#my_writing

[skepsiss]

Petition to have more Steddie writers, have Eddie call Steve "leman."

It's literally the Medieval version of "sweetheart" and it's pronounced "lemon" so unless it's on paper, people will just think Eddie is calling Steve lemon. Eddie is a giant freaking nerd and would do something incredibly dorky like this.

[maya-tl]

Gentle Surgery got me on a chokehold ngl. Maybe Spy goes to check on Medic after he's been staying in his lab and it's past 3 am and he hasn't been seen all day.

Anyway love your works and I hope you have a good day~

The first thing Spy noticed upon walking into the dining room for breakfast—fashionably late, of course—was that Medic’s spot at the table was empty.

Scout was already trying to fight over the sausages with Soldier and possibly Sniper as well, who appeared to realise how completely outmatched he was but was still trying his hardest not to get stabbed by a stray fork. Engineer was too busy stuffing eggs into his mouth to chastise them for their table manners and everyone else was either half-asleep or actively snoring into their cereal bowls.

Spy wrinkled his nose in distaste and thumped Demoman on the back as he passed by, who spluttered and immediately started coughing up the milk he’d inhaled. Spy poured himself a steaming mug of coffee and took his seat next to Heavy, who was staring murderously at his burnt toast.

“Unpleasant morning?” Spy asked without looking, and Heavy grunted.

“Soldier patrolled last night,” he said by way of explanation, “Was loud. Did not sleep well.”

Spy hummed as he buttered his own untoasted bread and decided against making a snarky remark on how he wouldn’t have known that, since his own room was soundproof. At least it explained why everyone looked dead on their feet, and quite possibly Medic’s absence, though Spy couldn’t know for sure until he asked; Medic was usually quite punctual, in spite of the fact that he liked to spend his nights working away on his experiments and got little to no sleep.

Spy had casually questioned him about his sleeping schedule once and Medic had simply shrugged and said that there were things to be done and breakthroughs to be had, which were statistically more likely to happen during the night. When Spy had raised an eyebrow and asked him to elaborate on his sources, Medic had laughed in his face.

So Spy left Heavy to glower in peace and assumed the good doctor would show up for lunch. He ate his bread with butter and jam, added a pinch of sugar in his coffee and treated himself to a vanilla brioche from his secret stash. He made a mental reminder to bring his sapper to Engineer’s workshop later as he washed his plate and nodded to his teammates on his way out, ignoring Scout struggling to get out of the headlock Soldier had him in.

Since there were no battles scheduled that day, everyone went about relaxing in their own way, which for Spy included barricading himself in his smoking room with a good book and a fine wine. The hours passed swiftly, and Spy eventually opened the windows to air out the room and made his way to lunch.

It was Pyro’s turn on the stove, who could surprisingly cook up a storm when they weren’t messing with the settings in order to see how high the fire could burn. Spy didn’t recognise whatever they’d put on the table, but it did look appetising enough and ended up tasting delicious, if a bit too spicy for his taste.

He did notice halfway through the meal that Medic still hadn’t shown up and stated as much to Heavy, who frowned at the empty chair. He speculated that Medic might be working on something and reluctantly agreed to bring a tray of leftovers to the infirmary afterwards—Medic didn’t tolerate interruptions very well, even if they were well-intentioned.

Spy had pushed aside his concerns and decided to trust that Heavy wouldn’t let Medic starve. Everyone knew how well they got along and how much Heavy fretted over his teammates’ wellbeing—a leftover habit from looking after his sisters all his life, Spy knew.

So he ate his lunch and then went into town to help Engineer shop for weekly supplies. He himself had been planning on getting a new shoe polish and perhaps a new set of wine glasses. His old ones had dwindled in number over the last months due to his unfortunate decision to lend them to Demoman for game night, which had resulted in their being used to create what Scout had dubbed ‘the world’s shittiest champagne tower’ and ultimately shattering on impact when Soldier had drunkenly dived into them to take a ‘champagne bath’.

They hadn’t even used a decent brand of champagne for it. Needless to say Spy wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

By the time they returned and busied themselves with unloading the van, Spy had nearly forgotten about Medic’s suspicious absence. Heavy was nowhere to be seen, so Spy assumed that he’d gotten Medic to eat and decided to camp out in the infirmary for some peace and quiet, since someone was blasting the radio at full volume from somewhere inside the base. He’d picked up his sapper, thanked Engineer for his service, and returned to his smoking room to finish the book he’d started.

And then dinner came and Medic was still nowhere to be found.

“Door to infirmary was open,” Heavy said in-between bites of steak when Spy questioned him on whether he’d seen the doctor at all, “But door to lab was closed. Assumed doctor was busy, left tray with food on the table.”

Heavy had turned away to compliment Pyro on the mashed potatoes, and then Sniper had joined the conversation, and of course Scout had been chattering away the entire time, so the topic of Medic was soon dropped. Spy ate in silence, brow furrowed, and didn’t even react when the others had to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on Soldier because he choked on a bone.

He offered to wash the dishes simply to take his mind off things, even if Engineer did stare at him like he’d grown a second head and asked him to repeat himself, and ignored the background noise of the team making up some new card game to play before bed. The rushing water brought him little comfort and the sharp scent of the dish soap stuck to his suit, which only further soured his mood. When he was done he tossed away the gloves and marched back to his room without so much as waving goodnight to everyone still hanging around in the living room.

Instead of going to sleep he adjusted his tie, strapped on his cloaking watch and slipped into Medic’s room.

The curtains were drawn, casting the room in partial shade, but the lamp on the far desk was on, shining dimly. The floor was clean and the bed was made, though the closet had been left half-open and the air was stale, indicating that no one had opened any windows in quite some time. Spy knew Medic tidied up regularly, but this went beyond that—the room looked almost unlived in, and when Spy touched the lamp on the desk he found it burning to the touch.

Spy tapped his fingers on the desk, weighing his options, and eventually reached over and turned it off. The only possible explanation for the lamp being on was that Medic had gone back to his lab in the middle of the night and hadn’t returned yet, and he’d forgotten to turn off the light in the middle of the rush. The thought made Spy tap his fingers harder the longer he waited.

Heavy wasn’t a very skilled liar and knew better than to lie to him of all people besides, so Spy had to assume that he’d indeed taken food to the infirmary and left it there when Medic hadn’t come out to greet him. But had he gone to check if the food had been touched afterwards? Had he knocked on the doors to the lab or listened for any noise that might indicate Medic was inside? Had he even thought to check for Medic in his room? On the balcony? In the gun range?

Spy came back to himself only to realise the room had gone pitch black. He checked his watch.

It was fifteen minutes past 3 am.

He didn’t even stop to close the door on his way out. The halls were silent, meaning everyone else was either asleep of holed up in their rooms, with the notable exception of Engineer whom Spy could hear welding something together as he passed his workshop. The doves startled awake when Spy barged into the infirmary and started crooning at him in displeasure, and he had no choice but to pause for a few minutes to calm them down—he hadn’t spent months earning their trust only to give them something to hold a grudge against now.

That and Medic wouldn’t approve of him upsetting his darling birds just because he was in a hurry.

The tray of food was still on the desk and completely untouched, as Spy had predicted, and the doors to the lab were not only closed, but locked from the inside. Good thing Spy was, among many other things, an expert at picking locks.

He had to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lights inside, but once his eyes got used to them he noticed that the room was more of a mess than usual. There were tools and papers scattered everywhere, drawers and cabinets left open, muddled jars of questionable contents and airtight containers that were usually carefully arranged on the shelves now in disarray. Spy stepped over a blueprint that had definitely been borrowed from Engineer and nearly slipped on a page that had likely been ripped from an old medical journal.

There was a flutter of wings next to his ear and a small weight landed on his shoulder. Spy huffed a private little laugh.

“Hello, Archimedes,” he said, reaching up to pet him before Archimedes could peck at his mask like he always did when Spy didn’t greet him right away. Archimedes crooned softly and leaned into his touch, then casually started grooming himself after Spy lowered his hand.

“Ah,” Spy said quietly as he rounded the operating table, “There he is.”

Medic was sitting next to one of the counters, gloves and coat tossed haphazardly at his feet, a stack of books by his left and a microscope to his right. His cheek was pressed against an open notebook, his glasses crooked, and he was snoring softly, fast asleep.

Spy came up to him and snapped his fingers next to his ear. When that garnered no reaction he grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him gently, then more forcefully, until Medic finally stirred. Spy watched him unstick his face from the paper and sluggishly push himself off the counter, then groan at the bright lights, pinching the bridge of his nose and further dislodging his glasses.

Spy, who had been quite prepared to deliver a scathing lecture, suddenly couldn’t muster up the vitriol.

“Busy night, doctor?” he said anyway, just to see how Medic would react.

Medic startled and squinted his way. Blinked a few times. Seemed to finally recognise that it was Spy standing in front of him, and also seemed baffled to see Archimedes staring back at him from his shoulder.

“Mhuh?” he said, eloquently.

Spy snorted, unable to stop himself. He reached out and rubbed his thumb over Medic’s cheekbone, trying very hard to ignore the way his heart fluttered when Medic, still drowsy, instinctively leaned into his touch.

“You have ink stains on your face,” Spy said.

“Mhm,” Medic replied, and instead of reaching up to wipe off said ink stains simply wrapped his hand around Spy’s wrist and leaned even further into his touch.

Spy sighed, but didn’t pull away. His questions could wait until the morning. “Come now, let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, “There will be time for your experiments another day.”

Medic grumbled something under his breath, already half-asleep again, but went willingly, letting Spy guide him around the clutter and leaning on him as they navigated the halls together. They left Archimedes with the other doves and made it to Medic’s room without incident, safe for them bumping into Engineer as he was leaving his workshop.

Engineer had nodded at Spy and Spy had nodded back, and that had been that, a silent agreement that this encounter had never happened.

Spy wiped the ink off Medic’s face with a wet handkerchief and carefully tucked him in, making sure to place his glasses safely on the nightstand. As he made to go something pulled him back down, and he saw Medic watching him through half-lidded eyes, his hand fisted into Spy’s suit jacket. Spy sighed, too tired to argue, shed his jacket and his shoes and his mask and elbowed Medic out of the way as he wiggled under the covers.

Medic pulled him in by the waist and murmured something into his hair, and Spy smiled against his skin when he made out the words.

“Danke, mein schatz.”

[pleasantcandystarfish]

“ My God, this geographical spot has become darker than the belly of the whale, so there is no god but You, Glory be to You. Indeed, I was of the wrongdoers ”

🖋️ Written by : @reda.bakrim

#redabakrim

#reda_bakrim

#psico_terapique_officiel

#studio_reda_bakrim

#رضى_باكريم

#كتابات_رضى_باكريم

#إقتباسات_رضى_باكريم

#قراءات_رضى_باكريم

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#كتابات

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#كتابات #كتابات #كتاباتي_ #كتاباتي_خواطري #اقتباسات

#my_writing

#writing

#ecrivan

#photo

#pictureedits #picturebooks #picture_to_keep_nature #pictureframes #picturebyme #picturebooksaremyjam #picturedisc #picturedrocks #pictureday #pictureoftoday

https://instagram.com/reda.bakrim?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

[yddraigwyllt]

I’m finished SUDDENLY 40-pages (-ish, it hasn’t been edited yet) fic about... *dramatic drums* PRESSLINGTON! *cheering, applause* No one expected this, and I’m first of all.

[jonnestt]

a necessary call

Telephone beeping… click click. An unknown voice answers: “Hello, you’re talking to the reception at coil con., how can I help you today?” “Hi, yea. Johannes my name,” I explain, “I’m gonna have to talk to your contractor... uhm, Coffeein for a moment.” “Johannes?” they exclaim asking, before saying, “I’m sure they’re gonna have time for you. I’ll put you on hold for a second.” and returning me into the long beep of an empty line.

Only a few moments later the vague clickings of a receiver being picked up ring through. They are being followed by a coarse yet ambiguous voice: “Yes, Coffein here, what’s the reason for your call?”  “Heeey, Coff-Coff,” I jump in, which they audibly reject, before I pick up the sentence “you do remember the terms of our contract, right?” “Uhm... yea,” they answer “you take a constant supply of my hands and in exchange you’ll be able to take full advantage of our faculties.” “Yeea, that’s about the gist.” I reply satisfied, ”But there is a teeny tiny problem on your end if I judge correctly?” “Hm, what's that?” They ask, leading me to explain: “I’ve not received enough product to satisfy demand over here since 2018.” A short break. Tiredly they exclaim: “And you’re calling now?” “Don’t you come with that!” I retort, “You know there was an emergency.” leading to another moment of silence. Using this time to collect myself and reformulate my demands: “Listen. Either y’all gonna give me my wakey juice or I’ll burn the bridge, capish?”  But they, unshook, reply cold: “Young man. Do you really think you can betray our contract like this?”  “As stated, you may take advantage of our faculties, nothing more, nothing less.” They explain again. Spurred on I reply: “And I’ll terminate that contract. A S A P.” “Did you not read it? You don’t have a quick way out.” They take a breath, “You’re either going to take me through court, and you know you don’t want that, or you’re going to take the long road of withdrawal. Or alternatively, you could simply honour the contract, and we’ll take your demands into our stakeholder analysis, how does that sound?” 

After a break, I sigh: “It seems, I’ll have to reassess my options.” Causing them to take over: “I’ll guess, you’ll call again once you’ve done that?” “So it seems.” I answer, “Have a great day.” “You too.” They reply and lower the receiver back onto their phone.

[skepsiss]

I wasn't allowed to talk about it or promote it before, but please check out this fic I wrote!!

I worked really hard on it, and I think I wrote a really good Wayne and I'd love for y'all to read how much Steve and Wayne LOVE Eddie 💗💞

This fic has a criminally low amount of hits for the amount of work I put in, so please give it a go 🙏

Title: Momento Mori

Author: Skepsis_Ree Artist: @the-aphelion-archives Beta: knormalizeknitting Characters:Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Eleven | Jane Hopper Relationship(s): Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Warnings: Mention of death, mention of suggested homophobia Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, back from the dead, Eventual Romance, Drama & Romance, Ghosts, Love Confessions, Supernatural Elements, Post Season 4, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Fluffy, Fluffy Ending Wordcount: 24,914 Summary:

Steve gradually falls in love with the memory of Eddie Munson, while creating a deep bond with the uncle Eddie left behind. Eddie Munson has died. He died and left behind people who care for him—more people than he knew. Despite his reputation, and the slander thrown at him, Eddie is deeply and fiercely loved by the people in his life. Wayne is one such person, and the hole his nephew left in his heart is something he didn’t think could ever be filled. Surprisingly—to all involved—Steve Harrington is another person who cannot shake Eddie’s death from his mind. Gradually, Steve and Wayne bond over their mutual loss, and share their fond memories of Eddie with one another. The living must move on after all… even if the dead don’t remain gone for long.

Momento Mori by Skepsis-Ree

art masterpost by the-aphelion-archives

[mercy-thought]

الإسلام حافظ على المرأة من خلال تسترها و وضع لها حدود لحمايتها من شرور الآخرين.... لكن بعضهن عكس هذا يريدون التحرر وهن لا يعلمن ان هذا ليس في مصلحتهم. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hashtag : #instagood #instagram #twitter #writting #my_writing #explore #anime #otaku #silentvoice #positivevibes #الايجابية #تحرر #مرأة #كتاباتي_الخاصة #رحمة #اكسبلور_فولو #اكسبلور #انمي #اوتاكو #انستقرام #كاتبة #بقلمي (à 'Aïn Taya, Alger, Algeria) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBWMkxpne5U/?igshid=1iv5e67s0fl45

[antenoracocytus]

الطين يملأ الشارع .. الساعة الثانية بعد منتصف الليل .. حيث الوقت متأخر جدا لوجود الأسر و الفتيات و مبكر جدا لوجود مصلي الفجر ..

الطين يملأ الشارع .. و الحثالة و السكارى يبدأون نوبات مجونهم ..

أنا ل��ت حثالة و لست سكير و لكني أيضا لا أسرة لي و لا أصلي الفجر ..

لنسمي حالتي إذا سقط مجتمعي .. أنا جنين مجهض ... أنا أنصاف حلول و أنصاف حالات .. أنا نصف بشر

البشر يخافون مني ...حتى الحثالة و السكيرة ...

عيني الواحدة تلمع في ضوء القمر و فمي المخوخ من الأسنان ينفرج عن ثقب كفم حوت .. أنا ككلاب الشوارع ..

البشر يخافون أما الكلاب فلا

أنا كلب و لكن ذهني لا يزال حاضرا لحسن حظي او لسوئه

تمر سيارة مسرعة يتقاظف منها الصياح وسط علو صوت المسجل ...

تمر محدثة طرطشات في برك المطر و المجاري

يعقبها رجل يسير مهرولا و هو يلتحف معطفه الذي يبدي من تحته ثوب الأطباء ..

هو طبيب إذا عائد من نوبته ليس زبونا

يتقاطع مع هرولته مراهق ينفث الدخان من فمه

جميعهم يمرون و أنا جالس أتحسس جيبي الثمين

يدعونني العراب ... و لكني لست عرابا هذا لقب فقط .. كباقي الألقاب السخيفة التي لا معنى لها

الإسم يفقد المرء هويته .. يحوله من كيان إلى مجموعة أحرف متراصة .. بعكس الأرقام

في السجن يعطونك رقما و سروالا أزرق و قميصا بنفس اللون ...

تتوه وسط دوامات القمصان الزرقاء الأخرى .. و مع ذلك تحافظ على هويتك .. على رقمك ..على كيانك المتفرد وسط باقي السجناء

في السجن حيث تسلب حرية الجسد .. تعود الروح حرة

الفتى المراهق يدور حول نفسه يتلفت يمنة و يسرى .. ينفث دخان سيجارته مرتعدا

أراه يقترب منى ببطئ ممزوج بحذر

يتفحص وجهي مرتعدا ..

"أأنت العراب"

لا ينتظر إجابة و يتابع حديثه متلعثما "أريد شريطي ترامادول"

أخرج من جيبي شريطا واحدا

ينظر إليه و لا يطالب بالآخر .. فقط يقول " لست مدمنا أنت تعلم .. أربده للمذاكرة أنت تعلم"

يكرر أنت تعلم و كأنها حقيقة كونية .. أنا أعلم شيئا .. أنه يلتمس عذرا لنفسه

هنا لا مكان للأعذار .. لا مكان للأحكام .. نحن هنا أخوة .. في عالم بعد منتصف الليل ..هنا لا تسري علينا قواعد البشر نحن حراس الجنان و زبانية جهنم ..نحن كلاب المطر.. نحن العرابون إن شئت أن تسمينا

أومئ له رفعا للحرج و عطفا على وجله .. يعطيني ورقة واحدة من فئة مئتين و بهرول بعيدا

[feneriareina]

Quiero hacer una cultura y un culto grandísimo sólo, usando casi solo literatura, música, dibujo y algunos videojuegos.

Quiero que se vuelva real para siempre

[skepsiss]

This is the art piece for my Big Bang Fic!!! Check out my poem and short story about Max 💞💞💞

id : a warm toned digital painting of robin and Max in front of a hilly landscape. Robin is riding a grey spotted horse facing right. She is wearing the top of a plate armour with the knees and calf protections. Her armour is decorated with sun imagery and golden filigree. Max is walking beside her, talking and gesturing, wearing a dark gambeson, a light shirt tied around her upper arms with laces ending in charms. She has on spiked leather forearm protections, similar protections on her thighs, and a yellow embroidered historical pocket. her double bladed awe is hanging down her back from her shoulder. They are traveling on a dirt path, fields and hills continuing behind them until they reach a pale blue cloudy sky. /end id

Drawing done for the reverse big bang which means the lovely @skepsiss wrote a fantastic story AND a poem which is so far beyond my skillset i can only applaud. Have fun reading Survival of the Sister!

[skepsiss]

Steve and Eddie being each other's first queer kiss, but they don't fall in love instantly with each other. It's real freaking awkward and they're both like "that was weird" and quietly move on.

But... they remain friends of course and as the years pass and partners come and go from their lives both Steve and Eddie (privately) are falling deeper and deeper in love with one another. It feels like something that will never work out, so neither of them act on it, but the more time they spend together the more they like one another. A love that is not on sight, but built through hours spent together and learning all of each other's complexities and flaws. That is what makes them fall in love with one another. That is what leads to 3am phone calls and goodbyes that take an hour. That is what will eventually lead to kiss number 2 which will topple into a real romance.

[maya-tl]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maedhros & Maglor (Tolkien), Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor, Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maedhros Characters: Elros Tar-Minyatur, Maedhros (Tolkien), Maglor (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Character Study, Complicated Relationships, References to the First Age of Arda (Tolkien), Kidnap Family | Elrond & Elros & Maedhros & Maglor as Family (Tolkien), Mentioned Elrond Peredhel Summary:

Elros reflects on his memories of those who raised him, now when he is long grown, and kingly and wise—and most important of all, mortal.

[piecake-dbd]

And if you needed proof That humans are a little crazy Well just look around At the show, at the train, in the crowd Little pocket universes, a million miles away Like ghosts passing by in an elaborate dance Waiting for just a little spark of excitement To draw their attention together

[fumi-gogo]

Mercy Left Behind

With the recent Retribution comic release, a lot of my story head-cannons are still in tact with the characters who end up in Talon are actually working to stop a corrupt overwatch leadership (Higher up than Morrison, such as Director Petras).

This is a short chapter but I wrote it as a quick set-up to the events that Angela experiences immediately following Retribution.

[CLICK HERE TO READ ON AO3]

I looked at the clock on the wall, it was nearly 3 AM; surely no-one else in the lab was awake. I stood and let out a groan as I stretched out the tense muscles in my body from top to bottom. I looked at the clock again, 3:01.

I collected a few loose research notes onto a clipboard and  made my way to the cafeteria for a snack. Humming to myself, I began thinking about the next steps to my work on medical nano-technology, the Overwatch research team had made amazing breakthroughs through the past months. Ways for metals and organic material to slowly regenerate on their own. It was hardly ready for any kind of practical field use, but we were getting there.

I turned a corner and saw that the lights were on in Dr. O’Deorain's old office, glancing through the frosted glass on the doors I could see two silhouettes.

Muttering under my breath, “Pardon…?” I pulled on the door handle.

There were hushed voices for a moment and then immediate silence. The closest individual was standing and facing away, but I immediately noticed Commander Reyes sitting on the exam table adjusting his shirt as if he had just put it back on.

“Ah, Doctor Ziegler.” The chilling, slow voice came from the tall standing figure.

Moira turned her head slowly to glance sideways at me. My stomach dropped, Ive never had a good feeling when she was around. She turned her head back towards the equipment next to her and threw something in a drawer and closed it.

Gabe hopped off the table and approached me, his calm smile putting me somewhat at ease again. “Angela! What are you doing up so late,” He pulled back Velcro on his wrist and checked the time. "Or so early? Wow, its 3 in the morning.”

“Oh, I was organizing research notes for the Valkyrie project. We’ve gone through so many revisions and changes, Its hard to not keep working.” I gestured to my clipboard. I looked back at Moira who was now approaching as well. She was so tall and slender and kept her hands behind her back like she was hiding something. “What are you doing here at the Swiss branch?"

Moira curled her lips and parted them to speak but Gabe interrupted. “I invited her here for some TS Blackwatch projects. We started working this afternoon but just lost track of time.”

My mind began racing and I felt extremely uncomfortable. Moira is infamous for her blurred ethics and has been reprimanded too many times to count with fingers. I wasn’t sure if experiments in the middle of the night for Blackwatch was better or worse with the program suspended at the moment.

“Why was I not consulted instead?” My eyes were locked with O’Deorain’s as I asked. I regretted the question as soon as she re-applied her fiendish smile. “I mean, Im Chief medical officer for this branch, this is the first I’ve heard of any Blackwatch projects.”

Gabe brushed a finger over his eyebrow and spoke up again. "Im so sorry, Angela. I can’t tell you anything right now. This is on a need-to-know, despite security clearances. The voices in charge have selected Dr. O’Deorain for this project."

I sighed. Gabe…You are the voice in charge for Black watch.

I took a step back into the doorway, taking my leave. “I understand, sorry for intruding. Commander Reyes, Dr. Odeorain.” I gave a small nod to each of them and turned out the door, hearing the smallest chuckle from Moira before the door closed. My face warming up and my heart beating faster, I swiftly made my way back to my office and locked the door. I clutched my chest and let my clipboard drop to the floor.

Oh my god. What is going on.

[jonnestt]

tech support

Telephone beeping… clickclick. An unknown voice answers: “Hello, tech support of thismortalcoil how can I help you?” “Hi, I’ve bought one of your products” I explain “about 21 years ago and I wasn’t aware that it comes with a contract… actually I’m pretty sure I wasn’t aware enough to Legally buy anything or sign any contracts back then. So, naturally I’d like to terminate that contract.” A moment of silence, then they answer: “Oh. I’m not sure if I can follow but I would gladly look into our system if we sold the product in question.” “Sure fam,” I answer “it is a ‘mortal coil’ model ‘human’ from the line ‘germany - earth - MW’ and then there are namings of galaxy clusters” They intervene “Those aren’t needed, we never serviced humans anywhere outside the milky way.” “So you do offer support for those.” I ask, which they quickly answer with “Yes, yes, of course. Now, I’d like to view your customer profile. Would you tell me the name of your MC?” “Sure, ‘Johannes Albert Berger’.” I lay open, which prompts typing sounds. “Berge… ahh, yes I see,” they answer “this one of a kind model came with, let’s see… Ah here, a membership to ‘social - germany 1990 plus’ and a use contract that allows full excess to neural systems in exchange obliges you to use the model for fourteen hours a day, each day for the entire time of ownership.” “Yea, exactly that contract, how do I terminate it?” I ask, “One second.” they urge, as they start clicking over their keyboard once again, “looks like the only way out is to terminate ownership permanently.” I recoil: “That can’t be right. Could I transfer ownership somehow?” “... With a human…” They think audibly, “I’m sure we have a program for that… although humans are currently not in high demand, you might need to find a new owner yourself.” “That’s going to be kinda hard” I explain in disaccord “considering I have to spend about 14 hours each day using the model.” “You might have wanted to think of that before acquiry.” They react. Which I refute saying: “I… I wasn’t conscious back then. There was literally no thinking to do for me.” before inhaling audibly and saying “Ok, do you have a legal department?” “We do take legal complaints,” they explain “but I’ll have to advice not to leave one.” “I should have a closed case here.” I retort, which they answer with “How so?” as if there was a blatant oversight in that statement. So of course I snap back in explanation: “Well, I wasn’t conscious when this contract was signed, therefore the contract must be null.” thou they counter effectively “Hm, we’ve had some similar complaints… especially this year but non got through.” Throwing me into a loop “That doesn’t seem correct…” “No, I can assure you” they answer, “it is. Legal action is entirely unnecessary.” “Fuck.” I reply. After a moment they ask: “Does that clear up all questions?” beat I give back “Yea, seems so… but, you seem rather open about things concerning your company.” “To help customers is my job, sir.” They answer, at which I respond with “Indeed.” before asking, “Would you tell me if there are any commonly used loopholes?” And surprisingly they answer, “As I said, to help customers is my job.” and continue “But sadly only ownership transfer seems possible based on my experience.” “That’s unfortunate…” sounds back my answer, “but it should have cleared all questions, thanks.” before I hang up.

[mercy-thought]

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