#nix watches films

[thenixkat]

Finally watched They Cloned Tyrone. Yeah, that was a good movie.

very interesting. Good use of anachronistic elements

liked the bits of mystery and surrealism. I think the comedic elements worked well and were a good balance to the fucked up elements

Also, I'm really happy that when Yo Yo said they had to help people she meant everyone, including the clones. Lotta works don't care about clones as people

[marcobodtseye]

GUYSSSSS LOOK WHAT I GOT

I love this movie with all my heart and I’ve already gone through this whole book so many times

FUUUFHHUHCK BEST 20 BUCKS IVE EVER SPENT. GOD

[nixerium]

I just watched The Woman in Black for the first time since I was 12 or 13 (for context we were watching it in English class, we’d won something book-related in school and got a free lesson)

I still firmly believe we shouldn’t have been watching it at that age - especially since the Wikipedia page says about the 12A rating at the time being controversial, as well as the fact it has a 15 rating on Google nowadays - but it sure isn’t scary now at 23

If anything it’s not even that good a film, but that’s just me probably

[kamjkaze]

Cal n Andre Halloween hcs to match the season 🎃🦇👻

Since Andre’s family is Jewish, growing up he was never allowed to celebrate Halloween. Any time that he would ask, his mother would lament about how they should have never moved to America where Halloween is so widely celebrated and so massively popular. Then, of course, she would scold him for wanting to do things that promote witchcraft, blah blah blah. Though, I imagine Andre’s father feeling a little bad and perhaps slipping the poor boy some (confirmed kosher) candy.

This idea, that Halloween was A. Not celebrated all over the planet and B. Was seen as “promoting witchcraft” by some was so outlandish to a young Cal.

I think one year, before the pair were old enough to nix the idea of trick or treating all together, probably the last year Cal himself would do it (in the desperate pursuit of cool), Andre would go with him. It was like his final gate into being completely American. Dressing up, probably as something edgy, grabbing a pillow case, and walking around neighborhoods begging for candy.

It’s ironic though, Andre didn’t really have any reason to go out and do it cause, at this age I think he lost his sweet tooth already. Though, it makes more for Cal, I think he has a shameful sweet tooth.

It’s a good memory for the both of them tho, Andre remembers coming back to the Gabriel family home and dumping out all his candy to sift through it. Cal’s siblings were in awe at the amount of candy they pulled in as a team. Their numbers in comparison were pathetic on account of Mrs. Gabriel demanding the kids come in earlier.

I think mrs Gabriel really enjoys helping her kids make costumes, whatever her kids demand she will supply. When cal was old enough to start asking for his own costume ideas, he always went as scary as he could. Blood drenched hair, big teeth, gashes, weapons. Whatever Cal’s mind could conjure as “the scariest costume ever” from the ages of 9 to 15.

Of course, that’s all as younger teens and children, as older boys, they do different things.

Call gets invited to the occasional party, usually on a good word by Rachel, and he attends for the most part. Always dipping out a little sooner than general populous but having a good time nonetheless. Usually he departs from these to go to Andres and comfort him about being the more socially ostracized out of the pair.

They’ll try to find some gorey ass snuff film to watch, get drunk, and steal some of the kids candy for Cal. I think they even get as “willing to have fun” as carving pumpkins, the results of those vary in level of skill and level of freakiness.

A cute idea is that one year, while they were too old to trick or treat but young enough to have some bones not made out of hate, they would bring Cal’s younger siblings into the basement for a little “haunted house” fun. Basically where Andre and Cal scared the shit out of them as much as possible. Be it, screaming in their face, grabbing them, whispering a spooookkkyyyy story before pouncing. If you go digging, there’s probably an old tape of it, Mrs. Gabriel will cherish that tape, that moment of innocence, of fun. I imagine there are many home videos like that, that she’ll watch on late nights after the tragedy.

[ultraericthered]

A tale of two evil Disney kings.

I put this out not to make any statement about how one villain compares to the other, but to compare how similar in the spirit and the details of their evilness these two are; the last straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie before the next decade and the first straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie we've gotten since.

And I also want to touch upon something that confounds me.

King Magnifico, despite the film teasing at him being a nuanced and even sympathetic character at first, ended up becoming a villain vile and irredeemably heinous enough to be upvoted as a Complete Monster on TV Tropes. Majority vote approved, so that's fair. ...But Turbo, the dude with a similar rap sheet, is still not only ruled a non-example, he's in the "never to be discussed again" category for all the nixing of adding him to the trope ever since 2012. Because why, exactly? I am legitimately finding no good justification for this now.

Turbo locked away his subjects' memories within Sugar Rush's code without giving them any say on the matter (whereas with Magnifico it's at least a contractual arrangement between him and the people who give their wishes to him), and while the Sugar Rush characters don't appear to be acting all that off in any way besides not remembering Vanellope, no one in Rosas really seems to be suffering, depressed, dispirited, and poor off from having given up their wishes and forgotten about them either: it's a frequent criticism that they all seem to happy and prospering, and that the bad side of Magnifico's reign is more told to us than shown. The suffering only really visibly occurs on-screen when Magnifico takes and breaks the wishes (though even then it's written off as "making people feel sad" by a lot of watchers, so it's not easy to argue it's all that heinous). And sure, Turbo's manipulation of Ralph left Ralph with more of a choice to make regarding Vanellope's cart and her ability to race compared to Magnifico with Simon, but that could be argued to make Turbo that much more insidious and reprehensible in his approach.

And then we have Cy-Bug Turbo vocally making clear his intent to overtake all games in the arcade he chooses and forcing Ralph to watch the Cybugs attack Vanellope, comparable to Magnifico vocally making clear his intent to break all wishes in Rosas in order to enslave the despirited masses forever and forcing them all to watch him torture Asha. Yes, the latter might hit harder since it's such a betrayal of all the people he was supposed to be protecting and caring for, but that doesn't make Turbo's climactic villainy any less heinous. Turbo lacks magic powers, he's just a program who overrode that of a Cy-Bug and intends to make full use of the bug's capabilities to infect the lifeblood of other games and to physically harm others, namely Ralph, who he tells straight to his face that he wants to kill. And like Magnifico with the dark magic tome, Turbo's code merging with the Cy-Bug doesn't destroy his moral agency, it only makes him into a more unhinged, unfiltered and destructive version of the same cruel, egomaniacal asshole he already was. The fact that he uses the words "virus", "arcade", and "game" in the same sentence proves he's not merely another instinctive Cy-Bug; he knows exactly what he's doing, and sets out to hurt countless others knowing that he's hurting them not caring, and even relishing it.

Well at least we have other trope wikis to look to if we wish to find Turbo under his rightful classification. He is a Complete Monster, period. With the raw deal TV Tropes has given him for over a whole decade, he's the one who should sing "This Is The Thanks I Get?"

Yes, I am aware that the Complete Monster trope is not a badge of honor or trophy for whatever villain ends up on it,

No, I could not pass up this image.

[danopdf]

a real good life [winnix brokeback mountain au]

(image via pinterest)

a/n: winnix brokeback mountain au has been rattling around my head for a while now and I really want to write a full fic based off the film, but for now this is going to have to hold you over. crossposted on my AO3

warnings: angst no comfort, talks of cheating, language.

wordcount: 2356

========================

The weather was getting colder the further up the mountain they got, and Lewis being as sensitive to the cold as he is, had put his heavy flannel and jacket on when they had last stopped. Dick, on the other hand, was perfectly warm in his lighter work jacket and the slightly ruined flannel shirt that had become an outdoor staple over the course of their trips- partly because of the cold, but mostly because of how much Lewis loved to wear it when he woke up in the warmth of their tent.

“We should stop soon it’s going to get dark in about an hour.” He calls from behind Dick, spending more time watching the man in front of him sway on his horse, then watching the heard of sheep they were corralling, “and I’m cold.” Dick chuckles at that, shaking his head and reaching into the side pack on his saddle, digging around for a moment.

“How far to the next landing?” He calls over his shoulder, pulling out a dark brown wool scarf that he tosses to Lewis.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Then we’ll stop in twenty minutes.” Dick smiles when he hears Lew groan behind him, and Lew smiles when he wraps the scarf around his neck, tucking it into his jacket and burying his face in it, taking a deep inhale of the familiar scent.

Within the next twenty minutes, Lewis manages to groan at least twice more and yell at three sheep to “get back in line! You wanna get eaten by a wolf?!”

When they reach the top of the ridge Lew rides up next to Dick, looking over the small area, a few trees littering the mountainside. He turns his head and tilts the brim of his hat up to look at Dick.

“Do you want to cut the wood, or set up the tent?”

Nix leans his head back and groans again, and Dick takes a moment to indulge himself, watching the long line of Lewis’ throat and the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Tent.” Dick’s eyes snap back to where they’re supposed to be and it takes him a second to nod, a second that has Lewis’ slight frown turning into a cocky half-smile.

======

It takes Nix nearly as long to set up the tent as it takes Dick to chop the wood for the night's fire, maybe it’s because Lewis doesn’t know how to set up a tent (even after 5 trips up and down the mountain), or maybe it’s because he spends more time watching Dick set up and swing the axe down, easily splitting the wood in two, pausing for an extra minute when Winters sheds his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, the fabric hugging his strong arms.

“You okay?” Dick’s voice behind Lewis startles him, and when he takes a deep breath and feels the rise of Dick’s chest against his back he shivers for a moment, suddenly well aware of how alone they are. The redhead's hand slowly moves to Lew’s shoulder squeezing it tightly.

“Yeah- yeah, I’m- I’ve got it.” Lewis replies slowly, the words sticking in his throat like molasses, the brim of Dick’s light brown hat peeking into the corner of Lew’s vision.

There’s a small moment of silence between the two before Dick brushes his hand over the small part of exposed skin between Lewis’s (Dick’s) scarf and his hair, and then suddenly pulls away, turning to start the small fire he had set up, and leaving Lewis colder- and more in need of the fire- than before.

When the light is starting to fade over the far side of the mountain, Dick has his heavier jacket on, and Lewis’ hat is set over his eyes, his breath steady despite his mind running wild with thoughts of the man lying against the other end of a downed tree they had pushed close to their fire.

The fire warms their skin and heats the front of Lewis’ flask, making it hot to the touch and stinging his lip when he brings it up for a long drink.

“Drinking something new?” Dick’s voice is quiet and Nix can barely hear him over the crackles and pops of the well-built fire.

“Why would it be something new?” He grumbles from under his black cowboy hat.

Dick takes a breath and clears his throat lightly, “You…you said that you liked the whiskey that Kathy got you for your birthday last year.”

Lewis can feel his heart soften and he blindly fumbles with the cap back on his flask.

“The one from Pennsylvania…” He continues, his breath is shallow and Nix can feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves. He tilts the brim of his hat back to sit properly on his head and his eyes lock with Dick’s.

Lewis nods slowly and licks his lips.

“It was good…but when it comes to Pennsylvania, I prefer red wine.”

It doesn’t take Dick more than a second for the meaning to compute and for that familiar warmth to spread from the tips of his toes to the apples of his cheeks.

“How’s Etta?” The words sound polite but dull coming from Nix’s plush lips, he’s asking out of courtesy more than anything. Dick doesn’t say anything, just stares into the flickering flame.

“That good, huh?” Nix slouches deeper into the fur lining of his jacket, knocking his back back over his eyes.

There are a few moments where Nix thinks that Dick has given up on the conversation when he feels the warmth of the fire disappear, and before he can open his mouth to tell Dick to put another log on, a pair of rough lips press against his, the taste of the dinner they shared lingering on Dick’s lips and tasting familiar against Lew’s own- like going back for a plate of seconds. 

Lewis doesn’t move any more than simply pushing his lips forward, sighing through his nose, easily tilting his head a little more, and allowing the redhead to place one of his large hands on the ground on either side of Lewis’ hips.

Dick pulls back slowly and uses his pointer finger to wipe Lew’s lip, being sure to push just the very tip of his rough finger between them. 

Lewis lets the tip of his tongue run along the calloused pad of Dick’s finger.

“I missed you.” The redhead whispers, ducking his head and pressing their lips together again, Dick using his finger to open Lew’s lips further and slip his tongue inside. Dick presses closer and knocks their hats back, finally allowing Nix to open his eyes and take in the way Dick’s hair lights up in the flame, and how his freckles come and go with each flicker of the fire.

Lewis brings his hand up to push against Dick’s solid chest, gripping the fabric of his flannel tightly to push him back just enough so they can breathe. Their breaths mingle in the small space between them and when Winters opens his eyes and slips his finger from Lew’s glistening lips, they take a moment to look at the other, finally together after two years of letters and (on Lewis’ part) hushed payphone calls from outside some dingy dive-bar where after Dick hung up, he could pull some other broad-shouldered redhead into the bathroom and pretend for a while.

“I missed you too.” Lewis whispers, moving his other hand from his flask to run along the sideseam of Dick’s jeans.

“You need to stop calling the house.” That takes Lewis by surprise, his hand dropping away and going to the grass so he can push himself up straighter, forcing Dick to lean back so their heads don’t knock together.

“What?”

“When you called…last year, Dee-Etta picked up the phone, I knew it was you because nobody else calls after 7:30.” Lewis’ brows pinch together, “I barely had enough time to grab the phone from her before you started rambling about how upset you were that I couldn’t make it to Brokeback that year.”

The way Lewis is looking at Dick has the man swallowing nervously, his fingers cautiously pulling up small blades of grass.

“Why didn’t you write and tell me that then? You just had to say it now?”

“It didn’t feel right, telling you over the phone or in a letter… I thought this would be easiest.”

Lewis feels his stomach drop right through him, ‘Jesus Christ, he’s ending it.’ he thinks to himself, ‘giving me an easy break, in person because he can’t stand to do it through a letter’, his vision blurs and his lips part slightly.

Dick knows Lewis better than either of them would like to admit, and he can see the thought pass behind the dark eyes of his lover.

“No. Lew no, that’s not what I meant- I’ll call you, you can still write but you just can’t call-”

“That’s the problem DIck, you don’t call.” Nix pushes Dick off him and stands, grabbing his flask and cowboy hat, and rounding the other side of the fire, putting as much distance between them as he can, without leaving the safety of the fire’s light.

“Yes, I do-”

“Christmas day, 1962.”

“What?” Winters doesn’t understand, shaking his head.

“That was the last time you called me…3 years Dick.” Lewis’s words hang in the air and a minute passes with the only noise being the soft bleats of the herd. Exasperated he throws his hands up. “You don’t call Dick, or write. You know, friends call to say ‘hello’ or wish them a ‘Happy New Year’! It’s not out of the ordinary for men to call.” Lewis’s voice cracks and it kills him that his body is betraying him like this, putting him on display for Dick like this.

Winters is standing stiffly on the other side of the fire when he says, “She was starting to get suspicious.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Richard-”

“She was going to figure it out if I didn’t make contact more scarce.” His voice is strained, like he’s nervous that Etta is around the corner, waiting to jump out and say that she’s finally caught them. “Etta thought I was having an affair-”

“That’s what this is Dick!”

“She’s pregnant.” That kicks the soul right out of Lewis’ chest and he stumbles.

“She isn’t going to work anymore, she doesn’t want any strain on the baby. She started cleaning out my office to make it a nursery and found your letters, she thought I was sleeping with another woman.”

A tear slides down Lewis’ cheek, his voice is painfully fragile when he murmurs, “so this is it?”

There’s a long moment where they’re standing on either side of the fire, watching the other breathe heavily before Dick whispers, “Yeah Lew…”

Lewis drops, legs giving out and hands trembling as he wipes at his face desperately.

“Nix!” Winters rushes around the fire, pulling Nix into his arms before he can collapse completely onto the cold ground and hurt himself.

Lewis rubs and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping that if he rubs hard enough he will wake up in his own house, in the guest room down the hall from Kathy- that he will wake up in a world where this conversation never happened and instead, they simply spent the night in the tent, pressed together from lips to legs.

Instead of curling into his strong arms, Lewis shoves at Dick’s shoulder over and over until the redhead has to wrap Lewis in his arms with the flailing limbs trapped between their chests.

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you!”

“I know.”

“You could have come with me, Kathy would never know! We could have had a life together!”

Lewis is sobbing into the collar of Dick’s jacket, and Dick has knocked Lew’s hat off so he can card his fingers through the dark hair.

Nix is too lost in the spiral of his own mind to feel anything outside of pure sorrow and betrayal toward the man he loves. He doesn’t feel Dick cradle his head to his chest, or when Dick shifts them into a more comfortable sitting position where he can pull as much of Lewis’ body against his as possible, but he does feel the soft patter of raindrops against his head- ‘when had it started to rain?’

He looks up at Dick and shifts him so they’re looking at each other, and ‘oh, there’s the rain…’

When the fire flickers just right Lew manages to catch the tears streaming down his lovers face, over his hard cheeks and dripping off his chin.

“I love you.” Dick murmurs.

“I love you, even when we’re worlds apart.”

Their kiss is gentle, and less about the kiss itself than it is about just needing to feel eachother, needing to know that ‘yes, I’m here, I’m not leaving just yet.’

Their noses are pushed together and their breaths are heaving, making small clouds of hot air form between them.

“I don’t want this to be over.” Dick’s voice is quiet, so unlike the usually sure and powerful man that Lewis is used to seeing over him.

“It doesn’t have to be! Dick, we can still be together, we can still come to Brokeback every fall- or you can come and visit me in Jersey, we’ll say we’re going fishing, and I’ll put us up in a real nice hotel, I’ll treat you right.” Lewis is begging him to think about it, begging him to say yes to that life, to them, to him.

“Lew…” and right then Nix knows from the softness of his voice- like cooing at a scared animal- what Dick’s answer is, “You know I can’t.”

“I don’t want our whole relationship to be defined by a few camping trips…I want to go dancing.”

The words hang between them, cutting Dick’s fragile heart in two.

“I’ll come to Jersey…we can go dancing.”

Lew’s dark eyes flicker across the freckled face slightly above him, searching for any sign of a lie.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[elacular-kink]

Hicvember 19: Induced

And here we have my first A+B(+C+etc) story to get a sequel, with this one being a follow-up to Day 8, Singles, in which A (now Anna) observed how her crush B (now Bowie) reacted to her and other peoples' singles. This takes place once Anna manages gather enough data points to get the nerve to do something about it.

Content: Hiccups, hiccuping in public, anxiety, embarrassment, alcohol, bad movies.

"Okay, Cameron, what stupid fucking movie are you torturing us with tonight?"

"God, have a little faith in me, would you?"

"You literally call it bad movie night, I know you're going to make us watch some complete bullshit."

Anna was only half paying attention to the argument between Bowie and Cameron while other members of their troop were setting up the projector and screen on which said bad movie would be shown. She'd actually spoken to Cameron earlier about this, requesting that he not show anything especially gory, disgusting, or distasteful. He had whined that this limited his options, but after nixing the one by the leader of scientology(?) and the one that would apparently have involved throwing cutlery at the screen(???) the two managed to agree on a "classic" in which a role played by Bela Lugosi would primarily be played by someone who was not Bela Lugosi. These were the sort of things that made Anna wonder if she would ever even slightly understand her fellow trainees.

She was coming to understand Bowie, she hoped. Or rather, she was fairly certain she'd come to understand one specific thing about them. If it turned out she hadn't, Anna worried that she'd wind up embarrassing herself more than a little tonight. But given just how much thought she'd put into this stupid plan, it would feel like a waste not to go through with it at this point. And yes, she did know what the sunk cost fallacy was, but dammit, even if she wound up being completely wrong she'd get new information out of this.

That fact only helped her nerves so much as Bowie flopped down on the couch next to her, apparently done antagonizing Cameron for now. "You want me to get you some popcorn or anything, Annie?"

Anna felt her face redden and looked away. "No, but thank you. I'm...prepared for whatever's to come tonight."

"You super aren't, but you'll find out all about that soon!" Cameron bounced on his toes as one of their squadmates dimmed the lights. "Alllll right then! Introducing! The world's first worst movie ever! Dun dun duuuuuuun!"

As a man filmed in black and white began stiltedly talking about the future, Anna began putting her preparations into action. It wasn't as if she'd needed to do much, but she tried to be subtle about it, knowing that Bowie had sensitive hearing and not wanting to embarrass herself more than necessary. So she concealed the gulps of air she was deliberately swallowing in sips of a glass of wine she'd poured herself, doing her best not to belch loudly even as bubbles of air caught in and out of her throat.

She actually ended up stopping herself partway through the opening credits before starting up again. This happened a few times. Overthinking things was a terrible habit of Anna's, and she wondered if her nerves meant that she was also scaring away exactly what she was attempting to induce. Her circle of self-doubt was thankfully broken when an unbelievably fake UFO was dangled onto the screen. Bowie barked out a single loud laugh along with some derisive whoops from other troop members, and seeing them amused made Anna giggle too. And that giggle was cut off by half a burp and a "*HNK!*" that she just barely managed to swallow down.

Anna could feel just how red her face was going as one hand flew up to cover her lips. She kept it there despite knowing it wouldn't do much to muffle the sound, having...practiced having these before. If it turned out she was wrong about her assumptions concerning Bowie's response to hiccups she was going to feel like an idiot. But in spite of that worry, the idea that she was about to be proven right excited her enough that she had to hide her mouth so nobody would see her smiling.

When she glanced down at Bowie, Anna was initially surprised that they weren't looking at her. But when the screen lightened and she got a better look at their face, it was obvious that they'd deliberately forced themself to stare at the movie instead of at her. A "*HMK!*" put an end to that, and Bowie's attention snapped onto Anna before they caught themself and looked away again, and even with how low the light was, the blush on their face was practically radiant. Anna's must have been too with how fast her heart beat when she "*HMK-MMP!*" hiccuped again. "S-sorry B–*HMP*–Bow," she whispered, doing everything she could not to giggle or grin too obviously.

"S'okay," Bowie said softly, gaze nailed back to the screen. "You, uh—" they flinched at Anna's next *HMP!* and took a moment to start speaking again. "uh...you, uh, doing okay?"

Anna nodded and forced herself to look away too. "I-I'm fine! *HMK!* I've ju–*HUP!*—a-ah!" She'd thought she'd be able to muffle all her hiccups to near silence since, unlike with her "singles", she would know to expect them, but at least one managed to sneak past her defenses, and it made her face burn all the way up to her ears. "E...excuse m---me. *HMK!*" She was fairly sure she heard Cameron snickering, but nobody else seemed to respond. "I...I h–*HMP!* have the hiccups, B–*HMK!*–Bowie," Anna whispered, curling slightly in on herself.

"Yeah..." Just how awestruck they sounded caught Anna off guard, and when she looked over, she saw Bowie staring at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. "Uh!" They shook their head as soon as they noticed her gaze. "S-sorry, you want, um, you want me to get you some water or something?" They whispered barely loud enough for Anna to hear them. Not sure she trusted herself to speak out loud again, Anna just nodded, and Bowie nodded back before stiffly getting up and rushing out of the room. They were barely gone a second before Anna missed their weight and warmth next to her. It didn't take long for Bowie to return, and when they did, they shoved a glass of water into Anna's free hand before sitting down just as stiffly as they'd gotten up, back board straight and feet flat on the ground, knees at a ninety degree angle. Even if Anna hadn't know what to look for already, that would have been suspicious. Bowie never sat correctly. Nevertheless, Anna had water now.

...she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with it, though.

How suspicious would it be to put it aside? To not drink any? Too suspicious, right? She had to drink some, right?

Anna shook her head again, trying to rattle the thoughts away and took a small, nervous sip, happy that just a split second after swallowing it, another "*MMNK!*" rocked her. A few more tiny sips and muffled hiccups, and Anna felt safe putting the glass down for now "Sorry Bow," she whispered, swallowing a hiccup just after she finished their nickname. "I don't thi–*NNK!*–nnh...think it w---worked."

"Doesn't, uh...doesn't sound like it, nah," Bowie muttered, still uncomfortably rigid.

After a few long moments, Anna made herself take the initiative and leaned into Bowie's shoulder. She failed to completely avoid laughing at the non-word noises that came out of their open mouth at that, and her hiccups picked up a bit of speed. "I don't w–*HNK* want to disru–*HPT* the movie for *MMNK* the oth---thers," she murmured into their shirt. "Could you he–*LP* help me keep th–*HMK* them quiet?"

"Y-yeah!" It came out just a little too loud, and Bowie nodded just a little too hard. Even though her eyes were at an awkward angle with her pressing her lips into their shoulder, Anna could see the massive grin stretching over Bowie's face. "Yeah, sure, Annie! Yeah! I-I got you!"

Anna felt herself smiling, realizing only a moment too late that that meant Bowie could feel her smiling too. After a second, she decided it didn't matter and nuzzled more firmly into their shoulder. "Th---thank you, Bow. *MMK!*"

"Yeah..." They giggled softly and slowly got less tense, and Anna felt her heart pick up more speed when they eventually rested back against her so her hiccups were shaking both of them. Every time she glanced up at Bowie, she could see how pink their face was in the dim light of the bad movie.

Even though she knew that the scientific method was supposed to look at things objectively, sometimes it felt very very good to finally confirm a hypothesis.

[svtgg]

I Saw It In A Dream

pairing(s): yun x members, yun x carats

genre: humor, slice of life

wordcount: 1.5k

Idol Room was a variety show that Seventeen had continuously been going to for their comebacks. This was their third comeback in a row, and Coni and Doni (the hosts), were asking the members for tmi’s.

Dk was the first to speak up, “Yun predicted the weather today.”

Both of the hosts were visibly shocked, and some of the members laughed at their reactions.

Coni starts waving his arms and speaks directly at the camera, “No, you guys don’t understand, all week we’ve been told that it was going to be sunny. Even today! But an hour before we started filming, it suddenly started pouring! Everyone was surprised.”

“Yun has very good intuition,” Mingyu explains. “Her gut feelings are always right.”

Doni shakes his head, “I don’t believe you.”

Yun herself is watching this entire interaction go down, smiling to herself. The members' excitement for this was greatly amusing her. Luckily, the members rush to defend her.

“This other time,” Edyth says, “I was supposed to be on a rising platform for a performance. The staff always makes sure it’s working before I get on it for rehearsal. Apparently, they had never had problems with their lifts at this venue, and it was working fine so everyone was confident that the show would run smoothly. The rehearsals went well. But right before the actual performance, Yun pulled me aside and told me that there was something wrong with the lift and to be really careful during the performance.”

Everyone was listening to Edyth’s story and anticipating what was going to happen next.

Doni gasped, “The platform didn’t work?”

“The platform didn’t work,” Edyth confirmed. “It buffered while it moved me up and then wouldn’t come down for the rest of the song. Luckily, it went back down smoothly after the song.”

Coni shook a finger in Yun’s direction, “It sounds to me like Yun tampered with your platform.”

Yun laughs at the accusation and shakes her head. “I would never,” she says.

“I have another story,” Jeonghan says. “I didn’t believe the members when they talked about this either until this happened a couple of weeks ago.” “You don’t have to tell this story!” Yun protests.

Jeonghan waves off her reluctance to share what happened, “Recently, we did a concert in Osaka. There were a couple of us in a hotel room, I think it was Hoshi, Woozi, Nix, Yun, and me. We had just ordered food and were waiting for the hotel staff to bring it up. So, a couple minutes go by, and there's a knock on the door. I assumed it was our food and got up to answer the door. But as I’m walking to the door, Yun tells me to not open it. I checked through the peephole and it was a person in uniform, with a cart of food, so I really did just think it was staff with our food. 

I really was going to open the door, but then Yun started freaking out, telling me not to open it. Hoshi and Nix believed in Yun’s ability while Woozi and I didn’t, so we didn’t open the door. We sat in silence for like 5 minutes while the person outside kept knocking on the door and saying they had our food. They finally left and I was complaining about how that was our food and I was hungry, but we got another knock on our door. It was one of our managers, and they told us that apparently some criminals had gotten into the hotel and were pretending to be staff in order to come see us. Right before I went back into our room, the staff came with our food. I asked if any other hotel staff had already come by, and they said no.”

“Random people were trying to get to you guys?” Doni asked.

Jeonghan and some of the other members nod enthusiastically..

Doni nudges Coni, “Maybe she’s some sort of a witch.”

“How do we test this?”

Yun is still shaking her head, “I’m not a witch. I just know when I should follow my gut feeling.”

The members are quick to protest this again. “No – she’s totally a witch.” Dk says.

Doni and Coni laugh. “What do you think?” Coni asks Minghao, as he hadn’t really spoken up with his own opinion.

Minghao smiles and looks over at Yun, there's a teasing glint in his eye before he looks back at Coni, “Maybe she’s not a witch, but she must have some sort of spiritual ability. She can predict the future with her dreams.”

Doni is quick to intervene, “How do you know it’s an ability though? Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?”

Minghao shakes his head, “It’s happened way too many times to be considered a coincidence.”

“Raise your hand if Yun has predicted something about you from one of her dreams?” Doni asks everyone. Him and Coni’s mouths drop open when all of the members raise their hands. “Are you guys trying to prank us?”

“One time,” Seungcheol said eagerly, his arms moving animatedly as he told his story. “Yun told me that she dreamt that a red jacket would give me a rash on my arm. I didn’t believe her but then a couple weeks later it happened! I bought a jacket but I had to get rid of it because it gave me a rash.”

“What about you?” Doni nudges Woozi, hoping that he’ll disagree with the members.

“I never give out the password of my studio to anyone. Only one of the managers, Bumzu, Hoshi, and I have access to it. One time I asked Yun to get me food while I was in the studio. I ask members all the time to do this and they always knock or just leave it outside, so I thought Yun would do the same. She had texted me that she had arrived at the building so I got up to accept the food but someone was opening the door to my studio. She just walked in and handed it to me super casually –” Everyone laughs when he makes the confused facial expression that he had as he told the story, ��– I thought that maybe she had gotten the code from Hoshi or our manager but when I asked them they said that they didn’t. No one had given her the code and I was so confused. When I finally asked her, she said she dreamt coming into my studio and wondered if the code she saw in her dream would be the same one in real life.”

Coni points accusatively at Hoshi, “You gave her the code!”

He raises his hands up in defense, his voice loudly denying it, “I didn’t tell her anything! Woozi would kill me if I told anyone the code, I wouldn’t even be here!”

Everyone laughs at Hoshi’s ability to make any situation humorous and the mc’s move on from this segment into a game. Yun hadn’t thought much of this moment when they were filming it, in fact, she thought that it would get cut. But it was aired and it went viral, carats were amazed with her ability while others didn’t believe her.

Fascinated with the alleged ability, this often became a topic of discussion between the media and Yun. Interviewers would ask her what her latest dreams had been about and sometimes members would tell stories of Yun predicting things during a vlive. Of course, there were always people that were skeptical of the entire thing so Yun usually opted to not talk about this. The last time it was really a topic of discussion was when a fan went viral for telling their own Yun story:

“As a carat, I had heard the rumors of Yun’s ability of being able to see into the future through her dreams. I thought that it was a joke that all of the members were in on, but now I’m a believer. Yesterday, I went to the Seventeen fansign. I was excited to meet all of the members. I was one of the last carats to say hello to them, and Yun was the last member I would say hello to. When I finally got to sit in front of her, she was very excited and pleasant to talk to. When I told her my name, her eyes lit up with realization. She asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said yes. She then told me his name and how long we had been together (3 years). I was shocked and confused about how she knew, but she only laughed and said that she had seen our wedding in her dream. I told her that I wasn’t married, but that I wanted to marry him. Yun smiled playfully and said that my boyfriend would propose to me that upcoming Saturday. Imagine how surprised I was when it was true, yesterday my fiance proposed to me.” 

The post went viral and gained over a million likes. Yun only responded in the form of a weverse post:

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Happy WBW! What's Alium TV like?

Happy WBW! (As in, World Building Where the fuck did this come from I didn't see it until now whoops)

Alium TV is something that definitely exists, but I've been thinking hard about differences apart from the obvious.

I'd imagine television entertainment is similar. Of course, their version of "realistic fiction" is much more fantastical. Any school dramas or mystery procedurals for example will have the powers involved in everything, that's a given.

"science fiction" would include theoretical powers or maybe "what ifs". I think there could be a show about the One Person Who Has All Powers. Maybe multiple. Knowing the existence of alternate universes, I think "isekai" shows would be very, very popular.

There'd of course be bias against Inutilia. Propaganda. Shows with Inutilia characters being boycotted, banned, unfairly cancelled. Even bias toward certain powers.

I also have an idea for this really long show that was created exclusively by speedsters and slowed down so all can watch it (though there is an "original time" cut). Like, they filmed 247 episodes in a week or something like that. Alium definitely has cameras that can pick up that speed.

Speedsters in general would also dominate the hand-drawn and stop motion animation industry. Cartoons could be pumped out quicker and at higher quality. This of course would make any aspiring animator who is not a speedster frustrated.

These are the main ideas I have! Hope this was enough!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

[elvenbeard]

Exit Strategy

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He paused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

She smiled sadly, then shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes laughed dryly.

“So what, live and let live?”

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

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

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

He paused for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

“You were very lucky…”

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

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

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

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

Fuentes seemed confused but nodded.

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

Slowly, it began to dawn on her.

“You were involved in that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you imagine?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes shrugged slightly and shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes chuckled.

“A mercenary or a philosopher?”

“Neither,” V said, “Not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To Sutter?” V asked and Fuentes nodded.

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

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

“Fifteen years this year,” Fuentes said.

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

Fuentes smiled sadly.

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

V frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More or less, at least.

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

“Yeah… somewhat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V thought about it for a moment.

“To gain what exactly?” he wondered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V shifted in his seat slightly.

“I’d just… ask you to be careful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes nodded pensively, understandingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

V swallowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuentes’ face twitched briefly, and she just nodded.

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

V frowned.

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

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

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

“That would be my approach, yes.”

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

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

Fuentes tilted her head.

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

“It’s… complicated.”

He lowered his hand and looked back at her again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V sighed.

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

Fuentes shook her head.

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

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

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

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

Fuentes said nothing, only looked down to her lap.

“Fantastic…” V sighed.

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

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

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

“Probably, yeah,” V said.

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

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

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

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

Fuentes hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V squinted.

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

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

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

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

>> Next Chapter

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

Notes:

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

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

Next chapter out hopefully soon! :D

Requested Fic Update Tags:

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

[dozydawn]

hmm, do i actually think the disappearance of rope from rhythmic gymnastics was a blow to the sport (like how i think the elimination of compulsory dance really hurt ice dancing) or do i just always want what i can’t have? or alternatively, am i just feeling sorry for inanimate objects again?

the “official” reason for rope being demoted from the other apparatuses was: too many injuries. it doesn’t hold much water though. yes, rope routines contained more leaps & jumps which took a toll on gymnasts, but those weren’t so heavily required by the time rope was phased out. in terms of hits & bruising, most gymnasts say the clubs are the most injurious apparatus. also the idea that fig cares about injuries🥴you have to laugh.

the much more widely-accepted rumor for its elimination: rope did not film well on television & was the least impressive & exciting apparatus to watch. this is much easier to believe, because it’s the same reason compulsory dance was nixed from ice dance: casual audiences were bored.

& yeah, there’s lots of old rope routines from the 80s and 90s that i haven’t posted, that i can’t fully enjoy because the rope becomes invisible in poor definition. i’ll also admit that in my early days of watching rg, rope was my least favorite. it was on its way out, the least flashy & recognizable apparatus, nobody seemed to care for it.

but the best things are an acquired taste & i’ve come to really appreciate rope & the era of rg it represents. i think it is the most mature apparatus & requires a mature gymnast to truly get the most out it: that’s why it’s a shame rope is only being performed at the junior level. i guess i should just be happy it still exists at all.

rope is also the most malleable and impermanent apparatus, constantly changing. even more so than the ribbon, which becomes useless when it gets tangled. the rope was purposefully knotted, tangled & untangled by the gymnasts as part of the apparatus skillset, which became all the more impressive in the group event.

[thenixkat]

Put on Faust: Love of the Damned and yeah, it's about as bad as the reviewer said it was. The editing is... a choice.

The editing and music choices are very edgy music video.

Can't say I dislike it. A bit slow and confusing to start with but the music is fun.

Also, there's only really so many like R rated horror superhero movies so...

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on . . . odds and ends

I have begun writing another big notes entry but it's a heavy one and requires visuals, so I suspect it'll be a while before it's done.

In the meantime, here are a few jottings on various random things in Iron-Blooded Orphans I thought worth commenting upon.

Naming conventions

The headline one, obviously, is the Gundams being named for the demons listed in the Ars Goetia. This we eventually discover is an in-universe response to the naming convention used for the mobile armours the Gundam frame mobile suits were developed to take down. Each mobile armour is named for a angelic figure: Hashmal is named for a class of angel while Harael, Mebahiah, Nemamiah and Ananel are all apparently derived from the Shem HaMephorash. It would be neat if all the names came from John Reuchlin's list of 72, which corresponds directly to the goetic demons but Hashmal nixes that idea.

It's also unclear if the names are for individual units or if they represent different lines or categories of armours. I tend towards the latter, simply based on the scale at which the Calamity War is presented as happening. This is somewhat tenuously is backed up by the Iron-Blooded Orphans G mobile game (RIP) presenting the player with a battle against 'Ananel Alpha' and the flashback in the Urdr Hunt campaign seeming to show Gundam Marchosias fighting a pair of Haraels. Though I must admit, I've watched that clip a few times and still cannot quite make up my mind it if represents two Haraels or just the multiple perspectives of Harael's claw eyes.

In any case, it seems that whoever named the Gundams had enough sense of drama to designate their 'angel hunters' as actual demons. And yet, the overall organisation that operated them -- Gjallarhorn -- embraced quite a different tradition.

This was of course Norse mythology. Each family in the Seven Stars ruling council has heraldry based on a different beast from the sagas (Odin's Ravens, Fenrir, Sleipnir, Jörmungandr, Nidhogg, Veðrfölnir (probably), and Ratatoskr). They have bases named Vingólf and Gladsheimr. Their mobile suits are derived from a set of machines named after Wagnerian valkyries, and they designate various different types of 'suit using German words. And of course, 'Gjallarhorn' itself is the name of the horn that sounds the start of Ragnarök (fitting, for a group formed to prevent the apocalypse). Plus, you know, there's Vidar's whole deal.

Curiously, there is an additional use of a Norse name in the setting: the Garm Rodi, a seemingly unaffiliated type of mobile suit primarily seen in use by the Dawn Horizon pirates. Given this is an instance of mythological naming in a line that otherwise has prefixes like 'Spinner', 'Landman' and 'Monkey', I wonder if perhaps this indicates the type of machine used by Gjallarhorn prior to the development of the Valkyrja and Gundam frames (these both belong to the late Calamity War period, whereas Rodis were deployed during the middle period; no we have no idea how long each period lasted). I haven't any particular reason for thinking this beyond it being named for the dog that guards Hel, but given Norse names are otherwise entirely restricted to Gjallarhorn, it would almost be weirder if there wasn't a connection.

(The Garm is also noted for its versatility, which puts it in the same bracket as the general-purpose Graze frame that has become Gjallarhorn's mainstay.)

Speaking of mobile suit lines, the Hexa frame stands out for having different types designated using people's names: Hugo, Gilda and Enzo. A quick web search for the three names in conjunction returns the Argentinian film Una Cita con la vida, directed by Hugo del Carril, starring Gilda Lousek and Enzo Viena. I do not know if there is any connection there, out of fiction, but it struck me as an intriguing coincidence.

Then we have Teiwaz naming their mobile suits using romanised Japanese words: Hyakuren, Hyakuri, Rouei, Shiden, Hekija. Not much to say about that, since it fits exactly with their Japanese/Italian fusion mafia aesthetics. Although, I suppose we should shout out the Chief's bonkers suffixes. Lupus Rex? Rebake Full City? Jeepers.

Finally, I'd like to draw attention to how the Ariadne Network fits into all this, or rather how it doesn't. It's named for the myth of the Minotaur and how Ariadne gave Theseus a guiding thread to help map his way through the labyrinth. Fitting for a network of navigation beacons. However, as a piece of technology, it's an outlier, named for a Greek myth despite being under the control of Gjallarhorn.

The implication is that the Network predates both them and indeed the Calamity War, with the use of Ahab reactors in its construction being cited as a cause of said War, by virtue of preventing long-range communication and observation. Should we therefore take from this that pre-Calamity War devices follow a Greco-Roman naming convention ala the US space program? There are other Greek names used in the setting, specifically for the regions into which Mars is divided, following the actual real-world mapping of the Red Planet's geography, so I wouldn't want to rule out such a conclusion -- particularly with the way English is used in the setting. But on the other hand, it could simply be that the Network's function made this particular allusion irresistible.

Currency

There are two canonical currencies: the galar and the meria. As far as I can tell, the galar is exclusively mentioned in the context of Mars, and is therefore presumably related to Gjallarhorn's rule of the planet. Meanwhile the meria is used in the two spin-offs, Moon Steel and Urdr Hunt, both of which take place on or around space colonies. Whether this means the meria is primarily a space-based currency, or just a widely used currency in general is unclear.

Mostly I just think this is worth noting for the potential implications the galar has for Mars' situation: if the money in circulation there is directly controlled by Gjallarhorn, then that represents an added obstacle to independence. And given so much of Kudelia's efforts are focused on achieving greater economic freedom from Earth, it's an interesting detail to consider.

Oh, and apparently paper-like money is still in vogue in the Post-Disaster timeline. Which seems a bit odd, since paper itself is counted as a marker of wealth (explicitly stated in the translation of the CGS promo website linked from Gundam wiki; implied in the series by things like how we only ever see real books in the hands of the upper classes).

In Moon Steel, Tanto Tempo's members use paper files and documents, presumably because being part of an Earth-adjacent company, they can afford it. This makes me wonder about the source of the material. Do space colonies grow and recycle their own paper? Is that another layer to money's value in this setting? Or is the case made from some other material?

Food for thought, at least.

This excavator

Because first of all, it's an adorable piece of design work. And second, it's a rare example of non-mobile suit robotics in the setting.

Most Gundam shows have some sort of 'sub-mobile suit' category of mecha, be that a cruder precursor to the humanoid robot suits that are the mainstay of the franchise or a more utilitarian, often civilian variety of machine used for maintenance and construction work. Iron-Blooded Orphan's mobile workers are, however, mostly seen in military configurations, operating as small, extremely manoeuvrable tanks. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to classify them as mecha in their own right -- they have moveable 'legs' and on the type Tekkadan uses at least, the cannons operate in an arm-like fashion. But overall, they are generally more tank-like than anything else. The only civilian use we see from them is as a flat-bed truck. Indeed, when construction work in the space colonies comes up, it is specifically mobile suits that are cited as being used.

This excavator, which shows up in the background of the main series and has very slightly more presence during the Urdr Hunt game, makes it clear there are in fact mobile worker-like machines with entirely non-military uses. The arms appear to articulate in ways that set it apart from a real-world excavator, suggesting it operates in a more human-like fashion than your average JCB, and the armatures holding it up resemble mobile workers, only in a more stable four-point layout than the otherwise ubiquitous tripod arrangement.

It's a nice touch, extending the sci fi conceits throughout the world-building. It also stands out because so many of the vehicles shown beyond the obligatory humanoid mecha are simply . . . mundane. The cars, trains and even the fighter jets are little different than those we'd see around us today. Having something like this show up helps avoid the sense of the mobile suits being fantastical devices with no connection to the rest of the technological landscape, and gestures at mobile workers having uses that would earn them that name.

Gjallarhorn's plastic macs

I just love how utterly dorky the official rain-wear is.

McGillis very much doing the 'dignity, always dignity' bit, there.

Other reference posts include:

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 1)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 2)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (corrigendum) [mainly covering my inability to recognise mythical wolves]

IBO reference notes on … three key Yamagi scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Shino scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Eugene scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Ride scenes

IBO reference notes on … the tone of the setting

IBO reference notes on … character parallels and counterpoints

IBO reference notes on … a perfect villain

IBO reference notes on … Iron-Blooded Orphans: Gekko

IBO reference notes on … an act of unspeakable cruelty

IBO reference notes on … original(ish) characters [this one is mainly fanfic]

IBO reference notes on … Kudelia’s decisions

IBO reference notes on … assorted head-canons

IBO reference notes on … actual, proper original characters [explicit fanfic – as in, actually fanfic. None of them have turned up in the smut yet]

IBO reference notes on … the aesthetics of the mobile frame

IBO reference notes on … mobile suit designations

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 1)

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 2)

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 3)

IBO reference notes on … the Turbines, or ‘Tekkadan done right’

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (Addendum 1)

IBO reference notes on … deals with the devil

[georgieluz]

Hey Jules! 2, 9, 14, 19, 24, and 28 for the HBO War positivity ask game please ☺️

hi lou!! ofc ofc!! :)

2 - who are some your fav creators/mutuals?

i love all of my mutuals and every creator in the fandom bc everyone is just amazing!! but to list just a few @footprintsinthesxnd, yourself!! (@luckynumber4), @ep6bastogne @lamialamia @thewayisset @lewis-winters @jenkil @mads-weasley @hellofanidea @liptonwashere @malarkgirlypop @panzershrike-pretz @sweetxvanixlla @whollyjoly @samwinchesterslostshoe @next-autopsy @iceman-kazansky @heystovepipeboys @theflyingfin @cody-helix02 and many many more!

special shout out to the cult!! zim zam, my friends, zim zam!!! also i'm so sorry if i forgot to tag anyone!!

9 - a ship that you can't get enough of?

bradnate, andyeddie, snurgie, ronnix, lipluz, webgott, and no matter how much winnix i consume it never gets old so them too!

14 - your fav underrated character?

ooh this is always hard bc everyone classifies underrated as a different thing.. are burgie and harry underrated? if so, them! chuck grant, tab (this man is so loved he's can't be underrated but i couldn't not mention mr lover lover himself), alton more??? one of the most interesting easy co men for sure!! wish we had more of him (lol)

19 - what's your fav universally-accepted/fanon headcanon about a character?

ooh either all the nix childhood fanon or the andyeddie ghosts/afterlife/grief fanon.. yeah.. that hits the spot

24 - what wip from another creator are you most excited about?

all of @ep6bastogne's wips (yes i read all your tags about them in utter anticipation), @luckynumber4's burgie wip! anything @footprintsinthesxnd writes! same with @lewis-winters ALL of your wips sound so so sooooo up my street/my thing!! there are so many more but despite my plans to spend the day at home i actually have to leave the comfort of my bed and brave the cold outside, and i'm late already so i'm gonna have to stop listing, but it's very likely that i'm excited for almost every single wip any of you guys have!

28 - what's something that lives in your brain rent free and you want everyone to know about the show/the fandom/your works?

outside of hbowar??? oooh i have LOADS of things!! the thick of it!! it has such clever funny writing, the best dialogue and political satire ever, because it's just so true to life and accurate for uk politics. peter capaldi is fucking amazing in it! and you'll see a lot of uk actors that are famous for other things here. but yeah, it's just hilarious and witty and clever. love it. go watch it. ummm other than that, the korean band onewe!! please go listen to them, they are ridiculously talented and have the kindest most lovely and accepting fandom in the world. in fact, the hbo war fandom and onewe fandom are the only two fandoms i've ever felt happy and comfortable in. onewe write beautiful songs with the most gorgeous lyrics (they have a space series which is one of my all-time favourites). ALSO pride (2014) as a movie recommendation! this film is my comfort film but it tears me apart as well. some people watch it for the queerness and come away learning about welsh history too.. for others, it's the opposite. but as a welsh gay man for me both those elements are so important to who i am and my own identity, that this film is just feels so incredibly special to me. especially the character gethin who i really feel i can relate to a lot due to our circumstances. tim roth is someone who i always wanna shout about and who lives rent free in my head too. love that man so much. also the band the libertines!! because them and the strokes were my entire teenage years and i pretty much grew up with their music as my 'soundtrack'. ok i think that's enough, even though i definitely have way more to shout about. sorry i rambled!

for this ask game!

[sciderman]

to me tasm 1 and 2 are like. the star wars prequels of marvel. when you try to remember the movie it feels alright, there are a lot of one liners that work and are still funny. but when you actually watch it you're there like. uhm what

and you just know that the actors are doing their best, and whenever they feel weird it's probably because of the direction. and so you're there wondering what it could've been...

i haven't seen the star wars prequels and have absolutely no personal opinions whatsoever on the star wars franchise but - but - i think tasm 1 is a film that deserves a little more credit, really. i think it might not work for everyone, because everyone wants some specific thing from a spider-man movie that apparently tasm 1 didn't deliver on - but for me, i kind of adore how personal and almost indie that film feels compared to all the other spider-man movies.

i think i'd script doctor it to hell - i might not have picked the lizard as the villain - i might've nixed the lizard from the movie all together - but something i adore about the tasm movies is that they really, really are about peter parker. not about new york, or the concept of heroism or selflessness or power or responsibility - they're about peter parker. some kid, who was abandoned by his parents, and raised by his aunt and uncle, and is in love with a girl, and is kind of still just fumbling for direction and identity - however he can find it. that's just his struggle throughout the entire series - he doesn't have a direction. he doesn't immediately know what to do with his powers, he's not selfless, he's not heroic - he's just faced with difficult choices and situations and tragedy and he's just trying to do what's true to him in the moment, without grandiosity or anything. he tries to find purpose by continuing his father's research - it doesn't work out - he tries to find purpose by hunting down ben's killer - it doesn't work out - he tries to find purpose by following gwen - needless to say, doesn't work out - and in the end-up, after losing gwen, he's directionless, until he puts the mask back on and - from what we learn in no way home - that isn't working out either. i'm kind of obsessed with this particular peter parker, and his fight to find direction in a world that kind of - constantly takes from him. and i just... i'm constantly rotating andrew's peter parker in my mind, okay.

i think i adore the tasm movies for being movies that are actually concerned with and interested in telling a story about peter parker. not kind of just reducing him to a symbol of heroism, or shoving him into a million high-tech new suits to sell toys - but telling a personal story about a kid who has damage and is struggling for purpose and identity. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY to Elvis Presley. When he turned 11, his mother Gladys took him to the Tupelo Hardware Company Store and bought him his first guitar: A 1947 Kay flat-top K19. He’d play this guitar throughout his school years and at his first Sun recording session. Also on this day: In 1956 his double-A single “Don’t Be Cruel/Hound Dog” went to #1 and stayed there for weeks. Fast forward to 1993 and the United States Post Office issued an Elvis Presley stamp. 

Sidebar: 1n 1976 David Bowie demo’d the song “Golden Years” with Elvis in mind to cover it (for unclear reasons Elvis nixed it even after making a demo). Rewind to 1960 when Elvis recorded the song “Black Star” (later re-titled “Flaming Star”). That song directly inspired the Black Star theme of Bowie’s final work, and it’s remarkable that Bowie was also born on the same day as Elvis.

In 2022 Baz Luhrmann released the ELVIS film, a biopic that most people think “got it right,” portraying Elvis as channeling Pentacostal church rapture with juke joint energy into one voice, one vibration. He looms over me, be it through mindful study or cultural resonance—in 1989 I named my back-up The Rover Boys after the surname for The Million Dollar Quartet a.k.a Elvis’s legendary 1956 jam session with Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins. Like many professional musicians, I started with cover bands playing in bars, and I’m certain I’ve learned many Elvis hits + in my solo set I do gospel songs that he favored.

Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is based on “Plaisir d’Amour,” a 1784 French chanson by Jean-Paul-Égide Martini, re-written by hit-making team Hugo & Luigi w/George David Weiss. The lyrics are informed by poet Alexander Pope and Bible verses. I always enjoyed the tune, but when I heard Bob Dylan cover it, I became inspired to play it. Dylan gave it a gospel flair, and that triangulation with God’s love is what I aim for when I do it. Here’s my cover of it with stories https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEeb6uPiQWI&t=217s Meanwhile, HB EP 

#Elvis #Presley #birthday #black #star #DavidBowie #GoldenYears #Martini #chanson #HugoandLuigi #DavyJones #Monkees #Epiphone #johnnyjblair #Kayguitar #HoundDog #Dontbecruel #king #milliondollarquartet #Johnny #Cash #JerryLeeLewis #CarlPerkins #BobDylan #Dylan #singeratlarge #postage #stamp