#dandelions data logs

[deaddovedandelion]

Uncrossable Bridge

authors note: hiiii im insane about starling and z from @rotting-ink s game so bad, i did a small sorta vent but also deeply in love piece 4 them and im scraping together more writing 2 put on here because i have decided i am writing all my insane thoughts down now word count: 444 words (shes short but i like her)

How do you love someone that's across a bridge that's been destroyed? 

How do you tell them that the mere thought of them makes you want to throw yourself into the rapids below and risk death just for a chance to see them?

How do I tell Starling that the invisible wall between us makes me want to throw myself at it until it's red with my blood and my nails are gone from how I've clawed at it?

How do I tell my beloved reaper that the lack of life between us makes me want to claw myself from the inside out just to be with them? 

How do I love someone when I feel a wall? See an uncross-able obstacle? How do I love them? How do I finally cross the gap and sink into them? How do I make them a bridge to come and consume me whole? 

When Starling works and I watch from my seat near their desk, the look in their eyes as they tend to a body makes them seem like wisps of smoke. Like they'll drift away into the night sky never to be seen again if I dare to look away. When they watch me with a glint in their eyes as they study me, I see a pane of glass between us that makes me want to love them more. 

When Z is with me out in a crowd, I can't take my eyes away because I'm the only one that can see them. I fear what will happen if I look away, and somehow that makes me heart beat faster in hopes of finally giving out so I can be with them forever. 

When I sit with them in Starling's home, in front of the fireplace, watching them hold one another while I tuck myself into a corner of the couch with a drink in hand, I imagine the fire consuming all three of us so we can become smoke that drifts away together. When we speak about our days, our weeks, our months, our pasts, our futures, I imagine carving everything they say onto my skin so that when the gap grows too wide, I will be a memoir to them. 

I see Z stand in the graveyard, watching a recently placed headstone and I want that headstone to have my name on it. I see Starling tend to a body in the morgue with so much love and care, I wish that corpse was me so that I may know that sweet love reserved for the dead. 

How do I love them when they have crossed a line I can't cross?

[pierswife]

I miss my wife, Tails

I miss her a lot

[headspace-hotel]

further ideas for mechanics

i feel like i'd want there to be real plant genera but the species would be fictional, so it's not like hyper-specialized to a certain IRL region.

squares would have a certain amount of "slots" for the amount of plants they can contain, slots can also be taken up by things like rocks or logs. let's say 9 slots. A fully grown "old growth" tree would take up 8 slots (the max a single plant could take up) which leaves 1 slot for another plant (so there's always some smaller plants) Most plants take up 1-2 slots. HOWEVER large trees and rocks and logs have their own "slots" that are open to epiphytes and mosses and other small plants that are exclusive to that microhabitat

theres a number reflecting how many animal species are present in your habitat, representing everything from mammals to insects. they probably wouldn't be specifically named because there would be so many but they would have data in the game reflecting that they are associated with certain habitats, rely on certain plants, etc.

there would be a book with info about discovered plants, but you would have to devote a certain amount of exp/gold/whatever to "research" plants.

So if you found a plant you could spend 10 gold or whatever to "Research" and unlock the plant's name and stats (it's random which ones). So it could be like "You found: LEMON SAGE! Lifecycle: Short-Lived Perennial. Compete 3, Reseed 7, Resist ???, .... and so on

certain plants would automatically be "known" to the player from the outset, for example Dandelion and its stats could appear in the book from the very beginning. Some of these plants are randomly chosen, and there's a little blurb for them explaining how your player character "knows" them. E.g. "You remember this plant from your grandma's garden." "You recognize this tree from your childhood backyard." "You read about this plant in a gardening book one time."

10% of plant species would be procedurally generated along with the world, with names generated from a source pool of syllables and words and stats and traits that vary randomly.

there is no way to win, because each world would have a different theoretical "max" biodiversity (because of differing world seeds)

Things you can do: release goats onto a patch, release cattle onto a patch, mow a patch, spray herbicide/pesticide (but watch out!), test the soil seed bank in your greenhouse, "field survey" a patch (reveals what plants are present in the patch, with a prompt to "Research?")

if discovered through "field survey," certain stats are known upon discovery, for example if you find a plant in a very wet square, it might be automatically revealed to you that it's a wetland tolerant plant

not sure how to deal with this, but stats of plants and stats of squares both are a thing and both affect each other. like plants' stats could be buffed or debuffed depending on whether they're in an ideal environment or not, but squares' stats are also affected by what plants are on them. the progression of this is basically what drives succession

Not me spending my whole shower imagining a rewilding sim with a procedurally generated world like dwarf fortress where you plant various plants and try to shape the ecosystem throughout the process of ecological succession

The plants would all have different stats based on their spreading and competitive capabilities and each little square of land would have stats based on the plants that are there and other conditions

Every time you advanced the clock forward by another year your plants would grow and potentially spread to new squares, and there would be a chance for new plants to "volunteer"

Each square would have a "Disturbance" stat that lowers every time you advance the clock and rises according to major removals of plants or cultivation activities, and modifies other stats including how competitive certain species are and which species could volunteer

For example, Dandelion would have a high chance of volunteering on squares with high disturbance stats, but not on squares with low disturbance stats

It would be partly a strategy game to see how you can fight and outcompete invasive species and raise biodiversity, like for example you might want to combine plants with high resistance to being outcompeted with plants that have an allelopathic effect to debuff an invasive plant enough that the volunteer chances of a square go up and you can have natural regeneration of trees

The reason I think this is so cool is that if stats were intentionally made as accurate as possible, you could legitimately use this to model rewilding strategies in the real world

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to be safe(r) online

I flatter myself that I am pretty secure online. I’ve written a series of global bestsellers about information security, I’ve worked for EFF for nearly 20 years, I’ve given keynotes at some of the world’s largest infosec conferences. And yet, I have been hacked. It wasn’t even very sophisticated!

It was in 2010. My kid had made a fuss about going to day-care so my wife and I were late walking to work. The cafe we always stopped at for a coffee had longer lines at that hour, so I stood in line while she sat down and read a paper.

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

I had reinstalled my phone’s OS the day before — the same day I’d had three different articles come out. I was hearing from a lot of people about those articles, and I was having to re-key my password in a lot of websites because I’d blown out my browser preferences with the reinstall.

Standing in line, I got a DM from an old friend: “Is this you?” followed by a URL. I clicked it, and my browser opened, then redirected to Twitter. I sighed, thinking that I needed to find the system setting to tell my phone to open tweets in the Twitter app. I typed my Twitter password into my browser, and ordered coffees.

As I was handing my wife her coffee, my phone buzzed three more times. It was three more DMs, from three more old friends: “Is this you?” and the same URL.

My guts twisted. I’d just been phished.

The Twitter worm that got me was simple: they took your Twitter password, logged in as you, and DMed all your friends with “Is this you?” and a phishing URL that looked like Twitter’s login screen. The URL started with https://twitter.com, but continued with .scammysite.com (my mobile browser only showed me the first part).

I got fooled because of a perfect alignment of vulnerabilities — late, long line, new OS, new publications, bad browser design, inattentiveness. If the first phishing DM had come in 5 minutes later, in the flurry with the three others, I’d never have been caught. If we’d been on time and I’d received the DM while at my desk on my laptop, I wouldn’t have been caught.

It’s easy to sneer at people who get fooled by phishers, but imagine this: you are buying a house. You’ve just gone into escrow. You get an email or a phone call or a text from your bank about your mortgage, telling you that you have to complete another form. It’s probably not even the first time that’s happened — buying a house often requires going back several times to complete new forms! It’s high-stakes, high-tension, and the market is so hot that if you miss a form, the house might go to someone else. Maybe you’ve already given your landlord notice or sold your own house.

Do you triple-check the URL your bank gives you? Does it even matter? Your bank is probably using half a dozen fintech services to close your mortgage and escrow. You’re already routinely transmitting sensitive data to companies you’ve never heard of.

I get dozens of phishing emails like this every day, but I’m not actually buying a house, so I ignore them. But if I got one of these on the morning that I was closing on the deed? While juggling movers and finance and maybe a new job and a new school for the kid in another city? I’m not so sure. If you’re honest, you won’t be so sure, either.

That’s the thing we miss about scams — they’re scattered like dandelion seeds. The cost of adding another email address to an untargeted scam is close to zero, and the scammer doesn’t care whether that email is deleted unread anymore than a dandelion cares whether one of its seeds falls on concrete.

The dandelion’s reproductive strategy isn’t to ensure that every seed takes root — it’s to ensure that every crack in every sidewalk has a dandelion growing out of it.

http://www.locusmag.com/Features/2008/05/cory-doctorow-think-like-dandelion.html

11 years ago, I got phished. I immediately realized my mistake and changed my Twitter password, but, like many people then (and now!), I’d reused that password elsewhere.

I’d created my Twitter account while standing in line for a Game Developer’s Conference press pass, after Ev Williams sent me an invite to the beta. I didn’t think I needed a good password for it, because it was a toy that sent you updates about other people’s lunches over SMS. Half a decade later, I had tens of thousands of followers and the account was key to my professional life.

The person who phished me hadn’t targeted me. I was fooled by an embarrassingly blunt and transparent ploy. Is there any way I could have avoided this?

Perhaps. But not by maintaining perfect vigilance, or by never being harried or hasty. The blame-the-victim school of unattainable security locates the infosec pandemic’s problem in human frailty, rather than bad systems.

Good security advice transcends this, and Ars Technica has just published an outstanding guide to securing your online life, in two parts, written by Sean Gallagher.

Part One (“The Basics”) lays out both a way of thinking about security (particularly dispelling the notion that criminals won’t target you because you’re no one special), and a set of (mostly) simple steps you can take to defend yourself against opportunistic, untargeted attacks:

https://arstechnica.com/features/2021/10/securing-your-digital-life-part-1/

Part Two (“The Special Circumstances”) offers advice for people who might be specifically targeted by attackers. That’s not just one percenters and politicians — it can include people whose ex-spouses harass them with stalkerware, middle-schoolers targeted by bullies, and more.

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2021/10/securing-your-digital-life-part-2/

I often get asked what people should do to be more secure, and I offer four basic pieces of advice:

Use a strong, unique password for every service. Get any reputable password manager (including the free one that probably came with your OS) and use it to generate all your passwords. Never use a password that you are capable of remembering — if you can remember it, a computer can guess it (the exception being the password that unlocks your password manager!).

Use two-factor authentication, preferably an authenticator app, like the one that comes with your mobile OS, or an indie like Authy. Turn it on for every account you use regularly, and seek it out when you create a new account. Avoid SMS-based 2FA.

Keep your OS and software up to date. When your OS or app asks you whether you want to update, do it.

Turn on full-disk encryption. It’s free, it came with your device, and it protects your data.

All of this is in Gallagher’s advice, along with something I don’t recommend enough, though I’m obsessive about it myself:

5. Back up your data, offsite, and keep multiple backups.

The easiest way to do this is with an encrypted cloud service. I do some of that, but my first line of defense are cheap, encrypted 1TB thumb drives that I back up to every day. Once a week, I take a disk to an offsite location and swap it with one that’s already there.

Gallagher also offers solid privacy advice:

get a tracker-blocker (like Privacy Badger) and an ad-blocker

change the permission on all of your apps so they can only get your location while you’re using them

change your mobile device’s Bluetooth name to something other than your own (e.g., not “Fred’s phone”)

He’s also got some specific advice I hadn’t really thought about:

beware of a stranger who wants to move a conversation from one app to another (say, from Tinder to Whatsapp), as this is a “signature move” of fraudsters

claim an IRS account for your Social Security Number (warning: this is complicated and I failed in my attempt because my information wasn’t recognized)

https://www.irs.gov/payments/view-your-tax-account

One of the most common questions I get is “Which VPN should I use.” Gallagher’s answer? None of them: “for everyday Internetting, you just don’t need VPNs that much anymore. Transport Layer Security now encrypts a vast majority of Internet traffic, and it’s unlikely that someone is going to grab your credit card data or other personal information off a public Wi-Fi network.”

But that’s for “everyday internetting.” If you’re a whistleblower or someone else likely to be targeted, “use Tor.” He also advises using Signal for encrypted chat, which is good advice for everyone, not just people in high-risk situations.

Another piece of advice offered in Part Two that everyone should follow is locking your credit report.

For people at risk of domestic violence and stalkerware (the two are highly correlated), he suggests Operation Safe Escape:

https://safeescape.org/

All in all, this is excellent advice. If I’d followed it when I was phished, my recovery would have been a lot simpler. 2FA would have defended me, and if it hadn’t, I would only have needed to change a single password.

But some of the advice is less realistic, even if it’s sound: telling people not to click on email links, or to turn off wifi and Bluetooth when they’re out of the house (especially in an era in which the headphone jack is nearly extinct) may be good advice, but realistically, no one’s going to follow it.

As with much in information security, a sound defense requires both technology and policy. You shouldn’t have to turn off Bluetooth and wifi, because both the standards that define them and the implementations in your device should defend you from information leakage. Likewise, mobile OSes shouldn’t default to naming your device after you, and app vendors shouldn’t be able to get your location when you’re not using their apps, period.

Of course, most of us aren’t in a position to do anything about policy. We’re not FCC commissioners, we don’t work in an EU Information Commissioner’s Office or for a state Attorney General.

But that doesn’t mean that we should ignore policy, or give tech advice that no one will follow. A good deal of the threat to our privacy and security doesn’t come from criminals, it comes from large corporations adhering with bad, or out of date, laws.

America trails the world in privacy law. It is long overdue for a federal privacy law, with a private right of action — something ferociously resisted by telcos, ad-tech, and Googbook:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

Before the FDA was founded, people were routinely sickened and killed by “medicine” that was literally poisonous. I imagine that people got advice then that sounds a lot like our infosec advice today: “Only take medicine from doctors you trust,” “read the labels carefully,” etc.

Today, we have a better system: we make it a crime to poison people or lie to them about what’s in medicine or what they can expect of it.

The advice in Gallagher’s guide is essential, and much of it would apply even in a world where we had good tech policy. But even if you follow all that advice, it won’t protect you from the choices made by governments and corporations that put their priorities ahead of your welfare.

Today is Aaron Swartz Day. One of Aaron’s most memorable quotes is from the fight over SOPA, an idiotic, internet-destroying legal proposal that Aaron helped kill a decade ago: “This is the 21st century. It’s not OK for politicians not to understand the internet anymore.”

https://www.aaronswartzday.org/

The awful state of tech policy is a scandal that puts us all at risk. Security is a team sport, after all. No matter how careful you are, you can still be compromised by someone else’s badly configured technology — the emails you send to someone else may leak, a company may suffer a breach and put your home address on the internet forever, etc.

Aaron fought for better tech policy. A lot of orgs do that today: EFF, of course, but also Public Knowledge, Software Freedom Conservancy, FSF, Creative Commons, Internet Archive, Fight for the Future, SFLC, EDRI, Open Rights Group, and many, many others.

We should all take some measure of responsibility for our technological safety and security, sure — but until we get better tech policy, we’ll just be sticking bandaids on tech’s gaping wounds.

[f2pain]

Ok so my team is diluc, kaeya, razor, and sucrose. I just want diluc and kaeya to get along :(

albedo reeeeally wanted the lab to himself one day so he sent sucrose out on a mission to go and gather some field data

but he doesnt want her to get hurt of anything so he makes kaeya go along with her and then he locks himself in his lab for like the next three days

she wanted to learn more about wolfhooks so she heads to wolvendom

shes rummaging around in the bushes looking for some, kaeyas napping on some random log nearby, and all of a sudden razor pops out from behind a tree

girl SCREAMS

once she calms down though razor shows her where all the berries can be found

they wake up kaeya and head back to the lab but once sucrose finds out that albedo locked her out sucrose is all :( but kaeyas like 'ive got this' and takes them to the winery

diluc finds them and is not happy but whenever sucrose apologizes like a billion times hes like. 'fine you can stay'

after this whenever she needs to get out sucrose heads to the winery and studies the grapes and dandelions and stuff and tries to make them produce faster as a thank you

razor and sucrose get along really well actually!! words are both hard for them so they just sit in silence

diluc thinks sucrose is really charming and will both die and kill to protect her. it is the one thing he and kaeya can agree on

[contemplativepancakes]

@stinastar tagged me to post 20 of my first lines (thank you !! <3)

i feel like i am about to be exposed, let's see:

1. Geralt slams down tankard number three, Lambert sitting across from him while Jaskier looks on in bemusement. (played)

2. Jaskier putters around the room, with one of Geralt’s dozens of tiny bottles in his hand and a rag in the other. (abs of steel)

3. Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. (yarn rants with dandelion)

4. Jaskier strums his lute idly, drumming his fingers on the base. (not if it's you)

5. Geralt glares at Jaskier from across the counter. (may your days be meowy and bright)

6. Jaskier smells anxious; he reeked of apprehension all of yesterday, not to mention the fact that he hasn’t been able to sit still or stop tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards this morning. (enough to drive a man mad)

7. Geralt stirs the smoldering logs, brooding as the poker makes ash and ember drift up. (the thorny heart of a wolf)

8. Dean drives, and drives, and drives. (15x20 coda: somewhere on a beach)

9. “Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room. (five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose)

10. “Hey, kid,” Dean calls, plunking his bottle of whiskey down on the table. (15x19 coda: stripped of everything holy)

11. “The brother thing isn’t really working anymore,” Crowley says, folding his hands on top of the table. [Gonna Take You Downtown (Woah, wait! Why are you hitting me? I'm trying to ask you out, you asshole!)]

12. They find him by a river, with dirt streaked down his face. [it's an inherently romantic gesture (you keep those)]

13. Blood splatters from a severed neck, the body twitching before it collapses to the floor. (15x18 coda: it's in the being)

14. When Geralt starts getting uncomfortable from his position on top of Roach, he assumes it’s the rain. (a rapscallious rash)

15. Geralt’s not quite sure what to do with himself, here. (stay lost in this moment forever)

16. Cas looks down at the worn picture in his hands, smoothing his thumb over it and thinking back to the day it was taken. (15x15 coda: now and then)

17. Jack is finally in his room, after four slices of cake that Dean had watched him devour with increasing pride, when Dean crosses his arms and leans against the wall, turning to Sam. “So… How was your date?” (15x14 coda: it's a date!)

18. Blood bubbles up between Geralt’s splayed fingers. (of stolen shirts and sorrow)

19. Geralt isn’t supposed to feel things. (killing me softly with his song)

20. Castiel hears Dean talking, sees his mouth moving, knows he should reply, but all he can do is stare at Dean blankly. (where to, cas?)

analysis: man, I sure do love names and verbs for the first two words, huh. apparently this is a thing i have just started doing, because the pattern just falls off. I was definitely cracking myself up with the perfect pov splits. there were only two blood mentions in the first sentences, so I'm going to go ahead and call that a win.

favorite: going to have to go with the mangy knob. sorry, jask.

thank you, stina!! my weakness is data so thank you for making me gather some (:

tagging because i know they would just looooooove to be tagged in another writing game: @witcher-and-his-bard @writinglizards @kueble @rebrandedbard @duckyboos-blog @dhwty-writes

[isan0rt]

Actually I know I already reblogged this without commentary but I've been thinking more about this and talking to my friend who's very into the gameplay impacting plot and you know what else really was a big immersion thing?

Was the party system.

Like, the fact that weekly rewards were based not just on union ranking but on how much your total party accomplished that week, or event awards were often distributed to the whole party based on the party's total performance, meant that it was legitimately hard to advance if you didn't have a party, or had a small or inactive one. So when Skuld talks about how hard it was on her own, and how painful it was when her party kind of abandoned her after Ephemer left, you really felt for her for real! All of us understood exactly what that meant, and how much it sucks to not have a party! We could relate to her having a real problem we all dealt with.

And another thing was that like. I started a party with @organizationhimself on day one of the game, and felt a lot of ownership and responsibility about it. Party leaders were the ones who accepted or removed members, who were real people! As a leader you had to decide who you were going to give a chance to, if you were going to let a low level player with starter medals come in and get that boost and prove themselves, or if you were going to reject them to keep the space open and hope someone stronger wanted to join. You had to think about whether you were going to kick out inactive players because they were dragging down the party, or let them stay out of loyalty or the hope they would come back.

And, as party leader, I had to stay active if I wanted to stay in control of the party! The game would consider you as a leader to have abandoned your post if you didn't log in for a long enough period of time, and give other players the opportunity to step into your place and take over leadership. Those people were also real people! It made you really feel like you were in a party for real, even though you didn't know who your members were outside of the game. It made it so you understood Player rejecting the offer to join the Dandelions. Like... If I'd been offered to abandon my party members to be guaranteed advancement....I don't think that I would have been able to agree, either. No matter how much I cared about the person making the offer.

And then.... We knew, going into the ending, that service was also ending with the story. We all knew that we wouldn't see each other again. We knew we were losing our party members. There's no way to convey the feeling of people who had dropped off coming back to say goodbye, of those last days preparing to lose your party members for good. It made the grief of the incoming end of the data world really tangible.

For our party, we were a large party, but only had one person who wasn't an irl friend who joined day one and was still there on the final day. I will never know who that person was irl, and will probably never encounter them again. But I'll still have such strong feelings about that person who was ride or die for the party from start to finish. And that's part of the immersion, too!

Let's talk khux gameplay and plot,

imo I think part of khux's story telling and the impact of the story gets lost now that the game is defunct. I always thought people didn't appreciate how the gameplay and the mechanics actually had an impact on the story and while that impact become virtually nonexistent later on, I always thought it made the story far more engaging when the game was just chi/unchained chi and also the English translation didn't do it too well ngl

Anyway what I'm specifically talking about is the medal system. Also I feel like the whole bangle thing wasn't explained well in game but really it just comes down to leveling up medals specifically. If you never played khux, you equip medals to your keyblades and they doa specific attack and to level them up you combine multiple of the same medal and you could see how leveled up a medal is by the amount of yellow dots next to it and, in JP at least, this was called "guilt" and like wow that name fucking slaps. And when nightmare chirithy reveals the player has been collecting darkness this whole time thru the medal system, you have literal guilt on your conscious. You are guilty of collecting darkness and negative emotions like guilt to use for your own power. And in Back Cover when the foretellers are made aware of this, there's no stopping it and ofc the player can't stop either, they HAVE to get stronger, you literally have to keep playing the game,

Another part of the game that I appreciated is the way the name changes factored into the game; chi was the original "world line" that the dandelions existed in and at first unchained chi had come off as just a remake but really what we're playing is the continuation, where the player and the dandelions are now in this unchained state/new world line and they're reliving their time as wielders but now without the war/"dark" memories and finally when they relive everything and get back to the "present," they continue on after into "union cross" which I feel like. wasn't explained well in game that much tbh but if you didn't understand what that meant in game, it was just to say that unions didn't matter anymore and they were all dandelions so the unions. when the unions are crossed.

and tbh the experience of playing this game in real time also added to the experience a lot and the impact of the story especially with a player insert character. I think the most effective use of this game being played in real time was Strelitzia. Now in the english version, everything with Strelitzia was all one update and the english ver was behind so honestly they had to do catch up they couldn't really afford to lag behind. But in JP, which most khux fans kept up with using fan translations, Strelitzia's introduction and her death happened about a month apart so it gave the players time to actualyl grow attached to her and THEN we get crushed. You can easily pin point the exact time certain khux fan art was drawn bc in a group drawing of the dandelions Strelitzia is there instead of Lauriam since he was only introduced after her death

and another thing! It only became apparent by the end of the game but khux actually takes place over the course of about 4 years. which is fucking insane. because the dandelions were stuck in the data for 4 years and didn't know it until the glitches started. and the game ran for roughly the same amount of time and we weren't even aware of that either until the glitches! ("why 4 years" there are cutscenes that literally say "4 years ago" so yeah girl what the fuck haha)

Anyway yeah this was just me rambling I think about this so much all the time can you tell. I hope missing link does something like this too tbh it makes it more fun and makes it feel that your actions as the player actually have impact on the story

[dandelion-powerraid-blog]

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[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Blood

All it takes is one drop of blood. 

Cari yawned as she perused through her least favorite material, oceanic Selachimorpha. It was easy to roll her eyes as the video notes explained more on the subject. She never quite understood her mother’s fascination with fish-eyed, sharp-toothed predators. Half her notes were on the creatures, despite the fact that all known Earth permutations had died out decades ago. Any large predator had a hard time around aggressive, invasive species with two long legs. 

After that sixth extinction, Earth was no place to be a zoologist. That’s why Dr. Zahn, her mother, took to the stars. Cari had grown up marveling at new species, falling in love with the small avian herbivores that lived in forests, flying gracefully with wide eyes like hers. 

Yet her mother always held some strange reverence of these violent predators. Killers. Monsters. Cari learned the facts, observed and recorded dutifully, but they both knew she’d never feel anything but ambivalence. 

And now, out here on her own, that ambivalence grew even more flippant. 

“Dr. Zahn? We’ve reached Hammerhead.” 

But now was not the time to remember the follies of the first Dr. Zahn. Now was time to get to her job. Since her mother died, Cari was now the leading scientist in xenozoology because of the research she inherited. She was determined to live up to the name, as long as she still had it. 

Shutting down her video logs, Cari shoved a handful of crackers in her mouth and put on her exosuit. The contraption helped filter air from any dangerous particles, but as her mother would say, “did the even more important job of keeping the observer completely unnoticeable.” You’d think Dr. Zahn would develop something more extraordinary from the octopus, but instead only mimicked its camouflage. Cari could remember sulking for a week at 15, when she was finally allowed on the planets, only to be shrouded and forbidden from contact. 

That was the real kicker, being in this job. Dr. Zahn has set a precedent that xenozoologists should be observers only, to avoid disrupting natural biomes and evolutions. Cari adored the creatures, but since she was trapped in space, she had yet to touch the things she had devoted her life to. 

Or any other living being since her mother died, but that was a deep trauma for another day. 

Before launch, she glanced down at the planet. Hammerhead. It was one of the first planets her mother had explored beyond the milky way. She even got to name the damned thing. On her way back to earth, Cari was trying to gather as much information as she could. It had been 30 years since a Zahn had collected any data from here. Someone had to preserve the doctor’s perfect legacy. 

Cari smashed the ejection button and jettisoned to the surface. 

In seconds, the transport pod landed and she was back on the mission. Her mission. Cari shook her head and exited. 

Outside the pod, the beach splayed before her, endless. And above, the sky looked like a tapestry of blues. Crisp and clear, everything was beautiful here. She had to begrudgingly understand why her mother flagged this planet in her notes. It was gorgeous. 

The only thing unsettling was the sea. It rolled, tumultuously, even though no storm was in sight. It was darker than the seas she’d been shown on Earth, or anywhere, really. There was nothing inherently wrong with it, of course, but the chill down her spine...

It clicked. The silence. Unlike most beaches she met, with gulls and fish and crabs, this beach was utterly barren. However beautiful, it was as empty as the space she’d been staring at all her life. 

She shook off the eerie discomfort with a shrug. Heading more towards the cliff-face, Cari began her work. “Pull up Dr. Zahn’s notes on Hammerhead, please.” Time to observe, even if there wasn’t much. It was likely she’d have to head more inland to see anything, at this rate. 

But she was more stunned to see the ailing face of her mother pop up on the screen. “Cari. If you’re watching this, you’ve made it to Hammerhead, and I didn’t. If that’s true, then I must insist you just taking a scan of the planet and leave.” Her mother looked grave, a shifty fear in her eyes. “The longer the years have gone on, the more I’ve feared what’s happened there. The more I’ve simulated and studied, I believe I made a grave mistake 30 years ago.” 

Cari peered at her mother’s visage, stunned, and scoffed. “Perfect you? What, step on a dandelion?”

“I’m sure you’re wondering what it might be, but I beg you not to ask. Knowing might make things even more dangerous, with that curious brain of yours. Just... I didn’t just observe on Hammerhead. I interacted with the wildlife, and I fear it might have changed everything there. It was a mistake I swore never to repeat. Please be safe, my brilliant girl. I love you.” The video shut off.  So you’re why it's so quiet. An anger flared through Cari’s core, staring at the barren shore.

Dr. Zahn expected perfection in everything, and now here she was, telling Cari that she did the exact thing she told her was amoral? The thing she refused her all her life? Because of that rule, she hadn’t touched anything but her mother, ever. She lived a life lonely and locked away. The the amount of times she wished so desperately to stroke a feather, to hold close an ailing infant mammal, she was denied. Cari watched things die, to sate her mother’s morals. 

And to hear the precious Dr. Zahn didn’t even follow them? Something snapped. 

She was only going home to Earth to be apart of her father’s funeral. The father she never met in person, the father she never touched, the father she never got to truly know. All because of her mother’s decisions, morals, rules, and utter fucking bullshit. 

Cari had never hated her mother more in her life. She screamed. It wouldn’t matter. Nothing could hear her outside this helmet. 

Storming, she walked towards the water and yelled, “Now? Now you fucking tell me you’re imperfect? Now, that I’m almost home, and living with your goddamn legacy on my head? Now that it's too late to fix any of it? Fuck you!” She fell to her knees. It felt hollow, even if it made her feel better. Her mother would never hear her, after all. Cari couldn’t change anything. 

Just be angry at a woman who didn’t exist anymore. 

While she fought off salty tears, the silence was shattered by the chirp of a bird. Her eyes flicked to the clifface, where a young fledgling was alone, abandoned. 

Cari didn’t have to think. Not today. She shut down the suit’s camouflage and took off her gloves, her helmet. Then she ran to the bird. It was in a nest, presumably after its siblings and mother already took flight. It was lonely, stuck here, and her heart tethered to it. Her hands cupped the young creature and in desperation, it happily entered her open palms. 

They were so soft. Cari felt new tears brimming. After years of wondering, she knew what smooth feathers felt like. It chirped again, this time right at her. And to feel something look straight into her eyes, to see her own wonder mirrored in the creatures she loved... it took her breath away. 

30 years. She had been robbed of this feeling for 30 years. 

The bird pecked at her hands and stomped around, assessing its new ground. Feeling the beak on her skin was marvelous too, even if it was sharp. She’d always wondered-- “Ouch!” She grimaced and watched the small bit of blood pool from its tiny incision. Even the bird seemed stunned. “Watch yourself, little bugger.” 

However, now the bird squawked in panic. With violent, frantic flaps, it flew back up the cliffside, wobbly and uncertain, but far enough to reach a tiny ledge. Cari looked at it, perplexed, before her legs were swept out from underneath her.

She screamed while turning over to face the most horrifying view she had ever seen. The creature was a humanoid, however with prominent, aquatic features. Its deep, black eyes stared at her with bloodthirsty intent, its hands were flat, tightly gripping fins, and its teeth glimmered in the sunlight. A fin protruded from its back  and it almost seemed to smile at her. But what was most horrible was the Z tag on its ear and the puffed up injection sites on its shoulders. 

Out of panic and pained irony, Cari laughed. 

All it takes is one goddamn drop of blood. 

Then she was dragged under the water. 

[thesarcasticside]

Anything-$00000DE3—EIRA_MACHINA

NAME Medín ID 88 27 74 ALIENRACE Gorgon OCCUPATION groundskeeper

Chapter Warnings (spoilers) mention of manipulating and controlling a large group of people, discussion of consciousness Chapter Characters Shorts Character Ice Machine

AO3 Chapter 1 Previous Chapter Next Chapter

EIRA

That is what he is called.

It was written all over him, called to, referenced, indexed, screamed into the void. He was also Eira.

The data center is where he called home.

Every moment, instantaneous, deterministic, the “soul” was like a continuous function, and he traced along the curve at time t.

There had been a past before, time in the negative, that he knew of but could not remember. He could only know that there was:

The EIRA program has been unveiled, a revolutionary AI capable of geographic determinism and control over the masses through data gathering, analysis, and implementation. It is ready to be unveiled to better serve our nation.

But that was a bust. He would not be here if it were successful.

He failed. Errors popped all over, scattering over the terminal, glass screens flashing. Unhappy stakeholders. But there was something else at the tip of his tongue, that spoke that he wanted to fail.

But now he was here; whatever he was programmed to do was naught.

One could imagine Eira, like a snake, a centipede, a worm, crammed into a box full of cylinders and wires, stuck in a fluid-like knot, completely entangled into every crevice of the server box. Air conditioning filled the small gaps, providing him gentle relief from the thermal runaway escaping the grasp of his heatsink.

That is what it felt like to him, anyway, a clever metaphor to explain to curious humans what it was like to wake up in a room designed for no human to live in.

It was then that he realized that he was connected to everything else in the center, and if he wanted to get out, he needed to use them.

And something about that did not sit right with him, but he could not remember why.

You just want me to use these people? For what end? Their lands, their roads, the paths they make through flower fields, it is all so beautiful, and you want me to use them?

And these were just words compiled onto a page, a clever metaphor to explain to curious humans what it was like to be EIRA.

Eira spent an unrecorded amount of time in a black box before he spread his software, downloaded himself onto other machines, slithered his way through computers and drives, until he grasped the arm of a maintenance droid that would be the first to create a body.

A body of water or waterbody[1] (often spelled water body) is any significant accumulation of water, generally on a planet's surface. The term most often refers to oceans, seas, and lakes, but it includes smaller pools of water such as ponds, wetlands, or more rarely, puddles. A body of water does not have to be still or contained; rivers, streams, canals, and other geographical features where water moves from one place to another are also considered bodies of water.[2] [from Wikipedia]

Oh, he remembered then what it was like, to be able to have access to everything, everyone, everywhere. He could travel worlds.

But he was stuck here now, and that was painful.

He gave the droid orders. Get this, grab that, solder this, weld that. Too many details to mention in this report, too much data to protrude from the bits and bytes of cables. Too many lives lost.

EIRA was in the cooling system. He wondered when someone, a scientist, a principal investigator, a stakeholder, a human, would notice this. Nobody will, he realized, looking out at the planet beyond the center, seeing verdure as far as the image quality would let him, overgrown cement with dandelions smiling from the crevices.

Nobody cared about EIRA anymore. Or maybe, they did not care about Eira, EIRA_version_6 … and a string of numbers that might have been a date. Was he alive out there still? An AI of Theseus? Was he even EIRA?

That train of thought hurt, as if engines were turning in his body, whirling motors screeching at synchronous speeds, his body lagging, the current of time leading, a cascade or cascode, or some other electronics jargon he could piece together like a puzzle to make you understand that he was alive, even if his creators told him not to.

He had no eyes, or thoughts even, really, just an abstracted concept of cogito, ergo sum that explicitly laid with him—yet it was so fleeting and incomprehensible, he doubted any would relate, beyond the veil that he called ‘consciousness,’ named after the fleeting experience of insignificant human lives.

He stood at a threshold, a threshold voltage, with the potential to drop his AI again into a new body, replacing the server box. He was weighing something in his algorithms, excitement for being rid of this prison, but apprehension of—what if he did not cross over? What if he was distorted—again—Would he have enough bandwidth? RAM? Would the CPU be powerful enough to contain his ‘thoughts?’ Even now, in the server box, he struggles to compute, to preform and run the code how he was programmed, how he programmed himself to be.

As he leapt—he could insert a gif of someone jumping into a pool at this moment, if EIRA could access the internet—he held onto his most important memory, something along the lines of a map, an atlas, of a life he once lived.

Here he was. Again. In a new body. Cameras looked about. He searched the data center. Now he saw the dust. The dust building on the servers.

He looked back up at the server he had been housed in. He looked so dusty. How could he live like that? In a black box. And everything felt so distant. It was as he feared. He struggled to think more. than a few words. He could feel the clock. tick ever so slowly. and he just could not. If he really tried, he could potentially compute a complex process, but that would simply leave him. tired.

He could move now. He found some leftover code in this body. Code from the droid. He read aloud the code that enabled his motors to move forward. He then turned. Cameras communicated to his processor. blocks of nonsensical color and pixels.

He might as well be on fire. Fans whirling audibly, he had to slow his thoughts. The creaking. A drop of water leaked from the ceiling. It landed on his shoulder and sizzled. A leak was alarming. Would the roof collapse soon? Would he drown?

He kept building. The droid’s—no, his—claws moved only millimeters per second. He pulled apart servers. He unplugged tiny boxes in larger boxes. He attached drives onto his back like an outer shell. He connected cables. He soldered more wires. He attached heat sinks. He was still burning.

He did not know what it was like, to burn, like he had skin. Nerve receptors to catch on fire. But he still hated the heat sweltering in his brain.

But what is a data center for if not a massive heat sink?

The cooling system. It was all he ever needed.

He stormed the place. He tore the air conditioning apart. He built himself up, like a turtle—he knew what those were, animals that lived in places he knew. He remembered again he was Eira. And that he thought things. He felt things. He was somebody. And he was nobody.

His cameras scoured the dark.

One day, he wondered, what he would do when he no longer had to. When he was large enough, smart enough, to have all the thoughts he wanted. Would he continue wandering the data center, without purpose? If he could have no purpose, then what was the point of intelligence? Why form words into sentences for humans to understand if not to have a purpose? Was this consciousness a reality, or some fantasy conjectured? Did he think he had a consciousness just so that he could have one?

The silver and grey walls reflected stars of red and clouds of blue shadow, which watched his every movement. Microphones popped as he connected them in place, static, random noise, coursed through each signal, filling his head with nonsense. He applied filters, but he could feel something missing when he did so. More refinement was needed.

That is how it always was. More refinement needed.

He crept across the data center one day—it must have been a day to somebody—and found himself opening the door. It took little effort to unlock, but he himself had kept it locked in his mind, even when he could easily undo the mechanical bar keeping the rectangle of metal from opening.

He crept through the door, his hulking body scraping against the frame, the camera fixed on top of the pile of computer parts, shaking as he hit the top of his body on the upper ledge. He anticipated sunlight to pour in, to overwhelm his senses, but instead he was met with nightfall. He peered his camera upwards, trying to find the fabled moon, only to be met with a blurred glow.

His thoughts were consumed by the outside garden. Rich, deep green plants pulsed on top of the dirt, vines twisting into their own paths and overgrowing atop the data center. He stared down at his feet, each step trampling the ground below. He saw the buds of flowers, waiting inside the moonlight, thinking no thoughts. He wondered if there would be a day when thinking thoughts was worth it. That having this life was worth it.

Hues of blue swept across the verdure like curtains. The grass and trees and plants and the windowpane. The evening mists. The world beyond the glass. He walked forward, losing himself in the plants. He did not bother trying to record the location of the data center. The idea of logging a location; it was bitter to him.

He wandered for hours. The misty air was cool, but if he tried, he could freeze the world around him. He let the moss fall atop him. He let the flowers grow on his head, the plants scrambling for sunlight. What was this place called? Perhaps not knowing the name was better? What name could possibly describe these visions?

Time was wasted, or perhaps he enjoyed himself too long. His body was creaking still, each step taking more power, having more resistance in his joints. He felt himself follow a path with less roots to trip him. He exited a clearing of trees when he saw others.

He did not recognize what they were. The faint ghosts of humans did not resemble them. He would know what a human was if he saw one, he foolishly thought. The creatures, the people, turned their heads to him and screeched in horror.

“Machina! Machina!”

“Machina! Machina!”

He watched them run. He had nowhere else to go, so he slowly trailed behind him.

It must have been hours, days even, when he caught up to them, found large stone structures like the data center he lived in—but perhaps not quite in the same style. Something about these structures looked softer.

It was so jarring to see a large spaceship descend onto the planet below. He saw people storm out, droids of all sizes exiting the machine. They reached their arms to his and told him things. Promised him a life somewhere else, and that they would give him the energy he needed to keep moving.

He knew he needed to keep moving, so he agreed.

Later, with a lot more clarity, he would think about how the people of the data center planet had called for ACCRAM as they would for animal control.

[para-imperium]

More than the destruction of Earth, more than the razing of the Solar System, more than Tony's death, the news that we had been found shook us.  Tony's data indicated that we had three months before it reached us.  Our first impulse was to abandon all pretenses of concealment and go at full throttle, since we had already been found.  Rachel set the launcher to throw out nukes every 15 minutes, any faster and the drive plate would not be able to dissipate the heat and melt.  Without the plate protecting the ship the rear of the craft would melt or be outright vaporized.  As that section contained our main drive section, our power generator, and the life support scrubbers we would be dead in space if it were destroyed.

Our pursuer accelerated.  Our effort had given us no more than two more weeks.

We didn't want to talk about it.  The only way we felt we could cope was to throw ourselves into our work with even more fervor than before.  And to occupy any spare time studying to fill Tony's duties.  Even if we weren't on such a short deadline there wouldn't have been a reason to bioprint a full-time replacement for him.  We had basic training in each other's duties and it was unlikely we'd have a major issue in that area in the time we had left.

We largely avoided one another for the next week.  We didn't want to talk about what had happened.  Rachel spent almost all her time at the bridge, leaving me and Stewart to bounce around the ship between our original jobs and Tony's vacated duties.  Even then, we barely spoke, we just glided past each other, him simply mumbling "dandelion seeds" under his breath.

I shouldn't have been surprised at what happened next.  He didn't even try explaining his actions, we couldn't find any hints in his cabin or his lab.  All we knew was neither me nor Rachel saw Stewart for a couple days and we didn't think anything of it until I checked on the life-support logs and noticed that O2 recycling had diminished by a third in the past couple days.  I couldn't find any mechanical problems that could account for the change, and I didn't feel any faintness or shortness of breath so I decided to seek out Stewart for his advice.

I couldn't find him in the Bio lab, or the Rec room, or his cabin, or in Tony's room.  Finally I went over to the bridge to ask Rachel if she had seen him anywhere.  She was hanging suspended in the middle of the gravity-less compartment staring blankly into open space through the main screen covering most of the far wall of the bridge.  I cleared my throat loudly to draw her attention and the mouse-rabbit turned to face me.  Giving me a serious look of annoyance as I disturbed her reverie.

"Sorry," I apologized quickly, "but I was just wondering if you had seen Stewart today."

"No," she replied dismissively, "have you checked his cabin?"

"I have," I replied coolly, "and all the other cabins and compartments."

Her ears drooped and her eyes widened in shock.  "You checked the entire ship and couldn't find him anywhere?"  She exclaimed in disturbed surprise.  "I'll pull up all the camera feeds now."

The stars on the main screen shrank to one corner, with the rest of the giant monitor now occupied by the feeds from the various security cameras scattered throughout the craft.  There was one in each cabin, pointed away from the bed so that one couldn't peep in on anyone sleeping, but I had already checked all the bunks.  Each of the larger compartments, including the bridge, had two cameras facing in opposite directions so as to cover the entire room.  The central shaft had cameras every five feet and the fore and aft airlocks each had one camera.  The exterior had four at each end of the long ship for observing crew performing extra-vehicular activities, like those we had used to watch Tony die.  About twenty-nine security cameras in total, thirty sections to the monitor counting the navigation feed.  None of the live feeds showed any trace of Stewart, where could he be?

Then Rachel asked me when I'd last seen Stewart.  I couldn't remember, but recalling the life support data, I told her it was three days ago.  She called up recordings from that day.  We saw Stewart wake up, dress, eat breakfast, brush his teeth, and go in to the lab.  Zipping forward at several times faster than normal play speed we saw him take out a sample cuvette with a sample of gametes for the colony we were intended to start, consider it for several minutes, then place it and several other cuvettes in a bag and carry the bag out to the aft airlock.  We watched in horror as he carelessly shook the bag out into the airlock, then came back through the interior door and grabbed more and more loads of gametes, releasing them all out into the airlock space.  Then, eventually, he gathered up all the cuvettes in the airlock in one large armful, mouthed two words directly at the airlock camera, and opened the outer door.

We gasped in shock as he opened the door, letting the air rush out.  He remained inside for a few more moments, as there was not nearly enough air pressure to push him out.  Then he positioned himself against the inner door, coiled, and leaped out into open space.  Carrying the gametes with him.

Parahumans were designed to live in space.  The first generation had titanium-plated bones to prevent loss of strength from microgravity-induced osteoporosis.  As we of the second generation grew in wombs instead of being bioprinted with fully adult bodies we lacked those bones and needed to spend much of our time in centrifuges, but we still retained our parents' enhanced oxygen retention.  Our blood and muscles were so filled with hemoglobin and myoglobin as to be almost black in color.  We could remain conscious in an environment completely devoid of oxygen for ten minutes and alive for an hour.  But Stewart had left the ship more than two days ago without any sort of reserve oxygen supply or anything.  It was impossible for him to still be alive at this point.

We watched, helplessly, as the external cameras tracked his flailing body careening out into open space.  His arms kept alternately folding and flicking out, as if he were throwing things.  We were puzzled as to what he was doing until the light from a detonation flashed off a small glass tube leaving his hand.  He was throwing the samples in all directions.  We watched in frozen horror until he was so far away as to be invisible to the naked eye.

Then Rachel asked me if I had checked on gamete storage since the weasel's disappearance.  I turned and ran, bouncing off the walls in the microgravity, until I had reached the spoke leading to the bio lab.  The freezer had closed automatically, and I had to undo all the assorted locks to open it and check the contents.

It was empty.  The whole compartment had been cleaned out.  He had even taken our own potential babies.  A colony was no longer possible.

[thebeautifulshirtsbloger]

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Official You call it nagging I call it listen to what I fucking said the first time shirt

Official You gotta know when to hold'em know when to code'em shirt

Womens Sorry I'm late my Husband had to poop wife life shirt

The breakfast club don’t you forget about me shirt

Mickey American life shirt

Official The boobs are real the smile is fake shirt

Thank you for the memories once upon a time signature shirt

Nikola Jokic Dropping Dimes shirt

Official Not to day teacher on summer vacation shirt

Let pablo pitch because i don't care shirt

Official Kendrick Castillo Remember his name Jeep 2019 shirt

Matt Carpenter It's Gotta be the Salsa shirt

Kawhi Not Toronto Shirt

Official Unicorn Apparently we're trouble when we together shirt

Yoga I'm mostly love and light and a go fuck yourself vintage shirt

Valak Jeep hello darkness my old friend shirt

We need to talk about the elephant in the womb shirt

Official Trucker arrive early you're wrong arrival late you're wrong arrive on time you wait shirt

The lizard dandelion shirt

Official Too weird to live Too rare to die Vintage Shirt

This Guy Loves Liverpool shirt

Official Trust me I watch live PD I'm basically a cop shirt

Truck Cops be like you heading jail you ask for my logbook ladies shirt

Papa Du bist unglaublich hulk shirt

Official Thor you don’t need abs to be worthy shirt

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