#broadcast from the corporation ✧.. ooc

[wickedlittlepuppy]

✧.. I forgot to post these here last night but hehe Puppy and then Literally A Dog AU N + a bonus of Cat Uzi

[corpsecmd]

The queue for this blog is set up. I'm once again thanking everyone for their patience. I honestly didn't expect to be as inconvenienced by coughing as I was these past few days. I go back to work tomorrow (capitalism yippee /s) but as I fall back into a routine, I'll make an attempt to get owed things done.

[bundoesnotcompete]

A quick snack of a story. Aventurine may be a bit OOC and I apologise. Not prood read and no warnings. Roughly 1600 words.

Summary: A first meeting between two gamblers with divine luck. Both catch each other's interest

"The discovery of the civilization of the Terra system had opened new maps of exploration. While things are rather hostile and tense at the moment, the IPC and the Banking Society of Terra have begun talks of ceasefire and possible trade agreements. Not much is known about this large civilization, like how far they expand and what resources they have. However if talks go well with the Banking Society, we could see a whole side of the universe we have never seen.

The Ten cornerstones are set to meet ten of the thirteen high commissioners of the Banking Society within hours of this broadcast. We have Professional…."

-Excerpt of the Interastral Economy Broadcast

When the people of the outerlands had first been discovered, you were quickly informed. Life existing outside of the known universe was a big deal, and as one of the thirteen leaders of the biggest corporation in your entire galaxy, you were to be informed of big discoveries like that. Of course, hostilities were quick to break out between the two sides. The advance technology of your civilization held the enemy back and even took some territory.

The First of the Thirteen saw an opportunity. If peace was to be made, then perhaps your universe could gain more then they would recieve through battle. Thus, a treaty was sent to the so called Interastral Peace Corporation. A meeting on neutral territory was arranged for ten of the thirteen leaders. Every one of you would be on diffrent planets on neutral territory.

As Third of the Thirteen, you were to meet the one called Aventurine. Rumor was that he was a gambler much like you were. With luck to match yours, you wondered how this meeting would go. You did make bargains based on someone's gambling skills. You have never encountered someone with your type of luck in all of the years you have lived. No being in your galaxy could get away with the things you have from just luck alone. Excitement filled your veins.

You donned your nicest clothes for this meeting. The casino you were to meet in was the best on this backwater planet you were to meet on. Thick clothes and cloak ruffled as you entered the Casino from the cold outside. Glittering lights and machines were abundant in this casino. The tables were filled with people. Whether they were here to gamble or to see the exotic people metting here, it did not matter to you. What you truly wanted was upstairs.

The plush carpet under your heeled boots crumpled as you made your way upstairs. As you played with a emerald coin in your hand, your guards shuffled close to you. They came closer as you approached the doors to the meeting room. Opening the large gold doors, you quickly spotted him. Aventurine sat at one of the tables in the front of the area. Diplomats from both sides quietly tucked away in their respective corners. Your diplomats knew better than to talk with the enemy until you arrived.

Your heels clicked against the wooden floors as you quickly approached him. He gazed to you as you approached. Taking a seat in front of him, you waved off your guards with a gloved hand. The coin you were playing with found its way on the table.

"You must be Aventurine. You likely already know me but I will be polite and introduce myself. I am refered to as Blackjack by my people." You started as you leaned back on the seat. You studied him. He was rather handsome. His clothing was odd to you and it reminded you of a peafowl. Blond hair and exotic eyes were another intresting trait of his. You did not know that the Outlanders had multitoned eyes like your people often did. It was a shame he was wearing glasses that covered them.

"You read the treaty we sent, yes?" You asked.

"That's why I'm here." He sounded confident. You knew this was going to be intresting. You summoned a paper from the subspace where you kept your weapon. You slid it across the table to him.

"This is my part of the agreement. If we cannot agree on a part of this agreement, we play a gambling game. Whoever wins gets to keep their part of the agreement and we move on. To keep things fair, I've taken the liberty of studying games from your part of the universe. We play alternating games since many of your universes games are similar to ours, like poker and baccarat. Do you agree to this?" He didn't have a choice but to agree to your terms, though he did not know that. The smile on his face was dangerous, you had caught his interest.

"Of course, let us begin negotiations."

Game after game was played. More often then not they kept ending draws. You didn't even know it was possible for some of these games to end in draws. There were fifteen sections in your part of the treaty agreement. So far, he had won seven and you had won seven. Even though you would lose, the thrill from losing naturally to such a pretty man was well worth it in your eyes. It's not like his rewrites were unfair to either side, so it was no big loss.

At some point, diplomats from both sides had begun to watch the final game be played. Both you were satisfied with the final section of the treaty, but still gambled for the sheer joy of it. Poker was the final game. Both of you were cheating. The poor youkai serving as the house was beginning to look more stressed and interested as time went on. It was a battle of two people with insane luck.

The entirity of the room was gathered around the table. All watching with intense eyes.

"All In." You spoke as you moved all your chips into the center. He smirked as he met your all in with one of his own. You heard one of your guards behind you take a tense breath in and hold it. The cards were revealed. You had lost by a single card. The room broke out into excitement and you gave a smile to the man in front of you. The nearby people were returning to their original spots away from the table.

"It appears you won pretty boy." You summoned the newly made treaty piece and held it between your fingers. "Shall we sign?" You stood and went to his side of the table and slid the paper to him. You summoned a pen and handed it to him as he read the treay in front of him.

"If you don't mind," you leaned closer to him and whispered to him, "we still have another day to negotiate. I'd like to play more games. The prizes can be decided later. How about it?" You watched intently as he signed the paper. He handed the paper back to you and you signed the paper. "Copy boy, Come make a copy of this for me." You called to your guard and he quickly came and used his abilities to copy the treaty before being shooed off.

Aventurine had stood up by the time you handed his copy of the treaty to him. His confident smirk gave his answer away.

"I won't say no, how about we meet here after lunch tomorrow?" He held put his hand for you to shake it. You took it and spoke.

"It's a deal. It is late though, so I will be leaving." You let go of his hand and began to leave. "Enjoy your night, handsome." You waved as you left. Aventurine merely watched as you left

----

Later that night, The Ten Cornerstones held a meeting. All attending virtually to discuss how things went. Though, it would be a bit odd with all of them attending from either rooms in their ships or hotel rooms.

"The Sixth wouldn't budge. We are to reconvene in the morning to continue negotiations." Topaz finished giving her statement. It appears things had gone poorly on all sides except Aventurine's.

"I have my piece of the treaty here. It appears I'm the only one who managed to secure the side of the deal tonight." Aventurine spoke, much to the displeasure of some of the cornerstones. The bridge he had managed to build before the others would look good. The meeting was quick to turn to the treaty that he had secured.

Aventurine would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in you. Your taunting but excited face when you both gambled for the sections of the treaty stayed with him. Even as you lost, you kept smiling. When he played with you, it was like his luck wasn't even there to begin with. It was truly a fair setup.

The rumors of your luck had been true. That was the only explanation for why things had been so evenly matched.

You were pretty too, so losing didn't hurt so much when you were both pretty and had rather fair sections of the the treaty. It was the most fun he has had in a long time, even if you were both cheating.

Yes, Aventurine was looking foward to tommorow. Perhaps he could build that bridge even more by getting closer to you.

[wonderfulworldofwondertainment]

Yee)

OOC: Okay, here you go: (This list's contents are visible to Muses)

Ms. Advice has an eidetic memory, as well as the ability to have a few hundred thought processes at once. If she tries really hard, she can read minds.

Ms. Lock can force otherwise random things to conform to a pattern. She's also really good at coming up with ways to prevent chaotic and dangerous events.

Mr. Lost is unable to be brought anywhere consciously, but if followed, will lead someone to where they need to be. The reason the Foundation lost so many people trying to contain him is because most of them, for their own sake, needed to be outside the Foundation

Mr. Bluee emits an aura that induces calm in others. It can dull pain and relieve anxiety. Unfortunately, it's not permanent.

Mr. Type's body is partially mechanical, with a large portion of his chest dedicated to a typewriter-like mechanism. When attempts to speak, his words are instead typed out by the mechanism. As this happens, his glasses gradually slip down his face, and when he pushes them back up, the system cycles to the next line.

Mr. Studio can control broadcast signals, such as radio and television. He has a screen on his chest that displays things that he thinks about. His voice sounds like it's coming from an old megaphone, and he speaks in a Transatlantic accent.

Ms. Fluff can assume the traits and abilities of creatures she interacts with, as well as being able to speak to them regardless of language barrier (This includes human languages). Additionally, animals that interact with her almost never act aggressively, regardless of how dangerous the creature is under normal circumstances.

Ms. Flowers can cause plants to grow immediately, or heal plants of parasites or other afflictions through touch. She can also "talk" to them, even going as far as asking weeds to move, which they do shortly afterwards.

Mr. Corporate is tied to the whole "No MC&D" thing. Whenever one of the misters disappear, he appears nearby, attempting to approach them. If he were to reach them before they left the area, he'd present them with a massive contract detailing what MC&D would have to do in order to be allowed to meet with that specific mister for a total of 5 minutes. This contract is needlessly complicated and totally one-sided. He also reads it in a voice akin to that of Ben Stein.

Mx. Sketch is able to create drawings of just about anything, including things that don't/can't exist and events of which they have no knowledge. They are also mute.

Mr. Narrator is able to perceive and announce any and all events surrounding anyone connected to Dr. Wondertainment. His voice is projected as such to, well, anyone reading the blog. He sounds like the narrator from the Stanley Parable and is also on of the only misters to not have rainbow eyes.

Mr. Anon (formerly Ms. Anon) has all the abilities of the anons on Tumblr, including the powers of M!A. This, of course, leaves him massively disjointed and chaotic. He's also able to appear basically anywhere. Whenever an ask gets received by someone on this blog, he appears from nowhere to ask it.

Mrs. Wonder is an alternate version of Dr. Wondertainment, and thus has all of his abilities.

There are more to come, don't worry.

[etherealvoidechoes]

Borderlands AU - Welcome Back, Handsome Jack  - Chapter 1: To What's Left Undone...

It had barely been a year since the Vault Hunters and Crimson Raiders had killed Handsome Jack. Though they had chopped the head of the mad snake off — if not obliterated it —, Hyperion was still functioning, if not dysfunctional, which was the norm for most corporations in the six galaxies. And Helios Station loomed high over Pandora, monitoring all things; mainly Hyperion and their lucrative Eridium mining operations.

Mr. Blake found himself trusted in a new position, one he was half expecting with how Jack’s quest was going. The man was doing his best to undo his former boss’ work and get Hyperion back on track to its old self. But those Vault Hunters and Crimson Raiders were still being nuisances, understandably wanting to destroy anything associated with Jack, but he was thinking of solutions to get them to back off completely to stop the damage to corporate property and immense profit-loss.

But the man would be in for a shock one day as he was going over reports. A shock that would change everything.

Okay, finally done with chapter one after some edits.This is gonna be a 4-parter or so. Kinda “establishing” Jack coming back to life and whatnot and kinda gauging myself if I’ll do a full blow fic to make a story with him fully getting back in action to take revenge. Which only means I really need to play/watch TFTB.

Ao3 Link - Which may be more preferable to get certain formatting I’ve done with some parts.

Warning tags below. 

There will be more tags to come as I work on the next chapters. And sorry for any bit of ooc/inaccuracies(though later on for Jack, that’s the eridium poisoning driving him insane.) Been awhile since I’ve played 1&2.

----

Helios Station. That colossal Hyperion moonbase, styled in the stamp of an “H”, orbiting high above Elpis , and its gaze loomed over Pandora.

The station was still fully operational after Handsome Jack’s death. One could say business had increased after the madman’s death. Hyperion wanted to keep a tight grip on their Eridium mining operations taking place on the lawless backwater planet below; something that made them quite rich and gave them an edge against the other corporations because of eridium’s properties and the many technological advancements they had made. Hyperion had also evacuated its most valued and critical employees from Pandora, leaving a few “lucky” overseers and workers for the mining operations and a sizable military force as protection. Which was needed. Bandits were still insane and wouldn’t hesitate to attack their mining sites for anything valuable… or just pure wanton destruction; defacing every surface with the mutilated bodies of their victims, crude art, and other questionable things.

And then there were those Crimson Raiders and their Vault Hunter buddies. They still had a score to settle with Hyperion. They wanted to pay back every single ally, close friends, hell, even the innocent bystanders caught up in Jack’s megalomanic quest for “peace” with massive amounts of collateral damage and blood.

Despite some annoyances, operations on Pandora continued and part of the moonbase become a tourist attraction of sorts. Despite everything he had done, Handsome Jack had somehow cultivated a cult of personality of sorts amongst some in Hyperion, and then from those that caught his inane broadcasts to the six galaxies. The man did have an odd charm. A thinly disguised psychotic charm. Then again, the verbal and physical abuse he subjected his employees through broke them mentally in more ways than one… some consider him a god.

So, deluded fans of the megalomanic paid big bucks visit and for those more than willing to part with a huge chunk of change — and surprisingly there were a lot of gullible people — for VIP access could enter his office turned memorial. The little attraction brought in quite a pretty penny. And an odd form of amusement for some employees. There was always a running bet on how many entitled fans would get vaporized for trying to enter Jack’s office without authorization by the end of the week. Large amounts of money changed hands frequently with these ongoing bets.

So the station was quite functional, if not dysfunctional; much to Mr. Blake’s chagrin.

Mr. Blake… That devil-horned suit. A lot had been dropped onto his shoulders since Jack’s death. But he was expecting it. Sooner or later, someone would have killed the man and all responsibilities would be oh so gracefully shunted onto him.

Shortly after Jack’s death, the man became acting president of Hyperion. Nearly instantaneously, restructuring began. Partially to course correct many of Jack’s insane and wasteful plans to “civilize” Pandora, and then some bright-eyed employees wanted to climb that corporate ladder, find a more cushy spot in the hierarchy. There were many instances of various “accidental” deaths occurring on the station. The occasional airlock failure, food poisoning via allergic reactions, the Loader bots targeting systems malfunctioning, causing a few instances of people being gunned down, and the list goes on. A few even targeting Blake. But Blake somehow stayed on top and out of harm’s way. Seemed like he always had a contingency for everything.

Eventually, the death and turnover of station employees stabilized and slowly lowered once the restructuring was nearly complete.

Jack’s office became his. Despite it being used for those lucrative tours. After hours, he would put it to use. It could still act as the command center of the station and had the best computers there. It would be wasteful not to use them.

And it was another day — or night, can’t tell with space — that Mr. Blake was there. After hours, contemplating how to sort out Hyperion’s many, many troubles.

After hours, and the office was empty once more. Just the hum of electronics and hidden machinery kept the room from being dead quiet. Most of the lights were shut off. They rarely turned those soft blue lights illuminating the colossal busts of Handsome Jack off. But there was another calm source of light. Those reflected rays from Elpis, filtered in through the windows, kept the darkness from completely swallowing the room.

And standing by those windows, just behind the desk, was Jeffery Blake. That sharply dressed and lanky man was looking out those massive windows. Hands behind his back, his eyes were transfixed upon that red scar on the moon. 

How it all began… Well, one of the many ways it all began for Helios station and Hyperion’s operations on Pandora. Insured Jack’s descent into madness and rise as a power hungry tyrant. To think he was once a mostly humble programmer. Mostly…

A subdued scoff left Blake’s lips. Humble probably was not the best way to describe Jake back them, but he was a lot more pleasant to be around even with his off-and-on had an over an inflated sense of grandeur that would peek through as he ran the station.

“I wonder how things would be now if everything was handled differently… and if Jack had help for his… other… issues before everything else.”

The thought occasionally crossed Blake’s mind. Actually, crossed his mind many times as he was stuck working under Jack. The man had a lot of issues he hid well... at first. 

But Blake occasionally wondered, if the destruction of the “Eye of Helios” had been dealt with differently, where would Hyperion be now? Where would Jack be now? Truthfully, he viewed the betrayal by Moxxi, Roland, and Lilith to be quite reasonable. What in the world was Jack thinking building that thing? 

And to think that was one of the many drops in the pond — with a few being boulders — during that whole incident. A conga line of poor decisions for all involved, an ever-growing stress that kept all from thinking rationally. And that final nail in the coffin was when Lilith rammed that Vault relic into Jack’s face. Any last shred of sanity in that man snapped.

“Should have made sure that attack killed him. But the others were there with him. Guns at the ready. Her shields wouldn’t have lasted long.”

Still, he wondered… how would things be if Jack was killed then and there?

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past.

Blake’s eyes shifted away from Elpis.

“Let’s get down to business.”

A moment later, holographic screens appeared around him, surrounding him in a blue glow. His eyes fell upon them, shifting from panel to panel. Raising a hand to his face, he tapped his chin. He even turned his body as he looked at each panel.

An active tracker for Hyperion stocks caught his attention. Steady and rising. Then messages from the Share Holders and Board of Directors. The usual business asking about profit margins, how things were being run, and what not. 

His eyes narrowed as his bite the inside of his cheek. For a moment, he winced as he bit much harder than he expected. 

“Why…”

The “Handsome Jackpot”. A name he had some to loathe. There were so many messages concerning that scam of a casino Jack built. How many zillions of corporate money did that man invest in building that thing? Well, it did quickly pay out by draining those “lucky” patrons that went there. And now those patrons and so many others were trapped in that death trap of a casino as soon as Jack died. Why did he program the place to lockdown in the case of his untimely death?

“Megalomaniac…” Blake shook his head as he read the reports.

All rescue efforts were going poorly. The top-notch security to the station quickly obliterated all attempts to leave the station, no matter what was tried. But the casino was more than welcoming to trap any and all newcomers. Fixing the issue was getting pushed to the back-burner until they could disable the security measures.

   His eyes then shifted to a screen containing the ECHOnet news concerning all things on Pandora. It was the same old same old bandit madness, peppered with the escapades of the Vault Hunters. Speaking of Vault Hunters… them and the Crimson Raiders… he needed to figure out a way to sate their bloodlust. They were making good on their promise to destroy all things Hyperion. A few things Blake didn’t mind being destroyed, a few things he could ignore and write off like Opportunity and the Wildlife Exploitation Preserve. 

“Opportunity…” A snort came out, followed by a chuckle. Another crazy plan of Jack’s. He wondered who would even move there with all the questionable laws, but then he thought of the fanatics that attended the tours on the station. There’s always a gullible person out there. For now, the construction of the settlement continued to not be an entirely wasted venture. It became the perfect place to house all those “lucky” workers who ran the mines.

Mines… Those Eridium mining operations. Blake’s eyes shifted to another planet. There was something he couldn’t ignore forever. The Crimson Raiders and Vault Hunters’ ongoing attacks were bitting into Hyperion’s profit margins. The Board didn’t like that too much and wanted the nuisances completely wiped out. 

A disgruntled hiss slipped from his lips thinking about those meetings.

Blake knew that would be a tall order. They had just waged war against Hyperion a while back and had won. He was in no mood to wage war against them again. There was a strong chance a second war could end with Hyperion having to completely abandon Pandora. There had been discoveries of eridium on other planets, but not in the abundantly vast quantities found on Pandora. It would be too great of a risk to strike another war.

“Maybe I can see if I can broker a deal with them if Lilith is willing to listen.” Blake muttered to himself. “Though I’ve heard she’s had a few Hunters capture some Hyperion spies for interrogation. Heard they’re determined to take out the ‘eyesore in the sky’.”

And in response, they had increased security on Helios. Again.

Blake toyed with the idea in his mind from time to time. He had decent professional relations with Lilith and her cohorts years ago, cleaning up the “Claptrap Revolution” mess. But who knew where his standing with them was now after everything with Jack.

He shook his head. It was a thought. A thought that needed to take shape and become action sooner rather than later. Just a little more planning out all the details and maybe a deal could be struck.

His eyes drifted back and forth between the panels as he thought of how to respond to messages here and there, and then giving out orders on how some operations should be handled. Until something caught his attention.

A buzzing rumble at first before a pinging rattle against metal. Blake glanced over at the desk and down. It was his phone, a yellow screen flashing as it vibrated across the desk. Odd. He didn’t remember setting the vibration that strong. 

“Hm.”

Those holo-screens flickered out one by one, blue glow disappearing , before he walked over to the desk. He looked down again and at the screen.

Hidden Caller: 

>ACCEPT || >DECLINE

“Hm…” Oddly strong vibrations. And there was a pattern to it that repeated a few times.

-... .-. --- -.- . -. / ..-. .- -.-. .- -.. .  / -... .-. --- -.- . -. / ..-. .- -.-. .- -.. .

“Hm.” He tapped his chin. Was it? He shook his head. Only one way to find out. He reached over to the phone, picked up the earpiece, and put it in his ear as he answered the call.

“Hello?”

A series of electronic pings and screeches quickly greeted his ear. Head jerking to the side, he gritted his teeth as it went on for over a minute. Then there was silence. He took in a breath.

“The Golden Age.” He uttered those words. A pause. More silence for just a moment and more of the screeches came through before slowly transitioning over to a voice. A heavily distorted voice. “Ah, you. Wondered when you would call again.” A smile crossed his face. Just the contact he wanted to hear from again. “Where did we last leave off?”

Blake paced back and forth; holo-screens flickered back into existence and kept pace with him. The conversation focused on the ongoing problems on Pandora. Specifically, the activities of the Crimson Raiders. They had info to share on what they were up to and where some of the Vault Hunters were. Off hunting those closely associated with Handsome Jack, even if for a short time, for interrogation.

So, ideas were being tossed around on how to negotiate a truce that would bring the least amount of profit-loss and bloodshed.

Buy them off? Did they even care about money that much to give up their vendetta?

Give them an exorbitant amount of guns? Couldn’t go wrong with that, since they had to deal with those crazed bandits. But… but that could so easily backfire in Hyperion’s face. There were those confirmed rumors the Crimson Raiders were planning on assaulting Helios station.

Perhaps place some bounties on them or amass an army to wipe them out? Wait… how did that go for Handsome Jack again? That option stayed at the bottom of the list.

So ideas continued to be tossed out and mused upon.

Blake’s pacing slowed as he passed by the desk, before anger flashed over his face. One moment his right hand was swiping through some messages and then the next it came down hard onto the desk, making a slighty loud thud. 

“That’s the last thing we want!” His voice was just below a shout. A moment later, he winced, quickly rubbing his wrist. A robust metal desk, topped with finely carved wood panelling imported from Eden-6 did not play well with weak wrists.

The voice on the other end laughed, rattling off a few things. He rolled his eyes. Then shifted them to a panel that showed multiple views of Pandora from space. That massive eridium rift, a vibrant purple glowing scar that stretched across one side of the planet. Amazing how it appeared so suddenly after the defeat of the Destroyer years ago.

As he continued to listen, Blake narrowed his eyes. “I don’t find that funny. Operations will not be abandoned or destroyed in a bait and switch to get rid of them.”

He then pressed a few buttons on the keyboard on the desk, activating some holo-screens, and transferred what he was doing over to them.

“Now less joking. Tell me what you know about their latest plans. Heard they recently grabbed a technician from the station that was recalibrating a moonshot beacon a short while ago.” He brought up the profile of said technician. Someone low on the food chain, but that’s all it could take to start a fire. 

His contact gave him the details, and he made notes and remarks. Looks like they were going to have to increase security again and update some security codes… again.

Soon, Blake was sending out orders concerning the much needed updates. And to increase security of the important workers down on Pandora.

As he continued to work and talk, a barely audible whirring sound came from the desk.

On the left, towards the edge, panels shifted, sections pulling away from the sides as something rose; a slim, rectangular column. It looked inconspicuous. Just a dark gray plinth, barely anything about it looked interesting. As is rose, flaps unfolded from the side, revealing the hidden magic within. Several lenses one could find on those major Fast-Travel hubs.

That whirring increased as those lenses lit up blue until a solid hum took over.

A new holo-panel appeared by the ones Blake was working it. 

EXECUTING:  NO ONE LIVES FOREVER… EXCEPT ME.

It went unnoticed. 

That hum grew louder. Holographic streams of pixels and particles swirled around the lenses before several lines of light were projected out, making an outline. Quickly, a silhouette began to take shape. The blue glow grew brighter as more streams of pixels and particles appeared and swirled towards the shape as those familiar electronic swirling sounds of a digistructing(or teleporting) item or person filled the room.

Line by line, a body was coming through, being built block by block. A body that twitched and dripped blood.

Blake’s nose wrinkled. There was a strong sulfur smell biting at his nose, making his eyes water, peppered with the smell of burnt clothes and flesh. Human flesh. A smell he could never forget after spending some time down on Pandora. At least it wasn’t rotting and mixed smell of Skag piss. Ugh bandits…

“What the hell…?” He muttered, taking a moment to wipe his nose. “Is the maintenance crew working in the ventilation again? Someone lose grip on their torch or touch a loose wire?”

The digistruct sounds grew in intensity and a few flashes of bright light occurred.

“Huh?” That finally caught this attention. He looked up. A brow raised. Those typing fingers froze. “What in the world?”

Who? What? How?

He looked down to the source, that hidden plinth inside of the desk. When was that there? Then again, even Jack had his secrets.

Backing away from the desk, holo-panels quickly closing, he grab his phone and sent a message to security. This person had to be an idiot to transport themselves in here. But why the smell of sulfur and burning flesh?

“Hm?” Blake’s eyes shifted towards his ear piece. The voice was still talking. “No… something’s come up. Unexpected guest. We can still talk before security arrives.” He moved to the right side of the desk, giving the digistructing body a wide berth, but was curious to see who this bold, idiotic person was. 

The lower half was fully digistructed and the upper half was slowly coming in piece by piece. But with what was there, they were riddled with bullets, burns, and slashes that had to come from a Buzzaxe. Clothes were absolutely ripped to shreds, and all those wounds were bleeding. A massive chunk of the person’s left thigh was missing. And there was fresh crimson running down said leg. 

Blake wrinkled his nose. A hard swallow soon followed, chasing down a growing burn in the back of his throat. A hand soon covered his mouth. Needed to add the clean-up crew to that security call he made. Didn’t need that blood staining that expensive wood flooring.

“Hm.” Blake muttered. Something about those pants looked oddly familiar. Something about that silhouette was familiar. Especially those shaking laser lines around the hair. Swept back, faded slightly on the sides, with a few arched locks. Where had he seen that last?

Security was taking forever to arrive, but Blake kept watching, just entranced by the morbid sight. Until something in his mind clicked. “Wait…” His head quickly spun around and fell onto one of those gaudy statues of Jack that lead to the desk.

“What… no…” He looked back at the digistructing body. The torso was nearly done now and was just as battered as the lower half. A few more chuckles of flesh were missing, making Blake question if this person would be alive when the digistruct ended. The clothes were ripped and riddle with bullet holes, but were still recognizable. 

“No… no… no…” 

Something was clicking. Troubling things were clicking in his mind as his eyes focused on the clothes.. That gray suit jacket, brown vest, white dress shirt, and yellow shirt underneath. What remained of those blue tattoos on the right wrist as part of the skin of the arm was charred black, with a deep divot of flesh and muscle missing from the forearm. And then were a few rings he recognized.

“No… no… no.” Blake shook his head. He looked back at the desk and noticed there was still one holo-panel up. He went back to investigate.

NO ONE LIVES FOREVER… EXCEPT ME. 87.50% COMPLETE.

WARNING: MEDICAL INTERVENTION NEEDED ASAP. TRAUMA TEAM CONTACTED. ETA… ERROR…

MULTIPLE LACERATIONS DETECTED. HEAD TRAUMA DETECTED. BRAIN TRAUMA DETECTED HIGH BLOOD LOSS DETECTED. SECOND, THIRD, AND FOURTH DEGREE BURNS DETECTED. ERIDIUM POISONING DETECTED

“What the hell?” 

He expanded the panel to get more details. A series of panels appeared. His jaw nearly dropped. A profile image appeared. That smug face of Handsome Jack greeted his eyes. Then he saw the rest. Read the rest. Vital stats, walls of text listing every single last injury he had sustained and then some details on how this digistruct of a teleport was working… and then a concerning amount of error messages that were appearing.

Before he could even decipher what those where, something caught Blake’s eyes. Details of what this “NO ONE LIVES FOREVER…EXPECT ME” execution was. He dug deeper. A brow twitched; his face reflexively contorted in disgust as he read the file. Immortality. A harebrained idea implanted into Jack’s mind because of Professor Nakayama ages ago. A considerable amount of the company’s expenses were wasted in the venture of using Digistruct technology to copy one’s mind and build a new body with a ton of failures until one courageous soul was able to convince Jack it was pointless and was taking away precious resources from the Eridium experiments. He surprisingly conceded… after throwing them into an airlock and spacing them.

   “This is… impossible.” But Blake couldn’t believe what he was reading. What he was seeing. A functioning prototype for a mad grasp at immortality. He glanced back at Jack. That head was nearly done. He could see the remnants of those clamps that held Jack’s mask in place. This hinges broken, and the flesh around the edges was torn and bleeding.

Jack was dead. They had photographic and video proof of his long coming death from those Crimson Raiders and Vault Hunters. Those Vault Hunters gave Lilith the pleasure of killing the man. A firm hand gripping the man’s face, bringing him to his knees, followed by a quick burst of her Siren power coursed through his body and threw him to the rocky ground, splitting the back of his skull open like a ripe vineapple. 

“That was for Roland, asshole.” A brutal death, yet efficient. 

Several items were pilfered from Jack’s corpse, especially that mask, and they left him there to rot in the Vault of the Warrior. After planting a bullet to his brain. One last release of frustration from Lilith, and she swore she heard him gurgle. Hyperion was unable to retrieve his body, as once they regained control over the area, the arena was flooded with lava.

“Impossible…” Blake muttered as his eyes went back to the panels. He looked back to his ear. That person was talking, asking what was up. “I… I… I don’t even know where to begin.” He shook his head. “Hm!?”

Suddenly, a massive “ERROR” obscured the main screen.

98.989897% COMPLETE. ERROR. PROCESS INTERRUPTED. ERROR. PROCESS INTERRUPTED. INVESTIGATING ERROR.

Both brows were raised. He looked back over at Jack. Those digitstruct sounds and particles began to wind down and so did the lights. Just a few particles swirled around the floating, near lifeless body — as there was a finger twitch here and there — of Jack. The processed looked to be done. Jack looked to be entirely there. Wounds and all.

“Hm…” 

“Hm…” Blake transferred the panels over to his personal system and made his way towards the front of Jack. Still, he gave him a wide berth, carefully eying the possibly living corpse suspended in the air. He studied the burns and bullet wounds. The rising burn of bile came back up, but another hard swallow forced it back down.

It surprised him there were not more gruesome wounds — minus his one arm, thigh, and recognizable slices from a Buzzaxe — as those Vault Hunter’s came down on him hard in his final hour. Just a pack of rabid dogs dishing out much deserved justice against him with their overkill weaponry.

Though… there was his head… there was just a massive amount of fresh crimson running down his neck, coming from the back of his head. And from what Blake he glimpsed as studied the body, there was a chunk of hair missing, revealing shattered white fragments of a skull and that all too familiar pinkish-red brain.

“Huh…” The man tapped at his chin as he paused in his tracks. He was curious about that wound, though his brain was yelling at him not to look. Taking a few steps back, both brows were quickly raised. Another hard swallow followed, but a gag slipped out.

The back of Jack’s head was split open, but the brain looked rather intact. There should have been parts of it missing.

As he was pondering on the thought, moving forward again to study the rest of the body, he nearly tripped over his feet — way too close to the stairs. Really needed some guardrails on the platform — once his eyes saw the face. Jack’s face. It was him. Face plain, eyes closed, and mask torn off, revealing that embarrassing scar underneath. It was really him.

“How…?” Blake muttered as he got himself steady once more. His eyes focused on that face, especially that bullet wound right in the middle of his forehead. It was leaking. “Just how…?” 

If Jack had this working failsafe, why didn’t it activate as soon as he was killed?

“So… we may have a problem now.” Blake spoke to his contact. Throwing caution to the wind, as his curiosity was getting the best of him, he slowly inched towards Jack to getting a better look at him. “Something big just came up. It may be rather troublesome for the future of Hyperion.” 

As he got closer, Jack’s eyes flew open suddenly. A strangled gasp came out as his mouth snapped open. Blake’s eyes went wide; stumbling back, his butt hit the floor. He nearly tumbled down the stairs, barely catching himself.

Pain crossed Jack’s face. He grunted, face twisting into a grimace as his fingers arched. Those eyes, one blue and the other a cloudy green, darted around. 

Where? Where? Where the fuck am I? 

His mind was in a heavy fog, his body was numb, but the layout of the room seemed familiar to him. Those two gorgeous busts of one handsome man. And then he saw someone on the floor. His assistant, more like unwilling butler, Jimmy a.k.a. Blake. Mouth hanging open, the man was white as a sheet, like he had seen a ghost.

“What…” A mutter escaped his lips. What was he doing back in his office? Last thing he could remember was facing those wretched bandits in the Vault of the Warrior. But those memories were so foggy. His nose wrinkled as he closed his eyes tightly. Why were those memories so foggy? Why did it hurt to think?

He fought against that pain and searched for those memories. He won his fight against those stinkin’ murderous bandits, right? Right…?

His eyes flew open once more, face dropping, eyes trembling as they stared blankly ahead. The memories hit him. He did not win. The Warrior was summoned, but those bandits killed his long-awaited weapon. And then Lilith, the damn Siren killed him! Killed… him… He had died? 

Impossible… Impossible!

His mind refused to rationalize that. There was no way those bandits killed him. There was no way.

“Welcome back,” a female-voiced AI suddenly spoke, “Handsome Jack!”

Nononono…. Impossible…

“Death is barely a temporary setback for your Handsomeness!”

Fuck no…

Blinking a few times, a d brief shake of his head, his eyes fell onto the Blake. The man was still snow white and stammering “he’s alive” or some stupid nonsense. The man had to have answers. He was good at keeping track of things. Staying up to date on all the important information.

“What the hell is going on Jim—“ Jack froze as he felt something course through him. Mouth agape; pupils were mere pinpricks.

“ERROR. PROCESS INTERRUPTED. TRANSFER PROCESS INTERRUTPED. DNA DATA CORRUPTED. TRANSFER DATA CORRUPTED.” Another AI spoke. More robotic and cold. “FATAL ERROR OCCURING.”

 “mmmmMMMMMIIIIIY—,” Jack’s voice returned, going up several octaves as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, “AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!” Before it turned into a full-blown wail of pain.

Blue bolts of energy erupted from the machine like lightning, quickly ensnaring the man. Blood shot out of every wound. His body thrashed about in the air like a puppet being jerked around by a child, causing him to contort on himself several times. A few times, his back arched until it felt like his spine would break in two and then those limbs contorted nearly beyond their natural ranges until… a few snaps were heard. 

Blake had to turn away. This time he lost his dinner.

White froth soon left Jack’s mouth. And that Vault scar on his face began to glow… purple.

“What the hell…” Blake muttered, hand wiping his mouth. His mind trying to process what was going on. And his body was far too frightened to move a muscle. “He’s… alive.”

The entrance doors to the room opened. A thunderous stampede of footfalls entered the room. Blake looked over his shoulder.

“Took security forever… and there’s the medical team?” For a moment he wondered why they were there as he didn’t request them. Then his mind remembering the wailing corpse in the room. “Lovely…” Probably some hidden protocol in the program sent a message to them.  

Could he keep them from saving Jack? It was better for Hyperion — really everyone — if the man stayed dead. 

He pondered on that for a moment before pursing his lips. He took in a sharp breath and sighed. If Jack had this cooked up, what else did he have planned? Possibly additional orders in that hidden protocol to kill anyone that tried to stop the medical team from saving him.

“Why, why, why? Always something…” It was just a speculation, but Blake didn’t like. He had enough fun working around and tearing apart insane rules and loopholes the man had implemented to keep his power — and getting Hyperion back to its old black and red color scheme was one rule that was making him want to tear his hair out. He was so tired of that damn yellow.

 So, there probably was some hidden clause somewhere dealing with this, and Blake very much wanted to keep his head on his shoulders.

An annoyed sigh slipped from his lips. He barely noticed the medical team sweeping past him and over to Jack. Someone deactivated if not destroyed the machine. The moment it was off, Jack unceremoniously crashed to the ground, still a twisting and shaking mess. 

He barely acknowledged the security team and his ears being flooded by a sea of questions as hands firmly clasped his arms and raised him back to his feet. 

Is that Handsome Jack?

Handsome Jack is alive!?

Handsome Jack is back!?

“Oh, things are going to get interesting again…”

Looked like Blake’s and his contacts plans were going to have to be put on hold for the time being. 

Hopefully, death sobered Jack. But only time could tell. And Blake had strong doubts death did.

[einsteinsugly]

I'll admit it, I'm a bit salty. A That 90s Show analysis.

After crafting my second-gen characters for two-plus years, to purposely avoid a lazy cookie-cutter rerun (but in the early 00s), I was vaguely hopeful when I first heard about That 90s Show. There were red flags I couldn't ignore, like the name Leia and the 1995 date, though. More red flags kept popping up, but the premise was solid, if only for a few necessary changes.

However, the character release back in February legitimately pissed me off. It went from having to make a few crucial tweaks for me to enjoy it (an offscreen J/H endgame, no OOC Star Wars crap, and pushing the date to 1999 for the premise to make it all IC) to having to overhaul the whole damn thing. The second-gen characters are almost. Just. Like. Their. 70s. Counterparts.

And since the story revolves around Red and Kitty and the second-gen characters, this turns everything on its head. Now, it goes from editing about 30% of the premise to editing about 70% of it. It's so lazy. Such a blatant cash grab, with barely an ounce of creativity. It's like they looked at the gang's mold, and just tweaked a few things around the edges. So it wasn't a complete copy and paste.

But still, it was obvious. Leia's Donna, Jay's Eric, Gwen's Hyde, Ozzie's Fez, Nate's Kelso, and Nikki's Jackie. They're probably going to put Jay and Leia together too (they've also put the Kelso and Jackie equivalents together, so I wouldn't be surprised), mirroring the same relationship dynamics from the show. Which also reeks of laziness and a consistent lack of creativity.

Because a good writer/creator knows how to create characters from scratch. In the case of second-gen character creators, put some of their parents' traits in a blender. Add some other interesting stuff, and boom. An all-new character, with a personality all their own.

But no. We get this crap. I think the Red and Kitty stuff, for the most part, will be fine. But the rest of it is absolute trash, that makes little to no sense.

*****

Here comes the controversial part, dun, dun, dun...

A super long PS: No, gender swaps (in the case of Gwen) don't count as "creative." And racial changes don't count as "creative," either. Or as particularly progressive, because if representation is only skin deep and forced (since Wisconsin is hella white)? It comes off as creating a false illusion (*cough* neoliberal southern California brainrot *cough*) to push aside the reality on the ground.

So, T9S is not only creating cookie-cutter characters with little variation from the old, but they're just making skin-deep changes while plopping the gang (but with different names, and ever so slight tweaks) in the 90s. With similar adventures, most likely, but while adhering to today's sensibilities in fear of offending anyone.

But I just want complex, different characters, damn it! Not a rehashed, forcibly diverse puppet show that makes little to no sense, to fit irl circumstances, a commercialized, superficial obsession with Star Wars, and to adhere to the timeline of the creator's daughter's teenage years.

And yeah, most creators around here could write better shit in their sleep. But it'll never be broadcasted to millions of people, via a lazy reboot to conjure some surface-level nostalgia, by default.

Because creativity has been stifled in the world as of late, squeezed into the arms of a few companies that control everything and fear offending anyone (including their donors), so almost everything's the same. Old. Stale. Crap. Every week. This is why most corporate sitcoms have sucked, for at least a decade (if not more). And I'm including Netflix too, btw.

Hence, that's why I'm salty. It's like when Kim Kardashian wrecked Marilyn Monroe's "Happy Birthday" dress. Because she's rich, she can do whatever the fuck she wants. Whereas T9S is basically the same thing. Ruining something for attention, out of sheer laziness and for a desperate cash-grab, because they can.

[theaurorfiles-awbn]

BREAKING NEWS: ORTEGA DEFIES CONGRESS, SENDS OVER ADDITIONAL TEAM OF AURORS

Good evening, and welcome to your evening news with me, Elaine Penton. We have just received breaking news into our newsroom that President Horatio Ortega has defied the order Congress had imposed on him six months ago, and has sent over an additional team of aurors to extract the twelve aurors that have been trapped inside Scotland for the last six months. It has been reported that this new team of aurors hails from MACUSA’s Central Squad. 

It is unclear at this time just how this mission came into being. However, evidence shows that earlier this evening the twelve aurors all entered MACUSA’s headquarters, and used a portkey located within a training facility to transport themselves to Scotland. The Office of Government Oversight has since began an investigation on the matter, and have so far uncovered eyewitness testimony that has corroborated that President Ortega’s Chief of Staff was seen coming in and out of the training facility an hour before the aurors arrived. 

The UK Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse, has since spoken publicly regarding President Ortega’s actions and has called the mission an “Act of War”. He has also claimed that President Ortega had sent over the twelve new aurors not to rescue any that remain in his country, but to instead assassinate his Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Corban Yaxley. This claims seems to be corroborated in some way, as Corporal Ignatius Yaxley, Corban Yaxley’s long disinherited son, is among the aurors who illegally entered the country.  Thicknesse has since informed President Ortega that any American aurors in the U.K are now prisoners of war, and that the Ministry will have no choice but to retaliate should he make any move to rescue them. 

President Ortega has so far remained uncharacteristically quiet on the situation, however Vice President Judith Eames has recently just released a statement to the press, seemingly trying to distance herself from Ortega’s actions. In her statement she states, “Neither I or my son, Central Squad Chief Ben Eames, had any knowledge of this rescue attempt, and it pains us deeply that President Ortega has gone to such measures in order to enact his will. I cannot in good faith back his actions. I promise I will do everything in my power to negotiate with Minister Thicknesse to release our aurors back to us.” 

Congress is now currently in an emergency meeting to discuss its next steps and how to properly handle the matter. Rumors swirling around MACUSA though seem to suggest that the governing body is planning to introduce Articles of Impeachment against President Horatio Ortega. If this is cleared by congress, an official investigation into the events surrounding the mission will begin, and a trial to Impeach President Horatio Ortega and whether to remove him from office, will be held at the conclusion of the investigation. 

OOC: This news broadcast aired approximately two hours after the aurors left for Scotland. 

[wizardhq]

EVENT #38 { THE MODERN AU  }

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

Imagine a world where events like Quidditch are televised, the Wizarding Wireless Network has its own live podcasts, and the British Wizarding Broadcasting Corporation was a realized dream by the entire world, instead of being blocked by the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. The Ministry having its own social media platforms, government websites-- students at magical schools possessing computers, laptops, tablets, phones, electronics in general, all configured so that it’s on a database undetectable by muggles? And if you’re a muggleborn or halfblood, simply switching users so that way you can see both sides of the worlds developments? Magic ink refilling pens that change colors with the tap of a wand-- heck, magic ink refilling prints that make the cost of ink and toner irrelevant. Electronic timers connected to your customized apple phone that let you know the exact moment to check up on your Polyjuice Potion, amongst others that take very long to brew-- not to mention, you’ll never miss an essay deadline again!

    The Daily Prophet has its own online subscription as well as a paper edition, just like like the NY Times, the same blog layout utilized by Professors when they issue their monthly assignments on the Hogwarts website. Your favorite Designers, whether it be for technology or clothes, have hidden stores beneath them all, with customizations fit for the everyday modern wix-- not to mention online stores and easy peasy same day delivery from all of your favorite outlets in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Golden Pine, Montegreedio, and everywhere else! Even the purebloods partake in it all, making sure to rub their magically modified Range Rovers that can truly take on any domain, whether it be the ground or the air, or the latest luxury brand broom, Porsche for speed and Rolls Royce for leisure, in their upper echelon of society’s mates faces! Though, of course,  only extending accolades to the wizards who made it possible to possess such grand objects, instead of the original inventors whom they still scorn. Sounds brilliant, doesn’t it? What if I told you it were the reality of today? Of right now?

  Welcome to 2018, where technology now works in the Wizarding World, and has its own separate databases/networks on the things we’ve come to love-- on Apple items, Twitter, Verizon, and everything else you can imagine-- said databases/networks keeping it separate from muggles, therefore keeping the magical world a secret, and thus, continuing the fulfillment of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Thank Merlin that the Black Eyed Peas and he who must not be named were left in the last decade ( ironically, both will make resurgences. ) It’s for the best. In the past thirty years, the Wizarding World has changed drastically, going from practically living in the dark ages to being the leader in all things futuristic, all starting with the invention of a shield that allows magic and technology to coexist. To celebrate the 30th anniversary of this change, a documentary is in the works, where alumni of Hogwarts, a.k.a the schooling home of the wizard who invented the shield and where the revolution originally began, of the past thirty years, as well as current students, will be interviewed and followed around to show how much life has changed for the alumni and this generation, and how they’re now thriving because of the changes. Current students will also be shown the ways of the old Hogwarts for comedic effect, in a similar fashion to teens react from the muggle FBE channel, except labeled, “Wix React.”

SUMMARY:

This will be a Modern AU where the current time and place is 2018 instead of 1989, but the canon events of the past and future are still the same. It’s an opportunity to see how your characters would be in a different setting, at the starting place of whatever current plots they have right now. What would change? What would stay the same? It’s all up to you! Please be as imaginative as possible when thinking of ways Hogwarts and the outside Wizarding World would’ve changed with the influence of Technology and magic combined, while following the above plotline of the documentary.

IMPORTANT OOC DETAILS:

This event will start on FEBRUARY 19TH AT 1 PM EST and end on on MARCH 5TH AT 12 AM EST. FEBRUARY 29TH AT 12 AM EST. This is meant to be a dash event, but there may be opportunities on other platforms. FEBRUARY 19TH, THE FIRST DATE, will be dedicated to modern ask memes ( ie. contacts, snapchat, etc. ) to help conceptualize the world. Please put all posts (including any private thread starters, pictures of outfits, anything related at all) under the tag wizard:modernau2018.

House Cup opportunity for students: Each reply counts as a point towards their house, and a graphic counts as twenty points. Submit to the main the amount of replies you did at the end of the event, as well as the number of graphics, in order to cash in for your student’s house, or it won’t count!

I understand if you can’t get online, but if you’re online I expect your character to participate at one point or another. I will message you if you’re online and not participating in the event at all. This event is mandatory!

This is NOT a canon event.

All threads from before the event will have to be paused during to prevent confusion. All prior threads may be resumed afterwards, but ic it will be the month of March. Time Jump! Since this is an alternate universe, nothing that happens during the event will have happened in Wizards actual verse. You’re free to re-conceptualize important threads outside of the influence of the AU and the documentary after the event though!

Please like this post after reading it.

If you have any questions, please feel free to message the main!

[idolapps]

Oh My Girl "Windy Day" [ at least for 2016 tbh ]

OOC INFO NAME/ALIAS, PRONOUNS, TIMEZONE:  Billy, She/her, EST RESERVATION: “Lux.”

MEMBER PROFILE FACECLAIM: Kim Chungha NAME/STAGENAME: Kim Myeongeun/”Amy” BIRTHDATE/AGE: February 9, 1996. 20 years-old. COMPANY/POSITION: J-Soul Music, Lady, Main dancer, sub-vocalist, sub-rapper

HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 161cm/44kg TRAINING PERIOD/JOINING YEAR: Three years at Galaxy, final three years at J-Soul

  INTERESTING FACTS:

[ ☆ ] Previously trained under Galaxy before moving to J-Soul.

[ ☆ ] She speaks fluent Korean, English and Japanese. Excels in Korean tongue twisters.

[ ☆ ] She lost her shoes once or twice during performances even though it wasn’t during the more difficult parts.

[ ☆ ] Chose the stage name “Amy” because she found it easier to pronounce for non-Koreans and considered it more memorable. STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: 

  [ - ]  workaholic, bold, guarded

Even though she’s determined to work to the point of being stubborn, it often lands her in a state of exhaustion, needing medical assistance. It is few and far between that she needs an IV drip, but it was enough of a reminder to get proper rest, or at least try to during non-promotional schedules. But back on the promotional cycle, she goes right back to it, willingly exhausting her body and mind. Once she almost fainted during a recording for a weekly music show, but she bounced back long enough to finish out before seeking treatment. Amy tends to be guarded and vague when answering questions about her home life. Sometimes this can come off as rude to sensitive MCs, but the last thing she needs is a scandal involving her estranged, bully sister. Fans are good enough to cover up her past. Even though it’s another member of her family, the comparisons and assumptions would be endless. On an opposite note, Amy can also be bold, sometimes too bold, at least according to conservative citizens. Since South Korea’s government wants the nation to remain in a conservative mindset, some of the things that have come from Amy’s mouth have been “out of line,” but most of the younger crowd finds it refreshing and charming. Amy would rather be someone the young people have a connection and identify with. Concerning talents, Amy can’t belt out high notes like most idols, but it something she’s constantly working on.

[ + ] determined, optimistic, helpful, respectful

Determination laced with high hopes and optimism runs through her veins, driving her to best that she can be while also improving. The last thing she wants is to fail and have to crawl back home, licking her wounds with her tail between her legs or head hanging in shame. Even though she realizes embarrassing moments are inevitable since she is always in the public eye, she doesn’t let herself get down over it, allowing to laugh over it later. Sunbaes and elders during broadcasts and behind the scenes often describe Amy as caring, helpful and respectful for anyone, including the crew, even if she was met with downcasting tones or rudeness. Everyone is trying to be successful, and even if there are rivalries, Amy does not feel a need to be rude, even though sometimes she feels a miniscule pang of jealousy from time to time despite her own group rising to fame faster than anticipated. She excels in dancing and is known for her clear but powerful rapping lyrics, even if they are short. BIO/PERSONALITY:      Myeongeun considered herself pretty lucky to grow up on the beautiful island of Jeju alongside her grandparents on her mother’s side, her parents, twin sister and younger brother. For generations, The Kim family ran sharehouses catered to foreigners visiting for an extended stay, so their financial situation was pretty steady as Jeju had flocks of tourists all year round, but that seemed to be the only stable thing in Myeongeun’s life.      Like something out of a movie, Myeongeun’s twin was a polar opposite of Myeongeun, including looks and attitude. Myungeun and Haeun weren’t identical twins, only sharing the same nose and lips. Myeongeun was shorter, kept on weight easily and had wider eyes, while Haeun was taller, thinner and eyes that were easily pressed together when smiling.  Haeun was determined to be different in any way, finding Myungeun to be the “good twin,” which Myungeun didn’t think so at all. Myungeun wasn’t prettier than her twin, wasn’t good at studying or cooking or making friends. Haeun got caught up in being a bully, but maybe more like a ringleader of bullies, in her early teen years, so by then in comparison Myungeun ended up being the “good twin.” Myungeun never understood why Haeun wanted to be so different, so difficult, so… detrimental. Myungeun always joked that Haeun got it from their father, saying he was a mob boss in a former life, since they both seemed to enjoy power over people. Since it was bound to happen eventually, Haeun’s bullying landed her straight into trouble and expulsion from school. Like a whirlwind, Haeun’s bags were packed and she was sent to the mainland of South Korea, somewhere in the countryside with their father’s parents. Haeun didn’t bother to take a last glance at Myungeun before slamming their bedroom door in her face. Calls went unanswered. Messages went unread. Years went by without a word.      Soon Myungeun’s parents birthed a baby boy named Kyujin. She always believed that her mother decided to have another child just before Myungeun took off to do her own thing in life in her final years of school to fill the void, and maybe then she realized what her twin might have experienced. Maybe their parents favored Myungeun a little more than Haeun. Maybe they thought Myungeun was smarter, prettier, more likely to succeed in life, despite Myungeun’s lackluster grades. Instead of becoming bitter and jealous over the time not spent with her parents due to her new baby brother, she took it upon herself to take it easy. She wasn’t nagged as often about studies, her future in some amazing college that eventually would lead into a high paying corporate job, playing too many games or singing karaoke downtown. Freedom was at its best when Myungeun and her friend, accompanied by her friend’s parents, took a trip to NYC for two weeks before Myungeun’s second year of middle school. The Big Apple. Good pizza, breathtaking sights and more than enough fun for the two of them despite having parental chaperones.      Then, her friend broke the real reason as to why they were in New York. An idol company was holding their global auditions. Companies had auditions nearly every weekend in Seoul, so why come across the ocean? “Seoul isn’t exactly a vacation destination, plus you’re always great at karaoke, so you should audition with me,” her friend repeated every day their first week there. It wore Myungeun down and she gave in. If she was going to be faithful and wait with her friend in line for hours with the hundred other applicants, she might as well try even though karaoke isn’t any comparison to the idol life. Myungeun spent most of her time comforting her dear friend, trying to calm her down while practicing her lines from a script on her phone. Unbiasedly, Myungeun believed her friend would make a stunning rapper, and not just the kind of idol that is assigned to rap. Nervous hands clutched shirt hems behind their backs as each gave their best performance to the judges. Seals of approval were smeared across their audition papers. Despite the disapproval of Myungeun’s parents, she moved to Seoul for her last year of middle school to be a trainee at Galaxy. Was it illogical for her to pack up her life and move away for a dream that wasn’t her own? Probably. Did Myungeun have anything to lose? No. She already knew that the cubicle life wasn’t for her, so end of the year exams weren’t crucial. She wasn’t in the top 10 ranking for grades, but somewhere in the middle, in an “acceptable” range, even during her trainee years for this company. Blood, sweat and tears, all for a very distant goal that she might never reach. Not much in life ever captured Myungeun’s passionate side before. Her main goal was just success in any form. She was already in too deep to give up, but she was getting “too old” to debut. Idols debut younger and younger nowadays and the clock was ticking. Galaxy went years without debuting a second group, and at the time no girl group in sight, plus the undeniable fact that the CEO couldn’t seem to get all the finances right. It was time to go. At the end of the coming third year of being a trainee, Myungeun went to an open audition for J-Soul Music despite still being under Galaxy. Even though she presented a slight shaking singing voice out of nervousness, her impromptu dancing skills were enough to get into a trainee program. Shaking hands were brought to her face, covering her rosy cheeks, and also trying to hold back her tears. Of course she did not want to abandon her best friend or the several other trainees and seniors at Galaxy that she grew fond of, but the light at the end of her path was through a different tunnel. Purposefully Myungeun failed her end of the period trainee evaluation, packed her bags and moved onto the J-Soul Music life.

     Not to Myungeun’s surprise, training was harder in every sense, but she tried her best not to complain. Noone got anywhere in life by just breezing by without it catching up to them eventually. “It would all be worth it in the end,” was something she would tell herself every single day to get through it all, even though she knew deep down inside that being a trainee was just the tip of the iceberg in entertainment. Two more years passed and eventually she was chosen for a slot in a new girl group, eight years after the company’s first. The light was getting brighter and brighter.

[wickedlittlepuppy]

well hey there! guess i should've made a post saying i'm new to the murder drones rp scene, huh? this one's for n, my beloved lil puppo boy! this is an independent rp blog, so i'll follow from this one!

like / reblog this post if you're interested in interacting! this n is a little more on the bitey side, but i promise he's still very friendly!

this is penned by dolus (she/they, 24). :3

RULES ✧ MUSE INFORMATION ✧ PERMANENT STARTER CALL

[wickedlittlepuppy]

✧.. I've finally landed, so have this drawing of N that my friend @submanuts sketched for me.

[wickedlittlepuppy]

If you guys like this post you can receive a doodle of ur muse done by the lil dude himself (N) after I get off work.

[wickedlittlepuppy]

Guess who has covid!!! The affects are mildly inconvenient as of now, and we caught it early so I'm probably just going to be inconvenienced by congestion for a hot minute. If everything takes a lot longer than usual, this is why.

[wickedlittlepuppy]

📝 + tadc :3c

Send me “📝 + (fandom)” and I’ll reply with a character I would RP from that fandom | ACCEPTING

✧.. Take a guess, bestie.

[wickedlittlepuppy]

Thinking of archiving these and making new blogs for N and V,, mostly for my sanity lol

[wickedlittlepuppy]

Permanent starter call!

Like this for an N starter :)! For multimuse, feel free to specify who you might want to interact with him in IMs, through the replies, or in my inbox