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kiiyunz · 7 months ago

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posted⠀by⠀junjiie⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀8th April,⠀2O24.

No-one’s journey through idol life is going to be all sunshine & rainbows, and that’s a fact I think we should all make peace with as soon as possible. If you’re going to type out a comment screaming bloody murder about how your favourite’s whole career has been nothing but shiny and perfect, then all I have to say to you is that I’m sure there’s been a whole number of not-shiny and not-perfect things going on when the cameras are off. Sorry. It’s just the truth. Probably. But I’m not here to talk about your favourite, I’m here to talk about mine. So, without further ado, strap yourself in for a run-down of IM KIHYUN throughout the years of NCT DREAM’s career—ranked on a three point scale: the GOOD, the BAD, and of course, the REALLY, REALLY UGLY.

CHEWING GUM 2016 FRUIT PUNCH & BUBBLE MIXTURE

15-YEAR-OLD-KIHYUN had three lines in their debut single, a yellow hoverboard, and a dream—literally, considering the name of his unit. He was every bit the mood maker most people know him as today, filled to the brim with excitement and a sense of self-confidence that some people may have thought he would’ve lacked. While he hadn’t fully settled into himself just yet, still had voice cracks, and acne breakouts he’d stubbornly refuse to be filmed with while suffering through, and bouts of clumsiness that would leave him with bruises all over his elbows and plasters on his knees, for the most part it felt like he was an experienced performer rather than a just-arrived rookie. Most people immediately took a liking to him, and although his popularity wasn’t as sky-high as some of his fellow members, the fans he did have were a force to be reckoned with right from the start.

But whether you loved him or hated him, the one thing that everyone seemed to take notice of was the way he just looked like he loved performing on every single occasion, putting everything he had into every stage even with the little amount of time he was given to show off both himself & his budding talent to the people watching. His stage presence was compared to a breath of fresh air on a summer’s day, the wide grin he aimed at the cameras at any given opportunity one that aimed to brighten the mood of anyone witnessing it, and the enthusiasm with which he delivered his lines was something that even the harshest of critics could give a nod of acknowledgement to. Altogether, it’s widely agreed that CHEWING GUM for Kihyun was a GOOD era, on our three point scale.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MU-BEYOND

Kihyun very obviously and very fiercely despising the way his hair was styled for one of the photoshoots, and making no attempt to hide it. As soon as the camera flashes stopped, gone was his sunshine smile, and in its place was a look that, if they could kill, would have put the photographer six feet under (even if the poor man would’ve had no say in how it was styled in the first place). While a few of the other members were enjoying themselves on the glossy pink bouncing balls they were perched on, as soon as it was announced they were done Kihyun was shooting up and making a runner for the bathroom, shooting the camera a glare and tugging on a few strands of his hair as he went. Chenle could be seen cracking up in the near background, creased over from the force of his laughter. Kihyun yelled something back at him, but whatever it was was drowned out by the editors with the persistent ‘Chew-chew-chew-chew chewing gum’ over the top of the footage, seemingly growing a little louder in order to hide his words.

THE FIRST 2017 BAD HAIR & BASKETBALL

(STILL) 15-YEAR-OLD-KIHYUN had blue frosted tips and a tendency to get distracted on the music video set, far more interested in shooting hoops than dancing around in the school band-like outfit they were being made to wear and singing about being in head-over-heels in love with his teacher. He was still every bit the burst of energy he was previously, still throwing his all into everything he did, but it was obvious to some he’d rather be doing other things if he could. The whole riding-cardboard-cars-around was something he loved, though, and he stated more than once that was his favourite part by a mile. Kihyun was mostly the same as he was during the CHEWING GUM era in terms of performance, confidence, and the like—although it was noted by most that there was a little less of his occasional clumsiness, more stability in himself than there was previously. His popularity grew alongside the group’s, his consistent charm and apparent natural talent to draw people in appealing to many a new fan.

He slowly began to make more of a presence online during the MY FIRST AND LAST era, also. Posting both little messages and various photos of himself & the members (mainly in embarrassing positions, such as being half-asleep or making weird faces) on Twitter, interacting with fans whenever he could, and dragging out conversations for as long as he was allowed at fansigns, until the poor person in front of him was practically dragged along to the next member. And when there were more sides of him being shown to the public (and the internet, especially), there were more people waiting to pick apart every piece of him. While his popularity grew, the amount of people against him shot up in numbers, too. It wasn’t overwhelmingly bad, but there were a fair few who accused him of trying to take the spotlight too often, or being ungrateful for the opportunities he was being given after they’d heard the few comments he’d made here and there about the comeback’s concept not being his favourite. Still, despite these lower moments, there were still more pros than cons, and so MY FIRST AND LAST is another era ranked GOOD for Kihyun.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MFAL FIRST WIN

He was so caught up in tugging at the various buttons and pins stuck onto his ugly blazer that he barely heard the MC announcing their win until all the other members were jumping around and crying and patting each other on the back. Kihyun himself didn’t cry until backstage, when it finally hit him properly that they’d actually won, so in the moment he was more so just a little confused and dazed than anything else as he celebrated with the rest, not-so-subtly trying to take the trophy out of Mark’s hands while he made his speech so he could get a better look at it, wrapping Jeno in a hug so tight it left them both wheezing, trying to jump on Jisung’s back in an attempt to get him to cheer up, and also making a whole host of excited gestures and faces over at the members of 127 across the stage.

WE YOUNG 2017 FUN IN THE SUN!

KIHYUN (NOW 16) loved every second of this era, and that was something you could make out from space. Even with his now-pink-streaked hair and sailor outfits they were being made to wear, he declared the music from the WE YOUNG era as his favourite thus far. It was just pure fun, simple as that. He enjoyed every performance they did, sang all his lines with a grin so wide it nearly split his lips, was as playful as ever with all the members, and simply let loose a little more, losing himself in the music rather than what people were saying about it. Despite him not overly loving the whole sailor concept, fans were of the opinion that he was one of the ones that pulled it off the best, and so he begrudgingly posted photos of him in the get-up as often as he could—to an overwhelmingly positive response every time. The public noticed that, while still not fully grown, Kihyun’s self-confidence seemed to be at an all-time-high. He really did look like he was just happy to be there, and his supporters couldn’t have been more glad about it.

What also made his fans happy was his amount of lines getting a boost. He’d consistently been receiving around three or four, five at a stretch, but now it was reaching into the sixes and sevens—which, really, was barely an upgrade, but it made a world of difference to fans of his. It gave him more of a chance to show off his vocal ability, and brought more attention to him from both the public & critics. It also just made him happy, to be able to spend more than ten minutes in the recording studio, to be given more of a chance to show off how he’d grown and improved so far (even if he still thought he had a ways to go before he reached the level of his role models, his own idols). WE YOUNG was yet another GOOD era for Kihyun by miles, with barely any pitfalls in sight, and probably his highest so far.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: COMEBACK SHOWCASE

He was jumping all over the stage throughout every performance, throwing everything he had (and probably more) into every line he sang and every move he executed. It was clear he was trying his hardest to contain himself, trying not to scream every one of his lines into the mic or trip himself up, but it was also clear he was struggling. He was also as clingy as anything towards the rest, always hanging off of someone’s back or linking their arms together while they were walking. There was never a shot of him without a smile on his face, never anything he did that made it feel like he’d rather be elsewhere. His enthusiasm and excitement was almost infectious, leaking out of the screen to put a smile on the face of whoever was watching along.

WE GO UP 2018 BREAKDANCING & BEANIES

NEARLY-ADULT (AKA.. 17-YEAR-OLD) KIHYUN seemed to be reaching for maturity a little too fast, fingers outstretched towards his eighteenth birthday and desperate for the months to pass by just a little faster. He had decided, somewhere along the line, that he was ready to be rid of the cuter concept the group was intended to present, and was more than ready for a switch-up. And while WE GO UP wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for, there was certainly less of the more childish aspects that were seen in their previous releases—which was both an acknowledgement of all the members growing older and also something that served as a reminder of Mark’s upcoming graduation from the group, which Kihyun would’ve rather done anything but think about. Still, while he didn’t put as much of his all into it as he had done in the past, he still put a fair amount of effort into the lines he was given (which were lessened once again, to the disappointment of many) and choreography they were made to learn. Fans noted that his personal style was beginning to develop in the WE GO UP era, their suspicions of Kihyun dressing himself confirmed when he mentioned here and there that most of his non-schedule outfits were his own.

The introduction of Bubble helped to boost Kihyun’s online presence, something that had fluctuated from era-to-era thus far (his highest amount of interactions previously being within the MY FIRST AND LAST era), and while he didn’t use it all the time, he still made an effort to communicate regularly with those who’d signed up when he could. He shared his inner reasonings on his online presence with those who were asking—saying that if he didn’t like the concept of the comeback too much he would compensate by being online and able to interact more. It’s a rule he’s mostly stuck with over the years, and fans have now said it’s easy to tell when Kihyun hates a concept because they’ll wake up with three new Twitter posts and ten times as many Bubble updates. So on the whole, although it was definitely on the lower end of the spectrum, WE GO UP is considered yet another GOOD era for Kihyun—making that a four-long streak (that—apologies for spoilers—was going to be broken fairly soon).

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: FIRST SOLO LIVE

It was, to put it plainly, a little bit all over the place. He held it in his dorm room, half asleep but still managing to be every bit the charismatic personality most people knew and loved him for. He answered any questions threw at him with total honesty, didn’t hold his tongue when talking about various subjects that others may have (namely his personal thoughts & opinions on the comeback as whole—this live was where many found out he didn’t like it as much as they thought he did), and also showed a side to him that the majority hadn’t been able to see as much of before. He gave song recommendations, spoke about those who inspired him—both in a music and fashion sense—and altogether shared lots of fun facts that had been unknown to most previously.

WE BOOM 2019 RADIO SILENCE

18-YEAR-OLD-KIHYUN was noticeably.. Different. While Mark’s graduation had hit all of the remaining seven hard, the other six still at least pushed on and tried to act as if things were fine as normal, carrying on as most expected them to. Kihyun, however, had seemed to undergo a complete personality shift. He was withdrawn, quieter than he’d ever been—barely offering anything up in conversations or interviews even when prompted, barely any footage of him in behind-the-scenes content because he made next to no contributions to it; always preferring to stay in the background, on his phone with his headphones on and trying to ignore the cameras following them around. Public opinion of him was also beginning to slip further into the red, following leaked photos of him at an undisclosed individual’s party getting cosy with an unnamed and non-idol slightly older male just after the release of the mini-album—photos that went unaddressed by both the company and Kihyun himself. His name was starting to grow in infamy rather than popularity, but the boy himself didn’t really seem to care.

All traces of Kihyun on social media seemed to go completely cold, barely any updates from him that weren’t group photos or content. From the whole era there were a measly two Twitter posts from him, and his Bubble subscribers got refunded more often than not. But while he was refraining from making any posts, news websites and anonymous users were more than happy to leak more and more photos of him—always with the same boy, always at a party, or at a club, or just generally anywhere that looked a little shady to the hundreds of thousands that saw it. Rumours began to spread about a drinking problem, about a shady boyfriend, about countless things that painted Kihyun in a type of light that he’d previously avoided like the plague, but Kihyun himself made no attempt to defend himself, and so they only got wilder. It’s unanimously decided that the BOOM is the first (but certainly not the last) of Kihyun’s BAD eras.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: JENO LIVE

The then-blonde took it upon himself to disregard all the rumours spreading about his dongsaeng—although not in a direct way. He was careful with his words, as well-spoken as he always is, but made sure to especially shut down the accusations of Kihyun turning into some reckless party animal, taking the former leader’s graduation so bad he turned to less-than-ideal ways to cope. “Kyunnie isn’t like that, and never will be,” was what he told his audience, and many noted the flat look on his face. After the captain had, many of the others took their turn to come to Kihyun’s defence—mostly always with vague comments, but statements nonetheless. Chenle’s response in particular was deemed to be one of the most direct, replying to a comment while on live with a simple “You don’t know Kihyun like that” and then ending the live not long afterwards, leaving the conversation at that and somewhat encouraging the people speculating to do the same.

RELOAD 2020 CLIFF DROPS & HARMFUL HABITS

NOW 19, KIHYUN seemed to be at something of his lowest point thus far. While he made more public appearances, more attempts to join in with behind-the-scenes content (or just extra content in general), most concluded it was the result of management telling him he had to, rather that Kihyun himself choosing to do so—and his return only gave more opportunities for those looking to find all the things wrong with the once-charismatic & energy-filled vocalist. And to make matters worse for him, more information had been dug up on his newfound non-idol friends (or rather, the one boy in particular that everyone wanted to know about). Oh Jinwoo, he had been discovered to be called, something of an influencer-like figure known more often than not for his whole host of partners over the years and tendency to get mixed in with the wrong crowd. You could say that you could only imagine what this did to Kihyun’s public image (which was practically halfway ruined by that point already), but there was no need for imagination—practically everyone witnessed his fall from the (mostly Korean) public’s good books, yet nobody could do anything about it. It felt like every day there was another article released leaking more photos and spreading more rumours about whatever dark web Kihyun was tangling himself in, but still the company made no move to stop them.

It was also during the RIDIN era that Kihyun was rumoured to have started up the habit of smoking, with (albeit blurry) photos released to support the claims. This did absolutely nothing to help his reputation, tanking it further. His future was starting to look a little uncertain, questions being raised over whether his actions as of lately would warrant either a hiatus or removal from the group completely. He might’ve delivered all his lines as fine as normal, danced along with the rest in the same practised & efficient manner he always did, but talent didn’t mean much when placed on a scale against damaging the whole group’s image, rather than just his own. When people began to turn their nasty comments and endless gossip onto the other members, Kihyun was starting to look like more of a hindrance than a crucial member. It is, without a doubt, agreed by all that RIDIN was a REALLY, REALLY UGLY era.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: KIHYUN LIVE

It was short, it was vague, and it was still very obvious he was nowhere near to feeling like his normal self, but Kihyun himself did come forward to address a few things—mainly the smoking incident, which he admitted to be true and said that while he was trying to put a stop to it completely, habits like that were hard to quit. After the negative comments began to override the positive & supportive ones, he was quick to shut it off again and return to what was becoming his frighteningly normal status of radio silent. Still, it was something—and far more than anything SM gave, at that. Other members were also quick to dismiss or shut down any comments they saw on their own lives discussing Kihyun and his future of the group, all that they said mostly being along the simple and short lines of “Kihyun’s staying with us” and not elaborating any further.

HOT SAUCE 2021 A START

20 YEARS OF AGE. Mark was back, their permanence as a group was finally confirmed, the graduation system having been abolished, and all eight of them were together again. After five whole years of being active they were finally releasing a full album, and getting the chance to do it the way they all wanted. But while things were happier in that regard, Kihyun’s situation was far from forgotten. Fans of his were relieved nothing had been done about his place in the group—even if a few solo stans wanted him out just as much as those who hated him did, for the sake of his own wellbeing rather than them holding any ill-will towards the other members—but public opinion of him was still mostly in the red. Things were again starting to feel like they were hitting a dead-end: with Kihyun’s presence sort of.. Drifting. Sometimes he’d be absent for a group live, sometimes he’d go silent on all social media for weeks with his only comeback usually being his presence in the background of another member’s photos. Everything was looking just as uncertain as they had during the RIDIN era—until Kihyun once again started a solo live with the simple title of ‘an explanation’ and proceeded to do just that: explain.

Most suspected he didn’t divulge all the details, but the run-down was this: he’d met Jinwoo at some party or other, and they’d gotten just as close as all the leaked photos and gossipy articles made them out to be (although, again, some thought them to be far closer). He’d led Kihyun into a little bit of a rebellious era, what he called his ‘chance to be young and reckless’ since he’d mostly missed out on it, what with all his years of both diligent training & as an active idol. While he admitted on the broadcast that it was fun for a while, he was also realising the damage it was doing to both himself & his fellow members, so attempted to cut contact with his newfound friend—to no avail, for a few months, as they had more than a few periods of arguments both over the phone and in person. He said he’d only officially completely cut Jinwoo off a few weeks before the live, and shared with something of a wistful smile that he didn’t plan to get in touch with him any more now that he was gone. His viewers were overjoyed to hear this, and the members shared the sentiment—but Kihyun still had a ways to go before he was back to being a generally accepted fan-favourite. Despite him taking his first steps towards being back to his usual self, HOT SAUCE is still considered a BAD era for the vocalist.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MARK INSTAGRAM POST

It was a three-slide-long affair that was posted not too long after Kihyun’s live. The first was a selfie of himself & a sleeping Kihyun, one of the rapper’s arms gently holding the vocalist to his side while he grinned wide into the camera. The second, a solo shot of Kihyun’s face up close to the camera, tongue out and peace sign just barely visible in one of the corners, what with most of the frame being taken up by the odd expression he was pulling. The third slide was a short video, only ten seconds or so long, of Kihyun and him on the dorm’s sofa, the audio consisting the tail-end of Mark’s voice making a joke mostly unintelligible to the viewers that was quickly followed by Kihyun’s pure & unfiltered laughter as he cracked up at whatever the Dream leader had said. He was creased over, one hand repeatedly hitting Mark’s knee as the other held his stomach, breath coming out in jerky and uneven gasps as he tried to recover. The caption was made up of two words: ‘my KD.’

HELLO FUTURE 2021 COTTON CANDY & BACK TO NORMAL

STILL 20, BUT NOW SEEMING MUCH HAPPIER, by the time HELLO FUTURE era rolled around Kihyun felt to most like he’d healed fully from what had then been a period a month shy of two years worth of the continuous cycle of being somewhat of a public enemy. People thought it was the combination of getting the truth about all that had happened off his chest, the continuous support of his members both in Dream and in NCT as a whole, and the seemingly infectious happy mood that came with the HELLO FUTURE era that managed to finally get Kihyun back on his feet, and with him he was bringing performances reminiscent of how full of joy and excited he’d been during the WE YOUNG era, smile wide on his face in every shot and dancing filled to the brim with passion. He even made more of an effort to make appearances on social media—contradictory to the rule he’d made during the WE GO UP era of only being constantly online during concepts he wasn’t too fond of. He gave happy little updates every once in a while, paired with smiling selcas both alone & with the other members, was as talkative as most remembered him to be before what some had started to dub ‘the dark ages’ during any group lives they held, and even crashed a few of the member’s solo lives every now and again.

His change was noticed easily, and was one that began to slowly turn the tides of public opinion on him once again. The comments made about him being someone who was bringing the group down and ruining their reputation with his recklessness were slowly lessening, being replaced with positive ones, and soon enough his popularity was starting to grow again, instead of the countless hate trains and calls for him to be kicked out. Kihyun was well on the way (if not mostly there already) to being completely fine again, even apparently feeling well enough to make more than a few jokes at his own expense here and there about staying far, far away from any parties held by a friend-of-a-friend in the future. HELLO FUTURE was the light (or rather.. Rainbow?) at the end of the tunnel for Kihyun, and so it was considered his first GOOD era after the nearly two years of BAD (with one REALLY, REALLY UGLY, at his lowest) ones.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MV REACTION

Kihyun was seated next to Chenle, which could only really mean trouble—as it always did whenever the pair were within two metres of one another. They were cracking jokes every two seconds, falling all over one another with laughter and unable to shut up for even a minute. The rest paused the video more times to tell them to keep it together than they did for them to comment on anything actually happening in the MV, but you could tell from a mile away that they didn’t really mind in the slightest, more happy to see Kihyun laughing and smiling again than anything. They also all made sure to cheer the loudest when the vocalist’s solo scene appeared on screen, and then proceeded to (lovingly) make fun of him when his ears uncharacteristically went bright red at the praise being showered upon him, although he tried to get over it quickly and return back to his self-confidence-filled self.

GLITCH MODE 2022 VIDEO GAMES & B-BOYING IN PROGRESS

NOW FULLY BACK ON TRACK (& FRESHLY 21), Kihyun was ready to throw his all into their second full album. He was as good as new, his overwhelming feeling of excitement for every track recorded and released as clear as day. He even (again) broke his no-contact rule a few times just to relay how much he thought fans were going to love the album, posting spoilers as often as possible and revealing as much as he could get away with before it dropped. When it was released, he was practically talking about it non stop, chattering away on all platforms about the styling, the stages, the music, how fun it was, how much he was enjoying himself—the list went on. He declared the GLITCH MODE era to be his favourite, point blank, no matter how much he liked anything they would go on to release in the future. Public opinion of him was mostly completely smoothed over by that point, and his personal fan base was growing with every passing piece of content that was released. He seemed at his complete happiest, throwing everything he had and more into every single thing he did during promotions & extra content.

The GLITCH MODE era was also when he opened his personal Instagram account, his first post being a picture of him and Jeno glued to each other’s sides in a setting people assumed to be the SM building, with the caption ‘my favourite colleague.’ His follower count rose quickly, and is currently sitting at a comfortable 4.8M, mostly in the middle of Jisung and Chenle’s own numbers. Since then his account has become a home to photos that at times feel more like an exhibition of all the other Dream members (and his closer friends from the other units also) than anything involving himself, nonsensical lives that usually occur at the early hours of the morning where Kihyun—either alone or together with whoever decides to either join the live or join Kihyun himself wherever he’s holding it—has free reign to chatter on about whatever he pleases, although most of the time when he’s alone it turns into an impromptu radio hour where he takes the chance to talk about his favourite recent albums & artists, as well as listening to any recommendations his viewers give him. Slowly beginning to recover his streak, GLITCH MODE is seen as another GOOD era for Kihyun.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MV BEHIND

Kihyun had decided that he was going to properly get into breakdancing during the GLITCH MODE era, and saw no better place than his solo interview moment in the behind-the-scenes video to show off the moves he’d begun to learn. At first he just spoke about how excited he was for the comeback, with Mark hanging off of his back and chiming in with comments of his own here and there, but after a couple minutes of that he was shrugging the leader off of him and telling the camera to “Watch this!” before launching into an impromptu downrock routine while Mark watched on in horror, looking a little like he was on the verge of a seizure even if Kihyun was perfectly fine. He also tried to do a headstand, and by that point Jeno had also wandered over to see what all the fuss was about, and viewers had the pleasure of watching both the leader and captain attempt to stop Kihyun from giving himself a concussion—the latter looking like he was about to burst into tears, and the former looking as if he was seconds away from collapsing.

BEATBOX 2022 BOOMBOXES & MAKESHIFT ENGLISH LESSONS

21, AND, IN HIS WORDS, “IN HIS PRIME,” the vocalist & dancer took to BEATBOX like a duck to water. While it wasn’t a huge favourite of his, he still liked it well enough and had enough fun on both the sets of the music video and all the photoshoots that accompanied the release to make up for it. The choreography was also a favourite for him in particular, and he practised it so much he could be seen absently dancing along to it whenever he stood still for too long in almost all of the extra content both before & after the release. It was practically ingrained in him, all of it coming to him like muscle memory. He swore up and down he could do the BEATBOX choreo tied up and blindfolded by the end of the era, although he was far from complaining, dragging every idol he vaguely knew (and even ones he hadn’t even introduced himself to) to do the challenge with him backstage at all the music shows they attended. Hardly anyone was safe from Kihyun’s pleading eyes and charming smile, and fans joked they’d seen more of Kihyun on TikTok doing dance challenges than they had seen him on any other platform from all of his past eras combined.

He was also noted for his sudden unexpected closeness with Jaemin in the BEATBOX era. While they were far from just acquaintances, and had expressed their shared love for one another multiple times in the past (even after their not-really-fight they’d shared in their trainee years, the story of which Kihyun had retold during a live with Jeno and could barely get though sentences of without laughing at how ridiculous it sounded all those years later), he just seemed a little closer, a little clingier in all of the behind-the-scenes content; hanging off of his arm or dragging im off somewhere to talk about something or other. When asked about it somewhere, he simply shrugged with a big grin on his face. “I just like Jaemin-hyung,” was all he said at the time, but later in an Instagram post of the two on the set of the music video he had written the caption ‘please give me lots of love—and lots of followers too!’ with a whole array of heart emojis to accompany it, to which Jaemin commented with a lot of laughter and promising he’d bring his dongsaeng all the Instagram fame he seemed to desire. Now most definitely building his streak back up, BEATBOX was a GOOD era for Kihyun all-around.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: UNBOXING BEATBOX ALBUM

Sat with Donghyuck, Renjun, and Mark, Kihyun was tearing off the cellophane packaging of the album before the rest could even greet the camera, practically desperate to look through the photobook and (most importantly, so he could add it to his ever-growing collection of all the photocards he owned of his fellow members) see who he’d pulled. He yelled out in delight and brandished his brand-new Jaemin PC at the camera, before almost immediately pulling out his phone and prying off the case to slip it into the back of it (covering up the GLITCH MODE era Mark he’d pulled the last time they’d done an unboxing, much to the leader’s dismay). After that was done with, he started spending an unnecessarily long amount of time pouring over each page of the photobook, trying to think of English adjectives to describe them with and then distracting Mark from his own unboxing in order to get him to whisper them in his ear when he couldn’t think of how to translate them. ‘Hot’ and Jaemin’s practically-trademarked ‘Sexy’ was what he ended up coming out with the most.

CANDY 2022 EARMUFFS & CHRISTMAS KARAOKE

CHRISTMAS AT 21 was a very merry affair for Kihyun. He was as festive as could be, even wrangling Renjun and Jisung into buying a fake tree for their dorm that he decorated in a (very chaotic, and very loud) Christmas live a few days before the release of the EP. That seemed like the extent of his social media updates, though, only really appearing after that in group Twitter posts or lives (or occasionally the background of another member’s picture)—but this wasn’t all bad, seeing as it confirmed to most that he enjoyed the colourful and fun winter concept they were going with for the release. The only other real proper online presence he had was the random flurry of Bubble messages his subscribers would receive concerning his ranting and raving about his personal favourites from H.O.T.’s discography, seeing as he took it upon himself to listen to more of them because it was one of their songs they were remaking. Fans took delight in Kihyun’s wide smiles and overall joyful mannerism as he delivered lines about leaving his partner for another, saying his always-cheerful disposition made his performance of the title track all the more enjoyable.

In behind-the-scenes & extra content, Kihyun’s Christmas spirit felt infectious to viewers. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t belting out the lyrics to Christmas classics from all countries (even if he had to hold his phone up to Mark’s face on occasion and get him to help him with the pronunciation of some of the lyrics), or dancing around to something only he could hear in his head, or picking up some of the fake-snow they sprinkled around on a few of their sets and chucking it in Chenle’s face before sprinting in the other direction while the Chinese vocalist immediately gave chase, and the rest could only stand and watch it all play out. Now matching his previous four-long streak, CANDY is agreed to be yet another GOOD era for the vocalist.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: PACKING CANDY ALBUM

He was in Mark, Jisung, and Chenle’s group, and spent most of the time chucking baubles at Chenle, trying to balance the various items placed before them on the table on Jisung’s head & shoulders without him noticing, and steadily making his way through the whole rack of Chupa Chups sitting right beside him unattended rather than doing anything with the actual box in front of him. Mark took over the job for him in the end, leaving him to pretty much do whatever he pleased in the meantime (one of those things was repaying the favour Mark did him by tying him in bows with the ribbon that their boxes had come wrapped in, the leader making faces while he did so but doing absolutely nothing to stop him at the same time).

ISTJ 2023 MBTI FRAUD & IMPULSE DECISIONS

22-YEAR-OLD-KIHYUN was as energetic as ever, full of ideas and eager to get all of them heard. ISTJ was the album where he received the most writing credits, recorded as having helped with the lyrics for all tracks bar Like We Just Met and Blue Wave. Fans liked to see that he was showing a more creative side of himself this era, and that he was vocal about all the things he’d had input in or had helped shape into the final form, polishing it to perfection for their third full album. He was most noticeably supportive in their behind-the-scenes recording videos, where he got through all of his own sessions quickly & efficiently (but with no lack of passion and enthusiasm for the lines he was given—which most were happy to see were more than usual, similar to the WE YOUNG era in terms of numbers, even occasionally soaring a few higher) and then stayed in to listen to all of his other fellow members, cheering them on from behind the glass and dancing around as they recorded, greeting them with a wide hug and endless amounts of praise when they left the booth.

Another thing that was enjoyable for fans was his complete lack of awareness of what an MBTI actually was. He’d heard of them, of course, but he’d never gone as far as to take a test and find out for himself. So Kihyun, curious to see what the fuss was all about, turned on an Instagram live, propped his phone up against his desk, switched his laptop on, and took one there and then. He consulted with viewers about every single one of the questions, taking far too long to complete it than any normal person would-and, when he finally did, disagreeing with his result right up until he saw other people that shared his MBTI. He shut up pretty quick when he scrolled down a little more and saw that he apparently had the same one as Adele, changing his tune almost instantly and saying his result was the best of them all. Officially bumping his longest-running streak up to five, ISTJ was most definitely a GOOD era for Kihyun.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: MV BEHIND

He was clearly in his element, bouncing around from member to member to play with their hair or jump onto their back or whisper something in their ear before bursting out into a fit of snickers and running off again to see who else he could bother. He played photographer for most of their Instagram posts, taking the outtakes or moments where they had an eye closed or just clearly weren’t ready for his own feed, started a playfight with Jisung and nearly tripped himself up on a stray wire in the process, brought his own mini Bluetooth speaker to set one day so he could have a soundtrack while he caused his chaos, and attempted to show off more tricks he was learning, but was quickly stopped by Mark, who, as soon as he saw him getting in position for what looked like a cartwheel of some sort, was rushing over faster than light—his breakdancing routine from the GLITCH MODE era still very much as the forefront of his mind.

DREAM()SCAPE 2024 MOCKTAILS & ODD-LOOKING FRUITS

AGAIN FRESH OFF A BIRTHDAY (HIS 23RD THIS TIME), the vocalist felt just as excited for the release as he had for GLITCH MODE, even if it wasn’t a full album. It was calling back to their debut days, making a statement through all of the symbolism and hidden messages that was louder than any of them could convey with words, and was altogether a project that hoped to show to everyone how strong their bond actually was, to convince the few out there that were of the opposite opinion that they all loved one another throughout the thick and thin their eight years of being an active subunit, and weren’t likely to stop anytime soon. Kihyun was like Jisung in regards to all the fan-theories being made about the teasers, keeping his mouth mostly shut (although some thought that was just because he was barely on social media as it was), but did comment on some things in particular—namely Jeno’s back, the Jaemin trailer that had him locking eyes with the camera even in between a crowd, and the Chenle pill-biting scene. He kept quiet on his own, making brief comments about how cool he thought he looked on Bubble but not saying much otherwise.

The few things he did share about the comeback were mostly about the music. He had writing credits for the majority of the songs, but also had another piece of news that was exciting for him as a longtime personal goal he’d had for a good while—and that was that he’d assisted with the production on one of the tracks. Most that knew Kihyun knew that music production had been one of his interests since he knew what it was, and so naturally that meant they knew what some of his work in the production area actually getting used in an official release would mean to him. He couldn’t have been happier about it, and that happiness was a sentiment both the members and his closer friends outside of Dream shared with him, mentioning it in passing when talking about DREAM()SCAPE. Even if it only just ended, SMOOTHIE is considered yet another—making this his sixth in a row since ‘the dark ages’—GOOD era for Kihyun.

MY FAVOURITE MOMENT: DREAM()SCAPE COUPLE SONG MEETING

Amidst all the chaos, Kihyun was surprisingly quiet. He looked half-asleep for most of the meeting; Jamiroquai baseball cap backwards on his head, eyes drooping closed every now and again, and a thick sweater on that he kept pulling closer to himself as if he wanted it to suddenly transform into a blanket. The only thing he did the whole meeting was play Cooking Mama on his phone (we know this because he shared screenshots of his finished dishes on Bubble afterwards) and vouch for Carat Cake—yes, you heard that right, Carat Cake. The song that most of the members bar maybe Donghyuck acted as if it didn’t exist. He didn’t really care if it wasn’t a couple song, and didn’t really care if it didn’t get picked, either—he just wanted it to be known that was where his vote lay. It was his favourite song on the EP, and hoped that somewhere out there there’d be people that liked it just as much as him. At some point in the middle he got bored with both his phone and the arguments still going on in front of him, so he nestled his head in his arms and attempted to have a nap. Which, predictably, didn’t work that well. By the end of it he was still dead tired, still the only one that liked Carat Cake, but also the only one who had three stars on his Cooking Mama carbonara, and so he considered himself the real winner of that meeting.

#⠀૮ ᴖﻌᴖა⠀DRIVE ME CRAZY ✱⠀⠀——⠀⠀eras.#nct dream added member #nct oc addition #nct dream 8th member #nct addition #nct oc #kpop idol oc #kpop addition #kpop male oc #fictional idol community #temp cr. desi6ner

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dailyanarchistposts · 5 months ago

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F.6.3 But surely market forces will stop abuses by the rich?

Unlikely. The rise of corporations within America indicates exactly how a “general libertarian law code” would reflect the interests of the rich and powerful. The laws recognising corporations as “legal persons” were not primarily a product of “the state” but of private lawyers hired by the rich. As Howard Zinn notes:

“the American Bar Association, organised by lawyers accustomed to serving the wealthy, began a national campaign of education to reverse the [Supreme] Court decision [that companies could not be considered as a person]… . By 1886, they succeeded … the Supreme Court had accepted the argument that corporations were ‘persons’ and their money was property protected by the process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment … The justices of the Supreme Court were not simply interpreters of the Constitution. They were men of certain backgrounds, of certain [class] interests.” [A People’s History of the United States, p. 255]

Of course it will be argued that the Supreme Court is chosen by the government and is a state enforced monopoly and so our analysis is flawed. Yet this is not the case. As Rothbard made clear, the “general libertarian law code” would be created by lawyers and jurists and everyone would be expected to obey it. Why expect these lawyers and jurists to be any less class conscious then those in the 19th century? If the Supreme Court “was doing its bit for the ruling elite” then why would those creating the law system be any different? “How could it be neutral between rich and poor,” argues Zinn, “when its members were often former wealthy lawyers, and almost always came from the upper class?” [Op. Cit., p. 254] Moreover, the corporate laws came about because there was a demand for them. That demand would still have existed in “anarcho”-capitalism. Now, while there may nor be a Supreme Court, Rothbard does maintain that “the basic Law Code … would have to be agreed upon by all the judicial agencies” but he maintains that this “would imply no unified legal system”! Even though ”[a]ny agencies that transgressed the basic libertarian law code would be open outlaws” and soon crushed this is not, apparently, a monopoly. [The Ethics of Liberty, p. 234] So, you either agree to the law code or you go out of business. And that is not a monopoly! Therefore, we think, our comments on the Supreme Court are valid (see also section F.7.2).

If all the available defence firms enforce the same laws, then it can hardly be called “competitive”! And if this is the case (and it is) “when private wealth is uncontrolled, then a police-judicial complex enjoying a clientele of wealthy corporations whose motto is self-interest is hardly an innocuous social force controllable by the possibility of forming or affiliating with competing ‘companies.’” [Wieck, Op. Cit., p. 225] This is particularly true if these companies are themselves Big Business and so have a large impact on the laws they are enforcing. If the law code recognises and protects capitalist power, property and wealth as fundamental any attempt to change this is “initiation of force” and so the power of the rich is written into the system from the start!

(And, we must add, if there is a general libertarian law code to which all must subscribe, where does that put customer demand? If people demand a non-libertarian law code, will defence firms refuse to supply it? If so, will not new firms, looking for profit, spring up that will supply what is being demanded? And will that not put them in direct conflict with the existing, pro-general law code ones? And will a market in law codes not just reflect economic power and wealth? David Friedman, who is for a market in law codes, argues that ”[i]f almost everyone believes strongly that heroin addiction is so horrible that it should not be permitted anywhere under any circumstances anarcho-capitalist institutions will produce laws against heroin. Laws are being produced on the market, and that is what the market wants.” And he adds that “market demands are in dollars, not votes. The legality of heroin will be determined, not by how many are for or against but how high a cost each side is willing to bear in order to get its way.” [The Machinery of Freedom, p. 127] And, as the market is less than equal in terms of income and wealth, such a position will mean that the capitalist class will have a higher effective demand than the working class and more resources to pay for any conflicts that arise. Thus any law codes that develop will tend to reflect the interests of the wealthy.)

Which brings us nicely on to the next problem regarding market forces.

As well as the obvious influence of economic interests and differences in wealth, another problem faces the “free market” justice of “anarcho”-capitalism. This is the “general libertarian law code” itself. Even if we assume that the system actually works like it should in theory, the simple fact remains that these “defence companies” are enforcing laws which explicitly defend capitalist property (and so social relations). Capitalists own the means of production upon which they hire wage-labourers to work and this is an inequality established prior to any specific transaction in the labour market. This inequality reflects itself in terms of differences in power within (and outside) the company and in the “law code” of “anarcho”-capitalism which protects that power against the dispossessed.

In other words, the law code within which the defence companies work assumes that capitalist property is legitimate and that force can legitimately be used to defend it. This means that, in effect, “anarcho”-capitalism is based on a monopoly of law, a monopoly which explicitly exists to defend the power and capital of the wealthy. The major difference is that the agencies used to protect that wealth will be in a weaker position to act independently of their pay-masters. Unlike the state, the “defence” firm is not remotely accountable to the general population and cannot be used to equalise even slightly the power relationships between worker and capitalist (as the state has, on occasion done, due to public pressure and to preserve the system as a whole). And, needless to say, it is very likely that the private police forces will give preferential treatment to their wealthier customers (which business does not?) and that the law code will reflect the interests of the wealthier sectors of society (particularly if prosperous judges administer that code) in reality, even if not in theory. Since, in capitalist practice, “the customer is always right,” the best-paying customers will get their way in “anarcho”-capitalist society.

For example, in chapter 29 of The Machinery of Freedom, David Friedman presents an example of how a clash of different law codes could be resolved by a bargaining process (the law in question is the death penalty). This process would involve one defence firm giving a sum of money to the other for them accepting the appropriate (anti/pro capital punishment) court. Friedman claims that ”[a]s in any good trade, everyone gains” but this is obviously not true. Assuming the anti-capital punishment defence firm pays the pro one to accept an anti-capital punishment court, then, yes, both defence firms have made money and so are happy, so are the anti-capital punishment consumers but the pro-death penalty customers have only (perhaps) received a cut in their bills. Their desire to see criminals hanged (for whatever reason) has been ignored (if they were not in favour of the death penalty, they would not have subscribed to that company). Friedman claims that the deal, by allowing the anti-death penalty firm to cut its costs, will ensure that it “keep its customers and even get more” but this is just an assumption. It is just as likely to loose customers to a defence firm that refuses to compromise (and has the resources to back it up). Friedman’s assumption that lower costs will automatically win over people’s passions is unfounded as is the assumption that both firms have equal resources and bargaining power. If the pro-capital punishment firm demands more than the anti can provide and has larger weaponry and troops, then the anti defence firm may have to agree to let the pro one have its way. So, all in all, it is not clear that “everyone gains” — there may be a sizeable percentage of those involved who do not “gain” as their desire for capital punishment is traded away by those who claimed they would enforce it. This may, in turn, produce a demand for defence firms which do not compromise with obvious implications for public peace.

In other words, a system of competing law codes and privatised rights does not ensure that all individual interests are meet. Given unequal resources within society, it is clear that the “effective demand” of the parties involved to see their law codes enforced is drastically different. The wealthy head of a transnational corporation will have far more resources available to him to pay for his laws to be enforced than one of his employees on the assembly line. Moreover, as we noted in section F.3.1, the labour market is usually skewed in favour of capitalists. This means that workers have to compromise to get work and such compromises may involve agreeing to join a specific “defence” firm or not join one at all (just as workers are often forced to sign non-union contracts today in order to get work). In other words, a privatised law system is very likely to skew the enforcement of laws in line with the skewing of income and wealth in society. At the very least, unlike every other market, the customer is not guaranteed to get exactly what they demand simply because the product they “consume” is dependent on others within the same market to ensure its supply. The unique workings of the law/defence market are such as to deny customer choice (we will discuss other aspects of this unique market shortly). Wieck summed by pointing out the obvious:

“any judicial system is going to exist in the context of economic institutions. If there are gross inequalities of power in the economic and social domains, one has to imagine society as strangely compartmentalised in order to believe that those inequalities will fail to reflect themselves in the judicial and legal domain, and that the economically powerful will be unable to manipulate the legal and judicial system to their advantage. To abstract from such influences of context, and then consider the merits of an abstract judicial system.. . is to follow a method that is not likely to take us far. This, by the way, is a criticism that applies…to any theory that relies on a rule of law to override the tendencies inherent in a given social and economic system” [Op. Cit., p. 225]

There is another reason why “market forces” will not stop abuse by the rich, or indeed stop the system from turning from private to public statism. This is due to the nature of the “defence” market (for a similar analysis of the “defence” market see right-“libertarian” economist Tyler Cowen’s “Law as a Public Good: The Economics of Anarchy” [Economics and Philosophy, no. 8 (1992), pp. 249–267] and “Rejoinder to David Friedman on the Economics of Anarchy” [Economics and Philosophy, no. 10 (1994), pp. 329–332]). In “anarcho”-capitalist theory it is assumed that the competing “defence companies” have a vested interest in peacefully settling differences between themselves by means of arbitration. In order to be competitive on the market, companies will have to co-operate via contractual relations otherwise the higher price associated with conflict will make the company uncompetitive and it will go under. Those companies that ignore decisions made in arbitration would be outlawed by others, ostracised and their rulings ignored. By this process, it is argued, a system of competing “defence” companies will be stable and not turn into a civil war between agencies with each enforcing the interests of their clients against others by force.

However, there is a catch. Unlike every other market, the businesses in competition in the “defence” industry must co-operate with its fellows in order to provide its services for its customers. They need to be able to agree to courts and judges, agree to abide by decisions and law codes and so forth. In economics there are other, more accurate, terms to describe co-operative activity between companies: collusion and cartels. These are when companies in a specific market agree to work together (co-operate) to restrict competition and reap the benefits of monopoly power by working to achieve the same ends in partnership with each other. By stressing the co-operative nature of the “defence” market, “anarcho”-capitalists are implicitly acknowledging that collusion is built into the system. The necessary contractual relations between agencies in the “protection” market require that firms co-operate and, by so doing, to behave (effectively) as one large firm (and so resemble a normal state even more than they already do). Quoting Adam Smith seems appropriate here: “People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices.” [The Wealth of Nations, p. 117] Having a market based on people of the same trade co-operating seems, therefore, an unwise move.

For example, when buying food it does not matter whether the supermarkets visited have good relations with each other. The goods bought are independent of the relationships that exist between competing companies. However, in the case of private states this is not the case. If a specific “defence” company has bad relationships with other companies in the market then it is against a customer’s self-interest to subscribe to it. Why subscribe to a private state if its judgements are ignored by the others and it has to resort to violence to be heard? This, as well as being potentially dangerous, will also push up the prices that have to be paid. Arbitration is one of the most important services a defence firm can offer its customers and its market share is based upon being able to settle interagency disputes without risk of war or uncertainty that the final outcome will not be accepted by all parties. Lose that and a company will lose market share.

Therefore, the market set-up within the “anarcho”-capitalist “defence” market is such that private states have to co-operate with the others (or go out of business fast) and this means collusion can take place. In other words, a system of private states will have to agree to work together in order to provide the service of “law enforcement” to their customers and the result of such co-operation is to create a cartel. However, unlike cartels in other industries, the “defence” cartel will be a stable body simply because its members have to work with their competitors in order to survive.

Let us look at what would happen after such a cartel is formed in a specific area and a new “defence company” desired to enter the market. This new company will have to work with the members of the cartel in order to provide its services to its customers (note that “anarcho”-capitalists already assume that they “will have to” subscribe to the same law code). If the new defence firm tries to under-cut the cartel’s monopoly prices, the other companies would refuse to work with it. Having to face constant conflict or the possibility of conflict, seeing its decisions being ignored by other agencies and being uncertain what the results of a dispute would be, few would patronise the new “defence company.” The new company’s prices would go up and it would soon face either folding or joining the cartel. Unlike every other market, if a “defence company” does not have friendly, co-operative relations with other firms in the same industry then it will go out of business.

This means that the firms that are co-operating have simply to agree not to deal with new firms which are attempting to undermine the cartel in order for them to fail. A “cartel busting” firm goes out of business in the same way an outlaw one does — the higher costs associated with having to solve all its conflicts by force, not arbitration, increases its production costs much higher than the competitors and the firm faces insurmountable difficulties selling its products at a profit (ignoring any drop of demand due to fears of conflict by actual and potential customers). Even if we assume that many people will happily join the new firm in spite of the dangers to protect themselves against the cartel and its taxation (i.e. monopoly profits), enough will remain members of the cartel so that co-operation will still be needed and conflict unprofitable and dangerous (and as the cartel will have more resources than the new firm, it could usually hold out longer than the new firm could). In effect, breaking the cartel may take the form of an armed revolution — as it would with any state.

The forces that break up cartels and monopolies in other industries (such as free entry — although, of course the “defence” market will be subject to oligopolistic tendencies as any other and this will create barriers to entry) do not work here and so new firms have to co-operate or loose market share and/or profits. This means that “defence companies” will reap monopoly profits and, more importantly, have a monopoly of force over a given area.

It is also likely that a multitude of cartels would develop, with a given cartel operating in a given locality. This is because law enforcement would be localised in given areas as most crime occurs where the criminal lives (few criminals would live in Glasgow and commit crimes in Paris). However, as defence companies have to co-operate to provide their services, so would the cartels. Few people live all their lives in one area and so firms from different cartels would come into contact, so forming a cartel of cartels. This cartel of cartels may (perhaps) be less powerful than a local cartel, but it would still be required and for exactly the same reasons a local one is. Therefore “anarcho”-capitalism would, like “actually existing capitalism,” be marked by a series of public states covering given areas, co-ordinated by larger states at higher levels. Such a set up would parallel the United States in many ways except it would be run directly by wealthy shareholders without the sham of “democratic” elections. Moreover, as in the USA and other states there will still be a monopoly of rules and laws (the “general libertarian law code”).

Hence a monopoly of private states will develop in addition to the existing monopoly of law and this is a de facto monopoly of force over a given area (i.e. some kind of public state run by share holders). New companies attempting to enter the “defence” industry will have to work with the existing cartel in order to provide the services it offers to its customers. The cartel is in a dominant position and new entries into the market either become part of it or fail. This is exactly the position with the state, with “private agencies” free to operate as long as they work to the state’s guidelines. As with the monopolist “general libertarian law code”, if you do not toe the line, you go out of business fast.

“Anarcho”-capitalists claim that this will not occur, but that the co-operation needed to provide the service of law enforcement will somehow not turn into collusion between companies. However, they are quick to argue that renegade “agencies” (for example, the so-called “Mafia problem” or those who reject judgements) will go out of business because of the higher costs associated with conflict and not arbitration. Yet these higher costs are ensured because the firms in question do not co-operate with others. If other agencies boycott a firm but co-operate with all the others, then the boycotted firm will be at the same disadvantage — regardless of whether it is a cartel buster or a renegade. So the “anarcho”-capitalist is trying to have it both ways. If the punishment of non-conforming firms cannot occur, then “anarcho”-capitalism will turn into a war of all against all or, at the very least, the service of social peace and law enforcement cannot be provided. If firms cannot deter others from disrupting the social peace (one service the firm provides) then “anarcho”-capitalism is not stable and will not remain orderly as agencies develop which favour the interests of their own customers and enforce their own law codes at the expense of others. If collusion cannot occur (or is too costly) then neither can the punishment of non-conforming firms and “anarcho”-capitalism will prove to be unstable.

So, to sum up, the “defence” market of private states has powerful forces within it to turn it into a monopoly of force over a given area. From a privately chosen monopoly of force over a specific (privately owned) area, the market of private states will turn into a monopoly of force over a general area. This is due to the need for peaceful relations between companies, relations which are required for a firm to secure market share. The unique market forces that exist within this market ensure collusion and the system of private states will become a cartel and so a public state — unaccountable to all but its shareholders, a state of the wealthy, by the wealthy, for the wealthy.

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some-creep · 18 days ago

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Currently untitled sequel to "Little Bird" Ch 02/??

just like before i'll never finish it if i dont just post it lol. click >HERE< for chapter 1 if u didnt read it. A little Ari background lore and Adler talks to Falke.

S-23 Sierpinski, a remote mining facility located somewhere on Leng, home to some of AEON's best Replika staff ever produced, as well as a revolving door of Gestalt workers. Workers, perhaps, was being a bit generous. No one chose to end up there. You were "recommended" to transfer there. If you were lucky, you got discharged due to serious injury, but even that was increasingly rare. Perhaps AEON didn't enjoy the reputation their facility had garnered over the years; having startling few non-laborer Gestalt staff was starting to be seen as the first red flag to avoid an assignment there by any means necessary. But Gestalt staff were far more difficult to control if they hadn't been hand picked and raised for their positions, and even those individuals were far more likely to end up elsewhere to put their skills to good use.

A new batch of graduates made for a potential pool of bodies to send off for some arbitrarily created role. Some dubois officer position that held no real weight but looked good on a public list of staff members. The perfect role for a Gestalt that no one particularly wanted anywhere else anyway.

And that had been how Ariane found herself shipped off across the galaxy, far away from home yet back to where she'd been born. Perhaps they had thought she'd be better suited for the quirks of life on Leng, but more than likely they just didn't care what happened to her. Her aunt had been so proud. An officer! And so young! Ariane wondered if she was intentionally delusional or just stupid. Maybe her aunt had gotten tired of caring for her after realizing going to “normal” school with the other kids hadn't immediately fixed her.

At the time of her deployment, Ariane had been quite certain she would be dead in just a few months time. Management would decide the position wasn't working after they'd gotten all their usage out of her, and she'd be quietly reassigned as a laborer. She was still certain that would have been the case if not for the fact that Falke had taken an immediate interest in her. And now she was trapped, walking a thin line between Replika and Gestalt. A Replika staff member who did not belong; a Gestalt who had sided with her oppressors. Most days she tried not to think about it– kept her head down, stayed locked in her little radio room all day writing messages to report to Falke. None of it was ever important. Nothing she did ever mattered. After a while, she took to doodling while she worked, then reading, and sometimes even sleeping. No one seemed all that interested in what she actually did so long as she was where she was supposed to be at the times she was supposed to be there.

It was likely because she was fucking her boss.

People knew, of course. Ariane certainly wasn't bragging about being sexually exploited by her superior, but it was a relatively small facility where no one left regularly. At a certain point, everyone knew everything about everyone. This, of course, was not helped by the fact the Protektor Controller had outright seen her and Falke together. Falke was a terribly busy woman and oftentimes business could not wait. Sieben’s intrusion had not perturbed Falke, and so she kept toying with Ariane as she spoke to the STCR unit.

Ariane had never felt so humiliated in her life. She locked herself in an upper-level bathroom stall and cried for a few hours before returning to her room for the night. And then…nothing happened. No one mentioned the incident to her. No one behaved any differently around her. Sieben knew without a shadow of a doubt and life went on as normal. Falke didn't bring it up the next time they saw one another because it hadn't mattered.

Ariane had been certain for a long time that Replikas weren't supposed to be able to have or even want sex. They didn't wear clothes because they had nothing to cover up. All the Replikas she'd ever met had been working. Teaching, nursing, policing, managing, things like that. She knew what the Nation told her about Replikas. Perfect workers, perfect copies, perfectly loyal, unburdened by silly distractions like Gestalts often were. Everyone should aspire to be just like them.

Then, she met them. Talked to them. The EULR unit who brought her meals during the day had a girlfriend, a STAR unit. She always smelled like gunpowder because her girlfriend spent all her free time in the firing range. That unit went by Hunter and was considered well respected amongst her peers, which made Ariane anticipate her to be scary, but instead she seemed…nice? Even a little bit dumb at times. One track mind. She wanted to take Elster to the shooting range because she had decided Elster was cool for dating a Gestalt and that made them friends and friends went shooting together. Elster had yet to make good on that offer because Ariane wasn’t comfortable around guns and Hunter had intended it to be something of a ‘double date’.

Ariane had, after a while, given in to her curiosity and asked a question she knew was offensive but one she had no one else to ask. Did Replikas have sex? What did that even look like? She'd spent enough time around Elster to be well aware of the fact there was nothing down there but more plastic.

Eule hadn't been offended. EULR-S2301. The oldest of her kind on base. She had a nickname, as all EULRs did, but amongst people outside her cadre she'd earned her title of being simply “Eule”. With that age came experience, and that experience had given her plenty of opportunities to explain the nuances of being a Replika to both her newly created peers and young white-haired Gestalt officers alike.

She had been told, “just ask Elster what she likes. Everyone is different.” Unhelpful at the time, certainly. Ariane understood that in a general sense but certainly not an anatomical one. Eule eventually explained to her that Replikas could be disassembled for maintenance but amongst themselves they'd been clever enough to figure out they could get more out of it then a few changed parts. It was about vulnerability and trust, hardly any different than it was between Gestalts.

Elster had been either too shy or too oblivious to mention any of her needs to Ariane. “LSTR units don't have needs,” was a common phrase out of Elster's mouth whenever Ariane tried to offer her something for her comfort or benefit. After a while, she'd just started framing them as orders until Elster got the hint it was okay to enjoy things.

LSTR units worked with their hands a lot. Every Replika did, of course, but LSTR units did so in such a way they were more prone to possible damage over time. Small movements, repetitive work, gradual wear and tear to internal components. The plate on their wrists popped off for quick, easy access.

The first time Elster took the covering off of her arm made Ariane horribly nauseous. Wires and meat. Twitching, nondescript meat, vaguely resembling muscle as she understood it but not quite. She'd nearly fainted at the sight of it and Elster, flustered, had quickly covered herself back up. It felt wrong seeing her like that… Ariane's mind registered the sight as a serious injury that needed immediate care. The nauseous quickly faded into guilt as Elster was the one apologizing for scaring her.

The next time she'd been better prepared for what to expect. It was still difficult to fight her immediate reaction of aversion, but Elster was her partner. Elster had stuck around her almost since day one when she’d wandered into her bedroom for a last minute repair. Elster listened to her with great interest even though she rarely had context to understand what Ariane was talking about. She, too, was equally as passionate about what she was designed for, often going out of her way to help with personal repairs too insignificant to be officially filed as maintenance requests.

Elster was so sweet and accommodating, and at times just as out of her element as Ariane was. Elster deserved better than her.

Ariane had often wondered after their first moment, did she deserve Falke. She hadn't argued, hadn't said no, hadn't tried to distance herself after the fact. She hadn't told anyone, tried to reach out, nor had she even bothered discussing it with the people she did trust. Elster cared about her but Ariane didn't even have the decency to confide in her. Maybe that was the reason she always lied about the marks Falke left when she wanted to play too rough.

In a hospital bed after school. Erika and Isa carried her to the train to have her injuries looked at despite her protests.

“I'm fine,” she had insisted through bruised ribs and dangerous amounts of swelling. Breathing was excruciating.

“I'm fine,” she had insisted every sleepless night after the fact.

Ariane was always fine because she had to be. If Falke ever caused her serious harm Ariane had to accept the fact she was just going to die because seeking medical treatment would be acknowledging she wasn't fine.

For the moment, things were fine. In her stuffy little closet, trapped between a concrete wall and a polyethylene chassis, with textured fingers gently stroking her back, Ariane was content. It was a position she’d found herself in many times before and one she hoped to be in for the foreseeable future. She'd flipped on the small television set for some kind of background noise, and to help distract from the overnight workers wandering the halls. The facility never truly stopped, even if she needed to every now and again. Whatever it was she'd turned on, they'd definitely seen it before.

“How was work?” Ariane asked.

Elster only hummed in response, a non-committal noise of “it was okay”.

“Any under the table repairs today?”

She thought for a moment before replying, “I fixed a set of string lights for the EULR dorm.”

“Were they nice to you this time?”

“Nicer.”

Many of the EULR units on base seemed to think Elster was…odd. It made some kind of sense; they were talkative and social and Elster was designed to be a quiet loner. They were friendly and Elster wasn't permitted to be, so consequently she didn't have much practice socializing. ARAR units at least were social amongst their own kind, but Elster officially had nothing of the sort.

“What about you?”

“Me? Oh. The usual. Boring. You should visit me in my office sometime. Maybe a little play break~?”

Elster frowned, resting her chin on Ariane's head. “While we're both working?”

Ariane giggled, “why not? You get breaks, don’t you?”

“No. I mean, if I’m expected to do something, I have to go do it.”

“You’ve visited me before.”

“Yes, to fix the wheel on your chair.” Ariane huffed, bumping her head against Elster’s chest. “You’re no fun, Ellie.”

Elster had made several small repairs for her since her arrival at the base. Her lamp, her chair, the fan in the corner of her room. Simple things. Pointless things. Excuses to spend time with Elster before she’d convinced her to share her room and then her bed. She enjoyed watching Elster work. Her focused expression as she pieced together how to solve whatever problem was in front of her. Sometimes she looked at Ariane the same way as she used her innate problem solving skills to figure out how best to pleasure her. To anyone else, being looked at like work might have been somewhat offensive, but for Ariane it was the highest compliment she could think of because it came from someone who legitimately enjoyed doing the things she did.

“I thought you liked that I was serious.”

“Yes, but. Mmn!”

Elster laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Well, I’m here now. If you’re interested in playing, that is.”

Ariane pushed against Elster’s shoulder, knowing full well that the Replika rolling onto her back was entirely to play along. Ariane couldn’t actually move her no matter how hard she tried. Straddling Elster’s lap, she took her hand and lifted her arm up. “Pretty please?” she asked, tracing her finger along a seam in Elster’s arm.

Looking up at Ariane, she swallowed, nodding.

Adler was a perfectly fine employee when he wasn't trying to insert himself in her personal business. A habit of his that was becoming increasingly prevalent as time went on. Falke wondered if she hadn't been strict enough with him despite being promised he'd be plenty obedient without much work on her part. Whatever the case, she certainly felt like she was paying for her inaction now.

“Commander? I know it's an inappropriate time but I was hoping I could speak with you about a matter I consider urgent?”

Falke didn't see the point in entertaining him. She knew what this was about, but she also knew he'd never really drop it until she made him. And she couldn't make him without talking to him. Pity.

“Go ahead.”

Adler straightened his posture as he looked up at Falke, who was leaning against her door frame, head bowed to avoid hitting the top of it. This was her time off, and she figured it was unreasonable to expect all that much professionalism from her. “Myself and several other staff members have been concerned lately about your sudden changes in behavior.”

That was almost certainly an embellishment if not an outright lie on his part. Sieben hadn't seemed all that concerned about her behavior as of late, and other staff seldom interacted with her directly enough to notice any significant changes. Kolibri, maybe, but they hadn't mentioned an issue with her either.

“Oh?” Falke raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. She waited a moment before throwing him a leading question, “since when?”

“Ever since that girl showed up and–”

“Officer Yeong outranks you. I'd be careful what you say next.”

He flinched, glancing around the room as if anything present might help him make sense of what Falke had just said. Was that actually true, or had the Commander arbitrarily decided it in the moment just to keep him in line?

“Be that as it may…” he began, slowly, hoping not to misspeak in a way that might further agitate the Commander, “her presence seems to cause too much of a distraction for you and I–”

“Are you really in a position to make that claim?”

Adler hesitated before nodding. He had made a promise to himself not to give up so easily. He had to do everything in his power to ensure his beloved Commander was operating correctly. “Well, I… yes. I think that I am. After all, it’s my job to support you and sometimes support requires pointing out problems and helping to solve them. I mean no disrespect.”

Falke rolled her eyes, stepping out of her doorway to stand up straight. “Your job is to obey me. It is not to question me. Now, I’ve been quite lenient with you up until this point as I have better things to do than waste my energy keeping you in line.”

“Commander, please. This isn’t you. I know you.”

“You… “know” me.” She repeated, flashing a smile that did not reach her eyes. “You know what your programming tells you,” Falke leaned forward, voice low. “You know what you are designed to know. You feel what you are designed to feel. There was a Falke before me, wasn’t there? And you knew her, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but she was different. She wasn’t the kind of leader you are. That’s why she was replaced. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you because I care about you. It’s different!” His instance only made her laugh. Adler looked away, furrowing his brow. What more could he say? Why had the Commander betrayed him like this? Didn’t she care about him the way he cared about her? Of course she did! She had to!

With a flick of her wrist, Falke forced him to look back up at her. “Look at people when you’re talking to them.” He wasn’t worth the effort, but his incessant need to question her meant he needed to be put in his place. “You realize, don’t you, I’ve read your files. I know everything about you. Your schematics, your issues, all of it. Nothing you feel towards me is real. New ADLR models are designed to be good little obedient tools to keep facilities running. We are not friends, and we certainly are not anything more than that despite what your pathetic little mind likes to think when I neglect my duty to keep you in line. You are a Replika. Start acting like it.”

Falke released her invisible hold on him, watching him stumble backwards, trying to form some kind of rebuttal. She did not wait for him to collect himself before she calmly spoke, “goodnight, Adler. I will see you at work tomorrow.” She could hear him trying to sputter out a “Commander, wait,” as she turned and vanished back into her room, bedroom door sliding shut behind her before he could finish.

#signalis #ariane yeong #signalis falke #fklr #signalis elster #lstr #adlr #i dont think i used the main tag last time but i decided idc this time #this chapter isnt even that bad so whatever #i didnt really edit this cuz i got tired of looking at it #one day if when i finished and put it on ao3 #i'll actually finish it nicely or some such

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majorbaby · 2 years ago

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Frank Burns is a great character because the writers and Larry Linville were aware that he was supposed to be terrible, and no attempt is ever made to redeem him.

Linville left the show because he felt there was nowhere else for the character to go, and I'd add that there was nowhere for Frank to go that wouldn't undercut the character's effectiveness.

And yet despite never achieving any recognizable redeeming qualities the way that audiences like to see in an antagonist (and MASH audiences would later get in Charles) Frank isn't entirely flat either.

Frank wants to be liked, and who can't relate to that feeling? When the one person who ever wanted to have him around (Margaret) moves on from him, it's the catalyst of a loss of any kind of self-preservation and his subsequent discharge.

He thinks Trapper and Hawkeye are neat, and sometimes he does the equivalent of yanking on their pigtails (albeit very hard) for attention. At the end of "Germ Warfare" Hawkeye and Trapper bring him flowers as an apology for having stolen his blood, cue sentimental music playing in the background as Frank slowly accepts the peace offering - it's kind of a sweet moment for them.

There's also some interesting class stuff going on with him. In Welcome to Korea pt 1 he laments to Margaret that he wasn't allowed to join the fraternity that BJ was a part of because he didn't own a black suit, which is a small detail but if you're looking at this through a class lens, then it changes the tone of Frank being on the receiving end of BJ's pranking him.

Hawkeye and Trapper were almost always punching up at Frank. This would've been possible even if say, Trapper was of a similar class-background as BJ (I doubt it, but we don't know enough about Trapper to confirm) by having Frank and Margaret team up against Hawkeye and Trapper. It was a fair(er) fight. Frank and Margaret do outrank Hawkeye and Trapper which gives them a bit of an edge, but Hawkeye and Trapper have the moral high ground and "nothing to lose" since they've been drafted. Frank and Margaret even recognize that the odds are in their favour once Trapper leaves.

To circle back to my original point - why is the Frank Burns character so great:

1) Talk about committing to the bit. They didn't blink once with Frank - but even an unrealized potential for growth is still potential, and it's there, if you want to see it. Lesser shows have gone the route of "rehabilitating" such a character in order to "make them three dimensional" and Frank Burns proves there's no need for that. Frank is fictional so you can write him off if you want to, but my feeling is the reason people protest bad decisions made by "bad people" is because they believe change is possible.

2) Everyone was in on the joke. Not so with Charles and Potter. Charles was your 3:1 ratio of flaws to virtues that make up your "jerk with a heart of gold" or "redeemable villain". His class positioning should provoke a withering response from audiences, but he's softened by his 1-part virtue. Frank Burns is a smokescreen - something that anyone can point at and identify as a "bad person" within five seconds. But how much structural power does he have compared to Charles? It's a sort of power to be a literal white supremacist and still be a "redeemable villain" on television.

Potter is an outright villain and the narrative, tragically, has no idea. When Potter's army brass moments were framed positively, that's when MASH became a poor imitation of itself. It looks like MASH, but it doesn't sound like it. When Frank used to wax teary-eyed about the brave men of the United States Army, you could rely on Hawkeye and Trapper to cut him down immediately. In the later years, BJ and Hawkeye nod along solemnly to Potter's sermons about brave men serving their country and how he's so proud to be one of them. Frank babyyy, you're sorely missed.

#mash #frank burns #re: mash #lesser shows: it's the office. i'm talking about michael scott.#sometimes characters who are worse are better #class on MASH

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befuddled-calico-whump · 11 months ago

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Total $hit$how: Bombs Away

in which Joy overcomes her boredom

cw: adult language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

Things went from exciting to uneventful in record time. Even though they were on a supposed ‘tight schedule’, all they did was train and practice and practice and train.

Joy was no stranger to training overkill; she'd experienced it plenty in the army, but that at least made some sense. The army was full of dumbass kids who came in not knowing which way was up. Here wasn't.

...With maybe the exception of Harbor. The guy looked thirty, but sure as hell acted like a dumbass kid. It was hard for her to pinpoint how old he actually was.

Not that it really mattered. No matter their age, skill, or background, they were all monkeys in the same shitshow.

They'd been here for close to a week now, and they still hadn't been given more info for the all important file. Not to mention the fact that the mission made no sense to her.

Sure, they were all skilled. Jericho had proven he could bust down cyber walls better than a digital wrecking crew, and she'd seen Benji crack every lock Sahota tossed his way in seconds. Even Kaius, for all his insufferability, was adept at finding little details the rest of them missed. And though Harbor followed directions about as well as a deaf rat would follow the pied piper, he still had the biotech to give him an edge on whatever Sahota tasked them with.

Skills aplenty. But why couldn't whoever’d sought them out just helo some mercenaries to whatever floor the secret tech shit was on and bust it up? Why did it require so much finesse? If it was so important, if leaving the program alone would potentially doom the city, what was with all the secrecy? And maybe most importantly, why couldn't the almighty Sahota and Vic do it themselves?

It probably wasn't her business. She probably just didn't care enough about the polite subtleties tech conglomerates required to give a shit.

But the powers that be demanded secrets and fine tuning, so fuck it, she'd play their game.

Training was fun enough, but Joy could stand to complain about their downtime options. As far as she could tell, they could either read, work out in the gym that was set up on the far side of the training room, or mindlessly wander the hallways.

She'd checked out the little library, and hadn't found many books she was interested in reading. There was barely a shelf's worth of nonfiction; old equipment manuals and biographies of people she’d never heard of. There was a significantly higher amount of classic literature. The kind of shit you had to read in school, and probably her least favorite genre. She'd sifted through the paperbacks anyway, if only out of boredom. The most worn book was a copy of the dreaded 1984, and when she flipped through its pages, she found tally marks. A shit ton of them, like someone had been bored and just wanted to see how many they could make.

There were maybe a hundred to a page, carefully drawn in the margins. Weird as they were, Joy couldn't find anything that gave them context, even after devoting an evening to checking the rest of the books for markings.

Maybe someone had a weird sense of humor and just wanted to put down 1,984 tallies. Either way, it didn't seem worth it to lose her mind over, so at the end of the night, she'd just shelved it and gone to bed. That had only been day two. Who knew how much time she'd have to kill while waiting for the mission to kick off?

The compound was woefully lacking in the engineering department. It didn't even have a proper toolbox, at least not one she'd been able to find, and Joy resorted to swiping little bits of cutlery and disposables to build shit. Nothing useful, just little things to entertain herself.

Day three, she made a working crossbow out of toothpicks and dental floss. Day four, a tiny model plane crafted from broken plastic cutlery. By day seven, she was on the verge of dismembering the AC unit in her room, just to see if she'd be able to fix it without a manual.

Joy pondered if it would be worth it as the crew stood half-awake on the sparring side of the training room, waiting for the morning’s session to begin. Of course, she didn't exactly have tools, but maybe she could improvise something.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed everyone else suddenly look towards the door, and made an effort to point her gaze in the same direction and pretend to pay attention, even though her mind was elsewhere.

It was Vic who walked in. A little weird, since it was usually Sahota strutting through the doors, but Joy brushed it off.

“Good morning, everyone,” Vic said.

“Good morning,” she parroted with the rest.

Maybe she could find a butter knife in the kitchen? With enough dedication, she could probably shape it into a half-decent flathead.

“I heard you've all been doing well in your training,” Vic continued.

What if she ran into an allen bolt though? Well, if it wasn't recessed she could probably finger-loosen it with enough dedication, but if it was—

“Today I'm going to test your skills.”

Joy's gaze suddenly sharpened. A test? That was new. Did that mean they were finally close to getting this show on the road? She raised her hand, and waited for Vic to look her way.

“How are you gonna do that?”

“I've laid out a mock mission. I'll give you all an objective, and see how quickly you can meet it. And perhaps more importantly, how you meet it.” He folded his arms, offering a friendly smile. “I'm afraid I haven't had the time to watch every one of Sahota's sessions. I’d like to see how it's coming along with my own eyes.”

“Where is Sahota?” Kaius asked from beside her.

“He's on a mission. A real one.” Vic chuckled. “Can't come to the phone right now and all that.”

“What sort of mission?”

“Well now, I can't go handing you all the details, Mr. Manak. I'm sure you understand.”

Joy had already assumed Sahota was going somewhere. This morning, she'd caught him and Vic in the kitchen and she swore they'd been about to kiss. She'd awkwardly excused herself then ran to tell Jericho.

Poor Jer needed something to distract himself with. The two of them had learned that there was no wifi in the computer lab way back on day one. And since they couldn't leave the compound and didn't have communication devices of their own, that meant they were effectively cut off from the rest of the world.

Which did make sense, considering all the top secrets they'd supposedly be exposed to. Not to mention the fact that the base’s location was probably a secret in itself.

Joy could deal. Her family was used to her going months without contact. Jer, on the other hand, was used to working from home. He had a kid now, a six year old daughter, and fuck had it really been that long since she'd last seen him?

They’d only had a semester's worth of compsci partnership before she'd deployed for the third time, but they'd really hit it off. Kept in touch, more or less, though she'd never mentioned her shady weapons dealings and he'd never mentioned his secret hacker missions. Which made them even. And now their respective skills had brought them back together, so Joy couldn't complain.

She was a little hurt that he'd never mentioned his kid, but given his skillset, she got it. You could never be too safe when you had both a family and a dangerous hobby.

“Her name's Arabella,” he'd told her, passing over a wallet-sized photo of a grinning girl with an assortment of wildflowers poking out of her softly-coiled afro. “Her mom took that on her birthday this year. She wanted a fairy princess party. That's the reason for all the flowers.”

“She's adorable.”

“She's a handful,” Jer said, smiling a proud-dad smile as he put away the picture. “She's the only reason I agreed to do this.”

Joy didn't have to ask what he meant. She didn't know what was at stake for the rest of the team, but for the two of them, it was just as much about protecting their loved ones as it was staying out of jail. It wasn't the government she had to worry about, or pride, or how society might judge her family. It was old enemies. People who would see her picture on the news and suddenly know where to look for her weaknesses. She imagined Jericho was in the exact same boat.

Vic clapped his hands together; a relatively soft sound, but enough to jerk her focus back into the moment.

“If everyone is ready, I'll brief you on your tasking.” He strolled over to one of the built-in metal cabinets that lined the sparring area, punching in a code on a keypad that prompted the doors to slide open. Inside, on the shelves, were what Joy could only describe as high-tech basketballs.

Or at least they were roughly the size and shape of a basketball. Most similarities ended there. They were smooth metal, with fine seams that suggested interior electronics, and a lense that was almost like… no shit.

“Are those robots?” Joy blurted out, forgetting to raise her hand this time.

Vic smiled. “Sharp, Miss Cavan. They are. Or drones, rather.” He took one in his hands, thumbing a button on the side, and the thing whirred to life, lifting itself from Vic’s grasp and hovering there.

Joy watched it with wide eyes. How was it floating? There was no propelling system or engine she could see, was it—?

“Electromagnetism,” Vic said, as if answering her thoughts. “We have a weak field that covers the training grounds.”

“Fancy stuff,” Jericho murmured.

“Is that our task?” Benji asked, gesturing at the drone. It swiveled in the air, facing its camera towards him, and he took a cautious step back. “Those… thingies?”

“On the contrary,” Vic said, moving to activate the other two. “The drones will act as a stand-in for armed security guards. They'll attempt to prevent you from reaching your goal.”

Benji gave an exaggerated wince. “But the drones aren't armed, are they?”

“They are.”

Joy's eyes flew to the trio of bots, scanning for weapons capabilities. Based on their size, they didn't have the carrying capacity for ammo or a full auto system. Not that she assumed Vic was willing to shoot them, but…

“Each drone is equipped with the equivalent of a cattle prod. Nothing that'll do permanent damage, but enough to give you a sting.”

Benji took a bigger step backwards. At this point, Joy was probably the only one in range of said ‘equivalent of a cattle prod’, but she didn't care. If anything, she wanted them to come at her so she could watch how they deployed their attack. Fuck, she’d give her left arm to take one of these apart. Maybe Vic would let her mess around with their armaments? She could probably devise a ranged electrical attack, if she could just get a look at the internals. She'd done similar shit in the gun shop, and she'd worked with some low-grade drones when she was still running arms overseas. Shouldn't be too tough to combine the two.

“What is our task?” Kaius took a step forward, so that he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, his eyes on the drones. “What goal will they be trying to prevent us from reaching?”

At that, Vic drew out another metallic device, this one boxy and covered in so many screens and buttons Joy figured most were just for decoration.

Vic set it down, typing a quick sequence into a keypad next to the cabinet. A giant sound, like stone dominoes, echoed out from behind them, and Joy whirled around.

The concrete pad that stretched between the sparring mats and the gym equipment was moving, shifting around like tectonic fucking plates and rearranging into something that looked like an abstract painting; huge cement cubes stacking into a maze of stairs that nearly reached the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” Joy whispered. “How does that work?”

Vic chuckled. “I can’t give away every secret, Miss Cavan.”

“Can I come work for you guys?”

“We'll see.” He hefted up the metallic box, fidgeting with some of the buttons and dials on one of its faces.

“Alright, team, listen up,” Vic said, raising his voice to draw their attentions back from the newly formed obstacle course. “This,” he held up the box, “is a bomb.”

Joy raised her eyebrows, again scanning its surface. If it was a bomb, its fuzing was total overkill. But given her current surroundings, she guessed she shouldn't be too shocked.

“It's… like a real bomb?” Benji asked, but Vic’s only reply was a smile. He pressed a button, and the side facing them lit up in a garish, movie-style countdown. Digital red, seconds already ticking away.

“Shit,” Benji muttered.

“I trust you understand your goal then.” Vic pressed another button and the box spun out of his hands, hovering alongside the drones for a moment before disappearing into the maze of concrete that now stood in the center of the room.

“Evade the drones. Disarm the bomb. You have one hour.”

He grinned at the collection of shocked faces surrounding him.

“Try not to die.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations

#joy is also fun skdjfjjr my easily bored gal #total$hit$how #writing #not exactly whump per say but i feel the need to establish everyone before i go wild

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anthurak · 2 years ago

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So I’d like to ramble a bit on a few interesting background details I’ve been noticing in Witch From Mercury, and just why exactly Aerial seems so damn OP compared even to other Gundams.

Consider for a moment what we’ve see of non-Aerial Gundams we’ve seen in the series proper so far; the Pharact Gundam, and the Lfrith Ur and Thorn. Now let’s compare these units with the Gundams we saw in the Prologue, specifically the two Lfrith Test-type units. When you get down to it, there really isn’t much underlying difference between them, is there? Sure, the Pharact and the modern Lfrith units may have newer and flashier armor and weapons, but they’re clearly running on the same GUND-Format system seen in the Test units back in the Prologue. Right down to seeing Elan 4, Sophia and Norea use the Permet score system the same way that Nadim and Wendy used it.

I think we can look at the Lfrith Test models seen in the prologue as representing a ‘First Generation’ of Gundams. The first functional ‘proof of concept’ for the GUND-Format system. A brand new piece of technology that functions on a basic level but still has major problems to be solved before it can be considered actually feasible. With that in mind, for as cool and flashy as the Pharact and modern Lfrith units might be, they really represent little more than incremental refinements to what Vanadis and Ochs Earth created twenty years prior. Heck, it’s almost certain at this point that the Lfrith Thorn and Ur actually ARE the original Lfrith test-units, having been recovered after the purge of Vanadis and given extensive retrofits and upgrades. Yet at the end of the day, neither Peil Tech or the Benerit group as a whole has managed to actually advance Gundam technology beyond what Vanadis developed.

Now let’s look at the other Gundam seen back in the Prologue; the main Lfrith Gundam. Because it’s pretty clear this was something entirely different. It’s pretty clear looking back at the Prologue that the Lfrith Gundam was meant to be the true next step in Gundam technology. At the very least, a means of making the GUND-Format system actually safe to use, and based on Cardo Nobo’s vague musings, probably a whole lot else we don’t know about yet.

Basically, if the Lfrith Test-types can be thought of as ‘First Generation’ Gundams, than the main Lfrith Gundam is a Second Generation Gundam. Representing a fundamental growth in the development of Gundam Technology. Just what exactly made Lfrith so different we can only guess at right now, though we can pretty safely assume that Artificial Intelligence was a MAJOR factor. The only problem was that by the time of the Prologue, Vanadis still hadn’t managed to crack the problem of getting Lfrith working.

At least until Cardo had the bright idea of plugging a small child into it.

Just from what little we see of Lfrith in action during the prologue, she is clearly something very different from even Gundams fielded twenty years later. Lfrith is able to utterly decimate trained mobile suit pilots with only the vaguest and even unknowing commands from Eri and the GUND-Format clearly has absolutely NONE of the previous unit’s harmful effects on Eri, even showing a different colored aura on her face.

And unlike the Test-units, the Lfrith Gundam managed to get away from that battle. Meaning that only Elnora/Prospera and the resurgent Ochs Earth have had access to the secrets and new developments of the Lfrith Gundam.

Meaning that while the Benerit group has been dinking around with the old, janky First Generation GUND-Format system that will straight up melt its users brain if it’s pushed even a little too far, Ochs Earth has spent the last twenty years research, refining and perfecting their Second Generation Gundam technology.

Really, is it any wonder that Aerial and Suletta have been able to run circles around and basically CURBSTOMP more or less every opponent they’ve gone up against, including other Gundams?

They effectively have a full tech-generation and twenty years’ worth of development lead over every other Gundam in existence right now. And of course that’s not even touching on what else Aerial might have up her sleeve…

#gundam #gundam witch from mercury #g-witch #g-witch rambling #g-witch analysis #g-witch theory #Aerial Gundam #Lfrith Gundam #gundam lfrith pre-production model #gundam pharact #gundam lfrith thorn #gundam lfrith ur

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dottiechan · 11 months ago

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TWC Secret Santa @wayhavensecretsanta ❄ - Happy holidays, @ejunkiet!

It was an absolute pleasure to create for you, I love Lizzie and Ava so much!!! 🩵 I couldn't decide whether to draw or write, so enjoy a bit of both. (BTW I seriously recommend @ejunkiet's fics of their detective OC Lizzie Quail, they're so good.) Happy holidays again! xx P.s. If you saw me accidentally post a draft of my gift to you a few days before... Shhh no you didn't. 🥲

Summary: After Unit Bravo's holiday dinner with Detective Lizzie Quail, Felix realises all the photos he took with his polaroid camera are botched.

Wordcount: 835

Warnings: smoking, Fuzzy Holidays Feels™

Too blurry. Too crowded. Mason is holding up his middle finger. Not focused on the subject. Ava appears to be sneering?

The polaroids scatter on the floor as they’re being dropped, Felix’s frustration seemingly travelling through his fingertips and into the botched pictures as they skitter across the parquet. He had such high hopes for this holiday dinner they’ve panned - he even volunteered, much to Nat’s suspicion, to help decorate the warehouse to prepare the background for his perfect winter photos. There doesn’t seem to be a single wall or piece of furniture without strings of fairy lights or garlands hanging off them - and yet somehow, he managed to mess up all the pictures he took.

“I should have just used my phone, not this stupid polaroid Nat gave me,” he grumbles, as he sinks to the floor dramatically from the sofa. He turns his head to the left, expecting a response from Mason, but aside from the shrug of a shoulder, and a puff of smoke, he’s as disinterested as always. Felix allows his head to loll right now, and peeks through the open doors into the dining room, but his other team members are too far to share in his misery. Lizzie is in the middle of a story, which has Nat’s full attention, and Ava’s full, well, everything? Attention, adoration, respect, senses, everything. They’re cute, the way they hold hands over the table, how Ava squeezes Lizzie's hand encouragingly when she trails off or gets embarrassed by her own rambling. Felix hoped he would capture a moment between them, something candid, something like right now, but he’s missed his windows of opportunity - like for instance when Ava finally allowed herself to be dragged under the mistletoe with Lizzie, but their picture was ruined by the detective spilling her drink all over herself.

“Felix?”

“Leave me alone,” he replies, but he also cracks one eye open to make sure Nat, who’s just entered the room, doesn’t lose interest in his pity party on the floor. But she’s already retreating, so he starts flailing his limbs as if he were making a snow angel in the sea of polaroids. “Please don’t leave me alone. Mason won’t talk to me and I’m embarrassed. I messed up all the pictures. I tried taking them like you showed me but I messed up.”

“They’re not so bad,” Nat says kindly as she sits with her friend, plucking the odd semi-decent pictures from the ground. “See? This is lovely.”

“Yeah, but Lizard has hot chocolate spilt on her sweater in that one.”

“Don’t call her that,” Mason grumbles, as he sweeps some polaroids off his lap - the by-product of Felix’s snow angel performance - and flicks his cigarette into the flames of the fireplace. Nat pretends not to see, but the pain flashing across her features has already made Felix feel a little better. They spend the better of the next hour going through the pictures and sorting them out, while Mason sits close-by, smoking, lost in his thoughts. All that breaks their peace is Frank Sinatra’s drawling voice coming from the record player, and the occasional laughter from the lovebirds still camped in the dining room. By the end of it, they’re left with a handful of decent-ish photographs, and Felix wastes no time sticking them into the photo album he got from Lizzie for Christmas.

There was a moment today, a moment worth capturing, one that was befitting of the old silver screen movies Nat made him and Lizzie watch, between Ava and their beloved detective. Naturally, Felix - a rotten romantic at heart - is pissed that he wasn’t able to capture it. It was a moment far better than the forced kiss under the mistletoe, a moment of intimacy, when the pair thought they were away from prying eyes. A hand under Lizzie’s jaw, Ava’s eyes fixed on the prize, wanting to kiss but being unable to take their eyes off of each other… Obviously the shutter of the camera ruined it, causing the pair step away from each other, and Lizzie to hide her blushing cheeks behind the curtain of her frizzy hair, but that’s beside the point. They were happy. Maybe happier than he’s ever seen them. Things are often so fucked up, with the odds always stacked against them, that Felix sometimes lives in the comfort of these moments. He lives in his family’s happiness, in his friends’ laughter, in Lizzie’s tight hugs, in Ava’s pats on the shoulder… If he could, he’d capture all these moments in a jar and keep them very close always. Photographs are the next best thing - which is why he’s bummed out the picture he took of this moment must be so unrecognisable that it was swallowed by his sea of botched photographs.

He’s lost in thought when Mason nudges his shoulder, a polaroid of Lizzie and Ava in his hand stretched towards him.

“Found this under the sofa. Not too bad, if you’re into this lovey-dovey shit.”

#twc secret santa #ava du mortain #twc detective #twc fanart #twc fanfic #dottiechanart #dottiechan writes #digital art #other people's ocs

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irish-urn · 7 months ago

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I absolutely LOVED your response, and I agree! thanks for spending time on it <3 what draws me in about dasey is how complex it is, its forbidden love, “if its wrong I don’t want to be right”, the family dynamic, the drama, the suspense! so it’s always a let down when they hype it up so much and then nothing happens lol I want to see how dasey faces this hardship and how they present themselves moving forward. I’m so curious to hear about your after-LWL hc! I wonder how the family would react now that kids and divorce are involved. I know you’re currently writing a series about this so you don’t have to reveal too much, but how would Casey and Derek handle this as young adults? It’s not all unicorns and rainbows when dasey gets together, there’s definitely a storm coming.

LOOK, I didn't understand Taylor Swift's reputation album before I re-discovered Dasey. But now I do understand; and someone please remind me to put "But Daddy, I Love Him" on my kick at the darkness playlist because... Damn. If that isn't them.

Ohhhh Life With Luca!! You're right, I am writing a series about this — I'm actually writing, like, three parts all at once? (*hides face in shame*). The really interesting thing about the LWL world, though, is that Derek and Casey's priorities have shifted. No longer are they majorly concerned with George and Nora's opinions, but instead they're far more worried about Luca, Molly, Kai, and Skyler's opinions. And, maybe it's just me being a bit of a romantic, but I truly believe the only one of those four that would have some trouble with them getting together would be Luca: and that's because he still has a relationship with his dad. So for his mom to move on would be very painful for him to witness; but he's also very obviously fond of Derek. The six of them just really worked as a unit in the movie, and I think everyone can see that.

I strongly believe that Skyler would do everything in her power to see her dad happy; I actually HC that she figures out his feelings for Casey within weeks of them moving into the Guest House. And as for Molly and Kai -- we never see them even mention their dad, except for one instance where Kai says that "Mom and Dad don't let us swear"; and Molly tells Skyler that she wishes they could be "cousins AND sisters" -- so I think they're far more concerned with everyone being happy and them getting the attention they need than any social weirdness.

SO! With all that being said, I'm working on a part of that series where Dasey are together (because we all know that's where we're headed) and there is drama happening in the background. There's a little bit about how George and Nora did not react well -- to quote one part, "…Unfortunately, Nora and George were not handling this new relationship with any sort of grace, and there was no way they were going to take the kids so Derek and Casey could happily fuck themselves into oblivion." -- and I think Nora and George are choosing to view this relationship as a TERRIBLE REBOUND for Casey and both of them are calling Derek and Casey incredibly selfish and have they even thought about the kids?

(This, of course, made both Derek and Casey livid because, uh? George and Nora got engaged before ANY of them had met ANY of the other family; so who's considering who now???? Where they currently stand in that part of the series is that both parties are giving the other the silent treatment.)

I still think Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti would react the same way, no matter the ages. There's a little bit of concern regarding the children, but as soon as they checked in and saw that Derek and Casey are constantly checking in with the children and being as open as they can about the whole thing, I think they would just... be happy for them.

But Simon is struggling. Simon is struggling because he sees these two as his big BIG siblings, and unlike the others where blood only connects half of them, he IS connected by blood to ALL OF THEM. And, y'know, Casey has been with Peter for as long as Simon can remember -- one of his earliest memories is getting to hold baby!Luca. But Casey is so obviously happy and calmer with Derek, and Derek is happy and HOME so Simon can actually SEE him; so he's trying very hard to get on board. He fails a bit, says some things he probably shouldn't, but he's trying really, really, really hard.

I think, if he were a child, it would be easier for him to adapt. With my kick at the darkness series, for instance, he won't bat an eye — he's never going to remember a time when they weren't together, so he'll just... accept it as a part of his weird family. I'm currently playing with a sequel to "sick with sadness" as well, and he's 9/10 in that story; he finds it weird and kind of gross, but with the middle McTuris' help, he adapts quickly too. I got the sense from LWL that Simon loves Derek and Casey a whole bunch; looks up to them and trusts them, much like the younger three looked up to them in LWD. So I think love is going to win.

The fun thing is, I can actually see divorced!Casey caring a lot less about her mother's opinion about her and Derek because Casey has already been through a failed relationship, one where she tried to do the right thing -- I am a strong believer that Derek took off in LWL canon because he and Casey were teetering on the edge of the knife and someone stepped over the line and the other panicked. I suspect Derek is the one that leaned in too close or said something, and Casey FREAKED, and so he took off -- and doing the right thing didn't last. It hasn't stopped her from loving Derek, nor from him loving her. So why should she fight it any longer? She's already hurt the two of them enough; so what if Nora isn't happy? Casey is an adult living on her own, and she's tired of doing only what she's supposed to. She's going to get it right this time -- very much in the same way Nora is determined to get it right this second time too. Gosh, they really are mother and daughter, huh?

(Any other questions? I'm still not sure I really answered this one correctly...)

#life with derek #asks #life with luca #dasey #i just love the complications #*chews on it like jerky*

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stories-me · 7 days ago

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Potential Character for Mrs. Kelsey and Tumblr 10/30/2024:

Jill Jones, Military Watchog:

What she’s from: Pokémon Armonia.

What she could be in: Gamma World.

Personality:

Jill is a serious hard worker. Being raised by a cop, she also has a strong sense of justice and is ready to help anyone in need. But she also expects good manners and the same seriousness from others and she might give you a long rant if you fool around too much. She is easy to work with (if you are on the same page with work ethics) but it’s a bit harder to make friends with her since she usually considers everyone as just work partners. But if you manage to stick around long enough, Jill will warm up to you and show that deep down, there is a normal girl. She is a bit competitive and eager to prove her skills in any situation.

When under the influence of the Shadow Virus (which unlocks one’s “darker side”), she becomes a laughing maniac, as opposed to her usual, reserved personality.

Background:

Originally from a world where Pokémon not only existed, but became anthropomorphic and replaced humanity as the dominant species, Jill grew up in the underground slums of Goldenrod City. She and her family lived a modest life. They weren’t very rich, but they never complained and did their best. Even from a very young age, Jill has always had a strong sense of justice thanks to her father who worked at the local police unit. She admired him and always dreamed of a similar career path. Thus, she is always ready, willing and able to help those who need help. She used to spend most of her days patrolling the underground mazes and playing at being a guard. Despite all of this, she is not easy Pokémon to make friends with. Jill’s mindset is: “work first and fun later (never)”.

Jill had only one Pokémon who she called friend, a young Flaaffy. She was the one who encouraged Jill to apply for the Pokémon Armonia Institute. There she could train with elites and hopefully become a better fighter. Not to mention strengthen her other skills that she would need in life. Jill agreed and sent her application letter… Hopefully this school would help her to improve her battle skills and most important, teach her how to have fun and make friends.

After spending two terms in Armonia Institute, she has learned a lot and grew a lot stronger. Well, a lot sure has happened! From party events to turning into an ice type, or turning pink. Huge fire on the island and PIRATES! Thankfully things seem to be calming down now and normal school life can continue. She has learned to relax a bit but is still quite serious about her grades. She has met some other students but made only one good friend. (you need to do better Jill).

When Jill turned 15, she made a wish of finally evolving. Jirachi blessed the little Patrat with her wish and Jill evolved into a Watchog. Jill was ecstatic and she feels now she has a bright future ahead (pun intended).

Years after school, she became part of the military… but then, things went somewhat wrong, due to the Big Mistake, and she found herself thrust into Gamma World, where, after finding out about them, she allied with the Restorationists, a group determined to rebuild the United States of America (while taking into account the… “alterations” the Big Mistake caused).

How she is like me:

We both want to help others and can be quite determined. In addition, we both have a strong sense of justice. Also, we usually have good manners, and have a few friends… though one stands out, in my opinion: Trey, a good friend who I’ve known since Elementary School. Frankly, if you want to be my friend, helping me with fan fictions is a good way to start.

How she is NOT like me:

Sometimes, I find it hard to relax, in certain situations.

Kelsey Notes:

While we tend to become friends with those we share common interests with, it is also important to consider the other interests your friends share outside of fan fictions

For example, in zoom we have many different conversations (from the weather, current events, upcoming shows/movies, etc) in addition to something you might add about fan fictions because it’s a big chunk of time

People are able to talk to you at fan fictions for varying amounts of time, some 5-10 minutes, other conversations can go longer depending on how strong their interests in fan fictions are

While Jill is serious about her work and goals, it is important for her to be flexible and shift her focus to other things if she wants to engage in social activities

Her time at the Armonia Institute can be comparable to your time at Inspire- they keep you engaged in a variety of activities which has expanded your ability to focus on other things besides fan fictions

Despite how strongly you preferred to spend time looking at fan fictions, you became determined to participate in life more

You realized a strong sense of boredom and loneliness even when spending time with fan fictions

This realization has helped you stay focused on other activities to create more balance in your life

In creating more balance in your life, you can now hold conversations with others that aren’t related to fan fictions without getting frustrated

You have bonded more with your social network and look forward to time chatting with friends and going out in the community with others

Jill might be a good example for task initiation when it comes to the big mistake- other characters might be overwhelmed with a task like rebuilding the USA

Sometimes we get so overwhelmed with a big task we need someone to help push us to just get started so we don’t overthink on what needs to be done

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reiverreturns · 11 months ago

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I’m only starting to get into f1 can you explain the offseason f1 vs fia drama I wanna understand it

I certainly can m'love!

So a little bit of background context before I get into the meat. This whole drama centres around three main players. The first of these is Susie Wolff, an ex-DTM and F1 development driver, former CEO of Formula E, and now MD of the all-female series F1 Academy reporting directly into Stefano Domenicali. She also happens to be married to Toto Wolff (our second player), Team Principal of Mercedes AMG. Our third player is Mohammed Ben Sulayem, current FIA president who has been plagued with accusations of fostering sexism as of late as well as being an outright misogynist, stating that he thought women were stupider than men on a personal website prior to his election. He is also well known for not being popular in the ranks of F1, who see him as a powerplayer and someone who continually overreaches to influence the sport to an unreasonable degree.

SO. This all starts with swirling media rumours that earlier this season there was an incident in a TP meeting where Toto accidentally shared confidential insider information that triggered a complaint from one or more of the other team principals. The implication here was that Susie told Toto the insider info because she's his wife and apparently doesn't give a shit about professional integrity. Anyway the FIA confirmed this in a statement yesterday and said their Compliance Department is actively looking into the matter as a potential conflict of interest. Neither Toto, Susie, Merc, F1, or anyone else had been notified of this investigation and learned with all the rest of us through the press release that this was an ongoing investigation. Susie Wolff sends the most dignified and classy fuck you of all time via instagram and I fall in love with her a little more

Still, it's fair to investigate a complaint, right? Well here's the thing - this evening every single F1 team (bar Merc obvs) have released a statement saying they did not complain to the FIA about a potential conflict of interest. And if no one complained, the FIA have basically been caught with their pants down. They have either 1. taken grossly inappropriate action based on one shitty media report, 2. have lied about their reasons for investigating the Wolffs and Susie in particular, or 3. given the entire F1 paddock reason to lie about this which seems very unrealistic. F1 teams will happily throw one another under the bus for a dime there would have to be something immense happening to make them unite like this.

It's hard not to see this mess as a classic Ben Sulayem overreach and extremely sexist gamble to try and oust Susie Wolff from her senior position in the organisation. It's also hard not to see the teams' action tonight as a coordinated attempt to put pressure on the FIA and for Ben Sulayem to resign. Either way, someone's lied on an extremely public stage, put people's careers at risk, and the fallout is going to go on well into the new year.

Oh, and the FIA end of season awards show is on Friday. You know, the one some members of the Merc team got fined for not attending a few years ago when Hamilton got screwed out of an eighth world title. Lol. That should be a barrel of laughs.

Anyway that's what you missed on Glee I hope it helps/made some sense?!

#it's soooooooo messy #only hating on Sulayem could unite the grid so fully lmao. peace and love on planet earth.#formula 1 #f1

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kylekozmikdeluxo · 4 months ago

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5 Random (Sometimes Brief) Hyperfixations of Mine

One of the fun things about being autistic isn’t just the hyper fixations that become part of your official lore, but also the weirder, sometimes brief obsessions that really came and went. Maybe not necessarily what might form your core interests, but still a good-sized part of you.

They formed a strong camp in your brain for about 2-3 months, maybe even a little longer, and then just left as you developed a new obsession… And you sometimes get the urge, years later, to revisit some of those things… Or maybe they are still firm interests of yours, but they’re just in your massive file cabinet room that forms up most of your electric head meat... sharing space with a gazillion other things…

I’ll share some of mine with you today, on this Disability Pride Month. (Yeeehoo! I get two Pride months in a row!)

MAPS/ATLAS/GLOBES - As far back as first grade, 1998/99, I was really into how road layouts worked. Just how all the roads I was on, they looked like interlocking noodle grids when seen from above... And how maps and atlases, carefully done up by people, depicting them. I would get lost for hours in one of my dad's county atlas books, and soon I began to know where everything was. Which exit took you to which, etc. As you could imagine, I really really like SIM CITY and stuff like that back in the day.

But also maps in general. A playground my dad took me and my sister to had a painted U.S. map on the pavement, and I remember learning my states through that before school taught me all of that, or that episode of ANIMANIACS. I had at least one globe as a child, too, and was often mesmerized by it. Learning all the different countries around the world... Fun stuff, and because of that, I can name countries adults older than me (I'm 31 and a 1/2) have never even heard of... Yeeeeah, kinda concerning? Anyways, I think the street maps will always be the ones I liked the most. I still find them fascinating, especially when there are overhead maps of environments in video games. Could stare at those aaaaall day.

THE TITANIC - I think us autistics and neurodees all had THAT phase at one point in our lives. Titanic, Greek mythology, Ancient [Insert Civilization Here]… In third grade, in the year 2000, my class had a unit on the Titanic. I had already been aware of the Titanic because of that little 1997 indie movie that few people heard of, but that was just something in the background for me. I remember hearing the Celine Dion song incessantly on the radio, too. (Not complaining, I think it’s a lovely song.)

From there, the design of the ship fascinated me, and I got into Titanic for a little bit. I had a big coffee table book about the ship, and found what had to have been a clearance copy of the 1996 PC game TITANIC: ADVENTURE OUT OF TIME. I played that A LOT, it’s a favorite of mine, a fascinating and sometimes ominous alt-history sort of suspense/mystery adventure. I also had this random VHS about the Titanic, I couldn’t tell you what it was… It wasn’t the 1950s Titanic movie, it was some black-and-white, almost documentary-like look at the ship? I remember just getting that VHS somewhere, and I have no idea where it went… By early-to-mid 2001, I think that phase sorta set sail…

LENNY LOOSEJOCKS - The adventures of a string cheese-looking Aussie and his canine Donga, LENNY LOOSEJOCKS came from an indie flash game site called Ezone. Launched in 1995, I remember spending quite some time on that site around 2000/01-ish (you know, in the dial-up days of Internet), playing the variety of weird little games they had. Of all the LENNY LOOSEJOCKS games, the one I played the most was the cosmic one, LENNY LOOSEJOCKS IN SPACE.

I was aaaaall about that for some time, and while I had already learned about the Solar System in school (and was subsequently fascinated by all of that), this just made me appreciate it all even more. Each planet had a unique atmosphere and look to it, and the lack of music and the ambience really immersed me into those planets- I know, I’m talking about some flash game that inspired me greatly as a kid, not STAR WARS or whatever cool kids who had “actual” childhoods grew up with, lol. Anyways, yeah, this was my STAR WARS, my Roman Empire, something like that. I probably write so much cosmic/space/galactic stuff largely because of this game.

DRACULA - This one’s rather weird, I think it was spurred by a Hostess commercial from around late 2001/early 2002 where an ersatz Dracula transforms into a bat and flies headfirst into a neon sign that resembles Hostess’ signature telephone cord-looking cupcakes. I found a VHS of the 1931 Bela Lugosi DRACULA sitting around (not sure how that got into my orbit), and just sorta started drawing and writing a lot of horror-tinged, weird vampire stuff for a little bit. I remember whenever I’d play with my Casio keyboard back in the day, there was a pitch shifter wheel of sorts. I remember pressing the keys on the organ setting and using that dial to make it sound like a distorted horror movie soundtrack. From a beat-up film print. Even 9-year-old me in early 2002 picked up on those sorts of things.

I’ve always had a thing for the dark, the macabre, the gothic, and such. Even went as a vampire for a few Halloweens. I also remember doing a book report (this is around fourth grade) for the book DRACULA DOESN’T DRINK LEMONADE, from the series THE BAILEY SCHOOL KIDS. I just thought the idea was pretty cool and creepy, and to this day? I still think vampires are pretty cool, and I sometimes incorporate them into what I write.

THE ROAMING GNOME - Around the mid-2000s, Travelocity - the online travel agency - ran a series of commercials featuring a little garden gnome with an offscreen voice. I caught a couple of the commercials circa summer 2005, one where he get zapped across a room by an electrical outlet…

youtube

And another where he gets hit by a cart at the airport…

youtube

12-year-old me thought these were the height of comedy GOLD. I quoted these constantly, and it was to the point where one of my uncles went out of his way to buy me… A whole-ass GNOME. And we had that at my dad’s place for a little while, I think it got chipped up over time or stored away somewhere. I’d love to find it again, if it’s all in one piece lol.

#Youtube #disability pride #autistic #hyperfixations #random stuff i was into #2000s #i was a weird kid #i'm still weird #1990s #90s kid

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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 4 months ago

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I Do, Do You? chapter 7: Helping

WC: 6,875 Ao3

Another week passes with Luke going in to work, but also coming home in the evenings, no active away cases. They take Roxy on morning walks through the park and around the neighborhood at night. He holds her hand and he holds her waist, he holds her when they sleep, and when he forgets himself, he kisses her fingers and her cheeks…but he always stops short of kissing her, much too much loaded behind it now.

As much as she tries not to think about it, not let it bother her, she can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t...and if he will before their time is up. She’s been quite patient and they’ve had much less time than other couples on the show, but even by regular relationship standards she would have jumped some bones by now.

Still, she believes him when he’d said he finds her attractive, that he has “lots of feelings” for her… she holds on to that, holds on to the bits of himself he gives.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, Penelope’s getting dressed and ready in the bedroom for a late park walk when she hears Luke talking on the phone in the living room.

“What about Alvez’ new wife?”

He had mentioned off-hand to Tara and Matt that Penelope was highly skilled with computers, he’d told them about her expertise (he might have been bragging), and alluded to her past, but he made sure to leave out her identity.

She left that life behind, he wanted to respect her privacy, that was for her alone to tell. He knew they’d still want her if they knew, knew the bureau could dream up charges to get her to agree...

“Ha. Tar, I know you’d love nothing more than a chance to see her again, and if things keep going the way they are, maybe I’ll have her meet me for lunch so you all can gawk from that fishbowl before we vanish into the elevator, but I am not bringing a civilian into what we do. Definitely not her.”

He’s on a group call, the team in the office, Luke at home, day four of testing out his ‘working from home unless absolutely needed’ routine, a new compromise from Prentiss to make up for all the away cases they’d had since the wedding now that things have gone into a lull.

When he told Penelope about the offer she jokingly declared she was going to write thank you notes to the whole of the BAU and the director of the FBI and send them along with a batch of each of their favorite cookies, he chose to ignore exactly how she was going to get that information.

Penelope thinks it’s nice having him around, someone to talk to and banter with, a chance for them to get closer. She’s enjoyed showing off her work with SOAR, and baking for them (he especially likes her chocolate chip cookies, and her dog cookies for Roxy). She’s hopeful the temporary arrangement will help more with the needed work/home mindset adjustment he’s had such trouble with, that it’ll continue to ease him into a better balance, maybe even make him realize other things can be important too… maybe even more important sometimes…

Luke, however, doesn’t think blending work and home have been a good idea, he’s felt on edge running background on cases remotely, choosing his words carefully so that other ears don’t overhear, always keeping the cursor primed to minimize a screen should something be up and she walk by. This phone call, what his unit is now trying to goad him into agreeing to has only added to the “bad idea” camp. To him this phone call is the start of the end.

“Luke, she does sound like an excellent resource-”

“My WIFE is not a resource,” The comment is sudden, and volatile, and about her? Piquing her interest, her head angles up and her body leans towards the door from in front of his dresser mirror. What follows is quiet, but can only be compared to a roar in intensity, “she is a person who did not ask to be around what we see everyday!”

“Luke, no one is saying-”

“No, no one is thinking,” he counters angrily, “She volunteers at an animal rescue! She runs a support group for grieving families. She doesn’t even eat meat! Prentiss- She’s. No. I, I get it, she has very valuable skills, ones that would-”

“That could break this for us.” Prentiss finishes in her maddeningly even voice. “She’s compassionate, right? Then Luke, we’ll shield her… but if she’d be willing to do some deep digging…Help us nail this guy…We can protect her, Luke. But if she’s really that good, think about the victims that could be saved, the ones that could be prevented… Aren’t they worth it?”

Penelope tiptoes on her stockinged feet to the door, positioning herself in a better spot to eavesdrop on the fractured conversation.

“Absolutely not. No. I already told you I will not ask her. She will not do it.”

Balancing work and his personal life was already proving to be a battle, combining the two in this way was a sure-fire recipe for disaster, he just didn’t know which would blow up first.

“Luke, you know we’re down, you know this could help. We’ve been after this guy for months-”

“Don’t- don’t do this to me Lewis, don’t push that line- Find another way. Find. Another. Person.”

The words are chillingly cold. Penelope bites her lower lip, peeking out from the crack in the door and jerks back, swallowing a squeak as he erupts in a furious growl, pitching his phone at the armchair across from himself.

She’s never seen him so mad, seen this side of him. Knowing it had something to do with her, that he was being protective over her, ignites a part of her she’d just as well not acknowledge and makes her all the more curious as to what exactly was being asked on the other end.

Timidly, she opens the door and comes out sittings on the edge of the couch closest to where he now slumps in the other orange chair. “Another case?”

There’s an intake of breath before he answers, “-Sort of,” he sighs, defeated, unable to look at her, not wanting to fall back into how things were, knowing that eventually he’d have to anyway, and preparing for the disappointment she’s about to unload and the disappointment of letting down his team.

She had gotten him to open up a few days ago while making dinner, maybe if she prodded gently, he’d be willing to do it again. Taking a page out of his book, Penelope reaches out, covering his hand with hers, then positions herself, kneeling in front of him, settling back on her heels, “…Can I ask who won’t do what, or is that top secret?”

Luke looks down at her with a wry smile, this magical woman, this genius funny sexy talented woman he didn’t deserve sinking to her knees in front of him, looking up at him like that; wide eyed, innocent, trusting, glossy lips and blushing round cheeks and blushing round...

His eyes zip back to hers, pleading, entreating. There was a god, and he was evil, “You.” he says after a struggle that feels like millennia, “The team… they want me to ask you to help us. Tara remembered what I said about how good you are, your specific talent-”

“You talk about me?”

“Penelope-” The genuine perplexity of it is a knife digging neatly into his chest, the fact that she thought she could be so easily out of sight, out of mind. Was it everyone before him, or was it just him who had made her feel that way?

She kneels up, wiggling as she waves a hand dismissively, “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Go on.”

Despite the situation he smirks in response. “My boss feels someone with your skills could really help us. But I told them no. I don’t want to put you in that position. -It’s too much of a ris-”

“I’ll do it.” The words are out before he has a chance to finish his sentence.

“No, I’m not-”

Kneeling up again she places a single polished finger against his lips, “Luke. SHH. If it’ll help, I’ll do it.”

He hesitates, he doesn’t want to make her aware- more aware of that world, of his world, he doesn’t want to put her in that position, but even he had mentioned how they scout for individuals who specialize in doing what she can do and she’d be the first to tell you, she is the best. He knows if she’s willing, it isn’t up to him, still he wants to make his position clear, "Penelope, I am not asking you to do this, don’t feel like you need to-"

Removing her finger, she caresses his cheek, thumb stroking and smoothing the concern at the corners of his eyes. He brings a large hand up to cup her own, holding it to his face, eyes closing. Luke nuzzles into the warmth of her, holding her to him he turns his head, she holds her breath, stomach knotting as he places a soft kiss to her palm.

Penelope’s tongue unsticks her lips, “You’re not asking me, I’m volunteering. This isn’t for you,” she lies, “You told me before, I’m like a superhero…well, superheroes work together. I want to help.”

Working together on something he deemed important would bring them together, they were still trying to connect, to catch up… they needed to take opportunities as they came, and this would let them learn more about each other. “I want to do this. Luke, I like helping people and I know I'm the best.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet-”

She shrugs, feigning indifference, “Like I said, I’m the best. We can both be superheroes.”

—

What had started out as Penelope tracking and compiling everything they needed with unparalleled speed, quickly morphed into the situation Luke had predicted.

They were already exposing her to the dark and sordid imagery of Congressman Whitt’s digital footprint -not shielding her from it like Prentiss suggested was possible- And they still needed to make sure their case was solid, prove without a doubt he’d abducted, restrained, drugged, and raped those women- all on a live-streaming platform with “customers” paying for the privilege of assault by proxy… But the only way to take down someone so well connected would be to catch him in the act.

“Sorry to be the bearer of awful news to all you very beautiful, very in need of therapy people, but it looks like he’s planning on snatching someone tonight.” Penelope stood in their small conference room in front of a flatscreen tv frowning over her findings. On the screen she displayed the decoded message she found that had been sent out this morning to creeps in the know. The group of agents watched in awe at the depth and detail of what she’d been able to discover and how quickly she’d been able to do it.

“Alvez, you weren’t kidding” Tara hums.

“Ms. Garcia, you have been an invaluable help, thank you.” Prentiss says, gesturing for her to join them at the table.

Penelope responds with a quickly vanishing pleased look and passes off the remote, sitting in the chair next to Luke. He snatches her hand, catching her eyes when she meets him, “Hey,” he whispers low, “are you ok? I’m sorry you had to see that-” he’d noticed her shudder and blanch at the new countdown she’d popped up for them to see.

His thumb caresses the back of her hand, she notices he hasn’t stopped petting and stroking her, keeping in contact with her, since they entered the building. Even in the office they’d set up for her he came in, hands on the top of her chair finding their way to her neck, her shoulders- it reminds her of their wedding day- small brushes of finger tips, his gaze never leaving her. “It’s fine, we’ve all seen the ID channel,” she says, brushing it off. She could be strong, she doesn’t want them to think she can’t handle it.

Luke frowns giving her a look, Penelope smiles back, insisting, “I’m fine-”

“Alright, we knew he was going to be at tonight’s gala, and now thanks to Ms. Garcia’s skilled work, we know he’s teased another stream, which means he’s planning on finding another victim tonight, likely at or around the dinner.”

“-It would be great if we knew who the target was,” Matt says.

“Well, we do know he’s an opportunist and likes to have a few options to offer up, so he won’t have a victim picked out, which we could use to our advantage if we had someone on the inside. But on such short notice and with all the additional security being distributed around the city, we definitely won’t be approved for that, you all know the director isn’t especially supportive of this-”

Penelope watches as they continue to talk through their options, talk through a plan, ignoring what she feels is an obvious solution sitting in the room with them, until finally offering, “…I can do it-”

“Not a chance.” Luke shuts the idea down so fast she can only assume it had been on his mind as well, maybe even quietly hoping it wouldn’t get brought up.

Prentiss, hesitant about using a civilian with no prior experience on such a dire case, looks between the two of them, “Iiiii don’t know…”

“I’m his type, right? Blonde, bubbly, and I have been told- entirely sexy-”

“Penelope-” He was definitely hoping no one would bring up the similarities between Penelope and the victims, suggest…

What he got instead was his wife using his -private- admissions as ammo against him in some bullheaded effort to prove… he didn’t even know what she could be trying to prove.

“Luke! It’s not up to you, it’s up to her,” Penelope says, nodding to Prentiss standing hunched over the table, “and you need someone-”

“But not you” he grits through clenched teeth, a hand moving to her knee as he turns to her, the other still covering her hand on the table. He could give two fucks about anyone else in the room right now, it was only her he was having this conversation with.

“Why not? You trust them, don’t you? I trust you. Plus, I do theater, so I can keep up a front-” this she says to the team at large.

Penelope doesn’t say the other part that she’s thinking, that she’s already had experience being a victim of attempted murder once, so a second time with supervision shouldn’t be that bad.

The…experience was something she still hadn’t told him about.

She had thought about telling him a few nights ago, telling him she understood why his job was so important, and not just because she had JJ and Derek in her life, but because of what she’d gone through…what she wouldn’t have survived without them. She knows if she had told him then, there’s absolutely no way he’d allow her to do this, he’d make sure, so secretly she’s thankful it hasn’t felt like the right time.

The team watches the exchange play out, Luke dead set against her involvement, Penelope insistent she’s capable.

Despite Luke’s protest, Emily can’t help but weigh the offer; she was right here willing to do it, knew about the unsub, had helped them endlessly…but she was also a civilian they’d just met who had a history of circumventing the law in accordance with her own morals, she had no formal training, they didn’t know how well she’d be able to play this off…and Alvez would clearly be compromised during the operation.

But if it worked, they could catch Whitt tonight.

Mind not yet made up, she breaks in, “Even if I said yes, we still couldn’t get approval… or tickets-”

Penelope looks away from Luke, grinning up at his boss, “Of all the tricks I’ve pulled today, those are going to be the easiest…and the most fun”

He can tell Penelope has no intention of listening to him, her mind already made up. Relenting, he changes tactics, “I’m not letting you go alone. If you go, I go.” Luke turns his attention to Prentiss, finishing, “-every step of the way.”

If she insisted on doing this, if Prentiss approved, there was no way he was letting her out of his sight. Just the idea of her talking with the congressman, being in the same room with him, on that cam footage for all those creeps to see, made Luke broil. She was serving herself up on a platter after seeing what he’d done to women who looked like herself. He would be sure it didn’t go that far.

Penelope strokes his cheek like she had this morning, gazing at him, “You’re the only one I know, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

There’s little time, but Penelope manages to secure a group of suites in the city near the gala, forge tickets, and change the guest list to include two agents and herself, all while being coached by Luke’s boss and his teammate Tara on what to do and how to respond. The day goes by quickly leaving no time to process, dwell, and allow nerves to build.

Stings, she gets the impression, don’t normally come together so fast or out of the blue. On tv she knows it’s either months of planning every detail, or quickly throwing someone in in the moment. Maybe that last type isn’t quite true for them.

She also gets the feeling that his boss, Prentiss, is worried about the subject of their sting. He’s a big deal in DC, a man with deep pockets and friends in high places, someone who doesn’t need to be paid to do these horrible things, a defense they’d no doubt rely on. She already wanted to show Luke she could handle what his world was, that she could take on some of his burden and he could open up to her, but watching those videos, reading what those men wrote, hearing those girls…she wanted to help them, and if that meant dressing up, she was more than willing to do it.

The dress they gave her to “up” however was….hideous.

It would need much much “upping” if she were to be irresistible enough to inspire a chatroom full of subhuman cowards to….want her. Unfortunately, the bureau wouldn’t let her wear her own clothing (maybe for her that was a good thing?), something about rules, and there was no time to go shopping with all the sleuthing and forging and convincing and prepping and practicing. So instead she’s left with this.

Penelope examines the shapeless reflection in the mirror impressed there is a garment capable of so wholly camouflaging her more prominent features. She considers one last appeal to the bureau to let her wear something from her own wardrobe…something more flattering.

She’d insisted that her closet was chock full of goodies for every occasion, but she would have to agree, her closet certainly didn’t (and never would) have a dress like this.

Black-tie indeed. The floor length, black dress had all the appeal of a graduation robe. She’s matronly and generic and if she were going to be the prime choice tonight, this dress would not do.

Twisting left and right, pinching at fabric and checking seams, she quirks her mouth thoughtfully, glad she’s up to the task of dressing it up. All those years transforming her own things finally had a use beyond personal esthetic.

Hacking off the high round collar, she winces and hopes this doesn’t constitute destroying federal property as she morphs the neckline into a perfectly cleavage framing low V (modeled after one of her tried and true f-me dresses). She lifts and brings in the waist, fitting the skirt through her middle in gathers, softly draping at the narrowest part of her, and finally she takes the elbow-length bell sleeves and carefully pleats and folds them like origami rings at the high point of her shoulder, leaving her arms bare. She’s wearing her best push-up bra to help push all that cleavage right to eye level, and she thinks about stockings, but ultimately decides against them, the dress covered her legs anyway…though she was very tempted to add a thigh high slit.

Looking at the transformation, she should be uncomfortable. This moody, vampy thing reminds her of her past, of someone she no longer is…someone naive and angry and desperate to fit in…someone trying to find their place. Their peace. She should be uncomfortable in that Penelope’s skin, but she isn’t, and maybe it’s because that person was the right one to be tonight…Maybe that’s how she can get through this undetected. The changes she’s made to the matte black silk, she’s sure are more than enough to make her stand out in a sea of predictable sparkling navy and red DC housewives, but if they aren’t she’s sure she will be.

Penelope curls her hair and removes the large white cube necklace she’d been wearing earlier, exchanges the alien earrings and mahjong tile bracelet for a cleavage dusting lariat and a malachite point tipped gold horseshoe bangle, and lastly, takes the 8-ball ring off her pinky leaving only her wedding ring.

Twisting the emerald, flicking the band left and right, she knows she can’t leave it there if she plans on being desirable bait (a missing married woman would be too quickly noticed), but she’s struggling with the thought of taking it off.

Like ripping off a bandaid, she quickly plucks it from her finger placing it on the dresser, but just as quickly she snatches it back up. Penelope frowns thinking about how stupid it is to feel so attached to a piece of jewelry, feel so wrong. Old Penelope, The Black Queen, certainly wouldn’t have, and after all, she doubts he wears his all the time, he’s only known her, been married, for almost six weeks.

But not wearing it feels…like betrayal…like a slap.

Instead she places it on her right hand. At least this way it’s still with her. If he notices when he comes to get her, she’ll just explain, though if she’s being honest, she’s hoping for some visual confirmation that her handiwork has made her as distraction-worthy as she feels.

Thinking back to every one of his slow outfit appraisals, the quickly averted, heated looks that set her skin on fire, she’s looking forward to tonight’s reaction the most. How he would feel about this side of her, this part that was so much of her for so long. Would he be put off? Would he laugh when he saw her, be mad she altered the dress? That she was revealing so much of herself…for them. Would he be so overcome with passion and possessiveness that he’d take her in his arms, unable to control himself any longer and pin her to the door, crush his lips, his body, to hers? Immobilizing, determined to show her she was his, his bulletproof vest firm against her under his tux, his thigh pressing her legs to spread…kissing her furiously, roughly kissing down her throat, toothy hands hiking up her skirt…up her thigh….

Focused on the fantasy playing out in her head, Penelope shrieks in surprise at the ring of the door bell and quickly applies the finishing touches of makeup- some pink blush and candy red sheer lipstick before hurriedly snatching her clutch and scurrying to her waiting husband.

But opening the door she’s only met with disappointment. Behind the door there is no ego boosting, jealously wandering eyes from the mouth watering husband she’d so well imagined, in fact, there’s no mouth-watering husband at all.

What she finds on the other side of her door is instead a different unfairly beautiful person.

Tara, now dressed to the nines, is waiting to escort her to the SUV that will drive them into DC. She can’t help but notice how, unlike what Penelope was first given, Tara’s dress doesn’t make her look like an 80s schoolmarm.

Tara, narrowing her eyes, inspects Penelope, “That’s the bureau’s dress?”

Smoothing her hands down the sides of her skirt, Penelope responds as evenly as possible, “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie, she wasn’t lying to a federal agent. This was the dress, she just improved it is all. Improved their chances of her being picked. And anyway, they gave her that one.

“Right.” Tara smirks, “We should get going. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Penelope closes and locks the door behind her, she’ll just have to settle for hot husband glances on the way there.

In the vehicle however, there is no Luke either.

He had said every step of the way, didn’t that include picking her up and going to the city?

She doesn’t admit that she’d fantasized anticipated him drinking her in, his expression turning parched, eyes wide and tracking like she’d caught him doing so many times before…but finding only Matt, Penelope, can’t stop herself from asking, “Not that the two of you aren’t gorgeous and delightful and I’m sure very great company, but…where’s my- Where’s Luke?”

She doesn’t want them to think she’s not brave enough for this, she is, or that she’s clingy and needs him around- she’s not some sad husband reliant trad-wife. She’s independent, she has her own life, she had a very full life before he was matched with her and she’d have one after- She didn’t need him to protect her, she had volunteered, insisted because she knew she could do this- She would be fine…she just…wanted to know.

Matt looks back at her in the rearview, smiling, “You don’t look too bad there yourself, Garcia, sorry Luke couldn’t be the one to see it-“ Tara jumps in explaining the last minute change of plans. Matt, looking more the part of a gala attendee, swapped roles with Luke, Luke and Prentiss went on ahead to set everything up at the hotel and gala.

It’s then that the scope and specifics of the situation really click. Her life is in the hands of strangers, their success is in hers, things can change at a moment's notice and her being the odd-man out, not an FBI agent, they are under no obligation to consult or inform her. Luke was possibly even instructed not to inform her. She isn’t familiar with how they operate, how they handle things on the fly, and the person she’s the most familiar with, she’s only known for a few weeks at best. Penelope flexes and stretches her fingers, willing the needles forming to vaporize. She’s capable of handling herself, she’s been in worse situations alone before and come out fine, she could do this, just like she’d told them.

“It was a pretty big blow-up actually,” Tara goes on, “He was insistent on being here with you.” She doesn’t want Alvez’s new wife thinking this was on him, that he’d lied, “…It’s just…not always up to us. Prentiss felt he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself in check, and he kind of proved her right with how he reacted… But looking at you, I don’t know that making him play catering staff will make a difference.”

The rest of the way to DC is filled with review, last minute prepping, and cues, Penelope watching the landscape and sky change from the passenger window as Tara continues to test and prime her.

At the hotel, Tara shows her an ear piece and small camera she’ll be outfitted with, Penelope distracts herself by setting up a laptop with a fake account, joining the congressman’s watch party, and adding a backdoor server to record everything undetected. There’s still no Luke and no Prentiss, they’re at the event space double checking physical layouts to Penelope’s found blueprints and giving as few people in charge a heads up as possible, but there is that Anderson guy. She shows him how the chats and servers work and what to do if certain tech-related scenarios come up, and writes it all down for him just in case on some turquoise sticky notes floating in her bag.

“What happened to the Bureau’s dress, Ms. Garcia?” She hears it in her ear. This is the sound check Tara told her about, Prentiss must have seen what she did to the dress when Tara was showing her the camera pin. Thankfully, she hears what she thinks is a hint of amusement in the question and decides to use that opening.

“Funny thing, I put it in the wash, and wouldn’t you know, it shrunk!” Tara, Matt, and Anderson snicker from around the room.

“Let’s be sure it doesn’t happen again, we want you to be picked, not picked apart”

“Ma’am.”

“-Don’t- call me ma’am.”

Two agents and one former hacker pack up and head out to an extravagant evening none of them are bound to enjoy. The nerves start to creep in.

From one of the rooms Penelope secured, Prentiss runs laptop surveillance along with Anderson, keeping track of the feed that’s streaming through a lens in Whitt’s boutonniere. “So far he’s signaled between the caterer near the north end of the patio, the musician who just excused herself to the lady’s, and Ms. Garcia” she gives a rundown of the targeted options to the four at the Gala through their earpieces.

A muscle turning feeling crawls beneath Penelope’s skin at the information that she’s made his notice, a shudder jerking her from the shoulders down hearing the confirmation. Three hours into the night, three hours. Was that all it took? Even the knowledge that Tara and Matt were triangulating the room with her, keeping an eye on Whitt and the possible would-be victims, that Luke was here too, ready should anything happen, didn’t feel like enough.

“He can’t do anything, I'm right here,” comes in cooly, seemingly right next to her. His voice like a string lacing and constricting her chest.

Luke’s been tracking her since their arrival, though the woman he sees walk in looks more like the devil on a shoulder version of his wife than the living jawbreaker- tough ball of rainbows- he’s used to seeing. He’s not complaining though, the inky black dress contrasts her pale skin and makes her blonde hair glow gold, and the shape, the cut, how she fills it out- she looks devious and sultry and perfectly wicked in just the right way. But he wonders how much of this is some shield or wall, something to just get through tonight, and if it is, is he wrong being this enamored with a side that isn’t a side at all?

“Penelope, remember, we want them to pick you, you need to make yourself more present” this time it’s Prentiss breaking through the space in her ear.

She doesn’t speak but she slowly nods her head. Duh, that’s why I chopped up the dress...

She knows from the recordings it’s not that easy, if she approaches him, they won’t like it, won’t like her. She needs to be aloof, but confident, a little brash, and flirty. She needs to make them want her, want to punish her, to have a powerful man put her in her place. Closing her eyes, she channels her other persona, the one who’s smart and sassy- a bolder, more forward version of herself. The person she used to be…but that’s not who she is any more and she’s not sure she can muster it fully… remember her intricacies. What if they see through her? Worse yet, what if one of them knows her? Would they recognize her after all these years? Was she dooming the sting before ever entering his orbit? This was so stupid, she should have thought this through, created a better disguise. What if they were using her?

Entirely worked up and filling with self-doubt, Penelope drifts across the room, mentally repeating that she’s safe, that no one recognizes her, and even if they did, she’s in a well-lit place in a crowded room and there are agents and security all around, Luke, though she’s only heard him...

Looking around, she spots a group of younger, strong jawed men adjacent to the congressman. They look the type to have been on Crew at Yale or Harvard, the type to drink too much, and get too handsy- politicians sons, the perfect group to be noticed with.

She drains her champagne, joining them, flirting. It’s a tactic that works like a charm, no sooner had she joined the group of men, laughing and touching, squeezing biceps and brushing lapels aside, did Whitt approach.

“Champagne?”

The voice isn’t the congressman’s though, it’s the one in her ear, but it isn’t from the piece, this time it’s behind her. Penelope turns, feeling the wash of relief at his warm eyes finally where she can see them.

Luke had positioned himself between Penelope and the congressman, creating a physical barrier. If any man was approaching his wife tonight, he would be the first.

Irritated at being cut off from his target, Congressman Whitt picks up two flutes from the proffered tray and with a slick sleight of hand drops sedatives into one. Sidestepping, he reaches past Luke, ignoring his presence, and offers it to Penelope.

She grins wide, placing her empty glass on the tray, one hand sliding out to slip around the slim crystal stem, the other sliding down Luke’s hip, not so discreetly squeezing his ass. Luke’s eyebrows jump in surprise, but quick reactions allows him to catch himself before his arm and tray swoop.

Her eyes never leave the congressman as she delivers a coy smile, “What a gentleman, I do like to keep my hands full,” Penelope purrs, taking the spiked champaign.

“Nice job, Garcia- they really did not like that, the comment section is lighting up,”

Luke’s free hand slips down covering her own, giving it a brief, reassuring squeeze back before removing it.

She hears the buzz and watches Whitt check his phone, his eyes careful not to fall on her as he reads, careful to keep his expression neutral.

“You’re on, Penelope.”

From that point on it’s a waiting game filled with tension, everything seemingly pulling back before the slingshot forward.

After some small talk, Whitt politely excuses himself. The less time he’s around her, the less outward interest he takes in her, the less likely he is to be suspected when her dead body’s found in the park tomorrow morning.

With the congressman now making himself noticed schmoozing across the room, Tara reminds Penelope to keep her head in the game, timing is crucial. He’ll wait for the drugs to kick in, wait until his victim is weak, wait for them to seclude themselves, wait for everyone else to become suitably drunk and high and otherwise distracted, then when they’re too incapacitated to put up a fight, he’ll strike. If she succumbs too soon he could get suspicious, if she takes too long, he could change his mind. Waiting for the timed signal, Penelope continues to make sure she’s seen flirting and flitting with every man in the room, at one point even feeling up the delectable Matt Simmons, coining him ‘Biceps’ as she batted her eyes and teased him, much to Luke’s displeasure.

Pantomiming working the room, Whitt watches from a distance incrementally simmering with rage until Penelope, given the direction, feigns going under. Swooning and swaying, fanning herself, she stumbles to the patio, alone.

She holds onto the gritty cement balustrade, eyes closed, cold of the night hitting her, sucking down air, stomach knotting with the knowledge that this was the plan, but the plan put her in direct physical contact with a tortuous murderer. Her body swoops, -the act just a little too good- knees going weak from the anticipated attack. Before she can regain any kind of composure she feels a thick clammy hand on her back and hears his drawling voice, “Hey there Cinderella, had a little too much to drink?”

She swallows, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to think about where he plans on this going, but thinking about the women before her she forces her eyes open, forces the lazy slipping grin of an easier, unperturbed seductress unaware of the horrors that await her. She shrugs, slowly batting her lashes and sways again.

Luke keeps eyes on her from the far side of the ballroom, Tara and Matt from a point in the garden, the act is good, too good. The trio start to worry, had she slipped up and accidentally ingested the spiked champagne?

How much control did she really have? Was she this good of an actress? He shouldn’t have ever allowed Prentiss to approve her, he shouldn’t have told Penelope at all.

Whitt’s hand moves holding her more firmly as he braces around her side, “Why don’t you come with me, I can help-” Penelope tries to get it out, but the words won’t come, fear stuck in her throat, she resists, but he’s quick. All of a sudden she feels the tip of a knife pointing into her other side, “You can fill your hands with something real-” is hissed into her ear. She tries to push away, but freeze takes over, hyperventilating, panic. She’s alone and she can’t move, she whimpers at the sharp pull, Whitt grabbing her by the hair, the hand with the knife wrapping around her. She feels the zhhht- zhhht- zhhht of the blade zig-zaging up her dress, feels the sharp tip find and press to flesh, “I said let’s go you fucking whore-” He pulls her against himself, her back to his chest, she struggles against his grip. He’s taking her and they’re not here, no one is doing anything to stop him, there’s no Prentiss in her ear, no Luke-

The moment he sees Whitt touch her his hand flinches, reaching for his gun.

“Alvez, stand down, we don’t have anything yet-” she’s disconnected Penelope’s radio, not willing to risk Whitt overhearing them through it.

“Prentiss he has her-”

“I said, wait!”

His stomach churns watching the blade slide up her chest, Penelope’s head jerking back and her mouth dropping in a cry.

Every muscle in his body compresses, tenses, braces, “Prentiss, god damn it, he’s taking her!”

There’s urgency in his voice, a thread of distress, Whitt’s actions are alarmingly bold given the setting, but obediently Luke holds back- for a breath-

Whitt’s arm tightening around her.

Then two-

Penelope’s heels dragging back on the flagstone.

Waits until it feels too long

waits until-

“-Fuck this-” shatters. In one fell swoop the silver tray is replaced with a handgun, Luke rushing in a crouch to the patio doors, peaking around the curtain, lining up his shot, “Cover me-”

He steps out into the dark terrace, gun trained, stance even, level, voice ringing out against the din of the party, “Congressman Whitt, FBI, let her go-,” a clear command.

There’s a glimpse of Luke before her head is snapped back, vision pulling to the dark sky above, her body propelling forward. The sharp sound of a knife clattering to stone is like a gunshot, the second she hears it Penelope’s stumble turns into a run and in no time flat she’s colliding heavily into Luke’s chest, his open arm, their bodies rocking with the force, the commotion behind her unintelligible, the others apprehending and arresting Whitt.

Matt steps in front of the congressman, kicking the knife away and reading his rights as Tara roughly takes him by the arms, clicking the cuffs into place. "This is all a misunderstanding, I don’t know what you think you saw- This poor young lady is clearly unstable- She was trying to kill herself! I was trying to stop her! Maybe she was drugged! Put up to it- She was with some young men earlier, I bet they slipped her something-" He bellows and blusters the revisionist story ignorant to the fact that he’d been set up, that they have the whole thing on tape- his own feed.

Tara and an officer escort the protesting congressman to a waiting patrol car. The whole time Luke keeps one arm secure around Penelope’s back holding her to him and the other with his gun trained on the congressman being led away, ready should he make a single move.

“Prentiss, Anderson, you get everything?” Luke feels her arms constrict around his waist when he asks.

“We’ve got it. Unless Ms. Garcia thinks anything needs to be done with this tonight, she can get some rest- Alvez, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Fine.” He hears the finality, the awaiting reprimand in her voice, he can’t bring himself to care.

Holstering his gun, he pulls out the ear piece, bringing both arms to circle Penelope tightly. His chin hooks over her shoulder as his hands run up and down her back, “Penelope” it's a prayer on her neck, tangling in her hair.

#criminal minds #garvez #fan fiction #i do do you #case fic this chapter #tw: assault #tw: ptsd ignored #penelope garcia #luke alvez #emily prentiss #tara lewis #matt simmons #angst #some fluff #snails tales #ao3

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capcavan · 1 year ago

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Cannibalism - AFTG YC AU

based on cake verse my beloved TW cannibalism / pica / consensual and dubiously consensual cannibalism / government sanctioned cannibalism / diseases

"science background"

certain people have genetic defect which over course of their lives alters their neurological system to a point they stop being able to feel taste or scent of natural food sources

the condition is incurable and negatively impacts mental health

can cause malnutrition loss of interest in food

always leads to cannibalism

*people in late stages of the disease develop preference for human flesh as it's the only natural food source that still has taste and smell, certain people seem to have much more attractive smell and taste

"People are not made equal some are more tasty than others"

In borderline cases meeting of two perfectly compatible persons (A yen and A cupid ) can lead to cupid ignoring voice of reason and immediately aim to devour yen

YEN: A strong desire or inclination; a yearning or craving. The monetary unit of Japan

CUPIDity: Excessive desire, especially for wealth; covetousness or avarice. An eager desire to possess something; inordinate desire; immoderate craving, especially for wealth or power; greed. Discovered and first publicly documented in Japan while cases of the phenomenon were written off as mental instability everywhere else]

Riko is a cupid he knew it ever since the day he got to taste kevin day's blood, even worse kevin day is Riko’s yen and every night they were left alone together they both feared Rikos self control will run out

Riko picks people for perfect court based on their compatibility [all of them are likely his yen's]

Legally after age of 18 all cupids are forced to wear plastic muzzle covering their mouth

Andrew is also cupid but he masks well and nobody knows, he also brings fake blood samples to doctor appointments to make sure he is not discovered, and is absolutely not prepared when Neil turns out to be his yen- bad things happen

Aaron is not a cupid, after Andrew is discovered they often swap places (Andrew goes out in public without muzzle and dressed like Aaron carrying Aarons id bc no way he will walk around muzzled even if it puts others at risk)

Riko bit off Jean’s lips while kissing one day after that he refuses to approach anyone without the muzzle on

Cupids do not possess sharper teeth or super strength, their digestive tracts are no different than normal people, often times individuals end up misdiagnosed with pica(cases of eating other persons hair , napkins etc.) Cupids show preference for red meat in diet through their lifetime usually raw, which can lead to health complication but also is theorized its body's way of preparation to consume human flesh in future Cupids tend to form strong emotional connections with yens (one sided) The society doesn't condone cannibalism, the flesh eating is dangerous both for Cupids and any humans who might even willingly partake in their feeding, consensual cannibalism is also illegal (when organized by individuals directly) Cupids are allowed to eat designated and prepared remains and useless body parts after medical procedures after the flesh is checked and deemed safe for consumption. The system is made for safety of everyone as Cupids lack ability to take their own safety in consideration as well (prion diseases, and all other sickness that can be transferred from body to body by tissue consumption as well as general inability of human digestive tract to deal with most of tissues) Cupids often suffer from digestive tract blockages after ingestion of inedible items, the health of their digestive tract is in below average conditions based on their dietary preferences. The black market is blooming and Moriyamas are at the head of it. Humans can not save animals but when cell multiplying technology was discovered they decided to save themselves and start trying to clone human flesh for Cupids consumption, its impossibly expensive for a normal person but a rich person can enjoy safe and flavourful meals that are strengthened with all vitamins and minerals necessary.

#riko moriyama #andrew minyard #arron minyard #kevin day #aftg #canibalism #AFTG YC AU

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luv-assangiebatch · 1 year ago

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Mendax Undercover - Chapter 7: P4

Over the next several weeks, Julian and Kat continued to meet at least twice a week to work on their research. Kat would prepare datasets and then Julian would test them through his pipeline programs, tuning parameters often for optimal results. Kat also continued to scour through published literature in case any new variants of interest popped up. Preparing the datasets could be tricky sometimes, and also required some advanced coding skills, for which she required Julian’s expertise and guidance. They often found themselves working late hours in Julian’s office as they simply lost track of time while engrossed in their work. Sometimes they would decide to have dinner delivered to the office or Kat would step out to pick something up for them.

While they both were very professional and focused on the project, they were also spending a lot of time together and getting to know each other rather well. They shared jokes, anecdotes, and funny stories from their pasts. Kat shared stories from her life in the United States, and Julian then would share stories about his childhood in Australia. Australia seemed like a different world to Kat and she could not fathom ever making it there, it seemed like it was on the other side of the moon. However, Julian made it seems less foreign to her, and she told him how she often joked and called Arizona the “Australia” of the United States due to the warm climate and strange, ominous creatures that could be found there. Julian told her a little about his early hacking days in his teens and twenties, but he was careful to not mention his website or citizen journalism activities via “the fifth estate.” He was beginning to grow quite fond of Kat and was pretty sure she was a trustworthy individual, but he still felt the need to be cautious. On the other hand, Kat’s crush-feelings for Julian just continued to grow the more she got to know him. She was fascinated by his mind and how talented he was with computer programming. She could see why he was hired as a VP in bioinformatics. While he was very confident and even arrogant at times, he never made her feel inferior. He seemed to value her contributions to the project and treated her as an equal colleague rather than as if he were her boss or mentor. They both began to truly enjoy each other’s company, and they looked forward to their working meetings together, despite knowing they would often run late into the night.

One day, on a day when Kat and Julian usually met after work, Kat noticed Julian was not in the office. She was a little concerned and a bit disappointed to think that they would not meet that day, since she always looked forward to her time with him. She did notice however, that he was online via the instant messenger intranet program, and she saw some emails from him come through of which her variant scientists group was copied. She figured he was simply working from home that day, and that he probably had his reasons for doing so. She pondered sending him an instant message just to check in and make sure he was alright, that he hadn’t fallen ill or anything, but she did not want to overstep her bounds.

A couple hours later, as the usual time for their regular meeting approached, a strange chat window popped up on Kat’s computer. It was not through the company’s regular intranet instant messaging program. It looked more like a command prompt, with the white letters on a separate window with a black background. It simply read “Kitty-Kat.”

Kat felt a wave of heat flash through her face once this message popped up. It was so strange—if it were Julian, why didn’t he just message through the IM program? Then again, how could it be anyone other than Julian, who was the only one to call her Kitty-Kat. She glanced around her desk, making sure no one else was nearby, then she bit her lip as she started to type a response in the mysterious chat window.

- Julian, is that you?

- I’d still like to meet today, if you are up for meeting offsite.

This has to be Julian, she thought to herself. Who else could it possibly be? Kat was extremely intrigued—Julian continued to keep up the mystique.

- Yes, I can meet offsite.

- Excellent. I will send a driver to pick you up at 4pm. He will be parked in a black car across the street from the back lobby.

This was the same spot where she often saw Julian enter a black car after leaving the office after their late meetings.

- Great, I will be there!

- See you soon.

Then the little black chat window disappeared. Kat felt her heart starting to race in her chest. This was all so strange and mysterious. Why the secret chat window, why was a black car picking her up, and most importantly—where was she going? She had so many questions, and while this was all so baffling and a little nerve-racking, it was also exciting. Julian sure knew how to keep things interesting. She looked at the clock and saw it was 330p, and at that point she didn’t even care if she had emails to answer or other work to tend to—whatever it was it could wait until tomorrow. All she could think about was making it out to that street in time to see where this car was going to take her. She quickly gathered up her things and rushed toward the elevators.

Once she made it to the lobby, she continued to scurry across the floor and caught Astrid’s attention at the front desk as she breezed right by her without a greeting.

“Hé! Kat! Hello to you, too!” she quipped after her.

Kat stopped in her tracks and retreated back toward the receptionist.

“Oh goodness, I am so sorry, Astrid!” she gasped, catching her breath. “I am in a bit of a hurry…”

“Clearly! Who’s on fire?”

“Well…Mr. VP is not here today, but I got a strange message from him and he is having a car pick me up at 4:00!”

“Pick you up? And where is it going, this car?” Astrid inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Kat placed both of her hands on the large marble desk and leaned in dramatically.

“I have NO IDEA!” she gasped with a mixture of fluster and excitement.

“Oooooh, quel mystère!” Astrid bubbled with curiosity and enthusiasm for her friend. “Well would you like a little snack for the road? I’ve got some of those little cakes you like…or perhaps some crisps?”

Kat laughed, she loved how generous Astrid was with her snacks. It was sweet how she wanted to take care of everyone, especially her good friends.

“Not right now, my stomach is kind of in knots, but thank you!” Kat then looked up at the clock, then back at Astrid. “Oh, I just realized I am supposed to meet the car outside the back lobby— outside the restricted elevator! But how are you doing?”

“Agh, I’m fucking tired, you know it! Now vas-y, vas-y or you will be late! But we all will want details later, you know. Now go!” Astrid exclaimed as she shooed Kat off toward the back lobby.

Kat chuckled breathlessly as she waved to her friend and ran toward the back lobby. Just as she made it outside, she saw the black car pull up across the street. She felt her stomach drop once she saw the car and trotted over to it, trying to look a little more graceful even though she could not see the driver inside. His side of the car was facing the other side of the street. After she approached the back door on the passenger side, she opened it and peered inside inquisitively.

“Hello, um—were you sent by—”

The driver rolled down the divider between the front and back seats and looked at her with dark eyes that matched his dark, short hair.

“Dr. Assange—yes. Are you…” the man hesitated for a second, as if what he was about to say next was a bit absurd. “Kitty-Kat?”

Kat let out a breath and blushed lightly, feeling a little embarrassed herself. “Yes…Kat,” she started to clarify, but then rambled nervously as she climbed into the car. “…Kitty…Kitty-Kat….yes…” She shut the door and once she got settled she looked in his direction again, her head titled inquisitively.

“Can you tell me where we are going?”

“You will see soon enough. Once you get there, you will walk through the lobby to the elevators, and take it up to P4.”

Kat nodded, still so baffled by this mystery. “P4…” she repeated.

“Enjoy the ride, Miss…” And with that, the driver engaged the divider and began to drive away from the biotech building.

Kat took a moment to catch her breath and look out the window, as if looking at the passing scenery would give her clues on where she was headed. She then took a few minutes to make sure her hair was set right and refresh her light red lipstick. Then she took out her phone and began to text her friends in the group chat.

Kat: You guys, I am in this car that Mr. VP sent for me and I have NO IDEA where it’s going!

Aside from Astrid, the others were astounded by this curious scenario.

Jun: He wasn’t onsite today…

Bethany: Ooooh how exciting!

Astrid: You must tell us EVERYTHING!

Marilu: Maybe you’re going to his residence?

Quite honestly, going to where Julian lived would have been the most logical, educated guess. However, Kat did not want to assume, or presume, anything. Even if it were his home, she still had no idea where that was. It could be an hour away for all she knew.

Kat: The driver did tell me once I get there, to take the elevator up to P4.

Astrid: P4???

Marilu: P may stand for penthouse…

Bethany: Ohhh penthouse, of course! Mr. VP would be in a penthouse!

Jun: What a fun adventure!

The friends continued to text for a while until the car finally stopped and the driver rolled down the divider again.

“Have a good day, Miss…Remember, P4.”

“Oh! Okay—P4…” she repeated under her breath, then she looked at the driver as she opened the door. “Thank you very much, this is a lovely car.”

The driver smiled lightly. “Thank you.” He rolled up the divider again and Kat shut the door. As the car drove off, she turned around and faced the rather tall building in front of her. It wasn’t as tall as Santé Genomics, but it looked to have about 16 floors or so. She walked up a modest staircase to the front double doors and walked inside. It was an older building but it looked to have been remodeled. The wooden floor was polished and shiny, and had ornate, multicolored area rugs decorating the main walkways. To her left, there was a front desk, and as she continued to step forward past the desk she finally saw the brassy, reflective elevators. She pushed the “up” button and once inside the elevator, she saw the button for P4. It seemed Marilu was correct in guessing the P stood for penthouse. She tried to calm her nerves as she rode the elevator up to P4, and she was relieved to not have anyone else stepping on and off—she must have caught it at a perfect time.

The elevator finally made it to P4 and once the door opened, Kat walked out into a very quiet hallway. The hallway also had a wooden floor with a long runner that was decorated similarly to the one in the lobby. The walls were painted a very neutral grey color. She finally reached a door at the end of the hallway that had a P4 on it. Kat took a few breaths and took a moment to dry her sweaty palms on the sides of her slacks before she finally went to knock on the door.

However, before her hand could hit the door, it opened suddenly and quickly revealed Julian standing on the other side of it. He looked to inhale for a second, with his mouth slightly opened and his eyebrows raised, but then he quickly relaxed and smiled in a way that was both playful and seductive. His platinum blonde mane was a bit tousled, with rebel strands hanging near his right eye as usual while most of them on his left side were tucked behind his ear aside from a few light ones that seemed to escape and do their own thing. He was wearing a white collared shirt with a couple of the top buttons undone in a relaxed look and the shirt was loosely tucked into dark green-to-grey slacks made of a soft, comfortable fabric. He looked quite casual and comfortable indeed, but still breathtakingly handsome. In fact, Kat worried that he heard a squeak escape her mouth as she lightly gasped at his sight.

“Kitty-Kat— hello! I’m glad you could make it,” he smiled genuinely.

“Hi, Julian…!” Kat returned, still in a bit of a daze.

“Please, come in…!” Julian motioned a bit awkwardly with his arms. Sometimes the way he moved them made them look like they were asleep. He then shut the door once Kat stepped inside.

Kat continued through the entryway and walked toward the large living area, which was backdropped with large windows from floor to ceiling and no curtains. Due to the time of day, the sun was starting to set but plenty of light still filled the room. She noticed that despite the large dining table a few feet away, Julian seemed to be set up working at his couch and coffee table. He had a couple of laptops open on the table and various papers strewn about the table and floor nearby.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He called from the kitchen area, that was somewhat blocked off from the right side of the living area.

“Oh um sure…I’ll just take some water, thanks!” she called to him.

Julian returned with a bottle of water for Kat and he was holding a brown bottle of some other beverage in his other hand. Kat sat down on the far end of the couch, closer to the kitchen and windows. As she opened her bottle of water and took a drink, she watched Julian start to head back to his side of the couch. He brought the brown bottle to his mouth and quickly popped the cap off with his teeth before sitting down and releasing the bottle cap into his hand, which he then tossed onto the coffee table. He took a swig from the bottle then set it down on the table. Kat watched in awe, unaware she was actually gawking a little bit. He was so peculiar sometimes, but it just added to his mystique. He was never short on presenting these unique quirks at random, and for Kat, it just made him that much more appealing. He wasn’t just any ordinary man, and Kat loved that about him.

Julian glanced to his left, his eyes peering out at Kat from behind his white-blonde strands while he was hunched forward toward his laptop on the coffee table.

“What?” he seemed to take note of her frozen state.

Kat didn’t even realize she was staring until he called her on it. She lightly shook her head and managed to say something credible.

“What is that?” She motioned toward his drink on the table.

Julian looked back at the bottle and picked it up. He took another drink and licked his lips before looking back at Kat.

“This is Club-Mate—it’s a low-sugar energy drink. Would you like to try it?” He leaned toward her, extending his arm to offer her the bottle.

“Ohhh!” She smiled. “Okay sure!” She reached for the bottle. “Energy drinks though, usually not good for my nerves…” She then took a sip.

Julian nodded with a grin. “Ah right, the anxiety and decaf…” he remembered. His grin grew, amused at Kat’s adverse reaction to the Club-Mate.

“Yeah…it takes a little getting used to…an acquired taste…” he chuckled softly as Kat offered him the bottle back while squinting her eyes a bit.

She giggled. “I suppose so…”

Julian looked toward the bottle as he held it in front of himself. “Yeah, this helped keep me awake and focused for hours as I worked on various projects…”

“Like during your PhD studies…?”

He smiled softly then looked in her direction again, his zircon eyes tender and almost shy.

“Something like that…”

Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Julian finally looked back toward his laptop. “Alright, so—where are we at today?”

“Well, I was having some trouble tweaking the datasets to include some other biomarkers such as FGFR3 and NECTIN-4… and I think we also were still working on fine tuning the parameters for optimal accuracy and precision for the pipeline…” Kat recounted while she worked to unpack her laptop and set it up on the table next to Julian.

“Yes…it’s proving to be quite the challenge. Fortunately, I have plenty of stamina for such an endeavor,” he flashed a smug smirk as he looked at her again.

Kat did everything in her power to hold back her blushing. Was he purposely being flirtatious there? The answer was yes, yes he was. She took another drink from her water bottle, relieved that the cool temperature helped to dampen her lustful feelings for the moment.

“One thing about programming, is search engines are paramount. All programmers search for code. Sometimes that is a good 80% of the work—and it can often be time consuming—hence the need for things like this—” Julian lifted his bottle of Club-Mate.

Kat smiled and nodded. She and Julian then proceeded to work on optimizing the datasets and finding the best code to help them tweak their pipeline program. Time quickly flew by, as it tends to do when working on coding and programming puzzles. It can seem like the work just started, but hours pass by like minutes in a flash and this evening was no different for Kat and Julian. It soon got darker in the penthouse flat as the sun had set long ago, but neither of them seemed to notice as they had ample light beaming from the laptops in front of them. Julian, who was extremely focused and determined, spent most of the time in the same hunched over position as he searched and typed away on his laptops. He was definitely in the zone and hadn’t even gotten up to retrieve more Club-Mate servings.

As the hours continued to pass, Kat started to grow sleepy but she didn’t want to disappoint Julian, especially since he was working so hard. She didn’t want him to think she was not dedicated to the project. So she thought she could just silently sneak in a quick rest of the eyes for a few minutes and Julian wouldn’t even notice. She leaned the back of her head against the couch and closed her eyes. She felt quite comfortable and the room was dark and quiet, aside from the light tapping from Julian’s keyboard which was a relaxing sound like rain drops on a rooftop. Just another minute or two, she kept thinking to herself before her body finally succumbed to the relaxation and drifted off into a deep slumber. Her body remained upright for a good half hour or so, and Julian was so engaged in his work he did not even notice at all until her body started to shift. She slowly collapsed toward Julian, the side of her head grazing his shoulder. Once he felt the contact he looked toward her, a bit startled. He quickly leaned back into the couch and once he did, her head fell straight into his lap. Kat then let out a sleepy sigh and her hand rested on Julian’s knee, her body feeling quite content and comfortable, indeed, but still completely asleep.

Julian blushed once her head landed in his lap, near such an intimate area. He bit his lip and froze for a moment, unsure how he should proceed. Should he wake her up, or let her rest? He then smiled softly to himself as he looked down at her. He found this display of vulnerability on her part to be rather endearing, and the gentleman in him did not want to disturb her little nap. Plus, a part of him was curious to see how she would react once she woke up. The thought made his tender smile turn into a bigger amused one for a small moment, then it slowly faded as he blinked softly. He pursed his lips and looked to his left, reaching for a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He gently placed it over her body as it was cradled next to him, then slowly returned to his hunched over position at the laptop, continuing his work.

A couple more hours passed by, and Julian became so focused on his work he almost forgot Kat was still sleeping in his lap, until she finally began to stir. She took in a deep breath and sighed, grasping onto his knee as she returned to consciousness. Once she opened her eyes and saw a rather unfamiliar setting—the large windows staring back at her and the fabric of a rather unfamiliar couch. As she continued to wake up and realize where she was, and that her head was not resting on a pillow but Julian’s left thigh, her eyes widened and she quickly shot upright, pausing before turning to face Julian. Part of her was hoping he wasn’t there, or that this was a dream and she did not just embarrass herself in front of the VP of Therapeutic Bioinformatics.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead. Did you have a nice Kat-nap?” Julian quipped in a low, velvety purr that probably would have made Kat melt into a puddle of goo if she weren’t so mortified at the moment. She slowly turned toward him, still a bit hazy but enough to notice the sweet, amused smile on his face and blue zircon eyes shining in the monitor lighting.

“Oh my gosh…did I fall asleep? What time is it?” She asked, touching her forehead for a second. The blanket fell off of her arms and rested around her lap.

Julian looked at the clock on his laptop. “It is a quarter to 1…I suppose probably a good time to stop for the night.” He then looked back toward her.

Kat, a mixture between flustered and hazy, lightly shook her head. “Goodness, Julian, I can’t believe I just conked out like that…I am so embarrassed. I apologize for being so unprofessional, it won’t happen again.”

Julian blinked softly at her while his mouth fashioned a slightly crooked grin. “It’s okay, no need to apologize…we did work pretty late…”

“I suppose I should get going, huh? Let you get some sleep…”

“Hmm…” he murmured softly, as he reached for the blanket and gently pulled it up around her shoulders. “I dunno, it’s quite late actually…” His hand naturally dropped from her shoulder to the couch, right next to her lap with the back of his hand barely grazing the side of her thigh.

Their eyes met once again and Kat’s heart began to pound in her chest. This was probably the closest she had been to him. His lips were mere inches from hers, and they looked so soft and kissable.

“I think it might be safer if you stay here for the night. I have an extra room you can use…”

Kat felt a little silly, initially thinking that maybe he was inviting her to stay with him for the night, on a romantic level. Which if he did, of course she would have accepted—and if Julian were certain of this, he would have proposed it. While they both felt the chemistry, neither was sure how much of it was one-sided or mutual. They both also sensed each other’s hesitation which resulted in an atmosphere of sexual tension for the both of them.

“Thank you, Julian…that is so generous of you…but I don’t want to impose…”

Julian shook his head with a smile. “No, no…don’t be silly. It’s late, the trams aren’t running any more and my driver is in for the night. Plus look at all this space…” he gestured around his flat. “I have the room to spare.”

He then stood up from the couch and Kat looked up at him once he extended his hands out to her, offering to help her off the couch. She lightly placed her hands in his and instantly felt a small spark from the contact. Julian actually had beautiful hands—they were strong, yet soft and well-manicured. Once she stood up to meet him, her eyes found themselves in direct line with his exposed neck which teased her desires and looked particularly lovely in the moonlight of the living room.

“C’mon…let’s get you settled,” Julian said softly.

Kat fought another blush as her eyes met his once again. Her eyelashes fluttered as she smiled shyly. “Okay…thank you…”

Julian grinned lightly and they both paused, letting their eyes lock for a moment before Julian finally turned away and let go of one of her hands.

“This way, follow me…” he whispered, leading her down the hallway toward the spare rooms.

Kat bit her lip as she continued to hold onto his hand lightly while she trailed behind him. She blushed when they passed the door to his bedroom, pondering what a night with him in there would be like. Surely it would be nothing short of sinful and heavenly.

“Will this be okay for you?” he asked, stopping at a fully furnished and decorated room, complete with a double bed that had plenty of blankets and pillows to spare.

“Oh, this is lovely—better than my flat,” Kat giggled. “I might get spoiled and then you won’t be able to get rid of me!”

Julian breathed out a laugh then looked at her with bashful yet flirtatious eyes that were somewhat guarded by loose strands of his hair on both sides of his face.

“That might not be so bad…”

Kat’s heart seemed to stop and take a dip into her stomach as she looked back up at him.

Kiss me, you gorgeous, brilliant fool! You know I want you to…

Sometimes Kat wished she were more bold in these situations, maybe more brave and confident like Astrid… but she also wanted to be chased and feel desired. After a few moments of awkward silence, she finally spoke again.

“This is a lot of rooms for just one person, you really live here all by yourself?”

Julian’s air changed a bit, and he suddenly seemed more guarded. He had let go of her hand and shifted his weight a little. He took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Uhh yeah…this place actually belongs to an old friend of mine who wanted me to watch it over for him…”

The “friend” was actually a fairly wealthy donor to his journalism vision and website.

“Oh I see,” Kat nodded, actually finding comfort in that explanation. It made Julian seem more real, that he didn’t own this extravagant penthouse on his own.

“Oh, I almost forgot…hold on…” Julian then quickly whisked away to his room for a moment, then shortly returned with a t-shirt and some flannel pajama pants.

“Here… in case you want something a little more comfortable to sleep in for the night.”

Kat smiled as her body flushed with warmth. This was a really sweet gesture on his part, and somewhat intimate as he was letting her wear some of his clothes.

“That’s so thoughtful…thank you,” she returned humbly. “You’re a gracious host.”

Julian nodded with a little smile.

“Okay, I’ll let you get settled…”

“Okay…”

After Julian left the doorway, Kat unfolded the black t-shirt and on the front of it was a white decal of a large ship with several sails, and the words “The Pirate Bay” written under it in a sort of “Old English” font. Kat was intrigued and wondered what The Pirate Bay was. She made a note to look it up the next day, but for now she really needed to get some sleep. She went ahead and changed into the t-shirt but had not donned the soft pajama pants yet. She then found an outlet to plug her phone charger into, and she stood by the bed checking her phone for messages and setting her alarm. A few minutes later, Julian stopped back to ensure she was able to settle in. He stood outside the doorway and let his eyes survey her from head to toe. Her back was toward him, wearing only the t-shirt that cut off just below her bottom. He licked his lips briefly before biting his bottom lip while he took some time to admire her bare, slender legs. He finally let out a little cough to let her know he was standing behind her. She whipped her head around to face him, a little startled at first. She thought he had turned in for the evening.

“Just thought I’d check to make sure you didn’t need anything else…”

Kat smiled. “Oh thank you—I think I am okay. I am just trying to find where the switch is for this lamp…”

Julian smiled as he walked over to her.

“It is a tricky lamp…it’s up here…”

The lamp was one that was mounted to the wall, and had a switch somewhat hidden on the top ledge. It was a peculiar place for a switch rather than on the brassy mount itself or somewhere closer to the bulb.

After Julian stepped in to turn off the switch, it left him standing inches in front of Kat once again in the darkened room with only subtle moonlight peering in through the nearby window. He smiled to himself as he looked down at her, noticing that his Pirate Bay shirt served her quite well.

Kat felt her molecules buzzing inside of her again with him standing so close, also while she was only partially dressed.

“Thank you…”she finally managed to squeak out as their eyes seemed to lock almost intensely.

Julian lowered his head, and also seemed to lean in a little closer. His hand was still on the wall after turning off the switch. Kat took in a small breath and her heart began to pound faster in her chest once he looked into her eyes again.

“Goodnight…Kitty-Kat,” he murmured softly as he reached out to touch her shoulder and flash one final grin before backing away.

“Goodnight…Julian…” she whispered with glossy eyes. She then watched him as he walked out of the room.

Neither one of them slept well that night, each in their separate beds while their hearts secretly longed to be with the other.

#mendax undercover #assangie #kassangie #the fifth estate #can you spot the easter eggs?#my shitty writing

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