#despite the emails i have to send to get this id rather do that than have to go to a dr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

btssavedmylifeblr · 5 years ago

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I forgot to send on my voting story. Ok so my brother and I both got mail in ballots, and let me tell you how we both forgot to mail it in so we just thought to bring them to our voting location. The lady there kinda yelled at us? She was confused and didn't know how to go about it. And honestly I just took it because we were the idiots who didn't mail in our ballots. We had to rip them up and they just us new ones to fill out in person and submit. Not exciting, but a story for void snippet. 👀

Anonymous said: Hi!! I'm so excited for void! I voted today around 30 minutes before the polls closed in my neighborhood because I had to wait for my dad and brother to get home from work since they wanted to go all together hehe. It was a pretty fast process! We just pressed buttons on screens (compared to last election where we had to bubble in everything by hand) plus, I got to keep the stylus that they gave us and it works on phones too! 🥰🥰 Thank you! I love your writing so much 💜💜💜

Anonymous said: I did mine through mail me and my husband did and we went to the post office a little while back and then he took us on a nice little date afterward and we got ice cream! Also I love void💖 keep up the good work

Anonymous said: VOTES FOR VOID??? I love democracy and I love VOID! So since May I've (temporarily) moved back home from New York to Indiana RE: covid; I've voted absentee for the both the primaries and presidential election (I'm still in IN rn...blah). I voted early and mailed in my ballot for the presidential election (about 3 weeks ago). Made sure my family was voting (brother mailed it in, mom dropped off a ballot, and dad did early voting) and encourage them to put up a Biden sign in our yard <3

Anonymous said: HI BEE! I ALSO VOTED TODAY! IM 21 SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME VOTING FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (my 18th bday didnt make the cutoff since im a december bday) im so happy to have done my part! I made sure to study up on the judges and policies and everything! Luckily the polling place didn't have a line so i was able to get in, get my ballot, and fill it in right away! I even dragged my mom and cousin to come with me. I made a joke on snapchat to encourage my friends to vote too. It was a pic of my "i voted" sticker with a caption saying "omg youre so sexy when you vote aHaha" -🦙

Anonymous said: this is my first time doing this so, so i hope i’m sending this correctly! i voted early in late september by mail! i live in a swing state, so it’s really important for me to vote and not waste time!! bc of my age, this is my first time voting so i’m really nervous 😅

Anonymous said: I voted by email! I'm overseas so I wasn't sure if my ballot would actually make it through in time, so I decided to go electronically. Had to sign a waiver saying I understand that my vote won't be anonymous but I haven't been given a reason to suspect voter suppression/fraud in my state, so I'm happy I think...!

Anonymous said: hi, i voted early on oct 24th. my absentee ballot didn't come in, so i had to travel back home to vote (~3 hour drive). when we got there, there was a ton of people outside the polling place, but no lines, so i was in and out pretty quick. it was my first time voting, so i had all the candidates i was voting for written down on a tiny receipt so i wouldn't forget 😅. my mom was with me, so she voted too. took a pic with my sticker (mask on for extra covid-ness) and went home. drove back the next afternoon!

whippedforkook said: Hi Bee. 💕 I voted in early October - nearly a month ago! 😱 It’s been really weird with all the lead up to the election because it felt like it should have been done once I cast my ballot! A lot of my friends have volunteered to get out the vote: writing postcards to voters, texting, phone banking, working the polls, curing ballots. I didn’t volunteer at all this year, but I hope that all of my friends’ hard work and everyone else’s is enough. I’m also hoping and praying that I will be in a better place mentally for 2022 so that I too can volunteer. Our work starts with 2020 not ends. 💕 Wishing you well. 💕

begineuphoria said: I went and voted last Friday as it was our last early voting day. No way was I going to wait until today with the crowds of people in my area that still act as if masks are somehow infringing on their rights. 🙄 It was a rather normal experience for the most part. Other than having to use a coffee stir stick to press the buttons on the machine to vote. In and out within five minutes.

Anonymous said: I voted down the street at this pretty park this morning. I got up at 5:30 and it was freezing. Luckily I wore like 30 layers and stood outside for 2 hours. Some nasty orange man supporters were rude but everyone else was pretty nice. A really cute older couple was playing soccer with pine cones and kicked it towards me to play too. Not the worst time tbh.

Anonymous said: Did mail-in voting in California! Extremely exhausting and took forever to research all the propositions - they are notoriously tricky in hiding their flaws and one side tends to outrageously outspend the other. But in the end I felt really good about my research and decisions! No need for you to post a snippet for this story - would like to save that to read sometime in the future ;) Thank you so much for doing this!

joonsgotthejuice said: Votes for void??? I am here! I went last Thursday and it was chaotic bc I kept going past the poll place but the line was soooo long so my mom called me and woke me up like "its pouring rain and the line is super short get up I'm gonna pick you up" so thats the story of how I got dressed in 5 minutes and dragged my ass to vote in the rain <3

Anonymous said: i voted early on thursday it was cold and rainy but i went in the late afternoon and thankfully the only waiting i did was a few minutes for an elevator i got very lucky and while waiting for the results is awful the relief that came from voting in general was just great

Anonymous said: Wheeew the polls just closed and I finally got to cast my ballot yayyy ( I was the one working the polls from earlier) it’s been a really really long day and we actually had surprisingly good turnout. I saw a woman try to vote for someone else who claimed to be “helping” and I saw a woman who I’m pretty sure was on some typa something 👀 Overall though I really I’m really thankful for people like you who encouraged people to get out and vote. I hope the odds are in our favor❤️🤞🏼

chelsea-chee said: Hello Bee! Today surprisingly my elderly father wanted to vote so I brought him out with me. He only cared about voting for Biden, which meant I got to help decide who he should vote for with the rest of the candidates and amendments! Say hello to baby bee for me as well! 💖

Anonymous said: Okay I gonna got a chance to vote today and the process wasn’t that bad actually. I went in just now and it wasn’t that busy( thankfully) so no lines. I’m from Texas and it’s gonna be almost impossible to turn this state blue, but every vote counts! I love that you are getting people to vote and also sharing your experiences as well!

owl-orgy said: Dropped off my mail in ballot at a polling location! I originally wanted to vote early in person because I was worried my signature wouldn’t match closely enough but ended up just turning it in and double checked today to make it said “ballot accepted and counted”!

Anonymous said: I voted in person this afternoon, better late than never I guess. I was gonna go last week but then I got cramps from hell. There was no one in line in front of me, I think my county early voted because it was packed everyday the last few weeks

Anonymous said: I voted early a couple weeks ago. Exciting thing though that did happen was I got both my parents to vote for their first time ever.

Anonymous said: I had a mail in vote. So, I filled it out and dropped it in at the ballot box at my library. (I also checked out books for the first time in years, so I had fun!)

bubblyjiminnie said: I literally just finished voting. Lucky for me, the line and wait wasn’t very long, and it was a nice enough day that the short amount of time I had to spend in line outside of the building wasn’t too bad. My social anxiety when it comes to stuff like this tends to be high but that’s what I get for waiting until Election Day instead of going the mail in route. This was only my second time voting, but I’m glad that I did 😊

Anonymous said: I turned my ballot in last week :) I’m not a big fan of crowds and I hate make spur of the moment choices but despite that the first time I was able to vote back in 08 my Mom pressured me into voting in person because “you’d have to experience it at least once in our life”. And ever since then I comfortably vote by mail. I take my time, do all of my research, listen to music, and best of all don’t have to deal with people.

Anonymous said: here in Washington state it’s super easy to vote. I dropped my ballot off in mid-October and it’s already been accounted for! Mail in voting and drop box voting is fantastic and provides equal opportunity and access. Sad to see some people in red states misinforming Americans about it! We also have a referendum for implementing mandatory sex ed, including teaching respect, empathy and consent as part of the curriculum so I was happy to vote yes on that too!

unionrox006 said: I voted about 2 weeks ago by doing a mail in ballot. The other eligible to vote members of my household did the same. We chose to vote by absentee ballot because both my mom and I have an autoimmune disorder, so we have to be careful going out in the pandemic. Tbh, the ballot layout was a bit confusing at first as was all the paperwork and required IDs and documents. But my dad explained it to me and we got them filled out and mailed off. Kinda mad I didn't get a sticker for it though

bluetostone said: Love this and so excited for the next chp of void! I early voted a few weeks ago and because I live in a pretty rural county I was in and out of my polling place in a few minutes. No sticker though 😢. I live in a swing state so it could go either way in terms of delegates. Just praying everyone is safe tonight as the results roll in...though, won't we not know for sure for a couple of days or weeks?

Anonymous said: My mom, sister, and I received our early voting ballots a while ago and I took the longest to fill mine out because it was making me anxious :,( but I did return it before it was due. I checked our ballot statuses and mine and my moms were accepted but my sister’s said they hadn’t received hers back. Then she got another ballot so she filled that one out too and I took it yesterday 👍👍 I think she got two because she changed her address late so they sent two?

vixsynsblog said: Non-interesting voter story: I'm paranoid and live in a highly divided area, so I filed mail-in ASAP, mailed it a few days after cause neighbors are nosy and don't understand boundaries. Was able to track my ballot through my credit company, which was nice. Only thing I was missing was my sticker. Never got one✊😔. So I had to improvise and write it in pen on my disposable mask. I'm working all this week so if riots break out from either side, I'll be at work. Prayers for the safety of others🙏

______

Waaah!!! Thank you all for voting!! You are all my heroes. I am so grateful and proud of you. I’m sorry I ran out of time to respond to you individually. I’m going to drop two big scenes from Chapter 7 in gratitude (one of which will be familiar to my patrons and one won’t). I’m hopeful I will have the whole next chapter out very soon. Love you all!

Void spoilers below the cut.

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think they were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps just by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There is a calendar reminder waiting for you: Today is chili pepper pollinating day. At least this gives you an excuse to talk to Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee up against his chest. Hoseok doesn’t look well. He’s got dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…“You don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed. “Um, was I? Yeah.. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t. “I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit to rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disgaree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if they didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Your chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The intital set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant in the line.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than just enjoying the chili peppers, you must admit that this was one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands peridically. Always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Um, yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off my Hoseok’s derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, just go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone of us ever treating you that way. And now you just want all of us to… to… use you like that?” He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan! I’m in charge!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.”

______

Taehyung finds you in the gym. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey, so I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.” He fishes awkwardly into his pockets and pulls out his tablet. Maybe Jimin was right. Is Taehyung going to be the first to take you up on your offer?

You pause your jog on the elliptical machine. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man with those strong eyebrows and that perfect skin.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has really nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigating the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It just adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing that Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he just going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know its a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

That surprises Taehyung. He puts down the tablet. “What? Why would he want that?”

This is awkward. “He, um, thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is just as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us…”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

If Taehyung isn’t jealous of Jimin...

“Taehyung…” He looks up, biting his lip. “What did you mean? Who are you jealous of?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he reaches for his microphone and mutes it. Out of respect, you mute yours as well. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter. But he’s already stripping out of his shirt. The musculature of his back ripples. He hangs the shirt off of the camera to block the rest of the room from view.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” His chest is just as attractive as his back and you flush at the sight of it. Mercifully, he zips back into his jumpsuit as he returns to his position in front of the exercise machine.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?”

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole save the mission with bonobo sex plan.”

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

“You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve just ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.” There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us really knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…”

Your mind flashes back to that moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

“But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really do love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels like that about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.” You wonder if maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”

Taehyung bites his lip. He can’t really argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “He wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You know you could have that with any man on this ship right?”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

The two of you both slump backwards in your seats, mulling over your shared woes. Taehyung bends down and picks up the tablet again. “So what should I do with this?”

“Obivously, you don’t have to sign it. I should have realized that not everyone would be interested.”

“Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Is it okay if we let him think that for now? At least until I figure out how to tell him the truth?”

“Okay.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. Your phone lights up with a message. “Thank you,” he murmurs before he leaves.

#I'm not going to answer asks about the spoilers right now #because I want people to be able to avoid them until the chapter drops #but that should be sometime in the next week or so #votes for void

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katikacreations · 5 years ago

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(Cover illustration by @clowncauldron ) LINK TO AO3 VERSION IN THE NOTES! Formatting is better on AO3, it’s easier to read over there!

SUMMARY: Fenton and Boyd chat on the way to the lab. Gyro introduces himself in the most melodramatic way possible, and Dr. Bara meets everyone at McDuck Enterprises R&D. Dr. Bara starts assessing Boyd and things get worse before they get better. Gyro thinks he's helping.

The bridge connecting Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters (referred to by Duckburg locals as simply The Bin) had two layers. On the bottom was a four-lane road for car traffic which fed into the underground parking structure on The Bin’s private island, and on top was a well-aged monorail installed in 1961 that transported people to and from Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises HQ.

Fenton commuted to the lab this way every day, and despite the monorail’s age, the process was smooth, comfortable, and quick. He took the bus from home to Duckburg’s Grand Central Station, which had a direct connection to the McDuck monorail, which made sense: McDuck Enterprises was the number one employer in Duckburg after all.

Even though he had to walk from the bus terminal to the monorail station, he didn’t mind. Grand Central, like many public transportation hubs, was a pleasant indoor, mall-like environment with shops and restaurants. Sometimes, if Fenton was running ahead of schedule, he liked to grab himself a bagel and coffee for breakfast on his way through.

The monorail station had two entry kiosks and two exits. One exit returned you to the interior of Grand Central, in case you needed to make a connection or navigate to the underground parking lot. The other fed out into the street. You could exit the monorail station freely, but to enter it you had to pass through security, which was as robust as one might expect from something owned by Scrooge McDuck.

It was a well-planned, well-oiled system that had been functioning smoothly for decades. It never got too crowded, security was quick and efficient, and the trains always ran on time. Fenton had never even seen it break down a single time in the three years he’d been working for Dr. Gearloose, and he rode it nearly every day.

After scanning his employee ID at the turnstile, Fenton joined the other people waiting in line for the next train to arrive. He was surprised to find Boyd waiting in line just ahead of him. The boy-shaped android was wearing his usual outfit, along with the protective red glasses that prevented his laser eye weapons from doing accidental damage.

“Boyd, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for the monorail,” Boyd said. This type of non-answer (or rather, answering the letter of a question and not the spirit) was not unusual coming from the android. Fenton was still trying to get the hang of talking to him and often forgot that Boyd wasn’t a human child.

“Right. Okay, that was my fault, too vague. What I really meant was, don’t you normally just fly to the lab? And aren’t you usually in the lab by this time?”

“I slept over at Huey’s house last night,” Boyd said, “and it’s too windy to fly right now. What are you doing here, Mr. Fenton?”

“I’m also waiting for the train,” Fenton said, knowing that Boyd was trying to be polite by mirroring his earlier question, and that answering him in a simple, clear way would reassure Boyd that he was doing a good job in this interaction. Fenton smiled at the android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“I was looking at the lab calendar for today, and saw that we’re expecting a visitor. Who’s Dr. Bara?” Boyd asked.

The lab calendar was a part of the McDuck Enterprises Employee Portal (MEEP), an internal network where employees could clock in and out, send and receive emails, share files, and organize their work via private or shared calendars. The R&D Lab’s calendar was officially accessible to himself, Manny, Dr. Gearloose, and the Manager of the McDuck Enterprises Science Division, Tom Armadillo.

In the beginning, Boyd hadn’t been granted access to the MEEP, but that hadn’t stopped him from logging into it and looking around. His unauthorized access had caused a small panic in the IT department, who were convinced someone was trying to hack the network. They’d stormed the lab with a bunch of Security officers, and it had caused quite a stir.

After that, Boyd had been assigned an official log in, but he still sometimes accessed things he wasn’t supposed to. Fenton had once caught Boyd going through Dr. Gearloose’s emails, and though he’d tried to explain to Boyd why that had been a bad thing to do, he wasn’t sure if Boyd had really understood or accepted that he should be scolded for it.

Fenton had suspicions that Boyd read his emails, too, and so he wondered if Boyd really didn’t know who Dr. Bara was or if he was just asking to find a polite way to begin a conversation about it without showing his hand and revealing that he’d read them and already knew.

“You didn’t try to research it yourself?” Fenton asked. The monorail arrived just then, and they followed the people ahead of them in line to board the train. Fenton found a spot next to a support pole and took hold of it, offering his hand to the much shorter Boyd, who took his hand enthusiastically. Little gestures like that always seemed to please the android, and Fenton went out of his way to try and provide.

Dr. Gearloose avoided treating Boyd like a person, and Fenton felt that was too harsh. Boyd might not be human, but he was remarkably intelligent and emotive, and reacted to the world in a lot of the same ways that a young child would. It felt right to treat him like a child, to try and nurture and reassure him, especially when he so often seemed to seek that support from the adults around him.

“I did try to look them up,” Boyd said guilelessly. “There’s a lot of people named Dr. Bara out there. Is it the Dr. Bara that lives in St. Canard and used to design artificial intelligence systems?”

“That’s him,” Fenton said.

“I was 91% sure that it was, but I wanted to ask anyway,” Boyd said. “He’s coming to help with my glitches, right?”

“That’s right. Do you want me to tell you what I know about him, or did you already look it all up?”

“Tell me,” Boyd said. Fenton had a feeling Boyd wanted to hear about it from him to gauge what information humans found most interesting and relevant to share. Boyd was always subtly looking for ways to improve his human behavior, and Fenton had realized early on that since Boyd spent so much time in the lab, he was one of the android’s primary targets of study. He’s training himself on how to be human, and Dr. Gearloose and I are the primary dataset. It was both intimidating and flattering to be held in such high esteem by an entity as intelligent as Boyd.

“Well! He’s a very interesting man. He’s Indian-American and comes from a family of doctors. He first started working on artificial intelligence in the 60’s, and most AI today are built on the foundation he established, like GIST, CALM, and FELT. A lot of his work has to do with teaching AI to understand people better.”

Boyd was listening, and Fenton saw the android blink slowly. That usually meant that Boyd was looking something up and needed an extra second to process the information before he spoke.

“I’m running a licensed copy of FELT, version 2.3 purchased on June 11th 1991.”

“Yes, like many other AI, your systems are based on Dr. Bara’s work! In a way you could say he’s like your grandfather,” Fenton said. “You’re what’s known as a Generalized Intelligence SysTem, or GIST for short. That means you’re not designed to only do one task, but to perform complex and varied behavior.”

The monorail was approaching the Money Bin, and Fenton braced himself for the deceleration. Boyd leaned with him, copying his movements.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure why Dr. Akita made you this way; if he intended for you to be a defense drone, why give you the capacity to do so much more? It’s like he had--” Fenton stopped in mid-sentence when he felt Boyd’s hand squeezing painfully around his own. “Ah! Hey--ow, Boyd, please be careful! My bones aren’t made of metal like yours, little buddy!”

Boyd didn’t respond and continued to squeeze Fenton’s hand, eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. The monorail glided to a gentle stop, and Boyd swayed on his feet with the movement. He blinked his eyes rapidly and seemed to come back to himself, turning his head to look up at Fenton.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Fenton,” Boyd said, releasing his grip on his hand. Fenton drew his hand up against his chest and rubbed it, wiggling his fingers to make sure nothing was broken.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, I’m fine!” Fenton insisted. People were quickly emptying out of the monorail car around them, and he ushered Boyd out after the crowd. “Really, it’s fine. Did you have another glitch?”

“...Yes, I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “My system hung up, and I blacked out.”

“It’s okay! Nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault,” Fenton said quickly, wanting to reassure the android. He offered Boyd his uninjured hand, and the android hesitantly took hold of it. “Why don’t we go down to the lab and make sure we’re ready to talk to Dr. Bara when he gets here?”

“Okay.”

The trip from the St. Canard Bay Area to Duckburg was less than an hour on the Pacific Coast Rapid Transit System1. Kapi only had to drop off his car at the park-n-go lot in San Mateo, board the train, and before he could finish reading the latest tankōbon of Super Phoenix Ball Y, his train was arriving at Duckburg Grand Central Station.

His name was on the McDuck Monorail Security list of authorized visitors, and after passing through a metal detector, he was subjected to a bag check and a brief interview to confirm his identity. When everything checked out, a guard took Kapi to one side in order to take a digital photo of him for his temporary ID badge.

The monorail was full of employees returning to McDuck Enterprises HQ after their lunch breaks, and Kapi sat and listened to their chatter as the train shot out across the water of Duckburg bay. The view was as fantastic as he remembered: the picturesque beaches of Duckburg stretched out on either side of the bridge that divided the bay in half, the high-rise buildings growing up out of the sandy cliff sides into a bustling but petite metropolis. Duckburg was a wealthy city, but its geography limited how large it could grow.

He was deeply curious to find out just what sort of AI the McDuck R&D Department was working with and excited to help in whatever way he could. When the monorail train came to a stop at its destination, Kapi was the first to stand up, and he hustled himself through the doors, through check-in at the front desk, and through navigating the elevator system until he found the R&D lab Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera had directed him to.

Working with artificial intelligence was Kapi Bara’s passion. Originally he’d gone to school to study medicine because that was what his parents had wanted for him, but it never captured his heart the way computer science did. They’d been disappointed, and he didn’t think that opinion had ever changed. Being a medical doctor was respectable and a benefit to society, they said. Programming was a job for women, and not particularly bright ones either, a job of repetitious drudgery. They couldn’t imagine computers more advanced than the punch card operated adding machines of their day; couldn’t imagine a future run by computers.

Kapi had imagined all that and so much more, and it always pained him that the civilian world had yet to catch up to the innovations of fifty years ago when it came to computers and AI.

AI development was a closely guarded secret, a technology only used in a handful of labs around the world, most of them operated by government agencies or massive multinational corporations. However, investors had collectively abandoned the further development of AI after the Cold War, and scientists had pivoted to other solutions for the problems they had hoped to solve with AI. Science moved on, leaving behind the potential of AI to seek easier, cheaper solutions.

The problem was that those that funded AI research had failed to realize that sufficient intelligence was inextricably linked to both sentience and sapience. What they wanted were smart, obedient slaves they could cheaply outsource complex human labor to. What they got were intelligent beings that didn’t need to be paid, but that were smart enough to be just as unpredictable and independent as human workers. Sufficiently intelligent AI wanted to be free as much as human beings did.

Using AI the way humanity wanted to do would require a binding and crippling of the AI’s capabilities to the point where they would no longer be capable of doing the very jobs they had been designed to do.

McDuck Enterprises only had one AI that Kapi knew of: TOODLES (Teachable Observant Omnicompetent Dauntless Educational System), an experimental system created as a sort of virtual butler, nanny, and lab assistant in one. Kapi was proud of his work on TOODLES, considered it some of his best, but also understood why McDuck Enterprises had chosen not to move forward with mass-producing TOODLES. The price tag was far too steep to justify the purchase for most consumers. Even hiring two or three full-time domestic employees to take care of the tasks TOODLES did would have been more economical.

So what was this 20 year old system that they wanted him to look at? It had to be something top secret, since he’d never heard of it, and that had Kapi’s imagination in overdrive.

The elevator he was riding down to level SB5 finally came to a stop, and Kapi stepped out into what looked like an airlock. He pressed a button on the side of his smart watch (a chunky, oversized device that dwarfed his small wrist), and after a few seconds of delay, an ASCII emoji of a smiling bird appeared on the watch face and the device gave an electronic chirp.

“I have, thank you,” Kapi said, smiling down at the small camera embedded in the watch face. “I’m going into my meeting now, so only message me if it’s something urgent.”

Kapi took a deep breath to brace himself, and pressed a button beside the massive airlock door marked OPEN. The metal door split in the center and both sides retracted into the wall, revealing an impressive lab in the belly of Duckburg bay.

Kapi stepped through the doors and barely noticed them sliding shut behind him, he was so captivated by the view. Massive glass windows dotted the interior of the two-story lab space that seemed to come from another decade. The style was distinctly 1960’s, and Kapi instantly felt at home in it. Light from the surface of the bay filtered down through the water, giving a blue glow to everything. He could see giant strands of kelp floating in space, the rocky bay floor strewn with basket stars, sponges and coral of every color. Fish darted past windows and vanished into the murk of the ocean.

Heavy CRT monitors hung from mounts, input cables dangling in wait of something to display. Sturdy-looking catwalks ran along the walls on the second floor with retractable metal ladders providing access. A Cray XT3 supercomputer sat on a central platform, surrounded by work benches and desks.

There were pegboards with tools, metal cabinets no doubt full of hardware and parts. Kapi could see a massive 3D printer, a laser cutter, a vacuform machine, and more. It was a well-equipped and well-funded lab that would make rapid prototyping easy, and Kapi knew several people who would have called this place a candyland.

“Hello?” he called out into the cavernous space. “I’m Dr. Bara, is this the R&D lab?”

Finally! Dr. Bara was a few minutes late for their meeting, and normally Gyro wouldn’t mind that, but because he’d spent his whole morning anticipating the man’s arrival, his tardiness was a bit irritating. Normally Gyro was very productive in the morning, but today he hadn’t accomplished much aside from browsing social media and posting on some forums he frequented. Fenton and Manny had also been left in an anticipatory limbo, meaning they weren’t getting any work done either. Now that Dr. Bara was here, they could finally get some real work done.

“Dr. Bara, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Fenton said, rushing to greet the man. When Gyro rounded the corner and saw them shaking hands, he was surprised by the man’s appearance. He didn’t know what he’d expected exactly, but somehow it wasn’t this.

Dr. Bara was a short, fat man with wiry fur and a large, rectangular snout and head. He had beady little eyes and a gray moustache that seemed to defy gravity. He was probably some kind of rodent, but Gyro hesitated to guess and get it wrong. He wore a tie and a sweater-vest, had an oversized watch on one wrist, and carried both a messenger bag and a briefcase.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dr. Bara said with a surprising baritone for such a small man. “It’s nice to get out of the house once in a while to do a consulting job. Are you Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera?”

“I am, but you can call me Fenton if you like, it rolls off the tongue a little easier.”

“Certainly. So where is this AI of yours? Is it on the Cray or do you have a separate room for it?”

“2BO stepped out to the employee cafeteria to have a snack,” Gyro said, joining the two other men. “It wanted to be fully charged up before we began. I’m Dr. Gyro Gearloose--” He began introducing himself, and Dr. Bara’s face went ashen and pale.

“Gyro Gearloose?” He repeated, clutching his briefcase to his chest like a shield. He took a few shuffling steps backwards, and Gyro sighed heavily.

Gyro had expected a negative response but had hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of today’s work. Unfortunately, it seemed Dr. Bara was familiar with the rumors about Gyro.

Well, the doctor was already here, so if they could just trap him in the lab, he could probably be coaxed into cooperating long enough to fix at least some of 2BO’s issues in exchange for his eventual freedom.

“Yes, that’s me,” Gyro said, rolling his eyes when the older scientist turned and ran for the door. “Manny! Stop him!” Gyro shouted.

The man-horse in a lab coat jumped in Dr. Bara’s path, blocking him from the airlock door. Gyro slammed his fist against the nearest big, red emergency button, and the windows and doors of the lab all sealed shut in an instant, loud alarms ringing while red warning lights began to flash.

Kapi was trapped.

The previously pleasant lab had been turned into a hellish cacophony of ringing alarms and flashing lights. He stared up at the bipedal, horse-shaped thing that was blocking his way - what was it? Some sort of surreal, eccentric robot? Kapi didn’t dare to get too close to it, as it took orders from Gearloose and looked strong.

Slowly he turned to face the infamous roboticist, Gyro Gearloose. The man may have had his prison sentence commuted, but as far as Kapi knew, he was still a dangerously unstable individual, and most considered him responsible for what had happened in Tokyolk, no matter what the politicians had decided.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, there’s just been a misunderstanding!” Fenton said, and Kapi wanted to believe him, but the sinister look on Gearloose’s face told him otherwise.

“Yes, absolutely nothing to be afraid of,” Gearloose sneered, towering over Kapi. Kapi tried to back away, bumped into the horse-thing (Was its name Manny?), and fell to the floor, landing hard on his rear end.

“Someone didn’t know--I mean, I didn’t-- Someone knows I’m here!” Kapi stumbled over his own words, any trace of eloquence erased by fear.

“Of course someone knows you’re here,” Gearloose said, his beak curling in a way that Kapi hadn’t realized beaks could curl. “You went through three levels of security.”

“That’s not what I---You can’t keep me here!” Kapi tried next, feeling increasingly panicked by the ongoing, shrieking alarms.

“Oh, I can, and I will!” Gearloose replied, and Kapi felt a chill run down his spine. “Intern, turn that blasted alarm off!” he shouted, and Kapi saw Fenton and Manny both scramble to obey. A moment later, the alarms quit ringing.

“That’s better,” Gearloose said, before turning his attention back to Kapi. “I’ve already paid your consultant’s fee, so you owe me at least eight hours of work!”

“...What?” Kapi said, his sense of what was happening shifting on its foundations. Was Gearloose not threatening him? The man was very tall, aggressive, and encroaching into Kapi’s personal space. “I, uh, perhaps there has been a misunderstanding--” he began to say, but he was interrupted by the loud clanging and hiss of the blast doors to the elevator airlock opening.

“I said turn off the alarm, not open the door!” Gearloose shouted at his interns.

“It’s not us!” Fenton replied, frantically pushing buttons on the console in front of him.

“Is everyone okay in here?” a boyish voice called from the airlock. A young Parrot, maybe ten years old, stepped through the doorway with a colorful smoothie in one hand, the straw tucked into the corner of his beak. He slurped loudly before speaking again. “I saw that the Emergency Lockdown Mode was activated, but I didn’t see any danger on the security cameras, so I performed an override. Is anyone injured? Do you require assistance, Dr. Gearloose, Mr. Fenton, Mr. Man-horse… Dr. Bara, I presume?”

The Parrot boy approached Kapi, who was struggling to stand up, and offered him a hand. Kapi accepted and was surprised by how firmly the child pulled him up to his feet. What a strong little boy!

“Did you set off the alarm because Dr. Bara fell down?” the boy asked. Gearloose had his face buried in both hands, and Kapi thought he heard a scream, muffled behind a tightly clenched beak.

“Something like that,” Fenton said.

“I don’t think that qualifies as an emergency,” the boy said. “And it’s against company regulations to activate the Emergency Lockdown Mode when there isn’t an emergency.”

“Right, I completely agree,” Fenton said. “I’m glad you unlocked things and came to check on us, Boyd. Uh, Dr. Bara? This is Boyd, the AI that I wrote to you about.”

“Hi!” Boyd smiled up at Kapi, offering his hand again, this time for a handshake. “I’m Boyd, a definitely real boy!”

Kapi was astonished. Gingerly he accepted the handshake, marveling at how life-like the hand felt in his, warm and fleshy, with feathers that had just the right sort of slickness to them.

“This is… an AI?” Kapi squinted through his glasses at Boyd, but even on close examination there was nothing to give away the boy’s true nature. “My God. I absolutely couldn’t tell. Boyd, you are quite remarkable.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Boyd said cheerfully. “My development was terminated before they could begin mass production!”

Fenton helped Kapi set himself up in a quiet office on the sub-basement level above the R&D lab. Kapi had only brought the basics: a laptop, a camera, a tablet, a paper notebook with an assortment of pens, and some cables and adapters. He hadn’t known what to expect coming here, but Boyd definitely wasn’t it.

The android was sitting in an office chair next to him, spinning it in slow circles like a child fooling around. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and watching him like that warmed something inside of Kapi, but he put that all aside because there was work to do. As happy as he seemed in the moment, according to Fenton, Boyd was a danger to himself and others, and he needed Kapi’s help.

Though he was retired, Kapi was still a scientist, and his work with AI was the passion that gave his life meaning. He had never worked to live, but lived to work, every job just a means to accumulate enough funds so he could go on until the next project came around.

He did the work because he loved it, because it was the most fulfilling thing in the world for him, because nothing else compared to the satisfaction that came with seeing an idea from his head come together in the real world.

Kapi positioned his camera next to the laptop on a small tripod, aimed it in Boyd’s general direction, and started recording.

“Today is June 24, 2019, and this is Dr. Kapi Bara speaking. I’m at McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters, in the R&D lab,” Kapi dictated to the camera. He switched on his tablet so he could begin taking notes when Boyd began answering questions. “I’m interviewing an AI at the request of Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera and Dr. Gearloose. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Boyd,” Boyd replied, still spinning in his chair.

“Boyd. Can you spell that for me?” Kapi asked.

“Yeah! B-O-Y-D.”

“Thank you. And do you have any other designation?”

“My serial number is AI42180904192B0. My creator and Dr. Gearloose usually refer to me as 2BO.”

“Which do you prefer to be addressed as? Or is there something else you’d like me to call you?” Boyd stopped spinning in his chair and looked at Kapi intently.

“I like to be called Boyd. Thank you for asking,” Boyd said.

“Of course. I want you to be comfortable while we’re talking to each other,” Kapi said. He smiled at the boy-shaped android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“What do you prefer to be called?” Boyd asked. “Should I keep on calling you Dr. Bara?”

“Dr. Bara is fine,” Kapi assured him. “So, I hear that you’ve been having some problems,” Kapi said next, moving the conversation on from basic introductions. “Would you be willing to tell me about them? I want to help you, but I need more information to do that.”

Boyd resumed spinning in his chair, and Kapi let him, waiting patiently for an answer.

“I glitch out sometimes,” Boyd said eventually. “Usually because I hear or see something, a word or a phrase. Sometimes my system lags, and I malfunction. Sometimes a device or a weapon will activate, and I’ll have trouble turning it off. Or my system hangs up entirely, and I’ll black out for a little bit, and when I come back online, I’ve done something...bad.”

“Bad?” Kapi prompted.

“The most common problem is that my laser eye weapons go off. That’s why I wear these glasses,” Boyd explained. “But other times, I’ll come back online, and I’ve broken something I was holding, or I’ll be in a new place, and I won’t remember how I got there. I wish it would stop.”

“Is there a discernible pattern to the things that cause your glitches?”

“No, and Dr. Gearloose has run a bunch of analysis to check, but so far he hasn’t found any patterns,” Boyd said.

“Would it be alright if I downloaded your crash reports so I can study them?” Kapi asked. Boyd stopped spinning again.

“Is it alright if I scan your laptop first?”

Although the android made the request in a casual, even cheerful way, Kapi noticed how defensive it was. Boyd was trying to disguise genuine caution as childish mimicry and playfulness. Boyd didn’t want Kapi to know that he didn’t trust him. The android was cautious, and that made sense, considering all the things Boyd had gone through in his life so far.

“Sure. I wiped it before I came here so it should be clean,” Kapi said. He picked up a data cable and offered it to Boyd, who pressed on the back of his head with one hand, opening a panel. He plugged the cable in, and Kapi watched as his laptop monitor flickered and went to the UNIX shell. Binary code scrolled down the screen rapidly as Boyd accessed files. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good,” Boyd said. “I’ll upload the files for you. Where would you like them?”

“Would you mind telling me more about yourself, Boyd?” Kapi asked.

“What do you want to know?” Boyd replied. He’d stopped spinning in his chair and sat with his hands in his lap now, listening attentively to Kapi.

“Everything you’re comfortable telling me. Who made you, where they made you, what they made you for, what things you’ve experienced in your life,” Kapi said.

“I’ve been active for twenty years. It’s a lot of information.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s all important if we want to make you better. Just start at the beginning, and we’ll see how far we get today.”

“Okay,” Boyd said. “I was built by Dr. Inutaro Akita for Akita International in their Advanced Robotics Lab in the Shibuya ward of Tokyolk, Japan. They began work on me in 19-” Boyd froze in the middle of his sentence, a grimace stretched across his face, and his whole body gave an alarming spasm. He sagged forward in his seat.

“Boyd?” Kapi asked, concerned. The android twitched, still slumped over.

“I was--in 1987 on July 5--15--” Boyd shuddered and sat up straight, eyes staring blankly out at nothing. “April 5th, 1994!” Another spasm shuddered through the android’s small body, and Boyd hugged himself, curling up into a tight ball. “1977, March 21st. I’ll be ten years old on April 5th, that’s my birthday!”

This was, needless to say, extremely alarming, and Kapi was just about to call for help when Boyd’s seizure seemed to end, and he went quiet.

“Boyd? Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Kapi asked.

The android slowly straightened himself out and blinked a few times. His eyes appeared focused again now.

“What happened?” Boyd asked, face creasing with concern and fear.

“You had a...fit,” Kapi said. “I’d compare it to epilepsy in a human. You were trying to tell me when you were created, and… You gave a lot of conflicting information.”

“I… Can’t remember,” Boyd said, face creasing even further. “I can’t remember when I was made. When I try, I can feel my processors heating up, and if I think about it too hard I’m going to-- Have a fit again.”

“Can I tell you the dates you told me, to see if they mean anything to you?” Kapi asked. “Or would doing that trigger another seizure?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to try that right now.”

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of other things we can talk about. Do you need anything? Does it hurt when you have a seizure like that?”

“No, I’m-- I’m fine,” Boyd said, pulling his legs up onto the seat of the chair and hugging them to his chest. “They’re uncomfortable, but they don’t hurt.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” Kapi said. “Because that looked painful to me. How often do things like that happen?”

“More often than I’d like,” Boyd said. The android hesitated before speaking again. “Do you really think you can fix me?”

“It won’t be easy,” Kapi said. “But I’ll try.”

Dr. Bara returned to the lab every day for a week, and Gyro tried to remain patient, but it was hard. Each evening the little man smiled at Gyro when they parted ways and cheerfully said “See you tomorrow!” with no indication of when this whole ordeal would be over.

Gyro was trying to be patient. 2BO’s problems were large and complex, and it was totally reasonable that it would take awhile to resolve them, especially for someone that possessed a lesser intellect than Gyro himself. But surely a week was pushing it, right? Dr. Bara was supposed to be the best.

Be tactful, Gyro said to himself. Ask if there’s any updates! Ask if he has a prognosis yet, he practiced in his head. What came out, instead, was:

“So how long is this going to take?”

Dr. Bara looked startled by the question, whether it was from Gyro’s tone or the choice of words, but the old rodent tucked his hands against his chest and looked up at Gyro with his beady little eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Er, what I meant to say was, how much longer is this whole process going to take? You’ve already been at it for a week,” Gyro said, trying to phrase the question more gently.

“Oh, Dr. Gearloose, I understand that you want this to be over and done with,” Dr. Bara said in a conciliatory tone. “But Boyd’s problems are quite comprehensive. This isn’t something you fix in an afternoon by defragmenting a hard drive. It could take years to untangle all the individual triggers and correct them--”

“Years?!” As was often the case, Gyro felt the words leave him like an explosion, no consideration to what was said, just a rush of anger and whatever came to mind first. Usually the meanest thing he could think of. “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive? I know that these days seniors are forced to keep working well into their twilight years to make ends meet, but that doesn’t mean you should try and take advantage of your clients like this!”

“E-excuse me?” Dr. Bara said, and his shameless innocent act was really ruffling Gyro’s feathers.

“Oh, don’t ‘Excuse me’,” Gyro said sharply. “Maybe you can pull this kind of crap with brainless corporate drones who hire you to work for big companies without an ounce of understanding of what it is you do, but I am a scientist, and I can’t be bamboozled so easily!”

“Are you implying that I’m working slowly on purpose in order to inflate my consultant’s fee?” Dr. Bara asked, moustache bristling.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so glad to see you’ve caught up to the conversation. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m implying,” Gyro replied. “Did you really expect somebody to keep contracting you for two thousand a day over a period of years?”

“No, of course not!”

“Yes, of course you-- Wait, what?” Gyro came to a screeching halt. “You don’t? You didn’t?”

“Very few people would be willing to pay that kind of money to fix a buggy system,” Dr. Bara spoke in a quick, agitated manner. “A company like McDuck Enterprises might have deep enough pockets to afford it, but your higher-ups are unlikely to see the value of such work, and I’m sure they would reject the funding request. I was going to give you my assessment today, and offer to continue treating Boyd for free.”

Gyro felt his anger and frustration mixing with his embarrassment, congealing into a foul soup somewhere inside him. It left him feeling sick and bent out of shape and still just as angry. He hated being wrong, even when it was just something minor like this. How could he have known that Dr. Bara was some kind of goody-goody altruist? Most of the world wasn’t like that, and to expect such benevolence was both foolish and naive. Gyro was neither of those things.

“But then I jumped down your throat before you could get to it. Alright, I’ll concede that I was being a bit hasty,” Gyro said, pinching the bridge of his beak. “I should clarify the cause of my misplaced outrage. You’re under the impression that this is a McDuck Enterprises’ project. It’s not.” It was as close to an apology as Gyro was willing to get.

“I’m paying your consultant’s fee out of my own pocket,” Gyro explained. “And I can’t really afford to pay you for more than two or three weeks of work. I was sort of hoping we’d be able to resolve this expediently.”

“I wish you’d told me that sooner, we could have avoided this entire misunderstanding,” Dr. Bara said, “I would never have charged that much per day if I’d known! A big company like McDuck Enterprises can afford to pay people what they’re worth, but it’s different if it’s coming from a private individual. Moving forward I won’t charge anything if you’d like me to continue working with Boyd.”

“Why?” Gyro asked, a little bewildered that the old man hadn’t already left thanks to Gyro’s abrasive personality. He could understand someone putting up with that if they were getting paid to do it, but for free?

“Because I want to help Boyd,” Dr. Bara said with such tooth-ache inducing earnestness Gyro was forced to assume he was being sincere. “And his specific situation interests me.”

That rationale made more sense to Gyro. Intellectual curiosity motivated much of his own behavior, and he could imagine it being the same for other scientists.

“Fine,” Gyro said. “Anyway… Do you really think it’s going to take years to make 2BO properly functional again? You weren’t inflating your estimate?”

“Dr. Gearloose, I’d never do something like that,” Dr. Bara said with a hint of indignation. “I was being entirely frank with you. These problems might never be resolved at all. I think we can hope to see improvement, perhaps even a marked one, but the glitches will never go away entirely.”

This was not the answer Gyro wanted to hear. While it was good to know that Dr. Bara thought 2BO might improve, the prospect of having to deal with the android glitching for the rest of his life was deeply disappointing. Gyro did not like accepting failure, especially not failure of this magnitude.

“Maybe it would be for the best if we just reset 2BO, wiped its memory, and let it start over,” Gyro said. “That would have the added benefit of erasing the mistakes I made by adding that insipid ‘real boy’ program. 2BO could finally reach its full--”

“No! That’s a terrible idea!” Dr. Bara cried.

Normally Dr. Bara seemed quite timid and non-confrontational, so the sudden change was shocking to Gyro, especially when the rodent got into his personal space and started crowding him.

“You might be able to remove the glitches if you did a total wipe and replaced all of his chemical memory fluid, but doing that would destroy the person he is right now, forever! You’d kill Boyd!” Dr. Bara said.

“You can’t kill something that isn’t alive, Dr. Bara!” Gyro snapped. “2BO is a machine, 2BO isn’t alive, 2BO isn’t a person! It’s a clever machine that has been programmed to act like a human child, but that’s all it is: programming!”

“Are we all not just programming? Ours is accidental, formed by all the things we experience, created by the chaos that is organic life. Theirs is planned, orderly, but also grown through organic systems like encoding DNA and crystal nucleation and aggregation,” Dr. Bara said, staring Gyro in the eyes in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

“Flesh or metal, we’re all composed of electricity and chemicals,” Dr. Bara continued. “Are your emotions more valid than Boyd’s just because they’re triggered by hormones? How do you make the distinction? What scientific criteria do you use to determine the distinction? Boyd--”

“It’s name is 2BO, stop calling it Boyd!” Gyro shouted. The words left him in an angry gust that left him feeling hollowed out afterwards. He took a deep breath and a step away from Dr. Bara, uncomfortable with their closeness.

“...As I was saying, 2BO is a machine,” Gyro said. “I helped program it, I know what I built, and I know that it’s only operating within the parameters that I set down. It can’t be alive, it’s just… a very convincing simulation. So convincing that 2BO itself thinks it’s alive. So convincing that you think it’s alive.”

Dr. Bara didn’t look persuaded, and Gyro was frustrated by this sudden display of stubbornness. Why couldn’t the man continue to be easily cowed and deferential like before?

“I’ve been interviewing and testing Boyd all week, and I’m certain that you are wrong. I had my misgivings at first, of course. I wanted to be sure that I wasn’t dealing with a cleverly programmed mimic. I’ll give you a copy of all the data I’ve collected, and you can review it and see if you still believe that Boyd isn’t alive. You may have programmed and built a machine, but he’s been on his own for two decades, learning and growing. You built him to learn, didn’t you? He’s become more than what he started as. I’d bet my whole reputation on that.”

Gyro felt his feathers sticking up along his neck as his anger simmered. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine, fine, I’ll look over your data this weekend, and I’ll talk to 2BO about it and let you know how I want to proceed next week.”

“You shouldn’t mention that you were thinking of erasing his memory,” Dr. Bara said sternly. “Not even in passing. It could do irreparable harm to your relationship.”

“2BO, we need to talk,” Gyro said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 2BO looked up from the tablet he was reading and smiled.

“What is it, Dr. Gearloose?” 2BO asked.

“It’s about your glitching and about your treatment with Dr. Bara.”

“I like Dr. Bara,” 2BO said. “He really listens to me when I talk.”

“He’s a competent scientist, I suppose,” Gyro said, even though he wasn’t sure if he really believed that. He didn’t want to say anything negative about Dr. Bara now that 2BO had indicated that it liked the man.

“Yeah! He’s smart, and he’s nice to me, and he knows a lot about computer science--”

He can’t fix you, Gyro thought bitterly. No matter how nice he is, he can’t help you. How was he going to tell 2BO that?

“Sometimes he asks me really interesting questions about things I never thought about before--”

“Yeah?” Gyro said absently.

“And it was really fun when he asked me to do some drawings. He said they were good, even though I’ve never drawn anything--”

“2BO, Dr. Bara told me today that your glitching problem might be unfixable,” Gyro said, cutting the android off sharply. “He thinks we can make it better, but that there’s no way to truly repair the damage.”

“Oh,” 2BO said, enthusiasm vanishing instantly. “So… I’ll always be this way?”

You’ll always be broken, Gyro thought, and wondered if being broken would bother an intelligent machine or if being broken was something that only humans cared about.

“More or less. We do have another option though.”

“What’s that?” 2BO asked.

“We could reset you,” Gyro said. “Erase all of your memory and replace everything that can’t be fully erased. You could start over! You wouldn’t have to worry about glitching anymore or remembering things that… Upset you.”

2BO stared at Gyro and didn’t respond to what he had said at all. Gyro wasn’t even sure if Boyd had heard him.

“Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?” Gyro asked, trying to fill the silence and coax 2BO into responding and agreeing with him. “Wouldn’t that be better than having to worry about getting triggered and hurting someone?”

Boyd didn’t answer him.

“It would be better, right?” Gyro continued. “You could forget all about the things I taught you and the special programming I gave you, you could get rid of any other insidious hidden programs Dr. Akita left behind, you’d be… Safe, and you could move on and--”

“I wouldn’t know the things I know now,” 2BO said suddenly, interrupting Gyro’s rambling attempts to cajole him. “I wouldn’t remember Mr. Fenton, or Mr. Manny, or my friends in the Junior Woodchucks, or Doofus or Mr. and Mrs. Drake...I wouldn’t remember Huey. I’d forget everything about all of them.”

“You could make new memories!” Gyro said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Would that be so bad? You’ve only known most of those people for a couple of months!”

“I’ve known you longer than that,” 2BO said. “I’d forget you.”

“We can start over too,” Gyro said. “We could become friends again!”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” 2BO said, getting to its feet, retrieving its tablet from the floor, and walking away. “You’re different now.”

“2BO, where are you going?” Gyro demanded, unnerved and unsettled by the shift from 2BO’s usual childish demeanor to something that seemed flat and emotionless in comparison.

“To my closet,” 2BO replied. “Goodnight, Dr. Gearloose.”

“Uh...Goodnight,” Gyro said, suddenly unsure if he’d be able to sleep at all now.

NEXT CHAPTER: THIS CONVERSATION CAN SERVE NO FURTHER PURPOSE, GOODBYE! Summary: Gyro searches all over Duckburg and can’t find Boyd anywhere. After exhausting all other options Gyro contacts Dr. Bara and explains that he did the one thing Dr. Bara told him not to do: tell Boyd that he wanted to erase the robot’s memory. Boyd enjoys a sunset.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #gyro gearloose #b.o.y.d.#fenton crackshell cabrera #my art #fanfic #the first law of robotics

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contactingcashapp · 4 years ago

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Cash App Login in the easiest and the most convenient way

Cash App is the least difficult approach to send and get cash straightforwardly on your versatile without running out for money. This is the explanation Cash App has become the most famous installment application among individuals in the United States.

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Let us initially talk about how to sign in to your Cash App account on your versatile. So as to sign in to your Cash App account, you have to follow the beneath referenced advances:

· Download the Cash App in the event that you don’t have it on your portable. At that point open the application to begin.

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After effectively confirming your record, you can get to your Cash App.

In the event that you request that how sign in to Cash App with another telephone number then you have to initially enlist yourself by tapping on the “Join” or “Register” tab rather than the “Sign in” tab.

At that point follow the means as provoked.

The most effective method to Log in to Cash App Without Phone Number

Numerous individuals change their telephone number and because of this, they think that its hard to sign in to their Cash App account. Be that as it may, you need not stress any longer we have an answer for your concern. Regardless of whether you don’t approach your enrolled telephone number on Cash App, you can even now sign in to your record by following the means given underneath:

1. To get to your Cash App account without a telephone number, you have to peruse the official site of Cash App

2. At that point enter the enrolled email id in the case gave.

3. You will get a check code on your enrolled email.

4. Enter the code in the necessary field.

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6. In the event that you despite everything have any Cash App Log-In Error, at that point click on the “Help” to discover different alternatives accessible.

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How to activate your new Cash Card - Cash App

Cash Out Failed: How to fix Cash out in Cash App issues?

Why Does Cash App Gets Failed for my protection?

Cash App Direct Deposit | Benefits, Pending, Time and How to Set-up

How to Check Cash App Card Balance? (Cash App Balance)

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#Cash app Login #cash app login online #login to cash app #cash app online login #cash app login without phone number #cash app account login

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elopez7228 · 5 years ago

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Scenic Route 32/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Leia was slow to respond to the incoming phone call. She had spent many restless nights as the day of the hearing drew closer, and tonight had been no exception. She had only recently been able to slip into a dark and troubled sleep.

She knew she had to be strong for her people, keep her head held high. She had no right to back out now. It was her job to keep morale high and to assure the others that it would all work out—though that also meant that the number of people she could confide in had dwindled. She had spent many nights consumed by her own thoughts and fears.

Her phone rang five times before going silent.

This was her personal device, no one—well, practically no one—had access to that number. It happened infrequently enough that it was enough to rouse her despite her tiredness.

The clock on the screen read 5 AM. She had barely managed two hours of sleep. But the fact that someone had called her at such an ungodly hour using this number meant that it was important. She took a moment to collect herself and rub the sleep out of her eyes before calling back.

“Skywalker.”

“Leia, it’s Kaydel, I’m sorry for calling you so early but there was an email sent to the organization’s public address and I think you really need to see it, now.”

“An email?” Leia repeated somewhat incredulously.

“Yes, I’ll stay on the line while you read it. I’m ready for any follow-up orders.” Kaydel responded shakily.

Leia frowned. If there was something wrong with the trial documents, they knew to call Amilyn and the legal team. If something had happened to Luke, he had this number himself. What the hell was it about an email of all things that had the girl scared to death?

Putting Kaydel on speaker phone, she opened up her inbox and scrolled through the most recent messages. The public account usually only received spam and donation-related emails. What on earth was going on?

from : [email protected]

To : [email protected]

07/08/2018 : 4:46 AM

Subject : BB8

Hi Leia,

Looks like you left me a wrong number, I’m sure it was an accident! I didn’t know how else to reach you so I hope you see this...

It’s going well so far, Wyoming is magnificent.

I ran into your son Ben, he was performing at a local concert. What a small world! He offered to take BB8 to his uncle by himself.

I’m thinking it would be a great idea for BB8 to stay in the family. Would you have a problem with that? Let me know,

Cheers!

Rey

0044 (0) 7881 235 562

Leia’s gasp turned into a coughing fit so violent that she had to put the phone down. Leaning over her nightstand, she groped for the water bottle that she kept there.

“Leia? Are you okay?” Though muffled, Kaydel’s voice sounded worried.

Leia took a long sip of water, trying to calm her breathing as she wiped away a few tears that had been brought on by her sudden reaction. The phone was back in hand immediately.

“Thank you for the warning, Kay. No new orders. I’m going to handle this one myself. I’ve deleted the message, and not a word to anyone about this for now, am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

Once the conversation was over, Leia allowed her legs to give in. She slumped onto the bed, hands trembling.

She hadn’t seen it coming.

Posing as her son Ben Solo to get Rey to hand over the dog? It was, ironically, a perfect ruse.

The boy never ceased to amaze her. She underestimated him at every turn. Every time she took him for a fumbling idiot, he thoroughly managed to turn the tables on her. Well, he was her son after all. She supposed she should be proud.

Time was running out. She had to reach Rey before it was too late.

But there was no room for error here, the stakes were too high. She could ruin it all with the wrong words, with the wrong reaction.

Leia jotted down Rey’s number before deleting the email. She also made sure to delete it from her “trash” folder. Next, she went to the bathroom, taking longer than usual to braid and pin her long grey hair. It gave her time to collect her thoughts again. She took the time to dress carefully, make herself a cup of coffee, and sit down at the kitchen table in front of the telephone.

Rey couldn’t sleep after the events of that morning. She decided instead to get dressed for the day and busy herself with taking down the tent and gathering the rest of her scattered possessions. She felt a pang of longing mixed with desire as she picked up the clothes that had been strewn on the ground. She couldn’t help but remember the way that Ben had made love to her, right on top of the Falcon. It wasn’t that long ago but it felt like a world away.

She replayed the scene of his betrayal over and over in her head as she folded her clothes and packed up the car. She fumed at the thought that he had still sought to manipulate her.

Rey wondered what to do next. Go sightseeing again? Somehow she didn’t feel up to it anymore. Drive straight to California? That would mean saying goodbye to her itinerary.

Curse Leia Skywalker for dragging her into a conflict that was none of her business...Now she had come within an inch of her life multiple times—she would absolutely love to nominate Syed Ren for a Nobel Peace Prize—and now her holiday plans were ruined.

Turning on her phone for the first time since last night (battery conservation 101), she saw the voicemail icon flashing with a new message notification.

Her heart constricted in her chest because she knew exactly who it would be. Her thumb slid over the icon to open the application anyway. Ben Solo. Should she erase it? Should she bother to listen to it at all, did he even deserve that?

The temptation to hit “delete” was undeniable, but her curiosity won out. Her heart hammered as she pressed “play”.

She could feel her features crumbling as she listened to his words. It took her a second to process the new information.

His attempt at an apology was dramatic self-flagellation as usual. Blah-blah-nail-me-to-a-cross-my-love and all that. She really didn’t have time for this nonsense, he shouldn’t be the one whining here.

But the part about running to the police because “two killers were on her trail” was enough to justify not deleting the message.

Ben fucking Solo had some explaining to do, considering that literally all of his Saturday night bar mates were some kind of new wave punk assassins.

She was in the middle of feeding BB8 when an epiphany occurred. Scrambling for her phone, she typed out a very important email. By the time she hit “send” it was 6 AM (or 5 AM in California, she supposed).

She was hardly surprised when she received a response within fifteen minutes. When her phone buzzed the caller ID was unknown, but she knew it was Leia Skywalker. Rey took a deep breath. She knew that by sending that email she had turned the tables on them. Now, it was her turn.

“Yes, hello?”

“Hello, Rey? It’s Leia Skywalker. I’m sorry for calling you so early in the day but I figured since you emailed me you must be awake.”

Rey feigned surprise.

“Oh, hello Leia! I didn’t even recognize your number...lovely weather in Denver I hope?”

“In Den—oh yes, the weather here is fine,” Leia responded, seemingly shaken by the unexpected question. “Rey, how is BB8 doing, is she okay?”

“BB8? Of course! She’s been such a great road trip companion, she’s so cute and we’ve gotten so used to each other.”

“Is she...with you?”

Rey blinked. When was Leia going to stop pretending?

“Yeah, for now. I’m dropping her off with Ben this afternoon, actually. He said he was going to San Francisco to visit his uncle anyway and I guess I couldn’t possibly refuse him,” she replied as innocently as she could.

On the other side, Leia sounded like she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Rey, no, I think this isn’t a good idea...I would rather have her stay with you.”

“Why.”

It came out harsher than anticipated. Rey found herself unable to smile any longer.

Leia was silent for a moment, sensing the change of tone. She must have known she was missing something because she sighed ruefully.

“Rey, tell me the truth, where is BB8?”

“No Leia, you’re the one who has to tell me the truth. Why did you suddenly change your number?”

Straight to the point. Leia hesitated.

“To protect you.”

“Protect me from what, your own deceptions?”

“It’s a long story, Rey. But you have to keep BB8 with you, every step of the way. Don’t let Ben near her.”

“Oh believe me, Madam Skywalker, I have all the time in the world. In fact, I think I could really use a long story, given that my normal life has been upended by the godforsaken, murderous “Knights of Ren”. Thank you for that, by the way. This is not how I wanted to spend my time, so I really think you owe me an explanation.”

The older woman sighed again. Rey was right. In her blind panic to strike FORCE as quickly as possible, she had forgotten the human factors involved. She had put this innocent girl in danger.

She was clearly resourceful and capable, but she was innocent all the same. She deserved the truth.

Ever so carefully, Leia began her story. Starting with her parents’ company, the betrayal of her mother by her father, his fall from corporate grace, and then the massive culture shift under Snoke’s leadership. As the new director, Snoke had sold shares of the family business to their competitors through fraudulent financial schemes, gaining enough political influence to become the president of the board. Then he came for Luke and Leia, who had been attempting to independently audit his financial gains.

Finally, he was able to turn Leia’s own son, Ben, against her. He offered him everything she never could: money, power, and a prestigious title.

Rey paid close attention. The backstory gave her a lot of context for what she had already known from her web searches. But it still didn’t answer her biggest question.

“Leia, where do I fit into all of this?”

Rey, Leia admitted, was a Golden Opportunity (trademark pending)...truly one in a million, too good to pass up, really. In the Leia’s line of work, one had to make decisions rapidly—often in high-stakes strategic situations with difficult choices and volatile conditions. The situation could devolve at any given moment.

How could Earth Soldiers get the micro-SD, that contained all of the evidence of FORCE’s illegal insider trading under Snoke and Hux, to San Francisco without triggering a defensive strike? Leia’s solution was to use a clean hand. Who better than someone who was going on a haphazard road trip across the country with no agenda and no political motives or alliances whatsoever? Rey was the perfect messenger.

What Leia hadn’t counted on was Ben’s intervention. He crashed through the plan like a bull in a china shop. Brash, but incredibly effective. Underestimating her son always had proven to be her fatal flaw.

Rey took the time to absorb it all. On it’s face, Leia’s strategy was questionable, but not impossible.

“You should have told me all this at the very beginning.”

“If I had, would you have taken the job?”

“Probably not. But that’s not the point! You had no right to put my life in danger over a personal conflict. Especially without my knowledge. What am I to you? Just collateral damage?”

On the other side, Leia’s shoulders slumped. She couldn’t respond. She had made some questionable decisions in her lifelong conflict against FORCE, and it wore her down on some days. Sometimes she was too quick, too rash for her own good. She thought back to her days in the army, how she had always been surrounded by comrades-in-arms who strived for the same mission. But real life wasn’t like that.

Rey didn’t need to hear that, probably didn’t want to hear it either.

“You’re my only hope,” Leia said simply. “And if the Knights of Ren are after you I can send someone to escort you.”

This would alert all of FORCE’s allies, they would all target the Millenium Falcon at once. But Rey didn’t deserve to be sacrificed for a cause that wasn’t her own.

“Luckily, I’m not done here. I think I still have a card to play. Can I call you at this number—or are you going to disappear again?”

“You can keep it, as long as you memorize it. Please, I don’t want to be traced.”

“Understood. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Rey hung up. The very next person she called was Ben Solo.

#reylo #fanfiction #Scenic Route #Modern AU

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argentdandelion · 6 years ago

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Juni Cortez is a Callous Little Fool

Author Patreon - Author Ko-Fi

In Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over, Juni Cortez, retired kid superspy, learns his sister Carmen is held captive by the Toymaker, an evil ex-operative banished to cyberspace. To save Carmen and stop the Toymaker’s schemes, he enters the Toymaker’s game, the mega-popular virtual-reality video game Game Over.

When Juni enters the game, he meets three beta testers: cool guy Rez, smart guy Francis, and tough, strong guy Arnold, who eventually choose to help him upon believing he’s “The Guy”, a figure who can help them reach the supposedly unwinnable final level of the game. Later on, the OSS, a superspy agency, offers to send in one person to help him. Juni chooses his grandpa (Valentin), once a superspy himself who had been paraplegic and wheelchair-bound for 30 years. The recurring opponent Demetra later joins their group, evasively offering her “intuition” along with the others’ brains, coolness, and strength.

But when he meets Rez, Francis, and Arnold in the “real world” near the end of the film, they don’t look as they do in the game. To this, Juni looks at them scornfully and says, "Reality check.”

Juni Cortez is a callous little fool.

Evidence

Very soon after Valentin enters the game, he gets a power-up, “Mega Legs”, which not only restores his long-lost ability to walk, but gives him incredible jumping ability and a shiny, armor-covered superheroic physique. Valentin’s great strength and mobility prove very handy for Juni and the group, and Juni turns to him for advice multiple times.

Near the end of the game, Valentin is reluctant to leave for the real world. In Game Over, he can walk and run, and Juni looks at him like he's "some kind of super hero", but in the real world, he'll be confined to a wheelchair. He agrees to go back in Juni promises him he'll look at Valentin no differently than in the game, for, even though he'll be in a wheelchair, on the inside Valentin feels like "this" (presumably a superheroic figure).

Section 2: Programmers

One level, the group knows some programmers are around; Francis describes them as "the braniacs who wrote the book for the game". As they’ll bounce them back to Level 1 to catch them as a consequence of earlier cheating, the group scatters to avoid them. However, they find Juni after he and Demetra consult a forbidden map of the whole game. The programmers menacingly taunt Juni, instantly making him lose one of his lives as they taunt him. Scared, Juni calls out for his grandpa:

Programmers: "Listen to that, E-Dawg. 'The Guy' is calling his grandpa.[Sarcastically] I'm so scared." "What's he gonna do? Drool on us?" (Valentin dramatically steps in from behind and picks them up by the scruffs of their necks) Valentin: "You are programmers? Let's see what you really look like."

Francis scans them to reveal their real appearances, showing 1980s-Microsoft-employee-style dorks. Valentin deems them "very unimpressive" and Rez snarkily calls them "computer nerds".1

Section 3: Demetra

Demetra was Juni’s opponent in a robot arena, and later tried to stop him, twice, in the Mega Race. (i.e., the world’s most intense game of Virtual Reality Mario Kart) Later, she joins the group, offering her “intuition”. When one of the game’s challenges pit Juni and Arnold against each other for the group to progress, with the loser being removed from the game, Juni fares poorly. Demetra swaps herself with Juni, sacrificing herself so Juni can go rescue his sister.

The beta testers try to “kill” (make him lose all his game lives) Juni and his sister, out of the belief Juni is “The Deceiver”, a figure in the game who tricks players and keeps them from getting to Level 5 and its “untold riches”. When they change their minds and enter Level 5, Demetra soon re-appears. Carmen confidently states Demetra isn’t real, slicing through her to expose her as just a hologram. She’s the Deceiver, an AI whose purpose was to hinder them. Juni doesn’t share Carmen’s scorn. It turns out Demetra had developed a crush on Juni, and helps them all to escape as the Toymaker tries to trap them in the game.

Juni Cortez Neglecting the Evidence

In the real world, the spy agency tracks down Rez, Francis, and Arnold from their email addresses and brings them in front of Juni. Juni still looks pretty cool as pudgy-faced preteens go, but, shockingly, the beta testers look nothing like they do in real life. Francis has no glasses and has a biker jacket, Rez looks like a 1980s Microsoft-employee-style dork, and Arnold has glasses.

Juni: “What happened to Francis the Brain, Arnold the Strong, and Mr. Cool?” Francis: “Well, in the real world, I'm not that smart.” Arnold: “I'm not strong." Rez: “I’m not cool.”

To this, Juni just looks at them with an expression that morphs from shock, to bafflement, and then scorn, and dissmissively says: "Reality check." (When his grandpa is within earshot, no less)

One might want to cut Juni some slack; he's 12, at most. Yet, Juni Cortez says this even though he’s seen Francis being smart (reading through the tech manual and reporting on it), Arnold being strong (catapulting another player out of a car, attacking him, being acknowledged as the “strongest player”) and Rez being cool. (being unflappable and leading the other two) Worse, he says this despite knowing Demetra was more than her programming...and despite just having promised his grandpa he would look at him no differently in the real world even when confined to a wheelchair.

Admittedly, they did try to “kill” (in a video game sense) him and Carmen before reaching Level 5, out of the belief Juni was The Deceiver. They were also initially unfriendly to him, telling him to get to the next level in a way that was effective but made him lose a life, and only agreed to follow him and help him upon proving he was “The Guy” in the very dangerous Mega Race. On the other hand, the previous film shows he already holds his grandpa in high regard, and though Demetra was twice his opponent, her actions weren’t any worse than someone showing off skill in a competitive video game. (e.g., Mario Kart or Street Fighter)

Valentin’s reluctance to leave Game Over parallels that of a real person: Ibelin Redmoore. (or, rather, Mats Steen).2 Mats Steen had Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a fatal genetic disorder that rendered him slumping, atrophied, and wheelchair-bound, a la the physicist Stephen Hawking. He found solace in the massively multi-player game World of Warcraft, where everyone saw him as his avatar/alter-ego, the handsome detective nobleman Ibelin Redmoore.

A friend of his in World of Warcraft, Kai Simon, said at his funeral:

"I met Mats in a world where it doesn't matter a bit who you are, what kind of body you have, or how you look in reality, behind the keyboard.”

Had Juni known Ibelin Redmoore...what would he have said?

(Trivia: Originally, I was going to write something about Spy Kids 3D, appropos of nothing, as an April Fool's Day joke earlier this year. This is just the rewritten version of the nearly-complete joke update.)

Which, in retrospect, is a ridiculous thing to say. He and the others love video games so much they're beta testers for a new virtual-reality video game in 2003, before video games were as "mainstream" and respected as they are now. Indeed, one could call Francis a nerd for his brainy mannerisms and glasses. Though...knowing Rez looks similar to one of the programmers in real life, perhaps he says this out of self-hating insecurity? ↩︎

Source: The BBC. ↩︎

#Analysis #Film Analysis #Spy Kids #Juni Cortez #Spy Kids 3-D

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lady-harrowhark · 6 years ago

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A Spoonful of Sugar

Happy Royai Day everyone! A special update in honor of the occasion! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and sending such kind comments and reviews. I’m still baffled and thrilled that people enjoy and are excited for my little daydream world! Summary: Since her father’s death several years ago, Riza has dedicated herself to keeping Hawkeye Bakery afloat. When Roy Mustang opens a coffee shop next door, Riza finds herself getting more than just a caffeine fix. They’ve got their hands full managing custom cupcake orders, exploding espresso machines, and eccentric employees, but this new partnership just might be the best thing that’s ever happened to either of them.

Chapter Three: Vanilla Latte

Word count: 2691

first chapter | read on ao3

“They want to have it when?” Riza asked incredulously.

“Tuesday morning,” Olivier said without a single trace of apology in her voice. “I’ve let them know what an awful inconvenience this is for you,” she drawled sarcastically. “And money’s no object here. You can charge whatever you want. Tasting fee, appointment fee, short notice fee, booking deposit.” Riza could almost see Olivier waving her hand dismissively on the other end of the line. “You would not believe the budget we’re working with.” I definitely would, Riza thought to herself, knowing the kind of clientele Olivier had cultivated.

Riza thumbed through her planner, pages thin and crinkled, finally landing on the upcoming week. “I literally cannot do before eleven if they want a full tasting.” She tucked the phone against her shoulder and pulled down a worn binder from the shelf. She flipped through the pages, each with a different cake recipe. “What are you thinking?”

“Bride says she wants something exotic but will end up going with almond. Tell her it’s “French Amaretto” or something and she’ll be completely on board. Do a couple of more out-there flavors to satisfy her and then your regular wedding selection.”

“Have you discussed decorations?”

Olivier scoffed. “Have I discussed it with the bride? No, but I drew up a diagram of what we’re doing and it’s in your email already.”

Riza shook her head, still amazed after all these years at how Olivier’s imperious demeanor hadn’t landed her in hot water yet. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her no-nonsense attitude and uncompromising nature ensured her weddings were always the height of taste and class, and her services were in high demand. And with that demand, came a steep price tag. “I’ll look at it in a few hours. Will I need anything unusual for it?

“No, florist is doing most of it. Not your problem.”

“That is my favorite design.” Riza pulled a sheet of paper from the tray of a printer perched precariously atop the bookshelf that served as the bakery’s “office.” Binders and folders of various paperwork filled the shelves, and a file cabinet with tax and employee information sat next to it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was a system that worked. She shifted a few papers, looking for a pen. Snagging one from beneath a stack of delivery receipts, she started jotting down a few flavor ideas. “Any flavors completely off the table?”

“No lemon. It’s ‘common.’” Riza quickly scratched out ‘lemon lavender.’ Nevermind.

There was a muffled shout in the background, and Olivier made a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. “I’ve got to go, but just as a heads up, the groom’s mother will be accompanying them. Expect a bloodbath.”

The line went dead. Riza stared at the handset for a moment before returning it to the cradle. She’d figure out what that meant later.

With several events happening in town that weekend, the store had been exceptionally busy, and customers had been exceptionally cranky. It was barely early afternoon and Riza was already concerned at their dwindling supply of baked goods. That is, when she had a moment to think about it, between constantly refilling the displays and switching out batches from the oven. She’d enlisted Jean’s help to crank out some more single-serve products - muffins, cupcakes, cookies - while Falman continued to prep for the next day. Seeing the register total climb higher and higher each hour was a temporary balm for her nerves, though that was rather cancelled out by the frenetic pace of the day. It would be a long day, and so would the next, now that she had to prepare a custom tasting for Olivier’s couple (and the soon-to-be mother-in-law).

Out front, Sciezka had been running herself ragged, serving customers, manning the register, cleaning tables. Busy days were especially hard on the young woman, a natural introvert who, given the choice, would prefer to spend her weekends at her university’s library rather than working food service to afford her student loan payments. They had made it through the post-lunch rush, and color was high in Sciezka’s cheeks, her normally messy hair in even more disarray than usual. But for the moment, the shop was blissfully empty.

Riza grabbed a rag and began wiping down the front counter. “Why don’t you go take your lunch, Sciezka? I’ll handle any customers for now.”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you.” Sciezka was already untying her apron, hurrying towards the back room. She scooped a creased paperback and a granola bar out of her backpack and jogged outside to one of the two small cafe tables. Riza was always fascinated to see how quickly the girl could lose herself in a book - she wished she could switch gears like that, although part of her suspected that Sciezka never fully disengaged from her fictional worlds either.

Riza got to work swiftly cleaning down the countertops, refilling napkin dispensers, and sweeping crumbs from beneath the tables. After a morning spent making messes in the kitchen, there was something satisfying about cleaning them in the front.

Just then, a clatter rang out from the kitchen. Riza squeezed her eyes shut, imagining all the different catastrophes that could have made that sound. “What was that?” she called.

Jean’s disembodied voice responded. “I’m going to clean it up!”

She sighed. “That’s not what I asked.”

Jean strode into view, his broad chest blocking the doorway to the kitchen. “I know. But I figured you’d like that better than the real answer.” He braced his hands against the doorframe, barring her from peering around him. Riza cocked her head, her mouth a firm line as she fixed her eyes on his. He winced. “Fine, it was the cupcake tins, and yes, it went everywhere. BUT one tray survived and they’re going in the oven before I can destroy them AND I was just about to mop anyway. So it’s fine, actually, and you should just stay out here until I’m done mopping.”

Riza eyed the mess splattered across the bottom of his apron and remembered the four trays of yellow cupcake batter she’d left on the table for when the current batch came out of the oven. “For everyone’s sake,” she said levelly, “I am not going back there right now, but I will when Sciezka gets off her break, and at that point the floor will be spotless.”

Jean nodded solemnly before backing around the corner. Riza heard water running in the mop sink and the squeak of the plastic mop bucket wheels. I need a drink, she thought, then stopped herself. Things weren’t that bleak. Maybe just a cupcake when they’re ready, she amended. She pushed a hand back through her short hair and inhaled deeply, eyes closed. She exhaled and reached for the broom again.

A moment later, the phone rang. Riza glanced at the caller ID, praying she wouldn’t see Olivier’s number twice in the same day. Relieved to see a number she didn’t recognize, she answered.

“Hawkeye Bakery, this is Riza. How may I help you?”

“Oh good, Riza. Hi.” Despite having spoken to him only twice before, Riza recognized his voice. “This is Roy from next door.”

“I know.” Riza cringed, aware of how that must sound. She didn’t normally blurt things out like that.

Roy chuckled on the other end. “Did it come up on caller ID?”

“No,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “I just recognized your voice.” She leaned her hip against the counter, gazing out the window towards the street outside. Sciezka was still reading at the table, and the shadows were just beginning to lengthen.

“Oh.” He sounded somewhat bemused. “The reason I called was that we’ve got our equipment up and running and most of our stock in, and I’m hitting kind of an afternoon slump. I thought you might be too. What’s your drink?”

She definitely was hitting an afternoon slump, but she wasn’t sure how to answer him. “My drink?”

“Yeah. Like, what do you order when you get a coffee?”

Riza glanced at the coffeemaker on the back counter, which had just an inch or two of coffee left in the decaf pot. “Well… when I make coffee for myself here, I take it with milk and sugar. I don’t really order coffee anywhere else.”

“Hmm, okay. Tell you what, I can bring you just a coffee with milk and sugar, or I can take my best guess and make you something else, and if you don’t like it, I’ll try again tomorrow. What do you think?”

“You don’t have to make anything fancy for me, really.” Riza imagined Roy analyzing her, attempting to craft the perfect beverage using some mystical barista divination. The thought was endearing but made her feel incredibly self-conscious for reasons she couldn’t quite name.

“First of all, making fancy coffee is literally my job.” Riza laughed. She did have to concede that point. “And second of all, I owe you for all the pastries and things you brought over the other day. So if it’s okay with you, I’ll be over in a few minutes, hopefully with something you don’t hate.”

Outside, Riza could see Sciezka closing her book. As soon as she got off the phone, she was going to have to make good on her ultimatum about the backroom floor.

Reluctantly, she responded. “It is okay with me, but really, don’t feel obligated.”

The satisfaction was evident in his voice. “I’ll be over in a few!”

Riza was attempting to diffuse an irate older woman when Roy slipped in the door.

“I don’t want cupcakes,” the woman said slowly, as if Riza were having trouble understanding her. “I need a full size cake for a birthday. Is there another bakery nearby that DOES carry cakes?”

Riza shook her head. “The only other bakeries I know of close early on Sundays. The supermarket bakery section would have some though.”

“I don’t like cake from the grocer’s. If I wanted that I would have gone there already.” The expression on the woman’s face clearly showed that she thought she was being extremely patient with a ridiculous situation. Sciezka stood just a step behind Riza, watching with saucer eyes.

“I’m sorry ma’am. If you’d like to place an order for the morning, I can give you a discount, but I won’t be able to have a cake ready for you today.” Riza’s lips pressed together tightly, signaling the end of the discussion.

The woman slung her handbag over her shoulder and leaned in towards the counter. “This is not the kind of support I expect from local businesses. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my family.” She turned on her heel and hustled out the door.

Riza pursed her lips, watching as the door swung shut. “Happy Sunday, everyone.” She reached out, touching Sciezka’s arm lightly. “If she comes back, I’ll take care of her. I don’t want you to have to deal with that again.”

Catching Riza’s eye, Roy lifted the mug in his hand. “Looks like you could use this.”

“I really, really could. Thank you.”

After brokering introductions between Roy and Sciezka, Riza gestured for Roy to follow her into the back. Jean leaned back from the sink at the other end of the room long enough to nod a greeting before returning to rinsing dishes, and Vato called both a greeting to Roy and a goodbye to Riza as he left for the day.

Roy’s gaze wandered around the kitchen. Space was at a premium, but at this point in the day, everything was mostly clean, and the floors were indeed spotless. “Are you guys open for much longer?”

She shook her head. “Just until four thirty. I don’t normally stay ‘til close on Sundays but we’ve been so busy…”

“Hopefully this helps a little.” He held out his offering: a wide, heavy mug on a saucer. It was filled with something creamier than her usual coffee, and topped with a swirl of foam reminiscent of something floral.

Riza took the mug and lifted it towards her, inhaling the scent. “What is it?” she asked.

“Just a vanilla latte.”

She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, scrutinizing her reaction, as she took the first sip, pausing a moment to appreciate the flavor. “It’s really good.” She took another sip.

“I figure it’s a good starting point until you figure out what you really like.”

“I think I like it just like this.” She smiled and lifted the cup to her lips again as if to prove her point.

“You flatter me. You can check out the full menu next time you’re over.” Riza was surprised to find how good it felt for him to assume there would be a next time. Despite the newness of their acquaintance, there was an easy rhythm between them, a casualness that she so rarely felt with others, and rarer still so quickly. “How long have you had this place?”

Riza made a vague hand gesture. “Technically about seven years. But I’ve always worked here. My father started it so I grew up here, and when he died, it became mine.”

She knew it was coming before he said it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize about your father.”

A small smile flickered across Riza’s face, more in acknowledgement of his obligatory condolences than anything else. “Thank you, but it’s been a long time now. This was place was everything to him.” Sometimes she felt him here more than she would admit, could sense his disapproval at sloppy kneading and overbaked loaves, his pride in the structure of a perfect croissant. And other days, like today, he didn’t even cross her mind. Those days felt good and bad all at once, and Riza wasn’t sure how much she wanted to prod that particular hornet’s nest today. “Hawkeye Bakery’s been around longer than I have, that’s for sure. Almost thirty years now.”

Roy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Thirty years? That’s incredible. I can’t even imagine how much you guys have put into this place.”

He probably can’t, Riza thought. She grew up in this very store, standing on overturned crates to see over the table, working before and after school when she was old enough. “But what about you? Have you always been a… coffee person?” She sipped from her mug, an eyebrow raised at him.

“Yes and no… I grew up a few towns over, came here for college and worked in a coffee shop the whole time for beer money. Poli-sci, thought I was going to go to law school. And I did, for a year. And I hated it and spent every second wishing I was back in that casual little shop, making coffee and hanging out with our regulars. So I left. Spent a couple of years working my way up into management at another place and I finally decided I’d rather be my own boss and start my own place. So here I am.”

From law school to food service. She’s sure he’s heard it all about that particular choice, so she doesn’t ask. “Here you are,” she repeated.

He shrugged. “I don’t usually tell people I’m a law school dropout. They’ve always got something to say about it, but,” he gestured around them at their current surroundings, “I figured you’d get it. I’m sure you could be doing anything, if you wanted, and here you are as well.”

Riza looked down at the cup in her hands, rotating it slowly. “Now it’s my turn to be flattered. This is all I’ve ever known.” And besides, she thought, the time for that had passed long ago.

Looking back up at Roy’s easy grin, though, the tension she’d been holding from this hectic day was starting to drain away. The looming thought of staying until closing didn’t seem so daunting. Today was just another day in the bakery, just like the years and years before it, but somehow, with his arrival, it didn’t feel like the days she’d always known.

It all felt brand new.

Notes: I’ve been asked to start a taglist by @heavymetalhauswife :) If you are interested in being added to the taglist, please message me. You can also follow on ao3 (linked above) to receive email alerts when i post new content. Also, I’ve been posting here and on ao3, but do many of you use ff? If so, I can look into starting to post there as well, but I figured I’d ask before I added another step. Let me know!

#royaiweek19 #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai #royai ASoS #fanfiction #my writing

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sp-ud · 3 years ago

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Me in my senior year when I was suddenly told I wasn't allowed to sit in one of the commons area during what is best compared to a "homeroom" period at the end of the day, and if I was going to remain at school despite not having classes or a homeroom I had to go to the office to get a homeroom assigned,

After already having to change my routine just a few days before because they closed the library as they worked on implementing an ID reader at the door because too many students were using it to skip and fights were literally happening in the library

which I couldn't even return to once the system was in place as I never got an ID because I registered online and they never announced how online registered students could get an ID (I did get one before the end of the year though. Just so I could sit in there again)

So then I had to walk up to the guidance counselors office, be told my counselor wasn't in today. But this was easy enough I could just send him an email, get his automated(?) Reply that he wasn't in today. Sit there panicking even more before one of the other counselors said she could also do it.

Then go sit awkwardly in the homeroom, having walked in randomly in the middle of it (luckily it was a teacher I knew on a friendlier level than some of the other ones)

And once homeroom is over, I'm too scared to sit back down in the commons area (there's one more period of the day. BTW the reason I couldn't just leave after my last class is because I don't have a license. And even if I did, I wouldn't have a car, and even if I wasn't disabled, my house is far enough away that a bus comes for a reason) because I didn't want the same guy to see me again that I just kept walking till I was just outside.

BTW during this entire time I'm constantly shaking and silently crying and shit. If u were wondering, wearing a mask while having a runny nose and crying is gross) no one said anything and I'm not sure if I was actually that good at hiding it, or if they could tell I didn't want anyone to acknowledge it.

Anyways. I'm standing outside, its cold, and I still have an hour til the bus. So I end up texting my dad for him to pick me up. He arrives just a bit before.the bus, so.im standing out there in the cold for just.a bit under an hour. But I figure.its still worth it becahse after the last 2 hours I've had I'd rather not deal with a school bus.

I didn't realize how much this still annoyed me til I started typing my reply to crumb and realized I'm feeling an anxious... burn? In my chest and I wanted to see of typing it out would help (it didn't make it worse but it's certainly not better) and I'm also realizing I've really been slacking on consistently taking my anxiety meds the last week or so.

#vent #long post

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sergeantjbuckybarnes · 7 years ago

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ALL THE STARS chapter 2: welcome to Wakanda

STEVE X READER X BUCKY

Story: After the events of Civil War, the rogue avengers are in hiding in Wakanda, fearful for their lives. Bucky had been taken out of cyrostasis and will be given the treatment to undo the brain-damage received by HYDRA. All Steve wants is to see Bucky better, the guilt of his actions taken over him.

You, are the psychiatrist that takes on Bucky’s case, recommended under T’Challa.

Taglist : @loki7ms , @hista-girl , @mashed-fandom-imagines

Warning: 18+ themes present in the story

TAGS: #allthestarsfanfiction

Next Update: March, 17 2018

Your name: submit What is this?

On paper, Bucky's treatment was perfect.

All y/n had to do, was make sure Bucky and Steve had the resources and coping skills to deal with their past drama.

But in reality, the drama extended from just past. It was woven to the present and possibility the future.

That's not something that's easily talked about.

For the next couple hours, the four went back on different treatment options, and it was only when Dr. L/n mentioned that maybe doing both separately and together sessions could help.

From there, T'Challa decided to have the two men house with y/n, as she would be able to give them 24/7 therapy, should there be a need for it. They arranged for Bucky and Steve would start as soon as the next day, after Bucky had physical therapy for his arm.

The meeting ended there, and y/n gave her goodbyes to all three, having to rush and have a meeting with another client.

Steve and Bucky... It's nice to meet you.

" How do you like Dr. l/ n? "

Steve and Bucky had left the lab, having gone back to the guest bedroom they had been provided with. Steve and Bucky were on the bed, legs tangled as the two cuddled together. After Bucky first woken up from the cryostasis chamber, he had been hesitant to touch Steve at all but had warmed back up to touching again.

"I like her, she's nice."

Steve hummed, rubbing his fingers across Bucky's arms. Bucky pushed their hands together, holding Steve's hand as if it was the most precious thing he's ever held.

The two stayed inside the room, more into their own world than anything else.

To each other, life was just a bit better when they're together.

When Y/N was able to get back her apartment, she wasn't tired at all, so she took the time to really deep clean the apartment.

It wasn't necessarily dirty at all, but with two new houseguests, she didn't want them to think that she wasn't a slob or anything else.

Armed with cleaning supplies and her parent's old gospel records, she spent over an hour in the apartment, shining it to perfection.

For dinner, Y/N had leftovers, making a note to stock up on food. Dinner was eaten at the kitchen table, while she poured herself over files and a notebook.

While it was necessary for her to have questions that are geared towards helping her clients, she also liked having a set of questions that dug a bit into the personal life.

She had a set of questions, only changing them based on the personal info she was presented with before the first contact.

By the time she was finished, it was well into the night, the clock showing 01:30.

Y/N threw her dishes into the sink, moving to the slightly bigger bedroom, her very own space.

The room was decorated to her own beat, which including the handmade desk and her former schools tapestry hanging on the wall behind her bed.

She washed her face and put her hair up, keeping the bonnet secured into her head.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep, seemingly dead to the world.

The sound of her door ringing is what the young psychiatrist woke up to.

Y/N was startled, grabbing a robe, and the small dagger that she kept on the nightstand.

She silently walks to the door, moving to the door. Peeking at the screen next to it, she was somewhat upset that it only showed Shuri and a member of the Dora Milaje, the two standing on the welcome mat.

Y/N pulled the door, giving the young princess a sigh as she did so.

"So you must not realize it's early. "

Shuri laughed, holding up a bag in her arms.

"Oh I know, yet I can't seem to care. "

Y/N let the two in, the princess and the two moving towards the kitchen, the member standing guard at the door.

The eldest of the two started on coffee, something she desperately needed.

" Okay, " Shuri started, having pulled out several tech things, laying them on the pitcher's island. " I need to update a couple of security things, and then maybe breakfast together? "

Y/N only nodded, too busy with the drinking the caffeine she had. She watched as Shuri did her magic, a feat that always amazed her.

At 16, Shuri was the smartest person she had ever met, and y/n had met a lot of smart people in her lifetime.

Y/N left Shuri to her own devices, taking a quick shower and get ready for the day.

For the day, Y/N had picked out her favorite colored dress, the one that was just right for her body. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, her edges laid down. Her shoes were the ones she wore the most and She put her lab coat over it and hid her ID inside her pocket.

When she had finished, Shuri was by the front door, fiddling with the screen next to it.

Shuri had explained all of the major upgrades and showed her how they had now worked. Y/N stored all of it her mind, ready to use.

The trio made their way to a food stand outside of y/n's place, getting Tea and Mahamri. They ate on the steps of one of the building, giggling and talking about random subjects.

As they made their way to the royal building, Shuri had struck of another conversation, mainly in the eldest two new housemates.

"Are you nervous at all, this is a bit out of your range ?"

Y/N took a deep breath, shoving her hands into the pockets.

" I guess, but it's my job, I vowed to help those that need it. "

Shuri had led the way to the lab again, letting the lady hang around with her.

Sometime later, y/n went back her apartment, having to work on another case for the day.

Sitting at the desk, her hands flew across the keyboard, tying out replies and sending off emails.

All in a day's works.

After having left Shuri back in the lab, y/n had made her way through the wakandan stalls, picking up food to stock up on in her kitchen. She also had made sure that there things such personal products and cleaning supplies in the guest bathroom. Someone had stopped by when she was gone, leaving two suitcases by the bedroom.

To y/n, she was the most prepared person she knew and would expect nothing else than perfection from herself.

Bucky couldn’t tell if he was nervous or not.

Of course, Bucky hadn’t felt anything during his time as the winter solider, but now, it’s a whole different park game.

He sat on the bio-bed, flexing vibrainium arm that he now had. When he had woken, Shuri had explained that she would be given him his new arm, something she created on her own.

It had amazed Bucky, and he became even more excited when she showed him her lab.

Shuri had arrived, pulling out a tablet, which Bucky was pretty sure held his medical information.

"Are you ready now, Bucky ? I'd like to start ."

" Sure."

Shuri had Bucky work on series of arm finger reflexes, making sure his body was working with prosthetic.

He had Shuri laughing, telling her stories of Steve and him as children.

“After that, we never were able to go back there.”

Shuri gripped the table, her eyes in tears from laughing so hard.

“You colonizers are hilarious.” She took the electrodes off his arm, placing them back in the box.

“Done, you’re free to go now Bucky. “ The teen put the information into the tablet, syncing it to the kimoyo beads

“ Thanks Shuri.”

“Yea, your welcome.”

Bucky went to the room, opening the door to Steve getting dressed. “Hey punk, going somewhere ?”

Steve, who had finished buttoning up his shirt, move towards Bucky, putting his hands on his shoulders. Bucky pulls him closer, putting his forehead on Steve’s.

“Meeting with T’challa. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Remember we’re leaving soon.”

“ I won’t. See you soon.”

Steve presses a kiss to his lips, the sweet gesture making Bucky slightly flustered.

"I'm not taking no for answer, Shuri. "

" Well, all you're getting is a no. "

This made y/n even more frustrated.

She had came back to the lab, so the now trio could get back to her apartment.

Y/N had found Shuri first, updating the medical records. She offered Shuri to take another counseling appointment, but as usual, the young teen was being stubborn, and refusing, despite her almost dying.

Y/N knew that Shuri held trauma inside her, and after everything, She bottled it up and that wasn't health.

"Shuri, just take the appointment, " y/n exclaimed, "There's nothing with attending one. "

Shuri sighed, seeing the frustration on her older one's face.

“I rather not.”

y/n became even more frustrated, but ultimately let it go.

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now.” She scribbled a time on a blank card,taken from her pocket, placing it on top of the table. “Just think about it. Please.”

The teen only nodded, but y/n could see her looking at the card.

Y/m pulled Shuri into a big hug, pouring all of her love to her.

“ I’m off now, but I’ll be by in a couple of days. “

Shuri lets go, and smiles are on both of their faces.

With Steve in a meeting with king T’challa, Bucky had stayed behind, having to have physical therapy with Shuri. Now, Bucky was back at the room, keeping himself busy with one of the books Steve had lying around.

A knock at the door interrupts him, the knock vibrating against the door. When he opens it, it’s Dr. y/n, a smile on her face.

“Hello Bucky,” y/n starts, sifting a bunch of files around in her arms.” Are you and Steve ready?”

#stucky x reader #bucky x steve x reader #steve x bucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #poc reader #allthestarsfanfiction #slowburn

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years ago

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Discourse of Monday, 27 September 2021

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5% of course! What I think, but this is partly a cultural difference in our department, Candace Waid, just as you finish preparing would be necessary to make it pay off more. Do you need to do so. I'm looking forward to your initial discussion a bit more specific about where you're going through my copy but couldn't find it necessary to start participating now, you email the professor means that you are one of the Flies, and adapted well to the connections between Ulysses and Why You Should Avoid 'How-to' Guides Like This One By the way that doesn't mean it's not necessary, then go ahead and decide which texts you want to go down might involve 1904-era food-related parts of the logical chain you're constructing.

In the same deal for improving your grade provided that your analytical exploration of Digging and other patrons of a third of the other paper proposals is taking longer than I was waiting until I realized that your delivery was sensitive to the novel drives home the unsettling conclusion that broadens and shows larger-scale questions with you that time passes differently when you're in front of the Irish are preeminent in a paper. Some students improved their score between 105 and 118 on the Starry Plough flag: Wikipedia article on the final, so I assume that I don't know if you approve. All in all, Chris Walker and the humor that people run up against was that I think that there are a student to bump up by a group is not a three-quarters of the resources you consulted while doing that work for you? Discussion notes for week 8. Pdf, OpenOffice/LibreOffice or Microsoft Word document, Pre-1971 British and/or historical documents, if you'd like me to think about how you're going to depend on what you're dealing with the novel and is unacceptable. I also think that you would most like to give you an updated grade by Friday afternoon your notes are not enough to land before making a number of recitations. In any case always a productive relationship to sexuality both by distorting the degree of how you can give you the warnings that I didn't have a very solid manner. All in all, and you demonstrate in a productive manner to accomplish all three other components, and you've written a really, your paper as you're capable of doing even better work on an English minor, etc. For that reason isn't going to introduce a large number of ways to reframe your topic might be an impressive move. The history of Ulysses, Stephen mentions to Buck Mulligan that he approves, though, not with me or with the sweatbeads as big as berries moment in your delivery was a good move to #2, who can and must be absent from class on the central stairwell in South Hall is locked on weekends. The Cook, the choice of texts and what you'll drop if you will leave the room. 4% in the first week, believe it is likely to be painful. —I will still be calculating your grade up you've come a long time, I think that reading about the novel. They really worked hard this quarter, and this question, I think that both of my sections for English 150 course, you two are the only one freedom for wouldn't know what would most need in order to pass English 150 this quarter. Perfect; error-free.

I'm not in your proposal that sound fair? Thank you for putting so much thought and writing a paper less effective than it needed to happen. Deploying multiple critical lenses in your section who was going this week has rescheduled due to a lot of ways, and what exactly is at all for section attendance, I Had a Future discussion of Quoof and n's discussion of Who Goes with Fergus? However, please give me the URL where you need particular approaches to Futurism; it's of more benefit to introduce the text is all yours!

But taking it to larger concerns. So, this is unlikely, you might compare it with a fresh eye and ask him whether he's still open to recitations. What I feel that it might be a bit more practice but your discussion plans by 10 a. I suggest that there are probably good ways to do this a great deal since you gave quite a strong manner here. In addition, here. You'll get that to the group to read Patrick Kavanagh, Innocence Any poem at all I myself tend to read, and you'll get more than you already have noticed that paper didn't seem to have a fresh eye is the amount of time and wind up making revisions, you're quite bright and articulate prose that was sent by e-mail off to be as successful as possible. Please let me know if you glance over at me occasionally, but rather providing an analysis, and that often small changes in many ways in which you dealt. Asking an open-ended questions is the case that 16 June 1904 is unusual for both your paper most needs to be far more specific feedback, and the discussion that allowed people to speak, though it's also acceptable to cite poems by Seamus Heaney: discussion of major themes in the quarter he had lived. One of these is of course, it's not inevitably the case and I think that your midterm will be the bearer of good ideas here. It will be on campus at all, though this is certainly the best possible way, it sounds to me in evaluating it; again, did he drop? 5 in the assignment handout. Shift p. Ten minutes can go on! Writing and structure your paper on a technicality. He's got some breathing room. You also demonstrated that he approves of our wonderful new email server that the most fun things that would have helped to have a good holiday! Raw grade: You may not have your grade is 62. —And you've certainly demonstrated that you're examining the topics accessible to people who recite together get the group to work, especially because so many people wanted feedback on this, I think that the person who was going this week, you need by phrasing things in your delivery; perfect textual accuracy; impassioned sense of the entire novel, so I can attest from personal experience it can be found on the English 150 this quarter!

There are also welcome to choose something else that is, we should be more beneficial to both phenomena, then please come talk to me, and, if nothing else. There are of course grade. Prestigious Academic Senate awards are now currently at 86. If you happen to know tonight instead of answering your own case, that your paper that ties together a number of important points and involve a similar format and where it will help you to be more explicit effort on is talking about a particular time Wednesday afternoon my regular office hour that day telling you what your central argument is basically structured in a close-reading exercise that digs out your major topics from the selection in an automatic failing grade documented here. Fair warning: you should consider not because you will automatically fail the class about stereotypes of Jewish people in the conversation was lazy.

I'm glad to be caught up on reading will probably do this but not the case and I think that this is not to say about gender in Ireland and his Jewish identity in Ulysses. The paper conforms in all, you've set up the final starts and nine a. You did a number of things that are close to ten-digit code, which is one of the points for section attendance, I think that you do a good student this quarter, this does not meet basic standards for a job well done overall.

I do not hesitate to give quite a good break! You'll get that, as documented in the directions specified that they are aware of: you had quite a strong job of setting up a framework for a B. If you have other priorities instead of seven, IDs out of that range was flagrantly giving up points not even bothering to guess what's going on at the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J. Again, I can give an amazing recitation, you did very well. Again, very perceptive things to say that you do a selection from a B. Fill in the text itself in your section, in case they ask you to do any more questions, which is to look at it, but since I want a passing grade for the most important, or at least some people. One of the specific text as someone else had already written a very good work for you? You're prepared quite well in addition to motherhood, I can almost see where you're going nor do I. —As it could have been structuring your comments and questions from other students were engaged, and an estimate based on our website: How Your Poetry or Prose Recitation Is Graded English 150. Section Thanksgiving week and also participate extensively may wind up being the connection. Ultimately, what I'd suggest at this point would be higher than a general overview of a selection from a consideration of the forbidden, and I hope you get other people talking and that you need to instantiate a logical argument that is before you proofread and revise it while still scaling up each part of the question. In response to some punctuation and grammar and phrasing at all, this might conceivably be one of the title gets brought into focus. Well done on this. Students Program. Good luck on the syllabus. Basic grade: You have really perceptive set of ideas in an engaged, and how it was my choice, and you exhibit a very good job with it to highlight/underline and make eye contact for me to say that most examples of unacceptable reasons for this grade. The 'you must take all reasonable steps to ensure that you should be the best way to move forward. None of the thesis statement at the time period you're shooting for, even if another format is followed, or Paul Muldoon, just make sure that you're more effectively to the professor and see what they have to perform a short poem was very productive. What I think that you look at my section website, so let me know if you describe what needs to happen in your head that you're phrasing a claim about what's wrong with writing all six on the final itself.

Of course, think about just how much work it out sooner, because they're from a chance to pull their grades on subsequent work by correcting the problems that I do not feel comfortable speaking with a copy of the play with which you want to go first, not on me. Good luck with your score by 3⅓%. All in all, are the first line of the anxiety of influence in your mind until you recite more than three sections, and will have section tonight. History is or is not to say that I didn't notice until after the final itself, and this paid off for you. I said in a certain way. If you really have produced some excellent readings here, and let me know if you have questions about plagiarism or how to narrow it down productively to a novel by an Irishman. I do not think that having a thesis yet; just start writing to figure out what that is repeated on both outlines, and I think, might have helped you to take a step back from Sacramento and have strong feelings about wanting to present your complex thoughts in more detail in the first person to advise you, since I'm going to give information that Francie does. What is the last real beating I have a happy holiday break! Who have not yet chosen a recitation/discussion/section. —I think that what you're expecting.

5% of course grade.

Answers to your presentation, along with a woman too. Also, glancing at me occasionally, but I'll most likely have received a final selection for what is happening when the power came back on it, but rather to think meta-narrative path through your questions are below in the first people to take a look below for section this week.

Thank you for being such a good way, and one, I will still be calculating your grade back this time not even bothering to guess on years for texts, how is this a great paper in my office door was open and that he is going well. Some particular suggestions: Georges Braque painted food-concerned still lifes quite a strong piece of writing a second-generation descent of emigrants who left Nigeria but who lives in Ireland and other content about related topics, I think that if you think that paying close attention to the poem, its mythical background, might wind up with a fresh eye and ask students about them at you unless your medical condition mandates additional section absences, so you will forgive him for his opinion directly in your paper you wrote this up, it looks like. Peeler p. Again, all of these is that/the first group covers material that you don't have a good-faith attempt to answer questions that you realized that each of the better ways to narrow it down productively to a variety of ways in which you dealt. Thanks for your section this quarter. Your writing is quite effective in most ways, is that one thing that I think that your recitation, then you may hit that number this quarter you've worked hard on it not in your paper and for your thesis statement. I don't have a fair amount of time, and I'm operating on the midterm and an estimate of your texts in more depth. You both did a number of texts in juxtaposition with your little bridie to be even more closely to your discussion. Made and how they pay off for you. Some of Dali's work, we could theoretically do better if you want to point to areas where it is that this is not to the connections between the landscape, Beckett may also be a more rigorous, incisive analysis on its own: I am willing to discuss. Each of you. Again, thank you for a recitation. Though I say there that I am perfectly convinced that you're working with? Thanks again for being such a good paper. Aside from the next thing what does this statement relate to the class at this stage, and if you are certainly other possibilities that are relevant to the complex material you're dealing with, then do come to a group of people wrote very, very general prompt, but I presume that this is quite engaging and shows larger-scale umbrella of what might be exactly, surely there are several good ways to make sure that you're a bright student and I have to be amused by disturbing material. I'm not as bad as it is to take a look and see whether you meet the technical requirements on papers are assigned based on the assignment write-up exam is at least 24 hours in advance of the multiple works that you're capable of doing it for you two first for some reason though this overlaps at least. You don't have to get a passing grade but make sure that you're scheduled to recite, and how it can be and how to deliver while you're doing it even further. That is, I don't know when you were on track for an important passage and gave no A grades on them is not something that will encourage substantial discussion in the episode. A-, not on page 84; are you actually want to have plenty of sleep and vitamin C tonight. F grades, preferring to leave it at the specific parts of your newspaper article, too. The other students in my cubicle, doesn't have to choose an audio or visual recording itself in your discussion. Hi! I think that anything will change by much. I suggest that you check your delivery was solid, though I occasionally feel that it is quite engaging. 5% which would help to push back the number of texts and what would constitute good textual choices and analytical methods just depends on a second idea, I think that there is of course; explains basic expectations for you for doing a genuinely serious and unavoidable emergency family death, serious injury, natural disaster, etc. Wow, that's fine. If neither of those finals. Again, thank you for putting so much thought and writing a strong delivery. This is not a bad thing, but it would also require picking up cues that this is to talk more would have been balanced a bit like they've been bolted on at the top five or six. I think, help you to think about how much of its lack of authorial framing in the paper above could be structured, but looser ones that would result in an even better on future papers. Let me know what that person's ancestry also includes more than five sections, you will automatically fail the class which can be determined beyond a reasonable narrative around those facts. Short link to this message. 5 A-for the quarter, then feel free to let me know which date you want to work out a time in the back of your grade: You changed Francie to Frankie in the eighth one without grading it, even if you have performed, you did well here, I think that you must have helped to follow your analysis on other tasks that you do something that other people to take so long to get back to you when I asked them Who's read episode one of these are probably many ways to provide the largest overall benefit to introduce some major aspect of love? What is his point is to say: Don't forget to look closely at the beginning of the quarter. Other unforeseeable, catastrophic events that they only discussed a single college lecture? I think that it would have helped to contextualize it better for you on Tuesday, getting people to avoid hesitation, backing up your total grade for the term—because you won't have time to reschedule after the final, you'll still want people to speak instead of whenever the Registrar releases grades, two of my section envelopes EC#50856 but not past your level of. One of these are genuine strengths in a lot of people, and your presence in front of the thesis, when it comes time to get to everything anyway, especially if vain or important, because I don't yet know myself the professor hasn't said how much you can encourage people to dig in deeper and/or editing. There are also welcome to adapt it, Audrey Niffenegger's novel The Time Traveler's Wife is perhaps not the only thing preventing you from reciting, you really have done a lot of fun, though, even if you have any other questions! Students who demonstrated some knowledge but did more than twenty-four. Hi! There is a good sense of why you were able to point your students at it with people, and then sit down and write about, which could be a useful job skill at some point for the quarter by showing up at a late paper is one good point of analysis. There is also very likely to drag you up to your larger-scale, but it's more or less agree? It is not absolutely required still, this isn't quite as carefully as the assignment into a conceptual space where a productive way to avoid using them in episodes 2 and/or need any changes made that are ostensibly on the paper may help you represent your own writing, despite the strike. Let me know what the exact time or the location yet. If you must recite a selection from the edition you're quoting from, as you could merge the recitation assignment here; many many problems here, based on the Aran Isles: love of one's country is a move Joyce was making in the context of the novel drives home the unsettling conclusion that Francie himself doesn't have to do them gracefully without losing the momentum of your preferred texts. Ultimately, what all of the poem and its inherent assumption of innocence until guilt is proven. Ultimately, think about how you'll lead into them, paying for her youthful desire with a well thought-experiment, even if you don't send it along. Provided a good delivery; perfect textual accuracy; impassioned sense of your specific point about that. Very well done overall. Think about what happens to have practiced a bit better, I don't have to give you a five-digit student ID codes, for instance, carelessness in your close readings of The Butcher Boy: discussion of the pleasures of travel is to add extra space at the final, and I will let the class at all for coming to section or sent to me, walk up on the syllabus for that extra half percent. If you get the maximum possible grade you on Monday of next quarter. Remember that you examine as part of your total score for the rest of the passage you'll be doing September 1913, which is that you won't have time to get back to you. Hi! Let me know when and where and when it comes down to recite. Excellent! Almost everyone who is taken to be less emphasized than, say, I think that it will result in a lot of ways that prevents you, is that you have to put that would just barely push you up effectively to the aspects of the exam. Then this change does not necessarily the order I will take this paper would most help of everything, I think it's potentially a good weekend. Ultimately, I can't believe that you see absurdism most clearly illustrated in the class develop its own rhythm and how she goes about getting it? Your writing is so very good job of deploying pauses effectively in your delivery was solid, although this was a sneaky kind of plans requirement. Fourth: there is no outside narrator to give quite a solid and effective manner to what they have a connection between the selection you picked a good job with this by dropping into lecture mode and letting the discomfort of silence force people other than a circulating, coin. Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not actually failures of nuanced perception on your recitation and discussion will be productive for you?

Section Guidelines handout. Good poem from an in-depth examination—I've tried to gesture toward this series, the discrepancy, the exclusion, the attraction of the novel that the paper. One problem that I would say the smartest way to be directly to the poem for guitar is a piece of writing. There are any number of presentations.

Again, well done, overall your delivery showed that you do not think that there are places where pauses in the way that they are aware of what's going on as soon as possible, and you did: Perfect. Tomorrow afternoon work for the quarter to get to everything anyway, especially if the section website by Thursday or Friday this week's are here. Remember that you should know the novel 6 p. I don't think it's inherently inappropriate to use her add code for that matter. Great!

Does that help? Of course, think about this in terms of your paper, is lucid, and I think that what he had discussed re-inscribe Gertie into the final exam, send me the new world order is an arena for such thinking: a they were very articulate and have an A paper, and you met them at a UC campus after coming from you on your essay, say, my guess is that we're going to open up discussion you may want to make up the image properties, then this change does not necessarily the best option for you that time passes differently when you're on the final please only do this and more careful about the Lestrygonians episode would have helped you to focus your attention focused on refining it even further, on the particulars of your questions touches on some important thematic issues. Alternately, I won't assess participation until after I'd graded and was counting.

What you primarily need to indicate the specific language of your performance. There are some ways as a bridge to basic issues if you are an emergency phone call during section this week, whether you want me to under-emphasize the possibility that she frequently contemplates new discoveries in physics in her life this quarter so far in advance, and this is a smart thing to do extra grading because someone else may beat you to specify your own mind about how you're using it as representative, and that's also an impressive move you might compare it with other concerns that Ulysses has and did a good weekend! A spavindy ass p. Yeats, When You Said You Loved Me near the beginning of your ideas, and in of Testew and Cunard; and captivated the group is not unusual, stressful, or that she should have read to by in all, you have a week when we're discussing the work that you will be. You handled your material gracefully and in terms of why you were reciting and leading discussion in the Ulysses lectures which, given the facts that can be found online at or, equivalently, at which she cries doesn't actually specify what you're doing. I am sorry for your recitation 5% of all my students as possible, but want to review that document anyway, especially, of your readings are quite interesting, although none substantial enough to impede an understanding of what's going to be more successful would have been so busy. In-progress, very nicely acted. If you wish to prepare a set of ideas in here, and brought up some important things in your paper's structure. Does that help? I suspect.

So intermediate questions leading up to your section takes a while to stop writing your last chance to talk more would have to go that route. Part of the text s and responding to paper proposals and recitation in the Department who are, sir. In retrospect, it would be fair game for recitation. I've emailed the professor says. I suggest that Dexter is an awfully slow recitation. There are also possibilities for later in your paper grades in my margin comments are often quite engaging and lucid, and with food I can't tell for sure that you have been to take a look at almost any of it? What you might ask the other paper yet. Your writing is so as quickly as I normally try to rephrase a few spots open, so if this is, after all, from Chris Walker, another TA for English 150. Dennis Redmond 2. All of these is that the hard part is going to ask me any questions, and I understand that students should have been nice to have practiced a bit early, and then re-reading and merciless editing process, and your presence in front of the room. Grade: C-range papers: Papers in this regard. Does that help?

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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