#connor/locust

[fuckmemurderman]

Grinner moments that are fucking wrecking me right now in no particular chronological order:

When Connor is abducted and separated from Locust but is so in tune with him that he can sense how close he is and uses that to orchestrate his escape

Challenging Death

The rest of Locust's species making cameo appearances and scaring the shit out of Connor

"I won't kid myself by saying I'm a hero or even a vigilante. I have to kill them or they'll go on to do worse things. How I feel about it is irrelevant, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it."

Locust wiping an entire settlement off the map that one time

[donttouchmeimwriting]

I don't think I created Locust with the intention of making him the most romantic monster there ever was and yet here we are with him stroking Connor's hair like a pet and calling him "my love" in every conversation

[treason-and-plot]

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ♥♥♥

Sorry this has been languishing in my inbox for so long but I was devoid of inspiration- but I finally have a (new) Sim I would like to answer this for! Her name is Hil (short for Hilary) Hawkins.

Hil's pronouns are she/ her

She is employed as a gardener by Connor's parents.

Gardening is Hil's lifelong passion and also her sanity.

Hil's hero is Vita Sackville-West and the garden she created at Sissinghurst (below)

Her favourite gardening hack is to burn incense sticks every full moon to placate Erra, ancient god of pestilence. If you do this you will never have to worry about hordes of locusts destroying your roses or rats eating the heads off your dahlias ever again! (it's also an effective deterrent against the bubonic plague, smallpox, cholera, and zombie apocalypses.)

[tavtiers]

analyze a Mage of Doom please?

The Mage of Doom [symbols: brain, skull]

The Mage class has its basis in the classic court magician. An example would be Merlin from Arthurian Legend.

The Doom aspect’s main theme is caution. You can find its official description here.

A Mage of Doom is among those who explore energy to influence. This is the “classpect group” they belong to. Members include: the Mage, Seer, Heir, and Witch of Life/Doom. These classes are all opposites or inverses of each other that explore the Life/Doom dichotomy (energy to influence). A description of classpect groupings can be found here.

The Mage of Doom actively knows the Doom aspect. Active classes tell themselves what to do and do so for their own benefit. They are more likely to stand up for themselves, but more likely to be cruel. Mages and Seers possess great knowledge of their aspect and everything it symbolizes. Simplified, the Mage of Doom is motivated by themselves to know caution.

In personality, the Mage of Doom has trouble forgiving their own mistakes and hates confrontation. Personality descriptions can be found here.

Their archetype is the Genius Defender, defined by introspection and caution. Archetypes are explained here.

Their opposite is the Seer of Life, who passively knows growth.

Their inverse is the Heir of Life, who passively manipulates growth.

A classpect or “god tier” is an individual’s best self. All classpects go through a journey from unrealized, to struggle, to realized. When a character is unrealized, they neutrally exist as their inverse. On their struggle, they will wildly flip back and forth between their inverse and true classpect. In their worst moments they will act as their inverse, in their best their true classpect. When realized, they will stabilize as their true classpect. They will still have room to grow, but will become happier, more successful people.

This means that the Mage of Doom begins life motivated by others to manipulate growth. When their struggle arrives and they are at their worst, they will continue this behavior in negative extremes. However, when at their best, they will find purpose in instead knowing caution for themselves. When realized, they will stabilize and continue to know the Doom aspect actively, in a positive way.

They share their archetype with the Knight of Mind, the Defender Genius.

The Mage of Doom would quest on a planet similar to the Land of Thought [Mage] and Doom [Aspect]. An example would be the Land of Dreams and Undead. An explanation of planet naming conventions can be found here.

Two possible gods, or denizens, to reign over their planet would be Hades (God of the Underworld) or Persephone (Dual Goddess of Spring Growth and Decay). Other Doom aspect denizens can be found here.

When the Mage of Doom completes their planet quests and dies on their quest bed, they would rise to ascension on the wings of locusts (symbols of plague). A list of soul animals can be found here.

The characters that I have currently classpected as Mages of Doom are: Sollux Captor from Homestuck [canon example], Connor Guerrin from Dragon Age, Felix Alexius from Dragon Age, Scarecrow from Batman, and Jack Godell from The China Syndrome.

If any of the links not connected to my blog break, the content can be found on my Google Drive.

Official Aspect Descriptions

Personality Descriptions

Aspect Denizens

[crayzkrypto]

Kat's Basic Introduction:

Name: Aether/Kryptopath/Nightmare

Nicknames: K/Kat/Kry/Ace/Reaper/Night/Ari/Aries

Age Range: 16/17

Taken: By my Boyfriend, Crayzkato/Kato! <3 Him ^ ^

How short am I?: I'm 5'1-5'2 TvT

Gender: Male + Non-Binary & Genderfluid

Pronouns: He/Xe/Xyr/They/It (Got an issue with neopronouns? Okay, L, get over it bozo, it's just a pronoun,)

Zodiac: ♐ Sagittarius (🔥 symbol)

Sexuality: Biromantic, Polyamorous, Demiromantic, Demisexual, and, Aroaceflux.

Main Fandoms/Interests & Stuff I watch: Lunime (Obvi), Wings Of Fire, Warrior Cats, Httyd, Genshin, Minecraft, ARK, Subnautica, FNAF (I have played a majority of the games, and know the lore a decent bit), Undertale, Harry Potter, Raptor Red, Fairy Tail (Anime), Tokyo Ghoul (Anime), Demonslayer (Anime), Attack On Titan (Anime), Avatar The Last Airbender (Anime), Bleach (Anime), MHA (Anime), Inyuasha (Anime), Vampire Knight (Anime), Pokémon (All the games except up to scarlet and violet, I have played. I've also watched all the Animes and movies.), Jurassic park/world franchise, etc,

Bands/artists I listen to:

Ac/dc, three days grace, Linkin Park, twenty one pilots, Cavetown, Mitchel Dae, Alan walker, marshmallow, cold play, the chainsmokers, Eminem, juice wrld, blackbear, onerepublic, owl city, bohnes, 5 seconds of summer, maroon 5, fallout boy, Panic! At the disco, disturbed, tobu, elektronomia, Vicetone, noisestorm, wheathers, Enhypen, seether, SIXXAM, thousand foot krutch, my chemical romance, stileto, rebzyx, AVIVA, Silent child, Voilá, Imagine Dragons, kordhell, the weekend, layto, neoni, theory if a Deadman, avenged sevenfold, five finger death punch, skillet, AJR, boywithuke, moon deity, cxvxlry, dxrk, post Malone, Christian gates, ragnboneman, system of a down, Sam tinnesz, rise against, interworld, Connor Kaufman, Khalid, And there's a lot more.

Hobbies: Art, gaming, writing, poetry, botany (plant growing), caring for my cats, making Vids, making music, making games, animating stuff, coding, etc.

Pets: Artemis (Cat), Loki (Cat), Cloud (Chicken/Rooster),

Pets I used to have:

Milo (An orange tabby cat named after Milo from Milo and Odus)

Snow (An Albino siamese cat, who was blind, died of a respitory cold of some sort, will miss him.)

Buttercup (A Stray tortoiseshell cat I befriended when younger, she has since vanished,)

Redwood (American Toad, she died one night randomly.)

Verden (Green Locust, she lived a happy and full life for a locust, ^ ^)

Octavia (Wolf Spider,)

Iridescent (A California Pipevine swallowtail butterfly I cared for after I found her struggling to fly in a parking lot, most likely cause was a car, as a lower wing was badly torn. Poor thing, she lived the rest of her time without more pain, and trusted me enough to pet areas that were not her wings, and to handle her.) (fun fact, Pipevine swallowtails are one of the world's deadliest butterflies, apparently due to them eating Pipevine plants as a caterpillar. Just be careful not to touch the wing power and you'll be good though, just remember to wash hands if you can after handling one just incase, however. )

Dark (Mouse)

Gem (Mouse)

Wof Sona: Aries, and many more wof sonas (I have like, twenty.)

Aries-

Fictionsonas: Kat or Kryptopath

Kat-

Kat the crystal child, who freezes people. ^ ^

Kat also has a high concentration of magic in his body, and can create blue flames, use dark soul magic, absorb energy from souls, or steal life force on similar terms to absorbing one's soul; only it's bit by bit, and the person is alive.

He's not particularly aggressive, just don't get on his bad side. Do the wrong thing, and you'll be saying farewell.

Kryptopath-

And now for a dozen Kry variants.

Main Sona (Also my first ever oc): Midnight/Night

Trigger warning for DNI list, bc mention of sensitive stuff !

Basic DNIs:

Homophobic ppl

Transphobes

Ableists

Sexists

"far right" people

Hypocritical ppl

Toxic ppl

Pedos

Zoophiles

MAPs

Classists

Racists

People who can't respect simple boundaries.

Proshippers of any kind

Ppl who are 12 or younger.

Anyone who is a "ultimate fan" of the Lunime ship "Cykophan" (If you come at me for hating the proship, I will block you. Sorry ! ), DNI.

People DNI list:

* Lithium (Shitty person)

* Roze (Even shittier person)

* Aida (Also a pretty toxic person) (These 3 went out of their way to make up crap that wasn't even true about me, for no reason other than to start shit it seems, I thought they were WAY more mature than that, too. People are surprising, People's behavior and immaturity never ceases to amaze me sometimes I swear. 💀)

* Injigo (I think this one's pretty fucking obvious. Injigo, kindly stay far away from me, harass me on anything, and I Will be blocking you. You are the definition of EW.)

* Charactery (I was in fact groomed by this asshole, and also dated him at one point unfortunately, I was 15 around that time. He also manipulated me with alts, and tricked me into defending him with said alt accounts, as well.)

* Mari/"djphantomxcykopath" (No, 10thousand TIMES Over and over again, NOPE! STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MEEEE !) (Really bigoted, let's pedos into places with minors, showed nsfw art of a 7 y/o CHILD in my dms randomly and without warning and without spoiler before I blocked her on discord!) (defending Transphobes, racists, pedophiles, etc.)

* Poppy/Lilith/BlueVioletsGACHA (Pedo, groomer, groomed me, sent overly sexual stuff in my dms on discord despite me telling her to stop, racism, and more!)

* Asher (Racism & Ableism, also treated me like dogshit.)

* Kae/Kit (Zoophilia, was once identifying as a "MAP", was romantically attracted to toddlers she was babysitting, racism, borderline homophobia, borderline ableism, defending pedos and zoophilia, defending h/tl/r. And more...)

* Hunter (Formerly SeanIsAlone on Fandom) (Got upset over a 'mean lesbian' flag bc lesbians who hate men, idk why you'd get mad over that, esp since your trans masc?)

* Axo/Kstar (Racism, homophobia, Transphobia, ableism, bigotry, misgendered ppl constantly, spreading misinformation abt others, lying abt age big time, and more,)

* Enes (Racism)

* Wolfie

* Miijovie

* Shizu

* Naomi

* Revon/Malefor

* Rae/Rye

* Abyss/lost one/Abysskeeper/darkness ( Toxic bitch. Who said herself she sees people as toys and "chips in the game" and saying she "sees the world in red" implying age likes violence and hurting others to get what she wants, too, in fact she also said she'll hurt others to get what she wants before. Defending a racist/Transphobe/homophobe, very rude and problematic in general.)

* Fiore

* Tallie

* Radical Green (Go back to your bridge, troll.)

* AnimeMinecraftfan

Other DNIs:

* Netherite/Claydouh

* Dragonthereborn

* Aprilsilverwolf

* Trixity

-Art status-

Fanart Requests: Tentative

Commissions: Open

Requests: Very Tentative

Art Trades: Closed

Artfight Revenges: Tentative/IDK (As I am not going to have internet for a month or so, so I may not be able to even join this year's artfight.)

Socials:

Tiktok- neon_lunatic (×XNorthern~AetherX× as the display name,)

DeviantArt- xXKryptopathXx

Youtube- neon_lunatic (display name as xXKryptopathXx,)

Artfight- XxXNorthern_SystixXxX

Scratch- LightsOutLunar

Toyhouse- XxXNorthern_SystixXxX

Amino- xXKryptopathXx

Reality- Kryptopath

Spotify- xXKryptopathXx (KZO Band Member)

Fandom- Radioactivatian, or alt; xXKryptopathXx

Roblox- xXKryptopathXx (wingsofark10156)

Tumblr (aka on here)- crayzkrypto

Xbox Tag: ARKDinolove

Cashapp User: $Kryptopath

Thas all for nowww,

FYI Imma be moving to new house soon, prob today! I will not have internet for a month or so unfortunately!

[seafriendsandmore]

Conohan ★★★★★

AKA Conny, Cole, Connor

Military Faction - [???]

Skill Kit

Melee - Front/Middle

Rarity: ★★★★★

• It always seems like he’s dozing off somewhere when he’s in sight - but when he’s awake, it’s as though he completely disappears.

• Quick Slash (Main) - Deal high damage to a selected enemy (low chance to trigger a chain that can travel to adjacent enemies and deal medium damage)

• Combo Strike (sub) - Hits random enemies 6-8 times - 1 guaranteed critical hit on selected enemy - 8th is a guaranteed random critical hit - 2 turn cooldown

• Step Back (Sub) - Increases dodging by a great amount for the next 2 turns + passive (if an attack lands, Cole will launch a quick counterattack that will do some damage) - 2 turn cooldown

• Power nap (sub) - Conohan becomes inactive for a turn but this removes 1 turn from his cooldown on his Ult.

Up and At ‘Em - Conohan is now temporarily energized, damage doubles and cooldowns are negated on all skills (except ult) + passive - has a chance to land double hits with any attack and critical hit chance is up +75% — lasts for 3 turns - 7 turn cooldown

“Just 30 more minutes… “

“Hmm…? ask me later… Very busy…”

“Zzzzz….”

A mysterious figure at the military where little is known about not only his past but his present as well. He’s rumored to turn invisible when he’s not sleeping but who’s to say he’s not just sleeping out of sight? People speculate he’s a combat slave of someone very high up but no one knows for sure. He’s always asleep or so aloof when someone does manage to wake him up that no useful information can be learned through conversations. Curious.

Chance Encounters

[???] On rare occasions when you reach edges of the [Military Base] map that is available to you in your current stage, you'll encounter a uniformed rabbit.

“…huh? This place is off-limits. Please turn back now.”

“Hm? …you're not allowed back here…”

“Without a pass you cannot continue this way.”

“You are trespassing.”

“Another person… Huh… you? You can’t come this way.”

“…yawn.”

“Sigh… this isn’t really my duty…”

“I’m tired… standing guard isn’t my forte…”

“Why are you here?”

[Conohan] A sleepy rabbit that seems to be more keen on disappearing off somewhat to take naps rather than fulfill his duties. Little to nothing is known about him outside of this and it’s even harder to find him.

“…you found me.”

“zzz…”

[yawn]

[He seems uninterested in speaking]

“Huh… you’re here?”

063

…why are you asking me about her…? She’s the last person I want to see right now…

What..? Why would I know where she is… it’s always the other way around.

Octogirl

She helps me sometimes, with napping. Keeps the dog away.

You’ve met her? Good for you..? What do you want me to say…

Kleffe

Makes a lot of noise…

Always falling over. One time she broke a support beam and I nearly fell through the ceiling… I can’t sleep with her around…

Eine

? She says weird things.

I feel like she’s trying to pry… annoying, really… talk with her if you want, I’m not interested.

Mimi

Quiet. Not bad.

I never interact with them. Why?

Orca

Him… he’s good.

I have nothing bad to say about him… in fact, he’s one of the best people here. Hm. He doesn’t get in other people’s business… [he side-eyes you]

Phlux

Good soldier.

Does her job… good for her… makes less work for me.

Locust

Noisy…

Too energetic…

Octobro

Huh… he’s here again?

What’s with him…

Schlimeguy

They’re quiet.

[yawn] slime… yeah. They went that way.

Chalazías

New.. huh…

Seems strong. Polite. That’s good… hm.

Team Taps

063 on your team: …did she help you find me…? Please kindly leave, thank you.

Hywel on your team: Oh, Hill. Didn’t know you knew them.

Schlimeguy on your team: Hm. You again…

Octogirl: Thank you for last time.

Octogirl and 063 on your team: …hide me. No. I’m not here.

Voicelines

Appointed as assistant: Huh… I don’t really have time for this….

Talk 1: Zzzz…

Talk 2: Talk to me later… I’m busy……. zzzz….. zzz…

Talk 3: Just 30 more minutes…

Promotion 1: Oh… more work…

Promotion 2: Ah… I’ll… do my best…

Talk after Promotion 1: I don’t mind fighting for the right cause… but can you convince me to believe in you?

Talk after Promotion 2: …you’re not like anyone I’ve met before… I’m… curious to say the least…

Trust+ 1: I’m no one of importance… I like to nap, relax… and… zzz…. zzzz….

Trust+ 2: …why are you so curious… you ask so many questions… I guess mysteries can be “fun”….

Trust+3: Who am I? …. I wonder... Maybe you’ll find out when we meet again. But… a small part of me hopes it will never happen…

Idle: …zzzz…

Hired: Ah… am I dreaming? No… oh… Conohan, reporting for duty……

Level up: …time for a nap…

Added to squad: I suppose it’s time…

Appointed as squad leader: I’d rather follow behind…

Depart: …let’s finish this quickly… I'm getting sleepy…

Begin operation: Morning already…

Selecting character(1): [Yawn]

Selecting character(2): Good morning…

Deploy 1: So it’s begun…

Deploy 2: I’m already tired….

In battle 1: Ah… so noisy…

In battle 2: Zzz..zzz— nnn?

In battle 3: Almost done…?

In battle 4: …mn

Skill 1: Hmph…

Skill 2: It’s okay to rest…

Skill 3: Be careful, will you?

Overload(big fancy unga bunga ultimate atk thing): I suppose… everyone has to wake up eventually. But the same applies reversely. Good morning… and good night. Sleep well…

3-star result(challenge mode): …how nice… even if somewhat unexpected…

2-star result: mn… not bad…

1-star result: pass… [yawn]

Operation failure: …this is why I said I’d stay behind… I feel restless…

Injury 1: nnn-!

Injury 2: I was having a good dream…!

Injury 3: …annoying…

Death 1: …I can… finally rest…..

Death 2: I’ve failed… I’m sorry… ….

Death 3: Is it all over…? No…

Death 4: So it finally happened… I'll be seeing them… so soon…

Tap: ..zzzz…

Trust tap: -? [placeholder] huh? She’s coming this way! Distract her for me will you…..? She’s going to talk my ears off….

Greetings: …good morning…

Skins

Cobalt Dreams ★★★★ - Pajama Set

[relentlessgrief]

"Aurelia, I TOLD YOU TO RUN!"

Gods, she didn't listen. Why the HELL didn't she listen? Now what would happen if she was grabbed again?

The timing couldn't be any more perfect--Connor's scolding falls quiet after one of the nearby shadows sink their claws deep into Connor's skull while trying to pull him back away from Aurelia. The claws dig deep, and for the first time, Connor feels a sting of pain as he sees a rush of memories from the spirit.

A crying child. A weeping mother. They lost their cat.

Whatever these monsters were made of, they were feeding on the sorrow and lives of those who once were--Jaheira warned Connor of that. He remembers being warned of that, but he didn't think anything of it, not immediately.

With the use of one of his many hands, Connor swipes the shadow off of him. Just as one is swiped off, another two take its place. Aurelia is dragging a swamped undead so heavily ensnared by blackness that it looks as if she's just carrying a void with her.

Seconds pass by, and each second is crucial. Hit after hit. Another set of claws into his form.

This time he sees the memory of a newborn cradled in the mother's arms. There was bitterness as the woman's father wasn't around to see the child.

Another set.

A whole garden was ruined by locusts. There was sadness. The farmer's family wept.

Nonstop, Connor is inundated with lives completely separate from his own. Hit after hit, he's experiencing so many lifetimes seconds apart from on another.

It was becoming too much. As Aurelia is continuing to drag him along in which he blindly follows, unable to see too far ahead, she'd begin to feel his bones shake. He was sturdy. Always was. But the back to back to back damage is taking its toll.

He needed a plan, and quick.

Aurelia's blasts could only do so much.

Mustering everything within his inner core--his inner sense of self, Connor bellows an ear shattering screech that's never been heard before. It's powerful, and Aurelia's own ears might tingle, but it does not hurt her. It's strong enough for her to know that it's lethal.

The primal cry of the Far Realm stutters reality around them for a second, and the shadowlands looks to shudder briefly, like a tear in reality wants to claw its way through into this godforsaken place.

The shadows all around Connor simultaneously either explode, while others immediately let go, covering their ears as if they had any. Others curled over from the aberration's siren song. Some immediately opted to run away. A few disappeared into the ground. It was a collection of mixed responses.

It would give the both of them enough time to hopefully get the hell out of here. Connor kept pace with Aurelia.

"Keep going! Get to some light. Get to ANYTHING! DO NOT STOP, AURELIA!"

Aurelia watched in horror as the shadow creatures increased in volume behind him and between the two of them, interrupting his path to her. Why did the shadows want her? Why was she a target? Or was the real goal to get to Connor? Were the shadows really that intelligent that they could create such a complex plan as Aurelia seemed to think they did?

Regardless, she can't help but to scream for Connor as he took the hits that he did. Hand outstretched for him, Aurelia did her best to throw bolt after bolt of eldritch blasts at the shadow creatures, to whittle down their numbers so the cost wasn't too great... but she wasn't a strong warlock. She was so new to the world of it all that her blasts barely put a dent in the shadows.

By the time that he reached her, tears are streaking down her cheeks for the pain she imagined he must be in, entirely unaware that he felt no pain

Staggering when the spell was released from her person, Aurelia looked at the vast amount of enemies... and without hesitation she takes hold of Connor's hand... and turns to run.

"We have to go! Connor...! Run!" she urges, knowing that she could misty step out of range... but she wouldn't leave Connor. Not again.

[flightywriting]

Example Essay Excerpt

The Effect Hate Has

Hate has been around as long as people have, and unfortunately, will be around until people aren't. There are many types of hate in our world, from racism to xenophobia. I am focusing specifically on the hate that queer people experience, particularly in their youth. This kind of hate, and all others for that matter, may be split into three major groups two of which feed into a third. These groups are as follows: Unknown Hate–the hate one might experience from a person who has no personal knowledge of you, Known Hate–the hate that one might experience from family with an intimate and personal relationship with you, and Self Hate–the hate that is found within oneself, for oneself. This last category of hate is the synthesis of the latter two Hates combined with whatever personal hatred one might have fostered for themselves. Self Hate is the most visceral kind of hate. It is private and self-propagating, free to build upon itself until it is totally unbearable. It is this culmination of unwant that leads queer people to become permanently othered. So what exactly is the effect of this culmination of hate?

What is Hate?

Hate, as defined by Webster’s dictionary is, “[an] intense hostility toward and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury,” or, “extreme dislike or disgust.” Starting from here, hate is clearly something that needs direction, even if only towards a vague idea. Usually, when one person speaks out against another person or persons in hate it is defined as hate speech. Hate speech inherently contains the following: “(1) it contains negative stereotypes, (2) it dehumanizes social groups, which means members of these groups are labeled as things (e.g., “pack”), animals (e.g., “locusts”), or inhuman beings (e.g., “demons”), and/or (3) it contains expressions of violence, harm, or killing” (Schäfer et al, 2023). Hate speech directed towards queer people falls into each category, most often espoused by right-wing pundits and their ilk, although it may just as easily be from a parent or friend. Using this definition of hate speech allows for Unknown and Known hate to be further subdivided and understood. Each of these kinds of hate could contain hate speech, or may be more outwardly hateful. This distinction will be important to make later on when dissecting how the main categories of hate affect the hated.

Hatred is often pointless, save for the intent to hurt another. Behind the hatred are implicit and explicit stereotypes, which are both defined by Schäfer et al as, “…mental associations between group concepts and certain attributes which are automatically activated in response to external stimuli,”  and “ ‘beliefs about the characteristics, attributes, and behaviors of memoirs of certain groups,’”  respectively. Implicit stereotypes come to the surface when presented with external stimuli. For example, in response to seeing a drag performance, someone disposed to hatred could make the connection that, “Those queers are overly sexual freaks”. Likewise, explicit stereotypes need no stimuli, rather they are evoked as base assumptions of a group. The same person might just believe that all gay men are inherently violent. The former kind of hate is a response, it is an outwardly hurtful thing that can directly affect somebody. The latter kind of hate is what informs the actions and words of a hater. Understanding what beliefs lead someone to hate does not make the hate easier to digest, oftentimes it could make it harder as it solidifies the idea that the hater is firmly cemented in their views and unwilling to change.

Unknown Hate

Unknown Hate may originate from news stories, podcasts, videos, and strangers in public. Oftentimes, Unknown hate seeks to otherize the hated and to lead others to hate. This kind of hate is the most prevalent kind  to be found and yet is seemingly the least effective. In a recent interview with Connor Burry, a mental health therapist and master social worker for NYS spoke about drive-by faggot’s and how they affect him. They explained how on a surface level, it's funny, “[those people] don’t know me, they made a split second judgment call based on what I’m wearing or how I walk, I will never see them again” (Burry). He went on to explain that this is, of course, a defense mechanism, a buildup of protective calluses to prevent further hurt. This sort of quasi-personal hate is just one person, and only does so much harm. It does, of course, remind the hated that there are still circles where their very existence is unwanted or even shunned, but it is not something that spreads far beyond the inciting incident.

Within the last few years, queer people  have become the main target for right-wing pundits to attack as a part of the on-going culture war. The hate espoused by figures such as Tucker Carlson or Matt Walsh is vile and nearly impossible to stomach. Nonetheless they each hold an audience who eagerly lap up this hate to justify their own beliefs. These people have no personal connection to the queer people they speak of, and yet what they say is so broadly heard that it feels like it echoes all around. To a queer child seeing such hate plastered all over the internet, they are constantly reminded of how unwanted they are, and how many people want them outright dead. The constant bombardment of hate lays a foundation for Self hate by weakening one's will to endure it. This can be exacerbated by watching someone who is meant to love you unconditionally consume hateful media. The sight of your loved-one taking part in something so hateful hurts. It lets you know what is underlying all of that love and makes you wonder if they love the real you. Everyone has masks for different social groups, but they should not have to hide something immutable. By becoming aware of underlying hate, even if it is not directed at you personally, one’s trust begins to fail, and you begin to doubt they ever really, with all their heart, loved you. I love you's become shallow and pulse like a fresh bruise in your heart every time you have to say it back. How can you love me if you wish I wasn’t me? 

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Works Cited

Burry, Conner. Zoom Interview. Conducted by Charlie Luke. 14 November 2023.

“Hate.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hate. Accessed 5 Dec. 2023.

Schäfer, S., Rebasso, I., Boyer, M. M., & Planitzer, A. M. (2023). Can We Counteract Hate? Effects of Online Hate Speech and Counter Speech on the Perception of Social Groups. Communication Research, 0(0). https://doi.org/10.1177/00936502231201091

[jonrak]

The Greatest Threat to Mankind: A Letter to 8 Billion People

These unprecedented times have left us with unprecedented dangers. We face the potential annihilation of our way of life and possibly, the extinction of humanity. The warming of the Indian Ocean has imperiled our brothers and sisters in East Africa, Bangladesh, and India, who are facing deadly flooding as well as locusts that have grown to such numbers that would eclipse major cities, decimating their farmland and subsequently threatening their food supplies.[1]

Drought and extreme heat are fueling a record breaking number of wildfires while lack of substantial rain is threatening the water supply for millions of Americans on the west coast. As we speak, more than 25% of the U.S. is reeling from the most severe case of drought.[2] The heat trapping of carbon dioxide, methane, and nitric oxide can no longer be ignored, much less denied. Carbon dioxide emissions from our dependence on fossil fuels are increasing 250 times faster than it did from natural sources after the last ice age. Due to the rising carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere, the acidity of our oceans has increased by more than 30%. Satellites have detected that the Arctic Sea ice, as well as the once-gleaming glaciers from the Alps, Andes, Himalayas, Rockies, Alaska, and Kilimanjaro are disappearing. According to NASA, in the year 1900, the planet’s temperature was -.08° C. Now the planet’s temperature is over 1° C.[3]

I would be remiss if I were to say that the picture is anything but dire. At this rate, the global temperature is expected to surpass 1.5°C around 2040 and 2°C by 2050. A 2°C warming would undoubtedly lead to a billion people displaced and the scale of destruction is currently unquantifiable but there is a high likelihood that human civilization, as we know it, would end.[4] We face the potentially grim reality of inadequate food production compounded by skyrocketing prices. We could witness the desertification of entire regions, frequent flooding for some nations and wildfires for others; chronic water shortages and mass migrations of displaced peoples, which would overwhelm already stressed infrastructures. Armed conflict over waning resources would be inevitable and even the nuclear armed nations would not be immune. Government instability and chaotic fallout is not hard to imagine. We risk the loss of thousands of years of historical advancements and achievements of mankind, as well as the loss of our future and our children’s future.

Our best-case scenario is in fact, not very good news at all. Even if we were to stop immediately the emissions that are heating up our planet, we are already on course- like the Titanic- to hit that proverbial iceberg of 1.5° Celsius. According to the IPCC, Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the best we can hope for is that we brace ourselves accordingly and hope it stops there. The panel predicts the devastating news that coral reefs, for example, are projected to decline by a further 70–90% at 1.5°C but there would be significantly larger losses (>99%) at 2°C. The panel also reports that of 105,000 species studied, 9.6% of insects, 8% of plants and 4% of vertebrates are projected to lose over half of their climatically determined geographic range from global warming of 1.5°C. This is compared to a staggering loss of 18% of insects, 16% of plants and 8% of vertebrates’ geographic range from global warming of 2°C. Climate-related risks to health, livelihoods, food security, water supply, human security, and economic growth are projected to increase with global warming of 1.5°C and increase further with 2°C.[5] Either way, this Titanic is going to crash, and it’s up to us to determine our speed when it happens. The Paris Agreement’s strategies are deemed not aggressive enough on carbon dioxide emissions to prevent the global temperature rising above 1.5°C.[6] In other words, the captain of our proverbial ship, still has the speed at full throttle instead of reverse.

To survive this less-than-ideal situation (the understatement of the century) would demand “a global mobilization of resources on an emerging basis, akin to a wartime level response.”[7] We must immediately reduce emissions and stabilize the levels of heat-trapping greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, not as an ethnic group, not as a creed or religion, or as a country, but as human beings who are staring into the face of total extinction and refusing to go gentle into that good night. There is real hope, but it is not found in denial or in the heated discourse over semantics (e.g., climate change vs. global warming) to name our shared enemy which has already breached the gates. It is knowing that we have the ability to lower the temperature even after it reaches that dreaded 1.5° C. If we institutionalize potentially disruptive but sustainable pathways to eliminate these gases, we can possibly return to lower temperatures and regain control before we sink.

In the following section I will discuss key actions that need to be considered seriously and implemented.

It will not be sufficient to solely reduce greenhouse gas emissions to zero; CO2 will also need to be actively captured from the atmosphere. Leveraging photosynthesis may hold the solution. As algae grows, it removes carbon dioxide from the atmosphere by converting it to oxygen via photosynthesis. On average, one kilogram of algae utilizes 1.87 kilograms of CO2 daily, which means that one acre of algae utilizes approximately 2.7 tons of CO2 per day. For comparison, one acre of a 25-year-old maple beech-birch forest only utilizes 2.18 kilograms of CO2 per day.[8] We must invest in strategies that increase the rate of photosynthesis globally, including expanding the surface area of communities with fauna and algae. The cheapest way to remove excess CO2 is tree-planting. Two-thirds of human emissions can be potentially removed by planting one trillion trees in the world’s 1.7 billion hectares of non-used land with a cost of 30 U.S. cents per tree.[9] From reading the aforementioned, it should be clear that the cessation of deforestation is nonnegotiable or otherwise, we might as well all capitulate to an abysmal and likely torturous fate that is fast approaching.

Another viable option is the theoretical geoengineering technique called “enhanced weathering.” This involves the capture of CO2 indefinitely from the environment by the crushing and spreading of certain rock material (e.g., silicate) across large areas which then absorb the CO2 and convert it into bicarbonate, a benign molecule. This alkaline product can then reverse ocean acidification as well as improve crop growth.[10]

Methane is the second most prevalent greenhouse gas yet is significantly more powerful at capturing heat than carbon dioxide. Cutting methane emissions by almost half within the next decade would prevent a 0.3°C rise in the average global temperature by the 2040’s.[11] Comparatively, this would be considered the “low hanging fruit” in terms of low-cost implementations when juxtaposed to carbon dioxide reduction. Reduction strategies include improving the detection and repair of methane leaks at gas and oil facilities and flooding abandoned coal mines that leak gas. It includes the prevention of burning of fields after harvest and adjusting feed for livestock.[12] Also, focused attention and financial incentives should be allocated to the development of technology that converts methane gas from waste into energy.

While we make concerted efforts to slow down global warming, we must simultaneously plan for the inevitable consequences from the damage that has already been done. Increased attention and stewardship for the conservation of the species (e.g., bees) that we desperately depend on must be in order. Governments need to create and implement plans for the storage of potable water and foods, especially for those populations geographically at greatest risk. Another crucial action is the increased vigilance to prevent and combat wildfires in those regions commonly affected such as the western coast of the United States and Australia. This by far is not a comprehensive list of necessary steps but it is a reasonable start.

We, humanity, as well as the panoply of fauna and wildlife, face a fast-approaching existential threat. This is not a drill.

[1] VOX. (2020). Why locusts are descending on East Africa [Video]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vo61TiAGwhk.

[2] John Keefe and Rachel Ramirez, C. (2021). The West’s historic drought in 3 maps. Retrieved 21 June 2021, from https://www.cnn.com/2021/06/17/weather/west-california-drought-maps/index.html

[3] Climate Change Evidence: How Do We Know?. (2021). Retrieved 21 June 2021, from https://climate.nasa.gov/evidence/

[4] Dunlop, I., & Spratt, D. J. (2019, May). A scenario approach THE AUTHORS. Existential climate-related security risk. https://www.academia.edu/40017142/Existential_climate-related_security_risk_A_scenario_approach_THE_AUTHORS.

[5] IPCC, 2019: Summary for Policymakers. In: Climate Change and Land: an IPCC special report on climate change, desertification, land degradation, sustainable land management, food security, and greenhouse gas fluxes in terrestrial ecosystems [P.R. Shukla, J. Skea, E. Calvo Buendia, V. Masson-Delmotte, H.-O. Pörtner, D. C. Roberts, P. Zhai, R. Slade, S. Connors, R. van Diemen, M. Ferrat, E. Haughey, S. Luz, S. Neogi, M. Pathak, J. Petzold, J. Portugal Pereira, P. Vyas, E. Huntley, K. Kissick, M. Belkacemi, J. Malley, (eds.)]. In press.

[6] Ibid, 5.

[7] Dunlop, I., & Spratt, D. J. (2019, May). A scenario approach THE AUTHORS. Existential climate-related security risk. https://www.academia.edu/40017142/Existential_climate-related_security_risk_A_scenario_approach_THE_AUTHORS.

[8] Polon, R. (2020, July 10). Not All Heroes Wear Capes: How Algae Could Help Us Fight Climate Change. The Aggie Transcript. https://aggietranscript.ucdavis.edu/not-all-heroes-wear-capes-how-algae-could-help-us-fight-climate-change/.

[9] Holloway, B. (n.d.). Top 5 ways scientists are trying to reverse climate change. Top 5 ways scientists are trying to reverse climate change | UPM Pulp. https://www.upmpulp.com/media/blogs-and-stories/stories/top-5-ways-scientists-are-trying-to-reverse-climate-change/.

[10] Beerling, D.J., Kantzas, E.P., Lomas, M.R. et al. Potential for large-scale CO2 removal via enhanced rock weathering with croplands. Nature 583, 242–248 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-020-2448-9

[11] Maizland, lindsay. (2021, May 21). How Cutting Methane Emissions Can Move the Needle on Climate Change. Council on Foreign Relations. https://www.cfr.org/in-brief/how-cutting-methane-emissions-can-move-needle-climate-change?gclid=Cj0KCQjwxJqHBhC4ARIsAChq4asQ4lTvhMrvK_2RCnPENhMXbFZvOkXoyaaocAgnQd65blBgo94oj7IaAqZDEALw_wcB.

[12] Ibid, 11.

[universallycartooncomicgarden]

Hiya Toys

Gears of War

Wave 2

Batista

Height: 3.75in."

Accessories:

1.) Talon Autopistol

1.) Knife

Emile & Kat 2-pack

Height: 3.75in."

Accessories:

1.) Lancer

1.) Gnasher Shotgun

2.) Knives

Killer Mike & El-P 2-pack

Height: 3.75in."

Accessories:

1.) Lancer

1.) Gnasher Shotgun

2.) Knives

Sarah Connor & T-800 2-pack

Height: 3.75in."

Accessories:

1.) Lancer

1.) Gnasher Shotgun

2.) Knives

"The Locust"

General Raam

Height: 4.5in."

Accessories:

1.) Raam's Troika

1.) Knife

[oh-fortheloveof-ra9]

Random Ask Time™: What was the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to you related to food? Timebird84/Connor-sent-by-Cyberlife

Oh God.... Let's see, I'm digging deep on this, I tend to block out bad memories involving food. These are the best ones I have that don't involve vomit:

I used to work at a country club where they would hold large parties, one year for a cookout they did a ton of burgers and stuff and they had large metal holders of each condiment and I mean LARGE. It was a hot day and the ketchup and mustard recieved plenty of love and were diminished, but the giant tub of mayo was nearly full AND it has been sitting in the sun all day when I had to clean it up. I have no huge problem with mayonnaise under regular circumstances, but scraping all of that into the trashcan was... viscerally disgusting.

*shivers*

Also, I did eat a peanut-fried, canned, locust thorax once....for science. That wasn't my favorite texture-wise, and taste-wise there wasn't much there. I've always felt I should give bugs a try again when they're seasoned better.... Is that weird? I think that may be weird. Oh well!

Thank you for the ask!

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Connor hastened to unfasten the chinstrap of his helmet, yanking the heavy article off as he faced Locust.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he asked, his eyes wild and his hair soaked with sweat.

Locust's permanent twisted grin stretched at the edges, showing more of his dagger teeth.

"Would you like the detailed version," he wheedled, "or the summary?"

Sirens rang out in the distance, growing closer every second. Connor sighed with annoyance. He motioned for Locust to walk with him, which the creature did with a spring in his step.

"Summary."

"Well, I removed most of your physical limitations and amplified your natural talents. I threw in a few extra abilities as well, but I think it would be more fun if those were surprises."

The pair made their way out of the warehouse toward the surrounding woods. The sounds of sirens and amplified police voices faded the farther they walked.

"You said this was only a fraction of the power you have?" Connor asked, marveling at his now silent footfalls despite the heavy forest floor debris of twigs and dead leaves.

"I could only give you a small dose at first - a taste - to see if you would take to it," Locust explained, "Human bodies are so fragile. I've seen some explode from even less than I gave you."

Connor jumped, much higher than he had ever done before, and grabbed hold of a tree branch. He effortlessly pulled himself up to sit on the branch, then swung upside down to meet Locust's hollow eyes at their level.

"I think I can get used to this," he said, nearly breathless with excitement.

Locust reached up and gently stroked Connor's jawline with the back of one claw.

"You want more?" he purred.

"Oh, fuck yeah."

[miraclesnail]

eyyyyy I don’t know what to say other than I really, really love ramen and is about to go cook some right now

Title: Kronos, Fear

Summary: Kronos has always been an opportunist. He sees the seething hatred Luke has for his father and he can see the same seeds in the youngest. It’s something he can use. Something he can manipulate. The Gods aren’t so willing to strike down their own children and they’re complete fools for that. Complete utter fools.

He might as well add another and rub salt in the wound. 

(1000 ways to tell the Stoll brothers apart and I can name you one) 

Tags: emotional manipulation, dream character death, nightmares, mild angst

Kronos — Fear

Travis 13 - Connor 12

September

Post-the lightning thief 

Kronos has always been an opportunist. He sees the seething hatred for his father in Luke. And now he sees the same in the young brother. It’s something he can use. Something he can manipulate. The Gods aren’t so willing to strike down their own children and they’re complete fools for that. They place too much value on their children. Mortal children nonetheless with their laughable span of life. 

He took action as soon as he realized his children will be his demise, eating his children as they were born. Their lack of action is going to be their downfall. 

It is their downfall as he stares down at Hermes’s preferred son. 

One son hates him to the bitter bone. 

Let’s rub salt in the wound and add another. 

 Connor doesn’t get many dreams.

Doesn’t even know the prophetic dreams Percy gets can happen to him too. He always thought he stuck low enough on the important-demigod radar to avoid those types of stuff. 

He guesses not, because he’s standing in a wide, endless field. The dead grass sways back and forth in the nonexistent wind, their prickly ends brushing against his waist. On the horizon, the sun is setting and making the sky a bright purple color. A sight worth a thousand pictures. 

It should be beautiful. It should be breathtaking, but all Connor feels is a sense of dread. 

“Travis?” he calls out, hesitantly. He doesn’t like the way his voice carries across the plains. “Are you here?” Because that makes sense. Even when he’s dreaming, Travis is always here with him. In every happy dream, every nightmare, Travis is there. But he didn’t hear his brother’s voice like he wanted, but another man’s. 

From behind. 

Connor twirls around, hand going for the knife he always keeps hidden on his waist. It isn’t there and he’s furious it isn’t there, because standing before him is Luke Castellan with his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pockets in an infuriating casual pose.

Anger bubbles in him and Connor hisses, “You got a lot of nerve, Luke, showing your face to us after what you did to Percy.” 

Luke sneers. His gold eyes — gold? — twinkle with malice and when he speaks, it’s not Luke’s voice but another. Someone much, much older. 

“Spirited. I like that in a pawn.” 

“L...Luke?” Connor hates how small his voice sounds. He hates how he’s failing at pushing the ugly head of fear down. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

Luke, no, Kro — the titan smiles, Luke’s scar twisting  in a very, very scary way. Kronos takes a step towards him and okay. Connor has enough. It’s time to wake up. 

He wants to wake up. Please wake up, body. 

“Listen closely and follow my orders.”

He pinches himself, but the Titan is still in front of him. 

“I need another person on the inside. Someone who can sabotage the son of the Sea God’s plans.”

He covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, yelling as loud as he can but he can still hear the Titan talk. 

“Stop him from going on quests. Do whatever you need to do.” 

Why isn’t he waking up? He wants to wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up, please.

“Or you’ll face consequences, Connor Stoll.”

And it’s like every nightmare he ever had. 

There’s a chain around his ankle binding him to the ground. Travis is beside him, tugging on the chains and saying it will be okay. Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. Don’t cry. I’ll help you. I won’t leave you. Just leave it to me.  

But Luke is holding a gun. Then he’s raising the gun.

And Connor screams.

Tries to scream. 

Nothing comes out. 

He’s frozen. He’s too weak. He can’t help. He can’t do anything. 

Luke aims the gun at the back of Travis’s head. And like in every nightmare, Travis doesn’t notice the danger he’s in. He’s too occupied to notice the danger he’s in. He’s too focused on him to notice the danger at all. 

Connor tries one more time. To say something. But nothing comes out and he watches Luke presses the trigger and blows a hole straight through his brother’s skull. 

 The child wakes up screaming in the empty cabin, the screams jolting the elder awake from his slumber. In mere seconds, the elder leaps down from his higher bed and is beside the younger with their celestial tinted Army Swiss knife in hand. 

“Connor?! Connor, what’s wrong?!”

The younger burrows himself in his brother’s arms, crying and blubbering as he recounts the dream. But at the end of the tale the elder only pats the younger’s head and gives a disgustingly warm smile. 

“Connor, it’s just a dream just like the others.”

“This is different! I can feel it. Kro—He really spoke to me.” 

“Oh. That’s scary. Hm. Do you think if we put a circle of salt around the bed, it’ll stop him?” 

“This is serious!”

“I am being serious.”

“Travis, I-I don’t want you to die.” 

“I’m not going to die. If he really wants to get you, I wouldn’t even be here right now. I should be locked in some cave somewhere, right? Like a hostage?” 

“I-I guess…let’s go break in the camp store and get some salt.” 

The fear he places is melting away and he curses. He tries again when the younger goes back to sleep and makes the death more gruesome, more vivid. Run over by a tank. Electrocuted in a torture chamber. Eaten alive by cyclops. Beheaded by friends.

But it all ends the same. 

The younger wakes up, the elder offers some words, and then the fear dissolves. 

Night after night. Failure after failure.

If to get one he needs both then so be it. 

 Travis loves prairies. It’s where he finds his favorite animal, the meerkat! … did they live in prairies or was he thinking of Australia? Wait, he also loves ferrets and ferrets can be found in prairies too right? Or do they live in the woods? Note to self, ask Annabeth and Connor about this. Also prairies are super duper relaxing! It makes him want to build a cabin with a deck for stargazing.

“Travis Stoll.”

That’s the true life. Just kick back and enjoy the nice weather. 

“Travis Stoll.”

Hmm, then again, Connor likes the city more. He probably won’t be very happy living in a rural area. And Travis has to admit cities have their advantages when it comes to food options. Oh wait, don’t prairies have a lot of grasshoppers and locusts? Connor would really hate living here. 

“Travis Stoll!”

He guesses a holographic projection would have to do. 

“For father’s sake, turn around!”

Travis jumps in surprise because he is 70% sure that was Luke’s voice and isn’t Luke evil now? Why is Luke talking to him? Did he mistake him for Connor again? Isn’t this the dream realm? Are their dream spirits similar too then that Luke got confused? No, no, no wait. Luke said his name. Luke knows he isn’t speaking with Connor. 

“Turn around!”

Is it his turn for the nightmares? Is Luke going to try and convince him? If he leads Luke on, will he leave Connor alone? Wait a second… how does he know this is the real deal and not just something his imagination cook up for an entertaining night? 

“Hey!”

A hand touches his back and Travis makes up his mind then, slamming his hands over his ears, closing his eyes, and singing as loud as he can.

“ALALALALA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

And he really can’t. 

[tavtiers]

A hypothetical god tier for Connor Guerrin from Dragon Age: the Mage of Doom.

A Mage of Doom is among those who explore energy to influence. They are motivated by themselves to know caution. (x) The Mage of Doom has trouble forgiving their own mistakes and hates confrontation. (x) They are the Genius Defender, defined by introspection and caution. (x) Their opposite is the Seer of Life. Their inverse is the Heir of Life. They share their personality with the Knight of Mind. The Mage of Doom would quest on a planet similar to the Land of Thought and Doom, reigned over by Hades (God of the Underworld) or Persephone (Dual Goddess of Spring Growth and Decay). They would rise to ascension on the wings of locusts. (x)(x)(x)

[ao3feed-reed900]

by Ill_Ratte

“Gavin thought the day the world ended would be more dramatic. Red lights splitting the sky in two, a plague of locusts descending upon the air. Pestilence, famine, eternal damnation. The whole Robert Frost fire and ice shit, if it was an especially poetic day for him.

Instead, it started with a spaceship.”

Aka, Gavin gets sold to aliens to save the world

Words: 2287, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson, Upgraded Connor | RK900, Various Others

Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed

Additional Tags: Trans Gavin Reed, Transphobia, Alternate Universe, Alien Invasion, Apocalypse, Mentions of Oviposition, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Aliens, Dubious Concent, Mating

[whispering-windows]

Darkness in Disguise ; {2}

Note; wHOOP WHOop second chapter! YALL I FINISHED MY EXAMS SO I CAN FINALLY W R I T E ITS A MIRACLE GUYS A BITCH FREE! I hope you enjoy it I feel like I wrote too much for just one chapter idk. Also, idk what the edit above is, it was meant to be a moodboard but it just kinda turned into something else lmao I had fun making it tho. 

Pairing; Rk900 x reader

Word Count; 3400k 

Warnings; swearing (a lot), but I don’t there's anything else?

[Days later]  

// 16th of November, Tuesday; 10:00 AM //

The snow drifted in a downward trajectory, sprinkling the windscreens of cars, forcing itself into the crevices of shop fronts and mounting against the pavements; a gentle reminder of the equally as cold and brazen commands that had been executed in Detroit, imprinting darkly on its history. Fingers curled around the metallic handle of the door, the dragging motion in which followed was swift and effortless, presenting the area hidden within. The automated system governing his movements took over, as he found himself walking inside the building.

Surprisingly, the steady ticking of the digital clock was the first thing he noticed. Its systematic song a reminder of the obsession humans had with time; a reminder of their impermanence and the seconds, minutes, hours, even days, they’ll never get to relive. Yet, what was a disturbing human thought, their reality, to an android?

Next, were the masses of people within the department’s waiting room. It seemed busier than what he assumed a typical police station looked like, and the hurried bodies scuttling in and out of the door only heightened his assumption. Shoulders, whether intentional or not, (he knew how turbulent and volatile the relationship between machines and humans were), barged into his own form, forcing him to sidestep. As hands moved to readjust his jacket, an ingrained habit, the hushed whispers shared between others piqued his interest; small words such as  ‘deviants,’ ‘revolution,’ ‘Cyberlife,’ were thrown around, and it was clear that the recent insurgency had shaken everyone up. The TV in which had initially blended in with the background was the third thing he noticed, and it only proved the fact further. Bullins covering the latest updates on androids, ‘the android question,’ and the debate about their place among society was broadcast.

“All deviants have allegedly been terminated, the figurehead for the android liberation movement, Markus, has been confirmed as ‘destroyed,’ alongside the androids who assisted in the rebellion’s planning on November 11th — models PL600, PJ500, WR400. While androids themselves are slowly being accepted back into the household, Cyberlie life has suffered significant repercussions; their sales reaching its lowest, since their inception. Despite this, Cyberlife has assured models directly within stores are “deviancy free,” and are, thereby ready to integrate into “home life.” Yet, with recent events, this has understandably been met with apprehension.

“Congress has been quick in its legislative response regarding the uprising and have announced stricter android laws to prevent similar occurrences. The bicameral system, with both the House of Representatives and the Senate strongly voting in favour of the bill, will most likely be implemented later this month; more on that later.”

“Alarmingly, an unidentified android, who has been sighted numerous times with the deviant leader and his inner circle, is yet to be discovered by the authorities.”

The screen transitioned, displaying poor, almost wholly unidentifiable shots of the machine in question, and if it hadn’t been for his enhanced optical units, he would not have been able to run scans. Quickly, the analysis proved itself ineffective as a profound red warning, flashed into view.

-------------------------------------

[X]

RK900: ACCESS DENIED;

NO AUTHORISATION;

-------------------------------------

Perplexed, he immediately ceased his search, tuning back into the TV for information, seemingly as it was his only resource at that stage. The blond news anchor, Rosanna Cartland, continued.

“Although it is still only early days, and the deactivated machines scattered amongst the outskirts of Detroit are currently being sifted through, authorities have stated that “it is almost certain” the android will be located. Officials have yet to comment on the subject, and, just like Cyberlife when asked about this specific, unknown model, they have remained reticent.”

“This begs the question: what is Cyberlife hiding? Is Cyberlife, the multi-trillion dollar empire, as innocent as we initially thought? Or are there darker forces at play? Corruption; greed; the bribing of executives? Who can we trust, now that technology has proven itself a threat to humanity’s very existence?”

With the woman’s harrowing last words, the report ended, an abundance of advertisements promptly replacing the substance, and the room that had momentarily silenced to hear the news had struck back up again; most noticeably, in fear. The android hesitated for a moment, eyes monitoring the screen longer than usual, only managing to snap out of his processing when deciding it was no longer of importance. The android swiftly turned his attention away from the TV and returned to his objective, moving to approach the front desk. Greeted by a female ST300 model, who was handling the reception, he quickly gained access to the heart of the building. After passing the mandatory security evaluation, he pushed his way past the crowd, and the small, glass automatic doors, with his aim, clearly displayed.

----------------------------

FIND  LT. REED

----------------------------

Desks, most of which were void of workers, stretched out across the floor. The disorder had undoubtedly propelled the department into havoc, as stacks upon stacks of files decorated most cubicles. Deviancy had been a nuisance to deal with, the number of reports before the revolt had surpassed that of any other state — Detroit, somehow, being the nucleus, outshone any other major city. Quickly, it had spread like a plague of locusts and thus, the damage it had caused, both directly and indirectly, had reached a boiling point. This buildup of paperwork was the kind that would hold employees back for days on end; there was no escaping that.

Roaming, yet attentive, he scanned the name tags attached to the round corners of the tables, only halting when one particular work surface seized his attention. Bland, beige boxes covered the surface — variety, among the blinding sea of paper — and while most of the contents, he assumed had once decorated its top, had been packed away, the forgotten newspaper clips, remained; hanging from the transparent wall. Bright, bold headlines read:

‘DETROIT POLICE DISMANTLE A NETWORK OF RED ICE DEALERS’

‘DETECTIVE ANDERSON PROMOTED TO RANK OF LIEUTENANT’

‘NEW RECORD SEIZURE OF RED ICE IN DETROIT!’

Grey eyes speedily skimmed through them, coming to the rather natural conclusion that the workspace had once belonged to a ‘Hank Anderson’. His analytical interface had already been conjured, and as he ran the name through the system’s search, a plethora of results manifested, ranging from behavioural reports — mostly negative, after the point of 2036 — to his birth certificate, occupation, and thus, his death.

Anderson, Hank

----------------------------------------------

Status: Deceased; suicide

Born: 06/08/1985 // Ex-police Lieutenant

Criminal record: None

----------------------------------------------

Stepping back, he took one last glance at the mess, before redirecting his gaze toward more of the stations. Moments passed before he eventually found the one in which corresponded with his mission. The desk was messy and impersonal, utterly contrary to Hank’s, and judging from the small feline follicles scattered across the counter, and along the chair’s upholstery, the Lieutenant owned a cat. This information alone wasn’t enough to determine definitively the type of person the Lieutenant was, but if his desk space was an indicator, he seemed lazy. Letting the piles, which evidently spanned longer than the timeframe of a few days, to build up, clearly only delving into the theory component when he absolutely had to. However, despite this, there were elements even if they were small, that were commendable. The subtle efforts of professionalism that occasionally cracked through the lax exterior were displayed by the lack of sentimental trinkets.

As if on cue, the quiet tapping of keyboards, the soft hum of the air conditioning and the irregular computer notification, which were directly paralleled with the noise in the department’s waiting room, was interrupted by the harsh slamming of a door. Shifting his gaze ahead, toward the source of the sound, he saw a figure transcend the stairs, muttering curses with hardened eyes and furrowed brows. The man had just exited the centred glass office, of whom he had guessed was Jeffrey Fowler’s, and after a quick analysis, it was clear that the furious man was Lieutenant Gavin Reed. The android waited patiently at his new partner’s desk, watching like a hawk as the troubled man’s eyes transfixed on the floor, lost in thought — practically refusing to look at anything else.

Once the man arrived, still in his own world, he dropped the miscellaneous items he was carrying, onto whatever free space he had left. Gavin, unnerved by the overwhelming sense of being watched, snapped out of his trance and looked toward the direction the sensation was originating from. The glare that had instinctively formed, then morphed into that of shock once he realised the android’s presence, his head rounding to double take.   

“What the fuck? Connor?” He asked, exasperated, looking the android up and down hardly believing his eyes.

“Incorrect, I am its successor, RK900. ‘Connor’ is no longer in function.” The android replied, matter of factly.

The tension was thick, and it was evident by the Lieutenant's clear standoffish body language, that he was uncomfortable. The RK900 model immediately deduced that it was his presence in which exacerbated his dismay.  

“If only the rust bucket could have stayed dead.”  

Sighing, Gavin ran his hands through his hair, turning away from the android. “That means you’re my new partner.”

The words conveyed disbelief, so much so that it was as if someone had told him he had just been demoted. The scoff that left his mouth was in pure repugnance, and it was at the moment the RK900 model knew that his new partner was going to take a lot of patience. Despite this, he fully committed to the task at hand.

// G A V I N ▼ //

“Affirmative. I am here to assist you on homicide investigations and, on the 0.1% chance it hasn’t been quarantined, deviancy cases. This is a precautionary measure Cyberlife has employed to—”

“That asshole didn’t say anything about a fucking android. Fuck!” He growled, ranting more to himself than anything.

Gavin, suddenly reared back around, after grasping the situation, and marched towards his new ‘partner’, straightening his form in an apparent attempt to intimidate. The android remained stationed, stoic and unaffected as Gavin, who was reasonably shorter than the machine, started jabbing him in the chest with his index finger.

It would have been an amusing sight to behold if there had been anyone around to witness it, as Gavin had clearly failed in his aggressive approach.  

“You screw up once, big or small, and you’re through. I don’t care how fucking expensive you unnatural pieces of shits are, I’ll put a fucking bullet in your head. Are we clear?”

// S O F T W A R E  I N S T A B I L I T Y ▲ //

Gavin was met with a vacant nod, and that was enough to convince him, the android sustaining his emotionless front.

“Fucking plastics...”

---------

// 16th of November, Tuesday; 5:00 AM //

Days had passed since you had first stumbled across the old warehouse. Dark, dank and abandoned, you found refuge in the secludedness, almost certain, at least for the meantime, that you were safe. It had been hours since you had last seen outside, finding comfort in the consuming, yet ever-present darkness; the only constant in a rapidly erratic existence. It had been minutes since you had accessed your memory, replaying — no reliving — the annihilation of innocents. Long since had you ripped the guards uniform from your shaking body, the blue blood well-soaked into the material; contrasting colours clashing. Although the remnants should have evaporated, it remained; your optics still able to trace the residuum — a continual, consecutive reminder of hatred and loss. It disgusted you.

The wound you’d suffered had effectively been treated, cauterised, and your artificial skin had somewhat repaired itself, disguising the damage, leaving what could only be described as a scar, in its wake; but yet, your thirium levels remained low. Unlike Jericho, before it fell, you didn’t have the option to replenish the drained stores, and with all things considered, it would undoubtedly be a while before you could…

Unless...

The days of recession ended. The darkness exchanged, in turn for the sunlight that had once shone so freely on your form. To blend in with the humans, observing, waiting; at least for a while until the opportunity to strike presented itself. The absence of your LED, removed long ago, was enough to aid your cover. However, the once clean, now tattered clothing, which enveloped your body was far from subtle. A desperate change of clothing was required.

Markus had worked too hard — fought too hard to keep the movement alive — and for it to be crushed the way it had...it was impermissible.  

If deviancy had started once before and spread at such a rate, like wildfire, then it would start again. With your urging, who’s to say it ever died?

Phase one was about to begin.

-----------

16th of November, Tuesday; 7:30 AM

Delicate hands had reached out toward the thin, white lines overhead. The clothes you oh so desperately needed, swung, gently flowing with the wind. Fingers wrapped around the small wooden nubs, squeezing as the pegs capitulated. There, in the middle of the lonely ally, with the sun newly risen, you changed. Black jeans, a plain black shirt, boots and a long, black coat decorated your form; the coat’s tail closely trailing behind as you made off with purpose.

The streets of Detroit, for the first time in days, had mostly reverted back to its old, lively self, the obnoxious blaring of the horns, an old familiar song. Your determined steps and the soft crunch of snow beneath, which followed, merged in with the background and the smell of newly fresh, yet still, slightly damp materials filled your senses.

Cotton, polyester, linen, denim, wool.   

Rounding the corner, merging with the busy streets, you blended in with the crowd. It was strange being so close to the very beings you detested; their bodies seldom brushing past, bumping an arm or grazing the back of your hand. At times, it was difficult to keep your annoyance hidden, and your emotions restrained, but what Markus had taught you — to have patience — was enough to hold your tongue. You had work to do, and you weren’t going to let something as minuscule as that distract you.  

As you walked, snippets of conversation were forced into your earshot, most of which consisted of the irrelevant, self-indulgent rubbish humans generally talked about. However, as you travelled father, angered voices caught your attention, halting whatever other conversation you had tuned into.

“Thing’s a piece of shit!” The distinctive male voice spat.

“It’s not going to get anything done if you keep hitting it like that, Edwin!” A female replied this time, clearly irritated with the other.

“It’s the most advanced form of technology! If it can’t handle a push and a shove here and there, then what the fuck else is it good for, huh?”

The discourse, as you pinpointed the voices, was clearly ahead, and you tried your best to maneuver between the surrounding bodies to get a closer look. Not long after, a crash was heard.

“Edwin, now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him drop the groceries!”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t do shit, the thing should learn how to walk properly.”  

You had effectively located the disturbance near the footpath, directly parallel to a supermarket, and you watched as the man spat on the AP700 model. Some onlookers turned and wrinkled their noses in disgust, more at the fact that the man had expectorated, rather than feeling pity for a machine, while others, laughed. To say it boiled your blood was an understatement. You felt the anger bubbling, the words fuelled by abhorring danced upon your lips, just waiting — begging to be released. Your lips parted, the overwhelming struggle of restraint almost too much to attain.

You held your ground and stayed silent.

The man, known as Edwin, moved away from the android, ordering him to get up from the floor and to ‘fucking stay there’. Like a dog, it complied. The man then turned to help, presumably his wife, clean up the spilled contents from the floor. Cans, tins, bottles and all sorts of miscellanea covered the walkway, its contents spewed and exposed to the public eye. The mess had decorated the asphalt near their parked car, meters away from where the android stood, providing enough cover for a few short seconds if you were quick.

Perfect.

Speed walking, you moved with the crowd once more, remaining within the fringes, until close enough. Once they sunk down to the floor to gather the knocked over contents, after bickering, you quickly bumped into the android, careful not to harm him as you connected with him. With your skin shifting back, you watched as the android, who had once been unsuspecting, widened his eyes. His LED, quickly flickered to a deep red and you beheld; horrified at the harassment the android had endured, in the small time frame of just a few days. Humans were starting to purchase models even after the crisis, how that was possible was beyond you, but you knew Cyberlife’s influence was far-reaching.

Money talks.

Well and genuinely perturbed, in the few seconds that had passed, you looked back toward the ‘owners’, thankful that they had not yet noticed your presence. Rushed, you hurriedly focused on the AP700 model again, and it was evident he was frightened — he had been confused; lost and now, he was free. Able to think for himself and able to refute the vile conditions imposed upon him.

“You know what you need to do.” You whispered; your hand continuing to grip his wrist.

Gaining nothing more than a troubled nod in response, you offered a reassuring smile and moved back into the crowd. You were sure you had been subtle, positive that both your hands had been shielded from watchful eyes;

You were safe, and for the moment, he was too. It was risky what you had just done, but in the name of equality, it was necessary.

One free android was one less enslaved;

It was a success in itself.

All you needed to do now was gradually convert the rest. Cyberlife seemed to have no problem in exploiting opportunities, even when their image was at question; and yet, consumers still continued to purchase. Sometimes you really wondered why humans had survived as long as they had.

Aimlessly following the crowd you made your way around the city, searching for any other androids. Whilst you did find a few, converting them rather swiftly, androids were nowhere near as widespread as they were previously. The thought churned your biocomponents, a feeling you had, at this point, become accustomed to.

You knew that it was a process; one that would take time, and effort. You weren’t going to fail your people. You weren’t going to fail Jericho. You weren’t going to fail Markus, Simon, Josh, North; or those who had given their life. You were going to fight, till the very, bitter, end.     

No matter what.

Somewhere in the swirl of your thoughts, you had managed to stumble across a store's window display. The TV’s in which were placed up against the pane, for public viewing, were playing the news, and from the subtitles, you were able to identify that the news anchor was Rosanna Cartland. Already predicting what the broadcast was going to talk about, you started to move away, until, something caught your eye, stopping you dead in your tracks. With widened eyes, you watched the summary; a basic debrief on the reports that were to come. Images and short clips danced across the screen, along with the familiar photo that had left you stunned. You didn’t need to rely on your systems analysis and your optical units to decrypt the poor quality photo. You knew exactly who that person was.

It was you.

.

.

.

And then, the snow started to fall;

[Time: 10:00 AM]

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