#microchip gun

[fusionsprunt]

me when my meteor-powered robot gf attempts to murder me 😳😳

[object-vault-9]

Week 117

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[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #13

April 5-12 2024

President Biden announced the cancellation of a student loan debt for a further 277,000 Americans. This brings the number of a Americans who had their debt canceled by the Biden administration through different means since the Supreme Court struck down Biden's first place in 2023 to 4.3 million and a total of $153 billion of debt canceled so far. Most of these borrowers were a part of the President's SAVE Plan, a debt repayment program with 8 million enrollees, over 4 million of whom don't have to make monthly repayments and are still on the path to debt forgiveness.

President Biden announced a plan that would cancel student loan debt for 4 million borrowers and bring debt relief to 30 million Americans The plan takes steps like making automatic debt forgiveness through the public service forgiveness so qualified borrowers who don't know to apply will have their debts forgiven. The plan will wipe out the interest on the debt of 23 million Americans. President Biden touted how the plan will help black and Latino borrowers the most who carry the heavily debt burdens. The plan is expected to go into effect this fall ahead of the election.

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced the closing of the so-called gun show loophole. For years people selling guns outside of traditional stores, such as at gun shows and in the 21st century over the internet have not been required to preform a background check to see if buyers are legally allowed to own a fire arm. Now all sellers of guns, even over the internet, are required to be licensed and preform a background check. This is the largest single expansion of the background check system since its creation.

The EPA published the first ever regulations on PFAS, known as forever chemicals, in drinking water. The new rules would reduce PFAS exposure for 100 million people according to the EPA. The Biden Administration announced along side the EPA regulations it would make available $1 billion dollars for state and local water treatment to help test for and filter out PFAS in line with the new rule. This marks the first time since 1996 that the EPA has passed a drinking water rule for new contaminants.

The Department of Commerce announced a deal with microchip giant TSMC to bring billions in investment and manufacturing to Arizona. The US makes only about 10% of the world's microchips and none of the most advanced chips. Under the CHIPS and Science Act the Biden Administration hopes to expand America's high-tech manufacturing so that 20% of advanced chips are made in America. TSMC makes about 90% of the world's advanced chips. The deal which sees a $6.6 billion dollar grant from the US government in exchange for $65 billion worth of investment by TSMC in 3 high tech manufacturing facilities in Arizona, the first of which will open next year. This represents the single largest foreign investment in Arizona's history and will bring thousands of new jobs to the state and boost America's microchip manufacturing.

The EPA finalized rules strengthening clean air standards around chemical plants. The new rule will lower the risk of cancer in communities near chemical plants by 96% and eliminate 6,200 tons of toxic air pollution each year. The rules target two dangerous cancer causing chemicals, ethylene oxide and chloroprene, the rule will reduce emissions of these chemicals by 80%.

the Department of the Interior announced it had beaten the Biden Administration goals when it comes to new clean energy projects. The Department has now permitted more than 25 gigawatts of clean energy projects on public lands, surpass the Administrations goal for 2025 already. These solar, wind, and hydro projects will power 12 million American homes with totally green power. Currently 10 gigawatts of clean energy are currently being generated on public lands, powering more than 5 million homes across the West. 

The Department of Transportation announced $830 million to support local communities in becoming more climate resilient. The money will go to 80 projects across 37 states, DC, and the US Virgin Islands The projects will help local Infrastructure better stand up to extreme weather causes by climate change.

The Senate confirmed Susan Bazis, Robert White, and Ann Marie McIff Allen to lifetime federal judgeships in Nebraska, Michigan, and Utah respectively. This brings the total number of judges appointed by President Biden to 193

[in1-nutshell]

Sunstreakers Toddler Buddy being turned into a Cybertronian?And perhaps the establish a creator-creation bond?

Got to think of a new name for Toddler Buddy...Hope you enjoy!

Hope you enjoy!

Sunstreaker's Human toddler turn Bot

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Human/ Cybertronian reader

IDW/G1

It was a case of ‘wrong place at the wrong time’.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had to leave for patrol that morning, leaving Buddy at the base.

They were on break from school and was sleeping in.

Sunstreaker himself would have loved to get in another hour of sleep, but duty calls.

Buddy was left in the care of most of the bots in the base.

The more optics looking after them the better right?

…Right?

Out on patrol… Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are driving down the empty road. Sunstreaker: “How much longer until we can go back?” Sideswipe: “Just a couple more miles Sunny.” Sunstreaker grumbles. Sideswipe: “Don’t get your tailpipe twisted. We’ll be back and helping Buddy color their books before you know it.” BEEP! BEEP! The com line was sounding off. The twins both pick up the call. Sideswipe: “This is Sideswipe, what’s—” CRASH! Smokescreen: “Bluestreak get them out of there! Oh! You guys answered.” Sunstreaker: “Smokescreen what’s going on? Is Buddy all right?” SCREECH! Smokescreen: “Umm, okay is subjective right now…” Sunstreaker: “I am only going to repeat this one more time. What is GOING ON!?” Sideswipe: “Geez Sunny let the mech speak. Go on Smokes.” Smokescreen: “I—well they—You know what I think its better if you guys came in an—SCRAP! BLUESTREAK GRAB THEM BEFORE THEY GET OUT THE DOOR! WHAT DO YOU MENA THEY’RE GONE!” BLITZ! The line went dead. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sharply turn around and burn rubber to get to the base.

By the time the twins made it to the base, there were already search parties looking around for Buddy.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe get the summary from Prowl and Jazz.

Laserbeak had entered in the base not too long after they had gone out and fired a strange looking gun blindly before retreating.

The beam had hit Buddy turning them into a sparkling.

Yes, Sunstreaker nearly passed out at the news, but Sideswipe hoisted him back to his pedes as the other mechs continued.

Buddy was very scared and confused at first, before they found out how much easier it was to inerct with everyone as a bot.

Bluestreak and Smokescreen had done a good job in making sure Buddy was comfortable and held their new servos when things got a bit scary for them.

Buddy kept on asking where Sunstreaker was and that they wanted him to see them like this.

Cue the sparkling chase throughout the entire base before they slipped into a vent that lead to the outside world.

Sunstreaker: “Well, do we know where they are now?” Prowl pulls up a data pad: “We are getting the information now. Wheeljack had the idea of microchipping Buddy before they learned how to walk.” Sideswipe and Sunstreaker: “They couldn’t walk!” Jazz: “Like we said before, they were turned into a sparkling, a NEW sparkling. The little thing could barely walk without falling on their face.” Sunstreaker feels increasing stress. PING! Prowl: “The locztion is set for…” Prowl pauses before showing the data pad to Jazz. The twin get a bad feeling after swings both mech’ door wings stiffen. Sunstreaker: “Well!? Where’s my sparkling!?” Jazz and Prowl look at each other for a minute before nodding. Prowl starts walking away calling several bots to come and follow him. Jazz: “Okay fellas, you might wanna sit down for this.” Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sit down. Jazz: “…Buddy’s location was last seen outside Decepticon HQ.” THUD! Sunstreaker passes out and lands on his face with a sick looking Sideswipe.

With Buddy…

Buddy was lost for a while now.

All they wanted to do was show Sunstreaker their new frame, and now they couldn’t even remember the way back home.

They were by the shoreline when something started flying around.

For a split-second Buddy thought the planes were Decepticon’s they had seen on Teletran-One’s screens.

Buddy’s optics widen as well as their smile seeing the familiar red plane land in front of them. Buddy: “Mr. Powerglide!” Powerglide runs up and scoops them up in a hug. Powerglide: “Geez kiddo! You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you?” Buddy nods feeling bad about running off. Powerglide: “Lets get you home. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are worried sick for ya.” Buddy perks up a bit when the name of the yellow mech is dropped. Buddy: “Okay!” Powerglide: “And AWAY we go!”

All the bots sighed in relief hearing that Powerglide had found Buddy safe and sound.

Today’s events could have gone much worse if the Decepticons had found out about Buddy’s whereabouts.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe where taken into a different room before they could meet Buddy.

Mainly because Sunsreaker kept on pulling ‘Prowl’s’ on every surface he could turn over.

Prowl and Jazz accompany the sparkling to the room.

The door opens. The twins both stand up at the sound of the door opening. Sunstreaker: “Any sign of them? Are they okay!” Sideswipe notices a small frame behind Jazz’s pedes. He nugdes his twin’s arm and points to Jazz’s pedes. Sunstreaker pauses. Sunstreaker: “Buddy?” The sparkling’s helm pops from Jazz’s side. They smile widely. Buddy: “Sunny!” Sunstreaker falls to his knees as Buddy leaps into his arms. Sunstreaker just holds them tightly as they ramble on about their frame and how cool they look.

The answer of how to get Buddy back to normal is still unknown given the machine used to turn Buddy Cybertronian was in Decpticon hands.

For now Buddy was Cybertronian until further notice.

Buddy did miss being able to hide in certain places, but on the bright side they were much stronger and durable.

Just like Sunstreaker!

Speaking of the yellow mech, it takes a long time for anyone to convince him to leave the room without Buddy in his arms or nearby.

He makes sure that Buddy has a shiny finish and buffed frame.

His spark melted a bit when they wanted their paintjob to have the same yellow as his.

It is much easier to handle Buddy being much bigger and the same species, not that Sunstreaker would ever admit it out loud.

Honestly as long as Buddy is safe and happy, the mech couldn’t care what species they were.

[ink-flavored]

👽100 Question Sci-Fi Worldbuilding Ask Game🚀

Do you have a sci-fi world? Does it have aliens, robots, and/or apocalypses? Do you want to talk about it for way too long? Look no further than this ask game to give you an excuse! Remember to send an ask to the person you reblog it from to make sure everyone gets to play!

📅 How far in the future is your WIP set? Is it a “near” or “distant” future?

🌍 What’s the state of the Earth in your WIP? Basically the same? Better or worse? Does it even exist at all?

🏥What’s the state of healthcare technology in your WIP? Are diseases like cancer obsolete, or is a cure still far off?

♿What’s the state of assistive technology in your WIP? How are people with disabilities managing their conditions?

💅What’s the state of cosmetic technology in your WIP? Are people getting painless tattoos in 15 minutes, or are they still box-dyeing their hair in the sink?

🔋What’s the state of energy technology in your WIP? Is solar old news, or still being fought for?

🚗What’s the state of transportation technology in your WIP? Are there hundreds of mass-market spaceships, or are cars still stuck on the ground?

📱What’s the state of communication technology in your WIP? Do people communicate through their microchipped brains, or is a cell phone still the best way to get a hold of someone?

🏢What’s the state of architectural technology in your WIP? Are there cities floating in the sky, or are houses still made of bricks and steel?

🧑‍🌾What’s the state of agricultural technology in your WIP? Can any plant be grown to excess anywhere in the galaxy, or are farms still beholden to nature?

🎭What’s the state of entertainment technology in your WIP? Are hologram TV shows the best way to spend a Friday night, or is it still Netflix and Chill?

🪛What’s the state of manufacturing technology in your WIP? How are things being produced?

🪖What’s the state of military technology in your WIP? Are armored giant robots fighting wars, or still regular people with guns?

🤔What kind of technology is still being developed in your WIP? What’s something they’re still trying to figure out?

💼What sorts of jobs exist in your WIP that don’t exist currently?

🤷Are there any jobs that seem obsolete, but still exist? Why are they still around?

🏈Have any new sports or games been invented with the advancement of technology? What are they?

💵Is currency different in your WIP? Is it all digital, or does physical money still play a role?

✊What is the social climate of your setting? Has society progressed towards equality or regressed? Has it stayed mostly the same?

😠What’s happening politically in your setting? Are tensions brewing, a cold war threatening to go hot? Has there been peace for generations?

🌌Are humans living amongst the stars in your setting? Are they somewhere other than on Earth?

🚀Did humanity abandon Earth for other planets? Why?

👋Were there any humans left behind on Earth, while the rest disappeared into the stars? What happened to them?

❌Does humanity have any sort of “Prime Directive” à la Star Trek – are there limits about what they can do when they discover a new planet (inhabited or not)? If not, why not?

⛳How many planet settlements do humans have across the galaxy? What’s the biggest non-Earth human stronghold?

🏜️How many of humanity’s settlements on other planets have been abandoned? Why?

💰Who’s funding these settlements? Why? What are they for?

😟Do people have mixed feelings about colonizing space? Are there movements to stop humanity’s expansion?

💡Has humanity invented faster-than-light travel? If not, are they working on it?

🌱Has humanity invented the technology necessary to terraform planets? If not, are they working on it?

🧊Has humanity invented “cryosleep” or some way of preserving the body indefinitely? If not, are they working on it?

🛰️Is there a culture among humans who were born on space-stations or ships and don’t truly belong to a planet? How do “planet-born” humans treat them?

☄️Are there humans who travel from station to station, never settling down on a single planet and living amongst the stars? How do others treat them for living this way?

😎Are there any famous (or infamous) planets known for a particular cultural or material export? What is it? Are the planet’s residents annoyed or proud of this notoriety?

👽Have humans made first contact with an alien species? How did it go? If not, is there a possibility they ever will?

🖖Did the aliens reach out to humanity first? Why?

👾How many different kinds of aliens are there in your WIP? Describe them!

🔬How technologically advanced are the aliens in your WIP? Are they at the same level as humans? Far below or above them?

🧬How different are the aliens, biologically, from humans in your WIP? Are they bonding over shared mammalian traits or unable to comprehend each other?

🧍If the aliens and humans are very biologically different, how do they exist in the same area together? Can they?

🗣️How do aliens and humans communicate with each other? Can they?

💭What do the aliens think of humanity? Are they friendly, indifferent, or hostile? What does humanity think of their alien neighbors?

🌕What planet(s) do the aliens come from? How different is it from Earth?

🗺️Do the aliens have settlements on other planets? How many?

⚔️Have the aliens and humanity ever fought over the right to settle a planet? Who won?

🔁Do alien politics influence humanity’s political sphere? In what ways?

🏠Do aliens and humans live together, or does each keep to their own kind? Why?

🤫Are the aliens’ cultural customs something they explain and share openly with humanity, or keep to themselves? Have any humans been invited into the fold?

😲Are there any human customs that the aliens find strange, offensive, gross, or confusing? Which ones?

🛸Are there any stereotypes about the aliens that humans believe? Vice versa?

🤝Are human/alien friendships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

💋Are human/alien sexual relationships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

💒Are human/alien romantic relationships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦Are human/alien families normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

👶Is it biologically possible for humans and (any of the species of) aliens to reproduce?

✨Is there an entire galactic society of all aliens in the galaxy, or are the different species largely separate?

💔Are there people, groups, or governments working to change the sociopolitical relationship between humans and aliens, for better or worse?

🤖Has synthetic life been created in your WIP? Robots/androids/etc. that can think and feel like sapient living creatures? If not, is there a possibility it ever will be?

🔨What are synthetic lifeforms made of? How are they powered?

🤩What do synthetic lifeforms look like? Describe them!

🧪Was synthetic life invented on purpose or by accident? How did it happen?

⚙️Were the synthetic lifeforms intended for a specific purpose? What was it? Do they still fulfill this purpose, or reject it?

🧐What do synthetic lifeforms think of humanity (and/or aliens)? Are they friendly, indifferent, or hostile? What do humans (and/or aliens) think about this new form of life?

🟰How are synthetic lifeforms treated, in comparison to humans (and/or aliens)? Are they given the same rights and respect as a biological organism?

🏭How are synthetic lifeforms made? Are they mass-produced? Was there a set number built, never to increase?

⛓️‍💥If a synthetic lifeform gets damaged, how do they get the damage repaired?

💄Are there cosmetic options synthetic lifeforms use to spruce themselves up? What kinds?

➕Are there “upgrades” or optional parts that the synthetic lifeforms can get installed if they want? What kinds?

⚠️Are there any unique dangers that synthetic lifeforms face that biological organisms don’t?

💀Can synthetic lifeforms ever die? Do many of them think about death?

🍼How do synthetic lifeforms feel about being created out of parts, like an object, instead of “born”?

😢Are there synthetic lifeforms that wish they were biological organisms instead? Are there humans (and/or aliens) that wish they were synthetic?

🫂Are biological/synthetic friendships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

❤️‍🔥Are biological/synthetic sexual relationships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

🥰Are biological/synthetic romantic relationships normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

💕Are biological/synthetic families normal or disgraceful? From one or both sides?

🪤Are there people, groups, or governments working to change the sociopolitical relationship between biological and synthetic lifeforms, for better or worse?

🐒Has humanity evolved past the point where we would recognize ourselves? Does that species still call itself “human”?

😵Is humanity, as we think of it today, extinct? What happened?

🔭Are there still humans out there somewhere, even if they’re all presumed dead?

❓What took humanity’s place on Earth, if anything?

🗽Do cultural artifacts of human society remain?

📚Is the abandoned society on Earth a site of study or mystery?

🛤️What does society on Earth look like without humans? Is there one?

0️⃣Has the human population been devastated to almost nothing? What happened?

🤏What does society look like with only a fraction of the humans that used to exist in it?

💥Did the Earth go through some kind of apocalyptic disaster? What was it?

⛺How does humanity exist on Earth after the apocalypse? Where do they live?

🚰Are resources scarce? How do people survive?

🐣How many generations have passed since the apocalypse?

😷Is the post-apocalyptic Earth toxic to live on, or just dangerous?

🖥️How far did humanity get, technologically, before the apocalypse? What remnants of that technology are left?

🩻Are people trying to build humanity back up to what it used to be? Are they trying to pave a new way forward?

📖Is history already repeating itself on the post-apocalyptic Earth? Are humans already making the same mistakes that got them here in the first place?

💐Are people kinder on the post-apocalyptic Earth? Are people more willing to cherish what life still exists instead of squandering it?

🌠Do people have hope that humanity will survive? Are they convinced humanity is doomed?

🙅Were there people completely untouched by the apocalypse? How?

👓Was humanity able to see the apocalypse coming and prepare? Did it help?

🏞️Is there anyone alive who remembers what the Earth was like before the apocalypse? Does anyone believe them?

🃏Wild card! Mention anything else about your WIP that you want!

[lowkeyrobin]

can you do a gally x reader where its like a lovers to enemies to lovers??? thanksss 🫶

thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoyed bc this genuinley rotted my brain bc I spent way too much time overthinking it 💀💀 ; HOLY SHIT POST WRITING ROBIN HERE.... uh I didn't see the first lovers bit I am so sorry 💀 I actually apologize bc idk how to fix it now LMFAO ; also ending is rlly dumb but jsjskdndns ; send tmr requests please 🙏🙏🙏

GALLY ; i don't want to be your enemy anymore

summary ; a little enemies to lovers trope with Gally because why not

warnings ; language, guns, knives, WCKD stuff

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

Being stuck in that peaceful, dystopian Hell with Gally for three years was enough to make you rethink every single life choice that could've probably led you there, which wasn't much considering most of your memory had been erased. But, after escaping the maze, WCKD, fighting against Mother Nature in the Scorch and the Cranks, making it to the Right Arm, raiding a WCKD train, and a no-plan-plan to storm the Last City, you never thought you'd see Gally again, for better or for worse.

You two had never gotten along whatsoever, prior to, or post Thomas entering the Glade.

Gally would always do anything and everything just to piss you off. From the frequent physical fights to dehumanizing and undermining you for whatever reason, it never stopped. You were truly enemies, always out to get each other back or glare at each other from across the entire Glade.

He thought it was dumb for you to be awarded the graciousness of being a Runner, for whatever reason. Builders didn't have a lot going up in the membrane and he just proved it, constantly. But, sometimes you'd do the same, you weren't any better than him, just short-tempered, you supposed.

All those wasted nights sleeping in the Slammer over fighting, all the alcohol wasted due to throwing it all over each other. You both had a fire burning in your hearts to just kill each other, but in a way, it was fun. It was fun to piss each other off and get a reaction, and to just yell and scream your emotions out at each other. Toxic enemies, perhaps.

Minho though, good Lord. He always had to tease you, his fellow peer, about it.

"Oh, you're so in love with Gally" and "You look at each other with hearts in your eyes." You couldn't go a day without him bringing it up at least twice.

But now, you were trying to get Minho back from WCKD, and that's all that mattered. What did matter was that Gally was fucking alive.

Of fucking course, just your luck.

How he wasn't dead was beyond you, considering you watched Minho impale him with a spear.

You thought for a moment he was working for WCKD, considering he killed a small child last time you saw him, and he and his buddies basically kidnapped you and your friends. But, he took you guys back to some Rebellion setup hideout just outside the city, considering you couldn't get into the walls, now knowing there were microchips in your necks tracking your every move.

You stuck back while Thomas spoke to Lawrence, the guy in charge, turned half-Crank. You didn't want to be anywhere near Gally while he took Thomas down, so you stuck with the others, silently looking for reassurance in each other.

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

The sun sets rather quickly, and you, Newt, and Thomas join Gally into sneaking into the city through a train tunnel. That in itself was its own thing. You don't even know why you agreed to come with them, considering you were being led by Gally, but, alright then.

He takes you three on a little tour of the city, showing you all the bright lights and the building that towered over the rest, WCKD's headquarters.

You're perched on a balcony, looking over at the building from afar. A telescope rests on the ledge of the wall, Thomas looking through it. Gally stands on his left, and then Newt and you on the right.

Newt looks over at you, sensing your discomfort from a mile away. "You okay?"

You nod, arms crossed as you look out into the city.

Thomas looks up and over at you two, telling you to look through the telescope to look into the windows of the building. Apparently, he'd seen something of interest. The blonde steps forward, looking through the lens as Thomas stands next to him.

Gally looks to you, a weird kind of look in his eyes. You shrug, silently asking what he wanted. He mouths a little message that he'll talk later, probably wanting to get back before doing so.

After returning, you find your way onto the rooftop, needing some alone time. You'd forgotten about Gally looking at you entirely, needing to clear your head over seeing him again and being shot at as per usual earlier. The fact WCKD was able to track you was what had you slightly scared. I mean, what if they were able to see you right now, trying to take a breath all alone on the rooftop?

You don't hear Gally sneaking up on you, but when the footsteps become closer and closer, you quickly turn your head back to see him a few feet away. He apologizes for running up on you, seeing the way you quickly turned around in defense mode like you were scared or something.

"I just came out here to talk, about earlier" He explains, sitting down next to you, although making sure to leave some room between the two of you.

"What's to talk about?" You ask, looking up over the walls of the city in front of you.

"I dunno, to apologize, and try to make amends, I guess" He answers with a little snark, "I'm not asking for forgiveness, but if we're gonna work together, I'm not acting like your enemy anymore, okay?"

You take a second to actually look at him, noticing his freshly buzzed hair and his desperately needed growth spurt, mentally and physically. You slowly nod and turn away, looking back up at the walls ahead.

He exhales through his nose, a little frustrated. He wanted an actual truce, knowing you. "Y/n, I'm serious. I'm not bullshitting, I don't wanna be that stupid kid a year ago that had fun fighting and making fun of you, I want to work on the same team. I don't wanna be best friends, but I don't wanna be your enemy either"

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to conjure up a response.

"Yeah, fine"

"...Cool"

"Initiate phase four"

You and Gally await as Newt rounds up all the kids, keeping a close eye on Thomas forcing Teresa to give them intel and directions. Thankfully, she was halfway on your side.

Newt and Thomas send you two off with the children, all under the age of thirteen or so, directing them down to the bottom level of the parking garage where Brenda awaits. You're dressed in the slightly uncomfortable WCKD guard suits, you in the red variation like Newt, Gally in the grey like Thomas.

Once they were safe on the bus with Brenda, the two of you quickly scurried away to get lost in the crowds and hopefully meet back up with Newt and Thomas soon. You make sure your gun has the safety on while in your belt, deciding to work with handguns tonight, while he decides to go for the more bulky, electrical type of gun this night.

Somehow, Gally with a gun was kind of hot, but you'd never admit it aloud.

You power walk down the streets, making and pushing your ways through the crowds, fake patrolling the bottom layer of the WCKD tower, awaiting a message from Thomas. He tries to strike up some small talk as you also await Lawrence to bring the corporation down, since the Rebellion would never be stopped by just a few seventeen and eighteen year olds plus their forty year old father figure friend. Another plus, to properly destroy WCKD wasn't a bad idea, so the idea commenced with a very certain plan.

"Y'know, I didn't expect to see you again, like, if I ever saw you guys again. Not in a rude "I thought you would've died" way, but I didn't take you as one to try and take down the government and shit. You're a tough shank though, I'll give you that, " He speaks, speaking calmly, trying to give you that reassurance once more that he genuinely wasn't trying to start anything.

You nod, "Never thought I'd see you again either, but it's kind of relieving, to be honest. You changed in a good way. A really good way." You lightly smile, giving him a little shoulder nudge. "And don't worry about the past, it doesn't matter anymore, I couldn't care. Just... got a little scary seeing you again I guess" You shrug.

He nods. "Yeah, it's fine. Uhm... fuck, sorry" He says, trying to find the right words, "I'm not saying this like, to try and weird you out or distract you but I feel like to not hate each other anymore, we need to be open-"

"I like you too, if that's what you're getting at." You shrug, stopping in your tracks as he does. "If not, then sorry, kinda jumped to conclusions." You awkwardly chuckle, double checking your safety again.

He nods, "Cool. We'll talk about this later then?"

"Why not now? Under the soon to be burning building?" You joke with a light laugh.

"I missed that laugh" He mumbles

"Hey, hey, calm down now" You chuckle, shoving his shoulder, "We have a mission, here. We're children at war, Gally"

"The mission can wait a moment" He suggests, giving you a look, awaiting approval.

You dramatically roll your eyes with a smile, accepting his move before quickly pulling him in for a little kiss. You dragged him by the strap of his WCKD vest, almost making him fall on his knees for you.

"Now come on, we gotta go find some people to get in formation with and get to Newt and Thomas" You nod sideways, pulling your mask back up.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go"

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

Today on Hobbit-Headcanons:

What would the company of Thorin Oakenshield enjoy about the Modern World?

One of my WIP transports the company to our world shortly before they're supposed to reach Rivendell, and into the apartment of my OFC.

So here is a list of things I think each character would enjoy about the Modern World:

Thorin: Google Maps, Siri (will totally argue with her like she's real), Shows like The Crown, Game of Thrones, but also Bridgerton, Democracy (yes you read that correctly), Rock music

Fili: Birth Control (can finally fuck around without risking the royal lineage), Superhero Movies (has an huuuhe crush on Black Widow), Tinder, Martial Arts, Feminism, Henley shirts to show of his muscles, bars & clubs

Kili : TikTok (LOVES cat videos, Top Content Creator about Archery, 'deep thoughts'/rambling, 'prank my uncle/brother with me', does EVERY challenge, accidental thirsttraps & flustered by the comments), Parkour, Man Buns & (Hipster-) Fashion, LGBTQ+ - Community , karaoke bars, team sports, the zoo

Bofur: modern music (especially pop songs with dirty lyrics), Tumblr (is no. 1 shit-poster), music festivals, arts&crafts blogs, Christopher's Streets Day

Bifur: Google Translate, Modern Medicine, Pain Medication, ASL, RomComs (trust me), helps out in an animal shelter, country music

Bombur: Cooking Shows (has his own Online Show), Kindergarten (he had so many children, the reprieve would be SO appreciated), international foodstuff to try

Dwalin: Guns, MMF, store-bought cookies, sport shows (AGRESSIVE fan for whatever team he randomly picks), Barbecues

Balin: Twitter (the political possibilities!!!), mental healthcare (he's sending the whole line of Durin he had no time for their shit), Spa Days, public schools, classical music

Oin: Modern Medicine (Duh), hearing aids, physiotherapy

Gloin: bitcoins, the stock market, Facebook (posts daily about Gimli)

Dori: hair tutorials, fashion shows, tracking devices (has totally microchipped a drunk Nori at some point)

Nori: hacking, movies with the lovable rogue as the MC (Pirates of the Carribbean, Deadpool etc.), spy movies (duh), the mafia (yes, he becomes a boss within weeks)

Ori: Wikipedia, public libraries, tutorials for EVERYTHING (knitting, cutting your own hair, how to talk to royalty, fancy war cries, you name it), fantasy novels, public schools

Bilbo: Food blogs, the "ignore call"-button, Instagram, university (will mayor in at least three subjects), museums

Gandalf: the Internet as a whole, email/ instant messaging, yard sales, modern weed, museums (has a knack for finding cursed items), adventure movies (after watching Indiana Jones he seriously debated obtaining a whip)

[ballinandcantgetup452]

Terry McGinnis is the only person who can be the next Batman

I don't normally make hard statements like this. I typically hate it when somebody makes hard statements like this, but hear me out.

No prior Batfamily character can be the next Batman. I'll keep it brief and explain why going person by person (obvious headcanon warning)

Dick is definitely a likelier candidate than most. He can cover for Batman if the need ever arises. But I believe that Dick Grayson hates the idea of actually becoming Batman. He can play the role. He was a circus kid and he's got the heart of a theatre kid, he can play the role all day long. But he was the first. He arguably saw Batman at his natural worst. He and Alfred, anyways. I'm going to drop some OP lore to further elaborate. My dad's a pastor. He's a really good pastor. He's a good man, and he may be an ass, but that's because I know him as "dad". For YEARS, people would tell me that I was just like him, and for a long time, I wanted to be him. It's what boys do when their dad is at the very least decent. But, as I got older, I saw the tapestry and saw the flaws. I saw how tired being a pastor made my dad. I saw how much of his life being a pastor was taking up. I would never tell my dad to stop being a pastor, because that's him. That's his calling; and if he was anything else, then he'd be a soulless, husk of a man. But I've seen what being a pastor does to you, and I don't want that. I want to be better than that. Dick Grayson has seen what The Batman does to a person. He's seen Bruce do things that Dick would never do, and the idea of being the next Batman is something that got soured to him. And it definitely doesn't help that that's what a lot of people used to do to him. So yeah, traumadumping aside, Dick would never STAY Batman. Even if he doesn't know it.

I honestly think it's best if Jason stays as far away from the idea of The Batman legacy as possible. Jason's at the best possible spot right now. He's taken his trauma and has turned it into his empowerment. I don't care what Three Jokers says, that's dumb. Joker's an ass, we don't listen to him. ESPECIALLY if he's swapped out his gun for a crowbar and has a no-kill rule, Jason could be Red Hood until he's 90 and it'll be narratively fulfilling.

Tim is one I see get thrown around a lot. However, I believe that The Batman would absolutely DESTROY him and he would be too stubborn to acknowledge it. One common denominator I believe every Robin goes through is the realization of "oh wow, Bruce is not okay" and trying to be better than that. While I do believe that Tim went through that, I also believe that Tim is arrogant enough to believe that he's better than that. Even putting all of the "alternate Tim evil gun toting Batman" futures aside, I think that Tim is obsessive enough as is. Giving him the mantle of The Batman would cause him to obsess even more to be like Bruce thus causing ANOTHER evil gun toting alternate future Batman. Tim is best as Red Robin. An independent agent that can go well with ANY Batman to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Babs is best as Oracle. No I will not be elaborating. If you want her to be Batgirl, then say that she can Batgirl every once and a while but doing it stresses out the microchip in her back.

Steph is best as Spoiler. She backdoored her way into the Batfamily by being competent enough as Spoiler. I honestly wish that she could be like Batwoman and establish herself as Batfamily adjacent and have her own supporting cast and such. If she does have one, then I'm sorry. Cassie is kind of a blind spot.

Sadly, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, and Harper Row are even bigger blindspots of mine. From what I've seen of them, I can't think of any reasons they couldn't be Batman. However, I can't think of any reasons why they especially should be Batman.

Damian Wayne is my personal vote for becoming the next Batman out of everybody pre established. Not for any birthright reasons. That's dumb. Admittedly, DCeased really turned me on to the idea. I think that the idea of Damian being the child raised by Bruce that turned out the best is a really good idea. In retrospect, I guess the idea of birthright is technically why I'm choosing Damian. BUT, understand I'm doing it with the caveat that Damian is fully developed as a person and as a character. That is the END of his arc.

HOWEVER, Terry McGinnis takes the cake for me in terms of Batman successor. This is going off of the idea that he isn't a Bruce clone. I don't know how canon we've made that, but canon is relative, so I'm saying it's not for the sake of argument. Terry is an outsider. He has no baggage with the idea of The Batman. He's just a guy working through some grief with The Batman being used as a vehicle. He doesn't know any of the Bruceisms. He never had to explain to his friends that his dad is crazy and he's sorry he made contingency plans for all of them. Terry McGinnis gets to make Batman his own. And, luckily, he gets to have a fully realized Bruce to guide him along the way. I also think that it opens so much more story potential. It's essentially a soft reboot for The Batman as an idea. Everybody else can be out doing their own thing. But I think this works in the same way that Miguel O'Hara can ALSO be Spider-Man. I believe that every intimate Batfamily member would follow Bruce's footsteps by making Batman an UNHEALTHY obsession. Terry would be different, he'd lead the pack by turning The Batman into something HEALTHY.

Or maybe I don't read enough comics and all my interpretations are super surface level. Let me know. I'm willing to be wrong.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Data Breach

Read on AO3

Word count: 12.8k

Alternatively titled "Lockdown."

CW: Public partial-nudity, references to sex work, Kidnapping, implied trafficking, threats of violence, anxiety/panic, body horror, brief mentions of medical trauma, character being hunted, brief mention of cannibalism, guns, knives

Notes: Naya "Bambi" Walker and Veronica "Bricks" Mason are my characters. Morgan "Sparrow" Voss belongs to @sentientcave.

I'm very excited because this is my first "complete" fic. And I wrote it within my first year of posting fanfiction! Thanks to everyone who has been here with me through it all!

The genetic and cybernetic enhancements that the public took for granted were a drop in the bucket. No one protested the same-day medical procedures for aesthetics and practicality and security. What harm is a microchip to automate one’s home, modified musculature that needed less exercise to maintain? Who was ever going to protest genetically coded locking mechanisms?

Soldier modifications are a violation of human rights. The deployment of those soldiers isn’t, unless they use their enhanced abilities to commit a war crime. But the process of modification, experimental and unregulated, driven by greed, desperation, a cold war that bled and screamed…

In the early days of accelerated genetics, on the heels of the prosthetic revolution, things had been hellish. Rejected limb grafts.    Explosively contagious viral infections previously rare in humans. Incompatible bones and organs and structures drowning experimental groups in their own fluids. Hunting and prey drives that only became apparent on the battlefield.

The deployment of modified soldiers isn’t a violation of human rights. But if even a single civilian is caught in the crossfire, it’s a war crime.

What the governments of the world did to the men and women who served them - and the populations they were supposed to serve - was a flood of destruction that led to international court-martial and proposed executions.

Only proposed though.

Naya, green around the gills from her latest information dive, wonders if maybe those proposals had more merit than she’d initially thought.

The files she found about the modified joint task forces, the Ghost Team JTFs, are more horrifying than anything she’s ever seen. Bone and dental removal, replacement, and additions. Brain implants, deeper and more invasive than most civilian interface units, which go just under the skin. Increased metabolism, shortening of the digestive tract, automatic injectors with stim packs that keep soldiers awake and lucid through unimaginable horrors.

Her hands shake, spilling tea leaves on the counter as she disconnects from her VPN network. She’d stumbled upon the initial files surrounding what had been Task Force 141 days ago, had quickly skimmed and duplicated their contents to read and review on her own time. Those had been bad enough. Reading about a Scottish soldier, shot in the head and brought back only to have his body altered. Another sergeant suspended in a tank as his genetically altered body attempted and failed to process all of the poisons they wanted him resistant to. A lieutenant who’s frontal lobe was hacked through to make room for a larger processor. The Captain captured and tortured and changed for investigating what was happening to his unit…

And that was before the videos.

Finding more information on Ghost Teams is virtually impossible. Official reports, even the ones she breaks into, list the 141 as defunct. Her fellow archivists don’t have any other information, and aren’t willing to help her dive again.

>>>Flower: even if the GTs are still alive >>>Flower: it’s too dangerous >>>Flower: too many powers want them to stay buried >>>Flower: we’ll lose everything if we go digging >>>Bambi: you don’t have any contacts i could ask? >>>Flower: i‘m sorry bambi

There’s more security, when she returns to the original server, too much for her to feel comfortable to try to force her way in. Her bots identify a couple of devices on the network that might be exploitable - a printer, two coffee machines - but she leaves them alone, for now.

Instead, she trawls conspiracy theory forums for any mention of experimental modifications, missing soldiers, and questionable medical equipment shipments. Experience means her bots filter through everything, which saves her more than a few headaches, but also means that she waits hours before a possible hit. And that hit is a dead end.

The hours turn to days before she’s able to find an abandoned, locked forum with deleted answers to heavily coded questions. The last post is seven years old, ostensibly informing community members of upcoming changes to the forum. The veil over the warning of government surveillance is thinner than tissue paper.

It’s the closest thing she has to a lead, so she makes a new post and sets her bots to monitor it.

>>18|\/|48(Guest): GTJTFs producing new 141 units? Leaked production reports, new specs?

She doesn’t expect a response, but maybe an auto-responder will give her a clue of where to look next. So it’s jarring when she gets an encrypted email with a reply from “dimentionspoker@noreply.co,” an hour later.

new units? have info on old units if you need references. let me know.

—

The middle city isn’t the safest, for all that the well-to-dos topside like to pretend that the truly unsavory elements aren’t that close to their picturesque lawns. Naya’s lived here her whole life, though she’s worked above a time or two. Even so, she’s never ventured this close to the freight shafts down to the docks.

The bar she steps into is loud and smells like liquor and motor fluid. It’s dim, and smoky, and she feels eyes on her as she makes her way to the bar. Her interface lights up with pings and an attempted ID and bank chip skim. All they get for their trouble is her least informative ID tag - Bambi.

The bartender, a large bodied person with the simple tag of Engine, operates behind the bar with four cybernetic arms. There’s no digital queue for her to log in to, or even a service request button on the seemingly organic wood bar. So she stands, hands folded on top of the bar for them to finish pouring drinks and notice her standing there.

Just as the barkeep’s attention slides her way, a warm body presses up behind hers. She stiffens as a the person jostles her to lean heavily on the bar. “Eng! Another for me. And whatever my cute new friend wants.”

A refusal is on the tip of her tongue, but when she looks up into slitted yellow eyes haloed by curled black and purple freeform locs, she gets an encrypted message.

>>>Bricks: Hello Bambi. >>>Bricks: Order a drink and come with me.

—

"They shouldn't be locked up. They're people, not mindless killing machines."

Across the table, under the dim lights, the woman called Bricks cocks her head. She’s a true cyborg, someone who’s modifications are probably keeping them alive. The cybernetics of her left arm extending well into her ribcage. She doesn’t hide it. Under dark overclothes, a slouching shirt exposes the metal of her collarbones, the servos that whir as she breathes. She swirls her glass of Jack and Coke with an amused look on her face as a barely muffled moan pierces through loud music.

Naya takes a deep breath to keep from fidgeting. It took three months to arrange even this meeting with the elusive American arms dealer, in the back of this dingy bar on a busy Friday. She wasn't about to lose the lead just because she could hear lewd comments and barely muffled squeals of pleasure from the nearby hall to the washrooms. The more concerning noise was coming from behind her, anyhow, the thump of knives into a dart board, distressed beeping from the unlucky mini-droid bound to the target.

"You want me to set up a meeting with the Watcher," Bricks drawls, sitting back in her chair. Her pointed cybernetic nails drum against the table. She doesn’t bother to whisper, but both of them have been disrupting any listening devices in range. "So you can make sure that Price's monsters are being treated humanely?"

"They're not monsters," Naya hisses.

"You've never seen them." It's not a question.

"I don't need to see them to know they shouldn't be kept locked in cages."

Bricks freezes with her glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrow. “Cages?”

“That’s what I saw.” Gritting her teeth, Naya hisses. “Look. You know what it means to be augmented, what extensive modifications are like. But without anesthesia? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

“You’d be surprised what I would wish on my worst enemy, sweetheart.” Bricks chuckles and throws back the last dregs of her drink. "But you know what? Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine. You want in so bad? I'll set up a meeting with the Watcher, and Price."

Well. That was easier than expected. "What'll it cost me?"

"Oh, your whole life, probably. Your whole world view, certainly," Bricks chuckles. She gives Naya an obvious once over, gaze lingering on her breasts. "But you don't owe me any more than a quick flash of your tits."

That does make Naya’s confidence falter. "W-what?"

"You heard me. C'mon, give me a little peek, and I'll send a message right now. You can have Price's monsters off their leashes by the end of the week." Bricks grins, slit pupils pulsing wide with interest. "We don't even have to go anywhere, just pull down your shirt a little bit."

"I'm not..." Naya looks around, furtively. "This isn't exactly priv-" She flinches as she's interrupted by a loud moan, followed by a cheer from the rest of the bar.

"You're asking me to let your hands get real dirty, sweetheart." Bricks stands and circles the table to crowd Naya against the wall. She dips down to breathe into her ear. "And unless you want word to spread of a cute, clean cut, little topsider digging into illegal soldier mods, you're gonna pull your tits out and take the money I give you, after, Bambi."

There’s something behind the predatory look in the taller woman’s eyes. A challenge. She’s called Naya’s bluff, hasn’t she? When she refuses, Bricks will send her off with a laugh and a pat on her ass. And she’ll be back at square one, unable to face the danger of diving deeper again.

But Naya’s never been accused of knowing when to back down.

It’s the work of a moment to have the various video feeds in the room start a ten second loop. Her bots use movement patterns to make the video seem natural to anyone not looking closely. Bricks makes an interested noise when the video feed from her cybernetic eye continues showing Naya’s darting eyes and regular breaths. Her organic eye takes in the way Naya’s hands come up to unclasp the front of her shirt.

She takes a deep breath before hooking her fingers into the neck of her undershirt. She looks down as she inches it down to reveal the scalloped edge of her bra, instead of looking to see if Bricks is aroused or amused or some other, worse thing.

Before she can truly expose herself, a warm hand touches her wrist. “So eager. Not even gonna give me a little tease?”

>>>Bricks: Nice trick with the cameras, but you’re going to call attention.

Naya tips her chin up and immediately regrets it when Bricks leans down to meet her. Her breath shivers between their lips. When a metal arm comes up to block her view of the rest of the room, she turns her face away.

>>>Bambi: It’d be more suspicious if I let everyone have a clip for distribution.

“Smart girl,” Bricks whispers against her temple. “Take the credits.”

The fund transfer Bricks initiates has a public comment attached. ‘Classy. Could almost be the real thing.’ Naya glares up at Brick’s smirking face as she accepts the transaction. Two hundred. It feels like too little and too much money at the same time. Almost immediately, she gets inquiry pings from six other patrons the bar.

“And that’s your alibi,” Bricks chuckles, stepping back so quickly that she barely has time to put herself to rights. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

—

Naya tries not to fidget in the freight elevator, down, down, down, into The Throat. Bricks's arm is a possessive weight on her shoulder. On the other side of the lift, a startlingly tall man stares at them through the holes in a cloth sack. When she meets his eyes, something writhes where his mouth should be.

"Eyes to yourself," Bricks growls when he takes a half step in their direction. Her cybernetic arm crackles warningly.

The man visibly considers his options before making a guttural sound. A thick appendage, tongue or tentacle, Naya can’t really tell, pokes out from under the hood. He mutters something she doesn’t understand in under-tongue. Bricks hisses something back, pushing Naya behind her as she takes a threatening step forward. The man flinches, then crowds himself into his corner. He doesn’t even look in their direction for the rest of the descent.

When the doors open, Bricks holds her back until the man leaves, then steers her out into the street. Naya's been under-city before, but not in this bloc. The air is just as stale and hazy as she remembers, but this shaft doesn't see as much vertical commuter traffic as some of the others, so the street is dark instead of lit with neon. The faintest bit of light filters down from straight above.

Groping for something to say, she asks, "Did you know that guy?"

Bricks snorts, keeping an arm around her's waist as she steers her along. "Yeah."

“What did he want?”

She gets an uninterested shrug. “The same thing any bottom dwelling opportunist wants.”

It’s not hard to imagine what she means. When she doesn't say anything else, Naya searches for another topic. She swallows her pride and forces herself to say, "Thank you for setting up this meeting."

"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart. You're gonna hate me soon enough."

"I know it's dangerous for you," she insists as Bricks draws her down a side street. Dangerous is an understatement, if the Ghost Teams are so far gone that they’re experimenting on human beings. "Even if things are hard, moving forward, I appreciate your help."

Bricks doesn't answer. Instead, she knocks on a barred door. It opens a crack, and she and the other person hiss low words at each other. A shining green eye looks Naya up and down, the door shuts, and Bricks draws her away.

They stride, briskly, back to the main street. Bricks asks, "Do you have a respirator?"

"Yes."

"Put it on, don't speak."

Wordlessly, Naya unfolds the mask from her pocket and covers her mouth and nose. Bricks pulls a dark scarf from her shoulders and wraps it around Naya’s head and neck, and then drops a poncho over her head. Somehow, the mercinary looks bigger in just her thin shirt, the muscles and metal in her shoulders more pronounced.

Ten minutes into their silent walk, a man melts from the shadows and starts walking on Naya's other side. Though she can’t see much under his baggy clothes, his gait speaks to digitigrade modifications. When she glances up, he has a faceplate under his own hood. His voice, when he speaks, is robotic. "Bricks."

"Roach."

“You’re looking smug and determined.”

“I’m on a very… interesting job.” An encrypted message gets passed between the two of them, and Naya frowns behind her mask. She shouldn’t be able to tell that a message was sent, though, so she bites her tongue. Bricks smirks down at her, then turns her eyes forward. “What’s on your mind?”

"Shadows are hunting you. Seven thousand credits."

"That's insulting," Bricks dismisses. "Mace take the job?"

"That's insulting," Roach parrots back. Somehow, his metered and inflectionless voice sounds amused. A flurry of encrypted messages flows between them. Once those have finished, he says, "Come see us when your business with the Watcher is done." And then he fades away into the shadows again.

"Good job," Bricks whispers. "Stay silent. Keep taking deep breaths. Walk straight ahead. Don't run." And then she ducks down a side street, leaving Naya alone in the dark.

Fuck.

She keeps putting one foot in front of the other. Measured. Brisk, but unhurried. A couple of people pass on the other side of the street, then a man passes on her side. Under her poncho, she palms her pocket knife, but no one spares her a second glance.

After a full minute, Bricks slides out of the next alley and falls into step with her, a cigarette that smells like real tobacco between her lips. In her cybernetic hand, she has a twitching, bleeding length of what looks like an octopus tentacle the size of Naya’s forearm.

"You can talk now,” she says. “But you don't want to ask about this."

—

The respirator makes a lot more sense when Naya is led to a shaft to the Belly.

She’s never been to the middle level of the true undercity. Technically, no one should live in this industrial level, so there’s very little in the way of individual commerce and amenities. There is an abundance of dead “topsider tourists” every year, mangled and hacked to drain all of their resources before anyone can realize that they haven’t come home.

This lift is much smaller, just big enough for her to stand behind Bricks as the woman primes her arm. The edge of a plasma knife glows blue from within the mechanics of her bicep. When Naya activates the plasma in her own knife, Bricks looks over her shoulder at the near silent hum.

“You ever use that before?”

“Once.”

That earns an interested noise as the other woman faces forward again. “On a person?”

“…No.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” is all she says about that as the elevator shudders to a stop. “Stay behind my right arm. If I tell you to drop, you fall to the ground and don’t move until I tell you.”

When the door opens, it’s into a pitch black alley. The only light is the obscured gleam from with Brick’s left shoulder. Something in the darkness hisses. Bricks strides forward, and Naya has no choice but to follow after.

They walk for a few minutes without incident before Bricks knocks on a nondescript door. Next to it, a biometric scanner creaks open and scans one of her eyes, then one of her metal fingers. Naya flinches at the noise of a series of locks grinding open.

A stern faced blonde woman is on the other side of the door when Bricks gestures Naya inside. She’s not wearing a respirator, but then, neither is Bricks. The woman doesn’t say anything, so Naya doesn’t either. She just waits for Bricks to finish securing the door, then returns to her spot just behind her.

“Watcher,” Bricks greets with clear good humor. “I brought you a little something.”

Naya huffs a surprised breath from her nose, but stays silent. The Watcher. The overseer of at least one of five active Modified Task Forces. She looks so… normal. A woman in her mid forties, maybe, face lined with stress but open. Naya feels a little thrown off. When the lights flicker, however, she catches the red shine of a cybernetic eye. Whatever mods she has, they’re hidden so well that Naya can’t even sense them.

The Watcher’s eyes scan her for a moment before she’s looking back to Bricks. Naya only has a moment to wonder why she hasn’t been pinged before she asks, “Alive?”

“You always pay more when they’re alive.”

What? Naya stumbles backwards until she hits the door. “What?”

Bricks throws a grin over her shoulder. “I told you not to thank me.” Turning back to the Watcher, she says, “Thirty thousand credits. Had a run in with the King on the way here.”

“No one told you to bring her alive. Fifteen, and we void the Shadows bounty on you.”

“Twenty five. You want her alive, trust me. And I can handle the Shadows on my own.”

Naya gapes at the two of them. A quick glance over her shoulder and query to the door confirms that the locks won’t open again without a lot more force than she could manage, even if she wouldn’t have to fight Bricks to get out. And the Watcher… isn’t motivated to let her live. Fuck. The little knife in her hands feels less than useless.

“She wanted to meet you,” Bricks continues, crossing her arms. “And Price.”

That makes the Watcher pause and look over Naya again. “Oh?”

“She used his name,” Bricks confirms. “Real skilled code-breaker.”

“Hm.” The Watcher frowns, then says. “Thirty thousand is a low ball offer, then.”

“She thinks you’re keeping the task force in cages,” Bricks chuckles. “I want to watch when she sees them for the first time.”

That gets a huff of amusement. “Thirty thousand and a show… Deal. Bring her.”

When the Watcher turns away, Bricks looks back at Naya with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Good job. Now comes the hard part. Let’s go.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” she doesn’t want to walk forward, but there’s not much else to do. She tries to stand away from Bricks, but it’s hard in the narrow hallway.

“Nothing, now,” Bricks laughs. “Got you through the door alive, and Watcher can always use a code breaker.”

It’s hard not to feel stupid. Naya struggles to keep her voice even. “So this was just… a bounty for you?”

“Better me than König.” Bricks wiggles the tentacle that she’s still holding in metal fingers. “And better now than when an actual bounty was on your head. Diving into secure government information brings out the worst kind of trouble. The Shadows would have killed you in your bed. Kortac would have chipped you, if they decided keeping you was worth it. This way, everyone gets what they want.”

“Except me,” Naya points out.

“You’re still alive, for now,” the Watcher points out from a few steps ahead, without looking back. “Considering the problems you’ve caused me, it’s tempting to kill you myself. But Bricks is right. I can always use a Breaker.”

“I don’t do that professionally,” Naya protests weakly.

The Watcher doesn’t break stride. “You do, now.”

They get into another elevator, big enough for eight people. There aren’t any floor indicators, but as soon as the doors close, it starts to descend. Wrapping her arms around herself, Naya shivers. At this rate, she realizes, she may never see the sky again. She’ll be locked in a cage next to the 141, underground, let out to circumvent code for… what? To support more killing? More human experimentation? If she doesn’t cooperate, will they experiment on her? Put a processor in her brain to erase everything about her except for her skill?

Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, and she can’t help a sniffle.

“None of that,” comes the surprisingly gentle voice of the Watcher. When she approaches, she puts a gentle hand on Naya’s shoulder. “You’re here now. There’s no going back. But we take care of our own.”

Bricks snorts. “For given values of taking care of. You are keeping the boys in cages after all.”

“That’s not helpful,” the Watcher says, producing a tissue from her pocket and dabbing at Naya’s eyes. She pushes the makeshift hood back and gently removes her respirator, scanning her face with hard blue eyes. Eventually, she asks, “Why did you come here, Bambi?”

Shoulders coming up around her ears, Naya gets the feeling that because I’m an idiot isn’t the answer she’s looking for. She looks down at her sensible shoes, bracketed by the Watcher’s own worn work boots, and confesses, “Bricks said I could meet with you, and Price. And… I thought I could… encourage you to treat the modified soldiers more like people than animals.”

“And I suppose this encouragement was going to come with a threat to leak records to the public?” The Watcher’s mouth twitches into a sardonic smile when Naya looks up at her again. “Bold.”

Bricks chuckles. “Naive.”

“Hopeful. And some of the best plans are the simplest,” the Watcher dismisses.

Naya wouldn’t call her plan to connect to the building’s intranet and threatening to disrupt all of the life support systems “naive.” Now that she’s locked in, it feels like a distinctly hopeless course of action. She’ll have to think of something else, fast.

The Watcher steps away as the elevator comes to a stop. The doors open into a large control room, huge observation windows giving a 360 degree view out into dimly lit halls. Bricks ushers Naya out, heavy hands on her shoulders, until she pushes her into a chair facing a window to the left side of the room.

“Did we miss feeding time?” Bricks grins and pulls a puzzle ball from her bag. Her cybernetic hand twitches and whirs as it clicks through combinations.

“Luckily for Bambi, yes.”

Before Naya can ask what feeding time entails, something drops from the ceiling on the other side of the glass, startling a yelp from her. It’s a man, tall and lean, slitted eyes shining a red orange as he stares at her face through the glass. He’s half dressed, only in loose pants. Thick, dark streaks of something wet cover his chest and splatter down his legs. The grin that splits his pretty face puts three pairs of sharp canines on display, stained red.

The Watcher pushes a button, an intercom. “Gaz.”

“Who’s this cute little thing, Laswell?” Naya shivers as Kyle “Gaz” Garrick looks her up and down. He looks just like his personnel file, except for a wildness around his eyes that changes his face from welcoming to something dangerous. “Could practically smell her from the street.”

“Back away from the glass, you’re filthy. What the hell did you roll in?”

The man ignores the Watcher, face going soft as he leans down to get on a level with Naya. “Hello, honey. Such a pretty girl, what are you doing down here? You a friend of Bricks?”

Something about his crooning voice makes Naya’s hair stand on end. At the same time, she finds that she can’t look away from the man’s eyes as he tilts his head. They’re such an interesting color, and he keeps shifting ever so slightly in ways that draw her eyes to follow. He jerks quickly to one side when her eyes dip down to the red and brown splashed down his chest, then smiles when she looks back at his face. His teeth - even the extra ones - are perfect and red. Naya’s heart beats a little faster.

A loud pop and sudden flash makes Naya jump as Gaz reels back with a snarl.

“I told you not to touch the glass,” the Watcher grumbles. “Clean up. Make yourself presentable. And remind the others to put their masks on.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” he hisses. With one last, sweet smile to Naya, he turns and strides away before leaping up to grab an exposed beam and hoist himself into the shadows above the observation room. He disappears in the space of a moment. No matter how Naya squints, she can’t tell where he’s gone.

“Don’t look any of them in the eye,” Bricks whispers from close behind, chuckling at the way Naya jumps. “They’re predators, sweetheart, and you’re the sweetest bite of prey they’ve had in a long while.”

“Bricks,” the Watcher (Laswell?) chides. “Get her keyed in. Bambi, you’re not to be alone in here. We’ll get you interfaced with security so you know how to do a lockdown sequence before you’re introduced to the Task Force.”

When she’s handed an interface chip, Naya blanches. “I can’t, I don’t have a hard disk reader. Why do I need to know the facility’s lockdown sequences?”

“There’s no where in this facility that they can’t get,” Bricks replies, distracted as she opens a floor panel to extract a series of wires, and what looks like a very robust integration cable. “And if you’re going to work here, you’re going to need to be able to keep them from dragging you off and eating you.”

“Bricks.” Laswell snaps. To Naya she explains,    “Everyone who works here needs to know how to lock down in case of emergency.”

Naya gapes. “Emergencies? They can - They’re not -! They have full access to the facility?”

“Of course. They can get out of the facility, too,” Bricks snickers. “Who’s going to stop them?”

“Bricks!”

“All of the records say that they’re severely restricted.” The tight squeak in Naya’s voice is undeniable. “What do you mean they could eat me?”

“Old records,” Laswell answers without looking. A terminal lights up under her fingertips. “The only way the SAS would let us keep the facilities without bomb chips. Let me know when you’re ready for input.”

“The part about eating me?” Naya flinches as Bricks circles behind and pushes her hair up to expose the port beneath her left ear.

“If you’re as good as I think you are, you don’t have to worry about that,” Bricks says, shoving the cable into place. “Go.”

“What-”

Laswell launches the integration before she can get the question out. Naya’s whole body jolts, brain flooded with sudden input. She doesn’t dive into the data so much as she’s dragged under the tidal wave of the facility.

The whole structure unfolds around her, five floors, twelve stories down, three shafts up, two elevators, one stair. She’s in the observation tower, which descends three more floors. Heat, cooling, air filtration, power, food storage, office of Watcher One Kate Laswell, office of Bravo One John Price, research labs east and south, conference rooms, break rooms, sleeping quarters, inventory, directory of personnel.

Access Denied.

It’s nothing to shuffle the alert away. Asset Records. Veronica “Bricks” Mason, Gary “Roach” Sanderson, Mason “Mace” Ward, [Redacted] Nikto, Morgan “Sparrow” Voss. The list goes on. Task Force 141. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John “Soap” MacTavish, John “Bravo One” Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley. Vital statistics steady, duplicate identification signals, three dead copies, one living set. Security, kill switch overrides. These doors won’t close, but they’ll tell the observation tower that they have. Interesting.

Diving a layer deeper, she observes three separate security records. One is distressingly familiar, the records she’d found before, that spurred her to find Bricks, full of echoes of old code, now that she can see it. Then the one with logs going to Watcher One Kate Laswell, current and accurate. Except that the third log indicates security discrepancies and pings to KGKLJMJPSR. She logs the discrepancy on her own, internal system, a reminder to see if she can piggyback on someone else’s clearance.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she scans for what her clearance is supposed to have access to. It’s the second level, the one that doesn’t actually close the security doors surrounding the servers, sleeping quarters, and the observation tower. Well, that won’t do. She makes a digital copy of KL’s access and patches it into her own.

Just as she finishes, four ID tags simply labeled “Ghost” enter the lowest observation tower floor. That’s a glaring red security alert, and it only doubles in urgency as he accesses the hatch to the system port cable.

“Oh, that’s bad,” she hears herself say aloud as she gropes, blindly for the cable in her neck. “Ghost is accessing, I need to disconnect before he-“

Three more security alerts come up as the ID tags for Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap appear around the top floor of the observation tower, their floor. Naya quickly circumvents the overrides on the blast doors, and half observes rolling shutters covering the windows as Laswell makes a startled noise. Unfortunately, Ghost finds her while she’s distracted.

And he is a ghost, sliding between the layers of Naya’s own security code like a cold breeze. He rifles through her ID cards before she can even try to lock down. When she tries to lock him out of her interface, he slams through so fast it sends her reeling. Unfortunately for him, and for her, he trips over her Brain Blast in the process. The packet of musical theater data explodes to override everything she’s connected to, knocking her out of her connection to the facility and blaring Ohmigod You Guys through the speaker systems of the facility.

“What the fuck,” Veronica Bricks Mason shouts, covering her ears.

“Sorry, sorry,” Naya yelps. She manually reopens her access to the facility and cuts the sound. Her head spins with new information that she doesn’t have time to let her organic brain process. Ghost is nowhere to be found, but she doesn’t wait around to see where he pops up again before locking herself down and physically removing the cable from her neck. “Ghost tripped my security protocol.”

“You shouldn’t be able to influence any part of the facility,” Watcher One Kate Laswell observes. “Which means you’re every bit as good as Bricks says you are. Why did you lock down the tower?”

“Just this floor,” she answers absently, looking around as her interface flashes and labels new data points about her surroundings. It takes a moment for her to filter through everything enough to focus. “Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap were approaching as Ghost tapped in on the bottom floor.”

“I should have charged more,” Asset:Mason chuckles.

“Maybe you should have, Veronica,” Naya replies without thinking.

The woman just laughs. “Oh ho ho, you’re even better than I thought.

Watcher One Laswell drums her fingers on the table. “You don’t have a hard disk reader. Can you still access the facility without a hard line?”

Naya has to shake her head before she runs a quick system check. A ping to the 141 Facility gets a happy little ping back. “Yeah. My, um… my interface is a bit more robust than standard.”

Watcher Laswell nods. “Noted. Reset the security settings.”

Naya almost does it on autopilot, but stops herself. Running a quick check, she shivers. “They’re still out there. Three of them.” When Laswell only nods, she nudges the blast doors and security shutters to open. It takes a moment, but eventually they start to rumble to life.

Worryingly, when she can see through the windows again, Bravo One, Gaz, and Soap are no where to be found. The only active vitals in the facility say they’re right across the glass from where Naya is sitting. It sends a chill down her spine. Diving through the facility systems, she had felt untouchable. But she’s been outmaneuvered again. Unless…

She stands and leans closer to the glass, looking up into the shadows above.

Three pairs of eyes shine down at her from the darkness.

“They’re up there,” Naya whispers. When Laswell simply answers in the affirmative, she activates the intercom with a gulp. “Um. I’m sorry about the noise.”

“That’s quite alright, sweetheart,” a deep voice answers. “Ghost has a way of startling pretty girls. And I quite like a bit of theater.”

Well it’s not Gaz, and there’s no hint of a Scottish accent. “Are you… Bravo One? John Price?”

“You are a clever one.” One of the pairs of eyes squints and tilts. Another shuts, and doesn’t open again. Soap’s tags move a short ways away as Price continues. “Bricks says you asked to meet me.”

“Yes, sir,” Naya says, and then remembers too late that Bricks said not to meet their eyes. She tears her eyes away and jumps at the sight of John “Soap” MacTavish standing a few feet down the hall in front of her.

He looks good, surprisingly so. His hair is long, braided mohawk shining. A gleaming scar is the only indication of the wound that almost killed him. He’s healthy, big and bulky and dressed casually in black joggers and a tight black tshirt. Bright blue eyes with crossed pupils scan her face with interest. When he grins at her, his sharp teeth flash with titanium augments.

“Gaz wisna exaggeratin,’ ye smell quite nice, Bambi,” Soap purrs.

“What part of ‘masks on’ don’t you all understand?” Laswell grumbles.

“They’ve already got her scent,” Bricks snickers. “Did Ghost get your tags Bambi?”

“He did,” Price confirms from above. “Naya Walker, also known as Bambi. Computer scientist, you’ve sold a couple of database systems. Quite impressive.”

A pit opens in her stomach. Ghost had access to her system for less than three seconds. Her throat is tight when she says, “Thank you, sir.”

“So polite,” Gaz chuckles from above. “Come say hello, doll.”

Naya chances a glance back at Kate, then looks back at Soap, then up at the single pair of shining eyes above as Price’s ID winks away from your awareness. “I’m not sure I have clearance for that.”

“You didn’t have clearance to know about this facility,” Gaz points out. “And yet, here you are. Pretty as a picture.”

“Jesus,” Bricks mutters as Laswell makes a startled sound. “We really should put a bell on you.”

And then a huge hand presses against the glass next to Naya’s face. She startles backwards and runs into a huge, solid body, and yelps as a strong arm catches her about the waist.

“Caught ya,” a fourth, deeper voice rumbles above her. His other hand catches both of her wrists and immobilizes her as she stares at dark brown stains up to his wrists. “Been teasin’ us f’ months, dippin’ in an’ out ‘f m’code. So careful, li’l fawn. But not careful enough.”

“Ghost,” Laswell says. The whine of a plasma weapon being primed pierces through the otherwise silent room. Naya squeezes her eyes closed.“Hands off. That’s my Breaker.”

“’S’at so?” Ghost bends down, so far down, it seems, to drag the tip of his nose along Naya’s temple. “Seems she moight be mine, since I invited ‘er.”

“Speaking of,” Bricks interjects. “I’ll take my finder’s fee, now.”

“Bricks.” Laswell hisses.

“Transfer’s cleared, Bricks,” John Price says with a chuckle. “Pleasure doing business, as always.”

Like Gaz and Soap, Captain Price is bigger than his file made him seem. They’d shaved him, when they had replaced some of his bones with metal, but now his facial hair is as full and vital as the rest of him. This close, Naya can see the mechanics whirling within his eyes.

Leaning against his free side, Gaz licks his lips with a tongue that seems too long. But she only sees them for a moment before she’s being turned around, still wrapped in Ghost’s arms.

On the left side of the room Bricks lounges in a chair, tossing and catching and cycling through the combinations on her ball. She’s grinning like she’s gotten away with murder. Maybe she has - she’s been paid three times today for possibly the easiest bounty of her career. Across from her, Laswell holds a glowing knife in a loose grip by her side, shooting an annoyed glare at the other woman.

“What the hell is this?” Laswell hisses.

“You told us to stop hunting your techs,” Price chuckles.

“Bambi is mine,” Kate reiterates, glaring out the glass.

“Just a wee taste, Watcher,” Soap burrs from somewhere. “Ghost is code breaker enough, ye dinnae need another.”

Naya feels her entire body go cold. She takes a deep breath, reconnects with the facility, and runs Flash_Bang.exe.

—

The underground building has a straightforward layout, but that’s dangerous. Naya flicks away the alert when Ghost manages to patch his way back into the facility and silence the music - fuck, it only took him twenty eight seconds? - and ducks under a desk in the office she broke into, one floor down.

It’s hard to stay one step ahead of him, but her spiders and bots repair the five second camera feed loops as soon as he forces the cameras back online. He only wastes time breaking a third of the bot codes before he seems to realize that they’re replicating and switches to tagging, leaving them to run their processes.

It takes two agonizing seconds for her to open the audio relay from the observation tower without revealing her location to Ghost’s sweeping pings.

“-vilian running wild and scared through a secure facility, John.” Kate snaps.

“I thought she was your new breaker,” Gaz snickers. “Not really a civilian.”

“Nae,” Soap interjects. Naya is glad she doesn’t have video to see the nasty smile she can hear in his voice. “Watcher’s right. We cannae let her get too far.”

“She’s fucked the cameras,” Ghost chuckles. “Could get them back online, but it’d take some time.”

Price hums. “Location?”

“West labs’re pingin’,” Ghost answers. He sounds pleased. “Don’t mean much. She’s got bots spoofin’ her IDs.”

“Smells like she’s gone to the east wing,” Gaz purrs. “Lots of classified documents that way, Laswell. Hate to think of what she might come across if she makes it down to the third floor.”

There’s a tense silence before something slams. Eventually, Laswell hisses, “Fine. Bring her back. Alive and unharmed.”

“No promises,” Soap laughs.

Naya scrambles from her hiding spot as she confirms that the cameras in this south wing hall are looped. She needs to get back to the north side of the facility to get to the stairs that might take her up and out. But first she needs to get them off her trail… Somehow.

There’s a janitor closet two doors down, and she spoofs the signal to unlock the door just long enough to slip through it. She looks for bleach and prays it will be enough to mask her scent, then curses to herself when she realizes the bleach will be an obvious mark of her presence. She can’t just erase herself in the physical world the way she can, digitally.

An encrypted message alert calls her attention.

>>>Bricks: Soap will run at you directly. Gaz likes to ambush. Good Luck!

“I c’n see that, Bricks,” Ghost rumbles.

“She’s already at a disadvantage,” the mercenary chuckles. “Poor little thing, you’re going to eat her alive.”

“Oh, she’s not as harmless as all that,” Price laughs. “Took over the whole facility, gave Ghost the slip-“

“I let her go,” Ghost interrupts.

“Set up the meeting so there’d be no one here but us. Got her hands on the codes she thought would let her take control of us, the mindless killing machines.” John continues. He chuckles. “She’s a smart little thing.”

“She got the deadswitches?” Bricks sounds genuinely surprised.

“Command codes. The first ones,” Ghost confirms. “Duds, since we don’t have the chips, but she don’t know that.”

Well, she does now. Naya grabs three bottles of bleach and puts her respirator back on as her mind races. Part of what made soldier modifications so disgusting were the control processors. The irony of finding out that the 141 had somehow removed theirs was not lost on her. They’re already as free as she’d hoped to help them be, and they’re using that freedom to hunt her like animals.

The IDs for Soap and Gaz are still a floor above, moving slowly, following her trail. Ghost and Bravo One are still in the observation tower. She opens one bottle and rolls it back down the hall she came down, then jogs the other way, splashing the bleach as she goes. The observation tower in the center of the floor has mirrored glass, spiking her heart rate every time she catches sight of herself out of the corner of her eye. It’s so jarring that she almost doesn’t realize Gaz and Soap are coming out of the nearest elevator.

She ducks into an office just as the bell dings around the corner.

“Ach, that’s nae very nice, Bambi,” Soap calls. When he speaks next, it’s muffled, likely by his own respirator. “Ghost, she’s scent bombed the whole steamin’ floor. Where is she?”

“Don’t be lazy, Johnny,” Ghost chuckles. “’Ardly a hunt if there’s no challenge.”

“She’ll want the stairwell,” Gaz says. “Lock it down.”

“Already done,” Ghost says. “But locks aren’t exactly a deterrent, if you ‘aven’t noticed.”

“Bottle rolled down this hall,” Gaz says. “So she probably took the other.”

“Aye, that’s what she wants us to think,” Soap chuckles. “I’ll clear this side.”

Naya holds her breath as heavy footsteps start toward her hiding spot, then go so light she almost can’t hear them. She watches the light under the door and resists the urge to flinch at the appearance of a shadow. The man - Soap’s ID sits like a brand so close to her own in her interface - lingers by the door for a long moment then moves on. He’s so quiet that she keeps the map of the floor up to watch his progress. He’s listening for her, she realizes, stopping at each door. She’s lucky that the air circulation vents are above the door, or he might have heard her heart racing.

When Soap and Gaz each turn corners to start investigating the south wing, Naya finally lets herself take more than the shortest breath. She eases the lock open with a flinch at the mechanical click, but neither Soap nor Gaz change their trajectory. When she opens the door and peeks out, the hall is empty. So she eases her way out, crouches low, and shuffles as fast as she can to the stairwell.

She gives the locks three scans before coding them to unlock. The light turns green without incident. She waits for a moment. Soap and Gaz move just a bit farther away. Naya breathes a silent sigh and eases the door open.

“Got her,” Ghost says. “She’s in the stairwell.”

Above her, a door slams open. Naya yelps and starts jogging down the stairs before she can hear what Captain Price yells down at her. She brute forces her way through the lock codes for the third floor and pulls the door open, throwing her bottle of bleach at the wall before slamming it shut. She trips every proximity alarm she can, leading west through the third floor as she throws herself down the next flight. At the fourth floor door, she creates a signal loop, mindful of the door sensor she’d overlooked before. She hears Gaz and Soap slam through the second floor door open just as the door to the fourth closes behind her.

Too late, she realizes that she can’t hear into the tower anymore, and the map of this floor is all static in her interface. The schematics she had before are corrupted - Ghost’s doing, most likely. She can still see the locks on the doors, the terminals connected to the intranet in the various offices. It will have to be enough.

She darts into the eastern wing of the floor and realizes that no, it won’t be enough. The layout is different than the upper floors. The observation tower has no windows in this direction to speak of, for one. And the cameras are few and far between. The doors are also farther apart, and low pile carpet gives way to hard linoleum.

When she turns the corner, she gasps and ducks. Not that it would have helped any. She’s faced with a gymnasium, weight machines and benches and treadmills like a normal gym, except with weights so large it’s almost comical. There’s no one here, but the open space feels like a threat all the same. She turns tail and jogs back toward the observation tower.

As she turns south, she realizes that the tower has no windows on this floor. It’s not a relief, not really. Even if no one can see her, she’s trapped. Gaz and Soap are still looking for her, one floor up. How long will that last? The bleach trick can only work for so long, probably. And Ghost is good, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks into the camera bot code and finds her. How is she going to get up, past the first floor, let alone the next twelve flights of stairs to the streets of the Belly.

God, how is she going to make it home?

Her vision blurs with tears before she can finish taking her next breath.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpers before a hiccup jolts through her. Her breath shudders from her throat as she swipes at her eyes. “No, no, keep it together, it’s gonna be okay. I can figure this out, I can. I can, it’s okay.”

“Bambi? Talk to me,” Brick’s serious voice comes through, suddenly, fuzzy but definitely there. “Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”

Naya sobs, she can’t help it. It’s a few seconds before she can force more words out. “Why did you do this to me?”

“You asked me to bring you,” Bricks reminds her with a soft chuckle. “Didn’t know you were gonna try to take over the whole facility, or I might have set something else up. But if you come out now -“

A hand touches Naya from behind and she screams, throwing a HardReset packet into the space before she can even wonder if that would have any impact on Soap or Gaz. When she whirls around, though, a man she doesn’t recognize is slumped against the wall, barely keeping the weight of a bricked cybernetic leg from dragging him to the floor. Her interface has a moment to tell her this is “Mace,” before she’s darting around him and running again.

“Fuck!” the man shouts. “Watcher what the fuck- No, I’m on the fucking training floor, why the hell-“

“Bambi,” Bricks shouts, “Do not go into the w-“

She slams the connection shut and tries, unsuccessfully, to wipe her tears away. The distraction is probably why she doesn’t realize she’s heading north, but she knows her mistake as soon as she hears the stairwell door open.

She screams again, right in Gaz’s face, can’t help it now that she’s finally made noise. She dodges his reaching hand and bolts, knowing she can’t outrun him, but what else can she do?

“Shite. Ghost!” Soap calls. “Lock it doon!”

Naya dives through a blast door as it slides shut, ignoring the myriad of voices that shout at her. Through the panic, she terminates all of her bots and slams all of her processing power into separating Ghost from the security access from the floor. He puts up a fight, but another BrainBlast and FlashBang gives her the two seconds she needs to take control.

An alert flashes.

<<Message from: WatcherOneKL. Accept?>>

Sitting on the floor, panting and sniffling, she gulps a deep breath. Someone pounds on the door, but it’s solid, and Ghost can’t get past her bots to regain control. She’s safe.

—

In the observation tower, Price frowns at the data pad in his hands. “Ghost, Bricks. Where did you say you found Ms. Walker?”

“Found us, really,” Ghost mutters, focused on the 3D hologram of the facility. Bambi’s ID markers dance all over the place. He’s running algorithms to try to find a pattern, but she’s three steps ahead, it seems. “Set out a lure and she tore through it like tissue paper. An’ then she made a forum post lookin’ f’r information on soldier mods.”

“Scrubbed everything clean,” Bricks adds. “We couldn’t find her for days after she blew through everything. I got lucky that I found the forum post, it didn’t even trigger Ghost’s spiders.”

Price hums. “And… did either of you confirm which hacker group she’s a part of?”

“Didn’t really have time,” Bricks answers with a shrug. “As soon as I confirmed who I was, she demanded to meet Laswell, and you.”

“Interesting. Any of you ever hear of a group called the Archivist Collective?”

Laswell frowns. “Collective for Anarchy?”

“No.” Price shakes his head. “Archivist Collective. It’s the only thing coming up with her background check. And she’s not a known member of any of the major hacking groups.”

Bricks shrugs. “Obviously, she’d use another alias.”

“No,” Price says again, walking over to show Laswell and Bricks the data pad. “None of her aliases are connected with anything but this Archivist Collective. And their only mission is to ‘Counter censorship through the collection, preservation, and dissemination of contested and classified texts.’”

Ghost makes an interested noise and leaves the hologram to start another terminal whirring. “Let’s see what they’ve got then -… oh.”

Bricks sits up from her sprawl. “Oh?”

“They’ve got an archive. Barely any security at all. Hosted on the GaiaPet: Craft servers.”

“GaiaPet?” Kate frowns. “Isn’t that a… virtual pet game? Where people make things with voxels? Procedurally generated…. They’re definitely robust enough servers for cyberattacks-“

“It’s jus’ a fuckin’ library,” Ghost grunts, navigating through. “Huge text files, embedded images. Some of it’s definitely classified. But tha’s oll… Oh, shite. Jus’ found our records.”

Bricks looks from the terminal in Price’s hand, to Ghost, and back. “Wait. John, you said she sold a couple of database systems. She’s got to be working with some data brokers, at least.”

“This says she developed and sold literal systems,” John says, horror dawning on his face. “A spreadsheet editor and a UI designed to organize complex data sets. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t sell information. Everything she’s got, besides those systems, is open source.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ghost breathes.

Kate strides up to look at his screen. “What?”

“She’s got an active account on GaiaPet. A pet frog named Señor fuckin’ Snuggly. Her last login was today, and her chat with the AI said ‘Wish me luck, if we can’t get those soldiers released, we can at least get the information out there.’”

The silence in the room is palpable. And then Bricks says, “Bambi? Talk to me. Those sound like tears, sweetheart.”

—

Naya keeps her arms wrapped around her knees until she stops shivering. In that time, two more message request alerts pop up, from BravoOneJP and GhostSR. All of them are marked maximum priority, and she has no desire to touch them. She can see the signal burst of Bricks trying to talk to her, but she’s muted the feed so that she can just have… a single second to breathe.

Her interface pushes everything away to prioritize an SOS signal, then automatically begins transcribing the subsequent Morse code message.

SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give code for control stop. Confirm stop. SOH. West wing dangerous stop. Battle androids stop. 15 active 20 inactive stop. GSR give-

She minimizes the message and sucks in the deepest breath she can, holds it, and forces herself to focus on her body. If she thinks about fifteen battle droids on this side of the door while modified soldiers hunt her on the other, she’ll start screaming and never stop. A part of her wants to lay down and just… give up. A big part. The whole part.

She opens the message from Laswell.

Bambi: You’re in a hazardous section of the facility. Ghost is standing down, for your safety. You will have to establish connection with the control tower to gain codes for control of battle -

Naya deletes the message and opens the one from Price. It’s more of the same, a demand that she open communication, a warning that the west wing of the floor is dangerous. She almost doesn’t open the message from Ghost, but… she doesn’t have much to lose.

She jumps when the message contains an audio file.

“Bambi, fuck, we didn’t know you was a literal archivist. Bricks an’ I fucked up. This is a truce, a suspension of hostilities. SOH. The training floor you’re on is fuckin’ dangerous, Bambi. Too dangerous for me to try t’ take it from you. You gotta take control of the droids. I can’t fuck wit’ ‘em while you’re in control of the space. I managed to confirm shut down of 20, but there’s 15 more. I c’n try to send the control codes this way, but the codes expire every 2 seconds. Better if you open comms. If you can’t, Morse confirmation, I’ll send the codes. Once you grab one, the rest will come for you. You’re fuckin’ fast, I know you can do it, but if you have an issue, open the door an’ Soap and Gaz’ll support.”

She’d rather be shot full of holes by military grade turrets than open the door. Her map of the facility is complete again, and she can see four IDs on the other side of the barrier. Soap, Gaz, Mace, and the redacted asset, Nikto, mill around, pacing between the blast doors and the central tower. But no one is pounding on the door or trying to open it, physically or otherwise. When she checks, her bots are idly cycling through access code randomization, but there’s no attempts at a breach.

Maybe Ghost is telling the truth?

She sends a Morse message.

Received stop. Hold for confirmation stop.

The answer is immediate.

Received stop. Holding for confirmation stop.

Does she want to open the comms? What if it’s a trap? Without knowing how long the code chains are, she’s at a disadvantage without a direct link to the tower. But if she opens connection to the tower, how can she guarantee that Ghost won’t command the androids to terminate her? On the other hand, if he is telling the truth, and the codes expire that fast, there’s no way she can locate and override that many machines that are actively trying to keep her out in time. And they are definitely trying to keep her out - her spiders have been able to confirm twenty units on standby, and fifteen empty holding stations, but there’s no sign of the other droids.

With a shaking breath, Naya opens the comms.

Brick's voice is the one she hears first. "Oh, thank fuck, she's back. Bambi? Can you hear me? Sweetheart, I need you to keep the blast doors static. If they cycle, they might start a lockdown sequence, and that will get the droids moving.” It takes two tries to get the words past her tight throat. "I don't want to die." "I'm so sorry, dove," Captain Price croons. "We’re gonna get you out of there.” "I won't tell anyone, I promise," Naya babbles though gasps. "I just want to go home." "You're gonna be okay, Bambi," Ghosts voice is surprisingly gentle. “Cleverest breaker above and below the city, yeah? Gave Soap an’ Gaz a proper chase an’ knocked Mace on ‘is arse. Coupl’a droids don’t stand a chance.”

“I’m not - I don’t know how to fight,” she whimpers.

“Who said anythin’ about fightin’? Pretty girl like you don’ have t’ lift a finger. Laswell?”

“Working on it,” the woman mutters. “Bambi, I need you to try to give us cameras without initiating any other processes. That’ll help- oh. You are fast. Give me a few seconds to find the nearest droids and we can give you the serial numbers.”

“She’s so small,” Price notes, somewhere in the background. “Possible the droids won’t even register her as a target.”

“I think we’ve fucked up enough today that we don’t need to risk it,” is Brick’s bone dry reply. “Sparrow is going to beat all of our asses.”

“Well, we’re about to give Bambi control of thirty-five full combat units,” the Captain points out. “Might not be much left of us to kick.”

Laswell breaks in. ��Ghost-”

“Got em,” Ghost answers. “Bambi, ‘ve got a bead on the nearest units. ‘ow do you want to do this?”

Naya takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to hype herself up. It’s just code work. There are other variables, but at the core of it all, it’s just code. Yes, many of the variables have potentially painful and fatal consequences… But in the end, she can either do the code or not. And if there’s one thing she can do, it’s code.

“H-how,” she clears her throat and blinks back tears. “How many bits, per unit? For the key, I mean.”

“Forty ninety-six.”

Oh, just the highest security rating in the world, she thinks to herself, a little hysterical. She nods to herself and talks through the urge to giggle with nerves. “Okay. That’s seven hundredths of a second per unit, with the key. That’s… not so bad. I can probably handle them in batches of 5. Can I have the first hardware address? Morse, please.”

It takes a second, but the information comes through. It only takes a moment for a spider to highlight the machine in the network. Very quickly, her bots are able to identify and tag seven other units on her map. She shoots a summary data packet back to Ghost.

“Are these all droids?”

“Yeah, that’s half of ‘em. Laswell, she was able to identify all of the A-27 units, do you have eyes on any of the E-243s?”

In the background, Price mutters, “Kate hasn’t even laid eyes on all of the 27s.”

Another data packet comes through, and Naya is able to tag seven more dots on her map. Fifteen battle androids, and two of them just down the hall and around the corner on either side.

Naya takes another hiccuping breath. “How fast can they move?”

“A-27s are closest to you, they’re about a meter per second. The 243s move at about 4 per second.”

“Okay,” she says, holding her breath through another hiccup. She has two of her bots run movement simulations, and decides she’ll focus on the closest two A-27s, then the closest four E-243s. She has the processing power to do it, between her own interface and the facility. But… “I’m going to need these six keys first, but I have to let the doors cycle. How long is the lockdown sequence?”

Bricks makes a concerned noise before answering, “Fifteen seconds before you can open the door.”

So, if she messes this up, she’ll be dead for about 11 seconds before they’d be able to retrieve her body. Wonderful. “Ghost, I need all of the codes at once, in two packets, with the keys in this order. And then the next set of keys as soon as you have them. There’s a half second delay, so I need them as soon as they’re generated.”

Laswell sounds genuinely concerned when she asks, “Is that going to give you enough time?”

Naya runs the numbers again, and realizes that she’s fallen into a very peculiar state of calm. “I should have one point three seconds plus a little wiggle room per key. That’s plenty, for the first part. And if the first part doesn’t work… I don’t really have to worry about the rest of it.”

Captain Price’s voice is stern as he gives commands. “Gaz, tell Nikto to power up the cutter, in case we need to get you through the door. Bambi’s going to override the droids.” He’s quiet a moment, then, “Ghost says she can do it, and from what I’m seeing up here, I’m inclined to believe him. But the resets she did mean the door is going to lock down before she can open it again.”

Ghost says, “Ready to send the next round of codes on your mark, Bambi.”

Naya squeezes her eyes shut and sets her bots to be ready to receive and engage the keys. She takes one long, deep breath. Another. Lets all the air out in a huff. “Mark.”

As soon as the packet comes through, her interface is a flurry of executables and intrusion alerts. Her bots are fast, but the activation of the keys isn’t instantaneous. Just as she was warned, as soon as the first set of keys starts running, all of the droids set themselves to Active:Seeking, Objective:Eliminate. But almost as fast, they’re all placed back into Standby:HoldPosition in a wave that flows through the entire wing.

"That's all of em," Ghost sighs, four seconds later. Something creaks, probably the chair he's sunk himself into. "Fuckin' 'ell, she got all of em. Don' think she even needed me to provide the third set of keys. If she don't run screamin', I want her runnin' the damn-" Naya's heart spikes as an alert pings her interface. Her voice squeaks when she calls, "Ghost? There's two units coming online. They’re not listening to me, I can't stop them. What do I do?" Before she can hear his response, the power to the hall cuts out. Naya holds in a scream as everything goes dark and then red with emergency lighting. Captain Price's voice is overtaken by static, and then she loses the tower completely. Somewhere, in the darkness, she can just barely hear the whine of attack units Riley and Merlin priming their weapons.

—

“Goddamn it,” Kate snarls. “It’s the 9s. They’re jamming the signal.”

Bricks jumps up from her chair. “Bambi’s in there without access to the system?”

Ghost makes a disagreeing noise. “They’re active because she’s not an authorized user. They’re jamming anything that isn’t local to the wing, I should be able to patch- Johnny!”

“We cuttin, LT?”

“Forward these packets to Bambi, nothing else.”

“Aye - fuck!”

—

A message request from SoapJM flashes on Naya’s screen just as she finds out that these new droids can move at thirteen meters per second. When she opens it, she gets an immediate key packet. Every bot she has gets set to receive, but the keys are expired, so she has to wait an agonizing three-quarters of a second before the next ones come through.

Just as a next packet arrives, a blue beam of light slices across the end of the hall, then a second from the opposite side. She barely has time to match the keys to the hardware addresses before two furry muzzles round the corner, guns glowing from their shoulders. Naya has only a moment to recognize the controversial K-9 battle units before they both take a step in her direction. And freeze.

It’s an harrowing second of silence, two, three. She doesn’t even breathe.

With a whir, mounted turrets power down and withdraw back behind artificial fur. The K-9s change their status to Standby:AcceptNewObjective with identical head tilts. The one tagged Riley wags its tail and trots forward, tongue lolling like the average bio-dog. Merlin approaches with a little more hesitant body language, though Naya can see the way it’s integrating her tags into the authorized user list in its software.

She flinches away from the door at the high pitched whine of a plasma cutter on metal. Hastily, she sends an ‘All Clear’ message back to Soap, just as the lights come back on.

Captain Price’s voice resolves with renewed connection to the control tower. “-both of your necks. What were you thinking?”

“Oh, suddenly we’re all about vetting assets?” Bricks laughs. “You recruited me with a bag over my head.”

“You were an establlished CIA asset,” Laswell grits out.

Bricks scoffs. “And Sparrow and Nikto?”

“We wasn’t wrong,” Ghost interjects. “Bad intel aside-”

“No intel!” Captain Price half-shouts.

“-she took the facility from me twice and disarmed 15 droids in less than 4 seconds without any formal training. She’s good.”

“None of that matters if she’s dead,” Laswell snaps.

Naya clears her throat. “I’m not dead.”

“Bambi!” Bricks sound downright cheerful. “Doors are almost done cycling, you’re almost out. Hold tight.”

Petting a hand over the soft fur of Riley’s head, Naya feels for the lumps of it’s internal machinery. Of course, she can’t find it - K-9s were built for stealth and surveillance, to blend in with any other dog. These ones are modified for combat, but they’re still adorable.

It’s almost hard to believe that they were going to shoot her, less than ten seconds ago.

The blast door’s status changes to ready, an almost cheerful ping in her interface. She barely gives it a thought before initiating another lockdown sequence, then queuing two more behind it.

Ghost notices. “Bambi?”

“I need a minute, please,” she answers, then cuts the camera feeds.

Merlin eventually comes and sits just out of reach, tail thumping once against the ground. Naya pulls up it’s configuration settings and examines the personality controls. Calm, but friendly, alert, reserved, breaks “arbitrary dog rules” at a rate of 6%. Riley: open and playful, eager to please, breaks rules 17% of the time. Both locked to 141 facility 4th floor, west wing training center.

Do Not Remove.

—

When the blast doors open, Naya is standning a few feet back. Riley and Merlin lay on either side of her feet, solidly in a sleep cycle. Her fingers dig into the opposite sleeves of her cardigan as Soap and Gaz come into view, along with a fully functional Mace, and a fully helmeted cyborg she can only assume is Nikto.

“Steamin’ Jesus, bon,” Soap says taking a step forward. “Ye gave us a wee fright!”

“If you get within three feet of me,” Bambi says, pausing for a deep breath. “I’ll shoot you.”

Three set of eyebrows shoot up. Nikto’s faceplate remains unchanged. Gaz looks at the others before answering, “We’re sorry we frightened you, love. We didn’t know Bricks hadn’t-”

Naya interrupts him. “I would like to leave now.”

“Well…” Soap says with a shrug. “We can take ye back t’ Laswell?”

“That’s fine. Riley, Merlin, up.”

When the dogs “wake” and stand, Mace says, “They can’t pass that door.”

She takes a step forward, flanked by the dogs. “I think you’ll find that they can.”

“Nae, Bambi,” Soap says gently. “They’re hard coded-”

Riley’s turret activates as soon as Soap takes a step toward her. Naya takes another deep breath, and repeats, “If you get within three feet of me, I will shoot you.”

“Well you certainly won’t be doing that with the dogs,” Gaz scoffs. “We won’t touch you, but you really should come with… us.”

The dogs cross the threshold of the door with her, and the plasma cannon in Merlin primes with a dangerous, high pitched sound. When the stunned soldiers don’t step back, the dog’s chest panel opens with a blue glow.

“Three feet,” Mace says, taking two big steps back, hands in the air near his head. “You got it.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaz says aloud, taking his own step backwards. “The doors are open and we have eyes on her. She’s got the 9s with her. Well sir, it seems she’s taken a liking to them.” He pauses. “Soap did tell her that, but apparently she doesn’t really care.”

Naya rolls her eyes and enables the cameras in the hall. “So you’re all allergic to just saying things outright?” The muted audio feed is a flurry of activity, but she just gestures down the hall. “After you.”

—

In the end, everyone ends up in a second floor conference room. Naya stands by the far wall, Riley and Merlin a deadly guard panting in front of her feet. The other eight sit and stand at the other end, fidgeting and clearly searching for a way to break the silence.

Bricks tries first, “Sweetheart-”

“Give me a reason not to overload the filtration systems,” Naya interrupts.

That makes everyone flinch. Laswell clears her throat. “What-”

“Because,” Naya nearly shouts, “I could shoot at least two of you, but then you really would kill me this time. But if I backflow and spark the air, that would kill all of you.”

“Kill ye, as well,” Soap points out.

“I thought I was going to die about five times in the last hour,” Naya says, much calmer than she feels. “Mention me dying again and I’ll fry your interface.”

“Ghost just aboot did tha’ already,” Soap mutters.

“Need a hacker for an op. Thought you was a professional,” Ghost finally admits after a moment of tense fidgeting. “Way you ate through the files I laid out, blew through a 256 like tissue paper. Couldn’t find you after… Figured you knew what you was doin’. And y’do.”

Naya’s eye twitches. “And you couldn’t send me an email? Set up an interview?”

“I did try,” Bricks points out. “But you said all the keywords that tend to get a person fast tracked to a very classified meeting.”

“A very classified meeting where you sell me, twice and then hunt me for sport?”

“Everything sounds bad when you say it like that,” the other woman chuckles.

The air circulator over the door falls silent. In the ensuing silence, Naya can hear the servos whir in Bricks’s arm.

“Clearly, we made mistakes,” Laswell admits. “So. What do you want?”

“I want to not have been sold and hunted for sport. Barring that, I would like a time machine. I’d love to know what you consider an equitable offer, Watcher One.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Mace hisses at Captain Price.

“Apparently we made a tactical error,” the man grumbles. “And then a series of compounding tactical errors.”

“You did not ask Nikolai,” Nikto says, matter of fact. It’s the first Naya’s heard his voice, human and heavily accented. “Or Sparrow. She will not be pleased, I think.”

“None of Nik’s contacts c’n do what Bambi c’n do,” Ghost counters.

“Bambi can kill every person in this room,” Naya says, voice flat, emphasized by the glow of two plasma cannons. “Bambi can turn this whole facility into a goddamn crater. Bambi can post videos of the human experimentation to the holonet.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Gaz says. “What human experimentation? No one’s experimenting on anybody.”

“I saw the videos!” Naya yells. “People in cages, people on operating tables, awake, screaming, crying. I saw people eating raw meat, off of leg bones, eating people!”

“Oh fuck,” Ghost says, voice wavering. His face is stricken when she looks at him. “Bambi, that weren’t for you to see, fuck, ‘ow deep did you fuckin’ go? I didn’t even-”

“That’s the job,” Bricks cuts in. “That’s why we needed a hacker, because we’re trying to stop that from happening, and we can’t get through their walls or exploit their vulnerabilities.”

“Oh, that’s just the “bad guys”?” Naya scoffs. “Okay. Why was Gaz covered in blood when I arrived?”

“Blood!” Soap yelps. “That was hydraulic fluid an’ oil! One of the bikes is actin’ up, and our mechanic isnae aroond!”

“It was in his teeth!”

“He’s bonnier than he is graceful!”

“Oh, fuck you, Tav!”

“You said you couldn’t promise to bring me back alive! Ghost called it a hunt!”

“Ah was jokin’!” Soap runs and hand over his mohawk. “We’re a right frightful lot, and sometimes we sneak aboot, but mostly people just cannae always hear us coming! Ye’d think we could catch one wee little civilian withoot incident!”

“You’re the one who was running through a secure facility,” Captain Price points out.

A plasma cannon discharges into the wall above his head. The whole room freezes for a beat before Naya hisses. “If you ever even think of implying-”

“Any information you find about Makarov and his dealings, you can make public,” Bricks interrupts. “Who, what, when, where, how. All of it can go into your archive.”

Laswell scowls. “Now hold on-”

Bricks talks over her. “We don’t have anything you want that you can’t just outright take, Bambi. That’s what you came here for. Information, and to get people out of cages.”

Nikto looks at Bricks and snorts before muttering something under his breath in Russian. Mace crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat and doing a much better job of keeping his thoughts off of his face than Soap and Gaz. The sergeants look horrified. Ghost looks about ready to throw up. Captain Price and Laswell share a sour, resigned look.

“You’ll have our backing,” Laswell sighs. “You’ll need something a bit more secure than the GaiaPet servers, or you’ll be tracked. But yes. You can disseminate the information.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Naya considers her options, arms around herself. The air circulator kicks back on.    Eventually, she says, “I want an advance. Thirty thousand credits, plus however much Price paid.”

“Done,” Bricks answers.

“And… I want seventy five credits an hour.”

“…Fine,” Laswell agrees.

“And I keep the dogs.”

Captain Price makes a disagreeing noise. “Those are government property.”

“Either I keep them, or I set them to self destruct and detonate every android on the fourth floor.”

Nikto says, “You are a bloodthirsty hind.”

“I’m really not,” Naya says. “But I’ve had a very long day. Do we have a deal?”

“Don’t think we have much of a choice,” Captain Price concedes.

Just then, the door to the conference room opens, and a brunette peeks her head in. Morgan Voss, “Sparrow,” as her ID tags her, nods at Laswell. “Just got in, didn’t know there was a meeting scheduled. What did I miss?” Her eyes drift up. “What the hell happened to the wall?”

[atiny-for-life]

I apologize if you’ve answered this before, but is there a reason why the Kingdom performances are not included in the Ateez lore masterlist? Thank you!

No one's ever asked before, actually! I'm happy to explain:

There are multiple things making me hesitant about this right now. For one, I wouldn't expect them to assume all Atinys will watch these performances and look to them for lore clues since most only go by official MVs and the albums.

To me, these performances have always had the energy of getting people hyped and excited about their lore themes of revolution, pro expression, anti oppression and their team was likely working on putting together The World series at the time so it made sense to trial run some of their ideas here.

I actually tried to fit these performances in before but I could never find a place where it'd make 100% sense - they seem to be a blend of real lore and stuff just meant for Kingdom.

To start with: in "The Awakening of Summer" (the Rhythm Ta performance), Hongjoong breaks the Cromer out of a glass case at the end. Based on that, timeline wise, this would've had to happen in the Z-World before Ateez ever got there because the only time they lost the Cromer after was when Yeosang smashed it and the recovery of that was in the A-World and we know how that went down (Museum heist gone wrong) and it was nothing like this.

However, with it happening before Ateez's arrival, I wouldn't expect to see them distributing flyers (with the anarchy logo from Guerrilla) and for Hongjoong to hold a speech at a podium because something of that scale didn't really happen before they hijacked the Strictland transmission system in Guerrilla.

From everything we know, the Black Pirates were only doing street performances before their movement picked up speed after Ateez got there. They didn't have the manpower and means to pull off large scale heists prior to that; they were operating out of an abandoned warehouse and they didn't really start getting allies until Left Eye set up the Black Link where people could reach out after waking up.

And on top of that, it was A-World Yeosang's tech know-how that got them spy gear and everything so I kinda don't see them breaking into a Strictland government facility full of armed guards in their early days.

But, if I did have to fit it in somehow, I'd put it pre-Ateez's arrival as the event in which the Black Pirates first got hold of the Cromer:

The Awakening of Summer

They caught wind of the government having found the Cromer and heard it has unique abilities like teleportation, entering the dreamscape - powers that could help them free their world

So they get all the guns they can find, hop into their bulletproof van (like in Guerrilla) and take off

They shoot down the guards stationed at the facility but then also somehow manage to bring them back to life with the magical masks they own (?) or maybe they used rubber bullets or stun guns or something

Regardless, the masks presumably contain breaker technology (somehow) which separates the guards' microchip link connection which means they can now feel and think freely

However, Ateez aren't dumb so they keep the guards tied up for now so thy can't run off and rat them out

While some of them are looking for the Cromer, San straps a bomb to a security guard's chest and ties him to his desk chair (pretty extreme - that's some Halazia universe Matz shit)

During the heist, Yunho and Wooyoung find their Wanted Posters and a bunch of newspapers

The front page headline of the newspaper reads: "The Central Government defined The Black Pirates as a terrorist"

San then goes off on his own and climbs up a rope to an emergency button which opens the massive double doors to a high security section of the building (the one with the Cromer)

This allows the rest of Ateez to waltz right in and Hongjoong immediately goes off to the section with the confiscated art

Which should normally be stored in the Android Guardian bunker, the converted museum on Guardian Island, but I guess they must've used another type of building before - maybe they changed it after the Black Pirates broke into this place (I digress)

Either way, the former guards are now freely raiding the place, making me assume they've switched sides after discovering what art is and that the government's intentionally been withholding it from all of them

While Hongjoong's raiding the place with the guards they captured in the beginning, Wooyoung, Jongho, and Yeosang are handling the guards stationed in this section

During the following dance break, Hongjoong's walk off right before something interferes with everyone's ear pieces (I assume they were using them to communicate while they were separated)

Immediately after, Hongjoong begins his speech, indicating he hijacked all frequencies, including the one they'd been using, so he could broadcast this to the entire city:

"People, open your eyes! For our lives! Keep your mind! Now is the time for freedom, if we try! Listen, look, write! Open your eyes!"

(Note the slogan "Hearts Awakened" on the podium and the small-scale version of the blimp we saw in Guerrilla above Hongjoong - these, plus the van, are part of the reason why I think this was a test run for The World series and the Guerrilla mv in particular)

After the speech, they walk off and Jongho throws up a handful of flyers (which, again, look exactly like the ones from Guerrilla)

During Jongho's high note, Hongjoong walks off again and we next see him putting on the Black Pirates' getup (signature fedora) and break the glass case in which the Cromer is kept

(The clothes are likely just to ensure we as the audience know this isn't A-World's Ateez but the Black Pirates)

Cromer in hand, he smiles and walks off. Mission complete. The performance ends.

Ode to Joy

Now, regarding Ode to Joy, this one feels like it's more so meant to connect some dots between the former two series and the (then) upcoming one.

To start with, they filled in the small gap between the Fever and Treasure series by exploring how they, Ateez and the Black Pirates, managed to break out Yeosang after he was captured by the Android Guardians at the end of Deja Vu/the Fever Pt. 3 Diary Entries since the only canon thing we know about this event is from Say My Name and this one section from the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries:

"Somebody please get me out of here! Please!" The light that I hadn't seen for ages slid in when the door opened. Men in black fedoras were fighting with Android Guardians behind the opened door. "Hey, Yeosang." I heard a warm voice calling my name. A guy came near my glass room and pulled down his black mask. Tears of relief burst out of my eyes. It was Seonghwa.

We open on Yeosang in the glass prison during the Full Moon (meaning reality jumping is possible with the Cromer right now so Ateez can switch over from A to Z World)

One of the Android Guardians walks in and the camera moves to the moon where we get to see the Cromer in action (sand disappearing from the bottom, indicating it's flowing up like we saw in the Diary Film)

Seonghwa, holding the Cromer, then appears in Yeosang's cell (small deviation from Yeosang's diary entry but I'll take it)

Yeosang and Seonghwa then, together, turn the Cromer again, causing Yunho to appear who immediately starts fighting the Android Guardian

After distracting the Guardian for long enough, Yunho pushes him away and runs off, leaving the Guardian to turn around and realize the cell is empty - Yeosang escaped

Following this, we move right on to Answer and that one iconic meeting where Ateez and the Black Pirates got together and formally established an alliance - they're even on the same sides

We then see Hongjoong walking along during his verse while, behind him, people in different get ups are throwing each other guns, etc., indicating the spread of the movement we later read about in the Movement Diary Version: The Revolution

And then we get to the part where I first went "eh?" which made me realize I can't see this performance being fully canon:

San, during his verse, tries to run off but Wooyoung grabs him, clutching him by the jacket, to stop him from leaving

But it doesn't work - San's made up his mind

He holds eye contact, yes, indicating they would've exchanged words if this weren't a song (likely something along the lines of "Stop, don't do this, it's suicide!" and "I have to, I'm sorry.") before he removes Wooyoung's hand from his jacket and runs off-

- and literally hurls himself at an Android Guardian - presumably sacrificing himself by knocking them both off this ledge for the sake of protecting the others

Then we've got Jongho fighting an Android Guardian while Hongjoong is blindfolded and gets captured by four more

Jongho wins his fight (potentially) and makes his way to the grand staircase where he receives a crown on the way up, only to hold it out and toss it aside once he makes it to the top

However, I'm quite certain this isn't related to the lore at all but rather the concept of the show which wants all groups to compete for the crown and see each other as opponents

Ateez refused to align with this idea - they wanted to make their time on the show about friendship and collaboration, having fun, which is very obvious when you watch their performance of The Real

But to really drive this point home: the song "An die Freude" ("To: Joy" as in it's addressed to Joy), which is being sung here by a guest performer, is actually a famous Germany poem by Friedrich Schiller, and an ode all about an idealistic society in which everyone is connected through joy and friendship

While this is being sung, Ateez, the Black Pirates, and the Android Guardians are all dancing together - a truly idealistic and unrealistic outcome far removed from reality but one that wouldn't have required the loss of life we just saw with San throwing himself off a ledge and Hongjoong getting surrounded and captured

The implication is clear: in a world where everyone treats each other kindly, a world without oppression, peaceful coexistence is 100% possible

But in a world of injustice, of oppression, the loss of life, the deaths of some of the kindest people, are inevitable because the ones who are oppressed will always rise up to free themselves of their shackles, even when they know some of them will have to die to make it happen

In conclusion: I think the performances do hold lore beats but they're not fully canon and the lore gaps they fill in are small enough that I always thought it was easier to toss them entirely than to potentially confuse anyone by telling them to disregard some aspects and embrace others. I hope this helps!

[justrainandcoffee]

Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) 2x02

Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games Crossover

First Part Masterlist - Second Part Masterlist → 2x01

Summary: Jack's and Aurora's fate after the games is revealed. Alfie meets Aberama Gold and Campbell but after a month and without any notice about Rose, his spirits are very low. || After bombs, not all people that stayed in district 12 are dead.

Warnings: Mentions of death.

Words: 2.6 K. || Thanks to my mutuals to lend me their OCs.

The fucking trackers.

Jack knew as soon as everything went black that he needed to act quickly.

"It's gonna hurt," he said to the girl before stabbing her with his knife in her arm to remove the microchip. Aurora screamed, but he didn't have time to comfort hurt. He removed hisown tracker the same way.

"Motherfucker," he growled, knocking a tree trunk with his own fist.

He still had his backpack, one that found in the Cornucopia and there he had a bottle, another two knives, rope and the ridiculous compass that an anonymous sponsor sent to him.

Eva wasn't there, he hoped (he really hoped) that the hovercraft he saw was one of District 13.

Aurora wasn't able to walk, much less run but he forced her. He had to, because it was better the pain that than being in Snow's hands.

Aurora was crying but she followed Jack because she was terrified. And the man's attitude didn't help at all. He was tall, strong and with a very unfriendly face. It's true that during the first moments in the Arena and since she sprained her ankle he took care of her, but after all those hours she was tired, thirsty and very confused. Both her ankle and arm hurt and she was bleeding.

"Follow the north" said the note along the compass. What the hell was in the North, Jack had no idea but at that point he was just improvising.

Without the electric dome, they were able to cross the arena. It was a miracle that the Capitol didn't put a bullet in their heads yet, but probably it was because everything there was a chaos and because without the tracker they probably believe they were on their way to District 13.

Jack found an abandoned house after two days in middle of nowhere. He was aware that the girl needed a place or she was going to die. They still had the wetsuit and it was terrible uncomfortable. Maybe the house was barely better than the exterior but a roof was roof. And it had a fireplace what allowed him to start a fire and an old wooden chest provided them with clothes. The bed was in worst conditions than the house itself but it could support Aurora's weight. Jack just laid on the floor both of them slept almost 24 hours.

The next four days they didn't move from there. Jack was able to hunt and rain gave them precious water.

It wasn't until the fifth day there that Jack saw something that caught his eye. The grass around the house started to move like there was an invisible propeller moving it. Jack knew what it meant. He forced Aurora to hid under the bed and he grabbed the biggest knife they had. Could he kill a bunch of peacekeepers with guns and highly trained in combat? He didn't know, but he was going to try.

Instead of a military equipment and men, from the inside of the house he heard a very familiar voice. But remembering the jabberjays, he didn't move.

"It's now or never," another voice said "the capitol is coming, too."

Jack opened the door and few metres away from him there was a small hovercraft, now visible, and he could see Eva's face in the door. It was her, of course it was her. Jack told Aurora that it was safe and both ran towards the ship.

The moment that Jack and Aurora were rescued marked the eighth day after the Quarter Quell.

.

Thanks to Samuel, Alfie was able to get out the hospital two days after waking up. His healthy eye was able to tolerate the light again and antibiotics were enough to keep his injury healthy. As for the pain, Alfie wanted nothing to do with morphling, so they gave him just painkillers. They weren't equally effective but it was better for his brain.

His brother-in-law was wheeling him across the district. Even when he didn't see him yet, Campbell assigned him a single compartment next to Samuel's.

"Couples have another one," he said. "Bigger, I guess."

Alfie guessed there was where Eva and Jack went after his rescue the day before. He knew about his and Aurora's return thanks to Lucy who informed him about it. Maybe because he was willing to do the right thing for once, or because he was looking for something in return, Campbell allowed Eva to go with his soldiers in search of her husband.

Neither of them saw them since that moment. But it was easy to guess what they were doing. And for sure they deserved it.

As for Rose, there was no news. And the hopes to find her alive weren't high at all, but either of Alfie's friends said it out loud.

The tenth day in district 13 it was when finally Alfie met Aberama Gold. Rose's saviour, in her own words. He and Samuel were in his compartment when some knocks interrupted them.

"Who the fuck are you?" Alfie asked when his brother-in-law opened the door.

"Who the fuck am I?"

"What the fuck is this?"

"Alfie, this is Aberama Gold. I called him."

"Samuel, when a pikey walks in with hair like that. You have to ask yourself… Have I made a mistake? Was my Rosie high?"

"Alfie…" Samuel rolled his eyes. In a week he barely knew the man in front of him, but he understood very well the kind of personality he had.

"What should I expect from the man who said it was going to help my wife but he left her alone fucking devil knows where? Ya save your kid, and your fucking ass, right? Yes, you did."

"The plan was to put that bastards in the different Arenas and play with them, Solomons. It was never the idea to lose one of us. It was Rose decision to be there. And yet we rescued her feom the frozen forest. My daughter-in-law was in charge of the hovercraft where was Rose was in. They were heading here, but something happened in between and we lost communication. My son's girlfriend is missing too, so don't think I'm not looking for them, Solomons. But I have to be realistic that after 10 days…"

"They found Nelson two days ago, well and alive right?"

"Jack Nelson is a trained man."

"So you think she's dead. My wife. Get out of my fucking place, Gold."

"I don't know if she's dead, Solomons," said Aberama, opening the door "I said, it's a chance. And we need to be realistic."

"Get out."

As if he didn't think about it. The Shelbys were together, they always were. Now the Nelsons, too. But it was okay. Same as him, all four lived a hell and deserved a bit of happiness, especially considering that one of the couples had a little kid. But Alfie couldn't help but feel envy because District 13, same as the Capitol, only gave him misery. And along with the envy, it came the resentment and self hatred, because he couldn't do anything for his wife.

And all of that led him to self isolation.

The following two weeks, a total of month there, they barely saw Alfie and the only ones who really talk to him were Samuel and Nina but even them had problems to communicate with him.

And everything was worse after his friends were "blessed" for Campbell by giving them the rank of soldiers but since he couldn't train same as them because of his back, Campbell sent him to the kitchens because it was said that Alfie was a good cook.

There was the eldest victor of the group, not counting Aveline Young: from killing nine tributes with his own hands to peeling potatos for really useful people.

"You can't do that."

But depressed as he was, alone as he felt, his friends were determined to make his life a bit better.

Maybe because he was still guilty or because he considered Alfie his best friend, but Tommy Shelby was the first one, immediately after knowing it, that stood up in front of Campbell telling him that someone like Alfie, a victor, couldn't be in the kitchens like a normal citizen. Because even when he was incapable of fight, he still was one of them.

"If you are not in conditions of searching for his wife, then do something good for the man."

.

Even if he didn't need his wheelchair the whole time, Alfie used it anyway, especially to bother the soldiers who insisted in that he wasn't allowed to be in certain parts of the district.

"It's not my fault if you didn't build this fucking place for disabled people, mate. But I was informed that the beloved president wants to see me," he said.

A tall thin man, looked at him before using the intercom to ask for permission. Few moments later, Alfie was authorized to enter.

That was how after a month trapped there (he felt trapped), Campbell decided to talk to him.

"Please, Alfie, suit yourself" the president said offering him a comfortable chair. "I'm sorry it took me that long to talk to you but I've been busy. How are you feeling here?"

Alfie's dark blue eyes stared at him, asking him if he was joking about it or not.

"Like I am visiting the fucking paradise? Enjoying my fucking life."

Campbell breathed deeply before answering "I'm sorry, it wasn't a tricky question. I… things are really complicated, Alfie. We searched your wife around the area where the hovercraft was seen in the radar last time but we found nothing."

"Yes, you found," Alfie said still staring at him with cold eyes. "Didn't you find the rests of the hovercraft near district 10 or 11? I heard ya two nights ago while I was heading to my compartment. Let me reminder you your own words 'It was near a hill, half of it was on fire and the other looked like it exploded.'" Alfie continued talking, but feeling how rage was taking possession of his brain. "All of you are nothing but a group of incompetent assholes who solely purpose is to see who the fuck put their fucking ass in Snow's chair. Who's my Rosie when your balls are ready to dominate Panem and the rest of us? You're trying to seduce me with kind words promises of fucking what? I shit in your words, Campbell. Now if you excuse me, I have food to prepare. To feed your ass."

"It's true," Campbell admitted before Alfie could leave the room "We found the hovercraft. And two bodies. One belonged to the pilot and the other was a young woman. But we're sure it wasn't your wife because she's described as a short person and the body was taller than her. If your wife was in that ship, she managed to escape."

Everything disappeared. Houses, people, small shops… the Capitol destroyed everything she knew. There was no district 12 anymore. Her home. Their home.

Dorothy Brown and her little daughter, Allie, survived thanks that their house wasn't in the Seam itself but farther. There were rebels there, Dorothy heard, but to say the truth, there were rebels everywhere not just there but Snow decided that it was a good place to threw his bombs. And like a house of cards, everything was gone.

"We have to go, Allie."

"Can Ms. Boo come with us?" The girl asked showing her an old teddy bear.

The young woman nodded while Allie packed some things in her own little rucksack. Dorothy had no other option but to steal canned food from the victors village, the last place around District 12 that still existed.

Dorothy packed a letter and put it in Allie's bag. If anything happened to them, at least they're going to know their names and who they were.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Let's go then, Allie."

District 12 wasn't their home anymore, if they wanted a chance to survive they had to go to district 13. It wasn't what the Capitol made them believe for a lot of years, district 13 existed and was more alive than never before. Or that was what Dorothy wanted to believe.

The moment they crossed the border that separated the forest from the district itself, the mother felt safe.

"There's a doggy," exclaimed Allie five days later. The route through the forest was harder than Dorothy imagined and she was incredible tired, even if they stopped to sleep and eat.

Allie, once clean and tidy, now had the hair dirty and had cuts in arms and legs. But she didn't protest.

"A doggy?"

"Yes! There!"

Dorothy's followed with her eyes the direction where her daughter was pointing and indeed she saw a dog. Big and brown was approaching them moving his tail. It seemed friendly and well fed. Dorothy asked herself if the dog had owners or survived hunting squirrel or maybe rabbits. The latest seemed to be more possible because after all those days in the forest she didn't see a single person.

His collar indicated that his name was Cyril.

The dog sniffed Dorothy first and then Allie. The girl hugged him, laughing and Cyril licked her little face.

It started to rain when Dorothy found a cave to spend time there until it was over.

For someone extrovert as Allie was, the lack of interaction with other people was affecting her. Her friends the ones who she used to play weren't there anymore. Neither were the kind neighbours around her house. And sadly, her mother not always wanted to talk. That's why Cyril was more than welcomed by the little girl because even if the dog couldn't talk, he seemed to be ready to listen to her and her adventures in district 12.

The rain stopped after two days. The mockingjays singing were a blessing for Dorothy who was anxious to see the sun again. Her stomach growled. She didn't eat much the last days because she gave part of her portion to her daughter.

"You need to stay here," Dorothy said to Allie.

"Mommy!"

"Listen, sweetheart, we're running out of food and I'm sure there're berries trees here. I need to collect them so we can eat. Maybe I can find a little animal to accompany them. Cyril will take care of you. Just a couple of hours, yes? I can't take you with me because it's dangerous, there's mud everywhere and you can hurt yourself. Tomorrow morning we continue our journey. You need to obey me."

"Okay, mommy."

Dorothy kissed her daughter's forehead and left her the blanket they shared and the remaining food. Cyril was lying next to Allie when she saw her once last time before searching for berries. But most of all, she needed to hunt something.

The thing is the Capitol was hunting, too and didn't take them long until they saw a solitary woman in the forest. So they shot.

Next

[painting-warhammer]

Magus in the style of Queen (Deltarune)

Definitely a messier one, and a drop in quality. Really just the result of me wanting to have a fun figure I did on the side for a series I'm obsessed with. Commentary under cut.

For practice figures, literally what I will do is just go through the Games Workshop store, see a figure and then realize "holy crap... I could paint this like [_____] from a series I like!", or in other words, how every Warhammer fan over 40 paints their Tyranids as the xenomorphs. It ends up being the equivalent of a mini-painting "doodle" or "warmup" in between working on the "real" army. I don't really think about or worry over making a larger "thematically connected" army.

What's kinda sad is that, with Queen in particular, I actually did buy another Genestealer Cultist figure with the intent to paint them as a Deltarune character. I have a primed Abominant that I was planning to paint as Lancer and the King.

Even separately from that, I considered having Lancer on his bike as an Atalan Jackal. But you'd have to get a full set of five, and honestly I just want the one popping a wheelie.

Not to mention, goddammit, that now I actually have Green Stuff. I shouldn't have primed them! I could have connected the hammer to his stomach and made the spade... at the very least, I should have given them their coneheads. Damn.

Anyways, Queen. Not a lot to say, you can see paint going over the lines and somehow only the wineglass-turned-staff is the only good looking part. I didn't busy myself too much with details and I think this was unfinished; I don't remember what state I considered this to be in when I last touched it a year ago. I might give some shade to the gown and the head, and boots and cowl deserve an edge highlight or two. Apologies to trypophobes when it comes to whatever the fuck my primer did to the inside of her thigh...

It's also to kinda say fixing her up is not my top priority. I finally have enough figures in my actual army to play the game (this took LITERALLY three years) so that's where my focus is going to be. That's not to say no forever, but it is to say TTFN.

What I was really hyped about was the base. I took a copy of Fairly Oddparents: Breakin' Da Rules for Game Boy Advance, an absolutely awful Megaman clone that will not be missed. and then sanded it down until it was just small enough to be based. I drew with a marker the relative circumference I had to get it to. I suppose I could have freehanded the wires but I'm sick of my bases being dirt and debris, I wanted something nice. Only problem was the glue gun definitely made a big ol' gap between the base and the basing.

I think most of the fun of this one was daydreaming about how this fits in the 40K universe. Her standing on a microchip is probably impossible, that's only a factor of her being the size of one in real life, but who knows. I imagine that she's from a Genestealer Cult that had infected a Forgeworld, specifically. I think there are gameplay mechanics to venerate a bug version of the Omnissiah? Don't know for sure.

That's all for now! If you have started following me or read my other posts, thank you for all the notes across all of them. It's very humbling; I really don't think these are very good and I think any goodwill is based on who they are rather than any ability/talent rendering those people. The next few posts are going to be my actual army and the lore I wrote up for them, but that doesn't mean that's the end of the "[Warhammer Character] in the style of [Thing From Franchise]" posts. I have three that are started and unfinished, and I might do touchups or even outright re-dos of the previous ones I've posted. Thank you for your support. I don't do this for cash [what Warhammer fan can?] or clout so getting even a like has been very encouraging and flattering.

[blandandtasteless]

Immortal snail question be upon ye. 

You and a super intelligent snail both get 1 million dollars, and you both become immortal, however you die if the snail touches you. It always knows where you are and slowly crawls toward you. What's your plan?

With a million dollars get the snail welded into a cast iron orb and keep it with me at all times.

Theoretically, immortality and infinite time will let you take risks and generate infinite wealth, so when I’m wealthy enough, shoot my snail into the sun. That gives me a few billion years until it moves anywhere, and it won’t be near me. <- is the wrong answer, cause sun will explode losing track of snail, I need to shoot it at a black hole which won’t kill the snail but the snail can never leave, at least until the Schwartzchild radiation renders the black hole deleted, by which time we’re talking heat death of the universe. <- this is also a wrong answer however because I would wanna die sometime before then… Iron Ball it is!

I keep him in an iron ball in my house and microchip the ball and get ball remade every now and then. And when possible, put the ball in a box in the middle of nowhere under constant surveillance from me (this is post-get-a-lot-of-money) just me, you can’t trust anyone else to take the stakes as serious as yourself.

THE FINAL PROBLEM is living long enough to want to die from dissatisfaction with immortality, whilst also keeping hold of the snail at a distance in your mind which is far enough away to forget about it whilst also always being able to access it when you want to move it. The stakes cannot possibly be higher than: If I fail, I must endure eternity.

The snail is like a gun. Anyone can kill themselves at any time with a gun, but I’ve only got this gun, so I’ve gotta carry it with me every day I don’t plan to kill myself for the one day that I do.

[eroticcannibal]

So who actually supports home education?

Idiots whose only experience of alternative forms of education is reddit posts made by survivors of the worst cases and cult documentaries may think its all "the guvment gonna take my guns and microchip me" types but what is the reality?

There of course will always be an amount of weirdoes, but these are not representative.

A huge proportion of those who home educate do it because of an understanding of child development and education methods. Unfortunately how schools educate does not match up with the science on how kids learn best. Many know this from experience as a large amount of home educaters are *teachers*. When you know better, you do better, and home education allows you to follow the science.

A significant amount have to withdraw their children from school due to the schools failing. This is not ideological, this is survival. Neurodivergent kids, kids with complex medical needs, and increasingly in the past few years, kids with or who's family members have immune disorders. A child cannot learn if their needs are not being met. Schools often resist meeting these needs for ideological or financial reasons, and LAs can be uncooperative for financial reasons.

Due to either dissatisfaction with schools generally on ideological grounds or as a result of rising high control environments in schools, parents may opt out due to beliefs. Some of these may be more right wing beliefs, but a lot, especially more recently, are due to more leftist beliefs. Many, even those of centrist and right wing beliefs, have always taken issue with the role of schools, be it a vague "they don't care about my kid, they only care about creating a worker" or actually naming the problem (capitalism). Schools will always reflect the government, which is a concern for many as a government becomes more facist. Many kids right now are being pulled due to the increasing anti-trans sentiment, either out of fear of what their child will learn or simply because their child is trans and not safe.

Curriculum can also be a reason people prefer home ed. A school curriculum must somewhat support all students, as well as the social and ideological goals of the government. A home ed curriculum caters entirely to the child.

Minority groups may often end up in home education due to other ingredients and lack of access. Travelling families may prefer to educate their children themselves rather than deal with changing schools. There are also many cases where attempts to address social issues due to perceived or actual extremism in religious communities further pushes these religious families away from the wider community.

Many people truly believe in the value of community, and see schools as robbing their children of the chance to truly be a part of their communities. Real world learning is incredibly popular and quite obviously not isolationist in nature.

Some lifestyles simply do not support schooling. Families who move a lot for work, children working in creative fields etc

And there are schools refusers. All kids deserve an education, even those who won't go to school. Kids are being driven to drug use and suicide by school environments. They are being bullied, physically assaulted and sexually abused. Parents in these situations just want their children to be safe.

The reasons people home educate are numerous and complex, and usually very good. The bad ones are not many. They just make better stories, so you hear about them more.

[foreverlogical]

Expanded overtime guarantees for millions

First over-the-counter birth control pill to hit U.S. stores in 2024

Gun violence prevention and gun safety get a boost

Renewable power is the No. 2 source of electricity in the U.S. — and climbing

Preventing discriminatory mortgage lending

A sweeping crackdown on “junk fees” and overdraft charges

Forcing Chinese companies to open their books

Preventing another Jan. 6

Building armies of drones to counter China

The nation’s farms get big bucks to go “climate-smart”

The Biden administration helps broker a deal to save the Colorado River

Giving smaller food producers a boost

Biden recommends loosening federal restrictions on marijuana

A penalty for college programs that trap students in debt

Biden moves to bring microchip production home

Tech firms face new international restrictions on data and privacy

Cracking down on cyberattacks

Countering China with a new alliance between Japan and South Korea

Reinvigorating cancer research to lower death rates

Making medication more accessible through telemedicine

Union-busting gets riskier

Biden inks blueprint to fix 5G chaos

Biden empowers federal agencies to monitor AI

Fixing bridges, building tunnels and expanding broadband

The U.S. is producing more oil than anytime in history

Strengthening military ties to Asian allies

A new agency to investigate cyberattacks

Making airlines pay up when flights are delayed or canceled

READ THE DETAILS HERE

I'm going to add one more here

[ink-flavored]

Hiiiiii I have 📱, 🤔, 🖖, ❓ from your scifi themed ask game for youu °u° Thank you for making all of these as games btw, it's SO useful for worldbuilding!

thank u for the ask, and for enjoying my games!! i love making them :3

I will answer these for my Space Cruise WIP!

📱What’s the state of communication technology in your WIP? Do people communicate through their microchipped brains, or is a cell phone still the best way to get a hold of someone?

Not quite at brain chips yet, but we're past phones too! Most people carry around or wear infoscreens on their sleeves. I know it's a hologram phone/computer thing attached to a little metal stick that projects said hologram and can be clipped onto/sewn into clothes, but I have not ironed out all the details yet

When it comes to translating alien languages, there is quite an advanced technology for that. The translators that Kavi wears on both their ears are sort of like if a bluetooth earpiece was awesome. It's a little strip of metal that gets glued inside your ear (with medical grade adhesive or something idk) without blocking the hole, and can translate everything you hear in real time. It hears the words before they reach you due to soundwaves or whatever, and blasts the translation into your ears instead. It can take a little bit to get used to the fact that people's mouths aren't moving in sync with the words you're hearing, but it's a small price to pay for Understanding.

The translator can also be paired with whatever infoscreen you have, and you can mess with the settings of how specific words get translated and such

🤔What kind of technology is still being developed in your WIP? What’s something they’re still trying to figure out?

I answered this one already here! But I'm sure I can come up with more...

Laser guns aren't a thing, at least not for the average person. The only kind of laser/ray weaponry that exists is under lock-and-key in military files, and are so huge they can only be attached to spaceships or tanks. They're working on a smaller scale version of those lasers, but ONLY for military reasons. The power is too great for civilian hands etc. etc. you can totally trust the military with this power don't even worry about it

🖖Did the aliens reach out to humanity first? Why?

So humans and aliens got into contact sort of on accident?

Humans were chugging along, looking for a planet to park their spaceship on, and the aliens pulled alongside us in their spaceship and then this happened

To get another kick out of this, the aliens were in the equivalent of a BMW and the humans were in our dad's 2007 Honda Civic.

Humans were like "WOOOOO SAPIENT LIFE EXISTS WE DID IT YIPPEEEEE" and the aliens went "oh my god these little things need so much help"

❓What took humanity’s place on Earth, if anything?

There are still humans on Earth! Either the descendants of people who refused to leave when space exploration became a thing, or people who have returned to humanity's ancestral home to Find Themselves 🙏

It's not a very popular place to live, and the people who stuck around were considered either regressives or "so progressive they horseshoe theory'd themselves back to being regressive" but the people who stuck around have plenty more reasons than "we don't wanna" for staying on Earth (although those groups do exist, and hate aliens quite a bit). Money, access, power, fear of the unknown, and fear that another planet like Earth will be squandered before humanity has even finished cleaning up the first one.

[try out my sci-fi worldbuilding ask game]