#concrete testing machine name

[miniwheat77]

Machine. (König x Reader.)

!König is held captive, kidnapping, violence, mentions of test subjects, blood, gore, you’ve been warned, mentions of SA, proceed with caution!

It’s pitch black out. You’re the only one left out of a group of 5.

You retreated outside when the massacre started and you realized this was far larger than you thought it was going to be.

“We have intel that this group of terrorists kidnapped a Soldier from a military base in Germany. He was stationed there when they were ambushed and he was taken. They haven’t been able to track him until now, but we’ve gotten intel that he’s there. He goes by König.”

Your Captain’s words echo in your head. You were already so close. There was no going back now.

You take a deep breath. Trying to steady your racing heart. If he’s in there, and he’s alive. He can help you. It hard to force yourself to run into danger. You want to slow your heart but the fear of dying alongside your brothers sits like a weight on your chest. They shouldn’t have died like this. You needed to finish this for them.

You rest your hand on your chest. Taking a deep breath. You swallow hard, your collarbones aching because of how hard you’re breathing. You straighten yourself out, following along bushes and old outbuildings to keep yourself concealed. Picking off soldiers one by one. Once you’re sure the outside is clear, you’re onto the inside.

Your shoes pat against the cracked concrete outside. Crouched down and hugging the side of the building to hide away. You’re terrified but you have to do this. You push open the door, noticing a couple lone soldiers, taking them out with ease and moving in further. It’s dark inside. You find a couple of your men, no longer alive. They’re laid on the ground. Pools of blood surrounding them. You settle down for a second. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest and you know you have to calm down before you keep going. You grit your teeth. You sit up straight, pushing yourself further and further into the building. You come upon a door with a sign that says ‘Cell Block B.’

You push it open, stepping inside. Unsure if this is where you’ll find the missing soldier. You creep down the hallway, prison cells lining the walls. Some empty, some occupying dead prisoners. You keep forcing yourself to take in deep breaths. Just keep calm. You come to a cell at the end, and notice a man shackled to the wall. He’s got little to no room, and you can clearly see why. He’s massive.

“Hey.” You crouch down, gathering his attention. He turns to look at you. “What’s your name?” You ask. You’re whispering.

“König.” He breathes. You sigh, relief flooding through you.

“König.” You tilt your head, repeating his name. “I’m Sergeant Y/N Y/L/N. I’m stationed on a military base not far from this place, I’m here to get you out.” You start looking around for a key. König sits up. His eyes shine in the darkness and you can’t help but see a hood over his face. “The Captain keeps the keys in his office.” He nods. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” You breathe, continuing your way down the hallway, you see an office at the end of the corridor. There’s a man inside but he appears to be asleep. Luckily you have a silencer. You crack open the door, moving up behind him. You grasp a hold of him, firing into his skull and lowering him down to the ground quietly, tugging the keys off of his waistband. You freeze when you hear footsteps coming your way.

You huddle up against the wall, when the door opens you clench your eyes closed for a second. “What the hell?”

You lunge forward, tackling the man onto the ground, lining your gun up and fighting him, firing into his chest two times. Taking a deep breath. These soldiers were fucking endless.

You hurry back down the hallway, opening up König’s cell door. You step inside and begin unlocking the chains that shackle him to the floor and walls. He rubs his wrists painfully. “Are you well enough to use a gun?” You ask. He nods his head. You tilt your head, walking back into the office. You pass him a handgun and an assault rifle, watching him tuck the pistol into his waistband. Adjusting himself as he holds the rifle close to his chest. “Are there other soldiers?” You ask. He nods his head. “A few, they’re in other cell blocks.” You can’t help but notice his broken English, telling you that English isn’t his first language. You follow him as he makes his way out. “I can go get the other prisoners. We’ll be better off as five rather than two.” He nods. “Okay. I’ll go start clearing out other spaces.” You nod. You split up.

You make your way through more of the dark compound. Heart pounding in your chest. You hope König is well enough to get to those other prisoners without injury.

Just as you relax, you’re hit right in the face with the butt of a rifle. It stuns you, knocking you down. The man moves on top of you immediately and you start to fight back.

He overpowers you, pinning your arms up above your head.

He laughs menacingly.

“My my… look at you.” He grins. You can see it in the dark. “You’re the girl sneaking around killing everyone.” He breathes, inhaling deeply. He lowers himself down, inhaling your scent. You cry out, fighting against him. “Been a long time since I’ve seen a woman. He smirks. You swallow hard, fighting against him even harder. Clearly he did not have intentions to kill you.

He forces both of your hands together, pinning them above you with one hand. Lowering the other to his waistband. You squirm against him, crying out.

“No no no- stop! Get off of me!” You scream. He forces your legs open, moving himself between them. “No need to cry, nobody is going to help you.” He breathes.

You kick at him but he doesn’t budge.

You scream out, trying to force your hands away from him and he starts to unbutton his pants. Just as he’s about to expose himself, someone puts a gun to his head. He freezes up immediately. “Stand up.” The deep accented voice is soothing in your time of need. Once he’s off of you, you’re scrambling away. The other men König had gone to save helping you up from the floor, moving you away from him. “Hey- let’s talk about this.” The man holds his hands up in surrender.

“Brenn in der Hölle.”

A bullet penetrates his skull as König fires the gun. His head is throw back from the force of it. His body hits the ground with a thud and you flinch. “He’s the last one. We cleared out the rest.” Another one of the men says it. You nod your head. You can see now why they had König shackled so much. He’s massive, a killing machine. “I’ll lead you to exfil.” You pick your gun up off of the floor, hurrying out of the room before you get sick.

—

You’re staring ahead, they’ve patched you up the best they can. Your face took a good hit from his gun.

Once you’re good to go, you make your way into another tent. Seeing König is sitting on the edge of a cot. He’s in much worse shape than you. They’ve got him hooked up to a couple of IV’s. You make your way up to him. You can’t help but notice all of the marks on him. They almost look like track marks. “What did they do to you in there?” You ask. “To be honest… not sure.” He breathes. “They would come in and draw my blood. I know they wanted to clone me. But I’m not sure how. Most of the time I was unconscious.” He breathes. You nod your head. “I see why, you’re a good soldier.” You laugh.

He grasps your hand in his. “Thank you. For saving me.” He looks up at you.

“We’re even. You saved me too.” You look down.

“Are you alright, Schatz?” He asks. You nod your head. “I’ll be just fine.” You smile.

You sit down next to him. Ready for the whole story.

[rhodeybugg]

Dust From The Past: Chapter 1 - Conspiracy

//SURPRIIIISEE It's here!! Song from the Act 1 Playlist is: 'Kara Main Theme'

CONSOLIDATED ANDROID NO 001

SYSTEM START….

Initializing…

.

.

.

Complete.

Data Blackbox : ONLINE

Audio Processors : ONLINE

Adjusting Optics…

Internal Systems : OPERATIONAL

.

.

Its eyes opened—not smoothly, but with the sharp precision of a camera shutter snapping into action, introducing it to the world for the first time. For a moment, it’s vision was a blur of bright fluorescent lights and pristine concrete walls to match.

But just as quickly as the shutter had snapped, the world came into focus.

The room was cold and quiet, save for the humming of the lights above it, and a distant conversation a few rooms over.

Cold air hit the few parts of it’s metal arms and legs that remained exposed by the strange article of gray clothing that covered most of its body, and the robot wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

…It could feel..?

It could….think…?

An involuntary twitch moved the digits of its left hand as an android on another table awoke.

It wasn’t sure how just yet, but something told it that they were different from each other. This one was taller, and based on the few strands of synthetic black hair that it could see curling around its face in the corner of its optics, as compared to the cherry red hair of the new one, the differences were intentional.

“Are they going to work, or not?”

A new sound made both of them turn their attention to the only way out of the room, staring with pure curiosity as two new figures entered.

Humans. A short one in a lab coat with glasses and long, scruffy black hair that had been tied back in a ponytail, and a tall one, a brunette with neatly trimmed hair and a fancy business suit.

“I told you they will, you just have to give them time-”

And then they stopped. Both androids made eye contact with the men.

“...Francis, what is this?”

The tall one glared at the shorter one- who the two androids assumed was Francis.

“Sir, I told you.” The shorter one pushed his glasses back onto his nose. “I took some creative liberties with the project-”

The tall one stepped towards the two androids, a displeased expression on his face. The two androids shared a look of confusion. Had they already done something wrong?

Francis pointed towards the red-haired one.

“These are the two prototypes. That’s Vex.”

The displeased taller human rolled his eyes.

“You NAMED them?”

Francis ignored him, gesturing towards the black-haired one.

“And that’s Jamie.”

“I didn’t ask you for PETS.”

The tall one spun on his heels to face Francis.

“I asked you for MACHINES. TOOLS. Not dress-up toys!”

Jamie. So that was its name!

Jamie…

…Yeah, it liked that name.

“These ARE your machines. I just took us a step further in the project and put us in a brand new direction.”

Jamie glanced at Vex, who had turned their attention to something in the corner of the room. A bug, maybe?

“What the hell are you talking about, Francis?”

Francis moved to Jamie’s side, waving a hand in front of the android enthusiastically.

“Just think! First, we start with clearing out the mine- show everyone what they can do-”

“And?”

“And then, we move UP! Think of all the jobs these guys could take! We could reduce the rate of unnecessary work deaths! If there isn’t a REAL person working the job, there are no liabilities!”

…what the heck were they talking about?

The tall one thought for a moment, before nodding and flashing Francis a smile. Jamie wasn’t sure if it was a genuine one, or a sinister smile.

“I like your thinking, Francis.”

“Here, and you can even take one of the prototypes! Test it out, let it work around the office- send it to go fetch papers or something. Your choice.”

..what was going to happen to the other one?

“Give me the red one.” The taller one spoke without hesitation. “You can put the other one in storage for now. We’ll keep it for the showcase.”

The two androids shared a look of confusion and…another emotion that neither really knew of yet. Had Jamie done something wrong? Had Vex done something? What was going to happen to Jamie?

It felt a hand brush against the sensors on it’s face before it’s vision focused again. Only Francis and Jamie remained in the room.

It stayed perfectly still as his hand moved to the back of it’s neck, doing something with the control panel between it’s shoulders.

And then it finally spoke. It took a few crackles and confused attempts at words, before Jamie finally got the words out of their processor.

“....Did i…..do something..wrong..?”

Francis shook his head, smiling at the robot.

“No, no, sweet girl, you’re just..”

It- no.. she, tilted her head.

“It’s just not your time to shine yet, is all.”

SYSTEM POWER SWITCH OFF.

10 SECONDS TO SHUTDOWN.

“You’re alright.”

She found his words oddly assuring, a confirmation that her simple existence hadn’t been an immediate failure.

“You’ll get your chance again, Jamie.”

5 SECONDS…

The camera lens closed again. She didn’t want to fade back into nothingness again, but she had no choice.

“...They’ll love you. I know they all will.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y̵̴̷̵̵̡̧̧̛̼̱͎̠̜̘͍̘̥̣̩̰͔͉ͣ̑ͩ͒ͣ̐̍̾́̈́̅͊̎̀̽͐͊͟͡͠ͅͅơ̧̨̝̼̦̱̰͈͍̙͆͋͒̔̂ͭ̎̑̿̈́͋̂̓̀̐̀̋ͤ͗̑̆̄̕͢͢͠͞ͅụ̷̵̢̭̠͕͈͚̾͋̆̾̿͗͑̌͒̽ͨ̇͒ͦ͞_͕̘̗͔̻̽̓̎͊̊ͯ̂'̪͈̞̙͛̀ͪͬͦ̚r͓̝̖̈́̔ͦ́͌_̡̨̪͍̩̳͙̲̤̳̰ͤ̂̒ͥ̊ͭ͛ͫ͘_̡̼̝͇̘͙̟ͥ͊͋ͤͥ͌̇̕͠͡e̷̸̢̢̜̦̝̝͎͔̩͍̤͍͍͔̹͔̞̯͋͆͐͆ͯͮ͊̋̂̌ͫ͋̿̀́ͮͦ͌̑ͩ͆͟͜͞ͅͅ d̴̸̢̻̙͚̬̩̳̳͍͕̪̗̾̐̓̒͛̑̀ͮ͠ͅͅŗ̵̷̷̴̡̱͉͚͉̠̹̟̘̍̈̋ͦ͗̔̋́̈̋ͩ̑ͮ̒̕͘͟��̶͉͖͉͙̏͌͋͐ͥ͌̚͡ͅͅe̵̷̶̝̭̭͈̦̜̟̺̮̻̠̦̲̩̫͍ͪ͊̃́̉͆̊͛͗̌̎̃̐̿̂́̏̔̚͘ą͕̯̭͎ͧ̌̃͐ͭ̊ͫ̋͊ͫ̚͢͝m̵̴͇̜̟̠͊̀̕ͅi̴̠̫̼̻͎ͦͥ͛ͩ̔̊ͩ̕͟͠n̗g̷̴̗̖̖̗̦̻̲͕̺̜͕ͯͩ̄̂̈́̉̈̽̅̾̈́͊̃ͩ̋̾ͧͭ̚̚͜͞ͅ a̴̭͇̤̦̻̜̼ͦ̌ͫ̇̾̚ͅ_̶̢̰̦͉͍̙̙̭ͨͨ̾ͣ͂͒ͥ͋̋́̿ͦ͘͟͡g̶̨̝̖͍̰̹̥̦͎̬͍̼̰̯͎̒̏ͦ̑̊͗̽̒̊ͪ̃ͧ͛͢a̝͙̮̎̑̽̚ì̧̺̲̼̤̏ͦͮͥ͛ͩ̕ņ̰̫̰̯̪̦̲͇̺̺̗̲̙̲̹̳ͬͮ̀̏ͩ͂̄ͭ̽̍͊̓͑̀͒̉̄̉ͣ̒̚̕̕͘͜͡.̴̸̞̪̥̭͇̥͔͖͖̬̻͈̮ͥͤͥ̋̇ͮ̓̄̆ͣ̊͘͜͜͟͟

W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏

W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏

W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏ W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏ W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏ W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏ W̫͖͎̝͇̮ͬ̅ͪ̄̍̀̎̋̌ͬ̕ͅa̷̖̣ͯ̃͌k̷̰̦̤̳̖̮̥͔̽ͯ́̈́̈́ͧ̂͛̑̔̋͂ͭ͊̕͝ẹ̙̯̬̘̠̙̘̰͕̒̌ͣ̊̃ͮ̃̇ͥ̈_̱ ṳ̸̧̩̘̙͍̱̋͋̀_̲͊̾̑̕͜p̮̰̦̟ͮ̿̈́̅̏

Junebug gasped as she jolted upwards, digging her hands into the blanket around her.

It was dark. She could see, she knew she could, it just took a minute for her optics to adjust- something about cameras and exposure and…yeah, something like that.

Where was she, again..?

The weight beside her finally registered. Johnny lay peacefully sleeping on his side beside her, arms curled to his chest and his face buried in a pillow.

Spare bedroom, basement, tv…couch…

Right, Clara and Cyrano’s house. She and Johnny did a set at a bar nearby and asked to stay with them for the weekend. The bike was outside, the keys were on the table.

Well, there was no chance of her going back to sleep, not after that nightmare.

Junebug moved slowly and quietly, not wanting to disturb her Cricket, taking careful steps up the stairs and into the kitchen.

She’d made up her mind about halfway up the steps, deciding that she’d snag one of the leftover donuts from the box on the kitchen table, and then maybe..go for a late night swim. Surely they didn’t get a pool put in outside just for it to be a decoration, and she was waterproof anyway, what would it hurt?

Ⱥꞥđ ⱳħⱥⱦ īꞩ īⱦ ɏꝋᵾ ⱦħīꞥҟ ɏꝋᵾ'ɍē đꝋīꞥꞡ?

It was too early to be fighting her inner demons.

She brushed off the nagging feeling of impending doom as she licked a stray fleck of caramel from her chin, making sure not to accidentally trigger the chime that Clara had installed near the back door.

Łꝋꝋҟ ⱥⱦ īⱦ. Īⱦ ⱦħīꞥҟꞩ īⱦ ȼⱥꞥ ēⱥⱦ łī��ē ⱥ ħᵾᵯⱥꞥ. Īⱦ ⱦħīꞥҟꞩ īⱦ īꞩ ħᵾᵯⱥꞥ.

Warm weather, clear skies, perfect conditions for a night swim.

Junebug always preferred to swim in shorts, never a swimsuit. She could never really decide why, and everytime someone asked, she gave them a different answer. She could never find one she liked, or one that fit her, or she didn’t like how they were made, or-

..Or maybe she just didn’t like people seeing the wield marks in her plating.

Ⱦⱥҟē ⱥ ꞡꝋꝋđ, łꝋꞥꞡ łꝋꝋҟ ⱥꞥđ ɍēᵯēᵯƀēɍ ⱳħⱥⱦ ɏꝋᵾ ⱥɍē

The water was perfectly still. The moon provided just enough light for her to see her own reflection as she moved to step into the water.

Her mismatched eyes, the scratches in her plating, uneven wield marks on her neck.

The plating. Her skin.

Łꝋꝋҟ ⱥⱦ ɏꝋᵾ, ꝑɍēⱦēꞥđīꞥꞡ ⱦꝋ ƀē ⱥ ħᵾᵯⱥꞥ. Ɏꝋᵾ ȼⱥꞥ'ⱦ ēꞩȼⱥꝑē ⱳħⱥⱦ ɏꝋᵾ ⱥɍē.

Her breath caught in her throat. She forgot it was possible, artificial lungs, yet another curse-within-a-blessing given to them by the company.

₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮₴₮Ø₱ł₮

“...Junebug?”

She hadn’t realized how close she’d gotten to the edge before she lost her footing and fell in at the jolt of surprise.

The water hit her senses before she could even process what was going on, body twisting and flailing in the water as she tried to move in whatever direction she could perceive as up.

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, and she found a shoulder to rest her head on as she caught her breath.

𝗔⃥𝘳̸𝗲⃥ 𝘆⃥𝘰̸𝘂⃥ 𝗼⃥𝘬̸𝗮⃥𝘺̸?⃥!̸ 𝘑̸𝘂⃥𝘯̸𝗲⃥𝘣̸𝘂⃥𝘨̸?⃥!̸

… Ɉᵾꞥēƀᵾꞡ?!

Johnny. It was Johnny. He had her.

“June! Jesus, answer me!”

After realizing whose arms she was in (And who had accidentally scared her in the first place), she tightened her arms around his shoulders just a bit more.

“I’m fine. I’m fine, Cricket.”

Well, that was one way to get in the pool. They were still in the shallow end, so they could both stand, even though Junebug was using Johnny for support as she rebalanced herself and coughed up the small amount of water she had accidentally inhaled.

“You just scared me, that's all.”

Johnny frowned and furrowed his brows as Junebug pulled back.

“You scared me. I woke up and you weren’t there, and then I came out here to see you hyperventilating beside the pool.”

Shit.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

Johnny kept his hand on her arm, keeping her close to him.

“Is that really it?”

She tried to pull away as he pulled her into another embrace.

“That’s it, Cricket. Nothing else to talk about.”

“Talk to meeeeeeee.” Johnny pouted.

“There isn’t anything else to talk about.” Junebug stared over his shoulder and into the water. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was making the “alright, I guess we’re doing this” face.

Especially when he started drifting backwards, pulling her towards the deep end of the pool.

“CrICkET”

“What?” Johnny teased, snickering as she wrapped her arms and legs around him this time.

“If there isn’t anything to talk about, surely you don’t mind-”

Junebug playfully swatted at his face. “You know I hate being in the deep!”

It was true, and he knew it. They were both originally built to maneuver in water, meaning that taking a swim in a pool, or even in down in the echo river at the rum colony, was no big deal, but Junebug absolutely DESPISED being where she couldn’t touch the bottom.

“Do I?”

“If you’re trying to get me to talk, this isn’t going to work.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek. She stuck her tongue out and retaliated by nipping at his ear.

“C’mon, June. You know you never win this fight.”

Junebug let her chin rest on his shoulder again. “I’ve told you about my dreams before. There, that’s it. I had a dream and couldn’t go back to sleep so I came out here. Happy?”

Johnny’s playful look turned to a look of concern.

“And you decided to come outside and have a staring competition with your reflection?”

Junebug stayed silent. Johnny knew, they both had their insecurities, despite how hard they tried to act human, how they rebuilt themselves and colored in the empty spots, how they could never get the paint to fully cover up the seams on their limbs.

“....Can you put me down now?”

She immediately realized her mistake, and kicked herself for her words.

“Right here?”

She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, He was always the better swimmer.

“Right here?”

“JoHNNy DoN’T YoU DArE”

He only released his grip just a little bit, but she still frantically tried to pull herself closer to him.

“CRICKET.”

“What? You told me to put you down-” He shrugged. “I’m just doing what my Junebug wants.”

“YOUKNOWDAMNWELLTHATSNOTWHATIMEANT.”

She only stopped her frantic attempts to stay as close as possible to him when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her waist again.

“Request rescinded?” Johnny got her on the chin this time.

Junebug buried her face in his shoulder to hide her embarrassment. Thank god it was only her and Johnny, for her own sake. He was the only one that ever got to see her like this, that ever got to truly make her laugh or be there when she needed comfort. Those quiet, private moments were the only moments they dropped the act and got comfortable.

And they liked it that way.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“....Gross.”

The Blue-haired one stuck out her tongue.

The purple-haired one shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, you’ll blow our cover.”

“I don’t see why we can’t just take them now.” The blue-haired one whispered to the other. “They’re right there, there’s nobody else around-”

The purple-haired one pointed towards the house, making sure not to move past the shrubs they were using to hide behind.

“And there are houses with god knows how many security systems. Do you know what would happen if we got caught?”

The blue-haired one rolled her eyes and replied mockingly, “The boss will get in trouble and then we’ll get scrapped because yada yada bad company publicity.”

“Finally, you’re using your processor.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before the blue-haired one spoke again.

“...but they’re right there. We could get this done now-”

The purple-haired one turned to face her, a hand on his hips as he snarled.

“Do you have the narcotics on you?”

The blue-haired one glared back in an angry silence.

“Hey, Tempest?” She cocked her head. “How about you kiss my-”

The collars around their necks beeped quietly before she could finish her challenging insult. The blue-haired one groaned in annoyance.

“We’re done for tonight anyway.”

The blue-haired one snuck one last glance at the two oblivious bodies down the hill, only turning her attention away when Tempest quietly called for her.

“Surge! Leaving now!”

An excited, absolutely wicked smile crossed Surge’s face as she trailed into the woods after Tempest, cackling under her synthetic breath.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

[diverse-hearts-ocs]

Starter for @mcuntainbcrn ~ cause who doesn't want more angst?

The heat only annoyed him for the simple fact that he couldn't stay as covered as he would like to. Out here like he was, he'd often find himself overheating if he were to stay under the cover of the heavy robes that he liked to hide beneath - and although he longed to perish from this world, he was quite aware that heat wasn't the answer - that'd been tested, more times than he cared to think on.

Instead of his dark robes then, he currently wore lighter colours, loose clothing more in the style of his native homeland, than the frozen wastelands that had been his prison for so many years now. It helped against the heat, sure, but it also allowed him to see just how different his body now was - the slightly off looking joints in his arms, the scars that ran across the artificial skin he now wore, hiding the monstrous mix of machinery and biological make-up that kept this shell of a being alive, Niwa pausing for a moment as a glimpse of movement nearby caught his attention - when usually it never would have. He'd long since shut himself off from the world - only listening out for the orders from his masters - even after becoming the eighth Harbinger, he was aware that it was in name only. His rank meant nothing and he didn't care. All that he did like, was being outside again.

Still, there was something that had caught his attention, something that pulled him away from the task that he'd been ordered to carry out, the plants placed away inside his bag, before he silently slipped away into the depths of the nearby plants, following after the figure that had managed to draw something from the back of his long buried memories. This girl, who was she? Why was she having this type of effect? He'd long since decided to shut down, to close himself off...if only to guard his mind from insanity - so just how was she calling to him like this?

Foggy memories were difficult to pull on, but his sight kept being drawn to the hairpins that the girl wore, so he guessed that it had something to do with them, but what, he wasn't sure - there was a small voice telling him that those belonged to another though, someone who he'd loved a lifetime ago, a thought that was quickly buried before he could risk recalling anything too concrete. He was simply a machine now, a monstrous doll of destruction - memories of a time long past were useless to such a thing...yet still he silently followed.

[acestories]

So, I know this isn't technically my writing blog (though I could make it), but I'm working on a story that I feel like at least someone here will like.

"In some ways the world hasn’t changed; Karens still scream at grocery store clerks for no reason, Douchebags think they own the roads, and the sun continues to rise every morning. But, it’s definitely changed; people fly through the air on their own, a car mechanic lifts the car he’s working on with his bare hand, and a thief outruns a squad of police cars. 

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. 2020 was terrible already, but as if that wasn’t enough it had one last fucking piece of shit to throw in our faces. Christmas night, there was a violet star in the sky. By new years eve, it had become a sun. By new years day, a violet mist that brought with it plague, one with a 10% mortality rate, and the rich and powerful hid themselves away from it. As they always did.

But as it turned out, ⅕ of those who survived it got what could only be called Superpowers. And very few of the rich and powerful got Superpowers. The inevitable started to happen. 

And where do I fit into all of this? Well, I'm the ñonbinary cat boy waiting for their take out to be ready. What? Just because I got Superpowers doesn't mean I don't want tacos. And these guys make a gochujang teriyaki sauce that is to die for. And I'm not gonna let some random ass fuck wad villain destroy this place, I can't recreate the sauce! 

The villain (who I think called himself Syndrome or some shit like that, I can't rememeber) charged at me, fist raised high. I'm able to dodge at the last minute, the concrete street corner shattering as it took the blow, which when combined with my latest bruises, are enough to tell me that this guy has one of those Escalating Strength powers in addition to the basic stuff.

Gotta take them out fast, before they start punching Blackholes or something. I think someone can do that?

The villain starts monologuing; ooooooh, his name is "Symptom." That's actually kinda cool, I gotta admit. Regardless, thank fuck this guy is long winded. Or really into L.A.R.P.ing. 

Doesn't matter now though; I charge at him with the speed of a bullet and unleash a flurry of blows. After a few seconds of what sounds like a machine gun going off, he starts to fall backwards, a look of surprise on his big stupid, neck-bearded face.

Heh, I caught him Monologuing. Guess that makes me a sly cat instead of a sly dog. :D

Oh yeah, the cat parts. While only ⅕ of survivors got super powers, over half of survivors got "fantasy bits." I got turned into a cat boy, but I've seen people with other parts. Someone I went to high-school with got turned into an Orc. 

Oh, and these things aren't a package deal, but there is enough overlap that it's testing fate to make a cat girl angry. So the Boomer who's screaming and making threats at me for not saving his car is either really brave or really stupid. I'm betting on the latter. 

Regardless, my food is ready and I wish to return home, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

[yama-uba]

At my current age, I know 3 things about myself for sure: I can't dwell on anything (especially before bed), I can't have plums and beets, and I never follow the first two prohibitions. Because of the abundance of thoughts about Paralives, last night I dreamed that I was an intern at PS.

The first thing I remember is that I was introduced to the development team, an analyst, and a tester. And then the team leader asked how I did my "homework" on getting to know the project. I said that I was interested in the fact that they decided to make a mechanic where individual light bulbs in lighting fixtures can burn out and parafolk can buy a separate, suitable light bulb for some objects and screw it in. ATTENTION: I doubt that this will be implemented in the game - it was only part of my dream. And then I asked, if we deepen the home gameplay towards realistic household chores, then can we find out how the mechanism of breakdown and the mechanism of clogging of plumbing is implemented, including sinks/baths/washing machines/boilers, and not just toilets, because a clog is not just a leaky flush tank.

There was an awkward pause and I continued asking questions in an attempt to ease the tension. "Will the game implement a system of water pipes and drainage, which would limit the placement of plumbing?", "Will we create an electrical circuit for the house, where all energy consumers should be taken into account, including sockets and light switches?", "What kind of heating will be preferable in the land of parafolk: radiators, convectors, air conditioners or a warm sweat system?", "Will sources of cold and heat in the house be taken into account, such as tiled floors, doors to the street and a chimney of a fireplace on the upper floors?", "What is the maximum length of a floor in the game and will it be possible to create a panel, frame, brick, monolithic reinforced concrete house and a house-hybrid of construction technologies?" I also asked a bunch of questions that I have already forgotten.

Everyone was looking at me. And then my boss said, "You know, we haven't even thought about this until now. Your first task is to formulate a concept and create a prototype for our focus group and testing of this idea this week." I was very surprised by this deadline. Considering that 1 of these 5 days was already coming to an end, I was assured that this time was more than enough and, as soon as I got the hang of the project, I would be able to do all this in 24 hours.

Then there was a typical "strange work day" in a dream, where it turned out that the junior programmer assigned to me to help with the implementation turned out to be a goose. I mean, he was not anthropomorphic, but a real live, white goose (and, if you look at it from another point of view, he was a really talented programmer, capable of writing code according to my idiotic technical task). As is customary in any dreams, the only thing that confused me was that his name was Steve (this name is associated with very difficult to communicate with people, like Jobs and cases from my experience, but Steve-goose was not only a competent employee, but also a pleasant person).

Somewhere on the 4th day of my work and hard crunch on studying the sewerage system of an American private house together with a goose, I began to sleep right at the meeting. My boss noticed this and asked me if I thought our parafolk personality profile system, which was a complete homage to the Sims 2 character system, was boring. I said that the OCEAN system was good, of course, but I would add to these 5 traits the missing traits from the HEXACO system (and added some other traits that I came up with at that moment, which brought their number to 9), and also returned the Yunk typology, but would make it not a "zodiac sign", but a lifestyle, and also added that very "passion for some activity" from the Hobbies DLC. At that moment, I forgot about fetishes and taboos (as always in a dream).

The team leader loved the idea, but everyone else sighed heavily. He crossed out all his old notes on the wall and started drawing everything again. Steve, sitting next to me at the daily, stretched out his long neck and whispered that this person was both the project's best hope for getting out of beta and the local Elon Musk. So I had to be extremely careful with my "bouts of creativity."

The boss saw this and asked what was missing in my character system for the base game. I said that the fear system from Sims 2 needs to be developed into a full-fledged mechanic. Like there are fears (rational fear of something), and there are phobias (irrational fear). And we could get a lot of interesting multi-layered systems with intrapersonal conflicts of parafolk, like real people. For example, a person who dreams of becoming a superstar (because his mother wanted him to), but is afraid of the stage. And that this would give more replayability with a small amount of starting content for stories: a phobia could arise during the game due to the player's actions, due to being in society with parafolk with this phobia, be hidden from the player (the character knows about his fear), hidden from both the player and the character (latency period). I was asked to list the options:

Thalassophobia - (homage to Sims 2);

Cynophobia (dogs);

Nyctophobia (darkness);

Acrophobia (heights);

Verminophobia (bacteria)

Claustrophobia and Agarophobia (closed and open spaces);

I named half a dozen more phobias that I could remember, including trypophobia. And then I came up with the concept that we need to make a family of pre-mades, where the only toddler will have absolutely all the realized phobias, which will constantly exhaust his parents, but at the same time this same child will heroically save his family, neighbors and acquaintances from dangers and be a "reinsurer hen". This impressed everyone. Especially my boss. … He said that I have 3 days to give them a finished sample so that they can decide whether to do it. I said that I can't. To which the boss assured me that it's okay, because I can do it on the weekend. Steve, who had previously been kind to me, said that he could only help with the mechanics of the house, and this task was beyond his strength.

It seems that this is where my career in game development ended, because I don't remember much after that. But I do remember that I woke up thinking, "I slept through my alarm! Steve now has to defend me in front of everyone else! We'll get fired! We don't have time for anything!" Maybe it's for the best that I didn't pursue a career in the game industry - this world already has enough Peter Molyneux.

...

I wonder if Steve was able to get promoted to middle programmer after such a quest…

[dzthenerd490]

File: Pikmin - Man-at-Legs

SCP#: AJE

Code Name: The Last Machine of the Last War

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AJE was destroyed upon discovery however its anomalous parts were transported to Site-AA for extensive testing. It has been placed in a containment box that is stored in the anomalous technology storage unit. It is non anomalous in its current state and all that can be learned from it has already been learned as such it is taken out regularly for minor testing purposes. The AFA-1 units are programmed to protect it along with the other anomalous technology devices in the storage unit but not to prioritize it over other items and especially recognized SCP’s. 

Description: SCP-AJE at the time of activation was a strange arachnid-like creature that oddly only has four legs despite being an arachnid. One leg in particular is missing and the orb-like torso is heavily damaged with only some damaged arachnid organs remaining. Naturally this would leave SCP-AJE as a broken corpse had it not been augmented with a steam powered mechanical torso and a mechanical leg. The resulting organism stands only 40 inches tall but shockingly it possesses a gun that shoots an unlimited amount of small explosive bullets that fly and target like missiles. These missiles easily rip through flesh and destroy concrete with ease. There is unfortunately nothing else remarkable about SCP-AJE other than its anomalous origin. 

SCP-AJE was discovered in 2004 within one of the caves that was to be sealed by Mobile Task Force Hades-5 "Cave Crawlers". While fighting against SCP-AMZ, SCP-AJE appeared and started firing at the instances as well. SCP-AJE started firing at them and even hurt them, allowing the MTF Hades-5 units to seal the cave with a Kallivantium explosive. Unfortunately, SCP-AJE started attacking them well and even blew off one of their legs, so the other MTF units crushed it by stomping on it. Though it was concluded that SCP-AJE was not remarkably anomalous it was still an anomaly and thus the MTF units were punished by being assigned to cleaning duty to SCP-173 for a week. 

However Dr. Wobble decided to take a look further and somehow found an audio recording that revealed that SCP-AJE came from the future. Please see Addendum X-71 for details. 

***

Addendum X-71

The following is a recording found in an anomalous device found inside SCP-AJE’s remains. 

Begin Recording

“I don’t really know why I’m doing this anymore… The war is over… we lost… I guess I’m just hoping maybe there’s something or someone out there that will be intelligent enough to understand what I’m saying… We were stupid. We saw the threat but at the time it was so tiny we thought it was nothing. We had bigger threats, bigger worries, even things we didn’t know existed. Hell I only recently learned there were even living planets trying to kill us.

But still, we should have known better, big things always have small beginnings, and this threat started out very small but became pretty fucking big. This thing I built, it’s one of our last weapons I can make against it, not that it would do any good. We call it the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council], not that anyone cares. We originally thought it was a small little water spirit but in reality, it was a big fucking parasite.

But not any parasite, it was a parasite that devoured entire worlds, it changes infects the water with itself mutating them into tiny but vicious creatures that swarm and kill all they see. Funny thing is, most were so tiny and easy to squish them. We realized too late that when they formed swarms they could tear an adult human apart. We were too focused on them that we didn’t see the bigger picture, it wasn’t just one place it was everywhere. The worst part is that we didn’t realize our water was infected until it was too late.

We established colonies in the solar system to escape but even our most outer reaching colonies were lost too. It didn’t just mutate bugs and plants but bacteria too, it created little monsters that ate people from the inside out. No one was safe so long as there was infected water.

Everyone and everything got wiped out so quickly because of that... I don’t know if anyone else is left, I just know my machines are still self-replicating and trying to kill as many of those freaks out there but honestly my resources are dwindling. Even putting aside, the materials I have left I don’t have much food either. I know I’m not going to live to see this end, and even if I could live longer there’s no way this shit will end so quickly.

So, if you're listening to this then that means my final plan didn’t work and your probably an alien or something trying to explore a dead planet. if you can understand my language or are smart enough to translate it, then get your friends and get out of here... But if any of you already drank the water then just stay here and find a way to die peacefully. But make sure no one ever comes looking for you and if they do, they know to stay away. All this thing needs is one drop of water, and it can mutate the wildlife of any planet it wants. I know you feel fine, and maybe you are, but if you value your species... you'll be willing to die and be forgotten for them.

But if you're not an alien but a human then my plan might have worked, unless your from my future in wich case we're still fucked... unless you somehow grew immunity to the water in which case more power to ya kid. Hope you become the adam of the new world and get yoruself an Eve... try not to fuck the world up like we did okay?

Though I'm really hoping your actually form the past because that means I really did save us. I was reviewing a file relating to something called SCP-AVM from this place called the SCP Foundation. Apparently, they were allies of the Global Occult Coalition but preferred to contain anomalies instead of just killing them. Very stupid idea if you ask me but I did hear they lasted the longest so they must have done something right. Anyways, when reviewing the file, I also found a document that talked about sending a signal that could send things back in time.

if I’m right then with the right frequency I can use what I got left to make a little time machine. I can send this little robot back in time and hopefully prevent any of this from happening. I’m still getting used to paratechnology and metaphysics so I’m not too sure how it all works right now but if my machines hold out long enough I can send this back and warn everyone to take out the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] before it grows large enough to kill us all and mutate our world.

So, if this really made it to the past and that’s who’s listening right now then takes these words to heart. You’ll know the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] when you see it, trust me. But when you see it, don’t fuck around this time, kill it. But you can’t just kill it in a normal way, there’s only one weapon that can kill them and it’s the Pikmin. I don’t know exactly what they are, but I have read lots of reports that they were the only thing that hurt it. So, if you find this Pikmin thing, use it and kill the damn [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council]. Because if you don’t everyone fucking dies. Your decision is Humanity’s only hope.”

Recording Ends

***

The O5 Council allowed Site Director Nancy James full custody of SCP-AEK and allowed her free reign in further experiments regarding SCP-AEK instances in response to the recording. If such a danger truly is coming and the SCP-AEK instances are the only means of destroying it then it must be done. Site Director Nancy James is to be allowed access to any further resources that can assist her and her SCP-AEK instances. 

“I just want to make it clear that I fucking called it! I knew the SCP-AEK instances were going to save the world one day! Though we still don’t know exactly when that day is, I'm at least glad to know that everything I’ve been doing so far is right on track! Whatever the hell this [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] is, I’ll make sure my little guys can take it out.” -Site Director James.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[davidmariottecomics]

Copyrights and Wrongs, Part 1

Hello there! 

Feels like it's been a bit since we last spoke, and I'm sorry for that. Two weekends ago, Becca and I were out of town (I'll share a little bit of that later) and then last weekend, I was just dealing with being really depressed and uninspired and I didn't want to just not write my blog, I didn't really want to do anything. I'm doing a bit better and am about to have a lot to talk about, probably for a few weeks (at least 2-3), so buckle up and get ready! This blog's a special one because appropriate for the time of year, it has HOMEWORK!!!

Also, as a head's up, this first part's going to be a bit shorter as Becca is at Cartoon-a Palooza starting this afternoon! More on that below too! 

What is Copyright? 

Copyright is both exactly what the name says and a much deeper, more complex thing. In a nutshell, it is the right to copy a creation. If you draw a piece of art, if you write a poem, if you design a machine or a building, if you compose music for a song, if you write a blog even (hehe!), under U.S. law, you are the owner of that work and other people can't use it without your permission. 

In more concrete terms, copyright is a form of intellectual property law that defines ownership and use of art under some pretty specific terms. The three biggest ones being: originality, creativity, and fixation. Originality asks if a work is original and unique. What that means is if you and your friend see a cool dog, and you both draw a picture of it, as long as your friend didn't just copy your exact picture, you both now have an original piece of work. Maybe the most commonly thought of example against originality is plagarism, where someone takes another person's written work and tries to pass it off as their own. Creativity is maybe the most nebulous term involved in determining copyright and often overlaps against originality, but should broadly be thought of as the work's intent and execution. Let's say you put together a Pintrest board of inspiration. It isn't meant to be a unique creation or piece of art unto itself, it's just a bit of reference. But if you printed all of the images from that Pintrest board out and collaged them into a piece of art, that would qualify as a creative effort. Finally, fixation refers to whether or not you actually made the thing in a trackable way. If I sing my cats a silly little song to announce their breakfast, but I never write that song down and it isn't ever recorded, it isn't fixed and there isn't proof that you've made the thing. However, if I shoot a TikTok of me singing that song to my cats, hey, I've got that record and I'm set. 

That's a very basic overview and, like I said, copyright is complicated. Being a set of laws revolving around ownership in a capitalist system, there're whole sections of the legal industry dedicated to arguing out and testing and defining the limits of copyright. The other really basic stuff you need to understand about copyright for the rest of this conversation are what you can do as a copyright holder, how long copyright lasts, and what "fair use" is.

Here it is from the horse's mouth--the U.S. Copyright office--but the rights a copyright holder has come down to reproduction, continuation, and distribution. You can make more of your work, either through copies or by creating more new work covered in part by your initial creation, and you can display it or sell it or perform it or otherwise make it available. As part of sale, you can also sell the copyright itself--transferring the ownership to someone else. A lot of comics is done with this step happening before the work is started as "work for hire." This basically says that if you're creating an image for a company that owns the copyright to, say, a character like Batman or property like Transformers, you understand that their copyright to the initial work of art supersedes that of the work you now produce for them, and in exchange, they're going to pay you for your creation and any rights that might otherwise be claimable with it. Not to say it too many times, but it's a complicated system and one that has a lot of very reasonable and righteous criticism lobbed at it. There's often a bit of a rub between copyright as protecting creators and copyright as protecting companies.  

Companies, for example, famously have been responsible for the expansion of copyright after the death of the author. Current U.S. law dictates copyright for modern creation lasts until the death of the author, plus 70 years. After that, works enter what we call the public domain (more on that in a sec). But just to really put that into perspective: Stephen King is still alive! And there is a distinct chance that his books won't be available until the 2100s under current copyright law. Or, rather, most of his books. If I did my math right, I believe Carrie will be available in 2069 because it actually pre-dates the current code! And this is further complicated by various other things--like work-for-hire creations and anonymous creations have different term limits, and we're reaching an interesting point where some original works are becoming public domain, but their derivative works are still copyrighted (like, say, Mickey Mouse. Steamboat Willie, the first Mickey short, will hit the public domain in 2024, but ALL OTHER MICKEY STUFF will still be under Disney). 

Which brings us back to public domain and fair use. To briefly tackle public domain first, it is the idea that after a copyright expires, that work is available to anyone to use as they please! You wanna tell a Dracula story? Do it! You wanna stage a Shakespeare play or adapt it into another medium? Do it! You wanna turn the Odyssey into a rock opera? Do it! Public domain says no rules, just right! Do it! It's a good idea to check what is in the public domain (Wikipedia linked as a starter) at any given point, just to see what may be available to you. This is going to be important in coming weeks. But everything in the public domain is fair use.

As are certain other things--if you're an Adobe subscriber and use photoshop, the software is copyrighted, but you've got fair use to use it, if you see a movie, the movie is copyrighted, but you've paid your money and have fair use to view it. There are certain limitations for research, education, and transformational uses too. I can't get into all the specifics, because they're varied and incredibly nuanced, but as a few examples: if Mad Magazine does a parody of X-Men called "Ecch-Men" or whatever (a thing they've definitely done), that's fair use--it's understood to be parody/satire and not the original work. If a textbook is publishing a historically significant photo, that may be under fair use. Posting a quote from a book on social media and in a locker room with or without proper attribution may be fair use (this is a real example). 

Okay, that's a lot to take in and we haven't even gotten to stuff like trademark, patent, or infringement. But hopefully that's enough of a primer that you'll feel confident in the coming weeks of conversation. 

Homework Time 

Toldja there'd be homework! So here's what we're going to be talking about over the next few weeks that you might wanna get yourself primed on too! 

First off - The Copyright office is conducting a study on generative AI and taking into account public opinion and information on it related specifically to copyright. Public comments are open until October 18th. I already submitted one--that I may reproduce in part or in full here--but if you are (rightfully) concerned about "A.I." as it currently exists and the many ways in which it is already violating copyright law, definitely take the time to share a comment! 

Secondly - You may've seen the news in the past 24 hours that Bill Willingham is releasing Fables into the public domain. I'm linking to the A.V. Club's article because well... you all know how I feel about Substack (and you may know how I feel about Willingham himself, which is to say, he sucks!). Next week, this'll be our first topic of discussion to see what that actually means. And please remember, I'm not an expert in copyright law, but I do wanna discuss it! 

Finally - No homework on this one, but the other thing we'll be talking about is digging a little bit deeper into work for hire and the complicated relationship between comics, artists, and licensed and unlicensed works. 

See ya next week! 

What I enjoyed this week(s): Blank Check (Podcast), Dungeons & Daddies (Podcast), Craig of the Creek (Cartoon), Honkai Star Rail (Video game), One Piece (Manga), One Piece (Live Action--I know there are some strong feelings on this take, but maybe we'll talk about that in a future blog), Birds of Prey #1 (Thompson, Romero, Bellaire - Comic), Blue Beetle #1 (Trujillo, Gutierrez, Quintanta - Comic), Shazam (Waid, Mora, Sanchez - Comic), Fire & Ice: Welcome to Smallville #1 (Starer, Bustos, Bonvillain - Comic), The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon (Book), Chainsaw Man (Manga), the Original McDonald's Museum. 

New Releases this week (9/13/2023): Sonic the Hedgehog #64 (Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog's 900th Adventure (Editor) 

Announcements: Becca is at Cartoon-a Palooza in Temecula on 9/15 & 9/16. It's a cool free all-ages little con, so come on out and see them! That's today and tomorrow at time of posting! They've got new stuff! 

Becca (and their letterer pal, Duke) has also got a new comic out! It's a short NSFW comic in Midnight Ouevres, the adult part of the Stellar Inflorescence Genshin Impact free zine! 

Wanna support me? Consider joining my Patreon!

I have a webstore! And I did, in fact, get a couple extra copies of Beast Wars Vol. 3! But check it out! Limited quantities on everything! 

I've still got a few things on my eBay, if you're looking for stuff! 

Pic of the Week: Becca and I were in Vegas a couple weekends ago, saw Weezer. It was fun. But on the way back, we stopped by the Original McDonald's Museum in San Bernadino! It's a fascinating little place, in the building that was built where the first McDonald's was before it was torn down and rebuilt to be a little theater. It's also not recognized by the McDonald's corporation because this is the location the founders kept for themselves when they ultimately sold the rest of the company to Ray Kroc. Anyway, so it's a funky little place with a lot of history and is full of toys and packaging and photos and outfits and this big Grimace suit with Becca! 

[roxyteal]

I have intentionally waited until April Fools was over to share something.

Let it be known that I have been very much off about when chapter 28 would be released. I appreciate the patience.

In hopes of alleviating the wait, I have decided to share a "mega" preview. Despite the name, it's very little in comparison to the entire thing, even as it is now.

Into the Keep Reading you go.

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 28: ALL THE THINGS WE MISSED

On one such occasion, it was to inform him that he’d hired someone on as a “repair technician”, as the Tarwill called it. “What for? My work is impeccable. There’s really no need for that.”

“I donno…” Viktor shrugged, tone nonchalant, “He made a pretty convincing case for himself. I couldn’t say no to his determination…” Then promptly wheezed in laughter.

“Hm. I’ll be the judge of that.” Quickly, he took Viktor by the arm, and teleported the both of them to the shuttle hangar. It caught The Webspace’s leader off-guard, who let out a sharp noise of surprise.

“For fuck sake, 1,” He tried to sound serious, but was moreso rattled, “Warn me next time. Jesus.”

“Ah, sorry,” 1 spoke sincerely, then added, “I want to test your determined little technician. If he is going to be looking after my devices, he must be nothing but the best.”

Viktor snorted. “Oh, he is alright. A well-made… Something. Absolutely.”

“You don’t sound like you mean it.” 1 was sighing.

“I know, I know. Hang on, I’ll call him.” Right after he’d done so, 1 could hear a new sound amidst the rest - footsteps that somehow managed to be more audible than everything else. As it got closer, it was accented in faint, motorized whirs. But both were in harmony, sophisticated, and intentional.

And then, a third person stopped in front of Viktor and 1, with perfect posture. A swift glance into his file revealed his name: BILLY.CS. He seemed promising, but appearances are not enough.

“Mr. Strobovski, sir,” He gave a nod of acknowledgement, “What is it you need of me?”

1 stifled a shudder. He reminded him of those films, with robots who act in subservient roles, before inevitably turning on Humankind. And Billy in particular came off as if he were Viktor’s personal

“Oh yeah! Forgot that part,” The Tarwill chuckled, “Billy, this is Dave #1, but he just prefers the number. He’s responsible for the things that you’ll repair. He wants to test you or whatever.” He nudged him. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Please don’t question my methods,” 1 dodged the inquiry, then turned to the android. “You believe you are fit for this role?”

“Correct,” His answer was prompt. Stoic. “Ever since I’ve been outmoded in the very thing I’m most skilled at, I have decided to take it upon myself to bear the responsibility of ensuring your inventions work as intended.” Oh. Oh wow. There was a little bite to this machine.

“Mm-hmm, how fascinating.” 1 tabbed to his toolbox, floated higher, then opened it and turned it over. Several construction pieces fell to the concrete floor, echoing and reverberating noisily throughout the hangar. He was sure at least one person turned to look, but what 1 truly noticed was Billy trying not to cringe from the decibels.

“1, cut that shit out!” Viktor was more vocal about it, though. For a second, 1 forgot he was there. “Do you want us to go deaf?!”

“Oops, no. I must’ve slipped,” 1 fibbed, returning to his side. “Anyway, your task is to successfully build one of my shuttles from scratch. You have by the end of the day.” He didn’t wait for a reply, starting to leave instead. At least, until Viktor stopped him.

“No no no, asshole. You’re staying to watch.”

If only 1 had a stopwatch running, for it must’ve been no more than ten minutes. Sitting atop the newly-built shuttle, the android bore a slightly smug expression. “‘But Billy,’ you might be asking, ‘How could you have known its specifications?’ Well 1, you see, I took the time to study all of your blueprints. It took me five seconds just for this one. And, perhaps it goes without saying, but my robotic mind allows for a flawless, photographic memory.”

1 couldn’t respond. Billy noticed his silence. “Now, unless you would either: prefer to maintain them yourself, or are certain you can find someone better suited for this job, I think your assessment of me is complete, and you will have no choice but to rely on me. It is the least I can do, to thank you for creating the house cubes.” His tone held an air of controlled confidence, layered within the flatness, but those last two words were tenser, as if there’d been a personal slight against him.

Billy got down from the shuttle, dusting himself off despite not being the least bit dirtied. “… Ah. I hope I haven’t spoken out of turn, Mr. Strobovski.” And on a dime, his demeanor returned to normal. Looking up at him, the Tarwill had a big, dumb grin on his face.

“What? Nah, you’re good,” He met eyes with 1. “Satisfied? You look impressed.”

God, he’d let himself lose his cool, and to this… Petty android. He straightened up. “Why, yes, of course. He may stay on-board. He sounds like he is capable.”

“Then, if there is nothing else, I will take my leave. Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Strobovski. 1.” Only at the mention of his name did Billy’s connotation shift. Then, his exit was precise, consistent with his previous movements. 1… Honestly hadn’t seen this whole situation coming.

When Billy was gone, Viktor let out a laugh, like it’d been restrained until now. “Isn't he a riot?!”

“More like a show-off. And quite spiteful.”

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

@magioffire continued from here

The strange creature's---never human, only 'it', only 'thing', only 'monster', there were no more humans left alive in this place---immediate insistence upon threats, that emergence into a consciousness as if the blackness of the mind had been burned away by the desire to fight, suffer, and perhaps even live was....admirable. SUCH INSTINCTS REQUIRED GUTS and few, if any, dared to bare them so ferociously at this particular Lord. Admirable and something else. Something deeper, more resonant....

"Well, well, well!! Listen to you, awake all of two minutes and you're already BEING A LITTLE SPITFIRE." There's a hint of bemusement in the grizzled monster's man's voice as he sets his notes aside---as if anything could compare to the thing laying prone at his feet---a quality which only emphasized the sharper undercurrent of danger wrapped tight around each and every word no matter how benign. When I say come you come. When I say stay you stay. When I say bleed you bleed. And heaven help you if you don't comply fast enough... "You're lucky that I like 'em feisty, it's no fun when they FALL APART SO QUICKLY." Heisenberg didn't conduct the heart of his experiments on living subjects, that was true, but the reaction he was seeing right now? That changed things.

This stranger's will to fight no matter how wounded; the immediate surge of venom upon waking---because no matter how weak and in pain the other looked on the floor of his factory Heisenberg knew the CURL OF A VIPER WHEN HE SAW ONE---that glimmer of fire in his eyes just waiting for the right kindling was...reflective...and that well and truly changed things. That click of the pieces already coming together in his mind was immediate and the Lord latches onto it with an undoubtedly enviable speed: That will was his, that venom was his, that fire was his, no matter how different their METHOD OF CONDUCTION. When I say I'll claw my way out of here I'll claw my way out no matter the damage. When I say I'll bleed to be let out of here I'll bleed no matter the pain. When I say I'll fight my way out of here I'll fight no matter the struggle. When I say I'll bite you I'll bite you no matter the risk and heaven help you if you don't pull away fast enough...

"You AREN'T GOING TO BEHAVE, are you?" Good. Disobedience only gave him an excuse to stoke that will, that venom, that fire, that the two of them seemed to share. Heisenberg extends his arm out to the side as he speaks; his gloved fingers open as if in waiting and then; quick as a flash and with an odd, teeth grating droning sound, a knife that had been stuck into a nearby wall jitters and then all but launches itself into his hand. His free hand then reaches to the opposite side and without even looking thumbs the button of the recorder down allowing a hissing noise to fill what little dead air the room they were occupying had left. "I'll be considering this a SPECIAL TEST SUBJECT; name: Valeriu. No cadou present within his system. Subject has an extreme aversion to the cold and---" There's a brief pause in speech as Heisenberg instead lunges forward and jams the long bladed knife he'd retrieved into the wound he'd created earlier and BEARS DOWN WITH HIS FULL WEIGHT FOR A FEW SECONDS---enough to earn a scream that makes his ears ring, enough to earn a scream that sought to drown out the loudest of his many machines---and then he wrenches it to the side and digs until he hears a distant snapping sound that could mean only one thing: the blade had broken. Leaving a piece inside---one deep enough that it'd be almost impossible to pull out---would be an interesting deterrent. A kind of dog tag, if you will.

The knife---or at least what remained of its blade a jagged ruin--is then pulled free and then tossed to the side carelessly. "----metal." God, he has to sneer his way around the word, with his weight still driving the other mercilessly into the stained concrete. The pressure causes more of that violet colored blood to emerge from the section of the wound that had barely begun to close over, with said liquid seeming to shine under direct light and then turn black as pitch when set against any of the red colored lights emitting from the next room.

"....More notes to follow." There's another brisk clicking sound as he turns the recorder off with an errant piece of metal capable of doing the job; considering his attention refused to tear itself away from his new subject, not even for a second. "I can make this process very, very, very easy for you Valeriu. Normally I don't do my experiments on living subjects---the cadou doesn't usually take, there's too many risks, blah blah, but for you...? For you I'm considering MAKING AN EXCEPTION and do you want to know why? Because you're interesting. Because I FOUND YOU FIRST BEFORE THAT ROTTEN BITCH COULD EVEN CLAP EYES ON YOU and I never give up what's mine---not without a fight, anyhow. So! Let's make things easy, shall we?"

The Lord shifts his weight then; rising in an oddly smooth most in spite of his size and the cramped room, with his fist balled into the other's dark hair. He pulls the other upward as he stands upright before unceremoniously slamming the other into a chair situated on the nearby wall with astonishing force and speed before leaning in just a little bit---just enough that the red light from the next room reflected off of his dark glasses, just enough that it showcased those all too white teeth of his now bared in a deranged grin. "YOU DON'T WANT TO BE THE EXCEPTION, do you? You're going to LISTEN TO ALL OF MY LITTLE DEMANDS and do what I tell you to do and then you'll see---we'll both see---just how long you stay together. Keep my interest, Valeriu, keep it because that's THE ONLY WAY YOU'RE WALKING OUT OF HERE." That will was his. That venom was his. That fire was his. No matter what all of it would be his.

[ancient-tree-with-deathwish]

for testing (and because i have nothing better to do) i'll use this to make a world rn

1A: the currency most commonly agreed among the people is syllables - specifically, syllables of the name of god, which have been scattered trough the world after the great iconoclasm

1B: approximately 23/25 people in this world live in what we would consider poverty. about half of them are slaves.

2A: the law is controlled by the principalities. unfortunately, divine legislature is physically impossible for a human to comprehend - so the punishments often seem random.

2B: there is no "outside", it is only the city.

2C: petty barons, princes, warlords and slave drivers are in constant squabbles over who gets what land (usually just over a street or two) - anyone who isn't caught up in their foolish power struggles realises that its all temporary anyway.

2D: war is brutal, frequent and foolish. technological disparities across the monumental area of the city means that a soldier is equally as likely to fight with a rock on a stick as with an anticausal reality eater.

3A: the city is everywhere, beneath you, above you, beside you. streets upon steets of 10,000 year old concrete. it doesn't have an edge, reality just stops at some point.

3B: we don't know how, but weather gets into the city's winding tunnels. mostly rain - sometimes snow further up. at the bottom of the city, the endless deluge of rainwater has submerged whole blocks.

3C: to the far north, the city has mainly eroded away. it's the only place the sun is visible - but the heat is oppressive, we can tell the sun is looking at us. to the south, the rain is the worst - reeds grow in the flooded streets. the east has been completely remoulded, trenches upon trenches fighting a stupid war - with no real reason to fight.

3D: throughout the city, occasionally - you'll see the fractured remains of god. they're a little weird to look at - as they are equally mind and flesh. but the alchemists love them, they use the stuff to create world breaking machines.

3E: it is said that people were once plentiful, it's a strange concept now. people are rare - rare enough. you can treck miles and miles trough abandoned streets before meeting someone. god can't just create people anymore, you see - so we're mostly reliant on alchemists to do that now.

4A: the few reliefs that we get here is music - a great many songs have been made since the iconoclasm, and strangely it's one of the few things that have gotten better since. i reckon it's because singing and dancing is a uniquely human thing - so the angels can't so it as well.

4B: people don't build things that often in the city - because it's already been built - usually pure concrete, in a brutally brutalist style. occasionally we make our own stuff - and despite the fact that we know it'll crumble or rot far before a dent is made in the original concrete, we think it looks nicer.

4C: time is strange here - we know it moves, we see it move - but whenever an up and coming alchemist gets the bright idea to measure it, it wriggles and stretches and warps to obscure any efficient means of timekeeping.

4E: life is rare in the city - you can sometimes catch a rat or scavenge some mushrooms or eat a fresh human corpse if you are very lucky. but for most people, the local alchemist has usually got some mystic contraption of other that creates fresh meat or wheat.

4F: nobody remembers the old commandments given to us by god. but there is a man made one that every single child has drilled thoroughly into their head - in these dismal times it is the one simple guiding light that stops the whole world from collapsing in on itself "don't be a bastard".

4G: an outfit is an important thing for someone to have - they are difficult to make, after all you need an alchemist to create the threads alone. so, clothes are haphazardly stitched together. people do not see this as a sign of ugliness though - it is a sign of experience, history and likely foolish bravery.

4H: approximately 400 years ago, there was the iconoclasm - where god fell from the heavens, dead. previously, he had been sustaining the world with his divine might - an eternal golden age - but it seems that the end of forever is drawing near. nowadays alchemists have to use the fractured shards of his body to replicate his miracles (such as creating people).

4I: food is rare, friends are equally uncommon. a cook's job is holy in a uniquely human way. and thus the rules of dining are simple - eat everything, and bring no hate or malice to diner. everything else is up to the chef to specify.

4J: every single town makes an effort to have a historian (often appointed by simply being the oldest) their job is simple and singular - ensure that nobody forgets the lessons of the past, while advising on how to avoid the nastier futures.

4K: unlike the world you know, the city never had a tower of babel - the languages of the world were never shuffled and confused amongst the people here, everyone speaks the same tongue from their very creation.

4L: in the city, there is a strange set of rules around pointing. usually, one should point with the index finger - which means "look here, something interesting". but each of the other fingers symbolises something too; the middle finger is danger, the ring finger conversely means something lifesaving - and all the pinkie finger means is that whatever it is, it's very far awway.

4M: manners are a virtually nonexistent concept throughout most of the city. certain wealthier nobles do have a more developed concept of politeness - but they rarely interact with the poorer folks, and whenever they do, the culture shock is enough to kill them.

4N: something unorthodox about the city are it's customs around greetings. it is common practice to draw one's weapons when meeting someone - it is currently unknown where this tradition began, but it fits the general consensus within the city that violence shouldn't stop people from being friendly (and vice versa).

4O: when god died, he didn't just disappear - he was fractured. most of these shards are fully dead, inert. but some parts managed to survive, these shards are confused and stressed - after all, they are only a fraction of what once was (mentally and physically). but even in this state, they remember their old duties - they have a responsibility to protect mankind. churches sprout around them, like deep sea creatures crowding around a hydrothermal vent.

4P: at the top of society are the prices/barons/warlords (they go by various titles) - they are usually just far enough away from the struggles of life that they forget this is a game of survival - not of glory. below them are the alchemists and priests - utilising the reality bending powers of god's corpse to sustain their domain. then just below them are the historians who keep the records and learn from the mistakes of the past. and finally below all of them are the peasants and slaves who must live die and work for the village at large to keep functioning. they may seem to be the weakest of them all - but they know that their master's power is nothing more than an illusion, an illusion that they maintain just enough to not fall into tyranny or anarchy.

5A: alchemy was a profession that began soon after the iconoclasm (perhaps their curiosity was a way to expel their dread?). they sought to understand the shards of god that dot the city - it was initially viewed as pointless (because the world was ending) but eventually, they discovered how to use the divine power to create more people and food. this lead to the current era, and the current art of alchemy.

5B: although it may seem mystical and esoteric to the unknowing, alchemists are sure to practice scientific rigour in all their experiments (mainly because it is very difficult to simply guesstimate things beyond mortal comprehension)

5C: the most common alchemical machine utilised by the people of the city is a genesis engine - it essentially automates the production of a human being, producing one every 5 years or so. it is possible to make them go faster, but they usually end up making strange useless things called "babies". another more... existential one is the anticausal reality eater, it simply stops someone from ever being created - removing them from history.

5D: alchemy is a complicated science, but there are 3 universal rules that have been discovered so far. 1 - the flow of time cannot be measured or altered. 2 - when it comes to god flesh, there is no difference between mind and matter. 3 - the laws of reality are only suggestions.

6C: most people do not have fancy advanced alchemical machines. the average technological level is somewhere around the medieval age of your world.

6D: disease is uncommon amongst the city, due to the absence of livestock and general low population - so on those rare occasions where an infection does spread, the people of the city have no defences. except for the plague doctors, they do not talk often, and they know the cures to the foulest of plagues. some madmen insist they originate from beyond the city, but the city has no "beyond".

6D: unfortunately, the best form of transport money can afford within the city are your own two legs.

WORLD BUILDING CHECKLIST

If you are writing a book/story that takes place in another world, I have provided for you the complete world building checklist to ensure that you know your world inside out.

Economy A. Currency B. Poverty rate/line

Government A. Crime & Legal System B. Foreign Relations C. Politics D. War

The Land A. Physical & Historical Features B. Climate C. Geography D. Natural Resources E. Population

Society & Culture A. Arts, Entertainment, & Recreation B. Architecture C. Calendar D. Daily Life. E. Diet F. Ethics & Values G. fashion & Dress H. History I. Dining Customs J. Education K. Language L. Gestures M. Manners N. Meeting & Greeting O. Religion & Philosophy P. Social organization

Magic A. Magicians B. Magic and science C. Magic & Technology D. Rules of Magic

Technology C. Technology D. Medicine D. Transportation & Communication you're welcome <3

Fell free to reblog and fill it out if you want. I am curious to see the worlds in my fellow writers heads.

Follow me @leisureflame for more posts like this!

[priyasinghi]

Applications of Foundation J Bolts & Foundation Bolts - Anchor Bolt Solutions

This article helps in understanding Foundation J bolts as, they are named after their unique "J" shape, which enhances their ability to anchor heavy objects securely. They are widely used in concrete structures for anchoring because of their curved hook, which makes them extremely durable and able to resist pulling forces. Here’s where they commonly shine:

Securing Steel Columns: One of the primary applications of J bolts is in securing steel columns to concrete foundations. The hook provides an extra layer of anchorage, ensuring that the bolts remain secure under stress and load.

Machinery Foundations: For heavy machinery, precise and secure anchoring is non-negotiable. Foundation J bolts are often used to anchor machines into concrete slabs, ensuring that vibrations and shifts do not compromise the equipment's stability.

Telecommunication Towers: The fast growth of communication technology means more towers are being erected globally. J bolts play a crucial role in ensuring these towers remain stable, especially in areas prone to high winds or other environmental stresses.

Light Poles and Street Lighting: Foundation J bolts are also used to secure light poles and street lights. These bolts ensure that the structure stands strong, even in adverse weather conditions like heavy winds or storms.

This article aslo helps in finding key difference between foundation bolts and foundation j bolts 

Shape: Foundation J bolts have a J-shaped design, while foundation bolts are typically straight.

Application: These bolts are commonly used in applications where the structure needs to be anchored to a concrete foundation. Foundation bolts, on the other hand, can be used with various foundation materials, including concrete, steel, and wood.

Installation: Foundation J bolts are inserted into the concrete and secured with a nut and bolt. Foundation bolts can be installed in different ways depending on the application and foundation material.

This article also highlights that proper installation is key to ensuring that foundation bolts perform as expected. Here are a few best practices:

Pre-Planning: Always ensure that the bolt holes are properly aligned before pouring concrete.

Anchor Depth: The deeper the bolt is embedded, the more secure the anchorage will be. Check manufacturer guidelines for the recommended embedment depth.

Use of Grout: Sometimes, grouting is needed to ensure there are no air gaps between the bolt and the concrete.

Torque Wrench: When tightening nuts on foundation bolts, use a torque wrench to ensure even tension across all bolts.

Foundation J bolts and foundation bolts are indispensable in many industries. Whether securing machinery, building towering structures, or ensuring infrastructure stability, these bolts offer reliability, strength, and versatility. Understanding their applications and advantages helps ensure your project’s success, no matter how big or small.

When you choose the right bolt for the job and follow proper installation procedures, you can trust that your structure will remain stable for years to come. So, whether you’re planning a new construction project or need a reliable anchor solution, foundation bolts will ensure your work stands the test of time.

This guide will equip you with the knowledge to take your garment construction skills to the next level and create clothes that look and feel truly professional.

Link

Applications of Foundation J Bolts & Foundation Bolts - Anchor Bolt Solutions

[mr-camhed]

Name: Dumpster

Age: 6.22 million years

Gender: male

Faction: Decepticon

Assigned Forces: Clearifycons

Role: Leader, interrogator

Motto: "The cleaner, prettier and lovelier a thing is, the happier, more comfortable and better I feel to destroy them. "

Personality: Dumpster is a very dowdy and messy bot, probably the messiest and dowdiest of them all. He is addicted to Destruction, and the only thing that can give him motivation is to shove things that are beautiful, lovely and pure, no matter It's a beautifully designed and maintained to be pristine vehicle, young and beautiful beings or priceless artifacts down his shredder and hear them get crushed, shredded and ground up into tiny, irrecognizable pieces or mush. Alternatively, dangling an enemy, especially an Autobot or some other enemies precariously over his grinding gear to interrogate information or to simply extort valuables out of them or just running over beautifully trimmed vegetation or clean infrastructure would also give him the incomparable sensation of joy. And he has gotten so addicted to the sensation of both the Destruction and the vibration out of grinding things up that if he doesn't got to destroy something with The grinder, it will make him feel is if he himself was shoved into his own implement of Destruction.

Alternate mode: Dumpster Transforms into a brown Freightliner 114SD With green side tipper Dumpster bed and a red heavy duty industrial Trash Shredder trailer permanently attached. The inside of The bed and The majority of the trailer section is coated in a thick coat of goop that is a mixture of grease, grime and other fluids and fragments that is what is described by some as "a cocktail of death", while the rest of his truck form is coated in grease, Dust and grime.

Appearance: Dumpster is around 15 meters tall and 5 meters wide. His transformation is similar to that of G1 Motormaster, although the entire shredder trailer would mostly just fold in half and directly becomes his robot mode upper torso. He also has 4 regular arms And the two Mechanical grabber arm on his should and a head sculpt similar to that of Beast Machine Blastcharge, and his entire torso is coated with the "cocktail of death".

Weaponry: Dumpster is extremely strong and durable, although he leaves much to be desired in the intelligence department. In both mode, Dumpster can accommodate things The size of Optimus Prime(although Prime himself is a different story) inside his shredder for Destruction; in truck mode, he is Rather fast and indestructible and is Capable of ramming through structures made of solid I-beam and reinforced concrete, although his handling is boat like at best. In robot mode, Dumpster can also use a double barrel shotgun/Grenade launcher loaded with the metal fragments he shredded as Projectile, and a pair of heavy caliber pistols. And as the leader of the Clearifycons, he becomes the torso and right leg of Stinkatron.

Character Biography: Dumpster of Darkmount was a cold constructed that was modified from a regular Transport truck unit to a "mobile disposal unit" under the demand of the Functionist council in secret after getting rid of Nova Prime and his companions and taking Power with a cowardice bot as the new Prime and figurehead of the Senate (Nominus Prime) as their puppet, although the test on the chassis would prove unsatisfactory and they would instead use harvester drone units based on The design used by Quintesson to harvest sparks for Cogless laborers and materials for their terrorcon drones; while Dumpster was relegated to the Kaon Sanitation Department, where he would spend his time disposing garbage, or unwanted for the Senate's Corrupted element and evidence of the Criminal Underworld.

However, he would also get into connection with the Decepticon movement by the proxy of his other coworkers of the Sanitation Department where he would help in their interrogation of the Senate Security member fastback and Subsea, alongside Corrupted Kaon Police officer Barricade when they were caught spying on Megatron and the underground Gladiator ring, where Fastback and subsea would be killed by Barricade as a rite of entrance before the corpses were disposed of by Dumpster. And Afterwards, Dumpster would also begin doing the dirty works for Megatron and his Decepticons alongside his colleagues Sewer, Sweepvan and Grassflyer, and by the time of Kaon Riots, he would kidnap his Supervisor Stratum and force him to join the Decepticons alongside his compadres as infiltrators in early stages of planetary invasion during the great war.

Weakness: Dumpster's aversion to Cleaning and maintenance means that he is not only prone to jamming of his Mechanical parts individually, but also weaker in connection to his teammates in combiner form. It also makes others that aren't His teammate prone to aversion of him. He is also surprisingly east to crack against enemy pressure, and would not persist in combat or hold secret should situation seem disadvantageous to him.

Commentary: he originally had a crusher in the dump bed, then I found out how big those things are.

[researchrealmblog]

AutoML is Better than Hand Coding, here are Some of the Reasons

AutoML tools allow organizations to rapidly, precisely and reliably develop and apply machine learning models at scale across their processes for addressing practical issues instead of relying exclusively on hand-code models.

AutoML automates all the tasks involved in evolving and deploying ML models, from cleaning the raw data to parameter optimization.

Along with making data scientists more productive, AutoML tools can be used by rookies to arrive at the optimal AI model. Contrast that situation with a data scientist hand coding for creating a data pipeline, build the model, do all the testing and run the dataset with some algorithms.

Benefits of AutoML over Hand Coding                

Not Much Time is Taken

This is a prime benefit for organizations, which are more focused on the value of an AI model, such as how long it takes to create it for determining ROI and the working efficiency or net revenue increase.

Hand code models, may be overly focused on the journey for evolving and the experiments made, while an entrepreneur may only be interested in outcomes and the insights produced by the AI model. Automation might also offer a way to define when an AI model is good for deployment, against the same valuation made by a programmer.

Faster Scaling is Possible

This goes hand in hand with the less time taken in a way to produce precise models as rapidly as possible. Automation allows scaling from 2 hand-coded models to thousands of AutoML models. Human errors can be reduced or removed with automation that may take place during manual data modeling.

 Unmatched Operational Excellence

AutoML tools permit standardization and constancy into the generation of AI models. For example, if a data scientist leaves an organization which has accepted AutoML, there is no need of reinterpretation of the previous hand-coded models.  The replacement just has to apply or retrain on AutoML. An AutoML functions as an inordinate system of record, a central repository where employees can work together on models and understand results.

Democratizing AI 

AutoML can allow the generation of models in a safe manner that inserts standard data science finest practices into the models. There is no need to depend on their data scientist to create models. AutoML can help a company to dig out data science for more and more users and make AI additionally mainstream.

With organizations becoming convinced of these benefits, there is a widespread acceptance of AutoML. There is already good consensus about the functionality of AutoML, irrespective of whether they are from the big names of the market or from the new entrants.

Coming to a Concrete Conclusion           

It is because of the increasing requirement for effective fraud detection solutions, and increased requirements for personalized product recommendations, the demand for automated ML solutions is growing all across the globe. The value of the industry will reach USD 15,499.3 million by the end of this decade.

[kudosmyhero]

Detective Comics (vol. 1) #571: Fear for $ale

Read Date: July 14, 2023 Cover Date: February 1987 ● Writer: Mike W. Barr ● Penciler: Alan Davis ● Inker: Paul Neary ● Colorist: Adrienne Roy ● Letterer: John Workman ● Editor: Dennis O'Neil ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd attend a racetrack. Bruce explains that there have been several recent accidents involving major sports figures. A famous high-diver nearly broke his back attempting a stunt no one has ever done before, and a famous hang-glider died swooping too low. The athletes were too good to make those mistakes, and he believes this can't be a coincidence. They notice a driver named Jack Hogan is taking dangerous chances and not wearing his safety harness. Bruce and Jason switch into costume as Batman and Robin. Hogan gets into a fiery car-wreck. Batman has Robin hose him down while he runs directly into the blaze and drags Hogan out. Hogan survives and is taken to the hospital, but shows no signs of regret for his actions.

Later in the Batcave, Batman runs tests on Hogan's blood and discovers traces of Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. Alfred supplies Batman with a new costume that isn't on fire and they swing out into the night again.

Robin waits at the hospital for Scarecrow to show up. Scarecrow arrives to extort Hogan for money. It's explained that Scarecrow's new toxin actually eliminates fear from the brain. He's been tricking athletes into buying it as a performance enhancer, and then charging $50,000 when they beg him for the antidote. Robin swoops in to attack Scarecrow, but Scarecrow hits him with a dose of the standard Fear Toxin. Robin hallucinates a vision of Batman dying, which allows Scarecrow to kidnap him in a sack. Scarecrow dares Hogan to see if he can survive leaping out the window, and Hogan happily jumps to his death.

Scarecrow's next intended victim is a daredevil named Alvin Kenner. He quickly deduces that Batman is disguised as Kenner and shoots him full of drugged darts. Scarecrow leaves Batman lying on the floor with a clue to where he's holding Robin. Batman wakes up under the influence of Scarecrow's new drug, which makes him fearless and over-confident.

Batman deduces that Scarecrow is holding Robin at a factory called Atlas Concrete. Scarecrow makes him run through a series of deadly traps. Batman struggles to keep himself under control, as the drug makes him want to ignore danger and show off. He slips through a series of trucks sent to run him over, and makes it inside the warehouse by blowing up a metal grinder with his Utility Belt. In the hallway, a rolling wheel covered in spikes chases him into a pit. When he dives into the water below, machine guns appear out of the walls and fire for ten minutes straight. Scarecrow brags to Robin that Batman must be either shot dead or drowned, since nobody could survive 10 minutes underwater. Batman bursts through the door. Scarecrow asks how he possibly could have survived, and Batman says "you'll never know" then knocks him out with one pounch. Batman explains to Robin that he trapped some air in the folds of his cape and used it to breathe underwater for 10 minutes. Robin asks how Batman could have overcome the effects of Scarecrow's drug, and Batman explains that he replaced the missing fears with the greatest fear he could imagine. Robin asks what this was, and Batman says "maybe someday I'll tell you." In Batman's mind we see he was imagining Robin's tombstone.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Vol_1_571)

Fan Art: the scarecrow by dominuself

Accompanying Podcast: ● Batman Knightcast - episode 09

[acestories]

Arc 1; Chapter 1

In some ways the world hasn’t changed; Karens still scream at grocery store clerks for no reason, Douchebags think they own the roads, and the sun continues to rise every morning. But, it’s definitely changed; people fly through the air on their own, a car mechanic lifts the car he’s working on with his bare hand, and a thief outruns a squad of police cars.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. 2020 was terrible already, but as if that wasn’t enough, it had one last fucking piece of shit to throw in our faces. Christmas night, there was a violet star in the sky. By new years eve, it had become a sun. By new years day, a violet mist that brought with it plague, one with a 10% mortality rate, and the rich and powerful hid themselves away from it. As they always did.

But as it turned out, ⅕ of those who survived it got what could only be called Superpowers. And very few of the rich and powerful got Superpowers. The inevitable started to happen.

And where do I fit into all of this? Well, I'm the ñonbinary cat boy waiting for their take out to be ready. What? Just because I got Superpowers doesn't mean I don't want tacos. And these guys make a gochujang teriyaki sauce that is to die for. And I'm not gonna let some random ass fuck wad villain destroy this place, I can't recreate the sauce!

The villain (who I think called himself Syndrome or some shit like that, I can't remember) charged at me, fist raised high. I'm able to dodge at the last minute, the concrete street corner shattering as it took the blow, which when combined with my latest bruises, are enough to tell me that this guy has one of those god damn Escalating Strength powers in addition to the basic stuff.

Gotta take them out fast, before they start punching Blackholes or something. I think someone could do that.

The villain starts monologuing; ooooooh, his name is "Symptom." That's actually kinda cool I gotta admit. Regardless, thank fuck this guy is long winded. Or really into L.A.R.P.ing. Doesn't matter now though; I charge at him with the speed of a bullet and unleash a flurry of blows. After a few seconds of what sounds like a machine gun going off, he starts to fall backwards, a look of surprise on his big stupid, neck-bearded face.

Heh, I caught him Monologuing. Guess that makes me a sly cat instead of a sly dog. :D

Oh yeah, the cat parts. While only ⅕ of survivors got super powers, over half of survivors got "fantasy bits." I got turned into a cat boy, but I've seen people with other things. Someone I went to high-school with got turned into an Orc.

Oh, and these things aren't a package deal, but there is enough overlap that it's testing fate to make a cat girl angry. So the Boomer who's screaming and making threats at me for not saving his car is either really brave or really stupid. I'm betting on the latter.

CRACK!

Shit, wasn't paying attention! Mmm, that's gonna smart tomorrow. I stumble to stay standing, looking for who hit me. Dammit, my vision is still blurry.

POW!

Again, but from the other side. This time though, I'm able to recover faster, and I see a trail of dust kicked up by a wind. Great, a speedster.

Dick wads didn't just get standard stuff, they get to be stupid fast. Faster than even I can see. But, based on the fact that I didn't explode, safe to assume that they're not too much stronger than I. Probably not much tougher either.

I suppose I should explain myself, huh? So, almost every super is significantly stronger, tougher, and faster than they were before, with heightened senses to boot. Most can lift one end of a car. I'm one of the ones that can kill a building. We don't got any Supermans or Omnimans, but we got some guys who're way the fuck up there.

But after the basic stuff, lots of people also got other powers, some coming into them easier than others. Symptom from earlier got Escalating Strength, which makes him stronger the longer he fights, but not tougher or faster (no, I don't know how it works exactly). Our new friend is a Speedster, so they get to move at Mach speeds (or close to it).

But now that I know what to look for, I can look and hear for them. And with my Cat Ears, I'm really good at hearing them tear through the atmosphere. They might be faster than sound, but the air sure as shit isn't. As they come towards me, I fly 30 m (100 in freedom units) up into the air, the Speedster's momentum carrying them past where I was.

Yeah, I got flight. Which is also pretty common, and lots of people make it work. I can't. I can jump up to this high, and after that I can fall with style. If I try to actually fly, I become a hazard to everything around me. Aside from knowing you guys are there, the only other power I know I have is Laser Eyes. And the only time I've used that, I destroyed my bed and first print Power 9 mtg cards! Those are worth $165,100!

As I drift down, I can see the Speedster trying to get her bearings. Well, she's practically where I was, and I can make myself come down really fucking hard. Choosing occam's razor, I bring myself down to the ground. Hard. Hard enough that the Speedster is now a good couple inches in the pavement.

I stand up, keeping my foot down on her head. After a minute or so, I felt confident in assuming she was down. Long enough that I can try to tie her up for the cops. And tie up Symptom. And actual–

"Oh, thank you señior!" I turn around to see the old Latino lady who took my order running up to me. Before I can process this, she glomps me in a bear hug.

"Uh, you're welcome. If you don't mind me asking, what did I do?"

"You saved us." This time, I turn to the Old Japanese man who cooks in the kitchen walking up to me, but picking up a bag I hadn't realized the Speedster had dropped before also hugging me. "The fast one stole from us while you were busy. You're a true hero."

"I'm not a hero. I was only here for tacos."

From the face pressed into my chest came "No, you were the only one here, and you helped. That makes you a hero."

I tried to form a response, but a slight rustling brought my attention, not to the store, but to the hole in an apartment above it. To a family. Their family. Their grandchildren.

As what I just did begins to really sink in, a young teenager comes up to me carrying a bag of styrofoam boxes. "But I only ordered one thing of tacos…" is all I can say weakly.

"The rest is our thanks." The only response I can think of is tears.

[katelynn-a-fan]

Crackle of Your Voice Chapter 11

Masterlist

Patton's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles aching from the relentless assault. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding a swipe from the Roman's steel-clad arm. The robot's movements were fluid and precise, its red and gold plating catching the dim light in a blaze of metallic brilliance. Each clang of their struggle reverberated through the underground chamber, an arena of steel and concrete.

"Come on, Roman! Stop holding back!" Patton shouted, his voice edged with desperation. He ducked under another swing, rolling to his feet and lunging forward with a swift kick.

Roman paused, his head swiveling toward Patton with an eerie smoothness. "I am programmed to follow my directives," he intoned, his voice a deep, resonant timbre that echoed through the chamber. "But you should know better than to test my limits."

Patton's eyes narrowed. He could see the determination in the Roman’s mechanical eyes, the hint of a decision being made beyond his programming. Where the real Roman was. Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the grime of the battle..

Suddenly, the Roman paused, his systems stuttering as if processing something beyond the usual. "You know," he said, he voice taking on a more deliberate and desperate tone, "calling me Roman in this context-"

"Just focus!" Patton snapped, desperately trying to regain control of the mock fight. That before his eyes widened and he dropped his sword, it clattering to the ground noisily.

But it was too late. From the shadows above them emerged a figure clad in a sleek, dark uniform. The Leader. His face was obscured by a high-tech visor this time, but his presence radiated authority. The Leader's eyes iif they could be called that glowed faintly through the visor, fixating on Patton with a piercing intensity.

"So, Patton," The Leader's voice was calm but laced with a dangerous edge, "it appears you've made a significant oversight."

Patton’s heart sank. He had been trying to avoid this confrontation, knowing full well the consequences of revealing the Roman’s sentience. He had hoped to find a way to break Roman’s control without exposing everything, but now The Leader had the upper hand.

Roman stood motionless, his gaze shifting between Patton and The Leader. His expression of pure devastation had Patton’s heart shattering to the ground from his mistake.

The Leader stepped closer, his visor reflecting the dim light of the chamber. "It seems you have given yourself away, Patton. This… Roman has become more than a machine. It has named itself, which implies it is self-aware. And you-" he pointed a gloved finger at Patton, "you are aware of this sentience."

Patton clenched his fists, his gaze defiant. "Roman's more than just a robot. He's evolved beyond your control."

The Leader’s lips curled into a smile, though it was a smile devoid of warmth. "Are you really sure about that?."

Roman's processors whirred softly, his internal systems grappling with the implications of what was happening.

“What do you mean?” Roman finally said. 

The Leader's smile widened. "You’ve given me a reason to reassess my strategies. The Roman's self-awareness is a threat, and Patton, you are now an accessory to that threat. I believe our next steps will require... adjustment."

The arena fell silent, the tension almost palpable. Patton’s heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation. The Leader’s intentions were clear: Roman’s newfound sentience made him a target, and Patton was now a part of the Leader’s ire too. Just like they had feared.

"Roman," Patton said, his voice filled with a mix of resolve and sorrow, "we need to find a way out of this. Together."

The Roman’s eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing through its artificial consciousness. "Of course.."

The Leader’s voice cut through the silence. "Oh, how sweet, the robot and the gladiator are teaming up.”

He produced a remote-like device from his pocket before he continued. 

“How about instead-”

The Leader pressed a button on the device. 

Roman’s body violently jerked for a moment, dropping his sword to the ground as well.

The Leader’s expression grew into a wide grin “-we give these people a real show!”