#create a taxi app

[businessadvisorrobert]

Successful Tactics To Follow For Your Uber Clone App

Whether it's passion, a strong business mindset, the desire to earn more income, or any other reason, you can find your all-in-one solution through the Uber clone app.

Technology is a dynamic sphere, fulfilling everyone’s requirements and making anything possible. In this vast landscape, clone app development emerges as a solution for entrepreneurs.

If you're already familiar with clone app development but unsure how to present it convincingly, this article discusses successful tactics that can firmly establish your business.

Let’s jump in! 

Back To Front Work Analysis of the Uber Clone App 

Okay! Let’s create a scenario! 

There is a market for gadgets, where a Sony brand camera is available in all the stores of the market. How do you find the right store? Now you list your needs like cost, features, and quality to match with each camera that you see in the stores. In the crowded market, your product needs to stand the best. Uber is hitting 40-75% of the entire market. 

Three enthusiastic business people have changed the ride-hailing industry with their ideas, understanding the right algorithm that customers require. A key protocol is providing a convenient experience. In the convenience realm, everything must be completed quickly. 

You have a major question: how can I survey in the challenging landscape? There are no big problematic things. Let’s break it and find secret germs. 

Completing the giants in the field initially is not a good idea, instead, create a segment with your ideas. Be unique and original with the right platform! 

As said, distance from giant heads. Also, you need to be particular about where you have fewer competitors. 

 If you start a ride-hailing business, don’t think of settling with urban areas. In the present time, rural areas hold a high scope for this industry. Mobile app users are everywhere, and you can achieve your business goals easily everywhere. 

In the competition, the level of quality and quantity is not as important as the platform’s performance, productivity, and more. 

Let’s see the aspects to achieve the essentials! 

Steps To Make Your Riding-Hailing Business Easy With Uber Clone

A knowledge of the industry helps you build a long-term business.  When you start from this perspective, you can easily find the Taxi app clone. Let’s see the process between the start and the final! 

Analyze The Market Details

If you are perplexed in the initial stage, watch your competitors’ moves. With the gathered information, you can create a template that takes you to the right path. Many start the process without thinking about the future requirements and are stuck in between. During the immutable time, the information will help you and clear your doubts. 

You can divide this process into two primary and secondary methods. Create an easy and right roadmap for further steps. 

Documenting Competitors Practicability

Imagine that you are on a mission to find something, and you need to act as a cartographer to find your business venture path. You can follow both major ways of studying, book learning and street learning. 

Similarly, you will study the competitors and create a roadmap to your business launching. It is not like copying their work. It is a technique driving new ideas out from the existing idea. 

Once you have enough insights about the information, the next duty is to construct your Taxi app clone. Let’s see the steps to follow in the process! 

Brainstorming Into SWOT Analysis 

Think you are constructing a building in a crowded city. Firstly, you gather things like land, employees, and more required for it. In the business, to build an app, you need to follow SWOT. 

Okay! What is SWOT analysis? It helps you understand the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats for your business. You can create Uber Clone app without leaving any opportunities that level up your business.  To understand SWOT, you need developers and digital markets with your team's help. They can drive factors that will not be supportive of your business and are great factors for your business. Be mindful in this step not to leave data. 

To tell in another way, you need to document every business move of yours. SWOT is a helping assistant to move further steps in the process. 

To acquire everything, you need to strengthen yourself in technology! 

Technology: Next Step For Success

If you are learning aircraft, first you need to study the functionalities and tools to master it. It takes time but it is easily achievable. 

The controllers of the aircraft are important. Similarly, a user-friendly platform is your key controller. It is the centre of the platform, letting its users use it seamlessly. Next, you will see things that are needed for your business. With the assistance of the development team, you can get the right technologies that will be the backbone of your business.

As you sit in the controller chair of your enterprise, consider not to over press every button and going in the align. The efficiency of your business depends on your process, so make it right. 

Tying Up, 

In the business. Never think to take the first step from the 10th step. Slow and steady businesses opt for the long run. 

You can make your long-term goal business perfect with the Best Uber clone Script app as it provides the required features and functionalities for a ride-hailing business. 

Yet, there are factors like cost, revenue, and development process. You can find this information on my profile. Kindly check them out for insightful sessions. 

[codebrewlabs07]

Crafting a Taxi App: Key Steps to Design, Develop, and Deploy

Discover the essential stages of build a taxi app. Get insights into user-friendly features and reliable dispatching systems. Get expert tips for creating a taxi app that ensures a seamless user experience and efficient operations. Start your app development journey today.

[taxiappdevelopments-blog]

Code Brew Labs provides a robust Taxi Dispatch Software solution that aids in the management and coordination of taxi vehicle dispatch to consumers. We offer all the essential elements that can't be missed in taxi dispatch software, such as numerous payment choices, real-time tracking, manual bookings, pre-booking & scheduling, and many more. Contact us today & let's get started!

[taxi-dispatch-software]

Create Taxi App & Expand Your Taxi Business - Code Brew Labs

Code Brew Labs is an advanced taxi app development company that offers you the best taxi app development services in the market. Our taxi dispatch software system is proven to drive efficiency, productivity, and ultimate growth to the taxi booking businesses. We also provide all the modern-day features in our software and are compatible with both android & iOS devices.

As a skilled taxi app development company, Code Brew Labs will create taxi app for you following your organization's needs. Our developers have extensive expertise in developing white-label taxi booking apps to help you grow your business operations. We also provide you with a wide range of features, like driver tracking, real-time ride updates, several payment methods, 24*7 technical support, and many more.

[probablyasocialecologist]

After nearly 15 years, Uber claims it’s finally turned an annual profit. Between 2014 and 2023, the company set over $31 billion on fire in its quest to drive taxi companies out of business and build a global monopoly. It failed on both fronts, but in the meantime it built an organization that can wield significant power over transportation — and that’s exactly how it got to last week’s milestone. Uber turned a net profit of nearly $1.9 billion in 2023, but what few of the headlines will tell you is that over $1.6 billion of it came from unrealized gains from its holdings in companies like Aurora and Didi. Basically, the value of those shares are up, so on paper it looks like Uber’s core business made a lot more money than it actually did. Whether the companies are really worth that much is another question entirely — but that doesn’t matter to Uber. At least it’s not using the much more deceptive “adjusted EBITDA” metric it spent years getting the media to treat as an accurate picture of its finances. Don’t be fooled into thinking the supposed innovation Uber was meant to deliver is finally bearing fruit. The profit it’s reporting is purely due to exploitative business practices where the worker and consumer are squeezed to serve investors — and technology is the tool to do it. This is the moment CEO Dara Khosrowshahi has been working toward for years, and the plan he’s trying to implement to cement the company’s position should have us all concerned about the future of how we get around and how we work.

[...]

Uber didn’t become a global player in transportation because it wielded technology to more efficiently deliver services to the public. The tens of billions of dollars it lost over the past decade went into undercutting taxis on price and drawing drivers to its service — including some taxi drivers — by promising good wages, only to cut them once the competition posed by taxis had been eroded and consumers had gotten used to turning to the Uber app instead of calling or hailing a cab. As transport analyst Hubert Horan outlined, for-hire rides are not a service that can take advantage of economies of scale like a software or logistics company, meaning just because you deliver more rides doesn’t mean the per-ride cost gets significantly cheaper. Uber actually created a less cost-efficient model because it forces drivers to use their own vehicles and buy their own insurance instead of having a fleet of similar vehicles covered by fleet insurance. Plus, it has a ton of costs your average taxi company doesn’t: a high-paid tech workforce, expensive headquarters scattered around the world, and outrageously compensated executive management like Khosrowshahi, just to name a few. How did Uber cut costs then? By systematically going after the workers that deliver its service. More recently, it took advantage of the cost-of-living crisis to keep them on board in the same way it exploited workers left behind by the financial crisis in the years after its initial launch. Its only real innovation is finding new ways to exploit labor.

[bitterbutblue]

zhu yuan angst

wait for me to come home ☆ zhu yuan x reader

~ my birthday present for zhu yuan is her girlfriend dying ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"So dinner at.. where again?"

"Waterfall soup?"

"Waterfall.. oh, the place near Random Play?"

"Mhm!"

"What time?"

"Uh.. I get off work at five-thirty, let's say six?"

"Great, see you there, baby."

"Ah- don't say that!"

"Why not?"

"It's embarrassing..."

"We've been dating for three years?"

You laugh at your girlfriend's flustered rambling- something about it being more embarrassing when she's at work or whatnot. You really weren't listening. Her voice always puts you under some sort of spell, where you become this lovey dovey, annoyingly sappy version of yourself. You have a stupidly lopsided grin on your face as she mumbles about how she should get back to work but she's so excited to see you tonight.

"Love you, Zhu Yuan!"

"Ack- don't...love you too." she mumbles the last part out quickly and quietly, but then quickly sends a follow up text after:

from: my officer <3:

I'm so sorry!!!

I love you sosososososo much

It's embarrassing to say it out loud in front of my coworkers...

I love youuuuuuuuuuuuu

to: my officer <3

love you most, my darlingggg <3

You just giggle at her texts before putting your phone away.

If you knew what was going to happen next, you probably would've written her a note or recorded a voice message for her- tell her how much you truly love her, how she was everything to you. But you don't really have time to do all that. You really only have a three second window between staring down at a car way past the speed limit and dying.

You hope she knows that your last thought was her.

She waits at Waterfall Soup at 6 on the dot- like you agreed on. She hums to herself, starting awkward conversations with General Chop and bidding Belle and Wise farewell as they finish their meal. She stands and stands, fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket and clicking at random apps on her phone. The minutes continue to pass, one by one, but you still don't show up. She sighs, trying to push down the disappiontment as she fires you another text.

to: my girlfriend !! <3

Where are you?

Everything okay?

Another ten minutes pass, nothing.

to: my girlfriend !! <3

Hello?

Did you forget?

She started to grow annoyed- at the end she decides to call you. The phone rings, rings, rings... and nothing. She groans, pushing her phone into her pocket. She's tired and hungry. She calls you again, and again. By the third failed call, her annoyance turns into worry. She begins feels her stomach churn as she goes through all the possibilities of what might've happened to you- maybe your phone just died. Surely, your phone just died, right?

She calls your closest friend, Grace or something. She doesn't pick up either. Now she actually feels like she should be panicking. Grace refuses to pick up, and she keeps calling until a different line comes in- she doesn't recognise the number but in her line of work any call can be important. She sighs, groaning frustratedly as she picks up.

"Hello-?"

"Is this Zhu Yuan?"

"Yeah?"

"This is New Eridu Hospital. You were listed as an emergency contact for..."

They said your name.

Your name.

Human language was created so that people could communicate, people could plan, organise, discuss. But the human language also has this incredibly ability to make you feel, and it's truly inrcedible how a few words can cause your entire world to shatter into nothing.

"She's not going to make it."

"What?"

Her own voice is shaky, quiet. She can barely hear herself. She feels her blood run cold, her hands shaking as the tips of her fingers grow as cold as ice. She swallows, shaking her head.

"What?"

"You should-"

She doesn't even let them finish, she's already hailed a cab off the street. The entire time she has to fight the sickening urge to throw up, her heart is beating in her chest and she can't breathe. She wants to beg the taxi driver to go faster but there's only a certain speed they can reach up to before they literally break the sound barrier. By the time she arrives at the hospital, she doesn't even bother waiting for change. She throws down a wad of cash and runs- dashing through the doors of the hospital. The bright lights and the stench of disinfectant hits her like a truck

"Hello? I'm here to see-"

"Zhu Yuan?"

She freezes. She recognises that voice- Grace. Seated next to her was her sister, Koleda. Grace's eyes were red as she wipes at the tears on her face.

"Grace? Grace, where is she, is she okay?"

Grace just breaks down into sobs and she already knows the answer to the question. She can feel her knees going weak, collapsing to the floor. Koleda rushes up next to her, her own voice hoarse and raspy as she wraps a comforting arm around Zhu Yuan.

"I'm sorry." Koleda hushes out, but she can barely focus.

All she can do is stare ahead, tunnel visioning as she feels every ounce of her being slowly crumble- each piece slowly being torn off or chipped away as Grace echoes back what happened earlier that day. You had gotten hit by a car soon after she had just gotten off from work, and there was little to no chance of survival. It was a miracle you even made it to the hospital alive, but Zhu Yuan wasn't fast enough. Fuck, not even Grace was allowed to see you because it was that fucked up.

She just stays on the ground, refusing to move. Zhu Yuan felt sick just thinking about it, her breathing shallow as she watches the life she's built turn into just a memory right in front of her eyes. She watches her future turn into the past, her life diverge from what it was supposed to be into a new unknown. She watches you fade, she can still feel your smile against her neck when she hugs you close. She can still feel your kisses against her cheek after a long day of work but it's only a feeling now.

It'll only stay a feeling now.

She never even got to see your body. She never got to hold your hand for the last time- only watching as they lowered you to the ground. It never felt real until that day. The day she watched you, in a box, lower into nothing but a ditch and she wails. She begs them to stop and she begs you to just wake up. She cries, screaming for you to wake up- just wake up. She hopes this is all some sick and fucked up prank but the box just lowers and lowers- until you become nothing more than a memory. Your texts become nothing more but a reminder, your photographs are nothing but taunts.

from: my girlfriend!! <3 (sent 5 days ago)

u r my world zhu yuan

missed u

excited to see u soon!

last seen 5 days ago

[glass--beach]

hi !!!! :3 so, pd seems, in my reading like its a decent part about the kinda mass surveillance and commodification of personhood shit the world has got going on rn, in a kinda (yes, its cliche, but the radiohead influence makes it a bit more palatable) modern ok computer-esque way. anyways, i wanted to ask u, what motivated u to write about these subjects especially ??

i am transgender and so so scared

near every single person in the world carries a camera on them at all times with the capability of broadcasting its view to all of the internet. we have a culture of emotional armor and swords built to slip between its plates, to be angry or afraid or upset or even the wrong kind of happy is cringe. those who believe in some shadow government in some hidden room somewhere spying on us at all times are delusional - this is wrong - where labor can be outsourced for cheaper it will be. taxis are expensive to run, making people drive their own cars and find customers on an app for measly pay is much more cost effective. giving a music writer a salary is too pricey compared to hiring freelancers on a per article basis. and now surveillance has been, like so many other things, outsourced to civilians and their cameras and smartphone apps. a man sitting oddly on a couch is cheating on his girlfriend, a fold in a woman’s clothing is a hidden penis, we are the panopticon and the prisoner… this is the “society of control” - freedom as tyranny.

the nature of reality is at stake in our culture - “what is a woman?” “a woman” - those who refuse to understand transgender people are helplessly tied to some “deep reality” - “i know what you are!!” - which is ultimately an enforcement of the status quo socially constructed reality. transgender people recognize reality as something socially constructed and seek to bend it to their liking… pronouns and chosen names are after all meant for others to use rather than ourselves, they are third person terms, gender never worms its way into the terms “I” and “We”. our personhood is defined by other people, and can be invalidated or revoked by others… the insecurity created by this tension is ripe for advertising. take this boner pill, it will make you more of a man. take this injection, it will make you a woman. we are defined by our outside, our house, our car, our clothes, our skin, our bodies.

this is where the “family nexus” concept comes in - groups of people create their own pockets of reality. to christians, god is real and to deny this is insanity. to hardcore atheists, believing in god is insanity. to many psychiatrists years ago and some still today, to believe to be a different gender is insanity… and the insane deserve less rights than the sane, they don’t even know what is best for themselves. queer people seek to create a new sane. or rather to go “insane” in our own way the same way anyone who believes in anything does. create our own nexus where our experience of reality is simply true.

hope that helps at all and makes any amount of sense

oh yeah ok computer… maybe i’ll go off about that another time… much of the themes and sound of that record were a jumping off point for us. written in the 1990s, the end of history, time has marched on and yet we are still here stuck in capitalist reality. “did you lie to us tony” as if labour could ever do something about the fact that post 1991 “there is no alternative”… deeply tragic record but love runs through all of it undeniably… maybe i’ll go off about that in another post…

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [2]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

A/N: i’m fairly sure i’ve created two men made up entirely of red flags. Please mind the warnings, this work is dark.

previous chapter

The dry, arid heat that awaits you outside of the airport is a welcome change from the muggy Boston summer. Your phone vibrates insistently in your pocket as all of the notifications you’d missed come pouring in. Texts from your sister, pictures and videos of her excitedly documenting her landing and taxi journey to the cliffside resort. 

 You laugh a little as you scroll through them—she’s wasted no time getting comfortable. Her latest text appears at the top of your screen with a ping.

 Nathalie: yooooo where are you? this place is crazy! 

 We just landed, I think Ransom’s getting the car now. Is it nice?

 Nathalie: insane. it’s like all these cute little cabanas, and there’s like four pools, a tennis court, omg. you’re going to love it. i can’t believe it. 

 The pictures certainly seem to make you want to agree—from the looks of it, it seems like Lloyd’s gone all out. A hand settles onto your shoulder, and you look up from an aesthetic picture of Nathalie’s manicured toes in the sand. Ransom’s thumb rubs soothing circles against your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt. 

 “You ready? I think they’re pulling the car around now.” If it had been left up to you, you probably would have selected something a little more practical and inexpensive, but the Bentley that rolls to a stop at the curb in front of you is anything but. Ransom grabs the keys from the valet, and motions for you to hand him your suitcase.

 “Is-is Lloyd not coming?” You cast a glance over your shoulder, searching the crowd for Lloyd. You don’t see him—in fact, now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him since the baggage claim. 

 “He’s got his own ride. You know him, everything with a side of business.”It’s kind of a relief, having him gone. Being able to lower the protective walls you raise to shield yourself from Lloyd’s… Lloyd. You slide into the passenger seat and buckle in, and Ransom push starts the Bentley. 

 “Can you do the gps?” He asks, and you oblige, pulling up the address from the chat logs between you and Lloyd. You can’t help but grimace as you read them. There’s nothing overtly wrong per-se, but his texts feel a little… over familiar, the same way it does when he speaks to you.

 Lloyd: Here’s all the ticket information. I trust you two know how to have a good time. 😉

 Lloyd: Held up, are we? My brother’s always been the impatient one. 

 All of his messages border on inappropriate, at least, in your opinion. Perhaps it’s because he’s his twin, but Ransom steadfastly ignores their rather promiscuous nature. You scroll through until you reach the link to the reservation, pulling it up in your maps app. 

 “It says it’s like five hours from here.” You set the phone up in the little holder, positioning it so Ransom can see it. He blows out a frustrated breath.

 “Five hours? Jesus, Lloyd,” he mutters, shaking his head. You laugh. 

 “I think it’ll be fun,” you say, elbowing your husband. “It’s like we get our own little miniature road trip before the reunion happens and everyone gets here, right? Just us.” He looks at you before shaking his head, a small laugh erupting from between his lips.

 “You and the goddamn silver lining,” he says, chuckling. 

 The summer sun beats down on the windswept landscape, the low bushes all vibrantly green as they fly by the window. It feels good, just the two of you. Well, three, technically. It reminds you of when you’d just started dating Ransom. Back when he’d only just started to feel safe showing you something other than the frat-boy facade. He reaches over to rest his hand on your belly. You aren’t showing yet, but the gesture still feels comforting. 

 You feel truly loved in this moment. Hopeful contentedness isn’t a feeling you are familiar with, and you bask in it as the two of you trade increasingly obscure inside jokes about things you’re sure no one but the man sitting in the car with you would understand. The hours pass so quickly that by the time the two of you arrive, starving, in the small city about thirty minutes from the resort, you’re almost shocked to be there. 

 Ransom pulls into an open spot after going around a few times, and the two of you exit the vehicle, stretching. The classic architecture on the faces of the buildings makes your inner art historian jump for joy. You don’t do much with the degree now, and it makes you feel a little less wasteful to rattle off facts to Ransom at light-speed. He does you the courtesy of at least appearing to be interested, even if he’s not. You don’t have to work, not really. After your internship with the museum had come to an end at graduation, slowly, doing things with Ransom—and inevitably Lloyd—had begun to take up much of your time. 

 There was always an event to go to, a celebration to be had, a trip to take. In fact, the only thing that had seemed to slow the two of you down at all was the positive test taped proudly in the baby book Ransom was already starting with you. You’re honestly a little grateful for the opportunity to take it easy, even if you don’t exactly voice that to Ransom, and perhaps take the space to figure out just what you want your future to look like. 

 After stopping at one of the carts, the two of you sit on the lip of the aged fountain at the center of the square. Ransom trades you a bite of his gyro for your falafel, and he brushes stray crumbs from your lips as he takes it back. You can’t help but smile up at him.

 This is perfect.

 You know it’s silly to think of fairytales and princes at your age, but you can’t help but feel swept off your feet. You don’t know that you’ve ever stopped feeling that way with Ransom. That new love tingle hasn’t gone away, not after two years of dating, and now almost two full years of marriage. 

 “Tell me about this fountain, brainiac,” he teases, grinning playfully down at you when you scowl. “Since you know everything.”

 “I do not,” you insist, rolling your eyes, even though you’re already smiling good naturedly. “But, I mean, at first glance, you know, it’s old.” You run your hand almost reverently along the stone. “There used to be more of them, you can tell if you look at the way the tiling’s messed up.” You point to different spots around the square where the mosaic tiles don’t quite match up, patches looking newer than the rest. 

 “I’m glad one of us was paying attention during those lectures.” 

 “Why were you even in Brown’s class if you’re that bored by art history?” You tease, and Ransom fixes you with a soft smile.

 “How else would I have met you?” 

 You finish your food and reluctantly head back to the car. You know that it’s just a matter of time before the little bubble that’s formed around the two of you is burst by the presence of other people, and you find yourself feeling a little resentful of Lloyd and your sister before you attempt to brush it off. Still, you’re a little pouty by the time you get back to the car, enough that Ransom notices. 

 “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you were having a great day?” He asks. You sigh as you start back up the gps, shrugging. He rolls his eyes at your silence. “Come on.” 

 “It’s stupid.” 

 “That’s never stopped you before,” he teases, grinning when you scowl at him. 

 “I just, you know. I don’t… want it to be over yet.” You say, shaking your head at yourself. “It’s been nice. Just the two of us.” Absently, you pick at a loose thread near the seam of your leggings. “I guess    I’m just feeling a little… selfish.” It makes you feel childish to admit. It doesn’t help that Ransom flashes you a cheshire grin at your confession. 

 “Oh baby. You want me all to yourself?” He asks, running his tongue along his lips suggestively. His fingers dance up your leg, and he kneads the softness of your thigh with one large hand. 

 “What, the plane wasn’t enough?” You ask, a smirk of your own forming on your lips as he rolls his eyes. 

 “What? No,” he scoffs. “You know it’s not enough unless I get to stretch you open on my cock, sweetheart.” His casually delivered words send a hot pulse through your core even as your face heats. Ransom’s thumb rubs ever smaller circles into your skin through the leggings as he makes his way toward the apex of your thighs.

 You whine low in your throat, glancing out of the windows at the lonely road winding its way through the cliffside. Ransom swerves over onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up a cloud of dust from under the wheels as he does so. 

 “Ran, someone’ll—”

 “No one’s gonna see,” Ransom says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He reaches for you over the middle console, and after waffling for a moment, you clamor over it, settling yourself onto his lap. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you steady as he meets your lips with his own. It’s different from the desperate, hungry way he’d kissed you on the plane—you’re not sure how to describe it. Slow, deliberate—possessive. That’s what it is. Ransom kisses you like he owns you. Like he can afford to take his time because he already has you—why rush?

 It makes your cunt swell and twitch around nothing as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your fingers twining in his linen shirt. He smells so good, you can’t help but scrape your teeth against his skin as you trail light, teasing kisses down the side of his throat. Ransom chuckles low in his throat before his hands sink into your hair, tugging your head to the side as he does the same to you, sucking hard enough to bruise. 

 He slides his hands underneath your t-shirt, and he tugs down the cups of your bra, your breasts spilling over the bunched fabric. Ransom rolls your swelling nipples between his fingers, a low hum of appreciation vibrating in his chest. Your breath catches in your throat as his mouth closes around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue before trapping it between his teeth. 

 “Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, his hands falling to your hips. He squeezes them almost reverently before he cups the cheeks of your ass in his hands. “Like you were goddamn made for me.” The brazen hunger in his words makes you shudder. Ransom holds you still as he bucks up, grinding his half hard cock into the warmth between your thighs. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it as he guides you slowly back and forth over his cock. 

 You reach between your bodies, fumbling with the button on his jeans. It comes open after a few tries, and you shove your hand through the hole. A growled curse falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock. He’s thick, the veins throbbing under your fingers as you stroke him. You draw your thumb across the thick, wet head of him, and he groans. He thrusts softly into your palm, his breath puffing across your cheek.

 “Tease,” he rasps, his fingers tangling in your hair again as he forces your mouth down to his. His other hand bunches in the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down to your knees. You yelp as his palm cracks across the cheek of your ass. He kneads the sore flesh before delivering a second slap. You press your face into the crook of Ransom’s neck, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as he spreads your cheeks lewdly, his fingers sliding through the sticky wetness gathered there. 

 Ransom grabs your hand, tugging it away so that he can reposition himself at your entrance. You’d cum on the plane, but something about doing it on your husband’s cock was especially satisfying—and Ransom knew it too. You suck a sharp breath into your lungs as he begins to press your hips downward.

 It’s delicious, the stretch of him filling you inch by inch until it feels like you can’t fit any more—and then you’re seated on his lap again, your leggings rucked up and stretched so far you can hear a few of the elastic threads snapping. Ransom hums low in his throat, and gives a few short thrusts upward, and your eyes roll. 

 “God, Ransom—” He lifts you up before slamming you back down to the base. 

 “Feels good, doesn’t it, Sweetheart?” He coos, and you tighten around him at the praise. “Feels right.” He grinds his hips upward, forcing his cock even further into you. It does, it feels so good you can’t help but stare back at him, wide eyed as you nod desperately. 

 Despite your surroundings, Ransom takes his time. He thrusts up into you with languid, heavy strokes, seating himself firmly in your cunt with curses and deep satisfied moans. 

 “Fucking love how you feel inside,” he says through gritted teeth as his cock forces you open. “Like velvet.” Your head is spinning, your fingers digging into his shoulders as Ransom pushes you closer and closer. You whimper as he continues to egg you on in that teasing drawl. 

“S’my fucking cunt, isn’t she?” You couldn’t help but nod dumbly. “Say it, Sweetheart. Say she’s mine, my pussy.” 

 “T-this is your pussy, Ransom,” the words come out in a pathetic little sob as you grind against him. “Yours!”

 Your agreement seems to unlock something feral in him, and he drives into you with forceful intensity. You bury your face in his collar, gasping. It’s all you can do as he fucks into you with abandon, the car rocking with his efforts. You’re not thinking about that, though, not when every time he sinks the thick, heavy weight of his cock into you, stars explode behind your closed eyelids. He slams into you with a growl, his fingers digging into your hips. 

 “You should cum, Sweetheart,” he says lowly through his clenched teeth. “Wanna feel you fucking milk my cock.” You do, whining as you convulse in his arms. He groans, fucking up into you as you twitch around him. “That’s it,” Ransom throws his head back against the headrest. “That’s what I fucking need.” He thrusts in to the hilt, the head of his cock pressing tightly your cervix as he cums. You can feel every thick pulse as sticky warmth fills you. 

 Ransom makes a low, satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he rubs soft circles into your lower back. After a while, he presses a kiss into your hair, and you sigh. 

 “I hope you’re happy with yourself,” he says, laughing a little breathlessly. “Now we’re late, and a mess.” You can’t help but laugh too, punching his shoulder lightly. 

 “I think I liked that more than I would have in the airplane bathroom,” you say, and Ransom cocks his head at you, as though the little inside joke has gone over his head. 

 “What?”

 “You know,” you say as you begin to straighten your clothes. “What you said, on the plane? The bathroom?” 

 “Oh, yeah. Well, you know. A little more space here in the car,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you. Your husband frowns petulantly as you right your bra and pull down your shirt. You attempt to climb off of him, but slip, your sweaty palm sliding on the center console. “Easy, there. I know I’ve rendered you quite useless—”

 “Shut the hell up, Ransom.”

 “But I think I have some napkins around here somewhere.” You grimace as your thighs rub together wetly.

 “I hope it’s more than some.”

 —

 As the two of you approach the gate, you suddenly feel like the word “hotel” is an inaccurate descriptor for what you’re seeing. There’s security stationed at either side of the white stone pillars, and one of them cracks the golden gate open just enough to slide through the gap. He jogs up to the driver’s side window, and pantomimes for Ransom to lower it. You are only peripherally aware of Ransom showing him your reservation—you’re much more preoccupied with the view. 

 The sea sparkles in the late afternoon sun, crashing against the rocky shore to your left. The water is clear and blue, winking merrily at you as you pass through the gate. Trees line the hard-packed dirt road, but as you round a curve, the path opens up into a courtyard with a small fountain. You were expecting a central building, a gigantic resort with all of the amenities—instead, you’re greeted by the sight of cabanas. They look like fairly new constructions, all polished wood and clean lines. 

 You hop out of the car after Ransom, intending to make your way around to the trunk and grab your bag, but the shrill sound of your own name stops you. You look up just in time to see your sister hurtling towards you. You have only a split second to ready yourself for her impact before she crashes into you like a many-limbed bullet. 

 “I’m so happy to see you!” She squeals, hugging you so tightly you swear you hear bone crack. Your little sister holds on for another moment or two before releasing you. She peeks around the car to address Ransom, who is still wrestling the suitcases out of the trunk. “You got this right? I’m taking her.” She loops her arm through yours. 

 “What, I don’t get the tour?” Ransom asks, closing the trunk of the car firmly. “I’m hurt.” 

 “How am I supposed to get her to talk about you if you’re there?” Nathalie quips, smiling widely when Ransom rolls his eyes. “I’ll return her in one piece, I promise,” she says, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you away. 

 You shoot Ransom a rather apologetic smile over your shoulder, but allow your sister to direct you towards the cabanas. There are four of them total, ringing the little courtyard. You find yourself idly wondering how everyone’s going to fit—your parents, Ransom and Lloyd’s, plus their extended family. It seems a little… small for all of that. Regardless, the thought is pushed from your head as your sister drags you into the one she’s claimed as her own. The little covered porch leads to a well decorated room. It’s large, a canopied bed on one side of the room, and a small kitchenette on the other. In the center of the room, the little sitting area is dominated by Nathalie’s clothes. They’re spread haphazardly over all of the seats in random outfit combinations, the discarded items littering the floor. 

 She hugs you again before the two of you perch on the raised barstools in front of the breakfast bar. 

 “God, I missed you,” she says. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since your birthday party.” 

 “It hasn’t been that long,” you object, reaching for one of the complementary water bottles still sitting in the basket on the counter in front of you. “My birthday was only—” You pause to count on your hand. Three months ago. Shit. She raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to illustrate her point. You hold your hands up placatingly. “Okay, okay, it’s been a while. We’ve just been busy.”

 “What, all of a sudden you’ve got too many vineyard openings to go to? We miss you, you know.” She teases. There’s a grain of salt clinging to her words though, and you can’t help but feel guilty. You hadn’t meant to let your other relationships slide in the wake of your marriage. It was just easy to fall into the pattern of well, just you and Ransom. You feel even guiltier about the earlier resentment you’d felt, swallowing against the sudden thickness in your throat. 

 “Anyway. It’s good to see you.” 

 “You too.” You sigh. “So, why no Jaiden? I would think this would be like, the perfect couple getaway for you two.” You waggle your eyebrows, and she scoffs, shoving you. “

 “I told you, we’re—”

 “Not doing labels,” you imitate her, making air quotes with your fingers. 

 “Exactly. I don’t want him getting all attached just because he met mom.” She hops off of the stool, and walks around the other side of the counter to the fridge. “You want some prosecco? There was some in the mini bar.” You can’t help but snort as she pulls the bottle from the otherwise empty fridge door. 

 “That’s definitely not mini.” 

 “I know, right?” She giggles, opening the cabinets as she looks for glasses. 

 “I’m not drinking, actually,” you reply as she sets one in front of you. You watch the bubbles fizz and then disappear as the pours the alcohol into one of the glasses. Nathalie raises an eyebrow.

 “Not drinking? What are you sick or something? We’re on vacation, girl!” She pours you half a glass, and pushes it back towards you. “Come on, let’s party!” She takes a sip and sighs with exaggerated satisfaction. “Get a little drinky-drink in you, and then we’ll walk down to the beach, it’s gorgeous.” 

 “I can’t, Nat,” you say, this time pushing it away with force. “Seriously, just drop it.” She squints at you, before snatching it up with a sigh. She combines it with her own glass, making it dangerously full before she takes an appreciative sip. 

 “Fine, fine, weirdo. What are you, pregnant?” She says, laughing as she takes another sizable gulp. You swallow thickly as a thousand responses all rush to your tongue, each trying to leap out of your throat first. A joking What? no, comes to mind, as does a shocked You can’t be serious! But neither of those reaches your gaping mouth. You sputter, trying to think of what to say as her eyes widen. 

 “Oh my God you are! You’re fucking pregnant?” She shrieks, and you grab her arm, shushing her. “Ow!”

 “Keep your stupid voice down, Nat!” You hiss, glancing around the empty room like you’re expecting Ransom to emerge from behind the ottoman with a disapproving frown. “Shit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m not supposed to tell anybody, Nat.” 

 “Technically I guessed.”

 “Yeah, you and Lloyd have that in common,” you mutter, glaring at her. Nathalie doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, instead, taking another sip of Prosecco. 

 “I knew there was a reason to celebrate,” she giggles, and you groan. “Ugh, Lloyd.” She grimaces. “I saw him sulking by the pool earlier. He’s a real prick when he’s upset, you know that?”

 “He’s a real prick all the time,” you mutter. “You saw him? He’s here?”

 “Oh he’s here alright,” Nathalie says, swirling the Prosecco in her glass conspiratorially. “I don’t know what had his panties all in a bunch, but he practically bowled me over.”  She rolled her eyes. “Weird ass.” 

 “Hey, he paid for your tickets,” you remind her, and Nathalie shrugs. 

 “A weird ass with money, then.” You can’t help but giggle at her irreverence. “Come on, let me show you the beach!” She downs the rest of her drink in a few swallows while you use the bathroom, and then you follow her out of the little back door. “Isn’t this view unbeatable?” 

 You find you can’t disagree. The well manicured grass leading up to the fenced overlook is something to behold—the sea glitters aquamarine beyond it, the sun hanging low and orange in the sky. Nathalie leads you over to a set of steps, carved straight out of the rock. They’re a little slippery, but the railing is well constructed, so you manage just fine as you make your way down to the shore. It’s like a postcard, you think as your feet sink into the warm white sand. If Lloyd had spent fifteen thousand dollars on a bracelet, you can’t help but wonder what he spent on this. 

 I don’t even want to know.

 “Isn’t it amazing? Like oh my God.” Nathalie kicks up a little sand. “In case I’ve forgotten, thanks for marrying a millionaire.” She giggles as you shove her, and she takes off toward the water. You watch her head down the beach, content to stand with your feet in the surf. 

 “The prodigal daughter returns.” Lloyd’s low drawl is unexpected, and you turn with a little gasp. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

 “I guess you’re just good at it.” You say with a thin smile. “This place is amazing, Lloyd, thank you for inviting us.” It’s the graceful acknowledgement you’ve practiced, and he looks pleased to hear it. 

 “You’re welcome.” His grin turns brazen. “Better late than never, am I right?” Perhaps it’s the hormones, the flight, or the drive, but you feel less than inclined to brush off his implication. 

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask irritatedly, and he licks his lips. 

 “Hey, I’m not judging,” he holds his hands up placatingly, exaggerating the movements. “If you and Ransom found a sweet little roadside attraction, who am I to say a thing about it?” Your face heats with embarrassment and anger, and when you open your mouth to respond, at first no sound comes out. 

 “You—”

 “Oh, hey. Lloyd.” Nathalie’s flat intonation takes the wind right out of your sails as she jogs back over. “Thanks again for inviting, you know, the extended fam,” she says, looping her arm through yours. “It’s seriously the coolest place I have ever been.” 

 “No need to thank me,” he says smoothly, shaking his head as his eyes light on yours again. “Like I told your sister. I do for my family.” He flashes a charming smile at the both of you. “Glad you’re enjoying yourselves.” He sticks his hands into his pockets, his thumbs hanging lazily on his belt loops as he heads off down the beach, whistling. 

 Nathalie grimaces. “I saw him and figured I better come back,” she says, squeezing your arm. “Weird ass.” The two of you watch him go, and you shudder, a sudden cool breeze kicking up off the water. 

 “Yeah,” you say softly. “Weird.” 

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[breyito]

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Three: Paths Converging

Continuation of Day 1 and 2 of @painlandweek

Part 1 Part 2 Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

Here on AO3

A/N: Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the delay! My ADHD has been kicking my ass for the last couple of weeks and istg i feel like i can't do anything. Anyways. I had to split this chapter in half, cause it was getting ridiculously long again, and I wasnt going to finish the rest of it today. (I have this new app on my phone that is voice-to-text and it changed my life! All the dialogues i keep forgetting bc of lack of energy to write i can just *dictate* and it feels so good lol. It also lenghtened this quite a bit, tho.) No moodboard for this one either, not yet. I'll try to make one tomorrow (or in a few hours, as it is, once again, 5am). No beta and English is not my native language, so any mistakes please point them out. I hope you enjoy this one! I'm very curious about what you'll think of this one ;P Oh, WARNING:This contains violence, threats of rape towards Charles and other children's souls, etc.

Part Three: Paths Converging

They headed back to the office. On the way, Crystal with her phone in her ear, Edwin had explained the general gist of things to her. Mainly that the other ghost hadn’t known the location of the lair of the witch, but had visited a few times. To allow him to travel there via mirror, she had given him a token attuned to him and his energy. They could use the token, but not to travel with it more than once; and definitely not to escape the place. (Not to mention that Crystal would have never let Edwin go on his own alone, without even the possibility of helping him. She was glad, still, that the ghost boy had not even suggested that.)

“So how can we use it?” she asked, looking right at him, as she plopped down on the couch. They were inside the office now and nosy taxi drivers couldn’t watch her suspiciously anymore. Also, she was exhausted and couldn’t bother with more acting for a couple of hours.

Edwin had gone straight to the massive pile of books on top of every single flat surface, including boxes full of files. He had looked at the books covering the desk for a full thirty seconds and then sent a wave of the black smoke at them, and they actually began moving on their own towards the floor. Crystal was…ignoring that for now, for the sake of her sanity. (How many things was she already ignoring?)

“I think I can combine a couple of rituals to create a sort of…tether, between Charles and myself.” he replied to her, as he removed his outer layers. “This would, basically, allow us to communicate with him and follow his energy to the place where the witch has absconded him.”

“Don’t tethers usually need something more physical to work?” she questioned, curious. At least that’s what the book she had been reading before their last case went wildly off course had said. Maybe the black smoke allowed him to tweak the limits?

“I have something more physical of his.” Edwin said, touching Charles’ necklace still around his neck. ”And for me, well, some blood or the ghost equivalent should work.”  His eyes showed his mind went far, far away for a couple of moments. She said nothing, remembering the sudden rush of cold, dark, wet she had felt the last time she touched it. Edwin eventually shook off the melancholy and straightened his posture.

“I will need to compile the different arrays and rites I need to build this ritual. It will take me at least a few hours, so I suggest you rest up.” 

“Are you sure I can’t help you…?” she asked, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t let her. Building rituals from scratch was a whole new area and she had exactly zero experience with that.

“Crystal.” He sighed, already spreading an alarming amount of books on the now clean desk. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you have a working knowledge of any of the Celtic languages, Aramaic, Latin or Fuþorc Runes I’ll ask you to keep out of it.”

“Okay, okay.” she rolled her eyes. Kicking her shoes off, she got comfortable on the couch and covered herself with the blanket.  “But wake me up if you need to leave, alright?” she mumbled, half asleep already. “I don’t wanna panic if you’re not there when I wake up…”

Several hours later, Edwin shook her awake. Still woozy from sleep, she understood he needed a specific kind of knife he didn’t have but knew where to get. And that he had to travel by mirror to the place. She mumbled her understanding to him, and he left. 

It was only when she was about to drop back into a deep sleep that her brain actually zoned in to the important part. She sat up on the couch so suddenly she felt dizzy.

“ Esther Finch’s fucking house!?” she yelled at the flat mirror, frustrated beyond belief. “Are you shitting me , Edwin!?” she cursed at the empty office. She creamed into the pillow a bit more, then got up. At least this should give her time to shower.

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

Edwin really doesn’t want to go back to Port Townsend. The place was bleak, damp and filled with memories of suffering. Whether it is mental, emotional or physical; he’d experienced more pain in that little town in a single month than in the rest of the world in the last fifteen years. 

But Charles was missing. Taken by another witch with a penchant for sick, twisted games and children’s pain. The ritual he came up with was novel and needed every single element to work. The dagger was fundamental. Edwin could not risk wasting more time looking for another knife with the same qualities when he already knew the location of one.

So he travelled to Port Townsend via mirror. He landed in Crystal’s old room above Jenny’s shop, and walked up to the house in a disguise. It was better than trying to travel directly inside Finch’s house, which surely had enchantments against ghosts using her mirrors that way.

As soon as his feet landed inside a ten metre radius, he could feel the repellent wards telling him to go away. This magic felt different than Finch’s. Probably the Cat King, then. Or maybe Tragic Mick? He ignored the compulsion, and kept walking up the path into the porch. 

He took off his glasses before reaching the stairs, and became his true self again. A loud caw immediately greeted him. He paused and looked back,  and saw Monty in his true form on a tree branch. The pause allowed the crow to land in the handrail of the porch, exuding an air of disapproval. Edwin sighed. 

“I need to get something from inside this house.” he said, focusing on one of the crows’ eyes. “I’m not going to-” he paused before he promised something he couldn’t keep. Because he couldn’t promise not to hurt someone with what he took from inside. “I’m going to get something from inside this house.” He said instead. “And you are not going to stop me.”

Monty lifted into the air, agitated, cowing. His wings produced so much wind that Edwin took a step back, but then straightened up and pulled his notebook and held it open with one hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Monty.” he stated. “But I will if you try to stop me.” His other hand opened and a bright orange flame erupted, tinged with wisps of black. An alarmed cry made Edwin feel like garbage, but he held the flame on his palm. In control, but ready to attack.

The crow flew off then, shrill caws on his way. Edwin took a deep breath and extinguished the fire, wiping his hand on his coat. He pocketed his notebook and climbed the stairs. Fortunately, he went in as easily as he had done for Becky.

By the time Edwin had found the dagger, and snatched a book that looked like it had been involved in the creation of the ghastly machine that so much pain it had caused him; it was already too late. He felt a pulse of energy from outside, and cursed under his breath. He could try to undo the spells on the mirrors of the house, but that would take too long. So he sighed and marched outside. 

“Edwin, Edwin, Edwin. You don't write, you don't call…” the Cat King said with a fake moue. Edwin looked up and saw Monty flying in circles above their heads. Little snitch , he thought, resentful.

“Cat King.” he said, nodding in respect, trying to walk around him. “I'm just leaving.” But diplomacy never worked on him. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The other man clicked his tongue, stepping in Edwin’s path. The ghost boy stopped where he was, not willing to get closer.

“What do you think you are doing, entering the house of the Wicked Witch of the West?” The shapeshifter asked, sauntering around him. He was wearing heeled boots, and it added a little height difference that irked Edwin.  

“I already have what I came here looking for. Now, if you please, I'm in a hurry.” Edwin tried to give another step, but the Cat King walked closer again, forcing him to step back. He was not putting himself in reach again. Monty cowed, flying faster, agitated.

“No. I don't think I please.” he tilted his head. “Knowledge like Esther's is dangerous. And I just can't let you leave with something dangerous.” The trickster’s tone was still playful, and it was grating on Edwin’s nerves.

“Knowledge is just knowledge.” the detective said, exasperated. “And I'm not asking you for permission.” he countered, snappish, head held high. “You're wasting my time .” The Cat King’s eyes shone.

“You should always have time for me, dear.” he said, smile cutting. “I can always just trap you here again, Edwin.” He offered, the smile still on.

“...And I can always start killing your subjects until you let me leave. But we are not doing that, are we, Thomas? ” he smirked back, biting. There was something cold in those green eyes that made the shifter want to shiver. The faint wisps of black coming up from the ground were certainly unnerving. Monty screeched in alarm and abruptly landed on a branch several metres down. 

“You know my name.” the Cat King realised, stepping back. 

“I do. I know a lot of things about you now.” the ghost added, taking a step forward. “You like to play games . But I already knew that, from last time.” Edwin took another step closer. “The difference is, Charles is not with me right now. And I don't have a lot of patience for games when he is in danger.” he snarled. 

“So that is why you're doing this? For him? You came all the way to America, to the house where you were tortured in, just for him ?” Thomas asked, indignant.

“I would do many more things for him.” Edwin stated, staring right into those yellow eyes, daring. The shifter scoffed, leaning closer, looking down at the ghost.

“Like threatening me?” The man asked, incredulous.

“I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you.” Edwin said, looking up, teeth bared. It looked more like a show of aggression from a cornered animal than a smile. “You're either on my side, or standing in my fucking way. And I'll get through anything standing in my way to get to him.” Their faces were only a few centimetres apart now, noses almost touching.

Thomas knew, in that moment, that Edwin was being completely honest. He seemed not to care a single bit what could happen to him as long as he could leave to go help his little friend. Nor what enemies he could leave behind. The Cat King felt a bit peeved about it, quite hot under the collar, and a lot jealous. That kind of loyalty to another person, to the point of detriment to yourself? He’d never felt it nor had he had it. It was alluring , damn it.   

“Deathly little thing, aren’t you?” he whispered to this mysterious boy, unwillingly feeling more attracted to him still. The tension between them finally broke when Edwin’s lips formed a teasing smile and his eyes softened a little.

“Only when I have to.” he whispered back, before breaking his gaze and pressing the faintest of kisses on Thomas’ jaw, surprising him. He then sidestepped him and walked out of the yard. 

By the time the Cat King turned around, Edwin was already jumping into a puddle, travelling to where he needed to be. Monty cowed twice and Thomas felt the hidden amusement.

“Oh, shut it, bird-boy. Like you didn’t defy your witch for him, even after he rejected you.” he snapped. 

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

Charles woke up all at once, gasping. He was sopping wet and chained to the ceiling. The metal of the chains was iron, and they were burning every part of his body that touched them. He was still only wearing his trousers, felt his extremities numb with cold and some of his curls had crusted over with ice.

When his eyes got used to the dim room, he could see it was the same basement he had been trapped in since the beginning. The only real difference was that he wasn’t alone this time. There was a woman on the corner, deep in the shadows. For what he could see, she was pretty fit. Charles might have looked twice if he had seen her on the street.  But with her wild blonde hair, tight red dress and tall boots; she looked like she was wearing a halloween costume that couldn’t decide if it was vampire or witch. A large white spider, with its eyes closed, peacefully placed inside her hair didn’t help matters. He had almost missed it.

“You’re finally awake!” she cheered, getting closer. “Now we can finally get started .” her grin was dangerous and the boy felt a shiver go down his spine.

Taking advantage of the fact that his feet barely touch the ground, she spun him around, making him lose balance. His knee buckled under him and his whole weight was left suspended from his shoulders until he managed to find his footing again. He was trembling even worse  after that, and tears of frustration began leaking from his eyes.

“Are you crying? How cute .” she cooed, grabbing his face and licking the trail the drop had left on his cheek. ”I’d give you a comfort kiss, but I don’t snog anyone that’s not my man.”

“You. Are. Crazy.” Charles said, leaning away from her. The spider opened its eyes and winked with half of them, waving two of its legs. The shivers got worse.

“Don’t be like that, poppet. Everything I’m doing is for love.”

“ Love ?” he repeated, sceptical. 

“Yes! I’m gonna get the love of my life back, and you’re gonna help me.”

“I don’t know anything about love potions or spells; we don’t mess with that shite.” Charles explained, weary. The witch snorted, the spider wiggled, like it was laughing too. (Was this her familiar? Did it share the same amount of sentience as Monty? Somehow, that thought was terrifying).

“Pffff, I don’t mean like that . My boo and I were tragically separated when he was killed by the police and then he got dragged to Hell! ” she huffed. “Like, what even? I just want him back .” 

Usually, Charles was willing to give everyone a chance to explain themselves. It’s not like the system was flawless. Good souls could be sent to Hell, like it had happened with Edwin. 

However, since he was still shivering from the literal torture this woman had put him through (torture she implied her ‘boo’ would enjoy); he would go out on a limb an bet the bloke completely deserved his tenure in Hell.

“And why was he killed by the police?” he asked anyway, already tired of dealing with this. The chat was a step up from the freezing water, but the talk itself so far was three steps down from the earlier solitude.

“Because his stupid best friend and he decided to rob a bank!” she exclaimed, clearly miffed. This time, when she grabbed him to spin him around, her nails left deep scratches, burning and bleeding. This bitch had iron in her nail polish, apparently. “They were caught doing that. I mean, you have to give it to the pigs. They really messed up on that one.”she laughed. “They were caught and got done in as fucking robbers. They didn't even search their flat! They just killed them and left them at the morgue.  They never found out that we were the ones dropping the mangled bodies everywhere.”

“You're sick.” Charles said, swallowing, as he found his rooting again. 

“Oh, baby, of course I am. Didn't I tell you already? I love making people break, playing with them.” She licked her lips, seductive. The ghost boy just felt nauseous. “What I love even more is watching my man do it for me. And that's why you're going to help me bring him back.”

“From Hell ?” He asked, incredulous. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't help you. Edwin is the one with the knowledge of Hell and its paths, not me. You chose the wrong one of us to kidnap.”

“I don’t think I did. Word is, you are the one that I saved him from hell this time.” she smiled.  She put her extended arm on his shoulder and placed her weight on the claw-like nails sinking in the muscle there. He felt blood dripping down his back. The spider began walking down her shoulder and onto her arm. Leaning in until their faces almost touched, she looked him dead in the eyes, despite his efforts to keep the blasted thing in his line of sight. 

“I did, yeah.” He admitted. “But I had help. I had someone else, much more powerful than I or you ever could be. They opened a portal down to Hell and they kept it open until we got back. You can't do that.” He swallowed. “Can you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, now looking at the spider.

Cursing, she pushed him back and started roaming the room, hands wildly gesturing. The spider had quickly climbed up to her head again. Charles had lost his balance and was spinning again, but at least that beast was not near him. He took her cursing as a negative to his question. Charles wanted to believe this was good news (he dreaded the thought of that man anywhere but Hell), but you never knew how others were going to react when you didn’t give them the information they wanted. This woman? Completely bonkers. Hopefully she would just let him in here, until Edwin rescued him. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the basement.

“Hmm, maybe I can't open up a portal. But I can make a deal with a demon so that I can get into hell.” She was smiling again. “And you will help me find my way out.”

“A deal with a demon is a terrible idea. Besides, lady, even if I tell you all I know about hell, which I won’t do. The level Edwin was at? It was terrible, but it wasn't that deep. The level your boo must be in… it has to be one of the deepest and darkest ones, just based on what you describe me you two did, to people.”

“I can think of a few things I can offer the demon so that he helps me.” she countered, now pensive instead of agitated.

“Like what?”

“Like you, your soul. Essence, whatever. Or one of the others’.” Charles was almost afraid to ask.

“Others?”

“Oh, yeah. I've been collecting little souls as gifts for my boyfriend when he comes back. Since, you know, he won't be able to interact with the living now he is dead and will become a ghost.”

“... Little souls?” he asked again, disgusted. He tried leaning away, but she plunged her nails into his face to keep his eyes on her. 

“Yeah, the souls of little ones!” she smiled, and it was a terrible smile. A wild hunger seemed to seep from her feverish eyes. “He's not that much into kids. He prefers young people, teenagers, you know.” she winked at him, suggestive.

“So he's a paedophile, but not that much of a paedophile?” Charles mocked, deciding to ignore the implications. 

She let go of his face only to slap him hard, hard enough to leave deep gouges from the iron on the nails she wore.

“He hates that word!” she screamed, offended. “He just… really loves young people.” The sheer incredulity must have shown on his face, because she just continued. “Anyways, I was collecting these souls so he could play with them when he comes back, you know? I bet he will be in a foul mood, and I just thought 'well what better way to cheer him up than letting him blow off some steam on a couple souls he will find pleasing?’ ' I took great care in ensuring they were innocent, as well. The responses to all the pain and the bit of little pleasure here and there that we can teach them are always the best .” she sighed, dreamy. “And ghosts are so much more resilient! We can play with you and play with you and play with you until you break.” She said, eyes evaluating him up and down. “And then we can start all over again!” she laughed.

Charles puked all over the floor.

"You truly are," he said in disgusted awe " the most despicable person I've ever met. And a few months ago I was at the mercy of a witch that cannibalised little girls. "

“Oh, cannibalism.” she hummed. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it, Ari?” she cooed at her familiar, reaching for the thing. “You have to get me her number.” she said to him.

Charles spat at her. It barely touched her face before she shrieked and sent him crashing to the back of the room. The chains had fallen from the ceiling and onto his torso, burning him terribly.  

“And you need to learn some manners." She said as he screamed from the sudden agony. Then she turned her back on him and walked towards the door. "I guess I will just leave you to repeat the cycle until you have had enough."

Charles’ last coherent thought before he was dropped under the thick frozen layer of water of the lake instead of through the ice as always, was that Edwin and he would absolutely need to save those poor spirits.

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

“That took longer than you said it would.” Crystal said as soon as he stepped through the mirror into the office. “Did the house not let you in?” she asked, remembering how they had just phased through the walls last time.

“The house gave me no problem at all.” Edwin answered, placing the knife on the desk. “It was Monty, actually.” he explained, with a grimace. “I had an encounter with the Cat king,” Crystal’s eyebrow went up “but not much came out of it. He was very insistent about not letting any kind of knowledge leave that witch's house.” He took off his coat and his gloves and, uncharacteristically, threw them onto the couch. It was the only free surface, she supposed. “Which would normally be a good thing, but in these circumstances, I could not abide by it.”

“And did he give you any trouble?” she questioned, sceptical. 

“He tried to threaten me, so I just…threatened him back.” Edwin said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, trying to play it off as unimpressive. Yeah, Crystal was not gonna let that one slide.

“ You threatened the Cat King?” she said, incredulous. “He left you trapped in Port Townsend for weeks!”

“Ah, but I didn't know anything about him back then.” He countered. “And I wasn't dabbling in anything more dangerous than usual. And perhaps the most important thing of all…” Edwin started, leafing through his notes.

“...It was you in danger, not Charles.” Crystal interrupted, finishing the idea.

“Exactly.” He said, pleased that she understood this about him by now.

As they began prepping the materials for this massive ritual, she managed to corroborate that it was far beyond anything they had shown her so far. The ritual seemed so complicated. Beyond the dagger that he had to pick up from the other side of the world, it required them to move every single piece of furniture against the walls, then grabbing the bathroom mirror for a later use. 

After that, they placed a bedsheet on the floor, drawing a big circle on it with black chalk, and drew a set of runes inside it, near the centre. Then Edwin grabbed Charles' backpack, and took out a bottle full of a viscous dark liquid. He then lit a dozen candles inside the marked circle, each one in its specific place. A wave of different smells assaulted Crystal’s nose. She supposed that ghosts weren’t bothered by it since they couldn't smell much. She tried very hard not to sneeze.

Edwin retrieved two different cups from a cupboard, one made from silver and one from crystal, and poured the liquid from the bottle inside the silver one. For the other, he took out Esther’s knife from his pocket and sliced his forearm with it. Blood tinted with ectoplasm began to pour inside the empty cup, and once it was three quarters full he removed the wound from it to avoid overspilling. He slid two fingers over the wound and the black smoke that was becoming familiar to Crystal ate up the blood and sealed the wound. Then, he reached for Charles' chain around his neck and took it off. Gently, he let it fall inside the cup that had his blood. He took a big piece of parchment paper, those old ones that you see only in movies, yellowed with age, thick, and coarse to the touch. 

With a grimace, he sank his fingers into the first cup. A low hum came from his throat, sounding almost like words but not really. He began writing symbols with the blood onto the parchment. With the other hand, he began tracing the same symbols again, on another blank sheet of parchment, on top of the first one. These symbols were mirrored, and written with his own blood from the second cup. Once he was done, a string of Latin came out of his lips, and the second set of symbols lifted up in the air, glowing golden light, and fused into the first set, on the first sheet of parchment. The other parchment disintegrated as soon as the last trace of blood left the paper. 

Edwin let out a breath Crystal hadn't noticed he was holding. Done, he took the parchment, and began ripping it in pieces, keeping each symbol inside its own square of paper, and placed the symbols inside the circle according to the instructions written down by his own hand. The bloody symbols then sank through the paper and sealed themselves to the linen fabric. Edwin waved his hand and all the blank pieces of paper flew from the array. Then he took the necklace from inside the second cup and put it into the first cup. 

He took the bathroom mirror, and placed it in the middle of the circle array spell, then took the necklace out of the cup and flicked it in the air where it remained still, frozen in place at about two metres high. The symbols on the bedsheet and the blood on the necklace pulsed with golden energy every couple of heartbeats.

“I need you,” he started to say, very clearly, “to not, for any reason, enter the circle.”

“All right” she said, heart beating like crazy. 

“Whatever I ask you to bring me, you will put it inside the circle without touching inside it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Edwin repeated, breathing deep. He knelt beside the foggy mirror on the floor and began writing on it with his finger. At the same time, he spoke up, to keep her in the loop. “Charles? Are you there?”

Charles

are you there?

[codebrewlabs07]

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Sonic to get "several new mobile titles" in the future, according to SEGA management meeting document

The Sonic the Hedgehog series is expected to receive "several new titles" for mobile platforms, SEGA's parent company confirmed in a management meeting early Wednesday.

Apple and Google were both named as "key players" in the mobile sector for SEGA, as the publisher detailed an encompassing transmedia scheme for the blue blur, which will include licencing and collaborations with other third-party properties.

"Several new" mobile games under development

With an established presence thanks to the likes of free apps like Sonic Dash and Sonic Forces Speed Battle, the franchise looks set to dive in the world of mobile gaming, as part of SEGA's future plans.

The publisher did not rule out exclusivity clauses with subscription-based mobile gaming services. In recent days, the publisher signed a contract with Apple to produce Sonic Dream Team, and Netflix announced a mobile port of Sonic Mania Plus for their game subscription service.

No word of a specific timeframe for the aforementioned mobile games, currently in development.

Future Sonic mobile games to adopt Rovio's Beacon toolkit

As part of the mobile expansion, the upcoming slate is expected to adopt "Beacon", an internal development and marketing toolkit powered by machine learning, frequently utilized by Rovio, the Finnish studio behind Angry Birds that SEGA acquired over the summer.

The studio described Beacon as a platform to "build games and get games to market, models to profitably grow and monetize the game and live operations tools to maximize our players’ fun."

The toolkit has been criticized in a number of fan-run Angry Birds forums for incentivizing revenue at the expense of gameplay quality.

SEGA did not disclose if the Beacon platform will extend beyond the present suite of HARDlight mobile games.

More details on SEGA's resurrection of classic hits

SEGA also unveiled these new images and descriptions for the five new games announced at The Game Awards, described as a "power surge" to re-electrify their classic hits, like Crazy Taxi and Jet Set Radio.

Crazy Taxi: Innovative & Fresh Style Driving Action! Cheerful feeling of freedom and fusion of nature and city. Peel out the new stage of Crazy City!

Jet Set Radio: "Counter-Culture" - Tokyo Street Open World! Experience the "rebellion" movement that feels free in a suffocating society. Make friends, increase your fans, and create a movement!

Shinobi: Slay the enemies in the silence of the moment. Run through the world of Shinobi, full of monsters and ninja actions. Grab Oberozuki, the legendary sword and slay evil once more. Your clan and the world are counting on you.

Golden Axe: Warriors arise to subdue the demons! Defeat your enemies with a variety of attacks with swords and magic! The legendary story about the battle axe, Golden Axe is about to begin!

Streets of Rage Revolution: Beloved side-scrolling beat 'em up action series! Take control of one of the ex-officers and make the city a place where people no longer have to walk the "Streets of Rage."

The announcement coincided with SEGA's plans to strengthen their flagship video game brands like Persona and Like a Dragon, and to expand with legacy properties.

(Edit 2:00 pm ET - post updated with new details)

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

How Amazon transformed the EU into a planned economy

Amazon is a perfect parable of enshittification, the process by which platforms first offer subsidies to end users until they’re locked in, then make life good for business customers at users’ expense, until they’re locked in, then claw back all the value they can for themselves, leaving just enough behind to keep the lock-in going.

In a new report for SOMO, Margarida Silva describes how the end-stage enshittification of Amazon is playing out in the EU, with Amazon repeating its US playbook of gouging the small businesses who have no choice but to use the platform in order to reach its locked-in customers, making European customers and European sellers poorer:

https://www.somo.nl/amazons-european-chokehold/

The mechanism for this isn’t a mystery. Amazon boasts about it! They call it their flywheel: first, customers are lured into the platform with low prices, especially through Prime, which requires pre-payment for a year’s shipping, which virtually guarantees that customers will start their shopping on Amazon. Because customers now start their buying on Amazon, sellers have to be there. The increased range of goods for sale on Amazon lures in more buyers, who lure in more sellers, with both sides holding each other hostage:

https://vimeo.com/739486256/00a0a7379a

This flywheel creates a vicious cycle, starving local retail so that customers can’t get what they need from brick-and-mortar shops, which funnels sellers into offering their goods for sale on Amazon. The less choice customers and sellers have about where they shop, the more Amazon can abuse both to pad its own bottom line.

There are 800,000 EU-based sellers on Amazon, and they have seen the junk-fees that Amazon charges them skyrocket, to the point where they have to raise prices or lose money on each sale. Amazon uses both tacit and explicit “Most Favored Nation” deals to hide these price-hikes. Under an MFN deal, sellers must not allow their goods to be sold at a lower price than Amazon’s — so when they raise prices to cover Amazon’s increasing fees, they raise them everywhere:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/

It’s not hard to understand why Amazon would raise its fees: the company has an effective e-commerce monopoly. Like Ozymandias, they have run out of worlds to conquer, and so their growth has to come from squeezing suppliers and/or raising prices, not from bringing in new customers. This is likewise true of mobile companies like Apple and Google, who have run out of people who are so excited about incremental mobile hardware gains that they’ll buy a new phone every year, which means that growth has to come from squeezing app vendors:

https://www.tbray.org/ongoing/When/202x/2023/06/09/Pixel-4-to-7

This is likewise true of the streaming companies, which is why Netflix is cracking down on “password sharing”:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

It’s true of the movie studios, which is why they want to zero out their wage bills by replacing writers with automatic plausible sentence generators that will write stupid movies that they think we’ll still pay to see because there won’t be anything else:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#union-strong

It’s certainly true of Uber, which is why they’ve double the cost of a taxi ride and halved the wages they pay drivers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Monopolies “grow” by making their customers and suppliers worse off. But they have to be careful about this: if it’s obvious that you’re using your market power to screw buyers, you can get in trouble with competition regulators. That’s because the only part of antitrust law that the neoliberal project left intact is “consumer welfare” — the idea that monopolies should only face enforcement when they raise prices and/or lower quality:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/10/play-fair/#bedoya

This focus on price-hikes has given monopolists a free hand to squeeze suppliers and workers, because a monopolist — from Walmart to Amazon — can claim that squeezing your workers and suppliers is necessary to enhancing consumer welfare. The less you pay to produce a product, the cheaper you can price it.

When a company has a lot of seller power, we call it a monopolist. When it has a lot of buying power, we call it a monopsonist. No one ever made a bestselling, family-destroying board game called “Monopsony” so most people haven’t heard of the concept. But monopsony is every bit as dangerous as monopoly, and monopsonists find it far easier to acquire market power than monopolists. Few suppliers can afford to have even 10% of their sales disappear overnight, so a buyer who accounts for 10% of your sales can demand deep discounts and other favorable terms.

Amazon is a monopolist, but it’s also a very powerful and ruthless monopsonist. For example, its audiobook division, Audible, has a 90+% market-share, and it used that market-power to steal at least $100m from audiobook creators, in a scandal dubbed Audiblegate:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/07/audible-exclusive/#audiblegate

For Europe’s 800k sellers who rely on Amazon to reach their customers, the monoposony conditions are blatant and shameless. Take listing fees: Amazon’s “flywheel” pitch claims that as the company grows, it achieves “economies of scale” that can lower its cost basis. But Amazon’s listing fees haven’t changed, even as the company experienced explosive growth in the EU (remember, sellers whose Amazon fees exceed their margins have to pass those fees onto buyers, and also raise their prices everywhere else to satisfy the Most Favored Nation requirement).

Amazon books the revenues from these fees — and other junk-fees it extracts from sellers — in Luxembourg, an EU member nation that provides a tax haven to multinational businesses that want to maintain the fiction that they operate their businesses out of the tiny kingdom. There is sharp competition in the EU to offer the most servile, corrupt environment for multinationals, and Luxembourg is a leader, along with Cyprus, Malta and, of course, Ireland:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

But at least listing fees haven’t gone up, unlike other fees, which have climbed sharply. Amazon falsely claimed that its additional revenues from fees were the result of growth by independent sellers, which Amazon pegged at 65%. Later, the company admitted that the true growth figure was 22%. Meanwhile, fees are up 85%.

The true growth figure might be lower still. Amazon refuses to show the math behind its growth figures, or even say which sellers and sales are included in the figure.

The SOMO report cites research by Juozas Kaziukėnas of the e-commerce research firm Marketplace Pulse, who finds that sellers are now giving 50% of their gross revenues to Amazon, an increase of 10% over the past five years across the whole EU. However, different EU (and ex-EU) countries have experienced much steeper increases in fees — in the UK, fees have nearly doubled (up 98%), and in France, fees more than doubled (up 115%).

Many of these increases come from the Fulfilment By Amazon (FBA) program, which is promoted as an optional service, but which is really obligatory — careful research shows that sellers who warehouse, pack and ship their own goods get banished to the depths of search results, even if they have ratings, costs and times that are competitive with FBA. This is especially true of the “buy box” that lands at the top of most searches. The company refuses to disclose how buy box positioning is determined, but 90% of products in the buy box pay for FBA.

Amazon has used excuseflation to hike its FBA prices, blaming higher energy prices for price hikes that predated the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and blaming covid for price hikes that predated the pandemic.

Italy’s competition authority did yeoman service in uncovering the sleaze of FBA, publishing an investigation that showed that Prime and buy box made the notionally “optional” FBA into a must-have for merchants, meaning that Amazon could jack up FBA prices without losing business.

Another notable source of gouging came in response to the UK and France adopting digital services taxes, which were meant to make up for the tax-base erosion enabled by Luxembourg’s flouting of EU tax law. Amazon passed these taxes straight through to its merchants, without seeing a comparable decrease in the number of sellers using its platforms — an unmistakable sign of market power. If you can raise prices without losing customers, then, by definition, your customers have nowhere else to go.

I’ve previously written about how Amazon’s $31b/year “advertising” market isn’t really advertising — rather, it’s a payola scheme that auctions off the top of a search-listing to the merchant with the most to spend:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is how you get a simple search like “cat beds” returning results whose first screen is 100% ads, and whose next five screens are 50% ads, many of them for dog products:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/interactive/2022/amazon-shopping-ads/

Auctioning off search results means that every time you search for something you want, you have to wade through screen after screen of listings for products whose vendors spent more on advertising, leaving less to spend on making quality goods.

This is as true in the EU as it is in the USA. The SOMO report shows that European merchants are required to spend ever-larger sums to show up in results for the exact products they sell, leaving them with a choice between making less money, raising prices, or skimping on quality.

But even the “winners” of Amazon’s gladiatorial combat among vendors can still lose. Amazon uses an automated product removal process that can delete some or all of a merchant’s products, without warning or explanation, and no one at Amazon will explain what a merchant did wrong. That remains true even if a vendor pays for Amazon’s “marketplace consultant” service — ask these paid Virgils why you’ve been cast into Amazon’s pit, and they’ll shrug their shoulders (and bill you for it).

And even if you can navigate the junk fees, the Kafka-as-a-service removals, the war of all sellers against all sellers for search primacy…you still lose. Merchants told SOMO that a product that survives Amazon’s gauntlet is likely to be cloned by Amazon and sold as an Amazon Basic or other house-brand product. Amazon doesn’t charge itself 50% junk fees, so it can always underprice the vendors it knocks off, and give its own products permanent top-of-search placement.

Amazon founder Jeff Bezos once testified under oath before Congress that this doesn’t happen — and then refused to return to Congress when multiple vendors showed evidence that he’d lied:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2021/10/18/amazon-congress-letter-third-party-data/

He definitely lied:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/amazon-india-rigging/

Amazon has faced investigations and enforcement in the EU over this, and settled a claim with a promise to “not use non-public seller data to compete with sellers,” but given the company’s record of broken promises on this score and the difficulty of catching them cheating, it’s pretty naive to think they’ll stick to this.

The report quotes Thomas Höppner, a lawyer who has represented small businesses that Amazon screwed over. Höppner says the problem is that the EU evaluates Amazon’s bad deeds on a “case-by-case” basis, missing the big picture: “By the time one identified problem was seemingly solved, Amazon had long made amendments elsewhere with the same effect. We require a more holistic approach that considers the entire Amazon ecosystem and the various interdependencies within.”

But the EU’s enforcement approach is about to change significantly. The EU just passed the Digital Markets Act (DMA), which imposes a bunch of obligations on Amazon:

allowing sellers to offer their products on other marketplaces at different prices (Article 5.3),

not obliging business users to pay for one of its services in order to use its platform (Article 5.8),

limiting the way Amazon uses non-public seller data to compete with them (Article 6.2)

preventing Amazon from giving top billing in search results to its own products or sellers that have acquired extra Amazon services (Article 6.5)

The report concludes with a suite of recommendations for improving EU enforcement. First, they argue for a return to traditional competition law, abandoning the “consumer welfare standard” that is so friendly to monopsonies and their abuses of suppliers and workers.

They call for a probe into Amazon’s Most Favored Nation deals (“fair pricing policy”), the practice of sponsoring search results, and spiraling fees. They want the EU to adequately fund DMA enforcement, with “measures to prevent regulatory capture.” And they want Amazon to publish clear explanations for how search results, buy box placement, and other practices hidden behind a veil of secrecy.

Amazon will doubtless claim that disclosing how those systems work will make it easier for spammers and scammers to game their way to the top of search results. We should be skeptical of this claim — content moderation is the last domain where anyone takes the bankrupt idea of security through obscurity seriously:

https://doctorow.medium.com/como-is-infosec-307f87004563

Finally, the report calls for breaking up Amazon, forcing it to choose between being a platform seller or a platform user, calling this the only way to “prevent the conflicts of interest between its role as a platform intermediary, seller, and service provider.”

The technical term for this measure is “structural separation” — a rule that bans platform companies from competing with their business customers. This is the principle at work in the US bipartisan AMERICA Act, which would force Google and Meta to spin off the parts of their ad-tech business that put them in a conflict of interest. Right now, Googbook represents both publishers and advertisers, while operating the marketplace where ad sales take place, and they take 51% out of every ad dollar:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Structural separation hasn’t really been applied in the US for a generation, but it’s gained currency in recent years, for the obvious reason that the referee can’t also own one of the teams. I was in Germany last week speaking to regulators and politicians, and they espoused skepticism that the EU would embrace structural separation anytime soon.

But they were wrong! Today, the European Commission announced plans to force Google and Meta to sell off their conflict-of-interest ad-tech lines of business, mirroring the provisions of the US AMERICA Act:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2023/06/google-may-soon-be-ordered-to-break-up-its-lucrative-ad-business-eu-warns/

Structural separation really is the policy we should be demanding. It’s amazing that lawyers who would never argue a case in front of a judge who was married to the plaintiff will turn around and defend the idea that Amazon can fairly operate a marketplace where they compete with other sellers.

With Amazon dominating online sales, and with in-person retail cratering, Amazon’s decisions have the power to determine the outcome of whole swathes of Europe’s economy. This is the “planned economy��� that the EU claims it detests and seeks to prevent — but it’s an economy planned by distant autocrats in a Seattle boardroom, for the purpose of extracting the surpluses needed to launch an endless procession of penis-rockets.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

[Image ID: A desert ruin. In the foreground is a huge Amazon box, with an EU flag in place of its shipping label. Atop the box are the feet and partial legs of an Oxymandias figure.]

Image: Rama (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gladiator_with_sword-Louis_Ernest_Meissonnier-MG_1216-IMG_1223-white.jpg

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