#employee exit strategies

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[theoraclephobetor]

Just remembered the time a shit manager told me that my storm-triggered migraines were a superpower because I knew "when the weather would get real bad". Asked if she wanted temporary blindness and a frying pan to the skull every time she opened her fucking weather app.

3 days later I had a migraine and she didn't let me leave my shift. So I told every customer I saw that I was going to be slow ringing them through because I was losing my central vision and wasn't allowed to go home.

That lasted about five minutes before my manager demanded I leave 🤷 but that didn't stop 2 of the people from complaining to the regional director, which cost her a promotion.

[reality-detective]

The Vatican: Human Trafficking Hub

The Vatican Underground- Cleared

The Dulce Base- Underground Cleared

The Area 51 Underground Base- Cleared

Orion Group ❌ (Defeated)

Ciakharr Group ❌ (Defeated)

Killy Tokurt Group ❌ (Defeated)

These are the three main factions responsible for the

The CIA is connected to the Killy Tokurt Ops. They are the one who specialize in soul scalping. This is how our government leaders were replaced. Removing the light body & soul and replacing it with a physical vessel void of any connection to source.

Sherry Shriner covered this in many videos/audios. Megan Rose spoke about this in one of her books. Corey Goode is also another source who spoke on the caste system of the Ciakharr who are the top elite in their race.

Remember when I mentioned that people were not ready once they found out who have been eating the children? Guess what was the capitol for the "Child Sex Trafficking" breeding hub?

The Vatican.

Do you remember the story or report that came out in July of 2019 where thousands of bones was unearthed in two ossuaries discovered in the Vatican City, as part of an ongoing search for clues into the disappearance of a 15-year-old girl more than three decades ago in 1983?

Do you remember the mass grave full of baby bones found along the shores of Israel's Mediterranean coast, in the ancient seaport of Ashkelon in 2014?

Do you remember An Indigenous group said the remains of as many as 751 people, mainly children, had been found in unmarked graves on the site of a former boarding school in Saskatchewan?

As a matter of fact that was a 2,300 page document that leaked that verified Pope Francis’ cover up of a Vatican Pedophile Ring. Did you know 20 Chilean Priests who went public on their connection to that very same Pedophile Ring, were killed in a plane crash right after their meeting with Pope Francis?

Back on July 20 2014 the International Common Law Court of Justice in Brussels found defendants Pope Francis Bergoglio, Catholic Jesuit Superior General Adolfo Pachon and Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby guilty of rape, torture, murder and the trafficking of children. (Nothing Is Happening?)

I highly doubt it.

Two adolescent women told the ICLCJ Court that Pope Francis raped them while participating in child sacrifices during the Springs of 2009 and 2010 in rural Holland and Belgium. According to a former employee of the Curia in Rome, rapes and murders of children also took place at the Carnarvon Castle in Wales and an undisclosed French Chateau.

A Prosecutor introduced notarized affidavits by eight others claiming to witness these same crimes organized by the Vatican. Another witness testified that they were present during meetings with the then Argentine priest and Bishop Francis and the military Junta during Argentine’s 1970′s Dirty War.

According to the witness, Francis helped traffic 30,000 children of missing political prisoners into the Vatican Pedophile Ring.

Do you know why this has taken so long? If you knew how vast these underground tunnels are you would understand why certain EOs signed by D. Trump kept getting extensions.

The Military at some point will disclose the battles that went underground.

The weapons used.

The strategies used.

The entries/exits used.

The medical technology used.

The portals/gateways that were used.

You got a glimpse of this during the fight that went on underground with the Phil Schneider lectures that still can be found on YouTube about the Dulce extraterrestrial confrontation that resulted in lives being lost and him being scarred from it.

People are only looking at the human aspect of this process. They are not looking at this as governments officials serving a unknown species that want world dominion who is an entire different secret government whose base are in these DUMBS-(Deep Underground Military Bases) who control all of our 3 letter agencies who are middlemen/conduits who these covert species use to control Washington. 🤔

Julian Assange

[quartergremlin]

Shelldon inherited Donnie's need for validation. PSDD inherited their need to protect its family bloodlust.

first/prev/next

transcript:

PSDD:

Father. I have decided that tomorrow I will be accompanying you to your office lab.

Donnie:

Are you now?

P:

Yes! Since SHELLDON "let the cat out of the bag" there's no reason for me to not go! (I have the paperwork to prove it.)

I am far more optimized for security and risk assessment than SHELLDON, and unlike you two I am unimpressed by most humans, so I can accurately evaluate their threat levels!

I can finally do an in-depth assessment of your public work environment and vet your employees firsthand!

Security! Contingencies! Exit strategy!

[elvenbeard]

Exit Strategy

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: V finally meets again with Dr. Fuentes, who during their first meeting already seemed very intrigued in his case. With not much left to lose, he takes her offer for an informal appointment - but even so, in Night City everything comes at a price. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 13/?, 8258 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

Kerry leaned over from the driver’s seat of his car and gently turned V’s head to give him a brief goodbye kiss. V didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to unglue his ass from the passenger seat, or go to that appointment with Fuentes. His hand lingered on Kerry’s thigh too long and gripped too tightly for Kerry to not notice. He had been right. V truly hated hospitals and doctors and anything to do with either.

“Ya sure you don’t want me to come?” Kerry asked with the utmost genuine worry in his eyes.

“Not that I don’t wanna,” V whispered, “But I’ll manage. And you’ll manage.”

He tried to convince himself more than Kerry really, and Kerry’s little grin told him that he knew that just as well. So, he just kissed him once more for good measure.

“I’ll give ya a call as soon as I’m out and I’ll be all yours for the rest of the day. Promise.”

“Okay,” Kerry nodded, beard brushing against V’s lips briefly. Then he withdrew, and V slowly lifted his hand to the doorhandle.

He wasn’t sure how, but somehow, he made it out of the car eventually. Exited the steel and gold colored Guinevre, waved Kerry goodbye briefly as he slowly drove off towards Charter Hill. Then he entered the MedCenter with his heart beating in his throat.

Finding the right name plate on the right room turned into a downright scavenger hunt in the hospital’s endless white hallways that all looked the same. A kind med-tech pointed V into the right direction eventually and opened the door for him. Now he was sitting in a too comfortable armchair in Dr. Fuente’s office. He had been a little early, but she was close to running late. V wasn’t sure if he liked it better that way or not.

His neck was stiff and hurt, partially from the accident still, but also from sleeping on the couch last night, huddled up to Kerry closely. After their pizza had arrived, they’d watched old movies until they both eventually dozed off. Falling asleep to the bad audio of an old action film and Kerry’s soft snoring had been another of those moments he wouldn’t have minded lasting a lifetime.

He pulled up the files on Fuentes again, gave them another quick read. Nix had sent them late last night and V had studied them over breakfast this morning. He had come to the same conclusion as the Afterlife’s resident netrunner: nothing too out of the ordinary with this doctor. At least on the surface.

Isabella Fuentes was born January 19th, 2024, in Puerto Rico. When she was two, the family moved to Tucson, Arizona. She was divorced, had two daughters, both adults around V’s age. One moved to Los Angeles two years ago, the other still studied at NCU. Fuentes herself had come to Night City with a medicine scholarship for the same university back in the middle of the century.

So much to the pretty ordinary basics. But V perked up when he learned that soon after finishing her studies, Fuentes worked for BioDyne for a considerable number of years. During their first meeting she had been quite adamant about not having any loyalties to that particular corporation. Nix was unable to turn up details on why – or how – she left, but that she got out of the corporate world alive after such a long time spoke for itself. BioDyne may not have been as militaristic as Arasaka, but V doubted they just let go of long-term employees without repercussions for either side.

After the end of her corporate career, Fuentes worked for Trauma Team briefly, in the field. She was injured during the time of the Unification war, although not related to war activities. She continued on the administrative side as she recovered and eventually took on her current role at the MedCenter’s neurology department. Ever since the end of the war she’d been exactly there, predominantly helping veterans and contributing to studies in her field. A long and remarkable career so far, even if not nearly as prestigious as it could have been with her prerequisites. V was certain there were parts of her past she would like to avoid talking about, and Nix had offered to dig deeper into some aspects… But for now, V was content with what he had. The rest would be determined by how this meeting went.

It was almost 10:15 at this point, no sign of the doctor still. V took a deep breath and looked around the room. The office was on one of the higher floors of the building. Not overly large or impressive, but it had a decently sized window. The shutters were closed, sadly, otherwise the view across Little China may have been quite beautiful this morning. All light came from some simple embedded ceiling lights, a warm white glow, a barely audible hum. The furnishings were sparse, a large grey desk front and center, two armchairs, an office chair, all upholstered with white synleather. V had uncomfortable flashbacks to Blue-Eyes’ office, but this room was thankfully too narrow for secret floor compartments containing synthetic bodies. The wall to his right was lined with shelves displaying mostly books, documents, and data shards, as well as a few personal items. Some quaint figurines that could’ve been Mexican, but V wasn’t sure. Souvenirs from a trip long in the past. There also were some tiny, colorful flowerpots that looked like they were hand-painted by children, containing even tinier succulents that may have been just plastic. To his left, on the wall opposite to the bookshelves, was a door, but not the one he had entered through. Just when he finished the thought, V suppressed a wince as the door right behind him slid open and a slightly out of breath Dr. Fuentes finally entered her office.

“Please excuse the delay, I had an emergency this morning and my whole schedule is shifted now,” she said, then stopped by V’s side briefly, extending a hand. V got up to shake it.

“Good morning, first of all,” she said, nodding and smiling politely, “I’m happy you’re back. You look better already than last week.”

“Thanks,” V said briefly and sank back into his chair while Fuentes went to open the window shutters, letting in some natural light. She hung her white coat over the backrest of her chair then sat down across from V behind her desk and folded her hands on her lap. Intelligent dark eyes were fixated on him, and V tried not to let his thoughts run too wild just yet with assumptions and theories about potential ulterior motives on her side.

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she had finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.”

“Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.”

“Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing to tell me more about your condition now.”

‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would’ve used. It was more a necessity at this point that he got help.

“I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.”

Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed.

“You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…”

“I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but shoulders visibly more tense than before.

“Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell every random stranger on the street… no offense, of course.”

He paused.

“If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

A short, knowing smile flashed across Fuentes’ lips, and again, it was for just a split-second. V had known he was onto something from the first moment they ever looked at each other face to face. The question was not whether or not Fuentes could help him, but if he even wanted her to help him.

Fuentes put the tablet down and leaned back in her chair, brushing a black and grey curl out of her face. The late morning light coming in through the window right behind her framed her in a hazy golden glow, almost as if she wasn’t real, just wishful thinking in a hopeless situation.

“Alright,” she said calmly and nodded, “It is only fair.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then rested her chin on her interlocking fingers.

“I know very well who you are, V. They call you ‘King of the Afterlife’ on the streets. A mercenary with a background at Arasaka’s department for Counterintelligence, and that’s only where the rumors and hearsay begin... Admittedly, I wonder how much of it all is true.”

V wasn’t surprised. He was certain his old Trauma Team records from his time at Arasaka were still stored somewhere. They must’ve come up when the hospital checked his insurance status after the accident. And the hearsay and rumors, well… Didn’t have to pay a fixer much for that kind of superficial intel.

This was not what he had hoped she would open their conversation up with, but it was a start.

“From my experience, telling the truth is the easiest way to make people believe you’re lying,” he decided to say. Fuentes chuckled briefly, then nodded, serious as ever. She looked him directly in the eyes, piercing, trying to read his thoughts. He wondered if she had cyberoptics – probably, as a neurosurgeon, and with her age. Doubtful though whether she had the means to covertly scan his system and biometrics. She wouldn’t be very successful either way, and the little information of him that was on public record he didn’t care about people knowing.

“Is it true you’re one of the best that money can buy?” she then asked with sincerity. Regardless, this time V was at least a little taken aback by how sudden and straightforward the question came.

“And I thought you wanted to help me, not the other way around…”

He leaned back in his chair too now and crossed his legs loosely. Undoubtedly, he was intrigued by this turn of the conversation, but at the same time his guts twisted into a knot.

“I think we can help each other,” Fuentes said, “And we both have a lot to lose.”

“Is that so?”

She smiled sadly, then shook her head.

“No, actually, I lost a lot already. And not even Night City’s best mercenary could bring it back,” she said, voice calm and composed, “But I would be satisfied just with plain revenge as well.”

The fire in her eyes was reignited, the same fire from their first meeting, the same anger Takemura had always spoken with about “restoring his honor” while to V it had always sounded more like a thirst for revenge at the core. Restoring an order that couldn’t be restored when he could’ve, should’ve just turned his back to the Arasakas the moment he had the chance.

Something like that was easy to say for V, of course, who hadn’t dedicated his whole life to a corporation.

And now, Fuentes, mysteriously non-associated with her former employer BioDyne, spoke of revenge. That could only mean trouble, and V hoped not to a similar degree as with Goro and the Arasakas.

“Not a fan of revenge,” he said truthfully, “It rarely solves anything and only creates more problems, usually.”

Fuentes laughed dryly.

“So what, live and let live?”

“Focusing on just living so far has at least brought me further than trying to get back at everyone who ever wronged me.”

“Maybe you haven’t been wronged badly enough yet then. You’re still young,” Fuentes smiled, but her eyes didn’t. V considered her words for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a barely audible announcement droned over loudspeakers, calling doctor so-and-so to room this-and-that. Otherwise, it was eerily quiet in this part of the hospital. No beeping machines, no hectically running people in the hallways. V began to understand why she’d wanted to meet him in her private office instead of an examination room downstairs now.

“Back in April I was shot in the head by my fixer and dumped in a landfill,” V then said, “I think I’ve been wronged a fair amount in my life so far. Although that surely takes the cake.”

He paused for a moment.

“Admittedly, had I had the chance, I’d returned him the favor. Although, I wouldn’t have called it revenge. Justice suits me better.”

Fuentes said nothing for a couple of moments, just studied his face. V could see her thoughts racing, although he wasn’t quite sure about her next move just yet.

“That’s your old injury?” she then simply asked and picked up her tablet again. She pulled up his brain scans and sat it down in the center of the desk so they both had a good view of the screen.

“A degeneration like this is nothing I’ve ever seen caused by a mere gunshot wound,” she said, “Although, I don’t recall someone still standing in front of me and talking normally with an injury as deep and massive in that general area of the brain…”

V’s pulse sped up just slightly when she looked back up at him again, inquisitive and head tilted slightly.

“You were very lucky…”

“’Luck’ doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface,” he said, peeling away at his cast again. The little plastic barrier between his left thumb and index finger was smooth as glass already from his consistent fidgeting with it.

“Was… or rather, is it an infection?” she continued to inquire, “I can imagine, ending up in a landfill barely alive with a wound like that…”

“I guess you could call it that, although not from the cause you assume,” V smirked, suppressed a chuckle. He almost heard Johnny’s disapproving scoff, saw him in the corner of the room leaned against the shelf, flipping him off with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Almost, not really. Not like he used to be able to.

“You remember the murder of Saburo Arasaka?” he tried to bring himself back into the conversation, out of his head. He wanted to bait the doctor some more, get her intrigued.

Fuentes seemed confused but nodded.

“His son killed him, or so was the conclusion in the end. Although, I remember assassins were blamed for it at first, hired killers. It was all over the news for weeks, until the parade. Then that was all over the news…”

Slowly, it began to dawn on her.

“You were involved in that?”

“Unwillingly, not directly,” V quickly clarified, “But before I explain how this is all connected and important… What do you want from me?”

Fuentes slumped back into her chair slightly and cleared her throat, disappointed almost.

“Would you be open to a job even if it boils down to a simple act of revenge?” she asked, then huffed amusedly, “I never would have guessed to ever ask a self-proclaimed mercenary that question.”

“Yeah, we’re generally pretty amoral people, all the way through to our cold, money-filled hearts,” V said bluntly, and Fuentes cheeks turned a slightly darker shade. She cleared her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’m joking,” V added after keeping her in suspense for at least a little bit, “Whether or not I take a job usually depends on what I can gain from it, so… Tell me the details. I’m listening.”

“You are very different from how I imagined you,” she then sighed, avoiding answering again, “I was surprised the other day already, but I chalked it up to the shock, your medication...”

V shifted in his seat slightly but tried to keep his posture relaxed and open.

“What did you imagine?” he asked.

“I’m not even sure anymore,” she said, “Less strings attached… or rather, different strings altogether.”

“You thought, ‘I’ll just hire someone to solve my problem for me, how complicated can it be’?”

V couldn’t hold himself back, because very often it boiled down to that. Not that he minded it particularly. Fuentes shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said, “In the end, it doesn’t matter. We’re here now and… And if you can help me with my problem, I’m more than willing to help you with yours free of charge in exchange.”

“Money’s not an issue,” V said, as Kerry had reassured him many times before as well. Truthfully, he still hoped he could somehow get out of having to assist her revenge plans, whatever they were.

“Well… regardless, you may not have a choice but help me.”

And here it was, the catch V had been waiting for, as if she’d read his mind.

“Why don’t we finally stop with the games, and you tell me what you want,” he said, no longer hiding his growing impatience.

Fuentes slowly turned to open a drawer on the other side of her desk. She pulled out a small black shard case, somewhat old-fashioned looking. Carefully, almost as if she feared it could shatter, she placed it on the desk and then slowly slid it closer to V without letting go.

“Have a look,” she said, “Far from a professional dossier, I fear, but I hope it helps as a start.”

V reached out to take the case and ejected the contained shard. He knew the model, knew that even if Fuentes had put a daemon or virus on it and this whole meeting was an elaborate trap, his system had enough countermeasures built in to catch it before it could cause any real damage. Not letting his hesitation shine through he inserted the shard into his free neck slot. A handful of files popped up on his interface, indeed not in the quality or as organized as he was used to from his fixers. But it was a more than decent start for the work of an amateur like Fuentes.

He opened a video clip front and center among the files. It was only a few seconds long and looped, showing a man around Fuentes’ age, maybe a bit older. The quality of the footage wasn’t the best, as if illegally captured from a public camera feed. The man wore a dark suit but was otherwise rather non-descript. Light hair, glasses… ironically, the same way Fuentes kept reminding him of Takemura, this man reminded V of Hellman. He had to do a double take, but no, the more often he saw him get out of a Delamain cab and hurriedly walk towards the entrance of what appeared to be a hotel, the more certain he was that this wasn’t Hellman. V skimmed through the other documents attached.

“Nathaniel Sutter,” he said, as he began to read through the files, “The name rings a bell… Not sure why though…”

Fuentes shrugged slightly and shook her head.

“It would surprise me if you knew him,” she said, “He is good at keeping a low profile, always has been. Finding a way to get to him, wherever he is at the moment, would be part of your job.”

“Last known place of residence Palm Street 78, Apartment 3, Charter Hill. Back in March still. Worked at BioDyne as a high-ranking researcher, manager… stopped active work for the corporation five years ago but remains on the executive board until today,” V summarized what he could gather from the files, some of them internal BioDyne documents he was certain were not meant for outsider’s eyes. Others were reports from business magazines, newsfeed articles, and so on, also not his go-to reading material. But he was certain he’d seen the name before somewhere.

“Let me guess…” he said after copying the data over and ejecting the shard again to return it to its case, “He ruined your career and you wanna get back at him as a late revenge, forever leave him in the unknown about what he did wrong?”

Fuentes smiled and shook her head as she took the shard back from V.

“No,” she said, holding the case gently between her fingertips before slowly looking back up at him, “I want his last thoughts to be regret. I want him to know that it was me who had him killed, and that it was for stealing my life’s work for nothing but the furtherment of his pathetic career.”

She spat her words out like venom, her eyes burning with disdain. V was quick to put two and two together. Also, he liked her bravado. He preferred clients that wanted their targets to know exactly why they met their demise over those who wanted him to do all the dirty work to keep their own conscience and hands clean.

“So, I think what you want is justice as well, not revenge,” he said after a short pause.

“What’s the difference, in your opinion?” Fuentes asked, leaning back in her chair again, eyebrows raised and shrugging slightly.

“Revenge is all about emotion,” V said, “You wronged me, so I’ll wrong you back, because I’m pissed or upset or otherwise hurt. Emotions always make things complicated. Justice, on the other hand, is logical. You analyze what went wrong, how you’ve been wronged… and then find an adequate punishment.”

Fuentes chuckled.

“A mercenary or a philosopher?”

“Neither,” V said, “Not really.”

Fuentes had no response to that, only smiled as if something had just clicked into place. V took the opportunity to change the subject away from him again.

“So, you did work on what they’re now marketing as the cure for MS?” he asked and finally Fuentes nodded. She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes drifting across her bookshelves briefly before finding V’s again.

“Of course, in the end, it was all in the name of BioDyne,” she explained, “It had always been a project intended to create great profits for people already a hundred times richer than what six generations of my family ever called their own. But somewhere deep down I was convinced, young and naïve, that regardless it was an innovation that could save the lives of thousands one day.”

“Was he your supervisor?” V asked, once more pulling up the video of Sutter and sending a handful of somewhat decent still frames to Nix for a quick background check. He would’ve loved to dig up some dirt on him himself, but if Fuentes kept her word he’d still be occupied for a while here for further testing and examination of his symptoms.

“We both started at BioDyne almost at the same time, both fresh out of university,” she explained, “He came here from a different city, and we bonded over both being outsiders in NC. Originally, we also shared similar goals, but somewhere down the line something changed.”

“Heard that story a million times before,” V said, exaggerating, but Fuentes just nodded again, knowingly.

“It’s as old as time,” she said, “But it still hurts, looking back… Anyway yes, you guessed right, he ruined my career – but not even in the sense that I was focused on advancing it. My primary goal was furthering my research, helping people. Long story short, something somewhere was going on in another department of the company, and because of it, even though we were ready, we weren’t allowed to publish our work.”

“Marketing schemes?” V wondered aloud, remembering similar ploys from Arasaka. Two departments that didn’t even know of each other’s existence influenced each other’s operations, which caused many frustrations on both sides. A handful of times it had been down to V and his subordinates even to play two departments against each other to test morale and company loyalty. He was sure all big corporations worked similarly on the inside.

“I have no clue,” Fuentes only shrugged, “I just know one night I went home none the wiser, and the next morning all my data and findings were gone because I had complained about the management’s practices.”

“To Sutter?” V asked and Fuentes nodded.

“He was also the only one who had access to my data, knew where I stored some more obscure findings that weren’t even relevant to our research. It was all gone, and I was told to pack my stuff and leave. And to better keep my mouth shut or else I’d never find work in my field again.”

“How long ago was that?” V asked, just to be sure the information Nix had given him matched up with her story.

“Fifteen years this year,” Fuentes said.

“A long time,” V nodded, “Why now the sudden lust for revenge?”

Fuentes smiled sadly.

“Because the cure is out now and people are being helped,” she said, “I saw some first results and findings, read the recent studies they conducted, and everything is working as intended. I don’t care anymore what happens now, as long as I can be sure my work wasn’t in vain.”

V frowned.

“Your work for BioDyne wasn’t in vain then, no,” he said, “What about you helping me though, what timeline of events are you picturing here?”

If she would only help him after he took care of Sutter and then instantly got assassinated by BioDyne agents, V would’ve been used as nothing but a tool once more. That he refused.

“I guess that depends on how urgently you need my help,” she said, “And how invasive my help is going to have to be.”

She finally returned the shard case to her desk, and V noticed now that there were some additional little clicking noises – a secret compartment probably, as she should keep something like that in one.

“Shall we begin with the classic ‘how are we feeling today, Mr. Ezaki?’, or would you like to continue where we left off, with the infection and the gunshot wound?”

The pit in V’s stomach grew as there really was no way to evade the topic anymore now. Fuentes had played with open cards, given him a decent bunch of incriminating information that he may as well use against her this instant if he wanted to. She’d put her trust in him, now he had to do the same.

“I will omit some details here and there, as they’re not relevant to my current situation anymore,” he began slowly, “And I want to protect the identities of some people – and you from knowing too much, too.”

“Of course,” Fuentes said calmly. V took a deep breath and steeled himself to tell his story once more, and once more as well to a person he barely knew.

“How familiar are you with Arasaka’s ‘Secure your Soul’ program?”

“Somewhat, but only on a superficial level,” Fuentes said, “It didn’t work as intended, as far as I know, but I can do some more reading on it.”

“If you need anything, I can also send you some more substantial data on it. It technically isn’t even classified anymore, was all part of the data leaks.”

More or less, at least.

“Sure…” Fuentes said, “Although I’m not sure I can follow why this is important. Wasn’t ‘Secure your Soul’ marketed as a means to speak to the dead, basically? What the engrams were actually used for in the end we’ll not delve into just now, but… You’re alive, most certainly.”

“Yeah… somewhat.”

V sat up straight again, cleared his throat, and began to recount the events that were set in motion at No-Tell-Motel in the early morning hours of April 17th 2077. He left out most details, especially about the hunt for Hellman, Evelyn’s involvement and what became of her. He didn’t mention Alt or Johnny by name and omitted all that happened in Dogtown entirely.

What he told Fuentes about was the Relic kickstarting him back into life, somehow, Johnny’s presence and his engram creeping into his brain. He explained how the Relic 2.0 was supposed to work and that his didn’t as intended and yet even better than imagined by its creator. He tried to explain what happened at Mikoshi, and how he felt like afterwards, ever since… Blue-Eyes he decided not to mention yet, but he touched upon trying varying “therapies”, of which the most recent one had many undesirable side-effects.

Fuentes listened with great attention, rarely interrupted him, and when she did, only to clarify the more medical aspects V touched upon. She noted down his symptoms during his attacks back then and now, and requested access to any of the scans Vik had done during all this time to get an idea of the overall development of his physical and mental state in the last months.

“So, if I’m understanding you correctly,” she eventually said after V had concluded his story, “The V I’m talking to right now, your personality, memories, and so on… is all stored on the biochip as an engram?”

Hearing it spelled out like that by a stranger somehow made sound even more surreal than it was. Or a slap in the face, a reality check V didn’t want or need.

“Can you understand now why this is not something I want to be public knowledge?” he asked, and Fuentes nodded pensively. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, looked up at the ceiling, then returned her attention back to her tablet.

“Your brain scans seemed so normal though,” she said, pulling the images up again as if she needed to be sure, “Well, a mild concussion, but other than that…”

“That’s beyond what I’m able to explain,” V said, “Some of my previous doctors said brain scans could seem normal on the surface, because my body has to be kept up and running somehow. There is some brain activity, but all higher functions are carried out on the Relic. The chip itself undid some of the damage from the gunshot because it tried to mimic, recreate the engram’s brain. I’m not even sure how far completed the process was, but given how easy it was for him to take over in the end, pretty far I guess.”

V's stomach turned at the thought, the memories, the feeling of sheer helplessness as he could only watch as Johnny piloted his body. Wondering still what happened during the times when he was fully blacked out, as Johnny had never been a fan of telling the whole truth.

Fuentes folded her hands on the table again, brow furrowed and studying V’s face.

“Your own engram can’t settle back in the same way… why exactly?”

“The Arasaka-AI I spoke to said the process I underwent couldn’t be reversed. My theory is that, since this specific Relic is a faulty prototype, it simply is incapable of kickstarting another process of rewiring my brain again. Or even if it could, my body has been through too much already to be able to take such radical adjustments.”

“Some radical measures may be needed indeed,” Fuentes said quietly, and V shivered, “But I am taking into account that you’re currently not in good health and we have to be careful. If you’re willing to accept my help still, of course.”

“I would like to hear out your plan at the very least,” V said, not trying to let his desperation show, “And, for my friends’ sake... maybe you can give me your opinion how bad it is. How much time I got left if things go on like they do currently.”

Fuentes nodded, then they both went quiet for a couple of seconds.

“This Arasaka-AI…” she broke the heavy silence, “Did it ever occur to you that it may have been lying about your condition?”

V thought about it for a moment.

“To gain what exactly?” he wondered.

“Not sure, just a thought,” Fuentes shrugged, “An AI created by Arasaka surely would act in Arasaka’s best interests. In this case, discourage you from leaving and carrying all their secrets out into the world.”

V shuddered, hoped that Fuentes didn’t notice it.

“The engram might’ve done it instead of me, had I given up my body,” he said, he hoped, “Besides, it’s a little bit more complicated than that with this particular AI. But that’s none of your concern.”

“Alright,” Fuentes nodded, “As I said, it was just a thought.”

She picked up her tablet again, read through her notes. Then she motioned to get up from her chair, setting the tablet back down, but hesitated.

“May I have a look at the chip?” she asked, still in her chair waiting for V’s okay. He froze.

“Just the slot, examine it externally,” she clarified, made tapping gestures.

V shifted in his seat slightly.

“I’d just… ask you to be careful.”

“Of course,” she nodded, then got up and slowly walked around her desk, past the bookshelves, coming to a halt to V’s right.

“May I?” she asked, smiling, and moving gently, as if she could sense his tension and fear. She probably could, to be fair. She motioned wanting to touch his head and neck, and after another couple of seconds of hesitation V nodded and turned his head away to bare his neck ports. Fuentes put one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his head, gently and slowly turning it to get a good look.

“Is this alright?” she made sure, “If at any point it hurts, let me know.”

“It’s fine,” V said, his voice much quieter and timid than he wanted. His whole body was tingling from tension and anxiety.

Fuentes’ hand wandered from the back of his neck to the ports behind his ear, embedded directly into his nervous system and connecting what was left of him on that chip with what was left of his body.

“This one?” she said, tapping beside the port that contained the Relic, and V shivered, his entire skin covered in goosebumps in an instant. He couldn’t reply.

“Does it hurt?” Fuentes asked gently, “It doesn’t look infected but…”

“Been having issues with these ports since I was a teen,” V explained briefly, “Didn’t take an upgrade well one time and ever since they’ve been prone to act up.”

“I see…” Fuentes nodded, “I bet slotting an experimental biochip in there didn’t improve the situation.”

“No...”

She let go of his head again and moved away slightly to give him space. V took a deep breath and almost reflexively his hand shot up to his neck, brushing over the slots as if to make sure they were still there.

Fuentes leaned against the edge of her desk, her arms crossed.

“You ever take the metro?” she asked after a pause, “Hang out in shady bars and dark alleys?”

“What?” V squinted up at her, hand still covering the Relic.

“I’m just wondering what you’re doing against picksockets,” she explained calmly, but her brow deeply furrowed with worry, “Or in general, any other protective measures you utilize to not have someone come up at you and yank this from your neck.”

V dropped his hand and began to fumble with his cast again.

“Doing everything in my power,” he said quietly at first, but at the same time, anger welled up in him. At his situation, not at the doctor necessarily.

“I’m well aware how risky it is to just step out the front door like a normal person, when my life is far from that. But… what’s the alternative? Lock myself up until I die?”

Fuentes nodded pensively, understandingly.

“You mentioned this therapy you tried… You think the medication has increased this feeling of apathy, of not being able to voice your thoughts clearly? How long since you’re not taking the pills anymore?”

“Just a day,” V said, not exactly happy about the topic change either.

“Do you feel clearer now than you did a few days ago?”

He paused to really think it through. His emotions were all over the place, the last few days had been an intense firework of horrible impressions and new, uncomfortable discoveries. He’d had troubles being honest with Kerry, although, their argument yesterday morning, even if it hurt, had been very straightforward. Much more so than many of the other conversations they’d had lately.

“I… can’t say for sure,” he said, “Maybe. But I’ve had clearer days in-between occasionally, too.”

“Alright,” Fuentes said, then she walked back to her chair to sit down. She looked at V intensely again for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t recall the last time he felt as naked while being fully clothed.

“Knowing your case a bit better now, I see two main problems. The first: the decline of your physical and mental health. Your deteriorating nervous system, seizures, depression, depersonalization, and so on. That is something I need to examine more closely, put you through some tests. And we have to run a whole bunch of scans, unfortunately. Some we can do today, but others take some time and require planning in advance.”

“Yay, tests and scans,” V said as unenthusiastically as possible, and he didn’t even have to try hard.

Fuentes chuckled.

“I know, you’ve probably been through that a lot with your previous doctors. If you still have their findings available, I’d love to see them, too.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” V said, raising his hand to slow Fuentes down, “But can you tell me like… in general if you have any plan, any idea of how to tackle this already? Just so I know where I’m at.”

In fact, he solely wanted, needed something concrete beyond “we need to do tests” that he could tell Kerry. A sliver of hope, a promise, maybe, that V didn’t need to keep but the doctor. He needed someone else who could take the blame if things went down south if he was being completely honest.

“That would bring me to your second main problem: the biochip continuously taking up a slot in an already strained system while being extremely exposed to external influences,” Fuentes said, “There’s a reason why these slots are not intended for long-term usage, and we rely on built-in cyberware solutions for permanent modification purposes. In your case, you currently have no other choice, of course. But it is still something that should be tackled in the short rather than the long term.”

Fuentes turned the tablet back on and opened V’s brain scans in a program that allowed her to draw onto the 3D-model, visualizing her ideas.

“I should preface this by saying that yes, your case is unique. I’ve never done anything like this before. I have an idea, but I need to do a lot of research and preparations first, still… and you can use that time to prepare everything else you feel you need to prepare… Just in case, if you catch my meaning.”

V swallowed.

“That invasive, then, huh?” he tried to joke to ease the tension. Fuentes smiled sadly. She drew some lines along the backside of the scan of V’s head.

“My current idea is to create a safer container and environment for the chip inside your skull,” she explained, “We can make use of the existing connections… it will have to stay in its port, obviously, but we can pull it inside as a whole and place it roughly here maybe.”

She drew a vertical line along the back of his skull, right at the base.

“The exact spot I’ll have to determine once I have a full scan of your system configuration, nervous system, and so on,” she added, “And yes, the procedure how I’m picturing it right now will be invasive, painful, probably leave scars… but it will contribute to stabilizing the Relic’s overall state, having it in a container actually designed to hold it long-term.”

“I see,” V said, but he struggled to take in the information, even though Fuentes seemed extremely confident and competent in the way she explained and sketched out her thoughts.

“In regard to your deteriorating health, well,” she said after a moment of contemplation, “As I said, I need to run tests first. We need to take as much strain from your body as possible, you need to rest, relax.”

“Easier said than done. There’s an BioDyne executive board member I’ve been asked to kill.”

Fuentes’ face twitched briefly, and she just nodded.

“I know,” she said, voice heavy, “But as I said, there may be no way around it.”

V frowned.

“I think the best way to tackle your health concerns, would be a modified version of the nanobots we used in our studies at BioDyne back then,” she explained, “They’re not the same anymore as the ones utilized in the current treatments, BioDyne heavily controls their usage too. Obviously. But I know for a fact that Sutter kept some of our prototypes to himself, secretly of course. Gloating, and so sure of himself he’d never be discovered.”

V was tempted to ask for a moment what Sutter would keep them for, but with the information he had on him currently, the answer was obvious: to sell them at a huge profit should things ever go awry with BioDyne. Every single person rising high enough in the ranks of a corporation had exit plans like this. Had V not spent his last 6 months at Arasaka high out of his mind most of the time, had he not invested his spare time and money into drugs and random hookups but an exit strategy, he probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Admittedly though, he wasn’t sure where he would be sitting instead, and if he’d be any happier or maybe even more miserable.

“And you could reprogram these prototypes to… reprogram my nervous system, fix all the damages, basically?” V concluded.

“That would be my approach, yes.”

He leaned back in his chair again, rubbed his forehead, his temples throbbing slightly.

“This therapy I tried,” he said, “The one with the bad side effects. I think that one utilized nanobots as well.”

Fuentes tilted her head.

“You think it utilized nanobots?” she asked, “Your doctor didn’t discuss their use with you?”

“It’s… complicated.”

He lowered his hand and looked back at her again.

“Believe me, the less you know about this, the better. But I think I was given something as part of a treatment that I shouldn’t have been given. And I’m not sure how much damage it did. So, I’m a little wary about nanobots reorganizing my brain.”

“Understandable…” Fuentes said tensely, “Well… I can assure you at least that I will not administer anything to you that I did not thoroughly discuss with you before. And have your consent on.”

V nodded weakly, shrugged. Words meant nothing, deeds meant everything.

Fuentes eyes wandered back to her tablet, the 3d model, her notes.

“I wish I had something a little more substantial to offer at this point,” she then said, “I think I could already make a clearer assessment once we’ve run some initial tests.”

V let their whole conversation play in his mind again, trying to think if there was anything left he needed clarification on, anything he forgot to mention that would be important.

“You said that Sutter likely still has the nanobots,” he said, “What makes you so sure that he didn’t sell them years ago?”

Fuentes shuffled slightly, as V seemed to have hit the mark once more.

“Alright, there is one thing I wasn’t entirely honest about,” she said, and V steeled himself for whatever was to come.

“Well, now’s the time to spill it,” he said calmly, “Or I’m out the door.”

Fuentes’ eyes told him that she knew he was bluffing, but she also had to know that this would sooner or later backfire if she didn’t tell the whole truth.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Sutter with the help of private investigators for years,” she explained, “As I said, he’s a slippery one, always extra sure to cover his tracks... But not impossible to find information on. Right before he disappeared off the face of the earth my P.I. at the time captured the video footage I already showed you, but… that’s just part of the clip. It goes on a bit further.”

“Where’s the rest of it?” V asked, but he knew the answer already.

“Not with me, not here, no,” she said, confirming his suspicion, “I can send it your way via some detours, just in case. But basically, he met with a businessman, and from what my P.I. told me and documented, I’m fairly certain he sold him the bots.”

V sighed.

“Then killing him will only be for your revenge purposes after all and not actually help me…”

Fuentes shook her head.

“No, no. He would still have the blueprints, I’m certain. He has to. He has a special memory chip, almost impossible to trace, that he kept all important data on that no one else should get their hands on.”

“In a ‘sell his nanobots but keep them too’ kinda way?” V asked, and Fuentes nodded.

“He prided himself with being so smart and playing everyone all the time. The chip is, according to him, pretty much unhackable, unretrievable. Killing him would instantly delete the chip’s contents, too, so, no point in doing that.”

“How to get your hands on it then?” V asked, “Cut it out of his body while he’s still alive?”

Fuentes said nothing, only looked down to her lap.

“Fantastic…” V sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Fuentes said, “There’s a reason I didn’t want to start off with this.”

“And you’re still not even sure if there is anything useful on the chip, mind you,” V said, trying to remain calm, “And you’ll still have to construct, reprogram, and get the nanobots working if I can get my hands on the blueprints at all. If I even manage to find Sutter. That is a lot of ifs in return for even more uncertainty.”

“Of course,” Fuentes said quietly, “I can promise you that constructing and adjusting the nanobots to work for your particular condition actually is not as complicated as it sounds. I would need a DNA sample from you from prior to the gunshot wound, but I’m relatively certain your profile is stored in your old Trauma Team records from your time at Arasaka.”

“Probably, yeah,” V said.

“There are means and ways, always,” Fuentes nodded.

“What if there are no blueprints, if he sold them together with the bots?”

“I could look into alternatives… constructing new bots from scratch would certainly take longer. A month or two but given your condition we might not have as long.”

“If I could get my hands on the bots from my therapy,” V suggested, “Could that help?”

Fuentes hummed.

“I would certainly like to take a look at them, yes. If only to tell you what exactly they’re doing and if they could be causing your symptoms.”

V shifted to reach into his jacket’s inner pocket, pulling out a ziplock bag with the pills coming from Mr. Blue Eyes. Fuentes’ expression was almost hilariously confused when he dropped the bag on the table.

“Don’t ask,” he said, “My Ripper thinks there’s nanobots embedded in these pills.”

“Not quite how you’d administer them, necessarily…” Fuentes mused as she picked up the bag and held it up against the light, “They’d have to dissolve over time or otherwise leave the body eventually, as you’d keep adding new ones by taking new pills. Not impossible, but the standard procedure is introducing them via the spine and extracting them again once their task is completed.”

“Everything about this whole situation is a special case,” V said, “I would say ‘I’d love to hear anything you figure out’… but actually, I’m not sure if I really do.”

Fuentes nodded sternly and put the pills away safely in the same secret compartment her shard on Sutter was stored in.

“I will have a look at them later,” she promised.

“Alright,” V said, holding on to the armrest with his healthy hand, “Anything else you can tell me that I need to know?”

“There is… one more thing,” Fuentes nodded, “I know where Sutter is.”

She paused, but V didn’t know what to respond.

“But you’ll still have to figure out how to get to him, I’m… drawing a blank on that.”

V squinted.

“You’re making it sound like he’s on the moon.”

Fuentes laughed weakly and tapped something into the search bar on her tablet.

“Almost.” she said. Then a familiar advertisement started playing on the screen.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

This one has been in the works since January, and chapter 14 is almost done actually, as I let this one here sit and stew a bit in between, dreading the editing xD Ngl, when it comes to the medical stuff I always struggle a bit, because I want it to be realistic, but I also have no clue about much xD I hope this isn't all too long-winded and was still an enjoyable read with some twists and turns as V and Dr. Fuentes try to always keep the upper hand against the other, subtly!

I really wanted to develop the doctor a little bit more, give her an interesting background and shady goals and have those all make sense in the grand scheme of things... Maybe you can already guess where her enemy Sutter's exit strategy led him to, where V has to follow soon? 👀

Next chapter out hopefully soon! :D

Requested Fic Update Tags:

@humberg @r3d-f0xs-blog @thatinternetwanderer @localtranspigeon @taiyo-yokai  @kharonion @genocidalfetus @seeker-of-truth @readalotbook @losttr3asur3 @chromeaholic💜

[geralallfandoms]

|JOEL MILLER|

○ Opportunity or misfortune ○

Joel Miller x female reader.

No use of y/n, In the story it is never said how old they are, be happy and choose the age you want. Before and after the apocalypse. Domestic violence, beatings, hospitals, fights, weapons (?, tlou things. (If there are more warnings I will say them in the corresponding chapter)

His strategy? move.

You moved all the time. As many times as necessary.

It was easy to keep the curious away from what was happening between you two. Keep them away from hitting and screaming.

This time you had gone even further. For some reason Lucas had decided on a house this time, a small house not far from the city but in a fairly small town.

The place was beautiful and quiet, the town needed work so you could try to convince Lucas to let you help with the expenses (and spend as much time as possible away from him.) It could have been a new beginning...a new opportunity...a change.

But the things had never changed and would not change.

You had already given Lucas opportunity after opportunity but he always came back to the same thing. He always returned to hitting, shouting and the threats.

And the story was always the same.

Or that's what you thought.

"Im going to the town... I saw signs that they needed employees in a cafeteria, I can work half a day at least so you won't have to go out as much and you can stay here at home longer..."

You knew it was the only way to convince him. Telling him that this way he could spend more time at home and not telling him that you needed your time or your space, your personal life, like you had told him that time and that it had ended too...badly.

"Of course, baby...but I don't want you too far from here, or away from home every day." He said as he took the car keys and probably went out to sleep with some other woman.

"Yep..." you said trying to smile.

He approached, left a kiss on your cheek and without saying anything left the house. You waited for the car to disappear to grab your things and go out to explore the town.

The people seemed friendly, everyone seemed to know each other. A great advantage of living in a small town and a great opportunity for this curse that followed you for years to finally come to an end.

When you entered the cafeteria, you stood behind a tall, robust man. He had a light brown jacket, construction boots, and jeans stained with dirt. Her head full of messy, uncontrollable curls that seemed to ignore his comands no matter how much gel he put on them.

He was looking at the list of options, carefully choosing the coffee he would have on a cold afternoon like this. When he saw that you were waiting behind him, he turned around and with a half smile on his face he stepped aside and let you pass.

"You advance if you want... I haven't decided yet." He said kindly.

"Oh...thank you." You responded without taking your eyes off the man.

When you arrived on the island, you asked him if the job was still available and for how many hours it was... but luckily for you, they were looking for someone who would stay all day, and you knew that was going to be impossible with Lucas. So you simply thanked him and started walking towards the exit.

When you were getting to the door, you heard someone calling you, and to your surprise it was the man who had let you pass in line.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't listen to other people's conversations, but... are you looking for a job?" he said a little shy.

You looked at him for a few seconds thinking about what to answer. You knew that if he asked you that it was because he had a job proposal, but you weren't sure if you wanted to risk working with a stranger... and much less with a man, knowing that if Lucas found out... he wouldn't like it. Not the idea at all.

"I...well...i-cant...i dont..."You said nervously, not knowing what excuse to give other than - I'm sorry, I can't work with a man because my husband is going to kill you if he finds out.-

"I'm sorry, I heard that you were asking about the job but that you could only do half a day and I... well, I have a daughter, she's not a baby but this month I'm going to be complicated with my job and I don't want to leave her alone for too long. .. I know I don't know you but..." He stayed silent when he saw that you didn't answer him... but it wasn't because you didn't want the job... you were actually thinking that if Lucas didn't find out where you were working, it might work.

"What do you think if we have a coffee and we talk about... ..."

"Sarah...and i'm Joel." He said as he shook your hand.

You told him your name as you held his hand.

Joel...It could mean one of two things, either it was going to be your exit door...or your entrance to hell.

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

Another update? incredible true? (Don't get excited, I don't know how long it will last.) I just did poorly on two exams and I'm a little depressed... I wanted to distract myself a little.

I hope you liked it!! Obviously there is going to be a second part (maybe more?) Tell me what you think!

Request are open!!

Ly💫

[ponds-of-ink]

Quick Scraptrap And Y/N Fic: “A Question Answered”

AKA “How to drive Scraptrap’s soul up the wall in five seconds with a simple hand hold”

So this concept crossed my mind today, and I thought it’d be funny to write a short scene about it. Have fun trying to put yourself in this Y/N’s shoes.

—

It was the standard routine for you: Man the office while Mike was out for coffee, ward off who—or whatever— was in the vents, then run out the door as soon as Mike walked back in. Ten minutes at worst, three minutes at best. Nothing to worry about there.

So then why was your mind racing when it should’ve been preparing some quips?

You shut your eyes and breathed deep. Memories of your fellow handy-folks’ conversations drowned out your growing anxiety— If only for a moment.

“So, you’d get anywhere with Ol’ Spring-Bones?” you can practically hear Joe ask one of the janitors.

“Not really,” you recall the janitor telling him. “He’s still insisting I have Tori dump a bucket of water on him. Something about his suit being a death trap if anyone touched it.”

“His whole body’s a death trap,” was one of the last things you heard Joe scoff before you moved to another room. Of course, this was only one of many conversations you heard about the oh-so-elusive Scraptrap. The numerous health requirements from both staff and the robot itself. The countless jokes from the janitors about the obvious degradation of the animatronic. Even your own reports on the off-chance he was the one attacking you that day. All of these, over time, built a strange reputation for him. A looming sense of dread whenever you heard him in the vents, a hint of pity whenever the cleaning requests put him in further isolation, and—weirdest of all—a strong curiosity about one particular subject.

What would happen if you held his hand?

You open your eyes, but keep your head low. One of your gloved hands picks up Mike’s pen and flicks it from side to side. Its clicking only makes your mood worse. “He’ll probably just hide in the vents like always,” you think as you stare listlessly. “He only climbs out of there to attack Mike— And that’s if he’s the only one in there.”

The pen leans to one side. You straighten up, getting ready to lean back in that chair.

A rhythmic thumping hits your left ear. You glance in that direction.

Either that’s him or his pigtailed protégée.

You roll the chair a bit closer to the vent.

The thumping keeps going. And, as far as you can tell, there’s no whirring of plastic wheels after each thunk. Not even after it stops completely.

Before your brain makes the full connection, unfortunately, you hear the source confirm your suspicions. “Did you miss me, Broomstick?” a raspy voice asks, its mocking tone drawing out each ‘s’. “It has been a while, but I was not expecting you to be anticipating me.”

The “nickname” jolts you back into reality. Then the rambling after it gives you an idea. “Scraptrap, the only thing I’ve missed is how quiet it gets when it’s just you around,” you huff, leaning back as you do your strongest eye-roll. “You’re so shy for a killer robot, it’s hysterical.”

You can practically hear the servos in Scraptrap’s head whirring. “Being ‘shy’ is not my intention when dealing with employees like you,” he snips, inching closer to the tiniest bit of light. “I am simply being practical. Tactical, even.”

“So what’s tactical about only letting Tori dump a bucket of water on you when it’s cleaning time?” you cut in, tugging your gloves down. “Or rejecting the main janitor’s idea of giving you a brush ‘bath’? Mike’s paid top-dollar for us, and we definitely know how to mess with horrors like you.”

All you catch is a nervous shiver, then a grumble.

“What was that?” you question flatly, even though your brain is starting to think of exit strategies.

Another shiver, though now it’s punctuated by an irritated sigh. “In that area. I am simply acting with practicality in mind,” he insists. “No need to drive M— your employer’s business into the ground with all the hospital bills he would accumulate. No matter how much you lot prepare, there is nothing to protect you from the rot of the undead.”

You stare at the shadowy figure. Though your expression stays the same, you feel a smile coming on. A smile that you can bet this dumb bunny’s pulled once or twice before. “Is that so?” you ask, using that as your cue to slowly rise to your feet.

In a matter of seconds, the nearly-visible rabbit starts retreating back into the shadows. You calmly walk to the side of the vent, but something seems to prompt Scraptrap to… fumble out of the vent seconds later. You peer down the shaft, but nothing else shows up.

You look back at Scraptrap. He’s using the office chair as a crutch, but the lack of a second arm really isn’t helping him get back to his feet. “Well, better this than risking getting stabbed,” you think as you start to approach.

Scraptrap, on the other hand, gives a furious glare. “I advise you to leave me be,” he says with a gnash of his robotic teeth. “It will take a moment, but you will be regretting all of your countless questions.”

You stop in front of him, then rest your arm on the chair. A full minute passes… And he’s still struggling. “I’m sure I’ll regret it once I’m in the hospital,” you respond, using your free arm to hoist him back up to his feet. “At least I’ll have a funny story to tell when I get back.”

The only response Scraptrap gives is a wide-eyed look towards your hand. And, yes, the both of you are holding hands currently. Given the circumstances, that didn’t really mean anything on your end. Just a happenstance of trying to help someone out, that’s all.

But for Scraptrap?

He must’ve not had basic human contact in years, because the rest of his body is trembling. You can hear the metallic parts of his bones rattling on top of the clearly-pounding heartbeat, that’s how extreme it is. It would be almost endearing if it wasn’t for how unnerving he looked when only his eyes freely move.

So you decide to help him out one more time. “You can let go now,” you tell him, clearing your throat to punctuate your sentence.

Thankfully, this seems to work. “Right,” Scraptrap mumbles before carefully unraveling his bony fingers from yours. “My apologies.”

“It’s all good,” you say with a nonchalant shrug. “Just try to make sure your arm’s wrapped around mine nexf time, all right?”

He’s back to the indistinct mumbling, but his body language tells you that he agrees. With a quickness you weren’t expecting, he hobbles past you and beelines for the other vent. You watch as he cautiously climbs back in, then looks back at you. “You may as well promise that we never speak of this until it is necessary,” he sneers.

With an extra amount of caution, you sit back down in the chair. “All right, but what do I tell Mike?” you inquire as you remove your gloves. “I’m sure you don’t want rumors spreading around the workplace.” You wink at the end of that last sentence just to rub it in.

“You simply tell the truth,” Scraptrap replies in a deadpan tone. “We got into a scuffle, I fell onto the floor, and you helped me back up. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So I can’t mention you hand-holding with Broomstick?” you pout.

Scraptrap just disappears into the darkness.

And, to be honest, that was probably the best response he could’ve given. It made you chuckle to yourself as you kept office-watching, it told you everything he wanted to without staying and fumbling his words like a shy schoolgirl, and it kept the other robots at bay in the long run. The smartest move all-round, if not the smartest he’s ever made.

..Now if only you could figure out why the office lights were threatening to shut off all of a sudden.

[rhythmantics]

Oh! God I can’t believe it never hit me to ask this til now lol but what do you think Xander and Karen’s relationship looked like? How do you think they got together?

warnings for the fact that xander is a horrible scumbag and a mentally ill, child-abused wretch. so. usual warnings for that apply.

so a couple things to note; the first is that karen is literally xander's employee - he's the lab's associate director, she's just a low-rank gene sequencer. Second thing to note is that although he's 29 and she's 34, according to the prima guide, xander was originally conceived of as being 35, so I think karen was intended to be younger than him (even if only by a year).

Either way, she's pretty demonstrably weak-willed (betrays alex after a beating, and is persuaded by xander to risk her life to steal something from the lab for him). I don't think she's a bad person; in fact, i think she is a very nice, normal person (like let's be totally real, which one of us would be able to stand up to BW), which makes her ultimate fate at Alex's hands both a huge tragedy and a major reminder that neither Alex nor Xander are good people. I do NOT think it's right to blame Dana's involvement at Xander's behest on him - they are equals in that partnership, more or less - but I DO think some of the blame for Karen's death falls on Xander's shoulders. And Alex's.

In short, Xander takes advantage of her. Given his history with his mother (Ms. "worse than foster care" Mercer), and his suite of Emotional Issues besides, I have a very hard time imagining him in a relationship of equals. And they aren't equal - she's not as smart as him, literally his employee, and implied to be more naïve and trusting. He absolutely seduced her, and there's no way he's not letting the implicit threat of her career hang over her.

They definitely don't live together. We know they have their own separate places, but it's likely Xander had 0 intention of ever living with her, because the entire living room space in his apartment is his office. Given that the Point of Karen's character is that she's SUPER NORMAL, any future where they wind up serious together is one where she'd desire, you know, an actual living room. An entertainment center. You can probably already imagine about how well that would go over with Xander, who's spent his whole life compromising, and sees his new job/income/lifestyle as freedom.

That said, there is no overt abuse in their relationship. Xander has an Image, he has Standards, he hates his mother so much that he strives to be her opposite as much as possible. He would never raise a hand to Karen, but you don't need to be violent to exert control on a partner. I imagine he uses more subtle tactics. The fact that he's so beloved around his office that people would take his word over hers. The fact that he can and will use his horrific backstory to guilt-trip and justify any poor behavior toward her. The fact that he's clever enough and a good enough actor to - quite literally - gaslight. So on.

I think Karen actually thought she was very close to him, very intimate. He'd have framed his usage of his backstory as "opening up," or vulnerability, even though he's very cognizantly using it to make her feel like she was special, was fixing him. He'd put off talks of marriage or cohabitation with excuses of "not being ready" and "needing more time to learn how to trust people" while cognizant that he was never planning to let her move in, never. In many ways, he's the perfect partner, never forgetting a birthday or anniversary, always taking her out to nice places and getting her the things she wants/saying what she wants to hear, while ensuring he always has a leash on her and an exit strategy planned.

And the thing about Xander I find kind of fascinating is that he's motivated by contradictory forces. Xander is NOT a ~dark and twisted cycle path~ with no empathy or capacity to care for others; rather, he's someone with Severe PTSD who was literally in a survival situation for basically his entire life, with no trustworthy caregivers and practically 0 emotional nurturing.

It's not that he only sees her as a sex object - rather, Xander has a deep, deep craving for love and intimacy, and then screws himself over in that regard, because he doesn't feel "safe" if he isn't in total control, and he feels compelled to abandon other people before they can hurt him by abandoning him.

All relationships to him - even for his sister, who is "the only person he can trust" according to his prima bio (karen doesnt even make that list lol) - are functionally over before they begin. He expects the worst out of people - that they are liars, betrayers, cheaters, abandoners, insensitive, ignorant, and cruel - and then deliberately pushes the people around him to prove him right. Then he burns bridges, holds grudges, resents people. In Karen's case, he'll do things like deliberately not mention his birthday, because he's testing to see if she'll even care to remember (and if she doesn't, well, look at how cruel and insensitive she is, he was right to think that about her). If she does remember, he'll judge her on the quality of the gift she gets him compared to what he gets her (he's constantly psychoanalyzing and compiling mental dossiers on the people around him in case he needs to retaliate, which has the side effect of making him a REALLY GOOD GIFT-GIVER). And if it doesn't measure up (and it won't, because he doesn't actually open up to people, so how are they supposed to know what he wants), then that's "proof" that she's a dumb little sheeple, who doesn't care about anyone but herself, etc. etc.

But the core of this kind of resentment and hypercriticality is fundamentally that he craves acknowledgement, affection, validation, and emotional nurturing, things that he was deprived of growing up. The fact that he's so manipulative actually contributes to his despair; he hates that people fall for it, that (in his eyes) "they only see what they WANT to see," that he can ruin lives and destroy careers just by putting on a fake smile or pantomiming being hurt. It drives him crazy that he can get away with it.

At his core, Xander hates himself. Ten years of foster care and ten more years of child abuse have completely fucked up his internal self-image; he fundamentally conceives of himself as a worthless piece of trash that can easily be discarded as soon as anyone sees "the truth" (like he was in foster care), and/or as a weak, pathetic, inherently unlovable target and victim (as he was living with his mother). That's why he has to constantly self-aggrandize, say things like "I'm always right," train his body, avoid drugs and alcohol, put others down - he's constantly teetering on the edge of despair, a wounded animal still actively bleeding from welts that won't heal, in a world that has taught him that other people will hurt him. It's also why he goes Beast Mode on even minor perceived threats to his intellect or competence - what other people might see as a harmless jab, he perceives as a mortal threat. And given the fragility of his emotional state, it very well might be!

So what he gets out of Karen isn't pure physical gratification (although there is that). It's oddly contradictory, but to him, Karen is a symbol of "making it" - she's a hot young blonde with a PhD and a stable job, whom he can easily control (and is thus "safe"), who is madly in love with him. On the other hand, it's all fake, she doesn't actually care about him, just the fake persona he adopts toward her, NOBODY will ever actually care about him, EVERYONE sucks and he HATES THEM ALL. It's practically a form of self-harm.

So I don't think he's ever outwardly done anything to harm Karen. In fact, I think Karen thought she had, like, the PERFECT boyfriend, if only he was more open to the idea of moving in and getting married (but it's okay, she's fixing him). But I do think it was always 🤏 this close to BECOMING toxic and horrible, and Karen never had any clue.

TL;DR: Xander has many Big Feelings and most of them are hatred

[watsername]

specifically he said if his funds weren't enough to pay all of his employees that the server would shut down. which sounds like both a guilt trip for fans and the buildup of an exit strategy if things continue to go south

it is definitely a guilt trip he wants more donos bc he knows the fans care more about those eggs than their own families and it’s proving like his funds aren’t enough since ppl are being paid less than minimum wage if at all so like . pull the plug girl .

[lucaspaqueta007]

How to Find the Ideal Commercial Real Estate for Rent Near Me: A Step-by-Step Guide

Securing the right commercial real estate is a critical decision that can significantly impact the success of your business. Whether you're a startup searching for your first office, a retailer looking to expand, or a business owner in need of a warehouse, finding the perfect commercial space requires careful planning and research. This guide will walk you through the essential steps to finding the best "Commercial Real Estate for Rent Near Me," ensuring you make an informed decision. Commercial Real Estate for Rent Near Me

1. Identify Your Business Needs

Before you begin your search, it's crucial to clearly define what you need from your commercial space. Consider the following factors:

Size and Layout: How much square footage do you need? What layout will best suit your operations?

Location: Which areas are most convenient for your customers, employees, and suppliers?

Budget: What is your price range, including rent, utilities, and other expenses?

Amenities: Are there specific features or services that your business requires, such as parking, security, or high-speed internet?

2. Research the Local Market

Understanding the local commercial real estate market is essential for finding the best options. Use the following strategies:

Online Listings: Start by searching online for "Commercial Real Estate for Rent Near Me." Websites like LoopNet, Zillow, and local real estate agencies often have comprehensive listings.

Commercial Real Estate Brokers: Consider hiring a broker who specializes in commercial properties in your area. They can provide valuable insights and help you find properties that meet your criteria.

Market Trends: Stay informed about local market trends, including average rental rates, vacancy rates, and new developments. This knowledge can help you negotiate better terms.

3. Visit Potential Spaces

Once you've shortlisted a few properties, schedule visits to assess them in person. During your visit:

Evaluate the Location: Is it easily accessible? Is there enough foot traffic if needed? How is the neighborhood?

Inspect the Property: Look for any signs of wear and tear, and assess the overall condition of the building.

Check Compliance: Ensure that the space complies with local zoning laws and building codes. You may need to verify if the property is suitable for your specific type of business.

Consider Future Growth: Choose a space that can accommodate your business as it grows. Flexibility in the lease terms can be beneficial.

4. Negotiate the Lease

After finding the ideal space, the next step is to negotiate the lease terms. Here’s what to consider:

Lease Length: Determine the ideal duration of the lease. Longer leases may offer stability, while shorter leases provide flexibility.

Rent Increases: Understand how rent will increase over time and whether there are caps on these increases.

Maintenance Responsibilities: Clarify who is responsible for repairs and maintenance—landlord or tenant.

Exit Clauses: Ensure there are clear terms regarding breaking the lease if necessary.

5. Finalizing the Deal

Before signing the lease, take the following precautions:

Legal Review: Have a legal professional review the lease to ensure it protects your interests.

Get Everything in Writing: Any verbal agreements or promises made during negotiations should be documented in the lease.

Insurance: Arrange for the necessary insurance coverage for your new business space.

6. Prepare for Move-In

Once the lease is signed, start preparing for the move. Consider the following:

Renovations: If the space needs modifications to fit your business, coordinate these before moving in.

Utilities and Services: Set up utilities, internet, and any other essential services in advance.

Furnishing and Equipment: Plan the layout and order any furniture or equipment needed for your operations.

Conclusion

Finding the best "Commercial Real Estate for Rent Near Me" requires time, research, and careful consideration of your business needs. By following these steps, you can secure a space that not only meets your current requirements but also supports your long-term business goals. Remember, the right location and setup can make a significant difference in your business’s success, so take the time to find the perfect fit.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also it's something (better) like, the exercise of deliberately [art imitates life imitates art] holding up Billions to My IRL Things Perspective and going like whaaat would i want for winston. first answer is you want any character to not have been within the scope of the show in the first place, and to exit it since they are. and you kind of get that in the accidental reward in banishing winston, since like in the end it's just that the show doesn't care about him existing at that point But like it's winston sitting there quietly as everyone leaves & turns out the lights & Then he can leave too; others have peaced out & nobody remembers he exists so Now he can go off & do whatever.

but like in true form i think they definitely accidentally baked in another divine reward for winston in that, like, the way he's kept around as fodder for these fun little [pov: enjoy abusing this guy] asides with him, where it Just So Happens that he's autistic as something they're unaware of but is completely relevant to the expectation we understand him to be inferior(tm), it Just So Happens that he's also ""bad"" at not ""causing"" abuse to be turned on him. he's ""bad"" at staying in line. like well yes Yes that's what i want for him. just like In Real Life it's like yeah Ideally i'd want people to be able to extricate themselves from where they're trapped in power structures & i'd want them to have the perspective about it of understanding they're not Inferior / i.e. they are as much a person as anyone else and they're not corrupting everything good / i.e. it wasn't them Bringing It Upon Themselves and it's not them being Destructive by toppling a jenga tower of a hierarchy that happened to be pressing down on them. and winston is the kind of [the ruinerrrrrr] who is Turned On exactly because he keeps acting like someone who's on the verge of breaking out of the [being in line] someone demands of him as autist, employee, whatever other supposed manifestations of [inferior]

like in the 5 second stretches in which winston's allowed to speak before retaliation, it's because he's like "matter of factly" delivering whatever Information that's useful for another plotline. then he Brings It Upon Himself by making people aware that he's Also existing in his own right as a person rather than what they think serves their own deal / what they want from him at all times, perhaps by expressing his personality (didn't appeal to them! so it was Wrong) or not b/c of anything in particular said or done at present, just b/c people have a constant / accumulating contempt for him so their being in the same room as him & able to see & hear him is already dangerous. the [we're just seeing Any Abusive Dynamic in action] continuing apace.

and it's like, well, right there. he's written as acting like someone who doesn't blame himself for how he's treated, which billions frames as being Rude & Mean, and so too does everyone's abusers lmfao like and that these are his moments that are written to be Bringing It Upon Himself. and it's like hell yeah he doesn't blame himself. hell yeah that his self-esteem can manifest as anger at all. hell yeah that he keeps expressing himself with personality & confidence & doesn't even disguise his having been hurt, & it's this [his ass is Not grey rocking] that billions frames as both him "causing" his abuse & making that abuse "successful" lol, wrow just like real life!! and when like speaking of real life yeah it's not "bad" that people Do engage in strategies to mitigate & survive, including things like blaming themselves or being too "boring" to be anything but a non dialogued background character b/c that's all that goes unpunished, it's bad b/c it's done to them at all, not [ohh they're doing it to themselvesss] and like i'm asking myself like Ideally. what do i want Ideally. and i'd want winston to know that it's being Done To Him & i'd want him to find as much room for his personhood & autonomy as possible. and that's basically how he's written anyways, and billions hates that like You See this is why he deserves it this is why he's doing it to himself. and i'm like my god if that's not Inspiration for like "so what if people don't find you Personally Likable" and not preemptively holding back all personality or anything that'd draw attention as if you exist as a person in your own right & not something that only either gets in the way of or serves their wants of a Real person (someone with more power) like hell yeah you have him out here doing it =']

another fun addendum is like, billions isn't getting into it much b/c it doesn't seem to care much about "what if some people were peers & seem to have a genuine, recipcrocal relationship?" but that it just so happened to be like "oh tuk as the next closest loser who deserves it might be nice to winston" while it's framing winston as the "worse" Loser as being....unconditionally supportive of tuk. while the one downside of billions Also giving bentuk as much as it is is that it also inevitably has that shadow of "but ben is Superior to tuk" and like that it's correct that everyone encourages tuk to Stop Bringing It Upon Himself and start being less of a loser; it's wrong for winston to be like hey let's go have a foursome. like yeah probably don't make a list of the women you work with you'd be dtf but it's not like i'm convinced "ah billions and it's strong anti misogyny stance like" roflmao and billions is Not reflecting on "the downsides of unconditional support?" there when winston was beaten up for criticising taylor earlier like we WILL take his ideas while looting his [beaten unconscious] body there but he WAS wrong to express them as though he's BETTER than taylor!!! mafee's beautiful show of loyalty in kicking his ass even when he might agree with the argument and then benefit when it's adopted by taylor anyways! so it's as usual actually purely based on hierarchy & who gets to be in charge of people. it's correct for ben to be in charge of tuk, unless he has to step aside for that bizarre dead-end subplot about how it's tuk's fault if he's treated badly, b/c it's really his own Failure to have Confidence to know he has good ideas [raising our voice to deliver this message over the sound of breaking desks and chairs and computer monitors over winston because he had the confidence to act like he deserved to talk to someone and because he knows his ideas efforts & results are good & valuable around there] like. and isn't it sooo fucked up to talk about who you're dtf in the episode that has it be neutral if your boss is dtf & lets you know but is nice about it (and you're already Correctly tending to their ego, which you're responsible for!) like hey no possible problem! it's not even so much of a problem for a boss man to have the sex they're entitled to & be rude about their leveraging their power in that acquisition that it Stays a problem into the next season. ew, winston is Known (Inferred) Dtf??? we'll use it to exploit His vulnerability, exacerbate it, & punish him further for good measure in another episode that just revels in abuse & violation with a sexual aspect once again, but like, hey tuk don't do that, winston's such a Bad Influence for being like, shrug, kneejerk intervening with the Good Friendship where the One In Charge leaps in & Tells tuk the Correct thing to do. obviously there's also the tragedy that billions will Never let winston push back against Real Winners like rian or taylor in A Way That Matters (actually gets in their way at all) lol like. one thing that would have really been fun, winston should've literal kneejerk started physically fighting wags in either pertinent scene in 7x03 for real 110%. i wouldn't be like Gasp Violence Is Never The Answer if he just hit someone to hit them b/c fuck you. or broke anything on his way out etc etc. billions would Never let him. which is the other side of the same coin of [why he should get to]

tl;dr how great that winston's being "out of line" means he's basically always noticeably flouting & rebelling against the [He Deserves Abuse] agenda lol. that IS what i want. his being "beyond hope" like ohhh he's sooo stupid he doesn't realize how much he has the bad tastes & wrong interests & annoying personality He Will Always Be This Way like hell yeah!!! billions like oh no winston's personhood will never stay tamped down & locked away such that some godawful person tolerates keeping him in their inventory :( ohhh the ABA will never work :( that's right!!!!!!!!!! although they're not sad about it because it's about relishing the promise there will always be True Inferiors you can enjoy abusing with your righteous power over, but like well you wrote him escaping anyways even while dragging other "better" characters into standing around to serve axe's need for more than 1.8 employees and [crickets, reverberating cough, sneaker scuff] like. another ""wrong"" thing for winston to do, another thing for him to not "deserve," which is itself godawful actually lol like lord what it "rewards" its Good, Deserving characters with, no thanks. meanwhile winston's punishment is that he's autistic and """bad""" at being abused like lmfao good for him, fantastic for him, just what i want

[nando161mando]

Barnes and Noble CEO lied to employees about yearly earnings to withhold raises/bonuses.

Link to the article where James Daunt talks about earning more in 2023 than previous years:

I'm amazed this isn't getting the traction it really should. From my understanding, the majority of the company were told we didn't meet sales expectations for last year to earn any raises or bonuses. With how much else is constantly breaking down and being restricted, it at least felt genuine that the company wasn't doing well.

But now our CEO openly shared that we had the best sales in 2023 over any previous year, and that he's expecting more traffic. He blatantly lied to the employees, especially those on the book floors, about our earnings in order to raise his income at the expense of everyone else. We have stores with broken registers, broken AC, broken escalators, broken tables and have yet to see any assistance with those, the things the actual workers deal with.

Or worse, he's shared false information with a major news source in order to make it seem like the business is in better shape than it is. My best guess to why is likely to get more people invested in the stocks.

Either way, this man who supposedly cares about his workers, has done nothing but bring difficulties and frustration with his choices. He refused to give any raises until he was called out for buying a bookstore out of bankruptcy, and then decided one dollar is enough of a raise to disperse. I quit my position today after reading this and sharing it with my fellow employees, and I hope I'm not the only one.

I fully understand how few people are in a position to be able to just quit on the spot, and I'm not in the greatest space for it myself, but with this being our "leadership" we're maybe months from mass layoffs and withheld wages. He's only going to become more greedy and make conditions worse.

I seriously urge any and everyone to start preparing exit strategies and prepare for the potential worst.

Leaving that environment and system in mass is the only way to make change big enough that Daunt actually feels it. This refusal to pay employees appropriately compared to the rising inflation is getting way too common, and it will wreck social standards even more than they already are.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Toontown: Corporate Clash Recap: The Director's Cuts

Recently, the Chairman released a notice that the Boardbot department would be overhauled, with most of its workers being laid off as new employees were hired to replace them.

Desperate to save their jobs, the soon-to-be fired Boardbots invaded Toontown and worked with a mysterious informant to try and get access to the profiles of the incoming Boardbots.

They even started showing up to provide back-up to the other Department’s Bosses to try and kiss up to the higher ups.

As more and more Boardbots were defeated, Winn Dos (a Yellow Koala in the Toon Resistance) of the Toon Resistance was able to uncover the log-in credentials of all of the new Cogs, with the final Cogs’ credentials being recovered at 1,000,000 Boardbots defeated.

In the final day before the new employees would be onboarded, the Boardbots launched a full-scale invasion of Toontown, taking over every Neighborhood except Toontown Central, replacing most of the Cogs you could find in any context, with a handful of exceptions covered in the ARG’s article.

However, it wasn’t enough to save their jobs, and with 2,313,734 Boardbots defeated over the course of the event, they were all fired, with the new hires replacing them for the remainder of the event’s runtime (and no more in-game milestone tracking).

We now have a whole new variety of Cogs to go over, as the Con Artists, Conoissuers, Swindlers, Toxic Managers, and Big Fish (the former Tier 7 Boardbots, I never got to introducing them), have all been fired and replaced with new Cogs.

Bagholder

Levels: 1-5

Department: Boardbot

Position: Employee

Honorifics: Mr.

Likes: Pettiness, Speculation, Hoarding

Dislikes: Playing Fair, Letting Go

The Bagholder has a face and mustache that looks kinda like a green Wario with a 5 o’ clock shadow, and also wears some kinda bowler hat/derby hat/I don’t know hats okay. He’s also, like most Tier 1 Cogs, short and fat.

The Bagholder also has access to the following attacks:

Pickpocket: Yoinks a dollar bill out of a single Toon’s pocket, dealing damage.

Sacked: Throws a stack on top of a single Toon, squishing them to deal damage.

Rubber Stamp: Inks up a stamp on one of those stamp ink-pad things and then stamps the air in front of him, sending the stamps impression towards a single Toon to deal damage.

Short Squeeze: The Bagholder makes a grabby motion at the air in front of him to telekinetically grab a single Toon, then moves his hands up and down to shake a lot of coins out of the Toon’s pockets, dealing damage.

Levels: 2-6

Department: Boardbot

Position: Employee

Honorifics: Mr.

Likes: Exit Strategies, Folding

Dislikes: Risky Ventures, Water

Paper Hands

The Paper Hands is a lanky Cog who looks kinda like someone decided to make Octodad out of wads of paper and then slapped a pair of glasses on his face.

His attacks are as follows:

Short Squeeze: See above.

Fountain Pen: Sprays a single toon with a stream of ink.

Write Off: Takes out a pad of paper and scribbles a checkmark that he then flings off the paper and at a single Toon.

Rolodex: Fingers through all the cards, sending them flying at a single Toon.

Market Crash: Takes out a newspaper reporting on a market crash and throws it to crush a single Toon.

Levels: 3-7

Department: Boardbot

Position: Employee

Honorifics: Mx./Mr./Ms.

Likes: Newspapers, the Dark

Dislikes: Tin Foil, Chat-chat

Insider

The Insider is a small, thin Cog who’s features are obscured by shadow, save for their eyes. Their suit has a high color and fedora that almost completely covers their head. It’s like they’re a living shadow with eyes who decided to put on a Boardbot suit.

They also served as the main antagonist of the Director’s Cut ARG, having tricked the offboarded Boardbots into violating company policy in order to guarantee their termination and secure the new Boardbots their position, so they’re clever in spite of being a low-ranking Cog. They were the last new Boardbot design revealed at the end of the ARG, while the rest were introduced in order of rank.

Their attacks are as follows:

Pick Pocket: Same as when the Bagholder does it.

Blue Chip: The Insider takes a blue poker chip out of his pocket and flips it towards her target. As it soars through the air, the chip grows large enough to crush the targeted Toon on impact.

Power Trip: Insider wiggles their fingers to send sparkles that’ll trip up all the Toons.

Hang Up: The Insider takes out a phone, presses several keys, and then hangs up, dealing damage to a single target.

Levels: 4-8

Department: Boardbot

Position: Employee

Honorifics: Mr.

Likes: Wire Cutters, Power Surges

Dislikes: Tangled Wires, Blackouts

Circuit Breaker

The Circuit Breaker is uh…

Let’s see, he looks like he’s wearing glasses, his neck and lower jaw combined look like a screw. There’s a coil of yellow cables where his mouth should be. The top half of his head looks like a cross between a top hat and a battery. He appears to be wearing glasses. He’s got angry eyebrows. There’s a screw with a wire coiled around it sticking out of the top of his head.

Y’know what, I’ll just link all their wiki articles at the end of this submission and we’ll see if you can make sense of how weird they all look.

Anyways, ATTACKS:

Power Trip: Already went over this.

Falling Knife: User throws a knife into the sky. It comes down, point first, on a single Toon.

Brain Storm: User conjures a storm cloud and sends it to a single Toon, where it thunders and every raindrop is replaced with the phrase “Outside the Box”.

Quake: The user hops in place several times, shaking the ground to damage multiple Toons.

Levels: 5-9

Department: Boardbot

Position: Employee

Honorifics: Mr./Ms.

Likes: Getting His Way, Standing His Ground

Dislikes: Opposition, Letting Things Go

Deadlock

The Deadlock’s name is pretty self explanatory. She’s got a patchwork head that’s shaped like a padlock, tiny eyes, a little keyhole on his little nose, sealed latch atop her head that indicates he is locked, and a massive underbite that takes up the lower half of her rusting head. He’s also got a chain dangling out of her mouth.

She’s a big one, and pretty dang intimidating at that.

As for his attacks?

Red Tape: Throws a roll of red tape at a single Toon, binding them for a few seconds to deal damage if it connects.

Short Squeeze: We’ve been over this before.

Evil Eye: Glares at a single Toon to summon a giant, evil, disembodied eye that flies right at the target.

Guilt Trip: Same as Power Trip.

Glower Power: Literally glares daggers at a single target.

And that covers all of the Boardbots that can be encountered in Toontown Central and Barnacle Boatyard. The remaining three will be covered in future neighborhoods. Next time, we cover three Sidetasks from Barnacle Boatyard. See ya then!

Bonus: Wiki Articles

Bagholder

Paper Hands

Insider

Circuit Breaker

Deadlock

The Director’s Cuts

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Paper hands absolutely looks like octodad oh my god