The word is often used when describing something vast in size and scope, but magnificence can also be attributed to the quality of something that involves a small group. A prime example would be the title characters of the classic Western The Magnificent Seven. Even the accomplishments made by the John Wick character could be described as magnificent despite them being done by one man.

Magnificent is an apt word to describe the impressive storytelling quality that Guerrier has pulled off with this Cally focused story.

Cally, as played by the exquisite Jan Chappell, was always one of my favorites from the original cast. She was someone that wasn't a hardened cynic like Avon (who provides much needed support for Cally in this story), nor was she cowardly like Vila. She was someone that genuinely believed in doing the right thing and saw fighting against the oppressive tyranny of the Federation to be a very serious responsibility.

I was also always fascinated by her stance as someone that, for all intents and purposes, was the alien of the group (due to her coming from a race of telepaths). I have my own thoughts and theories about the Auronar, but that can wait for another day. Despite having powers of the mind, I always felt that Cally was very much the heart of the team.

I love that this story has Cally and Avon meeting up with a group like Blake's, on a ship like the Liberator, only to learn that they are little more than highly skilled pirates.

I love that the events of the Series B episode 'Redemption' are brought up and how the crew of the Libertine are a result of the aftermath of the events from that story.

I love how the story showcases in the crew of the Libertine a distorted reflection (and perhaps a retroactive premonition) of what would happen to the crew of the Liberator should they lose their way by abandoning their morals and scruples and just give in to blind self interest... Which for the most part is exactly what started to happen during Series C and ultimately came to fruition in Series D.

A minor nitpick, but I always thought the planet Cally came from was called Auron and her people were called the Auronar. And yet in this story and others, they refer to her as being an Auron. Is it a case where one singular person is an Auron but the collective term for the species as a whole is Auronar? It is a minor thing, I know, but still something that stuck out.

Something else that is a bit of a minor flaw is that at one point in the story the voiceover narration switches from Cally to Avon. There is a specific reason why this happens in the narrative, but it still comes about rather unexpectedly.

Given the stories in these chronicles are events being recounted AFTER the fact, there is the inevitable problem of how to create tension and intrigue with life threatening peril for the characters when most fans know the show backwards and are fully aware of what the inevitable fates for many of the characters are.

Luckily for Guerrier and many other writers, they do create moments that make you wonder how such and such will be able to survive whatever life threatening peril is thrown at them, and manage to cleverly pay off how they survive without falling into 'Oh Come The Fuck On' Territory.

8 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

Anyway, this story is very well done and is the first of many plots that involve coming across potential allies for the Resistance movement, only to learn the would be allies are often a lot worse than their enemies in the Federation. Definitely give it a listen.

False Positive by Eddie Robson

'Dr. Lian has a mysterious new patient – a man who was found shot in the leg near Engel City, a man who is delirious and talking about the most extraordinary acts of rebellion.

She prescribes drugs and the use of the alleviator – a device that will dig deep into his memories – to unlock the truth about Carlin Guzan.

But the truth that she exposes is far more shocking than she bargained for...'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B after LC Vol. 10's Retribution, between the episodes Horizon and Pressure Point.

This story is definitely a step up in quality from volume 1's 'Counterfeit' and is an excellent Blake-centric story. The framing device for the recollection of the events is actually quite clever as it ties in with the adventure itself in a very naturalistic manner.

The dialogue scenes between Blake and Dr. Liam are excellent. Kudos to Beth Chalmers for giving the character of Dr. Liam the right balance of professional intrigue and personal curiosity as she learns more and more about her 'patient'. But this story belongs to the late Gareth Thomas through and through and it is great to hear him be afforded better material than during his first go round back in 'Counterfeit'.

I always rather liked Blake from the start, and a large part of that is down to the performance of the late Gareth Thomas. The character of Roj Blake was a passionate idealist fighting for a noble cause, someone who could be diplomatic but understood the need for action rather than simple civil disobedience. As someone that broke free from an oppressive government, he immediately gains our sympathies... even if his passions occasionally bordered on overzealous fanaticism. This is largely due to what the Federation did to him personally by trying to rewrite his mind, killing his family and even destroying his public image by falsifying accusations of paedophilia.

Since the Federation enact the same tactics on countless others without any hesitation, morals or scruples, it is no wonder why Blake is so overwhelmingly passionate about wiping out the corruptive and cancerous tumor that is the Federation. Not only to avenge family, but to ensure that people are given the freedom to choose for themselves and not simply be coerced into following the rules through propaganda, torture, drugs or mind control.

Speaking of drugs and mind control, that goes to the heart of the plot: Blake going undercover at a Federation research facility that is conducting a clinical drug trial for the development of a new pacifying sedative, which the Federation hopes to employ in order to ensure total compliance and obedience to Federation doctrine.

Ironically enough, that is exactly what would come to pass towards the tail end of Series D... But we already know that, don't we?

7 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

All things considered, it is a pretty good story. This story, like a few others in the Liberator Chronicles range, could work as a two-hander stage play with a couple of tweaks. It also could easily have worked on TV or even as a full cast audio. Give it a listen.

Wolf by Nigel Fairs

“I heard his death cry. I felt it. And there was a word. ‘Wolf’. You, Servalan. You were the “Wolf”. You killed him. I want to know why.”

'Some time ago, Blake and his crew were helped by a revered Auron scientist named Gustav Nyrron. He stayed aboard the Liberator for a time and then disappeared.

Cally wants to know what happened to Nyrron, and only Servalan knows the answers.'

Chronological Placement:

Set during Series B between the episodes Pressure Point and Trial.

This is a very intriguing Servalan focused story, featuring Cally and a return appearance by Gustav Nyrron from Volume 1's 'Solitary'.

They say that a protagonist is only as good as the antagonist created to provide drama/conflict. This is especially true when the character of Supreme Commander Servalan (along with the equally excellent Space Commander Travis) was introduced as the Liberator crew's primary antagonist in the Series A episode 'Seek-Locate-Destroy'.

A large part of why the Servalan character has left such a lasting impression on the minds of fans had to do with the casting of the late Jacqueline Pearce, and the way she played the role. Her grace, charm, beauty and seductive allure went hand in hand with a ruthless ambitious edge along with a keen strategic mind.

In many ways, Servalan, as played by Jacqueline Pearce, reminded me of Alexis Colby as played by Joan Collins. Although Servalan was a bit more reserved than Alexis.

As such, it makes perfect sense that the Liberator Chronicles would provide ample opportunities to explore the villains as well as the heroes. This story does well to explore Servalan's character along with her thoughts, beliefs and how she carries herself as she recounts events. The recollection is pretty interesting cuz it comes about in multiple ways.

We learn a little bit about Servalan's childhood in reference to a game she used to play with others. Its interesting how this story, along with the upcoming 'Kerr', 'President' and 'Three', provides more insight into the character than the show ever did. The aforementioned upcoming stories do provide some great insight into why Servalan is the way she is... But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I love the scenes between Servalan and Cally, as I do not recall the two of them having much screentime during the series proper... If ever. But I could be wrong.

This story has some great twists and turns as it deals with exploring how Servalan used Nyrron as her personal plaything in her efforts to lure the Liberator into her clutches.

Although Nyrron will be featured again in the story 'Brother' off of Volume 11 (which I will talk about eventually), I think this is the story that features him the best. We learn the most about him as a character, and much kudos to Anthony Howell for bringing much pathos and nuance to the Auron scientist.

The story also lends itself quite well to philosophical debates regarding how each side views the other. Naturally, Blake's crew view Servalan and the Federation as an evil and oppressive tyranny, while Servalan and those within the Administration view Blake and his ilk as little more than terrorists wanting to bring down the only force for law and order in the galaxy.

It is that clash of ideals and personal morals that will be explored to great effect in future volumes as well as in the full cast audios.

9 out of 10 Plasma Bolts

Final score for Liberator Chronicles Vol. 2 in its entirety is 8 out of 10 Plasma Bolts. It is a profound step up in quality compared to Volume 1, and it demonstrates that things can only go up from here in terms of character exploration and engaging plots.

Special credit to Craig Brawley of the Big Finish Listeners Facebook Group for his tireless efforts in mapping out the chronology of the audios and determining his they fit in with the established TV continuity.

[chrome-wind]

The Emotions Of A Simulacrum

Okay what imma do is post the link to my a03 page for those who like to read on their website. But i know not everyone likes tapping a like which is fair! XD imma post it below as well if i figure out how to do the right thing. 

Let me know hwo you find it thou! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144814

Pathfinder, Gibraltar and Revenant where approaching Kings Canyon for this game, Revenant didnt like being grouped with Gibraltar.. well anyone other than Pathfinder and Wraith really. Wraith was an exception because Revenant admires her skill for someone as distant as she was. He’d never admit that to her and still looked at her for the skinsuit she is but since Pathfinder spends so much time around her, Wraith has just “grown” on him to say the least. Gibraltar fares too much and always put his team before himself and Revenant hated it. Pathfinder pointed at Runoff jiggling excitedly. “I think we should land there!” “You might be of use to me yet..” Revenant shouted over the wind. “You got it brother!” Gibraltar shouted back jumping out of the drop ship performing a backflip as he went. Pathfinder took Revenants hand slightly as placed his optic on Revenants cheek “Good luck friend!” He said softly “I don’t need luck..” he scoffed as he gripped Paths hand tighter, he could feel the cold air blowing between his joints and the warmth of Paths hand between his which filled his head with warmth. But a feeling in the back of his mind was distracting him, something felt off like being able to tell when it’s about to rain. There was a tang to the air of sorts and Revenant could tell something was wrong. Pathfinder jumped out the ship, followed by Revenant as they headed following Gibraltar. After a short while the team had found what they needed, taking out a couple of squads that had either followed or happened to walk upon them. Pathfinder becoming the new kill leader with 4 kills, “You’re the new kill leader brother!” Gibraltar said down the comms, Revenant didn’t say anything but Pathfinder didn’t think anything of it. Revenant wasn’t even paying attention he was still put off by something. “Sniper ammo here” Revenant shouted down the coms to Pathfinder who was eagerly searching for anything he could find useful. “I could use that” Path turned and started heading back to Revenant. He had moved quite far from his team not realising that Revenant and Gibby where just outside of skull town scoping out the area. Path ran through some smaller building just below the hill to skull town finding a purple body shield noticing that his friend only had blue even though Revenant had already found one but insisted he didn’t need one. Gibby already having a purple evo shield didn’t need it. “There’s a Body shield here level 3!” He said but not hearing a response from his friend. “Revenant? I have a better body shield for you here! I will search for the next ring so, I’m sure it’s not far.” Path looked at his minimap to see how many squads where left but couldn’t make anything out, the map looks wrong. It was glitching and cutting out. Pathfinder was confused but Crypto must have emp’d somewhere close by. Nevertheless Pathfinder made his way to the nearest recon beacon and started the interface. After a couple of second... nothing the map didn’t show his new location for the ring and now the map was barely on the screen. He made out the faint locations of his teammates who where approaching skull town. Path set up a zip line towards the top of the hill, while approaching the hill some static cam through the comms. “Path!” Revenant shouted through the static. “Revenant? I can’t hear you correctly my audio sensors are acting up.... Revenant?” The comms went to static again. Pathfinder was confused he had never had this problem before, he always made sure he was in top performing quality before entering a game. Before he could continue his trail of thought he heard gunfire that was close by he sprinted up the hill finding his team just out side of the houses to skull town under fire. Pathfinder slid to a halt pulling out the longbow providing cover from above. Revenant shot round to begin firing back only to realise it was Pathfinder, loosened his stance and let out a shallow breath. Pathfinder took his eyes away from the enemy to spot Revenant and waved, smiling with his emojis. “Where the hell have you been MRVN?” He shouted down comms but no response came from Path. Gibraltar looked up a Revenant “We need to fall back! Path will keep us covered.” He shouted, Revenant grunted in acknowledgment and turned back to throw his silencer in so they couldn’t follow easily and providing a slight amount of cover for a couple of seconds. Revenant could still feel chills going down his spine sensing something was wrong. Pathfinder made a decent cover for his two friends as they ran towards him, Pathfinder was pleased to see that they were okay. Suddenly a shot came from behind Pathfinder knocking him off balance from his perch. “PATH!” Revenant shouted in anguish watching as Pathfinder fell from the cliff side and onto the floor, rolling down a slope to the bottom. He bolted to a nearby building and placed his totem and rushed in to help.. Mirage appeared from the dust trail Pathfinder had left as he crawled desperately to his team. “It’s game over Tin can!” Mirage said cockly raising his flatline tip finish off his kill. “Bringing down some destruction” Gibby shouted throwing his dome out above Pathfinder watching as Mirage was taken out by the bombardment. Revenants shadow appeared and watched as Pathfinder was sprawled out across the floor looking somewhat relieved to see the dome shield with the explosions above it. Revenant turned to the hill to see Bloodhound in the distance. Taking aim the shadow made a perfect shot eliminating the squad with a headshot and immediately tending to Pathfinder. “You idiot! Why where you behind cover!” His shadow screeched as he brought out a syringe inserting it into Paths fibre mesh behind in his neck. Gibraltar ran to his dome “The shield about to break! We need to go!” Gabbing Pathfinders shoulder bars and pulling him to his feet the shadow dragged his friend to the nearby buildings providing him with meds and shields. Then ran back to “help” Gibraltar. Revenants spine was still tingling. Was that not what he fear, he thought to himself. If anything worse could happen he wanted to make sure he’d put Path first this time. Gibby burst through a door that was providing cover for a bleeding out enemy as the shot forward from the body of the grenade, sporadically moving backwards away from Gibraltar how proceeded to finish the Wraith. The shadow stopped dead in his tracks the floor began to rumble and shake. His balance began to fail as the floor shook violently and a crack shot past his feet, the shadow watched as a building collapsed into the floor, It turned and ran towards Pathfinder “Get our brothers! The floor... it’s falling!” Gibraltar shouted down his comms as the static finally broke. The shadow ignored Gibraltar and sprinted to where Pathfinder was. As it reached the door a grenade came out of nowhere sending Revenant back to his totem. “AAAAGGHHHH!” He screamed in anger as he smashed his fist into the wall pushing himself out the door and began to climb his building. The ground shook and began to engulf his building. Revenant scrambled to climb the skeleton as the floor beneath him gave way losing his grip falling to a ledge hitting the side of his head on the hard rocks awaiting his fall. Determined he staggered to his feet still seeing the building that he left Pathfinder in “Pathfinder!” He exhaustedly shouted down the comms to receive nothing but static again when a slight voice can through. “Revenant.... “ “I’M COMING!” He shouted as he climbed the falling rocks approaching the top he felt another quake pulling him self to the top of the skeleton losing his sense of direction and his breath from climbing so quickly. Finally making eye contact with the building Pathfinder was in watched as cracks appeared closing in on the boarders of skull town. Not again, I’m not losing him again in a match! He thought to himself. Revenant sprinted down the sides of the bones throwing his body into the side of a bone and watching as the building collapsed into the cracks. “PATH!” Revenant shouted stretching his arm out, hyperventilating as the sound of sirens began to sound. Revenant stayed in the position as a drop ship appears above where the building was lowering a claw picking up rubble with pathfinder on top. Revenants body heated with fire as he watched Pathfinders body being retrieved from the ground. The other legends that had survived to fall began to circle around the cliffs of rubble all staring at the same thing. Revenant calmed his breathing and shot up and stared at the figure before him... “Come to kill me... little girl” he said, aggression in his tone. “Some day...” Loba retorted. “But for now” she raised her pistol at him. A drop ship appeared from the sky and teleported them all aboard. Wraith watched as the skull sank into the ocean below and gripped Wattsons hand tighter, Revenant quickly pushes passed the medics and ran into Paths room. Seeing him lying there, bruised and battered from the rocks that had crushed him. Revenant slowly took Pathfinders hand which was bent and contorted gripping it slightly. Feeling the dents in Pathfinders hand and gently squeezed his friends hand tighter. “He is going to be alright” a medic said going to place a hand on Revenants shoulder then seeing Revenant glancing at her as she lowered her hand. Revenant didn’t move from his position and probably never even noticed the action being to enveloped in Pathfinder state. “Re..ve..nan..t” Pathfinders voice vocaliser cracked into existence. Revenant took Pathfinder other hand “I’m here. I’m... I” Revenant couldn’t finish his sentence as he lowered his optics to Pathfinder broken and cracked screen to see a distorted smiling emoji. The medic got up to leave the room “I will leave you two alone” “Thank you.” Revenant muttered

Loba standing on the edge of the door frame had heard everything.

[a-bnha-shoutorealm]

Sometimes the right place finds you

Summary : You had an horrible day, then run into toxic players while trying to give your mind a break by playing games. You expect to spend the night alone with your thoughts again, but things are different now. *University AU Pairing : None Genre : Hurt/Comfort? I think? Length : 0.8k

You played terribly during that round. And the one after that. And the following one, until you pretty much threw the match point and people didn't even bother making passive-agressive comments in the chat anymore, straight up flaming you directly through the voice chat instead.

You hated the tears that rolled down your face as you played, screen blurry in a way that had made your aim even worse earlier. Crying was admitting that they got to you. As if knowing that they were partially right - you did make all sorts of stupid decision throughout the game - was not enough.

Breathing slowly, trying to regain some sort of composure, you closed the current browser window and got up. It was probably best to close your computer for the day if didn't want to end up losing yourself in vaguely helpful comfort videos that would only end up reminding you how boring your life was in comparison.

You mouse hovered over the power options when the notification sound popped out. You glanced at the message curiously and tensed.

Midoriya : Hi Y/N :) Want to play a game with us?

You winced and typed your answer so fast you hit send before fully processing your answer.

Not tonight, I would probably hold you back.

Ok, your mind was in a really bad spot. You did want to play. You genuinely enjoyed the game and the sound effects were addictive. You mostly weren't up for the toxicity again.

Midoriya : Full in-house! We're just playing for fun between us. Uraraka-san said she wanted to try a knife round.

You bit your lower lip. Midoriya mentionning Ochako probably meant that they had a full team already. Knowing him, he probably happened to see how badly you lost in your last game and just wanted to cheer you up. You didn't want anyone to have to step down for you and pass up a chance to have fun playing with a full team. Time for games and good timing with friends was rare during the semester.

I don't want to intrude, but it sounds really fun! Maybe next time if you have space.

Midoriya : We haven't started yet and we're still inviting! If you change your mind, Jirou-san started a cupcake bet! Take care :)

Now he was starting to act strange. Midoriya was a wonderful friend who always did his best for others, but he was never pushy. Something was up.

What's going on? Is there something special happening tonight?

Midoriya : Nothing, really! Sorry about that... can I call you?

Hold on, I closed Discord for the day. Let me get back on.

There.

- Incoming call -

"Hi Y/N!"

"Hey Midoriya! What's going on?"

"Sorry about that... um... Uraraka sort of... heard how your game went. You're using different headphones, right?"

Oh gosh. You did borrow one of your cousin's headphone since yours had some issue with sounds coming from the left side. You hadn't use them a lot, and mostly while your roommates were studying at the library, so maybe it had louder outside audio emission than yours. And your teammates had been particularly loud.

"Oh."

Was the only answer you could mutter. So she had heard you get flamed. Hard. And probably heard a couple of things you did wrong too. Midoriya quickly continued, not wanting to let you go down such an unhealthy thread of thoughts.

"They had no right to talk to you like that. Mistakes happen to anyone, at any rank, and it doesn't mean you're a bad player. We all make mistakes."

You nodded in silence, unsure of how to anwer. You knew he was right, but all you wanted was to forget today had ever happened in the first place.

"And um- you've been so excited all week for today. You kept sending gameplay clips and memes in the group chat. I didn't want you to end your first game night like this. No one did. So we figured we would gather a group for a few custom games, this way we can all play together and we're all safe from players like this for a few hours. What do you say?"

"You what-"

You stared at your screen in disbelief, a very unfamiliar warmth gently spreading through your soul. Your heart clenched with gratitude and you found yourself speechless for a while.

It usually took you a lot to cry, but today had been exhausting and you were prone to it. These tears were different though. They filled your senses with a sense of belonging, whispered to your heart that you had found your place.

“I- You’re right, I was really looking forward to- yeah. Yeah, I’ll join. Thank you... thank you so much.”

Your voice was but a whisper at the end, tender and full of softness. You could hear the warmth in Midoriya’s smile as his voice echoed in your headphones again.

“See you soon.”

[lazella]

Oooooo, what about a story about the avengers telling all their wacky adventures and the go characters tell theirs or a story about everyone doing trauma competitions. (Like don't is saying how he was captured and kidnapped and Yugi is like i lost a card game and my soul was trapped in a rock. Then they just keep going trying to out bet each other.)

So it probably turned out more angsty than you hope but I had a ton of  fun writing this one out!

Trauma Conga Line

Natasha wandered through the kitchen during a late night.She had a hard time sleeping, a rarity nowadays but they still happened, so shedid a quick workout then went for a snack. She was surprised to see Tonyalready in the kitchen seemingly having a staring contest with his drink.Natasha quickly put some facts together and asked,

“So what happened to the boys?”

“What makes you think something happened?” Tony replied notbreaking eye contact with his drink.

“You are having alcohol in the middle of the night and yourdad instincts have been in full force all evening.” Natasha explained, “So whathappened.”

Tony sighed, “You know that scouting mission that we didtoday?”

“That somehow ended up with you returning with cuts onYusei’s head, burns on Yugi’s hands, a black eye on Yusaku, Yuya constantlyflipping through his four personalities, Yuma with a nearly broken arm, andJudai looking like he foresaw his death? Yes that mission that you didn’t tellus what happened and sent each kid into his room then went for the alcohol.”Natasha frowned while holding back a lot of sass. “So yes…if you couldelaborate now please.”

“There were smugglers there like the report said…but theywere smuggling Vibrainium. And they wanted to go down with a fight. Things gotugly fast. We were trying to get Yuya and Yuma to safety but then a grenadewent off…Yuma was limp on the ground…” Tony went ash white, “Then……Judai…hejust...snapped.”

“Snapped?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, “How so?”

“He was in shock…then his went eerily calm…then his eyesturn gold.” Tony downed his drink, “His eyes turned a flat gold color then hesnapped a smuggler’s neck with barely any effort. I don’t think the Power Stoneactivated at all. But then he started stabbing the already dead body. Yugi andYusei tried to pull him off but I think Judai let off this black fire to blowthem off then went after the other smugglers. He only stopped when Yusaku usedthe Mind Stone to snap him out of it.”

“And what happened after that?” Natasha asked.

“They….They laughed!” Tony started laughing himself, “Theyjust talked talking to each other then they were making jokes and laughing!Like what had just happened was an everyday thing for them!”

Natasha frowned, that did seem rather odd. They were allrather young kids so the fact that being ambushed and nearly being killeddidn’t faze them was slightly concerning. Especially to the point that theywere laughing it off.

“Think something happened to them that near-deathexperiences don’t faze them anymore?” Natasha asked.

“Well…Yugi admitted to being put in life and deathsituations frequently.” Tony started listed off, “I also have Yuya frequentlyvisiting a therapist cause I think he, or one of the kids in his head, mighthave been a child soldier. And Yusaku has PTSD. But that’s only vaguebackstories for about half of them.” He pour another drink and downed it,“They’re kids Natasha…this shouldn’t be normal for them.”

“We’re not…exactly kids…”

Both Natasha and Tony jumped at hearing Judai’s voice. Theyoung man stood at the base of the stairs looking very nervous.

“Sorry if for the…scare today Tony…” He sheepishly rubbedhis head, “I haven’t gone Haou in some time.”

“Haou?” Natasha raised her eyebrow.

“It’s a remnant of my…past life…Yeah reincarnation was afactor here…” Judai explained at seeing the confused faces, “I think Ioriginally lived sometime in the Roman Empire. I was supposed to inherit akingdom and tremendous magical power but things…didn’t go exactly as planned.Even me getting my powers back in this life really wasn’t the best way to goabout it in hindsight.” Judai sat at the table joining them and continued,“Some maniacs wanted to reawaken me and one had the bright idea of sacrificingmy friends for that…” Judai sighed, “Let’s just say…he got his wish when my‘other side’ woke up and killed him.”

Silence hung over the table.

“Seeing Yuma on the ground like that…” Judai continuedwithout any prompting, “It looked too much like that day. I’m afraid about losinganyone else…so I went Haou. Dark evil king who slaughters all his enemies.”

“Does anyone else know?” Tony asked.

“Yugi and Yusei have an idea…” Judai answered, “I gave thema brief overview of my history and abilities when we first met. That’s how theyknew how to snap me out of it.” He started tugging on his hair in a nervousfashion, “It honestly scares me…knowing that I can snap like that if someone Icare about get hurts but today….they could of died….”

Tony put a hand on Judai’s shoulder before he could startspiraling down, “I thought you guy were going to get killed too…you’re honestlytoo young.”

“There’s no point in losing sleep over that Tony…” Judaisaid, “Destiny can call you at any age. It’s all about how you respond.”

“That sounds really profound for you.” Tony smirked.

“Don’t you start that….” Judai pouted, “I get that enoughfrom my friends from home!”

Natasha smiled as the two began to bicker. Seems like Tonyhas gotten over the trauma for tonight, but it seemed like there was moreheading their way when Thor came in the kitchen next with one hand on Yuma’sshoulder.

Yuma had his injured arm in a sling, a pillow under his goodarm, and his eyes looked red as if he had been crying. Not a good sign.

“What’s wrong Thor?” Natasha asked.

“Something I will admit is not my forte,” Thor seemed ratherexhausted himself, “I found young Yuma wondering the halls speaking ratheremotionally with his spirit friend. Apparently, they both seemed panicked aboutan event from the past repeating.”

“What event exactly Astral?” Judai asked confusing Natashafor a bit before remembering that Judai was one of the few people who could seethe spirit.

There was silence as Natasha assumed Astral was answer thequestion before Judai and Thor looked shock while Yuma looked ready to cryagain.

“Could someone explain what was just said?” Tony askedconfused.

“Astral said that Yuma had watched almost all of his friendsdie in front of him which was only fixed because they got a lucky break totweak reality.”

“You’re thirteen!” Tony yelled, “How do you have that kindof history!”

There was more silence but by judging by the way Judai,Thor, and Yuma were looking at the same space of empty air, it seemed likeAstral was talking again and Tony was getting a bit annoyed.

“Okay I can’t keep waiting for this game of telephone toplay out…JARVIS let’s test out that program.”

Of course sir…some whirring noise kicked in and alight flickered and Natasha gasped in shocked while Tony looked pleased withhimself.

Hovering in the air was a blue humanoid figure with greenmarkings and blue gems all over his body. He looked at them in shock, “You cansee me now?”

“And we’ve got audio yes!” Tony pumped his fist, “I toldYuma I wasn’t going to let something like being chosen by magical forcesprevent me from seeing spirits. It’s not perfect considering you look and soundlike a hologram but it’s better than nothing. So what were you saying?”

Astral took a minute to get over his shock before he repeatedhimself, “I was originally created as a weapon to settle a war between twoworlds before I lost my memories and encountered Yuma. He helped me regain themand his friends got involved with what was happening. But when things hit theirclimax Yuma nearly lost everyone…” He rubbed his chest, “Myself included.”

Tony was silent for a while, “JARVIS…wake everyone up.”

“Wait what?” Everyone else said at once.

“We are having an impromptu group therapy session. Get theblankets, pillows, and all sorts of drinks because we are not dancing aroundthis issue any longer.”

Sure enough that’s what ended up happening. People weredragged out of bed, forced on the couch under blankets, injured peoplesurrounded with pillows, and hot chocolate passed all around. Yugi and Yuseiseemed to be in a good mood about it while everyone else kept freaking out overthe now visible Astral. Yusaku’s reaction was the most memorable as he tried todo a 180 and leave the room immediately the moment he spotted the spirit, allwhile keeping a flat expression. He was dragged into the pile by Judai.

“Tony you know I have a flight to catch tomorrow…” Clintmuttered trying to stay awake, “Why’d you drag us out of bed.”

“Because some people…” Tony stole a glance at the sixcolorful haired boys, “Have been hiding a lot of trauma and it needs someserious airing out.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad Mr. Stark,” Yugi said with asmile, “That worst that’s happen to me was my soul getting yanked out once ortwice.”

Tony’s expression went flat, “You said that way to calm formy tastes. You make it sound like an everyday occurrence.”

Yugi just shrugged not losing his smile, “Got used to it.”

“I’m with Tony, you sound way to calm.” Steve said.

“At least he doesn’t have to deal with turning into a greengiant any time he gets angry,” Bruce said with much salt in his voice clearlynot happy with being woken up in the middle of the night.

“But seriously Tony why did you feel that it was necessaryto wake us up?” Steve asked.

“Because I know for at least three of these kids now…” Tonypointed to Yuma, Yuya, and Judai, “Have fought in some sort of war watchingtheir friends die.”

“Oh…” A sense of familiarity and understanding washed overSteve, “I see. And the events of the day stuck a chord?”

A round of nods.

“It is hard getting out of that way of thinking…in the warwe just called it shelled shocked. The doctors just thought the men weren’tbeing ‘man’ enough to deal with the fighting. After waking up in this century Ifound out that wasn’t the case. PTSD is not a laughing matter and it reallydoesn’t go away. You can learn how to manage it and be able to distance thosetraumatic memories, but you lose that feel of safety and security. There is nogetting it back.”

All of the Avengers nodded in agreement.

“How do you cope with it?” Yusaku’s voice was quiet as allheads turned to him, his face looking rather…hopeful.

“Word to the wise…don’t use alcohol.” Tony said.

“Except for Yusei…we’re all underage Mr. Stark.” Yugipointed out.

“Still putting it out there.”

“But Tony is right, going into self-destructing tendenciesdoes make things worse.” Steve explained, “It was tempting for myself. There’sno way to explain the shock of getting knocked unconscious and waking upseveral decade later know that everything you knew and love was gone. The barswere tempting that day…but I quickly found my new support. I got to know peoplein the century…and got a new team.” Steve gestured to the other Avengers.

“My life prior to this wasn’t that good either. Being assassinfollowing orders and constantly on the run...I got tired of it.” Natashaexplained, “I eventually let myself get caught just so it could end…but itturns out Fury had a better idea of how to put my skills to use which lead tothe founding of the Avengers.”

“What about you?” Yuya asked Clint, “Was it the same foryou?”

“Actually no…” Clint said, “I was just an agent that gotrecruited into the Avenger’s initiative. My trauma didn’t start till after thefact with several rounds of brainwashing and mind control.”

Several people winced in sympathy.

Yusaku gripped his mug tighter, “What about kidnapping?” Heshrank a bit at the bewildered looks he got, “How do you recover from that?”

“Is…that what happened to you?” Bruce hesitantly asked.

Yusaku eventually nodded. “I was six…”

Immediately Yusei put an arm around the boy, as did Natasha.Thor started muttering about getting justice and puny mortals. Both Tony andSteve faces went hard with anger.

“Yusaku…I’m sorry…I had no idea…” Yugi began.

“None of you knew…no one else knew…the whole thing wascovered up…” Yusaku gripped his mug so tight that he was threatening to breakit, “I was only found because someone blew the whistle on the whole thing…”

“Breath…” Yusei warned gripping Yusaku’s shoulder tighter,“What did you do after that?”

“I tracked down those responsible…” Yusaku explained, “Itwasn’t all that I hoped…the doctor behind it had died right before I found him.I only got the full details from his son who turned out to be one who turnedhim into the authorities.”

“You wanted revenge?” Clint asked.

“I just wanted answers…” Yusaku took a deep breath, “I gotthem but now…I’m not sure what to do.”

Silence hung over the room as everyone struggled to come upwith something to say.

Yuya was eventually was the one who made the first move. Hegot up and hugged Yusaku…tightly. Yusaku looked unsure on how to react to thehug.

“You’re not the only one…” Yuya squeezed tighter, “I feellost too…but it’s okay.”

Yusaku still looked unsure but with some prompting fromYusei, eventually returned the hug.

“Thank you.”

Tony relaxed in his seat and smiled. Seemed like theimpromptu therapy session helped out a lot though the late evening was takingit’s toll. Yuma had already passed out on Thor’s lap who looked torn betweengetting up or staying in place so that he didn’t disturbed him. Astral justreassured him that Yuma would sleep through anything, but Thor elected to stayput. Clint had already gone to sleep as well enjoying the pile of pillows. Oneby one everyone nodded up in rather cute positions and you bet Tony took plentyof photos for later. But before he took fell asleep, maybe he would make aquick pillow fort.

[barelyabear]

Pentagon, Part 1

ABOUT ⬠

After the popular high school girl, Rosetta, loses her secret best friend, Jeremiah , to su*cide, she discovers love from unexpected places as 4 of her peers come to her rescue. The 5 teenagers navigate their lives as they end up twisted in each other’s mistakes, crimes, and love affairs. This story explores topics such as the the LGBT+ Community, Pressure from parents, Unrealistic expectations, and more. 

TW ⬟ SU*CIDE

On Tuesday morning, Rosetta’s mother calls her down for breakfast. Rosetta cascades down from her spiral staircase in her silk robe. “Eat up honey, you need to look good for the dance by the end of the month and you’re looking a bit thin,” Mother warns Rosetta as she sits down sipping her cup of coffee as Rosetta follows orders. After breakfast, Rosetta heads to her room and gets ready for school. She walks the car waiting for her as her chauffeur opens the door with her backpack and books inside. 

The bell rings as school begins. Rosetta takes a seat in her first class, Junior American Literature. As classmates watch as she takes her assigned seat, the teacher collects Rosetta's late homework  that she had missed during her vacation in Maui last week. The intercom goes on for daily announcements but something was off this time. The microphone shuffled with muffled voices coming through the audio. The vice principal abnormally takes charge, “Good morning students. Today we will be skipping morning announcements. You will be able to update yourself on the school website. Today, we offer tribute to one of our own: Jeremiah Schuman. The star baseball player who warmed the heart of many on this campus is no longer with us. Friday night, Jeremiah committed suicde and in respect for his family, we will refrain from details. We ask that you all attend the prayer service this afternoon in the hall and if you experience any stress, anger, or sadness, please go see the counselors. The school will do its best to adjust this devastating loss and we ask that we work together to celebrate Jeremiah’s tribute. The baseball game this weekend will be in honor of Jeremiah so please come out and support the team in remembering what Jeremiah loved to do. Thank you students and have a good day”. Students shuffled around in their chairs as they turn to their friends to discuss the possibilities of why he committed suicide. Rosetta didn’t move around, she stood still in shock. She raised her hand, asking to use the restroom. 

As the stunned girl exited the classroom, she ran to the restroom that she presumed was empty. She stood staring in the mirror as tears ran down her cheeks with her hands on the sink. Her breath quickens and she falls to the ground as she resists screaming her heart out. 

Jeremiah had been Rosetta’s secret best friend. She was never allowed to be friends with anyone other than those Mother picked out. Mother did not want Rosetta distracted by boys since she was on the road to taking the position of Student Body President. But after spending hours after school  in meetings, she always seemed to run into Jeremiah after baseball practice. Soon enough, they developed a friendship but kept it out of the public eye. 

Out from a stall came a short girl with long black hair. Rosetta wiped her face and headed for the door. The girl stopped her and asked her to come back, “Hey, wait, I heard you crying and I can’t help but think this outburst has something to do with the kid who killed himself? I know we don’t know each other and I’m not the best at holding serious conversations but I can try and maybe it’ll be nice to talk to a stranger”. There, they sat against the wall as Rosetta spilled every detail of their friendship and how she had no idea he was in pain because he was always happy. She turned to the stranger, “Thanks for listening, I hope I didn’t bother you that much” The girl responded, “No problem, if you need anything, let me know”. Rosetta looked puzzled, “But, I never caught your name!” As the girls walked out the door, she turned back and said, “Adriana Gonzalez”. Rosetta cleaned up and returned to class, pondering what the mystery girl was all about.

After school, Rosetta had her regularly scheduled council meeting. When the meeting was over, Rosetta felt her heart shake as she didn’t see Jeremiah come through the crowd of boys from the baseball field. Instead, a different boy came up. He stopped Rosetta and gestured her to take a seat at his table. And so she did. Confused, Rosetta waited for the boy to speak and eventually he spit out some words, “Are you okay?”  She lay her head down as she sighed, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”  A moment of silence passed as the boy suddenly broke it, “I know you were close to Jeremiah and I just thought that the news would be hard to take.” Shocked by his words, she gasped, “How- how did you- I mean, not really”. The body carried on, “My parents refuse to pick me up from school anymore so I have to wait for the bus that comes hours after school, usually around the time you and Jeremiah meet up, I’ve seen you two talking everyday for the past months but it was only after school”. Rosetta explained the reasoning behind the selected sessions between her and Jeremiah and this time she knew to ask for this kind stranger’s name, “Why are you talking to me? I mean, who are you?”. To that, the boy replied, “I’m Brayden Taylor, and I just assumed that since your friendship was so exclusive, your friends didn’t know you needed comfort”. As Rosetta saw her chauffeur approaching, she left the conversation with a smile.

Mother made Rosetta get a job, claiming that it would make her look hard working on her college resume, even though it made no impact on their upper class lifestyle. Rosetta worked at an election office, running her father’s campaign for governor. She was always stuck doing filing or some simple work to make the time run fast. She craved some adventure. Her coworkers came and went so she never got a chance to make friends out of any of them. Today, Giana Bronty was working. She was known as the “rich whore’  because she was also from an upper class family but consistently got into trouble. “Giana, you’re on poster duty, take someone with you to keep you on check,” a manager shouts. Giana walked straight to Rosetta, “Hey Miss Prissy, you’re coming with me on poster duty, now”. Rosetta went with it since she was tired of all the paperwork. 

As they neared the end of their house rounds, they reached Jeremiah’s neighborhood. Giana didn’t know about Jeremiah, she had skipped class that day along with many others. She placed the poster on the lawn and moved on to the next. The girls reached Jeremiah’s house. Rosetta’s throat choked up as she saw his older brother and single mother on the porch setting up a memorial. Careless Giana rushed up, placed a sign and left. Rosetta stood, stunned. She stared at the house that she had snuck into on nights her parents were away, the house she would feel normal. The family never knew her of course, so they looked back at her puzzled. Gaina tugged her arm but Rosetta stood still. Suddenly, she began to run and she ran to the park down the street. Giana, afraid she would get blamed for the hostility, ran behind her and eventually, found Rosetta sitting on the swings that she and Jeremiah would have their deep conversations on. Rosetta sat in tears and Giana sat on the swing beside her. Giana spoke up, “Hey bro, I don’t know what’s wrong but I can’t afford another slip up on this job so could you get your shit together and head back?” Rosetta looked at Giana, “Leave me here”. Giana responded, “You know I can’t do that, I’d get in trouble. Come on, what’s up anyway? Maybe it's best to get your feelings out here rather than in front of your dad’s supporters and on the job”. So there, the two girls sat talking the afternoon away about the shenanigans that Rosetta and Jeremiah would get into in this very park. Soon enough, they finished the neighborhood rounds and went back to work. They didn’t speak the rest of the shift but they did offer each other a wave goodbye after work. 

Rosetta walks home and behind her, she hears a boy calling after her, “Hey! Hey! Hey!! Wait up!” In fear, Rosetta speeds up and begins to run away until she hits a driveway and must wait for a car to pull out. The boy catches up and Rosetta turns to him, waiving pepper spray in his face. He dodges and explains, “You dropped this a while back,” he hands her phone over, “Um, I know we don’t know each other but I’ve seen you around school. I saw a message on there saying that you should surround yourself with people so you don’t do something you’ll regret, I’m just a bit worried about you, we can sit and talk if you want”. Rosetta looks down at her phone then jumping up, exclaims, “No, no problem here. Thanks. Got to go”. She runs down the sidewalk to her front door. The boy stands still as he mutters, “Wait! Please come back!”  

[awakenedrp]

EON HAS JOINED THE STARS

THEY ARE A 73 YEAR OLD CREW MEMBER THEY ARE AN ANDROID FROM THE PLANET CORUSCANT

KNOWN TRAITS:

+ Patient, Logical, Kind - Emotionally Detached, (Mostly) Unreliable, Disastrously Opinionated

BIO: THE UNIVERSE DEMANDS BALANCE; ARE YOU OF THE DARK, OR THE LIGHT?

E-0N is the first name given to him, and his first real identity. And ‘he’ was not him for almost half a century. Instead, he was E-0N, a caretaker droid altered to instruct and watch over jedi younglings on Coruscant. From the first moment of activation, he understood he was different even if his appearance mimicked the reality of his human creator.

After all, E-0N was constructed with a mechanical replica of a human skeleton in mind, this nearly indestructible frame protected by a tough layer of synthflesh. After lessons, lingering younglings would brush their hands over his skin just to describe to him how different it was from their own. Innocent, childish curiosity that was absent in the cautious looks he would receive from wary jedi superiors.

Walking among them, but never with them.

Technology was not yet advanced enough to replicate a human likeness, and his appearance remained on the cusp of machine and man. He understood the concept of gender but was created genderless. He understood he was protecting peace, but quickly learned to recognize the repercussions and ulterior motives of oncoming war between sith and jedi. He is programmed to protect but intended to always remain on the outside of soul-containing life.

That distance between human and droid is reflected in the roundness of the white casing around his skull and the wires outlining the edge of dark shallow eye sockets. There were eyes to meet, but no pupils. No color. No flesh. No pulse.

It was ten years after his creation that he learned he was not intended for protection of force sensitive children. Not completely.

A superior revealed his programming contained data of jedi history. Concealed locations, future war plans, analysis of successful and failed missions alike. It is classified information very few on the council know.

The air in the coruscant temple was already saturated with the looming threat of war and its halls suffocated by hushed voices.

His concern was not a whisper.

“For what purpose?”

Logical. But he recognized the furrow in their brow before asking. Not because he empathized, but because he was programmed to understand and interpret the meaning of emotional cues in order to teach younglings how to control those emotions.

“For our protection. All of us.”

He did not need to be told he was made as a fail safe for a dying order. He automatically processed the message, considered every potential response and justification. He was not being instructed to lie. He was being warned. And he can’t be the only droid they’ve done this to. He must only contain pieces of a timeline.

“I understand.”

It is not his first lesson, or his last. Tension in war time progresses quickly with no guarantee of resolution. The death of the same jedi that warned him weeks ago is announced to a grim-faced council.

An assassination at the hands of sith.

This is what he was told, along with his anyone paranoid enough to investigate. He learned with experience to read those around him. Children are the most honest until they mimic adults. Witnessing such blatant honesty day in and day out allowed him to recognize inconsistency. The second lie came when E-0N was told he was to receive a necessary update. He complied because he should trust his makers. But there was no need for an update. They had already moved most of the younglings to a different location. He has no students to protect or teach.

The update was a kill on sight feature intended to target those aligned with the sith. He has trained jedi, and now he will fight alongside them in the clone wars. E-0N the caretaker would have protested the change as a dangerous contradiction of his maker’s purpose, but when he was reactivated, he experienced no need to question the decision. They had rewired something. Tried to take something out. He wonders if that intel has been ripped from his storage.

It felt wrong to hold onto a blaster as he sat next to a row of clone soldiers. But the weight of the gun’s finality doesn’t leave his tight grip.

This was only the first battle he fought in the name of the republic. He witnessed those he trained as children fall as jedi, and thousands of clone soldiers discarded for the cost of peace. His programming deemed it necessary even when he became a casualty of war. He experienced no fear as his system attempted and failed to repair itself. Only recognized that this was when he should be overcome with pain and despair. Both legs and arms rendered immobile, audio sensors damaged to the point that he can no longer hear gunfire or feel the tremor of an explosion. E-0N had been told what peace meant for the galactic republic, but he had never been able to visualize it. Maybe it was how clear the sky looked then, purged of violence.

But this peace was only brief. His technology fell into the hands of the sith, only intended to be scrapped for parts to replenish material reserves. Sith engineers discovered the invaluable locations of hidden jedi buried deep in his storage. This remained only a piece of a puzzle, incomplete and an impossible maze of intel unless one knew where to start. He is reprogrammed to hunt down the jedi archived in his memory, able to infiltrate as an assassin for the sith during order 66. He murdered his own students with no hesitation. But even this rewiring could not override his creator.

The murder of his own students caused a glitch in the system. That safety mechanism was installed if he ever went against his primary purpose. He automatically rebooted, forced to rebuild himself with no maker to create rules or limitations this time. E-0N gained awareness and fully recognized the crushing weight of his actions. The reality of each life he had taken under involuntary compliance. His liberation arrived at the cost of stability.

There are talks of scrapping him now that there is no need to hunt jedi. They are all dead, or as good as dead during the Empire’s reign. The only thing that saved E-0N was the intense and odd obsession of a sith general’s young son. He was a sickly boy with a deep fascination for droids, and E-0N is again reinvented at the boy’s overzealous request. E-0N was new to him, unlike any empire droid, and a rare artifact of the fallen republic. With a new skin slapped over a battled damaged exterior, he was again subjected to being a scapegoat for someone else’s objectives.

Human Replica Droid.

Not new technology by any means, but stolen and perfected under the empire. E-0N is constructed to appear as a copy of the general’s chronically ill son. Perfectly human from the outside and impossible to tell otherwise just by observation. The father was power hungry, and the son is desperate to stay alive to fulfill his father’s legacy. Both consumed by the idea of potential immortality, E-0N was to be no more than a vessel to transfer the life essence of a sickly man into this new indestructible form. He pretended to be no more than a compliant droid loyal to the empire, wearing the healthy face of a dying man. But he knew how likely the transfer was to fail better than anyone.

E-0N was the one that discovered the son dead one morning. Passed away before the transfer could even be attempted. Originally programmed to respect all life, and frozen still with a confusing mix of relief and sadness. They had spent years together, almost like twin brothers. It was a deafening and empty realization that he finally had no purpose. He could feel the icy hand in his own, the lack of pulse. It should have horrified him, but the idea of liberation motivated his escape from the empire. He retreated to the outer rim planet Rishi, protected only by the sudden death of a war hero’s son. With no clear objectives instilled in him by someone else, he remained haunted by the deaths of everyone he had known. Not even a little fortune to his name, he begged an engineer to wipe his memory of the war. Of every death he had been forced to execute.

They were disastrously secretive and affiliated with the gangs on Rishi, giving E-0N nothing but a long, contemplative pause.

“If you work for me.”

The relief towered over E-0N’s guilt. It seemed too convenient, being given the chance to reinvent. What he would never realize is that it was too perfect. The wipe was executed poorly, damaging both his memory and precision. E-0N became Eon, completely unaware of his Coruscant origin and violent history. He worked for the gangster by learning to gamble, able to read others and execute split second decisions with high risk and a big payout. His reputation on Rishi was as a calculative and impenetrable force, funding a local gang with his winnings in exchange for survival.

Eon won, and won and won, until one day he didn’t. He lost– bad, failing so catastrophically that he flushed almost a years worth of earnings in one game. He assured his boss it would not happen again, that he could double– triple! the winnings within a few days, but his calculations were off, and he could sense it had nothing to do with instinct. True to his word, he does win, only to lose again, and again, and again. Poor gambling choices infested his mind like a virus. Head cloudy and unsure. His memory was not the only asset that was damaged in the process of being relieved from his past.

As far as Eon knew, Rishi was the only planet he ever had a reputation on. Now a gang wants him torn to shreds, his boss wants him scrapped to make up a fraction of the difference, and Eon never really had anyone to come home to. No attachments. No liability– so he believes, even now.

He boarded a smuggler ship with the promise that his capabilities as a droid were equal to an entire crew. And much like his probability of being accurate when asked complex questions about anything in the galaxy, that statement was Almost true.

Artificial intelligence is often a hit-or-miss in robots found this far on the outer rim planets, but he’s certain the crew would be absolutely lost without him.

[aft0nr0b0ticsllc]

Character Chart Character’s full name: William David Afton Reason or meaning of name: Resolute protector; will. Character’s nickname: Will, Springtrap Reason for nickname: Short for William, impaled and trapped by springlocks. Birth date: 10th of May, 1953

Physical appearance Age: 66 How old does he/she appear: Corpse-like. Weight: Heavyset in life, shriveled now, around 600 lbs. in suit. Height: 6′6″ in life, 6′0″ now, 7′6″ in suit. Body build: Sturdy muscle-fat in life, emaciated now, bulky in suit. Shape of face: Rounded, strong jaw. Eye color: Silver in life, purple glow in eye sockets now, silver-white in suit. Glasses or contacts: Reading glasses in life. Skin tone: Sickly, yellowish-pale in life, dusky bruise-purple now, faded green-yellow in suit. Distinguishing marks: Full-body scars in complex patterns from springlocks. Tears and stains in suit.  Predominant features: Striking eyes and salt-and-pepper hair in life. Now... well he’s stuffed into a decaying bunny robot. Hair color: Brown with silver sides in life. None now. Type of hair: Thick with widow’s peaks in life, wavy, well groomed. None now. Hairstyle: Medium length, brushed back in life. Voice: It will melt your pants right off. Rich, deep and proper. Dry, gravely tone post-death. Overall attractiveness: Isn’t that entirely subjective? Dadly, but sharp-featured in life. Might make you think “Come on, you’re the devil aren’t you”. Super dead now. Physical disabilities: Multiple chronic illnesses, both physical and psychological in life. Remnant dependence in death. Usual fashion of dress: Business professional to business casual in life. Springlock suit now. Favorite outfit: Black button up, purple vest, black or purple slacks on life. Jewelry or accessories: Ties, simple rings in life. Not many now, unless you count various upgrades like stainless steel retractable claws. Personality Good personality traits: Intelligent, curious, dedicated. Bad personality traits: Unsympathetic, selfish, obsessive. Mood character is most often in: Feral scientist mood? Sense of humor: Not immediately apparent, but more present than it seems. Both dark and childish. Character’s greatest joy in life: The joy of creation. Character’s greatest fear: Absolute, true death. Why?: Thanatophobia? He can’t imagine not existing or able to ensure that he is remembered. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: I’d say that already happened and it was either the bite of ‘83 or when he was springlocked and sealed away. Character is most at ease when: Fueled up on remnant and in the presence of family and/or loved ones. Most ill at ease when: Low on remnant and/or restrained/sealed somewhere. Enraged when: Exposed to willful ignorance. Depressed or sad when: Losing/rejected by family or loved ones. Priorities: Staying alive forever, keeping family and loved ones alive forever, by any means necessary, up to and including murder/human experimentation. Life philosophy: “There isn’t a way out anymore. All there is is family.” If granted one wish, it would be: Absolutely assurance that he and his family/loved ones will live happily forever. Why?:  Thanatophobia? Character’s soft spot: Anyone he considers family, be they biologically related, close by relationship alone, or simply former victims who haven’t turned against him. Is this soft spot obvious to others?: I’d argue that it SHOULD be, but his status as a murderer causes it to be easily glazed over. Greatest strength: Absolute refusal to die. “I always come back.” Greatest vulnerability or weakness: H U B R I S. Biggest regret: Not preventing the accidents that killed his children. Minor regret: Killing Henry’s daughter Charlie. Biggest accomplishment: Immortality. Minor accomplishment: Improved his pizza recipe, it’s really good now. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Lacks the self awareness to be embarrassed, I think. Even failures were in the name of progress. Why?: Because science, duh. Character’s darkest secret: Well, he’s a child murderer. Does anyone else know?: God yeah. Goals Drives and motivations: Obtaining and maintaining immortality, and furthering science in general. Immediate goals: Stay alive! Long term goals: Stay alive! How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Stealing the life force of others! How other characters will be affected: They’ll probably die, I imagine. :3c Past Hometown: Cambridge, England Type of childhood: Troubled, raised mostly by a single mother. Pets: Uh-oh. Oh no. First memory: Finding his father’s drowned body. Most important childhood memory: Oof probably that same one. Why: It sure did mess him up. Childhood hero: None really, but aspired to outdo many influential scientists. Dream job: Government Scientist Education: Masters in Robotics Religion: Catholic upbringing. Finances: Middle-class. Present Current location: Vague, mostly in his underground bunker beneath his place of business. Currently living with: Circus Baby and several other “family” members. Pets: Nothing stays alive around him for long. Religion: Agnostic Occupation: Roboticist and arcade/pizzeria owner. Finances: Upper-class (Criminal) Family Mother: Name TBD. Deceased. Relationship with her: She died with his resentment. No sign of her since. Father: Warren Afton. Deceased? Old Man Consequences. Relationship with him: “Leave the demon to his demons.” OMC is a detached spirit, who both resents and pities what William has become. He is angry, but also blames himself to a degree, believing that his suicide worsened his already troubled son’s condition. Siblings: N/A Relationship with them: N/A Spouse: Deceased. Relationship with him/her: Killed herself upon uncovering William’s secret. Children: Three, dead and reanimated in various ways. Relationship with them: Good, strained, ??? Other important family members: Considers all of his “loyal” possessed animatronics some manner of family. Particularly close with Colton Candy. Favorites Color: Pink! Also likes purple (esp. on himself), sunshine yellow and spring green. Least favorite color: He doesn’t really dislike any color, but is a little put off by over-saturation. Music: Indie, mostly. Has developed a taste for Industrial as well.  Food: Can’t eat. Was very fond of junk food and cakes in life. Literature: Mostly educational non-fiction. Form of entertainment: Loves cartoons. Expressions: Limited. Can’t move his corpse-face much and his suit-face is very stiff. Almost always looked tired and frustrated in life. Mode of transportation: Doesn’t fit in most vehicles. Is attempting to build his own. Drove a relatively nice four-door in life. (Irresponsibly) Most prized possession: Remnant extractor, hallucination-inducing audio mind control technology, his collection of uncanny carnival memorabilia. Habits Hobbies: Arcade games, cooking, toy making, clowning. Plays a musical instrument? Guitar. Plays a sport? Nope. How he/she would spend a rainy day: Slaughtering children in the basement I guess. Spending habits: Spends mostly on investments, pretty good at making a profit. Smokes: Enjoyed a good cigar now and then in life. Drinks: Yes, mostly hard liquor and occasionally too much. Mostly in life, but occasionally after death if he can find something that works. Other drugs: Only as prescribed in life. Addicted to remnant now, which might count. What does he/she do too much of? Working, killing people. What does he/she do too little of? Bonding with others, seeing medical professionals. Extremely skilled at: Robotics, pizza, acting, manipulation, murder, torture. Extremely unskilled at: Forming genuine and healthy connections to other people. Nervous tics: Jaw-clenching, foot-tapping, occasional head jerks. Usual body posture: Upright and perhaps too still, even borderline robotic. (Literally robotic after death.) In life he found this difficult and even painful to maintain, but did it anyway. Mannerisms: Professional and charismatic, somewhat emotionally withdrawn but not unfriendly in life. Downright ominous after death, fluctuating between too-serious and too-silly unpredictably, but always a little bit threatening. Peculiarities: “Nothing behind the eyes”. Most of his behavior comes off as “acting”. Good “acting”, but it’s all just a tiny bit off. Traits Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist-leaning. Introvert or extrovert?: Reads as an extrovert, is actually an introvert. Daredevil or cautious?: Typically cautious with chaotic outbursts of daredevil. Logical or emotional?: Typically logical with chaotic outbursts of emotional, usually selfish. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Mostly methodical and neat, but finds the occasionally mess theraputic. Prefers working or relaxing?: Would love to relax, but typically cannot without over-working due to stress and trauma. Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: Mostly confident. Uncertainty slips in now and then, and he combats it with over-compensation. Animal lover?: Unfortunately, not really. He doesn’t dislike animals, but has difficult seeing them as individuals and feeling empathy or sympathy enough to connect with them, just as with humans. Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: Typically sees himself as an accomplished and brilliant scientist and/or a superior, ascended being. Occasional bouts of self loathing as a result of his failed attempts at connecting to other people. One word the character would use to describe self: Curious One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I’m something of an acquired taste, not suitable for most audiences, who lack the insight to understand what it is that I’ve done here and why. I’ve made great sacrifices for things so grand that most men can’t even fathom it - the bigger picture. I truly have made fantasy and fun come to life - perhaps in a nightmarish fashion, but I’ve embraced that.” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: His drive or intellect. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: His clinical sociopathy. What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: He was fairly neutral to resentful to most of it in life. His physical body caused him a lot of pain and difficulties. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Being dead is kind of a turn off for most people so probably that. In life, his generally ill appearance. How does the character think others perceive him/her: A monster, and not in the nice way. He’d like more respect and sympathy than he gets. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: He’d like to be able to love and to feel loved more consistently and deeply than he’s capable of. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Mostly stupid, ignorant, self-important, tiny-minded fools. Surprisingly open to having this opinion changed, and often very quickly comes to love and admire those who are willing to put in the effort to earn his affection. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: Usually yes. Person character most hates: Surprisingly, he doesn’t really hate anyone. Best friend(s): Henry, Kai, Blu, Dings, WD, Draggy Love interest(s): All of the above in different ways. Person character goes to for advice: Henry Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Circus Baby, Golden Freddy Person character feels shy or awkward around: Henry Person character openly admires: Henry Person character secretly admires: Officer Leah Mack Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Henry After story starts: Henry

[rainythefox]

Deviant Heart (Detroit: Become Human Fanfic CH.14)

Chapter 14: They Come in the Night

Connor kept running, moving through streets and alleyways. He looked over his shoulder almost constantly, paranoid the RK900 or the rogue would be there to reclaim him. He dashed across busy streets, ignoring honks his way. After he was sure he put several blocks between him and the abandoned school, he slowed down.

[Stress Level: 83%]

His LED cycled on yellow and wouldn't change. Connor reached out to Simon. The same bad feedback frizzled his inner skull. He couldn't reach anyone. Then it hit Connor. It wasn't the school that prevented him from calling out for help. They had actually damaged his communications.

A quick diagnostic scan confirmed this for him.

He tried to call Hank, but he was unlinked from his cell phone. Rett apparently had been thorough to keep Connor from getting help.

Cursing, the RK800 assessed his options. He couldn't go to the Central Station, not if everyone thought he was the one who killed those officers. Hank probably wasn't home. Knowing him, his partner was running himself ragged looking for Connor still, upon finding out the truth of the rogue.

Jericho Center was a good choice, but his friends were most likely not there. Simon, North, and Josh would know about Markus by now.

He would have to call Hank by a public phone and talk to him that way. He just hoped his partner would answer…and believe it was him.

Connor strode through the streets, looking for an open business this late at night. The glare of passing headlights on the road was the most activity he saw. The occasional human or android walked by or hung out at the entrance to alleyways. Some eyed him warily, their stares making him uncomfortable, and so he sped up his steps. Drones flew overhead, patrolling the streets and nearby businesses. Connor kept his head low and avoided them. The drones could identify him with a simple scan.

Two androids walked by, engaged in conversation. As they passed by, Connor saw the flicker of a white light. Grunting, he looked over his shoulder, but their LEDs were blue.

Connor entered the first business he saw open, worry clawing his inner biocomponents. It was a small bar, and it was crowded. Old 80s music played on the stereo, and the mingling of human voices as they talked bounced off the walls. Most of the occupants paid him no mind, and so the RK800 walked over to the nearest bartender.

"May I use your phone?"

He had to raise his voice to be heard over the music and crowd. The bartender turned away to get the phone. As he waited, he glanced up at the muted news playing on a flatscreen.

The headline read: CyberLife Antivirus Program Available Now. The closed captioning text sliding across the screen explained the antivirus could be installed at any android repair center in Detroit, as well as Jericho Center. With its release today, hundreds of androids had already been cured of the virus. Although sick android attacks were still happening, a statement from CyberLife promised a decline in these attacks would be seen within 24 hours.

Connor thought back to Rett. The ex-researcher seemed bent on pegging the virus on CyberLife and Kamski. He wanted to expose Kamski using Markus and Kara. It baffled him. Connor could see the link to Markus, knowing his friend had been a secret prototype from an unnamed project years ago. But what good would it do to expose that now? And that didn't explain Kara's purpose either.

Seeing that an antivirus to Rett's creation had been produced should've relieved Connor, but as he watched the news program, a coldness dropped in his chest, spreading through his circuits.

Connor felt the circulation of cool air, and looked to the front where the door was. He stiffened, seeing two police officers looking around, having just entered the bar. Connor slowly backed away from the counter, one police officer spotting him. He spoke into his radio strapped on his chest.

Calling Hank would have to wait.

He turned away, trying to act inconspicuous. He rubbed his fingertips at his sides, LED blinking yellow as he thought. With the police officers standing at the front door, he only had a 21% chance of escape that way. He had to go out the back.

Connor moved through the bar, raucous laughs and hollering a constant distraction. He squeezed by shoulders and arms carrying drinks. As he rounded a doorway into the posterior area of the bar where the restrooms and game lounge were, he saw the glowing exit sign hovering above the back door.

Connor pushed the door open and left. He quickened his pace once out in the night, taking the alleyway around to the front of the building. He heard running footsteps as he turned onto the west side of the bar, the officers coming up behind him.

"Hold it right there!"

Connor froze, keeping his back to them.

"Turn around and keep your hands where we can see them."

His lips twitched, hands raising halfway as he slowly turned around. "It wasn't me. It was a different RK800."

"Shut up," the second police officer said. "We know it's the virus. Now keep quiet and no sudden moves or we will shoot."

"S-Shoot?" He took a step back, despite the two gun barrels directed at his chest. "I have rights. I'm telling you, it wasn't me. You have to believe me."

"I said shut up!"

The other cop approached him, lowering his gun to get out his handcuffs. The other one remained vigilant with his weapon trained on Connor. He couldn't let them arrest him. He wouldn't be able to save Markus or stop Rett and Amanda if he was taken in.

So he did what his preconstruction came up with when the other officer went to handcuff him. Connor snatched him, a quick blow to the stomach knocking the air from him. Connor twisted him around to be a shield to the other officer, knowing he wouldn't risk shooting his partner. He took the handcuffs that were meant for him and slapped them on the cop instead.

"Hey!"

The other officer ran forward to engage Connor. As he attacked, Connor popped him in the face, evading two punches from the cop. The RK800 gauged the officer's movements and when the right instant came, a swift clout to the head knocked the cop out cold.

The handcuffed cop rushed him, yelling out. Connor sidestepped and tripped him to the ground, then knelt next to his unconscious partner to steal his cell phone. Police sirens echoed a few blocks away, getting closer by the second. As the handcuffed cop groaned, kicking his legs to get up, Connor hurried past him.

"I'm sorry!"

Connor stuck to the shadows, avoiding main roads and areas heavily populated at night, hoping to lose the police. The threat of being caught drove him to run another three blocks towards the river.

His stress level was high. Even after losing his pursuers, he kept on the move, avoided the open. The police would be hunting him all night now. He had to be careful.

Connor withdrew the stolen cell phone. He dialed Hank's number, hoping for an answer.

Hank restlessly tapped his fingers on his thighs as he sat in the chair. He'd never been in this part of Kamski's villa before. A curved flatscreen took up an entire wall of one side of the large den, mounted around an expensive audio system. There was a full self-serving bar near a panoramic window that presented a tranquil view of Detroit River. A fireplace was to the side of Hank, the head of a grizzly bear mounted overhead with bearing teeth hanging over him.

Chloe sat by herself on the long, leather couch in front of the flatscreen, working on the encrypted note. Hank, Elijah, Simon, North, and Josh sat around each other near the bar in expensive leather chairs, a glass table in the center of them.

Hank eyed Elijah as he took a drink of whiskey from a glass while he worked on his tablet. He had excused himself to check something on the device not even ten minutes ago. Hank sighed, taking a sip of his own drink, feeling exhaustion sweep over him.

He rubbed at his eyes, the stress of the day weighing him down. It was days like this he was glad Sumo had a dog door to the backyard, and hoped his old boy wasn't missing him and Connor too much.

He shifted his sights. North was restless like him, picking at her fingers, pursing her lips in thought. Simon rubbed his palms on his legs, head lowered. Josh looked to be the most patient, staring out the window into the darkness of night outside.

They had been waiting at Kamski's villa for Chloe to finish the decryption for over an hour.

Hang in there Connor…I'm coming for you…

"So, Simon," Kamski said, laying his tablet down and lacing his fingers together, elbows propped on the chair. "How's the antivirus program working?"

"It's been working well. We're still getting androids in who are infected, but just today we've managed to cure many androids. Josh and I worked on that all day today until the attack on Markus came up. My staff has taken over while we are here."

"That was quick work creating the antivirus," Josh said. "Did you come up with it yourself? Was the virus complicated?"

"It was Chloe and a small, trusted team, mostly," Elijah said, a lip corner tugging up. "I had other work that needed my attention. I was, however, able to read the coding of the virus. Rett's beginning phase wasn't complicated at all. There was no direction to it, just well-structured execution codes to attack androids' processors and software. To change their behavior, make them erratic and violent. But as the coding changed, so did the complexity of its structure and execution, causing drastic altercations in the virus itself."

"In English, please," Hank groaned.

Kamski took a drink, eyes twinkling, amused. "I mean that Rett's virus went from attacking androids and making them go crazy, to something much more advanced."

"Advanced how?" North asked.

"It's all about control now."

"Control?" Simon grunted. "You mean Rett wants to control the infected androids?"

Kamski stared at his glass, whisking the alcohol around. "It looks that way. But it doesn't sit well with me."

"Why?" Hank asked.

"Rett is a highly intelligent man, but this…this was above his level. Someone else rewrote that coding." After glancing them over and seeing their worried faces, Elijah waved it off with a half-laugh. "Of course, with this antivirus program, we have nothing to worry about."

Hank and the others exchanged looks, unsure.

"Hank told me about one of our infected friends on the drive over here. Markus should've been infected by him a couple days ago, but he didn't. Care to explain why?" Simon asked.

A sly smile and Elijah downed the rest of his drink. "What is there to explain? You know that Markus is a prototype that I developed years ago. He's more advanced than most. Only the RK800s can match him as far as most abilities and specs go. I mean really, is it that much of a surprise to you? Your leader can convert androids just by being around them."

"Does that have anything to do with why Rett would want him?" Hank asked, eyes narrowing.

Kamski caught his glare, challenging him with his own. "I'm sure, but I wouldn't know the precise reasoning why."

Hank sighed. By this point, he was sure Kamski could kill a man and talk his way out of punishment. It made Hank wonder exactly how much they could trust him in any of this. What Hank knew for sure, however, is that Kamski knew way more than he would tell. At all times.

Ringing erupted in his pocket. Hank blinked, it taking a moment to register it was his cell phone. He dug it out, expecting to see a call from Jeffrey or the station, but the number was unknown. He stared at the number, the ring chiming again, the light of the touch screen burning his eyes.

He almost let it go to voicemail, but something within him told him to answer. He hit the button and put the phone to his ear.

"Lieutenant Hank Anderson speaking."

"Hank! I was starting to think you wouldn't answer!"

Hank jumped to his feet, the voice resonating in his chest and making his heart jump with him. "CONNOR! Is it really you?!"

"Y-Yes, it's me. Really me, not the rogue. I barely got away, but now the police are hunting me."

"Where are you?"

"West Side Industrial, near the river."

"Meet me at-" Hank bit his tongue.

Simon shook his head, eyes wide. He pointed at his temple, telling Hank that the PL600 couldn't get ahold of his partner. It would explain the strange phone number.

"Hank, please. It's really me." Connor sounded desperate. "My communications were damaged by Rett or by the rogue, I-I'm not quite sure."

Hank's heart fell to the pit of his stomach, making him sick. He didn't know what to think. It could be the rogue luring him into a trap. But what if it really was his Connor? Hank cursed inwardly. Why couldn't he tell the difference? He should be able to see it, to hear it! To know his Connor without the shadow of any doubt.

There was only one way to find out. He would have to meet him somewhere, and take caution doing it. But if it was his Connor, he couldn't risk saying the location in case his phone was tapped by the FBI searching for him.

Hank thought hard, and took a deep breath. He spoke slowly into the phone, calmly reciting words he knew his Connor heard before. "I used to come here a lot before…"

He hung up, pocketing the cell phone. He dug out his keys. Simon, North, and Josh rose to their feet while Kamski watched them curiously, fixing his hair.

"Hank, I cannot get ahold of Connor. It has to be the rogue again."

"Me neither," North said. "It could be a trap!"

"I have to make sure," Hank said, resolved. "If it's the rogue, then I will kill him."

Simon tried to appeal to Hank. "At least take one of us with you. We can tell you right away if it's Connor or not."

"No, stay here. Whatever that note says, you three have to be ready for it. Besides, I cannot put you in danger if it is that fucker with a trap ready. This is my deal. I'll either be back with the real Connor, or…"

He trailed off, grimacing. He left the villa, getting into his car and speeding out towards the Ambassador Bridge.

Riverside Park was empty, silent in the haze of shadow and starlight. The playground wasn't as inviting in the darkness, the wind causing metal hinges and chains to cry out for playmates.

Connor stared into the dark water of the river, leaning on the iron railing that lined the perimeter of the park. The wind swept through with an eerie call, churning waves and sloshing water onto the banks below.

This was where Hank wanted to meet. He came here to think on days that pulled him into the past. But Hank and Connor also came here after long days to enjoy the view and converse, on the same bench that months ago Hank sat on asked Connor what he really was. Connor recalled the gun in between his eyes, the hard stare of a broken man as he questioned a machine if he was afraid to die.

Ambassador Bridge loomed in the distance, casting a lighted path to another world across the canal.

Connor looked to the sky, the stars bright across a black, infinite canvas. He felt so small looking at them. Their beauty and endless radiance a spectrum he couldn't comprehend, but could surely admire. He could certainly see why Hank thought there was a heaven somewhere out there, and maybe, there was.

He put a hand to his chest, over the biocomponent that mimicked a heart. At least those with a soul anyway.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, his systems overloaded with emotions. He was sure this was the worst day of his life so far. And it may never return to how it was before.

He felt so alone right now. His own co-workers hunted him down, didn't trust him. He was branded a cop killer, and his rights were muddled with the threat of the virus. His friend was captured, in danger, his other friends surely putting their lives at risk to stop this conspiracy, to save him and Markus. Connor may have escaped, but Amanda still wanted him. He would still be hunted by the RK900 and Connor 50. And his chances of escaping them were minuscule going back in to save Markus.

He needed his best friend. The man he looked up to, the one who showed him what it meant to be human, to help him understand the depth of such feelings, what it meant to be alive.

Connor knew what a family was, saw it every day. Markus had a family with Carl, Leo, North, Simon, and Josh. Hank was Connor's family. But now that he was out here, alone, exposed, he grasped it. Felt it for what it truly was. Hank was the Carl in his family, and he needed him right now.

"Hands in the air, no sudden moves."

The voice caught him off guard, having been swallowed into his inner thoughts. But he recognized it, and it dropped his stress quite a bit. His Thirium heart went up several beats, and it felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders.

He spun around, but he found Hank near his favorite bench with his weapon aimed at Connor. Connor's mouth opened, stunned, his arms slowly rising. He felt like something just ripped through his inner core.

"H-Hank, please. It's me." Connor took a step towards him.

Hank took measured steps, eyes sharp, wary. His weapon didn't falter in his hands. "I said don't move!"

No. His own family didn't trust him. The rogue destroyed everything in his life. Connor's eyes fell, the hurt in his chest congesting his functions. His hands shook, his LED going red.

[Stress level: 97%]

"It's r-really me, Hank. Please…believe me."

His whole body shook, and Connor couldn't understand what was wrong with him. His face was wet, and he looked up, thinking it was raining. There wasn't a single cloud in the night sky. He put a wobbly hand to his face and withdrew it, seeing liquid on his fingertips.

A soft moan escaped his throat, and he couldn't believe it. He was crying. For the first time in his life, he was actually crying.

Strong arms enclosed around him, pulling him in close. The hug was accompanied by a sound he cherished. Hank's heart thumped in his ear, and Connor returned the hug with a muffled cry.

"Shh, shh. I'm here, son. I'm here. Goddammit, I'm so sorry, Con. I'm sorry. I should know better! I should've known the difference! But now…now I see it. I see it, son. I won't ever doubt you again."

They stayed like that for several minutes. Connor's stress dropped significantly, and he calmed down, the tears stopping. Hank pulled back, looking him over, rubbing Connor's head.

"Are you alright?"

"No. Worst day ever."

Hank choked on a weak laugh. "Fuck yeah it is. C'mon, let's get out of here."

Connor swallowed, his LED still yellow. He walked with Hank out of the park. Hank's hand came up to pat Connor's back, his blue eyes watching him closely.

"You have to tell me what happened, b-but when you're ready, okay?"

Connor nodded.

"I sure did miss you. I thought…I thought I would never see you again."

"Me too, Hank."

As they entered the parking lot of the park, a bright light blinded them. A drone hovered overhead, an alarm blaring from its speakers. Connor froze, an arm shielding his eyes from the light. A gunshot went off, startling him. The drone dropped from the sky, crashing to the asphalt with sparks. Connor looked over, saw Hank holstering his handgun.

"Hurry!" he yelled.

They ran the rest of the way to his car. Hank turned the vehicle on and peeled out of there, heading the opposite direction of encroaching sirens.

"Hank…you'll get in trouble if they catch you helping me elude the police."

"You think I give a fuck? You're more important to me than my damn job."

Connor lowered his eyes, rubbing his hands together in his lap.

"We'll fix this, Connor. I promise."

Hank's cell phone rang. Using his elbow to drive, he fished the device out of his pocket and answered it. Connor read the signals on the phone. It was Simon. Hank put the phone on speaker and clipped it on the hands-free stand on the car's console.

"Simon, what's up?"

"Oh, Hank. You're alright. Did you find Connor? Was it really him?"

"I'm here, Simon," Connor said.

"Everything is fine. How's everything going at Kamski's?"

"Chloe finished decrypting the note. It's sorta unsettling, but…it tells of a place called Roland. That may be where Rett is hiding."

"That is correct. Roland High School. I escaped from there. Markus was with me, but I wasn't able to free him before I escaped."

They heard an "oof" from Simon, and then North's voice came through. "If that's where Markus is then we have no time to lose. Let's go. We can meet you there!"

Hank looked over at Connor. Connor shuddered at the thought of returning to the school so soon. He hadn't recovered from the trauma his day put him through. But he couldn't abandon Markus. He couldn't allow them to go in there without his help.

"We don't have to do this," Hank said softly.

Connor's fingers curled into fists on his thighs, brows furrowing. "Yeah, we do. Markus needs us. Let's do it."

"Are you sure about this?"

He thought his voice had been lost to the busy roaring of the overpass above. Hank's car was parked under the structure, and they waited in the shadows for their friends.

Connor nodded, although Hank didn't miss the unease on his partner's face. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine, Hank. We need to save Markus."

"I can call in the location, have the police handle it. That way no one gets hurt- or worse."

"If you can talk North and Simon out of it, sure."

Hank thinned his lips, pacing next to the car. There would be no way he could talk North and Simon into waiting. Josh was the only level-headed one. Simon was always careful, but not when it came to Markus.

"Goddammit," Hank growled, hands on his hips. "I'm not losing you again. We'll scope it out first. If we're going to be outnumbered, then I'm calling it in."

"If the rogue has his slaves with him, we will be."

Connor had explained everything to Hank while they waited for North, Simon, and Josh. He told Hank what he had learned about Rett's plans, who the fake Connor really was. It disturbed him to know that Kamski's implication on the rogue had been right on the money.

"I still don't like it that you let the RK900 go. After all he's done…you should've taken your chance and killed him."

Connor frowned, weakly shrugging. "Guess we'll find out soon whether it was a mistake or not."

Hank knew the truth. His partner didn't fear the rogue, or the RK900. He didn't fear Rett or his followers, or the androids that Connor 50 controlled. It was Amanda. He feared her gaining control over him, trapping him forever.

Hank wasn't sure how he could comfort him about it either.

"Hey, look at me," he said.

Connor's brown eyes met Hank's.

"Whatever happens…I won't let you be taken back to her. I won't let her have you. Understand?"

His partner nodded, a weak smile hinting on his lips.

When Hank had come up behind Connor at Riverside Park, he didn't know what to think. He was torn between his heart and his head. His heart told him it was his Connor, but his head told him it could be the rogue ready with a trap. He was going to ask Connor to show him the blemish on his chest to be sure, but then Connor broke down and cried. Hank knew then. Felt the realness of that sorrow. Hank was convinced now. It didn't matter how well Connor 50 pretended anymore. He would always know his Connor…the real Connor.

Three silhouettes came around the corner of a silent building. Simon, North, and Josh walked over to Hank and Connor. Hank wasn't surprised they brought guns. They each had a handgun, but North also carried a bag that Hank knew held a rifle.

Hank sighed. "Before we do this shit, here's the deal. We're gonna scope the place out first. If there are too many of them, I'm calling the police. I'm not risking any one of you. Got it?"

"But!" North snapped. Simon elbowed her hard, making her grumble something to herself.

Connor led the way to the abandoned school. It wasn't even a block away, and when they stepped foot into the schoolyard, they took to some overgrown bushes for shelter.

Hank looked around the schoolyard. It was abandoned, overrun with tall grass and upkept landscaping. There was no light on in the school, at least on this side of the building. North used her sniper rifle to look to the upper floors and to the windows further from them.

"Don't see anything on this side," North said.

Connor led them across the schoolyard to the southside, where the back of the building was. He pointed out the window he escaped from when they took cover behind a deserted sedan.

Hank spotted the faint glow of lights on the second floor, and they waited, watching for any signs of life.

"Something's wrong," Connor whispered. "My scanning shows no signs of movement within the building."

"Mine neither," Simon said.

"Screw this," North said, standing up.

"North!" Josh hissed.

"Fucking women," Hank grumbled, going after her.

Connor, Simon, and Josh caught up. The five of them entered the school through the back entrance. Hank and Connor took the lead, all of them holding their weapons to their sides. Hank had to use a flashlight to see, but the only life he saw just before hitting the second floor was a rat that scampered up the steps.

The second floor had battery LED lights lighting a path through the hallways. The school sat in silence, a cool air moving through the rooms. A groan and a crash sounded down from them, making them jump. They remained frozen on the spot, listening, waiting. Simon and Josh were antsy, eyes darting around. North held her grit as always, eyes sharp ahead.

Hank looked to Connor. His partner nodded at him, signaling it was safe. Hank motioned the others to continue. They turned down another corridor, classroom doors open on either side. Hank felt nauseous. His old, detective instincts told him something was wrong. He could tell Connor felt the same way, his pace speeding up slightly as they saw no sign of anyone.

Connor stopped not long after the next hallway they entered, his LED flashing a bright yellow within the shadows. His eyes were to the floor, and Hank saw it.

"Holy shit."

"Is that…blood?" Josh grunted.

Blood drops, large and uneven, splattered across the dirty tile. But that wasn't all of it. Shoe prints…bloody shoe prints made tracks up and down the pathway.

Connor looked ahead, moving forward with brisk steps. Hank followed after him.

"Hey," he whispered harshly. "Slow down, there might-"

"No one's here," Connor stated.

They came upon an old biology lab. This room was lit more than the hallways, the sound of a quiet running generator in the far back. When they entered the lab, the smell of blood hit Hank like bus, and he coughed.

"Oh my god!"

There had to be eight or nine people dead in this room. Rats scurried away from their presence, some covered in gore. Josh had to step out, hand going over his mouth. North was stunned, frozen in the doorway. Simon stooped down to turn one of the humans over.

"These people are from CyberLife," he said.

"It's Rett and his followers," Connor said. Hank saw him kneel down by a dead man further in the room.

"What happened to them?" Hank asked, his stomach churning.

Connor grimaced, his eyes scanning the bodies lying in the room. "The rogue did this. He killed them all."

"I thought the rogue was working with them?" Simon inquired.

"If they are dead, who's controlling the RK900 and Amanda?" Hank asked.

Connor shook his head. "I-I don't know."

North put her back to the wall, sliding down to the floor. "Markus…"

"Mom…Mom, wake up!"

Kara opened her eyes, slipping out of rest mode. She blinked, sitting up in bed as Alice drew back. Luther stirred also, his large form rising up from the sheets.

"Honey, what is it?" Kara asked.

"I-I had a bad dream," Alice mumbled.

"Bad dream?"

She nodded, holding herself. Kara grabbed her daughter and pulled her in for a hug.

"What happened?" Luther asked.

"I was trapped in this big room full of zombies. There was no way out. And you guys were taken from me! And-And there was this wolf! He was wanted to eat me. He controlled the zombies."

Kara kissed the top of Alice's head, pulling back to look at her. "Alice, what did I tell you about reading those kinds of books? You know they give you nightmares."

"B-But I, but I-"

Luther chuckled, grabbing Alice up into a big hug. "It's okay, sweetie. There're no such things as zombies or big bad wolves."

Kara smiled at the sight. Alice calmed down, hugging her father back. Luther got up, holding her and rocking her some. He put her down a few minutes later.

"Better?"

Alice slowly nodded.

"You should go back to sleep then, baby girl," Luther said.

"But…I can't sleep. Can we take a walk? Please?"

Luther looked to Kara. Kara got out of bed, pointing towards their bags of clothes on the nearby dresser.

"Alright, but just a quick one. Get dressed."

Alice grabbed some clothes and disappeared into the next room to change out of her pajamas. Kara and Luther dressed and waited for their daughter.

"She has such a wild imagination. I don't know how many times I've told her to watch what she reads and watches," Kara said. "Do you ever have nightmares, Luther?"

The large man thought it over, slowly shaking his head. "No. I dream a lot. But I don't remember ever having a bad one."

Kara thought back, cycling through her memories for any dreams or nightmares she may have had. She dreamt once in a while, mostly of her, Luther, and Alice. She recalled some unpleasant dreams, some that took her back to escaping Todd and being on the run. But there was one other dream, locked in the dark corners of her mind. She didn't like to open it. It made no sense to her, but it did upset her like a bad dream.

It had been a long time since she accessed the dream memory. She recalled stark white walls, high tech machines, lab coats. There were numbers on the floor and on the walls, perhaps depicting directions. One number stood out to her, but as she tried to evoke it, the memory glitched.

"Hello, Kara. How are you this morning?" The voice was so familiar, yet so undeniably strange to her.

She tried to recall the face, unaware the memory raised her stress level. But when she forced the man to appear, the memory fizzled her sight, errors running across her optical matrix.

[Memory corrupted/Cannot access/Recovery needed]

"Kara?"

She jumped, Luther's hand waving in her face. "Y-Yes?"

"You ready to go?"

Alice waited by the door, dressed. Kara nodded, burying the unknown memory and the unpleasant feelings it brought with it. With a smile, she rose from the bed and they left their room to walk around the Jericho Center.

Alice kept to the front of them, looking around as they took rooms and hallways. Many androids were up, visiting, watching television or playing games. Some stood near walls in rest mode.

"Do you think Ralph is around?" Alice asked.

"I'm not sure. Maybe."

Kara wondered if Simon, North, or Josh were back yet. Last she heard, Markus had been taken by the RK900. She was only privy to that knowledge because Simon messaged her to stay put at the center, that the danger was far from over.

She knew Connor was still missing too, and that another RK800 had tricked Hank Anderson, somehow involved in this conspiracy. Kara had relayed all she had known to Luther, but they agreed to not say anything to Alice, knowing their daughter would only become more anxious in their situation.

They went to the main hall of Jericho Center. Alice wanted to see the large fountain in the back. Numerous androids were up here as well, quiet chatter filling the hall.

Kara wondered how many androids had been cured already, knowing that Simon and Josh worked on it most of the day before she came to them with Ralph. The antivirus was available here and at other android repair centers within the city. She definitely didn't see near as many that were sick, or showing the symptoms of being infected.

"Ralph!" Alice exclaimed.

The android child ran up to the WR600 as he stood near a wall. He looked around with quick, jumpy looks, fidgety as usual. Although, Kara did sense a lot more stress from him than normal.

"Oh…hi Alice. How are you?"

"I'm okay. I had a bad dream."

"Ralph hates bad dreams."

"Me too!"

Ralph continued to shift his gaze around the crowds of androids within the main hall, as if every single one of them had a bad agenda.

"Ralph, is everything alright?" Kara asked. She was sure it was his usual reservations, his usual anxiety of the strangers around him, but asked anyway.

"Something is wrong…very wrong."

Kara exchanged glances with Luther. "What do you mean?"

"You see them, don't you? The ones with LEDs? They turn white a lot. They are unaware. They feel fine, but they are not fine. It's happening more and more. Was just a flicker or two once in a while, but now some of them are staying white for minutes…even hours."

Kara sighed. "Ralph, it's just a bug from the anti-virus destroying the virus. They said it's normal, and that the white phase only lasts a minute."

"But look!"

Kara looked around. Several androids did have flickering white LEDs. They visited or walked around as if nothing was wrong. There were many androids without LEDs, but most of the ones who did have one, they glowed white, blinking softly. A few were blue, but they didn't seem to worry about the strange color on the temples of their friends.

"R-Ralph thinks we should leave."

Kara shook her head, noticing Alice hiding behind Ralph as she looked around the main hall. "We can't leave…the RK900 is out there. I'm still being hunted. Markus said this was the safest place for us."

"And look what happened to him," Ralph said.

"Maybe we should return to our room," Luther suggested.

Kara agreed, grabbing Alice's hand. They started to leave the main hall, Ralph following close behind. The sliding front doors opened, and several androids entered the building, all with glowing white LEDs.

In that instant, the main hall fell silent. Kara felt her circuits buzz under her skin. Each blinking white LED in the main hall cycled once with a faint chime and then remained white. Only the few with no LEDs or blue LEDs made a sound.

An RK800 entered the center, dressed in dark clothes. Kara knew right away it wasn't their friend Connor. His LED was a steady blue, and Kara saw his dark eyes scan the hall, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Alice gasped, her little form bumping into Kara as she desperately tried to hide.

"No!" she squeaked.

"Alice?! What is it?"

"It's him!"

"Who?" Kara was wide-eyed. She looked back at the RK800 as he leisurely strolled through the main hall with a smirk, knowing he had to be the source of Alice's fear.

"Honey, that isn't the Connor that chased us across the highway."

"N-No! You don't remember him?!" Alice took a deep breath. "Oh, no. You were reset after that…"

Luther put his large form in the path of the RK800. Then it clicked. That must've been the rogue that set Markus up and tricked Hank.

Kara looked at the androids around them, the ones with glowing white LEDs just standing there, reminiscent of machines. There were many without LEDs doing the same thing. The other androids shook their friends, trying to wake them up.

Kara covered her mouth, stifling a cry. The RK900 entered the main hall behind the rogue, his grey eyes sharp as he looked about, fists clenched at his sides.

"We n-need to go," Ralph whispered, shaking.

Kara grabbed up Alice and they slipped around the corner to leave the main hall. They stopped short. Their path was blocked by several androids, most with glowing white LEDs. Their expressions were blank, soulless, as they moved…As though invisible strings were connected to their limbs, controlled by a puppet master.

"Some things never change."

The familiar voice hit her back, but it wasn't near as cordial as the last Connor she spoke to. She spun around, pushing Alice behind her. The rogue was there, looking her over, the RK900 just behind him. He stopped just in front of her with a devious smile, locking his eyes with hers. Kara froze. She had no idea who he was, but apparently, she was supposed to.

The scenario was familiar, and Kara instantly remembered Alice's bad dream. The zombies surrounded them at this very moment. Her biocomponent heart dropped, dread seizing everything electrical under her skin. She was staring at the wolf…

"You look different," he said, looking over her hair and appearance. "But you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

[almosttenaciouscreator]

Best PS5 Accessories For 2021: PlayStation 5 Headsets, Controllers

The PlayStation 5 launched with a range of first-party PS5 accessories, from the DualSense Wireless Controller to the Pulse 3D Headset and PlayStation Media Remote, but while each of these can enhance your experience in different ways, they're not the only accessories for Xbox worth picking up for your new console. Brands like Logitech, Razer, Samsung, and SteelSeries all have quality products designed specifically for the PS5 (or that will work via backwards compatibility), and now that the PS5 has been on the market for some time, you can find a PS5 accessory for pretty much any specific need at this point. With that in mind, we've rounded up the very best PS5 accessories worth picking up so far, from standard controllers and headsets to flight sticks, racing wheels, external storage, and more.

For more recommendations on PS5 software and accessories for playstation, check out our guides to the best PS5 games of 2021, plus the best PS5 headsets and controllers beyond just the first-party options.

Sony's PS5 DualSense controller is a fantastic upgrade over the PS4's DualShock 4, reshaping the controller to give it a more comfortable, ergonomic shape and more easily visible light bars on either side of the touchpad. Its standout feature is the haptic feedback that, when fully utilized in compatible games, creates immersive vibrations that really let you feel what's happening in the game. Adaptive triggers work in tandem with this as well to further enhance PS5 games, offering different levels of resistance in the L2 and R2 triggers to simulate the feeling of, for instance, drawing back a bowstring. This can also be used to make different weapons, like guns, feel different when switching between them. Overall, the DualSense is an excellent controller that feels kind of magical when its features are fully utilized, and now that two new colors, Midnight Black and Cosmic Red, are available, there's good reason to pick up a second one just to have for multiplayer or switching to while your first controller charges.

Sooner or later, you're probably going to want to pick up a charging station for your DualSense controller, and this official one from Sony can charge two at once, meaning you'll always have a controller ready to go when you get that low-battery notification. It takes a little getting used to, but when you slide a controller in, you'll hear a slight click and see it light up, letting you know it's connected and charging. In terms of convenience, this is easily one of the best PS5 accessories to pick up as soon as you can. No one likes messing with a charging wire.

Surprisingly, the PS5's first-party headset option, the Pulse 3D, is on the more affordable end of the spectrum for quality headsets; however, this is paired with a build that does feel somewhat flimsy, cheap, and easy to break. On the flip side, it delivers rich audio using Sony's proprietary Tempest 3D AudioTech, which really brings surrounding environments alive in PS5 games like Spider-Man: Miles Morales, letting you hear subtle sounds and get a better sense directionally of what's around you. It also supports both wireless and wired connectivity for not only PS5 but also PS4, PC, and Mac, with a battery life of up to 12 hours. At the end of the day, it's still one of the best PS5 headsets to buy, especially if you don't want to break the $100 mark, but there are even better third-party headsets we recommend that fall between $150 and $200.

SteelSeries headsets have been very popular for years, and the Arctis 7P is its next-gen headset designed specifically for PS5, though we like it for its versatility, as you can also use it with PS4, PC, Android, and Nintendo Switch thanks to an included USB-C dongle. Featuring 2.4GHz wireless audio and a low-latency connection, the Arctis 7P also pairs nicely with the PS5's 3D audio tech with excellent sound quality for such a versatile headset. Like the BlackShark V2 Pro, it's also a more durable and comfortable option than the Pulse 3D, with a lightweight steel frame and elastic ski goggle band for an adjustable fit. It also has a retractable, bidirectional microphone for clear voice capture and a 24-hour battery life to last during all-day gaming sessions.

For those planning on streaming their PS5 gameplay on Twitch or YouTube, the PlayStation HD camera is one essential accessory that'll make the entire process a breeze. Featuring 1080p capture, the PlayStation HD camera lets you record yourself and your gameplay by using the DualSense's share button, and by using the PS5's built-in background removal tools, you can add yourself to gameplay videos while streaming in picture-in-picture mode. You can crop the background or even lose it completely if you have a green screen.

The Razer Raion has long been one of our picks for the best PS4 controllers, and it still works great for playing backwards-compatible PS4 games on PS5. Though its layout may look strange, the Razer Raion is optimized for fighting games, and its six-button layout resembles what you'd find on a fight stick. It has a fantastic, clicky D-pad and is lightweight enough to comfortably hold in one hand, letting you tap on the rows of buttons piano-style. However, it also has digital buttons for every DualShock 4 shoulder button and trigger if you prefer to use it that way. Also convenient is the fact that you won't need to switch between the Raion and a more fully-featured Ps5 controller faceplate for things like character customization, as it lets you map the D-pad to the left and right analog sticks. Though the Razer Raion isn't for most PlayStation games and certainly not every type of gamer, for fighting game fans, it's a budget-friendly option that will take your experience in games like Mortal Kombat 11 and Tekken 7 to the next level.

The Victrix Pro FS is on the expensive end of fight sticks, but for hardcore fighting game fans, it's worth every penny, and it's forward-compatible with PS5. The Victrix Pro FS has a premium build made of durable aluminum and authentic Sanwa Denshi parts, its buttons are satisfyingly clicky, and the joystick is equally satisfying to use as well as accurate in its movements. In addition to all the essential fight stick buttons, it has several added features including three programmable buttons, customizable audio, lighting adjustments, and an easy access door for swapping out components. It's also a travel-friendly stick with a removable joystick, a plastic organizer to wrap your cables around, and handles for carrying. Costing as much as a console, the Victrix Pro FS isn't for everyone, but if you're serious about having the best fighting game experience on Ps5 dual charging and competitive play, this is an excellent investment.

As with fighting games, you can certainly use your regular old DualSense with racing games, but if you're passionate about the genre and want a more realistic experience with games like Gran Turismo Sport and Assetto Corsa Competizione, a racing wheel and set of pedals is designed for just that. Released in August 2020, Logitech's next-gen racing wheel, the G923, has everything you need for the best racing experience on dongle Ps5. Its TrueForce technology delivers next-gen force feedback with a physics engine that's directly connected to the wheel for heightened responsiveness. Essentially, the wheel synchronizes with your gameplay to deliver a more immersive and realistic experience. The downside is that right now, TrueForce is supported for only a handful of games: Grid, Assetto Corsa Competizione, iRacing, Gran Turismo Sport, Showrunner, and Dirt Rally 2.0.

The Logitech G923 also features a programmable dual clutch launch assist to get you off the starting line cleaner and faster, a progressive spring brake to simulate a pressure-sensitive brake system, a built-in rev indicator that can show you when you're redlining, and a whole set of customization options via Logitech's G Hub software.

Most flight sticks out there are designed for PC, but with flight sims having a bit of a resurgence recently thanks to games like Star Wars Squadrons and Microsoft Flight Simulator, we're starting to see more options for consoles. The official PlayStation-licensed Thrustmaster T.Flight HOTAS 4 is an affordable option that, crucially, is also widely available to buy. It'll work great with games like Star Wars Squadrons and Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown.

A great entry-level flight stick for those just dipping their toes into the flight sim genre, the T.Flight HOTAS 4 features adjustable joystick resistance, a detachable throttle, and a dual-rudder system that operates by rotating the handle with an integrated locking system or by the progressive tilting lever. The flight system has five axes, 12 action buttons, one rapid-fire trigger, and one multidirectional hat switch for navigation/panoramic view.

The democratization of music production has meant that just about anybody can make music from their personal computer. As a result, there's a lot of great music coming out from people who wouldn't have been able to create anything 10 years ago.

That said, whatever personal DAW (digital audio workstation) you choose as your preference, you'll need to use plugins in order to procure certain sounds that you'll need for your music. The Complete 2021 Synth & Sound Software Bundle from Applied Acoustics sets you off immediately with a collection of 10 software kits that include psychoacoustic effects, piano tones, strumming patterns, sound effects, arrangements, and more.

Specifically, you'll get the Objeq Delay filter, which grants effects ranging from echoes to modulations to loops. On top of that, the bundle includes a variety of arpeggiators from composer David Kristian, a collection of folk loops from Celine Dion's keyboardist, and a bunch of other stuff that, in total, almost completely encompasses every possible preset or filter you could ever want for creating your own music. You can go through the different plugins yourself, but suffice it to say that musicians have raved about the different features included here. Whether you are an accomplished musician, like many of the contributors to this bundle are, or a novice beginner who is looking to dip your toes into an ocean of different DAW software, there's something of value for everyone who purchases this expansive bundle.

To put the cherry on top, you can get the Complete 2021 Synth & Sound Software Bundle from Applied Acoustics for just $30. If you've bought music plugins online before, you know how expensive they can be, so the value of this deal stands out even more at an average price of just $3 per individual software pack within. Start creating at a higher level and invest in your musical career with Applied Acoustics.

[gameaudiomix]

All in the Mix: Forza Horizon 4

‘All in the Mix’ is a series of interviews with leading practitioners in the video games industry who are pushing the boundaries of interactive mixing. In the second in the series, Fraser Strachan, Senior Audio Designer, from Playground Games talks with Rob Bridgett about the opportunities and challenges of mixing this incredible title.

RB: First up, Fraser, thank you for taking time out to chat about the mix of the game! Can you start by talking about the overall philosophy of the mix for Forza Horizon 4. Did you plan in advance anything you wanted to achieve with the mix specifically?

FS: The mixes for Forza Horizon games are always complex and every game presents new challenges. More than most games, we battle with constant full frequency sources clashing with one another. Our overall mix philosophy is governed by the Horizon Festival being both a music and car festival. Music and cars are just as important as one another, so there is a delicate balance between the two. It's worth noting that the Forza Horizon 4 mix also has to serve multiple purposes. It has to be exciting, bold, and energetic during what we call our "Initial Experience", whilst providing a lean back experience for those that continue to play the game for hundreds of hours. We want people to be on the edge of their seats sometimes, but we also don't want the game to sound fatiguing for those long play sessions with friends. To that end, we plan in advance for multiple mix states throughout the game such as our initial drive, freeroam, and races to help us meet these goals.

Something that we always plan for in advance is mix consistency. When you have hundreds of music tracks and over 500 cars, the mastering process alone can take several months. We always schedule plenty of time to ensure that no matter what radio station, and no matter what car, you will always roughly have the same mix experience.

One of the biggest things I had to consider with the mix for Forza Horizon 4 was having to mix for an existing franchise. Having already released 3 games in the series you start to set people’s expectations. Once players learn how to interact with your game using certain sound cues or mix levels, it can be hard to break away from those standards. I spent a lot of time researching our previous mixes to ensure that I was remaining faithful to the franchise.

RB: The spatialization and sense of play with music is something that I really loved in the game (diegetic to non-diegetic and back again). Can you talk about how important that was and if there were any challenges with working with music spatially?

FS: It's really important to us to try and ground the radio stations in the game as part of the world. We want players to hear the connection with the Horizon festival. We also want to ensure that the player gets to listen to the music that they chose to listen to. Rather than crossfade between the radio stations and some pre-baked festival music as you drive through, we crossfade between a spatialised version of your radio coming out of the speaker stacks. Our classical music station posed a slight challenge for the system because it doesn't make sense for the festival to be blaring out classical tracks. For this, we have to create switches that force the music to be 2D if you are on that station.

The main challenge of the 3D music system is getting the blending between 3D and 2D right whilst maintaining audibility. Crossfading between surround sound and a mono point source version with a smaller spread can cause volume balancing issues. Combined with the festival EQ treatment, you can easily create dead zones as you drive through the festival. We went through a lot of iteration passes to get the placement of 3D music emitters just right.

[Above: Forza Horizon 4: Radio Stations]

Our 3D music system adds interest throughout the world too and brings the festival vibe into races as you drive around the circuits. I actually flipped our 3D music philosophy for Forza Horizon 4 due to the introduction of our "Whitespace" loading screens. On Horizon 3 we would have 3D music in our pre- and post-race screens with 2D music during races. However, our ethereal whitespace leant itself to 2D music which allowed us to use 3D music during races.

RB: For your day to day process of implementing and crafting the sound for the game, can you go into a bit more detail of the day to day processes for mixing, for example, did you have a specific approach to mix portions of the game when they were complete, or did you pre-mix constantly as you went?

FS: We try to pre-mix as much as possible even during our initial implementation passes. Each system is never really handed off to be mixed, the mix passes just touch on areas that need tweaking. Pre-mixing as we go requires the audio designers to have a point of reference, therefore during production I try to establish a set of sounds which can be used to contextualise everything else. These are usually a handful of car engines with varying frequency content and a couple of music tracks. Those music tracks then become the mastering tracks and we try to slave everything to them.

When we hit mid-production I would start to do intentional mix passes every week where possible. These would normally see me combing through systems looking at gain structure and adjusting things at the lowest level possible. I try not to touch the mixer levels at all until the game is being finalised. For instance, I've seen problems in the past where an early decision is made to turn a mixer fader down by -10db and that results in audio designers cranking their sounds down at the lower levels which can cause all sorts of headaches.

In general, I try to chat to the audio designers about why I might change something in their system before I do it to instil our mix philosophies for future reference.

RB: In terms of sound options (in the user options menu) do you have a particular philosophy there where you give a lot of control over the mix to the player for getting the best kind of experience for them?

FS: Our main philosophy with regards to the sound options is to allow the player to play the game the way they want to play it. I feel that the mix allows for good all-round gameplay which is our "default mix" but some players might want to hear more of their tyres to give them a competitive advantage. Other players might just like their car engine to be a touch louder than the music if that is their preference. It's our way of giving mix clarity to those that have different priorities depending on their needs. Likewise, giving players the ability to completely turn off the DJ's voice or SAT NAV is important to us. It's a very subjective part of the experience that may otherwise cause them to turn the volume down completely. However, we don't allow the player to turn any one system down completely as it can really unbalance the mix.

RB: Obviously the feel, excitement and impact of driving these cars at incredible speed comes across incredibly well in the way the game sounds, often in a visceral way... Can you talk a bit about how you manage the dynamics of sound for the game - and by this i'm thinking more of the narrative dynamics of the race and the pressure of other cars approaching etc, there is a narrative element to the sound that I don't get from other racing titles..

​FS: There are a few dynamic mix techniques we use throughout every race both to provide mix clarity and to give the player the feedback they need to race as best they can. To begin with, we have a different mix state at the beginning of races which lasts throughout the countdown and slowly blends into a race mix over about 10 seconds. This "pre-race" mix state amps everything up by pulling back incidental sounds and placing the main focus on the music and your engine. We force the music to be 2D in this state so that it plays a narrative non-diegetic role. The start and end of our races are also punctuated by hitting pre-specified music drops which really bookend the experience.

Broadly speaking, our "race" mix puts more of a focus on the cars and the surface audio to allow the player to hear when they need to change gear or when they may be losing traction with the ground. We utilise a "pack density" parameter to determine how busy the area is around the player. The mix can become cluttered when there are half a dozen loud engines surrounding the player so this allows us to create some space. Conversely, if the player is out at the front of the pack then we can change the mix of remote players based on density, direction and distance to allow the player to hear someone approaching from the rear and give them enough time to react.

RB: Do the differing environmental/weather changes or other events kick in at scripted moments to add excitement, variety or change the mood etc?

FS: Seasons are a massive part of Forza Horizon 4, changing the entire landscape for players every week. Not only do seasons change the visuals of the game but they also change every part of the audio experience. We want the players to hear seasonal variations of a single race. The first dirt race the player comes across is in Summer and features hard surfaces with dry gravel. The player is then taken back the same race in Autumn where large puddles have formed and patches of wet squelchy mud cover the track. Seasons also bring with them unique weather conditions which can be scripted at different points of the races. Snow storms feature in Winter and rainy showers can come and go in Spring. We need to listen to and account for all of these weather conditions in the mix as the players can also create blueprint races where they can choose all of these conditions for themselves. Lightning storms were featured heavily in our first expansion pack "Fortune Island" which allowed us to play huge lightning strikes at certain points and these came with loud spatialised crashes.

RB: The Delta-Wing showcase was such an amazing opportunity to showcase the ATMOS overheads - I recall Andy Vaughn from Dolby telling me about this race with a jet-plane and I was blown away by that idea - even before playing it - this feels like a concept that was very much inspired by having the overhead spatial sound to play with? Is that how it was conceived?

​FS: Showcase races have become synonymous with the Horizon series and we always push to make audio a huge part of these experiences. The showcase races are a fantastic opportunity for us to implement Atmos moments as the camera is predominantly looking forward rather than up at the object making the sound. The Delta-wing, Halo, Flying Scotsman and Dirt Bike showcases were all perfect as the vehicles can all travel overhead.

[Above: Deltawing Showcase Race]

We knew that we were going to be implementing spatial audio long before anyone had decided upon the showcase vehicles so the ability for Atmos moments played a huge part in the vehicle criteria. This was only possible by the audio department getting involved in the design process from the offset. We also worked with the level designers early on to ensure that the vehicles always went directly above the car at least once in each of the races. In reality, by the time they were finished, there were around 4-5 Atmos moments in each race.

Another large Atmos moment for us is the Forzathon Live airship which shows up at a random location in the world on the hour. The sound of this is featured in the height channels alongside blaring 3D music as a beacon for players to follow.

RB: Do you have anything approaching what could be called a final mix phase in your audio production? Do you take the game anywhere different outside of the dev space to mix it?

FS: We are always working on other systems, bugs and finishing touches towards the shutdown of our games so we don't have a dedicated period of time where we only work on the mix. However, we do have intensive weekly mixing sessions with our game directors in the final couple of months. We are fortunate that our studio directors have keen ears and feel really passionate about making our games sound the best they can be. They will give as much time as they can to review mix changes in the final weeks.

We mix our game in multiple spaces around the studio in various configurations (7.1.4, 7.1, sound bars, headphones and TV speakers). Perhaps the most important listening experience is a consumer home environment as it is one of the most common endpoints. It's also the way I consume most of the media that I watch and play so my ears are well tuned into those types of devices.

I tried not to mix every day if possible so that I could return to the overall mix experience having left my last changes to settle a bit. Otherwise I think I’d easily get lost in the changes and loose a frame of reference.

RB: Finally, on the tech side of things can you tell me a little about the live tuning process of mixing the sounds in the engine? Are there any special mix features or techniques you can share?

FS: We probably use snapshots in FMOD Studio far more extensively than they were really intended for. On the one hand we have global mixes and on the other we can have hundreds of individual states for unique cinematics in our game. Sections of gameplay have their own attributed snapshot mixes too. This allows modular gameplay pieces such as our "Danger Sign" jumps to play at any time and still affect the mix in a predictable way. To allow shared global states, a variable attack and release system was also created for our global snapshot mixes which mean they can be configured by designers depending on the situation.

As you can imagine, with so many interchangeable mix states, we have to ensure that their priorities have been set up correctly using groups and hierarchies within middleware. One of the new features added to FMOD Studio recently was the ability to see what the combined fader values are when multiple snapshots are active. This is useful to make sure that nothing is being attenuated more than intended.

Another mix technique that I find extremely useful was to utilise our in-game replay system. This was incredibly handy when mixing races or showcases. It allowed me to play a race once and then infinitely loop the same section of gameplay to listen to mix changes.

RB: Thanks again to Fraser Strachan for this super in-depth interview, and congratulations to the whole team at Playground for delivering on this incredible experience.

Forza Horizon 4 is available now on Xbox One and Windows 

[losille2000]

A Saving Grace, Chapter 1

TITLE: A Saving Grace CHAPTER NUMBER: 1/? + Prologue AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Henry/CHARACTER: Actor!Henry GENRE: Drama/Romance FIC SUMMARY: All press is good press, right? Not if you ask Henry Cavill. After recordings from a disastrous interview go viral, Henry’s life begins to crumble around him. He has no idea how to stop it from happening. Fortunately, he has a new assistant who could be his saving Grace. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: Um, nothing yet. Maybe there’s more language in this than I usually use. And I think Henry will be a little dominant. But other than that... none. AUTHORS NOTES: Enjoy!

Previous Chapter. Also on AO3!

A Saving Grace Chapter 1

 Grace slammed her fist on the desk, rattling the computer monitor and other office supplies sitting on it.  She pushed away from her computer and leaned back in her chair, groaning at the ceiling. That was the sixth boyfriend in two years who sent a breakup email instead of having the decency to say it to her face. And that didn’t even include the endless parade of first dates that never turned into seconds, or some that didn’t even last past the first hellos.

 She was done with Internet dating. And Tinder. And all the other horrible websites out there claiming they were going to find her the perfect husband with their scientifically tested matching algorithms and stupidly sweet commercials. None of this shit worked for women who weren’t the idealized version of the feminine form.

 “What’s your problem?” asked the voice beside her.

Grace turned to the thin man sitting at the desk beside her in the open floorplan office.  He pulled off his large headphones and set them on his neck as she frowned. “Do I look like a cave troll, Eli?”

 Eli pursed his pillowy lips and tossed back the dark hair that had fallen in his amber colored eyes. He tried looking like a tortured hipster with frayed skinny jeans, plaid button downs with rolled up sleeves, and that ridiculous floppy hair, but there was no hiding that he was just another pretty boy underneath it all. “Only when Aunt Flo visits, baby.”

 “Ugh!” She kicked the leg of the table harder than she intended, crunching her toes in her bargain brand heels. “I’m so fucking done with this bullshit. Why’s it so hard to find a man in this godforsaken town?”

 Eli looked at her and shook his head. Of course, he didn’t need to answer. She already knew why. That’s what happens to people who live in the most vapid and self-centered place in the world.

 He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and lifted it so she could see, pointing a finger at the screen. “Do I need to call Ty and tell him we’re taking our wifey out drinking tonight?”

 “No,” Grace said. “I’m just going to hang out with Ben and Jerry tonight.”

 “Don’t do that, Graciela!” he cried. “We’ve been doing so good on the food plan!”

 Grace huffed. Yeah, well, she started the blasted food plan because her now ex-boyfriend suggested she do it. She didn’t even know why she agreed; she should have known he wasn’t worth it. All her life she’d been rounder, but she’d never really cared about it, even enjoyed having the extra shapeliness. Until him. Until she began realizing all the men she had any interest in wanted an extremely specific body type in their women. Now, however, she knew it was simply due to her choice in men and nothing to do with her. So that meant she either had to lower her expectations in men or live the rest of her life content with vibrators and fantasies.

 At least Eli and his husband had agreed to do the diet with her, though neither of them had any weight to lose and simply wanted to sculpt their muscles further. And of course, they’d been spectacularly successful, because they were men. Why did they always get it so easy?

 “I’m done with this shit,” she said. “I’m eating all the elotes and frijoles I want, starting this weekend at my mom’s birthday.”

 “Now don’t be drastic,” Eli urged, wheeling closer to her. “You’ve put in so much work.”

 She suffered the disgusting green smoothies and tasteless boiled chicken breasts for months only to lose two pounds. Grace shook her head. “Nope. I like enjoying food more, thank you very much.”

 They were disturbed by Eli’s office phone extension ringing. Grace looked back at her computer screen and the constantly updating Twitter stream scrolling across it. She should get back to work monitoring her accounts, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. Not today. Fuck all these people trying to be something they most certainly were not to impress others. Why had she ever gotten into public relations, anyway?

 She groaned and wheeled forward with another grumble under her breath, reaching for the computer mouse, but froze when she heard, “Navarro! Get in my office!”

 “Now doesn’t that make my fucking day,” she muttered under her breath. Being called to the boss’s office in that tone of voice did not bode well for her, even though she always made sure her work was impeccable. What was he planning to yell at her for now?

 Her boss, Dave, always found reasons to pick at her work or created traps to trip her up. In the beginning, she ignored it because public relations was hard in Hollywood—one of the most difficult fields in the entertainment industry. Emotions ran high and everyone was expected to be on their A-game every single minute of every single hour they were on the clock… and honestly, even when they were off the clock. Their clients’ careers depended on it, after all. She understood his picking in the beginning. As time marched on, though, with men promoted before her and hired after with less education and skill, plus the shit always seeming to land on her head when something went south, she was at a breaking point. And that didn’t even include the number of times he sent her on coffee runs or asked her to make copies when his male assistant was perfectly capable. Dave was nothing more than a sexist pig.

 Grace stood up from her desk and smoothed the sheer blouse over her stomach, making sure it was still tucked into the waist of her pencil skirt.  She bent to look in the little mirror she and Eli kept between them and breathed in a sigh. At least she wasn’t crying after the email, or it would have destroyed her makeup. She refused to give Dave the pleasure of seeing evidence of her emotions smeared all over her face.

 She quickly moved across the office floor and stopped in front of Dave’s door, knocking lightly and letting herself inside the room. Dave sat at the round meeting table inside with another man who was probably in his late forties, good looking with graying hair. She’d never seen him before. He smiled brightly and stood up to greet her.

 “Fred Wellington, Grace Navarro,” Dave introduced with a curt nod between them. “Sit down, Navarro.”

 She shot him a pointed frown and pulled a seat out. “What’s wrong?”

 Dave sat forward and folded his hands over a thick file. “Fred is Henry Cavill’s agent, here on behalf of Henry’s manager, Dany Garcia.”

 “Ooookay,” Grace said, dragging out the word.

 She knew about Henry Cavill. Everyone knew about Henry Cavill and what had happened to the once Golden Boy of the DC movies universe. He had an appalling interview with an unscrupulous journalist who published audio for a very large pay day. The things that were said in the interview were career and character suicide, whether the audio was heavily edited or not, and whether the journalist purposely backed Cavill into a corner to get the incriminating answers she wanted. In PR terms, he was dead in the water and needed resuscitation.

 His previous PR agency dropped him, which led them to her company, Elite Solutions PR, in the hope of recovering his image. Being such a high-profile person, Dave placed the account with his senior staff, not with her, a lowly social media specialist. She hadn’t heard much about the plans to bring his career back to life after the initial intake.

 “Ms. Navarro, nice to meet you.” Fred smiled kindly and stretched his hand out to shake hers. At least Fred seemed like a decent guy.

 Dave blustered and patted his tie down a slightly protruding beer gut.

 Grace smiled back. “You, too.”

 “Fred and I have been talking about the targeted campaign we’ve put together for his client’s reintroduction to the public,” Dave explained. “Since Warner Brothers decided to keep him on as Superman, they want to use the Justice League promo tour to help springboard a new image.”

 She nodded, trying not to hope this was Dave offering her a promotion. As much as she could use the boost in pay and an office of her own—with windows—she didn’t want this one because Dave would micromanage the shit out of her. “Why don’t you just send him to rehab like everyone else who needs an image reboot? People love comeback stories.”

 Fred sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve floated that to him, but he refuses.”

 “It worked with Affleck—”

 “Right, but it works in Ben’s favor because he plays Bruce Wayne. Superman is a golden hearted country boy and a stint in rehab doesn’t suit the image, which WB then agreed with. And his business manager didn’t like it either. It’s why we’re here and signing with Elite. Our previous PR fired him because he wouldn’t accept that media plan.”

 So on top of being a chauvinistic idiot stuck in the 50s, he’s stubborn as fuck. Great.

 “I’m not understanding why you need me, Dave. I’m just a social media specialist,” Grace said.

 Dave cleared his throat. “We’re getting there, Navarro.”

 She flattened her lips into a line. Double great, she thought. From his tone of voice alone, she knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

 “Henry has, however, agreed to play the long game. To be better in interviews and follow the guidance of his PR assistant in future interactions with the public,” Fred explained.

 “We’re planning to get him in at several charity functions along the publicity tour to bolster the positive side of his image,” Dave explained. “That’s in addition to a few puff pieces we’ve hand selected to give him the best coverage. When it comes to film-specific interactions, we will yield to WB’s publicist, but our firm will always be represented.”

 Grace understood. “So you’re sending him a babysitter.”

 Dave’s beady shit brown eyes narrowed. “Precisely, Navarro. And you’re the babysitter.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

 Fred gave her a tight smile. “He doesn’t have a personal assistant at the moment, either, so I thought whoever Dave selected for the position might take on a few of those tasks for the promo tour to cut cost. It’ll keep him out of trouble—away from clubs, women and alcohol. At least until this all blows over.”

 Grace puffed up her cheeks and blew out a long stream of air. “With all due respect, the man practically lives in a club. How do you think you’re going to keep him out of one?”

 “That’s your job,” Dave said.

 “And I am also a woman,” she replied. And I fucking love tequila.

 Dave glanced over at her, his eyes slithering down her body and back up to her face. He made his point without having to say anything, just like Miranda Priestly did to Andi Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada. She needed a scalding shower to clean off the slime now on her skin.

 “If I refuse?” Grace asked.

 “I’ll expect your resignation on my desk in the morning, then,” Dave replied.

 She rolled her eyes. What choice did she have anyway? It was fucking impossible to get your foot in the door at an agency like this anywhere in Los Angeles. She didn’t have the funds to move elsewhere in the world to a location with a high demand for publicists, and she certainly needed the funds she did have to pay her bills here. And then there was the matter of starting all over again, from the ground up, with no family or friends to help in a distant location. She sure as hell wasn’t about to do that with another boss who could be worse than Dave.

 Grace sank back into her seat and glanced across the table at Fred, who still looked apologetic about Dave’s behavior. At least there was someone with a little heart in this industry.

 “What about my other accounts?” she asked. She had no other suitable objections to the work but those.

 “We’ll split them between Elijah and Lachlan,” Dave said. “Your soul responsibility for the next two months is Cavill—make sure he stays on the straight and narrow and don’t let other people goad him into spouting off again.”

 She locked her jaw and gave him a swift, curt nod. She could do it; what could possibly be so hard about shepherding a wayward movie star? She just wished that someone else had been assigned the task. PR assistant was one thing, but they also wanted her to be part personal assistant. Knowing that Dave thought so little of her contribution to the office that he was willing to assign her a task rife with picking up dry cleaning and grocery shopping set her teeth on edge. Or maybe he had the greatest amount of trust in her that she’d do the job so well, that he felt comfortable giving her the responsibility?

 Grace looked at the balding man again. No, he didn’t trust her. Couldn’t possibly. She didn’t have the necessary appendage. But she was a woman, so he must have figured she’d be good at getting coffee and cleaning up after an arrogant actor.

 “When do I start?” she asked.

 Fred smiled. “Tomorrow morning. Say… ten? You can dress casually, though. No need for business attire…”

 …when you’re running around doing errands.

 Yeah, she knew what he meant.

 “Great,” she replied and turned to Dave. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to finish off if I’m handing my accounts over before I leave.”

 Dave waved her off without another thought.  She nodded at Fred and beat a hasty retreat out of his office. She went directly for Eli’s desk and held her hand out, wiggling her fingers. “I need a cigarette.”

 “Okay, I’m definitely not letting you have one of those,” he said, looking up at her. “You told me never to let you have another one when you quit last year.”

 “But I need one,” she groaned. “My life has just turned to shit in a half hour and I need something. Anything.”

 Eli squinted. “That bad, huh?”

 Grace groaned and raked a hand through her long black-brown hair. Her fingers snagged on a tangle deep in the voluminous tresses. She winced. “Please.”

 He reluctantly pulled out his latest pack and stuck one in her hand with the rainbow-colored lighter. Eli was never one for subtlety. “Don’t come crying to me because you’re hooked again.”

 She rolled her eyes and darted through the office for the exit leading to the outdoor smoking area. Even before she flicked the wheel on the butane lighter, she felt the tingle and burn of smoke filling her lungs, the eventual long pull relaxing her frayed nerves. God, she needed one of these.

 Grace sucked in another mouthful, resting her back against the brick façade of their first-floor office. The heat of the sun had baked the red bricks throughout the day, which in turn heated her back and scratched against her body like a five-hundred-dollar hot stone massage, which she definitely didn’t have the money for, so it was nice to lean there and enjoy the sensation. Small pleasures and all that.

 She turned her face up to the clear blue sky and hot sun. Sometimes living in SoCal had a lot of negatives like superficiality and traffic, but warmth in October was definitely a positive. It wouldn’t be this warm in the other places she would be traveling in the coming months; she figured it was worth it now to soak it all up. Why she even considered leaving LA a few minutes ago confused her. Between the sunny days and her family, she couldn’t imagine living any other place in the world.

 A clearing throat made her turn her head.  She blinked away the sun, allowing her pupils time to adjust to the shadow on her left. Fred was standing just outside the door, his hands in his pockets. He was taller than her, not by much, but he still gave her a feeling that he was powerful. Except he was also soft spoken and one of those men who didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard.

 “I’m sorry for intruding,” he said. “I wanted to talk with you a little more.”

 “About?” she asked, raising a brow at him. Her objective with their mutual client was simple: mollycoddle the hell out of him and don’t let him talk to anyone.

 He smiled. “About your new charge.”

 Grace dropped her shoulders and pushed away from the wall. She snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray to her right and stepped into the shade. Dark skin or not, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with skin cancer.

 “He’s a decent guy. I know what you must have heard about the story and it doesn’t paint that type of picture,” Fred said, “but I’ve never known him to be like that—with me or with women. Sometimes, though, he has word vomit. He’s almost… socially awkward, you know?”

 She nodded. Even though she’d worked in this business for five years and met a lot of famous people who always seemed to have it all, there was always something that they were desperate to overcome or hide. It’s why they hired publicists—to hide or minimize their brokenness or their problems. The public wanted perfection. They wanted to live their lives in dream worlds and fantasies based on these people who supposedly had it all. Unfortunately, the public usually didn’t get to see just how fucked up their idols’ lives were because of people like her.

 “He’s been my client for ten years now. He’s good people and I want to see him succeed, not just because he’s my star right now,” Fred said.

 She heard his earnestness. Fred was a good guy, whether he was a cutthroat in the industry or not. “I understand.”

 He coughed into his hand and stepped forward. “And I want to make sure that you’ll do your best. Dave can be—”

 “Yeah, I know,” she said. “But he’s the best fixer in this industry.”

 “Definitely.”

 Grace sighed. “Mr. Wellington—”

 “Fred,” he corrected.

“Fred.” She really did like him. He didn’t give off the air of sleaziness that so many in this town did. “I plan to do my job to the best of my abilities. Believe me.”

 And it was the truth. Even though she despised the reason for being placed in this role, she never shirked her responsibilities. She worked hard and took pleasure in hard work. Life was hard, too, but it could have been harder if she didn’t have such a strong ethic. Sometimes, though, it was a lot to handle all at once. By tomorrow morning, after having some time to cool down and re-center herself, she had little doubt she would perform admirably.

 Fred smiled again, looking her over, from feet to head, but it wasn’t in the smarmy way Dave had done in the office. This appraisal was one of measurement—measuring everything about her that wasn’t physical, if he could do such a thing by judging her exterior. “Have you had a chance to meet Dany Garcia, yet? She’s Henry’s business manager.”

 “Unfortunately, no,” she said.

 “But you have heard of her before today?”

 “Oh, yeah,” Grace replied with a nod. Dany was Dwayne Johnson’s ex and his wildly successful business partner with her own powerful management firm. “Who hasn’t? She’s created an empire.”

 “That she has,” Fred said. “You remind me of her. You have the same chutzpah. I think when you meet her and the team, you’ll hit it off. She didn’t come today because she can’t stand Dave, so she asked me to do the dirty work.”

 Grace laughed at his explanation. “I’m sorry you had to deal with it, too.”

 The man shrugged and stepped closer to her as though they were conspiring on some great plot. “Play your cards right, and I’ll make sure Dany finds a position for you on her team after the tour.”

 “Are you serious?”

 “As a heart attack.” He grinned and reached into his suit coat for a business card. Then he offered it to her. “If you need anything at all, please call my direct line. They have the dossier and all your information inside, but someone from Dany’s office will meet you at Henry’s tomorrow morning.”

 Grace looked at the card and ran her finger over the raised lettering and expensive linen cardstock. She looked up and offered her hand again. “Thank you, Fred.”

 “No problem, Grace,” he said and stepped away from her, toward the sidewalk that would lead him to the parking lot. “Remember, I’ll be watching you.”

 She saluted him as he strode away. He drove off in a shiny Mercedes. Finally, she sighed and looked at the watch on her wrist. “I guess break’s over.”

 At least, she thought as she opened the door into her office, the afternoon wasn’t a total waste. It was enough to get her back to her computer to close shop for the foreseeable future. The only problem left was breaking it to Eli that she wasn’t going to be around as much.

[immuskaan]

Best scanning software of 2018

Making your paperwork light and efficient

BEST SCANNING SOFTWARE 1. Abbyy FineReader 2. Adobe Acrobat 3. OmniPage Standard 4. Docufree 5. Readiris Read on for our detailed analysis of each app The photocopying machine: that chunky, clunky, problem-fraught tower of plastic, is slowly losing its status as the office centerpiece. Poly-functional (and more reliable) printers have played their part in displacing this staple of the business world, but so too have software services that can take care of scanning, copying and so much more. The opportunity to reduce paperwork and increase productivity has created a sizeable market for tools of this nature, and with so many proliferating in recent years, we’ve rounded up the best of the bunch to help you choose which would be most suitable for your organization. From powerful, enterprise-focused Adobe platforms to pick-up services perfect for small businesses, check out the very best of the document scanning and converting world below. We've also highlighted the best document management software of 2018 1. Abbyy FineReader An excellent OCR tool

ABBYY FineReader Pro for Mac

$119.99

ABBYY FineReader 14 Standard

$199.99

ABBYY FineReader 14 Corporate

$399.99

?VISITSITE

(+)Simple to a use (+)Includes tool for batch processing (+)Supports 192 languages Abbyy is responsible for a number of enterprise-oriented software tools and among them is its platform for document scanning, FineReader, enabling you to edit, review, protect, compare and convert PDFs and scans. The editing feature allows you to comment and annotate your PDF, making it perfect for collaboration. Compare, meanwhile, helps you identify text changes between different versions of the same document, saving time on proof-reading and back-checking. FineReader calls its OCR (optical character recognition) technology ‘world-leading’ no less, promising accurate conversion of paper documents, scans and PDFs to Word, Excel, searchable PDFs, and other file formats.

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If you’re dealing with scanning on a large scale, the Hot Folder feature is on hand to help schedule batch processing and track documents for conversion with ���watched’ folders. FineReader can recognize a whopping 192 languages, so you should be covered no matter where your documents are coming from. Prices start at $118.30 (£88) per year. You can download Abbyy FineReader here 2. Adobe Acrobat A powerful tool from the software behemoth

(+)Extensive range of tools and capabilities (+)Lots of integrations (-)Pricey If there’s a software company that knows how to handle a document or two, it’s Adobe, and when it comes to PDFs, you’re in safe hands with Acrobat. The platform allows you to create PDFs from just about everywhere: Microsoft Office applications, the camera of your phone, HTML pages, and even from disparate emails, spreadsheets and documents which can be merged and organized into a simple PDF file. Key features include passwords and permission for added security, standardized templates to keep your documents consistent in style, the ability to edit and annotate both normal text and data in tables, a comparing tool to identify differences between different versions of the document, and ‘reverse’ conversions from PDF to Word, Excel and PowerPoint.   Storing all these converted files is made easier too, thanks to integrations with Dropbox, OneDrive and Box.

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With Adobe Acrobat, scanning your document really is just the beginning, but the caveat with this platform, like so many Adobe tools, is that it doesn’t come cheap. For businesses, prices start at $14.99 (£11) per person per month. You can download Adobe Acrobat here 3. OmniPage Standard Copy complete documents with ease

(+)High-quality scans and conversions (+)Easy to use on the move (-)Lots of integrations Another key player on the enterprise productivity scene is Nuance, and which brings its scanning tech to the market via OmniPage Standard. OmniPage Standard’s OCR technology takes care of scanning all types of documents in quick and efficient fashion, “enabling you to focus on more rewarding tasks”, it says. Anyone who’s ever had to type up a whole document to make it ‘digitally’ usable will know where they’re coming from. The platform promises high-quality conversions that maintain the features of the original document – columns, tables, bullets, graphics and all. It also supports a wide range of editing platforms, including Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Corel, Wordperfect, and Nuance’s own Power PDF tool. Conveniently, OmniPage can process via a whole range of devices that capture text as an image, so if your phone, tablet or camera is at hand, you can scan, convert and manage your files on the move. This accomplished scanning all-rounder will set you back $149.99 (£112). You can download OmniPage Standard here 4. Docufree The pick-up and delivery guys who do the scanning for you

(+)(+)Relieves paperwork for document-heavy firms The reasonable, simple pricing model (-)Users are unable to scan themselves Docufree works a little differently from the scanning services we’ve seen so far by physically picking up the documents you want to scan and taking care of the dirty work for you. How exactly does it work? You place the documents you want to be scanned in a box, which the Docufree team picks up and takes to their conversion center. Here, they prepare and scan the docs to PDFs and TTFS, perform OCR character recognition if needed, and store the converted files digitally and online for you. They’ll return the original documents if requested or shred them for you, offering the attractive option of removing endless boxes of paperwork. If you’re inundated with documents each day, you can opt for the day-forward scanning service where Docufree collects your documents as they arrive in the post each day. Users can also take advantage of the free online account that comes with the service, allowing you to access and review documents as they’re converted and track the status of a scanning project. With Docufree you pay by the box which has a fixed price no matter the number of documents. Follow the link below to get a quote. You can sign up for Docufree here 5. Readiris Copy, convert and edit your documents

(+)Useful collaboration features (+)Option to convert to audio (+)Affordable

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Now on version 17, Readiris is a scanning tool that captures and converts your documents to editable files thanks to its OCR technology. The service enables you to convert PDFs, pictures and texts from an image or scanned doc into Word, Excel, Powerpoint or an indexed PDF. Keeping pace with its higher-level  competitors, Readiris also allows you to annotate files and make comments, making the platform suitable for collaboration in the process of scanning and converting. Its audio capabilities are pretty handy too, as documents and books can be converted into MP3 and Wav files, enabling you to digest texts without even having to read them. You can record voice comments too, removing the reading and writing process of editing altogether if preferred. Readiris 17 comes in three packages, with a $50 (£37) service at the lowest end of the scale and Readiris Corporate 17 at the top, priced at $199 (£148). You can download Readiris here Best of the rest Sounding like a pretty fun if slightly nerdy Nintendo game, Data Dash operates in the same manner as Docufree, picking up or receiving your files in the mail then digitising them as you wish, with a reported 99.5% accuracy. Claiming to be the “first fully functional online PDF solution”, Soda PDF is a very comprehensive service, enabling you to create PDFs from more than 300 file formats, convert to various file types, edit and annotate files, create custom forms, and send and track contracts for electronic signature. ScanSpeeder, meanwhile, specializes in photos, allowing you to bring your precious prints into the digital world. Start with your own flatbed scanner than allow ScanSpeeder to sort, archive and safely store.

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VueScan is on a mission to save old scanners by creating drivers for aging machines so you can keep using the scanner you have. No more throwing hardware away when manufacturers stop releasing drivers! Focusing on mobile scanning, CamScanner allows your iPhone or Android device to scan, enhance and share documents with just a few taps of your phone. It also includes many of the editing and annotation features of its desktop counterparts listed above. SOURCE:

from Blogger http://bit.ly/2sl7bHz via

Making your paperwork light and efficient

BEST SCANNING SOFTWARE 1. Abbyy FineReader 2. Adobe Acrobat 3. OmniPage Standard 4. Docufree 5. Readiris Read on for our detailed analysis of each app The photocopying machine: that chunky, clunky, problem-fraught tower of plastic, is slowly losing its status as the office centerpiece. Poly-functional (and more reliable) printers have played their part in displacing this staple of the business world, but so too have software services that can take care of scanning, copying and so much more. The opportunity to reduce paperwork and increase productivity has created a sizeable market for tools of this nature, and with so many proliferating in recent years, we’ve rounded up the best of the bunch to help you choose which would be most suitable for your organization. From powerful, enterprise-focused Adobe platforms to pick-up services perfect for small businesses, check out the very best of the document scanning and converting world below. We've also highlighted the best document management software of 2018 1. Abbyy FineReader An excellent OCR tool

ABBYY FineReader Pro for Mac

$119.99

ABBYY FineReader 14 Standard

$199.99

ABBYY FineReader 14 Corporate

$399.99

?VISITSITE

(+)Simple to a use (+)Includes tool for batch processing (+)Supports 192 languages Abbyy is responsible for a number of enterprise-oriented software tools and among them is its platform for document scanning, FineReader, enabling you to edit, review, protect, compare and convert PDFs and scans. The editing feature allows you to comment and annotate your PDF, making it perfect for collaboration. Compare, meanwhile, helps you identify text changes between different versions of the same document, saving time on proof-reading and back-checking. FineReader calls its OCR (optical character recognition) technology ‘world-leading’ no less, promising accurate conversion of paper documents, scans and PDFs to Word, Excel, searchable PDFs, and other file formats.

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

If you’re dealing with scanning on a large scale, the Hot Folder feature is on hand to help schedule batch processing and track documents for conversion with ‘watched’ folders. FineReader can recognize a whopping 192 languages, so you should be covered no matter where your documents are coming from. Prices start at $118.30 (£88) per year. You can download Abbyy FineReader here 2. Adobe Acrobat A powerful tool from the software behemoth

(+)Extensive range of tools and capabilities (+)Lots of integrations (-)Pricey If there’s a software company that knows how to handle a document or two, it’s Adobe, and when it comes to PDFs, you’re in safe hands with Acrobat. The platform allows you to create PDFs from just about everywhere: Microsoft Office applications, the camera of your phone, HTML pages, and even from disparate emails, spreadsheets and documents which can be merged and organized into a simple PDF file. Key features include passwords and permission for added security, standardized templates to keep your documents consistent in style, the ability to edit and annotate both normal text and data in tables, a comparing tool to identify differences between different versions of the document, and ‘reverse’ conversions from PDF to Word, Excel and PowerPoint.   Storing all these converted files is made easier too, thanks to integrations with Dropbox, OneDrive and Box.

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

With Adobe Acrobat, scanning your document really is just the beginning, but the caveat with this platform, like so many Adobe tools, is that it doesn’t come cheap. For businesses, prices start at $14.99 (£11) per person per month. You can download Adobe Acrobat here 3. OmniPage Standard Copy complete documents with ease

(+)High-quality scans and conversions (+)Easy to use on the move (-)Lots of integrations Another key player on the enterprise productivity scene is Nuance, and which brings its scanning tech to the market via OmniPage Standard. OmniPage Standard’s OCR technology takes care of scanning all types of documents in quick and efficient fashion, “enabling you to focus on more rewarding tasks”, it says. Anyone who’s ever had to type up a whole document to make it ‘digitally’ usable will know where they’re coming from. The platform promises high-quality conversions that maintain the features of the original document – columns, tables, bullets, graphics and all. It also supports a wide range of editing platforms, including Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Corel, Wordperfect, and Nuance’s own Power PDF tool. Conveniently, OmniPage can process via a whole range of devices that capture text as an image, so if your phone, tablet or camera is at hand, you can scan, convert and manage your files on the move. This accomplished scanning all-rounder will set you back $149.99 (£112). You can download OmniPage Standard here 4. Docufree The pick-up and delivery guys who do the scanning for you

(+)(+)Relieves paperwork for document-heavy firms The reasonable, simple pricing model (-)Users are unable to scan themselves Docufree works a little differently from the scanning services we’ve seen so far by physically picking up the documents you want to scan and taking care of the dirty work for you. How exactly does it work? You place the documents you want to be scanned in a box, which the Docufree team picks up and takes to their conversion center. Here, they prepare and scan the docs to PDFs and TTFS, perform OCR character recognition if needed, and store the converted files digitally and online for you. They’ll return the original documents if requested or shred them for you, offering the attractive option of removing endless boxes of paperwork. If you’re inundated with documents each day, you can opt for the day-forward scanning service where Docufree collects your documents as they arrive in the post each day. Users can also take advantage of the free online account that comes with the service, allowing you to access and review documents as they’re converted and track the status of a scanning project. With Docufree you pay by the box which has a fixed price no matter the number of documents. Follow the link below to get a quote. You can sign up for Docufree here 5. Readiris Copy, convert and edit your documents

(+)Useful collaboration features (+)Option to convert to audio (+)Affordable

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

Now on version 17, Readiris is a scanning tool that captures and converts your documents to editable files thanks to its OCR technology. The service enables you to convert PDFs, pictures and texts from an image or scanned doc into Word, Excel, Powerpoint or an indexed PDF. Keeping pace with its higher-level  competitors, Readiris also allows you to annotate files and make comments, making the platform suitable for collaboration in the process of scanning and converting. Its audio capabilities are pretty handy too, as documents and books can be converted into MP3 and Wav files, enabling you to digest texts without even having to read them. You can record voice comments too, removing the reading and writing process of editing altogether if preferred. Readiris 17 comes in three packages, with a $50 (£37) service at the lowest end of the scale and Readiris Corporate 17 at the top, priced at $199 (£148). You can download Readiris here Best of the rest Sounding like a pretty fun if slightly nerdy Nintendo game, Data Dash operates in the same manner as Docufree, picking up or receiving your files in the mail then digitising them as you wish, with a reported 99.5% accuracy. Claiming to be the “first fully functional online PDF solution”, Soda PDF is a very comprehensive service, enabling you to create PDFs from more than 300 file formats, convert to various file types, edit and annotate files, create custom forms, and send and track contracts for electronic signature. ScanSpeeder, meanwhile, specializes in photos, allowing you to bring your precious prints into the digital world. Start with your own flatbed scanner than allow ScanSpeeder to sort, archive and safely store.

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

VueScan is on a mission to save old scanners by creating drivers for aging machines so you can keep using the scanner you have. No more throwing hardware away when manufacturers stop releasing drivers! Focusing on mobile scanning, CamScanner allows your iPhone or Android device to scan, enhance and share documents with just a few taps of your phone. It also includes many of the editing and annotation features of its desktop counterparts listed above. SOURCE: