#lack of safety measures
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gurutrends · 22 days ago
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Hunger: The Benue governor blames the harvest of deaths in Ibadan, Abuja, and Anambra on a lack of safety measures
Hunger: The Benue governor blames the harvest of deaths in Ibadan, Abuja, and Anambra on a lack of safety measures Recall that there was a stampede during a children’s funfair in Ibadan on Wednesday, December 18, 2024, which led to the loss of lives. There were two other separate incidents in Abuja and Okija, in Anambra State, where surging crowds became uncontrollable, during food distribution.…
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scrimblobimblowhump · 9 months ago
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Biggest whump pet peeve (in film): when there’s a scene where whumpee is held captive or something and the restraints are SO blatantly fake. Like stop lying, we all know the “rope” is ridiculously thin and loose and you can tear out of it with one move 😭😭 or when the gag is a strip of cloth so thin their lips touch over it - istg if you don’t stop faking the forced ahh muffled noises, we all know you can talk perfectly fine 💀
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changetheprophecy81 · 9 months ago
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"The marauders should have been expelled for what they did to Snape 😤😤"
Tom riddle let a giant motherfucking snake that can kill just by looking on lose in a school full of kids to kill all the students of a particular blood status, and ended up actually killing a student
The most Albus 'the greatest wizard of all time' Dumbledore did was 'keeping an annoyingly close watch on him.' (it's also worth noting that tom learnt how to split his soul from books procured from the school library under said watch)
Lyk.....wtf did u expect, keep up!😂😂
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blue-banana-the-first · 1 year ago
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I've been thinking about a lot of stuff lately with the genocide going on and one thing that struck me is that when people talk about politicians that turn out to be corrupt, we're not surprised?
We all have this inherit belief that no one is actually on our side, and that the only way people in power would ever think of helping us would be if we were able to benefit in one way or another??!!
And this belief isn't the problem, the problem is that we're all so used to thinking this way that we never stop and feel horrified by it.
The boycott started and everyone is finding out that if you're boycotting a brand for supporting a genocide you're boycotting it for another morally dubious thing they did, and we're not horrified by all that!
I have been watching criminal minds recently and one thing I will tell you is that at a certain of point of binging, the dead bodies no longer horrified me, they no longer were a part of why the crime committed scared me, in other words I've been desensitised to the violence (obviously this is a very loose example cause if it's not the dead bodies that are scaring me, it's how they died that will make me sick)
The media we've all consumed at some point or another shows the government to be inheritly evil, which while it is a reality in a lot of cases, it's weird to think that this reality doesn't shock us anymore. we're so used to thinking that all politicians are corrupt but we're not surprised when they do something morally wrong, we voted for Biden because he was less evil that Trump. (I don't know if that still holds up anymore) Not becaus ewe thought he was good person.
We've all been conditioned into expecting the worst from our governments that we no longer feel the need to fight them when they do something atrocious unless it surpasses our suspension of disbelief (ik this is a term used in literature but I use it here to explain that we're willing not to question a lot of governmental decisions for the sake of maintaining the narrative that they still have our best interests at heart)
We know politicians are corrupt and we let them get away with it until we realise that their corruption extends to us too.
We know politicians are corrupt and we let then get away with it because we've always been taught that them being corrupt is a part of life.
We pray not for our politicians to not be corrupt but for their corruption to align with our best interests.
This thought horrifies me and it should horrify you too because either you realised that your best interest doesn't align with the direction of the corruption or that you're next.
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diabolocracy · 2 months ago
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Anything new about Bill S 210?
From what the Parliament site says, it hasn't been touched since June. But between now and sometime next year there's probably going to be an election so that can change at any time, especially if they begin to rush things.
#What I find funny is the lack of conservative blowback.#They were soooo against Digital ID in Canada like what - half a year ago?#And now here's a bill that can be used to force Digital ID for any site that may lead to adult material#which is pretty much the whole internet except children's websites#and they're silent!#And people want to elect them here next time. Ahaha.#Canada#Politics#Bill S-210#Keeping their kids safe from online harm is mommy and daddy's problem.#If they give their brat a tablet as a babysitter and never check in or don't implement child safety measures...#Then they're failures as parents.#Young kids should need to earn online privacy.#My dad would always sneak up and look over my shoulder until I was like 15-16 to make sure I wasn't up to something stupid#and it annoyed me at the time but I get why he did it.#I wasn't allowed my own computer until I was like. Mid-teens.#After I'd proven that I could be trusted with it - that I wouldn't get into legal trouble or overshare my info to strangers.#Online access isn't a toy it's a public space with strangers on it.#It's like letting your very young kid go to a public park in a sleazy city alone.#The park is nice but there's a sex shop on every corner and anyone can be in the park.#And my dad - the main parent that raised me - was in the fucking military. He wasn't some guy that was never busy.#But he was able to make time. He was able to familiarize himself with new tech even though he was in his 40s-50s.#It's called having an interest in your own fucking kids.#I guess.#I just wish he'd have practiced what he preached when he taught me how to clear the browser history#lmao
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queeranarchism · 1 month ago
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I think the left completely failed to form an effective covid-safety strategy.
First they failed by putting far too little effort into winning systematic changes (access to health care, access to paid sick leave, ventilation of work- and public spaces, etc) and putting most of the focus on individual behaviors that they could judge individuals for (vaccines and above all masking).
Their second failure was to then primarily rely on punitive pressure and scolding people to achieve that behavior. Which meant that this strategy only kind of worked a little when they had enough people to keep up that pressure. The moment that pressure wasn't enough anymore, most people stopped masking because they'd only even done it because of external pressure.
This left us with nothing. No systematic changes and no group safety.
At that point, the third failure was to change nothing once it became abundantly clear that these tactics weren't working. People wrote comics and long reads and video essays about the lack of solidarity of people who stopped masking, and while there was truth there, that didn't change anything.
Yet at no point did people take stock, re-assess and change strategy. To this day people are just doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. In fact, people seem to just double down. Where they talked about a range of safety measures in the past they've switched to only talking about masking. Where they used a range of tactics in the past, they've switched to only scolding.
And when you challenge them, the response is something like "But I am right, this is unjust, so people should change when I tell them it is unjust". But that's not a strategy. Creating societal change doesn't require being right, it requires having an effective plan on how to actually achieve real change.
And I don't have a full draft of what would make an effective strategy. I think unions could play a big role in achieving things paid sick leave and proper ventilation. But I don't have all the answers either. I think there needs to be an acknowledgement that what's currently happening isn't working, and that a new strategy is long overdue.
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soobnny · 3 months ago
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stay (forever, if you’d like) — lee know x reader ; the six times he asks you to stay (2.3k words)
happy bday lee know, you are my light
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one.
There’s this thing about Minho—in the way his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes sharp, and lips always in a tight line. It’s why they call him cold, unapproachable. The same people that have intrigue and intimidation written on their faces when they lay eyes on the boy.
They just don’t know him.
His eyes are a lot softer than they describe. They’re wide, wonder-like, and they shine with something you can’t quite identify, but there. Present. There is so much you can decipher with a single look—mischief, pain, sincerity, love.
Those same eyes are looking at you right now. Almost pleading, but painfully trying not to look obvious.
“It’s getting dark outside.” He acts as if he isn’t the reason you’re still at his dorm.
Attempts at leaving, all in vain, flash before your eyes. You have to admit, your best friend is nothing but convincing, and a little manipulative in how he keeps you captive until there is reason for you to stay. “You should stay.”
You can hear the kettle whistling from a distance. It’s water for tea with measurements for two, like he knew you wouldn’t leave.
“Min.” You let out a breathy laugh. He’s almost detached himself from the couch he’d sprawled himself on earlier, inching closer and closer and closer until he gets the answer that he wants.
It’s obviously for your safety, it’s dangerous walking along at night. You would be stupid not to stay. That’s what he tells himself, but there is a feeling in his stomach telling him there’s more to it. He really really doesn’t want to think about it right now.
“Fine,” you sigh.
“Good decision. It seems that you value your life after all,” he says. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips that he doesn’t quite show. You can always tell, though. It’s usually when he gets something he wants.
“But I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”
(You won’t.)
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two.
seungmin (2:03am): pls pick minho up. drunk
You have to look at Seungmin’s message twice before it properly registers.
You remember Minho telling you he wouldn’t be drinking tonight, but it seems there’s been slight changes to his plans. You wonder if Jisung’s peer pressure finally worked on him tonight.
yn (2:05am): omw
Your dorm is only a few minutes away from where they’re drinking, and your best friend had asked you to come with him earlier, but you’d decided against it. You weren’t in the mood for the stench of alcohol in your nasal cavity.
Though, with your sudden task of picking the boy up, it seems unavoidable now.
It isn’t difficult to spot him. The moment you’re merely a block away, you find Minho just outside with a sleeping Felix on his shoulder. Their backs are slouched, and his eyes look like they’re fighting not to close.
“(Name)!” Seungmin calls out for you first, and it’s hard to miss Minho’s head pointed directly in your direction the moment your name slips out of his friend’s mouth, like he’s been looking there this whole time.
“It was fun to have blackmail material at first, but now I’m just tired.” The younger boy sighs.
You laugh, and something bitter bubbles in the sitting boy’s stomach. He lets himself sit on the feeling for quite a while. Jealousy is an ugly monster, but he doesn’t know that yet. “Please take care of him.”
When you crouch in front of Minho, the scowl on his face softens.
“You’re here.” He mumbles, exhaustion dripping from his voice. He reaches out to you, and Seungmin mutters something you don’t quite hear.
“Did you have fun?”
“Mmm,” he hums. He’s really drunk. And by his curtained eyes and his lack of dignity, you can tell he’s a goner. And so is the sleeping boy next to him.
You look around to see if there’s a convenience store nearby. Water would be a good buffer to the eventual hangover that’s waiting for them in the morning.
“‘M just gonna buy some wat—”
“Stay.” He interrupts you, just loud enough that you get a whiff of the whiskey he’d been drinking.
“You’ll feel better if you drink water.” Your eyes flicker to the convenience store for a moment before refocusing on your best friend.
A visible frown crosses his features, and his skin is flushed out from drinking. “You just arrived. Stay, please?” The way he begs entices you, because it’s not often that your best friend pleads.
“You’re saying please? You must be really drunk.” You laugh before falling to sit next to him in resignation. There is no arguing with him, not when he’s gripping the bottom of your shirt and tugging for you to stay with him for a moment.
Then there’s a sudden weight on your shoulder. He mirrors the way Felix is laying on him.
Five minutes pass.
“Wanna nap.” He mumbles. Minho feels so much like a child like this.
“You can sleep at my dorm tonight.”
“You’ll stay with me there?” He asks, almost innocent. He lifts his head from your shoulder momentarily and looks at you—eyes hazy and hair fucked out from the harsh winds of the early morning. And yet, he still looked pretty. Even at 2 in the morning.
“Mhm, but we have to go now.” Minho groans when your warmth suddenly leaves him, but he doesn’t have time to dwell when your hand meets his vision, outstretched for him to hold.
Seungmin whisks Felix awake.
“Okay.” He grabs your hand with a tired grip, and your bones rattle at how he intertwines your fingers. As if he’s always held your hand that way. And he keeps it that way until you arrive just ten minutes after.
Minho crashes on your couch before you can even hand him a glass of water.
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three.
“Stay.” Stone cold sternness.
Minho doesn’t boss you around, at least, never seriously. He knows you hate being told what to do, but there is something about the circumstances right now, something in the fear of your voice, that has him using imperatives.
“Just—” He cuts himself off, trying to keep himself calm.
Even through a phone call, you know what face he’s pulling. That scowl, lips shut, eyes angry. “Stay with Chan. I’m on my way.”
“I don’t know why he’s here.” Fear drips from your voice far too easily and your painstricken words make it difficult for the boy not to speed. Your ex-boyfriend has always tried keeping contact with you despite your obvious distaste. He makes you uncomfortable, and he has aggression tendencies.
The thought of him makes Minho step on his accelerator. He’s thankful Chan is with you. Had he not, Minho would’ve been in deep trouble with the law enforcement.
“You’re with Chan, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Good.”
When he arrives, he asks his friend to lead you to his car.
Minho is really angry, and the sight of your ex-boyfriend kicks things up a higher notch. You don’t know what he’s about to do, but he’s scary when he’s upset. Chan tries to take your attention away, but the dynamic in Minho’s voice is too loud. It’s the one he doesn’t like to use on anyone he cares about.
“You’re lucky we’re in public. If you so much as look at my best friend, I’m going to kill you.” There is no remorse when he speaks, and his fists are balled up tight. He’s trying his best not to use them. “Fuck you.”
He returns to you and Chan no longer than five minutes, but definitely long enough to scare off your ex-boyfriend. Chan hands him his car keys, and Minho says nothing the entire ride home. His anger is still evident, almost seething off of him.
“Are you okay?” He asks long after Chan is gone, and it’s only the two of you just outside your dorm. The night air is crisp, cold in contrast to the overwhelming heat he’d felt earlier. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn—”
Minho shuts his mouth when you suddenly wrap your arms around him. “Thank you.”
The rage melts from his face, features softening. He brings his own arms around you.
He stays the night at your dorm.
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four.
They’re so pretty!”
Your face stands out in the sea of spring’s flowers. You’re unaware of the way he’s looking at you, eyes shifting in excitement.
“I hope the bees sting you.” You roll your eyes at him, dropping your vision to continue admiring the fields of flowers. They’ve bloomed so beautifully.
Minho disappears for a moment, but you don’t worry too much. He was probably looking for the nearest bench. You’d dragged him out after all. He hasn’t changed at all since you’d gotten together. He was still stubborn, and yet sickeningly sweet when he wanted to.
Your boyfriend comes back with his hands behind his back, and it has you squinting at him. What could he be up to this time?
He’s suddenly standing impossibly close to you, and you almost lose the rhythm of your breathing with how close he is. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. “Stay still.”
His hand reaches out towards you, fingers pushing a few strands of your hair away. A quiet heartbeat later, he pulls back, and the only difference you feel is something pinched just behind your ear. You wonder if it’s what you think it is.
(It is. An unassuming flower decorates the side of your face.)
Minho’s heart softens at the sight. “Pretty.”
The sight of you brings spring’s flowers to shame, he thinks.
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five.
Arguing has always been something that wasn’t easy for the both of you, especially Minho. He hated fighting, but sometimes, it couldn’t be helped.
It’s how you found yourselves with puffy eyes and red noses. You barely remember what you were arguing about in the first place, but you have an overwhelming urge to leave. You think it’s so the fight doesn’t escalate, and because you don’t like that look on his face.
You say nothing when you move to open the door.
“What are you doing?” He sighs. He’s hesitant if he should step forward or not.
“I’m leaving.”
“You can’t.”
“I can, and I will.” You sniffle, a hand coming up to wipe your stubborn tears before planting on the doorknob of your shared apartment. “I hate it when we fight.”
“You don’t think I hate it too?” He frowns, hand hovering over yours. “But leaving isn’t the right option right now. Just stay, and we’ll talk about it more in the morning. I know you’re tired, but please. Stay.”
You cry even more into his chest, but he couldn’t be less bothered at the snot that’s staining his shirt. He brings you closer by your waist, hand patting down on your hair to quietly try and soothe you. He regrets letting the argument escalate this far. “I’m sorry.”
“‘M sorry for ruining your shirt.” You pull away, eyes trained on the big wet stain decorating the shirt he’s wearing.
“It’ll dry by tomorrow morning.” He reassures you, swaying the both of you gently. “Please don’t ever think about leaving.”
There’s something about the pain in his eyes that has your heart breaking further, and the way he bends down to cup your cheeks softly in his hands. He doesn’t reek of frustration anymore.
“Wasn’t gonna.” You mutter.
“You scared me for a second.” He shakes your head in his palms slowly before pressing a wet kiss on your lips. Your face is warm from crying. “Just… stay.”
(Forever, if you can. If you’d like.)
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six.
You wake up to find him already looking at you, though he’s barely awake himself.
A greeting sits on his tongue, of your third anniversary, but he swallows it down for a moment. “Did you sleep well?” He asks instead, voice a little husky from the morning air.
“Hmmm.” You yawn, feeling something tickle just behind you. You know it’s one of the cats. They’ve grown into the habit of joining you and Minho in bed lately.
He smiles at you softly, arms reaching out to tug you back against his warm, very shirtless chest. And while you’d hate to ruin the quiet of the morning, you know you have to leave in a bit. You’d promised to run a quick errand.
“Baby, have to go.” You giggle when his grip only tightens around you. It’s never easy peeling yourself out of bed with Minho.
“How mean, already trying to leave me on our anniversary.” You know he’s pouting by the way he talks to you. You can only laugh—breathy and genuinely happy.
“I’ll be quick.” You whisper, and you hear a quiet ‘meow’ from your left.
“The babies would hate to see you go.” He whines.
“How classy of you to use them against me.” He smirks quite proudly, limbs still heavy over you. He refuses to let you go, not when your skin on his is a reminder of the things that had happened the night before, not when it feels this comfortable.
The sun continues to seep through the blinds to join the both of you, a taunting reminder that you really had to leave. You try to tug your arm free, but his fingers dig deeper into your skin.
“I’ll be right back.” You try to convince him, but all he does is plant a kiss on your neck before burying his face back into the scent of your hair. You know there’s no talking this out with Minho.
“Stay.” You can’t help the way your heart swells at a single word. “You won’t regret it.”
You have a feeling there’s a different connotation to his words. You think you know what.
“Fine.” You know there was never a chance that he’d let you go, even if you tried to wriggle yourself out.
He smiles. “Just wanna stay like this a little bit longer.”
Minho meets your lips like it’s the perfect time to do so. It is, always. He kisses you sweetly, gently, like there wasn’t anything else to do. He doesn’t make a move even when his phone rings somewhere in the room.
And you’ll stay. And stay, and stay, and stay.
Forever.
You think you’d like that.
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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago
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Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.
Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.
Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?
He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??
Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.
The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.
Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??
He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.
Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.
——
“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.
Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.
“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”
Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.
“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”
Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.
Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.
He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.
(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)
“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”
“I kept them in line!”
Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.
“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”
“I-”
“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”
“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.
“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”
“Fine! Fine!”
——
And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.
Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.
In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.
Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.
The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…
——
“So, you’re The Phantom.”
“And you’re Sionis.”
Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.
Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.
“How did you get in here?”
Danny shrugged. “Walked.”
Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.
“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”
“So, you’re a Meta.”
Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”
Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.
“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.
“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”
Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.
“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.
“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”
“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”
Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”
“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”
Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.
“I’ve got her, Phantom.”
Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.
“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”
And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.
But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.
——
Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”
From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?
But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!
Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.
On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.
Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.
Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.
He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.
He sipped his drink as he waited.
“Batman.”
“Phantom.”
“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”
Batman stayed silent.
“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.
“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.
“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”
Batman snarled.
“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.
Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.
“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”
“You-”
“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”
Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.
“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”
Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.
“… Apologies.”
“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”
Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”
Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.
Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.
“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.
Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.
“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”
“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.
Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”
Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.
“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.
Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.
“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”
Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.
“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.
“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.
——
“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”
“Hn.”
“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”
Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.
——
The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.
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soulprompts · 7 months ago
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SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP PROMPTS.
listen. i want to tell ye that i have infinite reasons for making this. that i've been designing this for weeks, months even. but i can't. this happened because i saw one (1) meme and aligned that with two (2) cups of coffee. either way besties, you're all getting a strangely detailed list of reasons to drop your muse into another muse's lap. you wanna switch the roles? add a [ REVERSE ] if you want your muse to be the lap that's being sat in! don't add to this list, don't claim it as your own, i'll curse all your potatoes to be soapy and sad to consume.
[ SHAVE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can carefully shave the last of the receiver's stubble from their face.
[ MAKE-UP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to get a better vantage point to apply makeup to their face.
[ SNIP-SNIP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap whilst giving them a haircut.
[ HAIR ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so that the receiver can style or just play with their hair in peace.
[ CAR ]: sender ends up sitting in the receiver's lap whilst in a very crowded car together.
[ STUMBLE ]: sender loses their balance and trips backwards, falling into the receiver's lap in the process.
[ INTIMIDATION ]: sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.
[ LOOK ]: sender, wanting to see something that can only really be seen from where the receiver is sitting, sits in their lap in order to see it as well.
[ HEAL ]: sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities.
[ FEAR ]: a frightened sender sits in the receiver's lap in an effort to feel some measure of safety and protection.
[ COMFORT ]: sender, after a challenging and emotionally draining experience, settles into the receiver's lap in search of a feeling of comfort.
[ ADJUST ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to fix their collar or tie or other item of clothing.
[ STRADDLE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap with one leg on either side of their legs, straddling them effectively.
[ EMBRACE ]: sender settles in the receiver's lap to give them a long, well-deserved hug in comfort.
[ CARRY ]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down.
[ THROW ]: sender flings themselves at the receiver, so eager for a hug that they end up in their lap.
[ DROP ]: exasperated (or maybe just exhausted) the sender drops down into the receiver's lap to rest.
[ CUDDLE ]: eager for some well-earned cuddling, the sender finds it much easier for everyone involved to sit in the receiver's lap during the cuddle session.
[ MOVIE ]: while watching a movie together (and possibly being so distracted by the film that they don't realize what they're doing) the sender settles back into the receiver's lap.
[ CHAIR ]: the distinct lack of available chairs in a room results in the sender having no choice but to sit in the receiver's lap.
[ CLOSENESS ]: after having been apart for a considerable length of time, the sender sits into the receiver's lap just to be close to them.
[ PRETEND ]: in a bid to persuade others that they're in a relationship (even though they're probably not) the sender climbs into the receiver's lap to convince the on-lookers of their legitimacy.
[ LEARN ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can teach them a particular practical skill (e.g. pottery, knot-tying etc.)
[ ACCIDENT ]: the sender, unaware that the seat they're trying to claim is occupied, drops into the receiver's lap without realizing it.
[ EXHAUSTION ]: the sender, surrounded by nothing but uncomfortable places to rest in, finds a solution by sitting in the receiver's lap in order to rest and possibly sleep.
[ CHILLED ]: the sender and receiver find themselves in a particularly cold room, leading the sender to sit in the receiver's lap in order to share body heat.
[ KISS ]: the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.
[ FLIRT ]: the sender, only just beginning to explore the romantic side of a relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap in order to express their feelings clearly.
[ ROMANCE ]: the sender, in a well-established romantic relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap just because they can.
[ THRONE ]: having found the receiver sitting in their throne, the sender sits in their lap in order to symbolically and physically share the seat.
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imastoryteller · 10 months ago
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19 Most Common Character Flaws in Horror Fiction
Curiosity: Characters who are overly curious may investigate dangerous situations or places, leading to their downfall.
Arrogance: Arrogant characters may underestimate threats or refuse to heed warnings, putting themselves in danger.
Recklessness: Characters who act impulsively or without considering the consequences may find themselves in perilous situations.
Naivety: Naive characters may be easily deceived or manipulated by villains or supernatural forces.
Overconfidence: Overconfident characters may believe they can handle any situation, leading them to take unnecessary risks.
Stubbornness: Stubborn characters may refuse to listen to advice or change their course of action, even when it's clear they're in danger.
Greed: Greedy characters may prioritize personal gain over safety, leading them to make unethical or dangerous choices.
Distrust: Characters who are overly distrustful may alienate allies or miss crucial information, making them more vulnerable.
Cowardice: Cowardly characters may abandon others in dangerous situations or fail to confront threats when necessary.
Impulsiveness: Impulsive characters may act without thinking, leading to mistakes or putting themselves in harm's way.
Lack of Empathy: Characters who lack empathy may disregard the well-being of others, making them more susceptible to manipulation or isolation.
Overprotectiveness: Overprotective characters may prioritize the safety of loved ones to the detriment of their own safety or the safety of others.
Addiction: Characters who are addicted to substances or behaviors may make irrational decisions or be more easily controlled by external forces.
Obsession: Characters who are obsessed with a goal or idea may pursue it at any cost, even endangering themselves or others.
Paranoia: Paranoid characters may see threats where none exist, leading them to take extreme measures or isolate themselves unnecessarily.
Lack of Self-awareness: Characters who lack self-awareness may fail to recognize their own limitations or the impact of their actions on others.
Insecurity: Insecure characters may doubt their own abilities or judgment, making them more susceptible to manipulation or self-destructive behavior.
Ignorance: Characters who are ignorant of the true nature of the threats around them may underestimate their danger or fail to take necessary precautions.
Desperation: Characters who are desperate may make rash decisions or ally themselves with dangerous individuals or entities in hopes of achieving their goals.
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divinerapturesys · 1 year ago
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Welcome to my Ted Talk about AsPD, or Antisocial Personality Disorder, which the internet likes to coin as sociopath 👌🏻 if you don’t like long infodumps about stigmatized mental disorders from someone who is diagnosed, move on.
Quick toxic rundown: People with AsPD are generally characterized as emotionless, violent, manipulative abusers who kill animals and like to make other people their bitches. The biggest pet peeve we have is the emotionless, sadistic and abusive generalization.
Personally, we are highly neurotic, with highs and lows of: depression, frantic drive, self abuse tactics, chronic fear, lapses of rejection, overwhelming over-analyzation, grey area thinking, false goods and false bads, ultimatums, obsessive compulsive behavior, harsh self demands, and irritability.
AsPD is a disorder that is caused primarily (according to current research) by trauma and abuse in childhood; most notably being emotional neglect and absent caregivers that cause a child to have emotional shutdowns and repression episodes in an attempt to self soothe. Primary caregivers who do not bond with their children are also a factor. Children learn how to behave from those around them. If a primary caregiver is emotionally distant and unavailable, children will learn that is normal behavior and that’s how people are. If a primary caregiver does not provide empathy and sympathy during moments of distress and fear, children will learn that aloofness and disregard of others feelings is normal behavior. If a primary caregiver does not keep a child safe, children will learn that they should not prioritize their own safety or the safety of others. You can find my follow up post regarding this here.
Neglected and abused children often act out trying to get attention and help, often acting out in bad ways because they lack the ability to articulate what they’re feeling and what is happening to them. The pipeline for AsPD typically is: Oppositional Defiance Disorder as a child, Conduct Disorder as a teen, AsPD as an adult. There are a lot of warning signs cueing that AsPD is becoming a risk for development, but often kids do not have a support system to help negate it as it’s their support system that is usually a factor in its creation.
Being AsPD is like being an emotional La Croix 70% of the time. If you’re depressed, then it’s like someone in the other room has depression and is telling you about it. The other 30% of the time, if you’re depressed, your brain doesn’t understand how to handle it so it’s an ultimatum between doing something drastic to remove the Trigger or ignoring and dissociating for days on end.
People with AsPD are very good at ignoring things. Honestly it’s problematic as fuck but it’s not hard to ignore major issues when you just, don’t care. It’s not in the terms of being cruel or making ourselves not care, but the fact that finding the emotional willpower is so far out of our feasible reach we don’t do it. This causes us to piss people off because we don’t have the capacity to care as much as they want us to, even if we can and do to an extent.
Think of it this way: empathy/sympathy is a deep tub of water that everyone has. They can easily fill their measuring cup for the needed amount of empathy without any issues and it’s easy for them. People with AsPD don’t have a tub of water. We have shallow skillet. When we try to dip our cup to fill it, we can’t, it always comes up short and it is difficult to get any water in it as there is no room for the cup to dive. Our ability to care is limited because we do not have the same emotional resources everyone else does.
❌ False Positives & False Negatives ❌
I operate on what I’ve learned are called false positives and false negatives. These are things that are trained into the brain from an early age based off of childhood trauma and other factors. False positives are a distorted version of why we do something to help ourself and for our own good, meanwhile a false negative is something we do because it’s a threat, or based out of fear.
❌ Some of my false positives:
- It is good to be afraid of nothing
- It is good to adapt to someone’s personality if they are stronger than you
- It is good to isolate yourself
- It is good to be a silver tongue because you can get into any place you want
- It is good to become a social chameleon and shape yourself to whatever those around you need/want most, because then you have no chance of being abandoned
❌ Some of my false negatives, which can explain the false positives as well as core beliefs:
- it is bad to be afraid, if I am afraid then I am vulnerable and it can be used against me
- It is bad to be emotional or show concern for others emotions because they do not care for mine
- It is bad to be able to be exploited, because I believe it is everywhere
- It is bad to allow myself to be bored, because boredom begets bad thoughts and no one can or wants to help me when I spiral
- It is bad to not shape yourself to the social circle, because people quickly grow tired of those who do not match them perfectly and being discarded means I failed
My core beliefs can be viewed as the root for the false positives and negatives, because they are based on the core of trauma, abuse and neglect. They come from patterns and instances that make someone with AsPD become the opposite of what they experienced:
- eat or be eaten
- If I don’t show that my bite is worse than my bark, I will be taken advantage of and I must remain on top because the ones on top are safe
- I must look out for myself because nobody will do it for me
- It doesn’t matter what happens to me, therefore it doesn’t matter what people think of me
- If I cannot do something well, then I should not do it at all
- If you are dependent on others for emotional and mental well being, you are weak, therefore I must isolate myself to avoid becoming codependent and a burden and useless
- If I can handle the stress of a situation better than everyone else, therefore I will keep the problem (financial, emotional, mental, etc) to myself to reduce chances of being abandoned due to failure of perfection
People with AsPD are hard to get along with. We often:
- are always anticipating a fight
- lack respect for authority
- ignore social structures to an extent
- tendency to lie if it’ll lessen punishment or if we feel the lie is more acceptable than our actions
- limit social support because it’s wrong to be dependent on others
- have an inflated view of our own importance — which turns into a self ridicule for believing someome like me could be found important to others —
- can be rude and inconsiderate of others feelings somewhat unintentionally
- are unable to read the correct social cues in relation to empathy towards people and animals
- am constantly confused by others dependence upon empathy and inability to make desicions from logic based standpoints
We can’t speak for everyone who has AsPD, nor are we saying that no one with AsPD is capable of being a murderer/abuser etc. but we are saying that y’all need to stop automatically classifying someone as a certain “type” as soon as you know about their disorder.
One last thing I do want to point out is that it is not uncommon for people with AsPD to derive some sort of enjoyment in causing harm, doing something illegal, hurting someone or animals, etc. This entirely stems from lack of environmental control as a child. Being able to control what happens to others or being able to control the things you say or do that hurts someone else is a hefty high to get addicted to; it soothes the underlying itch of not being able to control your own trauma and abuse, so in turn you push these behaviors onto others and enjoy it because it gives you a sense of power and control. Some people with AsPD do genuinely love hurting others, and some enjoy hurting others when they believe it’s deserved or their ire has been stoked. Some enjoy causing pain to those they think deserve it, and others don’t care who they hurt as long as they feel like they’re in control of the situation.
Hope this have some insight into AsPD 🤙🏻 if y’all have any questions, shoot.
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verdantwyrm · 1 month ago
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In Defense of Curly (Again)
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This post is not about absolving Curly of his “sins” or anything, Curly is not an innocent angel that has done no wrong, no, he is morally grey as they come. But I will not stand for slander on my wife NO MORE. Curly is not as guilty as you would think, but neither is he Innocent. Anya is so much more than a victim, Curly is so much more than a bystander, and Jimmy is so much more than a rapist, they are multifaceted characters in a very multidimensional game. They’re all characters that have been individually crafted to tell a story, and everyone is avoiding that by reducing them to a singular note of events rather than their entire personality and even going as far to twist their dialogue and character to fit their own bias, ignoring whats actual factual and canon for the sake of projection.
So with that out of the way, let us begin.
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A sense of timeline for better understanding.
Curly's Psych Eval (and by extension, Jimmys) was 7 Days before the crash. Curly does not know Anya is pregnant here. 
The birthday Party is 6 Days before the crash. Curly doesn't know here either. 
The Dead Pixel scene is 2 Days before the Crash. Curly doesn't know here either. 
Anya stealing the gun is 1 Day Before the Crash. Curly Finds out Anya is pregnant here and that Jimmy is responsible. Anya tells Jimmy about the pregnancy and tells Curly about it. 0 Days before the crash (The Same Day)
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Pony Express’ Abuse
As for the first subject, I want to make it very clear about Pony Express’ Failure to comply and have any standard safety measures (most noticeably in the lack of locks) and the fact that they very often penalize their employees by taking from their pay and that they’re extremely lazy and known to cut corners for everything. The poster in-game tells us a lot about this if not backed up directly by the dialogue.
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"Proper preparation prevents accidents, it is your responsibility to keep yourself and the crew safe. Medical expenses will be docked from person credits."
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"Punctual delivery is our pride and promise- No matter where you are! Late deliveries will be docked from personal credits."
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"Teamwork is the soul of success! When you have completed your tasks, always check on other tasks! HR complaints about poor team synergy may result in collective punishment"
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"Sleep is the best rest after a long day of work, earn that rest! Don't overdo it or fall behind! Do not indulge in over 5 hours of forest, including leisure time. Sleeping over the allowed budget will result in disciplinary actions."
Neither Curly nor Jimmy are getting anything close to the required amount of rest for such a demanding job, with only 5 hours compared to the IRL guidelines for pilots to get an average of 10 hours of rest between shifts with 8 hours of sleep, it's also implied by Anya and Curly's own dialogue that he struggles to sleep. Which all together implies that they're both working 19-hour shifts every day. Every. Single. Day.
We see them both on shift at the same time multiple times during the game and Curly is the only one with clearance to make certain extremely important navigation decisions (like turning off the autopilot) and we can easily come to the conclusion that they are both extremely overworked, Curly Especially.
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We can easily see that Pony Express are not shy to punish their employees and even goes as far as to routinely engage in collective punishment, and this is shown to be the drive behind a lot of Curly's decisions in particular, especially with how he reassures Anya that her stealing the gun case will not go on the performance log and reducing the chances of her being punished at all and to probably put the pressure onto himself in case Pony Express does find out. Given her precarious financial situation, she literally cannot afford to have her pay docked and Curly knows this.
Pony Express is known for its laziness, negligence and its ability to cut corners, they are also seen to not trust its employees by making everything have to go through him from axe usage to making a cake. To not supplying enough medical equipment, a fifth cryogenic pod to account for Daisuke or even to account for him at all. Curly himself even commented on how he should have made a bigger “stink” about the situation of Daisuke being thrown on the Tulpar last minute, which implies that he did raise this as an issue and a safety risk and was ignored.
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I'm not going to take this as seriously but it is worth mentioning regardless because it is just absolutely Kafkaesque levels of absurd, They actively make it borderline impossible to report anything, so even if Curly or Anya were able to get ahold of Pony Express to send in a report, they never could due to the requirements and the prerequisites. It also implies that if you apply for a job there but refuse the medical evaluation, they can fine you despite the fact that you don't even actually work there yet.
Another classic example of Marx's theory is of the alienation in capitalism, wherein workers are estranged and separated from the products of their own labour. The crew had absolutely no idea what they were delivering, and judging by how much was put in place, they were never supposed to.
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Marx's theory, the implementation of automation would negatively impact workers by depriving them of job opportunities that could have been filled by humans. This is strongly suggested to be the primary reason for the downfall of Pony Express and why the crew was fired.
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Anya’s Assault
Anya being assaulted is never outright said, with an intentional layer of vagueness layered over the top with how she talks about it and how she mentions it to Curly. The words “Assault” “Rape” or even “Attacked” are not mentioned at any point, we only learn this through visual imagery and subtext of Anya mentioning the lack of locks on the doors, how unsafe she feels around Jimmy, and she would rather him not have the gun at all—fawning at his every response in a panic of upsetting him or escalating the situation. The words are never explicitly said as many other victims can sympathise with, saying the words out loud can be very difficult sometimes, and Anya’s vagueness was intentional on the happenchance that Curly did take Jimmy’s side. She was trying to put distance between herself and that possibility by being as cautious and as vague as she could, in hopes that Curly would pick up on the signs himself and come to that conclusion himself instead of Anya babying him and dumbing down the situation.
This is a believable reaction, especially when your abuser has any kind of power over you or other people, and he isn’t the only one either. Curly has just as much power, if not significantly more over her, which adds more to the fear of even mentioning such a thing, as mentioned earlier in my section of Pony Express' Abuse towards them, the possibility of being penalized with her– and everyone else –pay being docked because she made a simple complaint, was a very real threat, and even more dangerous after finding out about the whole crew being laid off. Jimmy tears her down every chance he gets, makes her feel little and even compares her to Polle in his hallucinations. And Anya knows that he and Curly have a very lengthy history, so her caution and anxiety about even mentioning the incident, let alone saying the word “rape” is borderline impossible for her. It’s a manifestation, it’s a verbal acceptance and confession that it’s even happened. Something she has been trying to avoid coming to terms with.
And when she does eventually tell Swansea what happened, as much as you want to think she told him- she most likely told him to not do anything, to try and keep the peace for as long as possible.
Again, her vagueness is not her fault, nor is it her responsibility. It was Jimmy’s responsibility to not abuse and rape her.
It’s also very present that Jimmy is verbally abusive to her, putting her down at every opportunity by ignoring her very talented medical skills by saying Pony Express only hired her to cut corners in an attempt to reduce costs because she failed Medical School and that she’s not a “real nurse” because of that, and how he constantly questions her skills despite keeping Curly alive for such a long time in such a state.
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After being insulted by him multiple times, she fawns to get him to actually do something beneficial because she knows he responds well to praise, and he complies, all while still insulting and belittling her for being "weak" and "sentimental"
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The Dead Pixel In The Room
Going to immediately preface this with a very big obvious “Curly did not know Anya was raped” warning sign to hopefully weed out the weak that don’t want to actually read this. You can leave now if you’d like, no hard feelings. This scene is supposed to be your first clue as a player, as well as Curly's. It's intentional to be like that, it makes the most sense chronologically as well because up until that point, we don't even know.
Okay, we can start now. First, off the bat, I want to talk about that dead pixel scene. And how both Anya and Curly have their own individual meanings behind It, and how both play into each character’s relationship with Jimmy. With Anya’s being a constant reminder of Jimmy’s presence, how it affected her and how it’ll always be there no matter what. And Curly’s is something that he knows exists, but cannot see for himself, because he’s too busy looking at the bigger picture. Even if he knows it's fake, even if he knows it’s an illusion.
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He doesn’t doubt her here either, and even though he admits he cannot see it. He believes that it's there, despite this, and that it doesn’t ruin the image. Choosing to see the good, the beauty, of the bigger picture. The Dead pixel scene isn���t just about Anya, it’s about the both of them. And you’re probably asking how Curly hasn’t gotten the point Anya is trying to make, and thats again because she’s being intentionally vague here, and her comment about the lack of locks ties up pretty well with the previous two conversations she’s had with Curly directly. Complaining about Jimmy being weird during the psych evaluation and then her pithy comment about Pony Express’ cutting back expenses on their food and the comment she makes about the code scanner during the birthday party.
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All of her previous conversations with Curly have been about their work or something going on in the ship or even with Pony Express directly. So it’s not unusual for her comment about the lack of locks on the sleeping quarters, it’s not random, it’s pretty on theme with the direction of how their conversations go, Curly wouldn’t pick up on that alone because it’s not a strange thing to say.
It's also very much shown that Anya trusts Curly, trusts him enough to not only confide in him first about the pregnancy but also allow herself to be open and friendly with him, even going as far as to try and get him to open up to her during his psych evaluation. She is also hiding behind his seat when she steals the gun. She feels the safest when she is with the real captain and how uncomfortable she is listening to Jimmy's orders to strip Curly of that title.
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Every single time that Curly and Anya speak directly, he is always reassuring her, attempting to calm her down and her safety is the first thing he's concerned about when he finds out she's taken the gun.
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And once she mentions the pregnancy, his priorities flip, again to her safety, reassuring her that she won't get punished for this. Once again telling her that everything is going to work out, that WE will fix this, WE WILL figure this out TOGETHER. He and Anya.
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A key important word here is "what would you have done"
Would. Not, what will you do, no she's asking in past tense. The assault has already happened, she is reassuring herself here before telling him about the pregnancy that he is on her side, that he believes her and that her trust in him isn't misplaced.
And when he does find out she's pregnant, he still doesn't know exactly how. And it's important because it reflects back onto how Curly does ultimately behave when he does approach Jimmy. He doesn't know he's confronting a rapist, and his dialogue here proves that he does just think it was ultimately her choice, her decision. And the most painful part Is the very blatant unwanted pregnancy, not anything else.
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Anya is still being intentionally vague here as well, as mentioned earlier. Curly did not actually know that Anya was raped, as the only thing that's mentioned is the pregnancy and that Jimmy is involved. Which is absolutely something to be worried about, regardless of how it happened, because they're on a ship. In the middle of Space.
Someone who knew would not react like that. Curly never once doubts Anya's words or her truth. And after Anya tells Culy about how she told Jimmy about her pregnancy, Curly says that she should have waited for him because he wanted to be there just in case.
Curly even does it literally. The most important part that everybody overlooks is how determined he is to get to the cockpit as the ship is crashing. He knows it's crashing but all he can do is try, he could have run away, but he didn't.
Curly took responsibility multiple different times which is easily overlooked because so much happens in such a short time span that people literally think he had months between knowing about Anya being raped and then the crash when it was barely a day. Just like how people easily overlook the dead pixel scene and how it also represents something to Curly as well, and just like how people overlook Anya's "I told you so"
Curly's kind, forgiving and trusting nature is not inherently bad. It was how it was used against him in an extremely difficult situation, which is exactly what Abusers do time and time again. He failed Anya in such a delicate way and in such a difficult situation, but it's something to understand that Pony Express failed her first, failed her in all the most important ways by even allowing a situation like this to happen. It was Jimmy's responsibility to not be a rapist, but it was Pony Express's fault for even enabling that in the first place.
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Curly's Trauma
A very common thing that people tend to overlook, and this is either because they subconsciously forget that men can be victims of abuse, or simply because they don’t care enough to consider Curly to be one– his relationship with Jimmy and what we can glean from is very abusive, emotionally and verbally and then soon later on physically. Curly is just as much a victim of Jimmy's mistreatment and abuse as Anya is, in their own unique and parallel ways, they both had everything taken from them. We can tell in Jimmy’s behaviour and the way he intentionally isolates Curly in the Birthday scene and the Psychological evaluation in the cockpit, Jimmy takes Curly’s weakness and anxieties and twists them around to isolate him from receiving any help or support from others.
Curly’s biggest weakness is his forgiving nature. We all talk about how Anya is a victim of Jimmy, and she absolutely is, but so is Curly. His first immediate response Jimmy's reaction to Anya announcing her pregnancy is met with immense fear and anxiety with the added soundtrack of what could be equivalent to the sound of Curly's heart racing. He freezes, he fawns, he panics.
Curly's good-natured heart, being lax, trusting and a constant mediator isn't inherently a problem. It was the circumstances that turned that so volatile. If Jimmy wasn't who he was and so readily abusive then Curly's character would not be that detrimental, and his actions would not have such a catastrophic impact. And everyone immediately boiling down those harmless traits and villainising them does much more harm than good, especially since the character they should be targeting is Jimmy, not Curly.
He is beyond terrified, and when he does finally get to Jimmy, he immediately fawns and freezes. He makes absolutely no mention of Anya or anyone else because all that mattered in that panicked situation was easing Jimmy down and resolving the situation. There was truly, absolutely nothing that Curly could have done that wouldn't have resulted in either direct consequences or collective punishment. All of Curly's thoughts, behaviour and actions were as carefully thought out as he possibly could in the short 24 hours or so that he was made aware of Anya's pregnancy and Jimmy's involvement.
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He is trying to eliminate all potential problems in the situation so Curly can take the full front of Jimmy's rage. This again furthers the point of exactly why Curly wouldn't recognise the signs of Anya being abused as well because this is all so normal for him. He’s terrified of Jimmy, and an abuser's main tactic is to make sure that their victims never feel confident to speak up against them, or to ever seek out help from others. It’s why he never rushes to defend himself, he just lets Jimmy do and say all of these horrible things.
And Jimmy immediately stabs back putting him down. Twisting the blame and putting it into Curly. Like he somehow was a part of it all and that it was his fault.
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Curly was and has been a victim of Jimmy's abuse for a very long time on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario which devolved into physical and medical abuse very quickly once Jimmy got his chance. And it is also true that Curly had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed due to bias towards his abusers, and his kind and forgiving nature of simply wanting to see the good in Jimmy, which is also another aspect of what victims believe. Curly enables Jimmy's behaviour towards himself and even goes as far to completely blame himself for everything that happened in How Fish Is Made.
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A lot of victims tend to surround themselves with excuses of why they’re abused, that it’s somehow their fault and that he’s done something awful to deserve it, that this a normal thing that happens, that Jimmy has his reasons to be like this and it isn’t his fault. People argue that Curly should have done more and that he "failed" in any regard is putting a huge expectation onto a victim like him of someone like Jimmy's relentless abuse and how it takes such an impactful toll on someone like Curly. Everyone who plays or watches the game looks over the very easy and subtle warning signs of this abuse and is too busy claiming Curly to be the antagonist here and holding him responsible instead of Jimmy.
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Conclusion + Other Comments
Curly is not perfect, but he is not as guilty as everyone wants him to be. If you go into mouthwashing anticipating Curly as a cruel, selfish monster, of course, you're going to interpret him that way and twist everything he ever does or says to fit your narrative although he very obviously isn't that way at all and get upset when someone tells you you're wrong. You need to remember that he had a whole crew to think of, Curly is not judgement, nor is he the executioner. His hands were absolutely tied and for one reason only: Because Pony Express does, did, and will not care. Pony Express has it explicitly like this so you cannot do anything. So people like Jimmy who manipulate the vulnerable can prey upon his co-workers and get away with it.
The situation on the Tulpar is not as straightforward as people would like, I understand it's extremely cathartic to think of a situation where Jimmy gets what he deserves but it isn't realistic, and thats what this game is trying to say. Abusive corporations, exhausting capitalism, this environment breeds Abusers like Jimmy and victims like Anya and Curly. There was nothing that could be done. Pony Express is what doomed them all, they're the catalyst.
At some point, you have to understand and accept the fact that certain scenarios are simply just cathartic fantasies that simply couldn't have happened. They were all doomed, right from the start. It wasn't just Jimmy's actions (Although they significantly influenced the outcome), and it sure as hell wasn't Curly's inaction. It was Pony Express. I think something that a lot of people get mixed up in their interpretations of Curly is that he's not us, and we're not supposed to be him. Constantly projecting your own fears and experiences onto him to sway your interpretation of his words takes away from the already written-in-stone character he is. You saying "He didn't mean it" when talking about Curly saying he cares about Anya is not only incorrect, but it's YOUR projection onto a character that is already extremely upfront and honest about his intentions and kind personality. He is not malicious, evil, cruel, selfish or misogynistic, so saying that because you interpreted his words to be half-truths or him lying through his teeth to Anya and that his kindness is fake is literally obstructing his character.
Everyone wants them both to be perfect examples of victims and refuses to understand or even believe Curly's situation. Curly DID fail Anya but not for the reason everyone thinks he did.
They're both victims to the same man, they both believe in the best of people (although to their own detriment in a way) they want to find peace, and fulfilment in their career and life. They're so alike in such delicate and intimate ways, that trying to constantly paint Curly as this great, horrible oppressor over her does way more harm than good.
Curly's character is painfully obvious, very very upfront and honest. He is kind, constantly weighed down by guilt and anxiety about his future and career and is being abused by his so-called friend and the company he's working himself to death for that he absolutely hates that just discarded him like he was nothing. Like a lame horse.
Thank you so much to the Mouthwashing Mania Discord server for helping me with this thread! Specifically Mogs for their amazing analysis on Capitalism which can be found here!
Thank you for reaching the end of the thread, please don't be scared to share your thoughts in the tags or in my inbox, I'd love to hear them! good job! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡
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weed-cat · 8 months ago
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like these articles that come out are the last-ditch efforts of people who are used to getting away with things by putting on a show of how innocent and defenseless they are. this is the same mechanism as a privileged person antagonizing a marginalized person and then calling the police and crying and pretending that they're scared when there's any threat of retaliation or pushback. the consequences of their actions were more dramatic than they wanted them to be, so the logical next step for these people is work the crowd for pity that they know they're likely to be granted because of their privilege. the way that the internet enables extreme mob mentality and anonymous threats is a big problem, but that problem is not that you can't reliably racially target people without accountability anymore.
i will never feel bad for white people who get filmed being racist and go viral and two years later they release a crying pissing buzzfeed article about how they have PTSD and they're still in hiding or what fucking ever. you live in a society and the people in that society have the right to decide that they hate you for being a piece of shit. 'my life is ruined i can't find a job or go on social media' okay lol. do you want to talk about how many POC's lives are destroyed or ended because they're a victim of racism, or would you rather keep talking about how you can't find another high-paying corporate job because you were called out for being a perpetrator.
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keferon · 1 month ago
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Picking up from the end of The Blurr Chapter – Swerve has a bad case of survivor's guilt
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He's been to another planet.  How can he have been to another planet, when he didn't even know it existed? 
Swerve can't stop thinking about it as he wanders aimlessly out of the medibay.
He's been to another planet.  He has been to another planet.  To another planet.
He must have been.  Because he knows Jazz.  And Jazz is real.  And if Jazz is real….
Swerve's spiral of thoughts screech to a halt.  Because if Jazz is real….
The idea alone is enough to send him careening back through the hallways towards where he had abandoned Jazz and Prowl moments earlier.
"JAZZ!"  Swerve shouts as soon as he has eyes on the duo.
"Hey," Jazz says, smiling casually as Swerve skids to a halt in front of him.  "What's the rush?  Where'd you run off to?"
"Never mind that," Swerve says urgently. "Earth, you know where it is?  You're from there?  It's real?"
"Yes.  Earth's real.  My home planet.  I—"
"The Mecha program--" Swerve cuts across whatever Jazz was about to say.  "That was real too?"
"Yes.  I…are you sure I don't know you?"  Jazz asks.
"Blurr," Swerve blurts out, swallowing back the acrid fuel trying to rise up his intake.  "Was there a Blurr associated with the program? Did you know him?"
"Are you kidding me?  Blurr was the program.  Or at least that's what they wanted everyone to believe.  Face plastered on posters and billboards and merchandise.  Fastest man alive, all that.  Everyone on Earth knows of Blurr.  Doubt anyone really knew the man though, if you follow me, not really the friendly type.  Why're you wondering?  And how do you even—"
Swerve doesn't here the rest of Jazz's question.  Doesn't even really see Jazz and Prowl standing in front of him anymore.  Because….
"Oh," he groans.
Oh.
Blurr is real (was real, because he was dying, must be dead by now).
It was all real.
And Swerve left him there, dying.  Did nothing.  He had done nothing but stand there and talk at the man as he was dying.  And then left before Blurr could ask him the question he wanted to know the answer to.  A dying man's last request, not just any man's – Blurr's – last request, and Swerve had ignored him.  Swerve's last words to Blurr, the last words he'd likely ever heard had been that it wasn't real.
And maybe it hadn't been for Swerve, but for Blurr it had been very real.
The man had been dying.  How much must his words have hurt on top of all the injuries Blurr had already sustained?  Even if he hadn't known any better.  Even though Swerve wouldn't have been able to do anything even if he'd tried.  His hand had gone straight through Blurr's when he tried to reach out.
"You know that explains, but doesn't excuse you."
His own words to Blurr echo back across his mind.  He might be able to explain his action or lack thereof, but does it excuse it?  No.
Would he, could he, should he have done something different?  If he had called for a medic earlier?  If he could have stopped Blurr from running into the building that last time?  If he could have somehow pulled the man from the wreckage?  If he had installed more safety measures to Blurr's mech – measures he knew it was lacking in favor of looks and speed?
Or if he hadn't…if he hadn't left Blurr?  Would Blurr have made it back if Swerve had stayed with him?
Because Swerve remembers what Blurr had admitted just before his own words – that he had a hard time remembering.  And he'd seen Blurr's confidence as they worked together – Swerve marking the map and giving directions and Blurr pulling people out.  But without the map, and without Swerve to give directions….
Had Blurr stumbled, lost that confidence on his own?  Had he strayed, unable to remember Swerve's hasty set of directions that he'd so frantically been repeating?  Had that made him just a fraction too slow?
Would Blurr have been fast enough had they stayed together?  Swerve can almost believe he would have been.
But no, the man had to choose that moment to prove that Blurr was every bit the hero he was sold to be, and that Swerve had imagined when he stared at the posters.
Originally, he had hated Blurr for constantly having an entourage at his beck and call.  For constantly demanding people follow him around and help him and never even caring about something as basic as a name.  Had hated when Swindle bailed and Blurr had turned and enlisted him into going back into the building.
But now, now he hates more that Blurr hadn't asked for his help when he needed it.  Hates that the man had left Swerve behind.  Hates that his life had mattered more than Blurr's own – that Swerve's guaranteed survival might have cost Blurr any chance at his.  Hates that he knows now that his going would have cost nothing, that he would have survived regardless.
Fuck.
He was a coward.  He left Blurr.  First to run back into the building alone.  And then to die alone.
Fuck.
Swerve doesn't even know for sure that the man did die.  Has no idea what happened to him.  Because he left.
He needs to know.  Because he owes his memory of the man that much.  Because it turns out that for all he had thought Blurr an aft, he could never completely stop caring about the man.
Swerve squeezes his optics shut, ignoring the prick of coolant at the corners of his lids, and concentrates.  Concentrates harder than anything he's ever concentrated on before.  He's been to Earth.  Had manifested himself on a planet he didn't even know existed.  If he could do it by accident, he ought to be able to do it again intentionally.
Get back to Earth.  Find out what happened to Blurr.  That's all that matters. 
Swerve feels his hand shaking and clenches them into fists.
Get back to Earth.  Find Blurr.  Get back.
He sways slightly, pressure building across his helm.
"…erve…swerve.  Swerve.  SWERVE!"  Jazz's shout breaks through his concentration and Swerve watches as the faint, flickering projection of his human form right in front of him fades back to nothing.
Useless.  All that effort and concentration for something barely tangible that hadn't even managed to reach beyond himself, Jazz, Prowl, and this hallway.  He's never making it back to Earth.  He's never going to know.  He needs to know.  Needs to get back to Earth.
"You alright, Swerve?" Jazz is asking, looking worried.  Swerve wonders how long he's been standing there, silent in front of the others while they have no idea what's been going through his processor.
"You are Swerve, right?" Jazz asks as a follow-up.
"Yes," Swerve says, "Yes, I'm Swerve.  That's how you know me, how I know you.  And I need to get to Earth, now.  It's an emergency.  Please.  Please, Jazz."
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(Credits: The "You know that explains, but doesn't excuse you." line belongs to Keferon from their writing in the Blurr chapter.)
G O D D A M N ANON. WHO ARE YOU SHARE YOUR GEO LOCATION I JUST NEED TO TALK /J
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she-who-paints-with-fire · 4 months ago
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KING'S FALL
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Monarch pilots knew missiles well. The small, the medium, the large; the heat-seeking, the antiradiation, the radar locking; the agile, the powerful, the arcing.
Monarch pilots knew missiles very well. It was their domain.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING]
Not all kings could control their subjects.
[INCOMING MISSILE!]
Dawn Always Comes went into a steep dive; Lux strained against a force several times stronger than gravity and felt her mech strain with her. Her knuckles were white around the controls as her thumb pressed down the button for the first stage countermeasures.
[CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE]
Twenty thousand metres, falling at 600 metres per second and increasing. Slivers of metal exploded from small boxes in her mech, obscuring her back in a haze of metallic film.
[RADAR LOCK BROKEN]
Respite. She kept diving, just in case—
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
—that happened. 670 metres per second and increasing. Eighteen thousand metres above sea level.
[PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE]
1000 metres and closing. Lux knew that instinctively.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE / CHAFF FLARE]
Dawn Always Comes screamed warnings at Lux as she kept diving, jinking left and right all the while in an effort to find some sort of space or measure of safety. 730 metres per second and falling. Sixteen thousand metres above sea level. The air was growing thicker as she shot downwards, meaning the missiles following her would need to expend more fuel to keep up and retarget. Her fuel, on the other hand, was functionally infinite.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [PROXIMITY ALERT - MISSILE]
Fifteen thousand metres. Her pursuer had fired more ordnance. The lock-on warning tone howled in Lux's ear as she did her best to evade while her subjectivity suite screamed warnings directly into her mind. Her thumb pressed down the button for her countermeasures again.
As slivers of metal and thousand-degree magnesium flares shot away from her back, she felt a momentary searing heat, then a wash of fire as a missile detonated too close. Instinctively she flinched away, only to feel another missile detonate too close again, sending small electric shocks rippling across her frame.
The feeling jolted her brain, made something stand out over the haze of warnings. Gandiva. She was being shot at with Gandiva missiles.
[PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Reality smashed back into her with the warning tone of ten thousand metres. 810 metres per second and falling. No time to think about how the hell her opponent, a small-time pirate lord Union wanted dethroned, had gotten their hands on mainstay BELLA CIAO weaponry. Only time to react.
Nine thousand metres. She kept moving, dodging back and forth, trying to evade whatever she could.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
In her mind she weighed a choice. It was clear she couldn't outrun the missiles, even as she closed in on Mach 3, and the countermeasures hadn't worked the second time. Her Javelin rockets and Avenger mini-missiles could function as an ad-hoc point defense, but to fire them she would need to turn around, bleeding away speed—and while yes, speed wasn't going to win this fight, it did give her time and time gave her options, which was something she was sorely lacking.
Eight thousand metres. 920 metres per second.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Seven thousand metres. 930 metres per second. As seconds passed by so did distance. Distance gave time. Time gave options. She was running out of all three.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Six thousand metres. 940 metres per second. Her thumb hovered over the countermeasures. She could feel herself pushing past the redline; the subjectivity suite that linked her neurons to her mech made it feel like her heart was straining to keep up.
[RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE! INCOMING MISSILE!]
Five thousand metres. 950 metres per second.
[ALTITUDE! ALTITUDE!] [RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY WARNING - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Four thousand metres. 950 metres per second.
[ALTITUDE! ALTITUDE!] [RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY ALERT - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Three thousand metres. 950 metres per second. Lux braced for the force of gravity on her to multiply even further.
[ALTITUDE! ALTITUDE!] [RADAR LOCK WARNING] [PROXIMITY ALERT - MISSILE] [INCOMING MISSILE!] [INCOMING MISSILE!]
Two thousand metres. 950 metres per second. This was insanity under the best of circumstances—suicide under the worst. Bleeding off nearly a thousand metres per second of speed in less than a second was near impossible.
[PULL UP! PULL UP!]
Lux strained as hard as she could to level out before throwing herself around and firing every micromissile she had at the incoming ordnance. Her body felt like it was being crushed into paste as her momentum fought against the thrusters on her back and lost—900 metres per second, 700 metres per second, 500 metres per second, 400 metres per second, 100 metres per second. It made her ill. Her bones howled, her organs screamed, even with the interia cushioning provided by the Monarch—had she not had that cushion she would have been emulsified. Her micromissiles blazed away, seeking out the incoming missiles and detonating them prematurely a mere 100 metres away. Slivers of metal and white-hot flares shot out from her metal back, [RADAR LOCK BROKEN] finally freeing her from the enemy targeting lock, and [SCAN COMPLETE] her IFF system tagged the enemy mech as a Monarch named Dark Sky Stalker as it silhouetted itself against the setting moon.
Dark Sky Stalker, the personal mech of the pirate lord Lux was hunting.
[TARGET LOCKED]
[SHARANGA MISSILES ARMED]
[GANDIVA MISSILES ARMED]
[JAVELIN ROCKETS RELOADING]
[AVENGER MISSILES RELOADING]
She pressed the trigger, bore witness to a hundred shooting stars, and then the light of dawn.
[KILL CONFIRMED. NO FURTHER TARGETS. WELL DONE, LANCER.]
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago
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The Gray Woman 1
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Lloyd Hansen
Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)
Note: To those who didn't help me resist this beast, I blame you.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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"Five thousand." The man slaps his card down and flicks it through the slot of the plastic window.
"Five thousand," you repeat.
"In cash. Hundreds, sweetheart. Oh, actually, do about five hundred in ones," he winks.
You don't humour him by reacting. Your skin crawls nonetheless. The implication of the last part of his request is clear. You merely stare back at him. He's not unusual. Executives strut in all the time with their demands. It's never a request, no please, no thank you. They only tell you what to do.
"Yes, sir. I would need your ID," you take his card from the counter and feel the embossed letters on the matte black plastic.
He scoffs, "my ID? I gave you my damn card."
You don't flinch. Not for him. You've worked this desk long enough not to even feel his anger. He's just another spoiled brat in an overpriced suit. The metropolitan bank is an ocean swimming with the likes of him; hair slicked with smelly pomade, feet bedecked in tacky designer loafers, and jackets lined with silk. You couldn't pick him out of a batch of your usual clientele.
"It is procedure, sir. For security. We must confirm your identity and make note of the large transaction--"
"Large transaction? It's pennies," he scoffs.
"Sir, I'm only following protocol. For your safety." You insist.
He snarls as you remain placid. Your lack of reaction doesn't please him. He jabs his finger onto the marble ledge on the other side of the plastic window. "Manager. Now." He pokes again. "Get me your manager."
"Yes, sir, a moment," you slide forward in the chair and step onto the lower bar of the tall legs.
"While you're at it, why don't you crack a smile?" He snipes.
You climb down without response, his card still in hand, and turn to find Veronique. You've been told to do so many a time. You don't give in. It's not that you don't smile, you just prefer to have a reason for that. You're not grim by any measure, just reserved. You don't believe in exhuberance.
As you cross the floor, you look down at the card in your hand. You can just make out the plastic letters; Lloyd M. Hansen. The name might be familiar, you may have even helped him before, but you can't recall.
You long-legged supervisor with her auburn red hair, waved to compliment her long oval face, stands with Gianni, giggling at the Account Manager as he postures. You approach and steel yourself for the interaction. She doesn't notice you as you stand right by her elbow.
You clear your throat, "Excuse me."
"Oh, pardon me, Gianni," she peers over at you, "what is it, dear?"
"A customer is unhappy. He does not want to show his ID." You say.
"Oh, gosh, forgive me, Gianni," she looks back to the manager and preens. "Gotta make sure everyone's happy, don't I?" She spins and nudges you away from the man in his pin-striped arrogance. She lowers her voice as she stomps in her heels, "do I have to do everything around here?"
"I tried--"
"Zip it," she warns and looks ahead. "Bonjour, Mr. Hansen, comment ca va?" She puts her on her faux French accent.
Your chest hollows out. Of course, she would know him. You already know how this goes.
"Well, Ronnie, this pinch-faced brat you got working for you won't give me my money," he crosses his arms and leans them against the ledge. Brat? You're probably not that much younger than him, and likely more mature.
"Oh, my, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, monsieur," she trills and rears on you, "go get his money."
You blink, "yes, ma'am."
Her lip curls slightly. She doesn't like that. It makes her feel old. It's as much rebellion as you have in you. Subtlety always does better.
You turn and go to the safe. You put the bills through the counting machine, taking your time, then return to your desk. As you approach, Veronique lets out another of her high-pitched giggles.
The man on the other side, Hansen, stands straight, his arms still folded, and coughs. It's nothing in his throat, you know what it is. You push his card through the slot then climb up calmly into your chair.
You count the bills by hand as Veronique hovers like a hawk. You record the withdrawal as you pause.
"Once again, Monsieur Hansen, we apologise," she fawns, "it is only that she did not recognise you." She lowers her voice and leans into the window, hiding her mouth even though you can obviously hear her, "we think her hearing is going a bit."
You continue to count and state the total evenly as you slide it under the window, "five thousand, sir."
"Great," he checks his watch, "only took ten minutes out of my day to do what could be done in ten seconds."
He clamps his hand over the money and shakes his head. You close out of his account as Veronique lingers.
"I will be sure this does not happen again," she avows. "I hope you have a wonderful day."
He grumbles and says nothing else. He catches your gaze and his eyes narrow. You calmly reach for your pen and turn back to your computer. The next client steps forward and blocks him out.
"How can I help you today?" You ask, moving onto the next without another thought. It's just another day. Always the same. Good and bad.
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