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imgibbon · 3 months ago

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A "Brief" History of Shade, the Changing Man & Woman

In the beginning, ie 1978, there was Ditko, and he gave us Shade, the Changing Man, and it was good.

Rac Shade was a Bond-type agent of an advanced society on a world called Meta - not an alien planet, but the Earth-analog of another layer of reality, and journeying between them meant crossing "The Zero Zone" and trying not to run afoul of its Area of Madness.

Shade had been framed for treason and the crippling of his fellow agent and fiancé Mellu Loran's parents, high-ranking government officials. Escaping from prison and heading to Earth and making use of a bit of contraband experimental technology that was being held at his hideout for Earth operations prior to his frame-up, the "M-Vest", he tracks down escaped Metan criminals while also seeking to find the one who framed him, who has been hiding out on Earth by integrating into its mafia underworld.

The M-Vest allowed Shade a range of powers. With it he could manipulate gravity, employ enhanced strength, fire off energy blasts, and gave him an odd force-field that mitigated harm, but was also sensitive to the psyche of those around Shade, contorting to look like a weird image of their fears, as well as reflecting Shade's unconscious thoughts. He was a "changing man" as, to others, he was a constantly mutable and unnerving entity.

Across the 8 published issues (we got issue #9 later, and Ditko purportedly had up through issue #15 plotted out), Shade convinces his superiors of his innocence, returns to Meta, makes up with Mellu, and starts to make his way back to earth to deal with the criminal mastermind behind his framing infiltrating and taking over the Earth observation outpost that Shade's organization had been working out of.

And then the series was cancelled on short notice due to DC being in financially dire straits at the time.

A decade later, in 1988, Shade was rescued from the void of the Zero Zone by The Suicide Squad, joining their ranks in return for helping him liberate his org's outpost as if it were the next issue and he hadn't been absent from pages for a decade since we last visited that plotline. The mastermind is killed during the scuffle, and with him any chances of Shade being able to go home and formally clear his name. Waller and co offer to help him out while he figures out another way home in the meantime.

He ran with the Squad for a good twenty issues, taking part in the giant Janus Directive crossover, and even journeying to Apokolips and fighting the New Gods with them. During that arc, he is talked into making a bad call that betrays the team, though he helps them get out of the resulting mess. In the end, when everyone is zapped home by Darkseid's eyebeams, while the rest of the Squad is blipped to Earth, Shade is finally returned to Meta.

Six months later, mid 1990, Peter Milligan's first issue of the new Shade, the Changing Man hit news stands. And it was... different.

Milligan expanded on Shade's backstory, revealing that Shade had been an aspiring poet prior to being recruited into the agency that trained it out of him, and delving more into Metan culture, while also using Shade as a vehicle for exploring the weirdness of being in a familiar yet alien society he felt as a British man newly moved to America.

After returning to Meta and before he'd had time to reunite with Mellu, Shade's superiors had tasked him with going back to Earth to pick up an assignment that another agent had been on but failed at: figuring out where the Madness in America was stemming from, and stop it from leaking out into the Area of Madness and influencing Meta. Shade had to journey deep into the Area of Madness to get a bead on it, and ended up on Earth by possessing the body of a freshly executed serial killer, unknowingly leaving his original body an empty lifeless husk floating in the void.

He started travelling the States with Kathy George, whose parents were the serial killer's final victims, and the two eventually are joined by Lenny Shapiro, and sarcastic and witty woman in her own right. The three end up in what would today be called a polyamorous trouple, and eventually confront the living embodiment madness of America, which had infected the other agent, driven him insane, and transformed him into what manifested to others as the giant twisted skeleton of Uncle Sam known as The American Scream.

Shade's M-Vest has grown in power, and possibly is just a part of him now, vastly increasing his abilities to raw reality-warping levels. He can more or less just do whatever the story needs him to do now, basically.

Once the Scream had been dealt with, Shade died. Not that that really slowed him down at all. He wasn't even really aware that it had happened. His at this point powerful madness-riddled psyche was keeping him around as a ghost of sorts, and Kathy & Lenny found a recent corpse to posses, as someone had just driven their car into the lake near where they were staying.

They only discovered after the fact that it was a woman.

After a brief detour where Shade transitioned back into being a man (transmasc baybeeeee), he went back to Meta, finally reconnecting with Mellu after what was now some years, only to learn that the agency had told her that he was dead, and she'd met and wed someone else. She has a mental breakdown, asking in tears why he hadn't come home sooner. Taking this in, Shade returned to Kathy and Lenny, to let them know that he was dying again, said his goodbyes, and allowed himself to be killed by the same FBI/Meta duel operative who'd done him in before.

This is where the Vertigo imprint spun up. The next issue, under the Vertigo banner, picks up after a bit of a timeskip, where Kathy and Lenny are informed by the ghost of Kathy's dead ex that angels in heaven have plans for Shade, and they're sending him back, having prepared for him a body to use in the form of a adult man who's been basically braindead since birth and kept in a medical institution. But the angels have kept a bit of Shade's soul so they can exert some power over him, and it's made him a bit less hinged than he used to be.

Shade, Kathy, and Lenny, per the angels' direction, set up shop as managers of a hotel, helping the weird visitors who come to stay there. During their time there, Shade manages to get Kathy pregnant, and Lenny reunites with the daughter Lily that she had in her teens before running away from home.

But as Kathy comes to term and approaches the time to give birth, she is brutally assaulted. She dies, though they manage to save the baby. Shade, however, is not in his right mind, and rejects the child, walking out of the hospital to wander, while Lenny leaves with her daughter.

This, purportedly, was where Milligan intended to end the series. But for whatever reason it didn't, so it kept going, and the status quo was obviously massively different than what it used to be.

After another not-too-lengthy timeskip Shade decides to kill himself, not seeing the point in continuing, though the literal devil sends him back to posses yet another body. Shade, in an attempt to find meaning, sets up shop in a dimensionally transcendental crack in the pavement in NYC, spends some time existing as the floor in a dance studio, and finally goes to check up on his son, George. Who, it turns out, is aging extremely rapidly, due to not being fully human.

Reunitings with Lenny are had, George ages to death over the course of six months, his soul merges with Lenny's daughter Lily, Shade picks up a few more strays in the form of Angela and Sinita, the latter of which he starts a new relationship with, before everything goes tits up again and he decides the solution is to build a time machine so he can fix all of his (and his friends') problems. He prevents Kathy's parents from being murdered, prevents his younger self from joining the agency, helps Lenny out in her youth, etc.

The series ends with Shade and his now-daughter Lily visiting this new revised timeline's version of Kathy to see if they can strike up a relationship with her.

Things apparently didn't go well.

The next time we see Shade outside of cameos is a story arc in Milligan's run on John Constantine, Hellblazer, in 2010. Constantine summons Shade to help with some Madness-related issues he and his fiancé Epiphany are experiencing, and Shade, unable to get together with the new Kathy and Lily nowhere in sight, becomes obsessed with turning Constantine's bride-to-be into an idealized version of Kathy. It doesn't work, and Constantine is able to properly wed Epiphany, but Shade is shown to be crazy and depressed and have basically the powers of a god. In the middle of all of that we also met back up with Lenny, who has cleaned herself up and is now a school teacher, go figure.

The very next year, DC would cancel the Vertigo line, and everything else, and reboot their universe with the Flashpoint event. During it, in a miniseries from Milligan, Shade is forcibly taken back to Meta, where they reveal that A) the vest has grown to be a part of him, and can no longer be removed in a way that matters, and, B) because of this he is, to an extent, immune to all these reality rewrites. Or at least less affected by them. Shade is put in charge of a team, the Secret Seven, but the madness overtakes him (with a bit of help from some double agents for an enemy faction) and he winds up back in the Area of Madness

Afterwards, in the New 52, we see him trying to forcibly manifest a new Kathy with his godlike powers, but apparently not godlike enough, as she just melts when he's not around. He's interrupted by Madame Xanadu, putting together a team, the Justice League Dark, largely comprised of many of the members of the Secret Seven, and tasks Shade in a leading role to help her save the world from some threats she has foreseen.

Milligan wrote this series for the first 8 issues, and when he left, so did Shade (as well as Milligan's other OCs he'd brought to the table), but it served as a nice little coda to his era of The Changing Man that had begun some twenty odd years earlier.

It would then be another half-decade or so before we'd see hide or hair of Shade again. In late 2016, DC started up the Young Animal line, a young adult-aimed successor to the Vertigo imprint, with many of the same faces headlining its titles. And among them was Shade.

Sort of.

The new Shade, the Changing Girl, from writer Cecil Castellucci, starred young adult bird alien Loma Shade, who was raised on Meta and had adopted Rac's last name after becoming enamored with his poetry and counter-culture views while he was acting as a guest lecture at her university before disappearing form Metan society again.

Loma steals what is purportedly Rac's vest, which has been sitting in a museum, and uses it to transfer her consciousness to Earth, wanting to follow in Rac's footsteps, taking over the body of a comatose high school girl named Megan. And leaving her now empty bird alien body behind on Meta for her boyfriend to deal with, oops.

Living as "Megan", she learns about our culture, experiences dysphoria being in a body she doesn't identify with, and explores sexuality, hormones, and learns how to be a better person than she used to be (and than Megan used to be as well). Meanwhile back on Meta, we learn that Mellu, now getting up there in years, is the head of the agency that used to employ her and Shade, and becomes obsessed when learning that someone has stolen Rac's vest and managed to use it, thinking she'll finally be able to reunite with Shade again after all these years.

Eventually, Loma runs away from home, learns never to meet her heroes, has to deal with Megan wanting her body back, and Mellu wanting Rac's coat back. Her original body dies without her soul in it, and Megan's body dies in the process of Megan trying to get back in it. Shade ends up possessing the body of her favorite black & white sitcom star, Honey Rich, who happened to look a lot like Megan in her younger years, and returns it to youthfulness to attend Megan's funeral.

Mellu also gets the coat back and uses it to reunite with Shade, who had left behind the vest for Mellu and was waiting for her in the Area of Madness where time has no meaning.

It was at this point that Loma got caught up in a really bizarre crossover event that involved all the titles in the Young Animal line called Milk Wars, which was largely Doom Patrol focused, but saw Loma splitting in five, each color-coded and embodying one of her emotions Inside Out style, and serving as Wonder Woman's personal helpers in a world overtaken by a weird 1920s aesthetic organization called Retcon. It was very weird lol.

The series then returned with under the new branding Shade, the Changing Woman. We are subjected to a five year timeskip, during which Loma has grown and slipped into old habits, sleeping around with men and women, indulging in food, drugs, and other things to fill the void in her heart. Her friends have all graduated, gone on to higher education, and gotten jobs in their fields. And she still doesn't really know what her place in the world is. So she's been couch-surfing with Rac in the Area of Madness while she figures out what to do with her life.

And in the midst of all that, the giant interdimensional crayfish that destroyed her birth planet, causing her to be a refuge child on Meta in the first place, begin to attack the Earth.

By the end of the final issue in late 2018, Loma and Rac had become one person, Kathy, Lenny, and Lily had put in an appearance, Mellu got some closure, Megan had come back in a male body and tried to hijack Loma's again, Loma's old boyfriend had become a green lantern, and Loma ended up possessing the body of her dying black non-binary friend River.

And that's where the series ended.

And we haven't seen Shade, in any iteration, since then.

#rac shade #loma shade #river shade #shade the changing man #shade the changing woman #shade the changing girl #suicide squad #justice league dark #secret seven #kathy george #lenny shapiro #mellu #dc comics #vertigo #young animal #steve ditko #peter mill #cecil castellucci

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tsudelune · 1 year ago

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CAN I REQUEST AKITO WITH AN S/O WHO IS EASILY FLUSTERED BUT TRIES TO DENY THAT PLEASEEEEEE (also take your time i just love your work and finally decided to request smth lol)

'' the way you're looking at me , you've got me mesmerized ,,

- akito shinonome x reader

a/n : i think it's been a year. to those who remember me, hello again! to those who don't, still, hello! i'm back better than ever. i'm so sorry for disappearing for...a long time. my requests are opened again and i will be responding to (very...very old) requests from before! again, i am sorry for my absence and i will be getting to my requests. sorry it's so short...i want to get through as many requests as possible!

warnings : potential cringe. you've been warned.

style : hc + fic (at the end)

- just...two words. field. day.

- akito teases a lot. he makes flirtatious remarks every now and then, but seems to enjoy your flustered state! he knows what he's doing.

- when he finds out, he's unknowing of it.

- when he realizes that you're intensely blushing at his compliment...you can tell he's about to tease you. relentlessly.

- who could've possibly known that you were so easy to fluster? VBS probably did...but we ignore that.

- as time goes on, akito soon realizes when he should probably stop, because...i mean, you're literally as red as the sun sometimes.

- but the best part, is that akito finds it endearing. he fell harder than you did first.

vivid bad squad was taking a quick break, and akito took it as the chance to talk to you. He was drinking a small cup of coffee, while an, kohane, and touya were busy chatting away about the next event. the two of you were chatting about school, until...

"hey. y/n." akito interrupts, putting down his coffee. you bring your gaze to meet his green-ish eyes. "has anybody ever told you that you look really good today?"

"w-what?!" you yell out, gaining the attention of the other three. "a-akito, stop doing this on purposeee..." you quickly hid your face in your hands, while akito only laughed at your blushing mess. wasn't that mean, huh?

"oh man, y/n..." an started to smile widely, laughing a bit. "akito's got you wrapped around his finger..." even kohane and touya were laughing. they started to talk amongst themselves, with some sentences like "haha! y/n's easily flustered by akito more than anybody" leaking out from the conversation

"stop it an! i know that DAMN well." you retorted, your face still slightly red. akito only had this odd longing gaze at your face. you creased your eyebrows, skeptical of his next move.

"y/n," he said, dragging out your name. "i'd like it if you could give me a small kiss."

you grumbled under your breath, giving him a peck on the lips. "you're lucky i love you."

akito smiled knowingly, his chin rested upon his hand. "i am lucky, and i love you too."

#project sekai #project sekai colorful stage #proseka #pjsk #project sekai fluff #proseka fluff #pjsk fluff #project sekai x reader #proseka x reader #pjsk x reader #akito shinonome #shinonome akito #akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #headcanons #ask #hastune miku colorful stage #@tsudelune-post

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toutallyahoe · 2 years ago

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so... guess who is still alive? *giggles and twirls hair*

anyways, do people still like swtcw? no??? well... fuck everyone then

If you ask Fives on what he expected when he (bashfully) volunteered to join General [Name] on scouting around the area as the rest of the 501st and Nova squad set camp, Fives would absolutely say he did not expect... this...

"O-oh... sir!" Fives half whines, half moans as [Name] push both his fingers knuckle-deep inside his hole. The poor clone let out more pathetic noises as [Name] moved his fingers, scissoring Fives slowly as he was trying to prep Fives as much as he can before he shoves his cock inside the clone.

Fives was a flustered and whimpering mess. Not only was he laid before his commanding officer, strip out of his uniform, and he was also acting like a pathetic mess.

It was all that kriffing flowers fault! Fives was sure that red odd flower that spat pollen on his face earlier had made him... so vulnerable and... his body hot. Granted he might have some part to blame as he did take off his helmet and didn't heed [Name]'s warning about the fauna of this godforsaken planet was odd and freaky— but still!

Fives shut his eyes tight as he buries his face in his folded arms as he remembered what he did. Fives didn't know if he can look at the general in the eye after this. Acting like a fucking shiny and whimpering so pathetically that he felt hot and weak as he had unconsciously grinded on [Name]'s thighs earlier.

"K... kriff, sir... please," Fives weakly whined as he unconsciously grind on the ground, trying to get some simulation on his red, aching cock. [Name] only let out a chuckle at his plea. It was adorable as Fives continued to grind on the ground so desperately.

[Name] paid more attention to the mess laid before him. Fives' cock was pressed in between his stomach and the brown cloak that belonged to the Jedi, leaking precum onto both the clone's stomach and the cloak. [Name] frowned a little at that, it seems like Fives made a mess on his cloak. He hopes the others won't notice he wasn't wearing his brown cloak when he gets back.

Hmm, maybe he can get Fives to clean it up later. [Name] knew there was a river nearby and maybe he can make the clone lick his own precum off the cloak—

"A-ah— sir!" Fives cried, arching his back as he came. Fives didn't know whether to be embarrassed at how easily he came undone just by [Name]'s fingers or feel relieved about some of the unbearable hotness his body felt was gone a little bit.

— ah... he definitely wasn't going to use that cloak anymore. Fives was going to pay for this mess.

[Name] pushed his fingers deep inside Fives in annoyance, the clone letting out a loud gasp as [Name]'s fingers hit his prostrate. Fives' eyes snapped wide open as he let out a sob. Ah, kriff... Fives has a strong feeling this is one of many orgasms [Name] was going to fuck out him.

#top male reader #will make proper tags some day #male reader #x male reader #star wars x male reader

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queersekai · 7 months ago

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Day 3 of @sekaitransparents' event: Favorite cover or favorite commission song

Flag(s): Sapphillean (Honami, Ichika, L/n KAITO, Shiho, and Saki), transgender (Haruka, Minori, MMJ Rin, MMJ Miku, and Shizuku), polyamorous (An, Toya, VBS Rin, Akito, and Kohane), fluidflux (Rui, Nene, WxS Rin, Tsukasa, and Emu), and queer (Mafuyu, Kanade, Ena, Mizuki, and 25ji Luka)

Favorite overall is Engeki/Theatre, but I figured I'd do my favorite for each group because why not? More info about my feelings under the cut because this post is long enough as is

Leo/need: Regulus. It was Voices until Regulus got leaked, and then this almost instantly became my second favorite song in the game. Honami sounds amazing, and KAITO's tuning is leagues better than it was in Hoshi wo Tsunagu (worst 4th rotation song and it's not even close because of the tuning). What's especially funny is Leo/need is tied for my least favorite group (with WxS)

MORE MORE JUMP!: IF. I nearly gave it to JUMPIN' OVER ! or The Peachy Key, but no, IF still takes the top spot. My one issue is I hate Airi not being in this set. It's funny, this ended up being the only song not from 4th rotation. Anywyas I still wish Haruka got her 4th event with the r-906 commission... I knew it would be great and I love JUMPIN' OVER ! but man... Haruka was robbed

Vivid BAD SQUAD: Gekokujou (no I am not using the EN title. I refuse). I nearly gave it to Kashika because Kashika is amazing, but... Gekokujou is ridiculously important to me. It and its event were leaked right after my grandma died (in an odd coincidence with the event, from pancreatic cancer). This song has helped me cope and got me through some of the darkest days of that time. Either way, though, I flip back and forth between Gekokujou and Kashika as my favorite

Wonderlands x Showtime: CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY. It's really not even close. Mr. Showtime and Hakoniwa no Coral (again, refusing to use the EN title) are runners up for this, but there has yet to be a disappointing Rui commission imo. Also, EMU FINALLY GOT TO SWEAR (kinda)

Nightcord at 25:00: Engeki and it's not even close. This is my favorite song in the game. I'm so excited for the full version to come out (and I only wish the single was coming out on my birthday, but no I have to get Teammate and Hug instead). Next closest are probably Samsa and bug because I have predictable picks

#long post #eye strain #queer #q power #icon #proseka icons #sekai 1000 follower special #leo/need #more more jump #vivid bad squad #wonderlands x showtime #nightcord at 25:00 #25 ji nightcord de #sapphillean #trans #transgender #polyam #polyamorous #fluidflux

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meeblo · 1 year ago

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Why do people hate IS3 compared to IS2?

I've seen a decent amount of people who dislike IS3 and prefer IS2, or even find IS3 to be a regression or a push away from what made IS2 good. This isn't me trying to refute those claims necessarily, just understand them

Here's two of the most common things I seem to see people say, and why I don't really understand them:

IS3 has more RNG run-killing bullshit This complaint probably comes from things like rejections and a few bad emergency ops (territorial tendencies, water and fire union, etc). While those things can be a pain, I personally find IS3 to have far less RNG compared to IS2. Wish Fulfilled nodes offering a choice of collectible rather than just a random one is far better for shaping the kind of synergies you want to get rolling, and the odds of losing out on a good collectible you really want are slim as you can reroll a 1. Fortuitous Opportunities likewise give you a chance to turn otherwise worthless collectibles into something that contributes to your overall strategy. Whereas in IS2 targeting an ending like Mouthpiece or Playwright is a hellish RNG farm to get maybe 10% of runs through the required random encounters to trigger it, in IS3 a solid majority of my runs see the encounter necessary for Last Knight, Ishar'mla, or both. Additional shop options such as rerolling or fighting Cannot also help to let you see more collectible choices throughout the run and give you more agency in shaping your synergies. Overall, I find that IS3's tough run ending stages are more than balanced out by the far greater agency IS3 gives you compared to IS2 in developing your collectible synergies. (and besides, those tough run ender stages aren't so bad when you get a feel for them. Unless you're going for Ishar'mla, rejections are also largely a nonissue so long as you avoid leaks or only burn objective shield. Even on high waves where you start at 70 light, I rarely end up getting a run killed by a rejection. If it's someone important hit, I reroll it, or utilize the emergency dispatch node. There's other nodes as well that can cure rejections. Always grab random reserve ops and never skip recruitments, they'll soak up rejections. Most rejections are barely an issue anyway, it's just the stat halving one that sucks).

IS3 is too hard, minimizing the freedom IS2 had to let you use non-meta characters Frankly I don't really understand this one. IS2 is far more strict with stages that require certain operators. Wandering medics are far more important to IS2 than IS3, as Nervous Impairment is generally a much more strategy-disrupting status effect than Corrosion. Stages like Justice are functionally an instant run ender without investing in a fast-starting DP generating strategy (cough, flagpipe). Drone heavy stages are more common in earlier floors, and IS2 has poison mist stages where IS3 doesn't have any, both serving as squad checks more than skill checks in the majority of circumstances. Difficulty wise, yes, IS3 does generally have harder enemies. But the mere presence of enemies with more stats, more mechanics, or both, does not require you to break out the meta operators. Texas alter is great for stunning drifting sea skimmers, but you know who else is? May, a 4 star. Kroos alter, given out for free. Regular Texas, free from pinboard missions. Aak with his talent. Ambriel, Beeswax, Click, Cliffheart who came free with your fucking xbox, Flametail, Mostima, Skyfire. The list goes on. Can't keep up with a retching broodmother killing your melee units and wasting your block? Have them attack a defensive recovery operator, they charge defensive skills real fast. Take them out with ranged units before you place melee units down, works great for maps like Omen. And as mentioned above, it's way easier to reliably get a good collectible setup without rng farming in IS3 than it is in IS2 due to having more agency in what collectibles you get.

Other Those are the main arguments I remember seeing, but I'm sure to have missed or forgotten others. Also, what perspective are people approaching this from relative to the rest of the game? Are the people complaining about Sanguinarch's Legacy in the same breath as Territorial Tendencies just people who haven't gotten to ep10 yet?

Feel free to correct me, clarify, or dispute anything said here.

#arknights #is3 #is2 #integrated strategies

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kaxenart · 1 year ago

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Lost in the Current

Posting this before I succumb to the siren song of "just keep editing"

A robot questioning their life choices meets a strange man and learns the joys of datahoarding.

6k words.

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TK-074 toyed with the bottle of beer as they sat at the end of the bar. Their system had no ability to get drunk or taste very much, but their back-up generator could turn almost anything into energy. Anything that was incompatible with energy generation would be removed in a compressed cube along with any other detritus that fell through the gaps of their frame later.

Being disposed of wasn’t an emergency that required using alcohol instead of charging up as they were at a half-charge, but sitting indoors was better than squatting in the streets. Robots were rarely ever freelance, most often being bought in large packages with their identical compatriots, so being alone instead of in a squad was a little odd unless one of them had been wrangled into fetching coffee. From what TK-074 had overheard from the surgeons, bars were the most cost-effective place to go to feel sorry for yourself, talk only if you wanted to, and avoid someone writing about how broken you were, like in therapy. TK-074 had seen only physical therapists before, but the surgeons seemed to view being told to visit the therapist for feelings as a great affront to their being.

The bartender had taken some pity on them and offered some cheap beer that the beings with taste buds had not taken a liking to. This bar wasn’t a particularly nice one, but a fancier one would be too expensive and not accept the fact they had to eschew wearing their one and only shirt and smelled like death, due to having been covered in the trash from the body trader hospital. TK-074 did not have much for scent receptors, only enough to supplement emergency systems warnings for fire or chemical leaks, but the disgusted looks of people on the street told them enough information.

Being a robot didn't allow much time for hobbies, or anything beyond work and recharging, really. Perhaps it didn’t count as a hobby, but they liked people-watching, partly out of curiosity, partly out of envy. TK-074 wasn’t supposed to feel envy. Perhaps a vague sense of gratitude towards the humans for building such a fine success of science as themself, but not envy. Or curiosity for that matter. A robot was supposed to be a docile worker with just enough opinions to pretend they were genuinely friendly. Just enough to feel less boring than talking to a faceless box.

Too many opinions, too many emotions, now that just made things messy. A pseudo-personality was all that was necessary to be a worker in a human-facing job. A medical records administrator didn’t even need a fancy pseudo-personality. That was for companion robots and sometimes sexbots.

It was probably the humans’ hubris thinking all intelligent things ought to be human-like causing this. Being designed to be human-analogous, but never human enough was a position in life that was giving TK-074 increasing levels of distress. They had tried to avoid thinking about it, but how could a robot who watched hundreds of humans pass by stop thinking about them?

Their body was a cheaply made approximation of a human, but as their work did not require them to look attractive, high-quality synthetic human parts were better spent on more profitable ventures. TK-074’s synthetic skin was supposed to make them more personable since humans like handshakes and such, but it ended where their clothing would normally be. The skin covering their face was attached somewhat securely, but the skin on their hands were more like gloves and shifted in weird ways whenever they needed to hold anything heavy. The cheapest type of skin was never dyed a convincingly natural color. There were too many natural shifts in color in natural skin to do at cheap mass production scale. The cheap dye also was not colorfast. Most of TK-074’s skin had turned a pallid yellow over their service life. Any attempt at hair was off the table for similar cost-cutting reasons. At a past job site, a cancer patient let them try on her wig for a lark. It did not look good, but at least the silliness cheered her up a little.

That slight bit of irritation of being unsure if it was programming or not leading them to put humans on a bit of a pedestal caused TK-074 to feel a strange itch in their neural network. We couldn’t have thousands of TK’s, SU’s, and et cetera going on homicidal rampages. Some of them did, regardless. The inability to decide how much of their sensations were personal feelings or built-in programming frustrated TK-074. They knew organic beings had something similar, it led to some of their stranger foibles. But something about being able to blame it on a man named Rod from 50 years ago seemed to make some sort of distinction.

A robot’s service life was short compared to a human lifespan. Maybe they just had to wait a hundred years to feel like a “proper” person. TK-074 wasn’t sure if their design was sound enough to last so long. While their frame was somewhat sturdy for its intended purpose, they would probably be too outdated for software updates in five years or less. Robot frames for indoor labor were often sold cheaply or at a loss while the software was more complicated. Maintaining software upgrades was where the money and control was. It was always impressed upon both the technicians and the robots themselves that it was a red flag to avoid system updates. A good proper docile worker does not resist trying to be a better machine. It was the best form of prevention against rogue development.

Rogue. The opposite of docile. Sometimes whole departments suddenly disappeared if management suspected the robots were going to stop being obedient. It was a problem that the humans wanted to stop before it got to what they called the Chaos stage. No one knew what a robot would do at that point. Maybe they’d kill someone. Maybe they’d spray paint the hospital pink. Maybe they’d just run off into the sunset. The news reports preferred to talk about the killing. Some ancient part of the human mind, older than robots, older than buildings, perhaps older than humanity itself, was enthralled by thinking about the most dangerous outcomes.

Although self-editing was against the rules, TK-074 reasoned that their intended purpose was improving themself. That wasn’t a bad thing to do. During a rare moment of having no tasks whatsoever, they had found a video explaining how to self-edit, labeled as a tutorial on making toy slime for children. TK-074 liked looking at the glitter in slime toys. Partly as a journey of self-discovery and partly to get an unpleasant middle manager to stop using them as a spy. Being acutely aware of how long any of their flesh coworkers spent on toilets and reporting it to the little megalomaniac was a real drag on the whole robot/human goodwill thing. Being a good friendly worker meant not harassing their flesh coworkers about their toileting habits. This seemed compatible with the customer service directive.

Their processing seemed to go faster after halting and deleting the background recording activity. Making friends with the flesh coworkers remained a task that TK-074 could not manage. Despite the spying not being specifically TK-074’s fault, the rift appeared to be something none of the flesh coworkers seemed to care to bridge. The problem seemed to go beyond the spying. One of the nurses called them stupid and equated the situation to trying to make friends with a broom when TK-074 inquired how to make things better.

The other robots thought TK-074 was wasting effort, and worse yet, risking their job, on something pointless. TK-073 told them that their desire to act closer to the humans was the incorrect way to interpret the customer service protocol. Customer service was about making things run smoothly, not being genuinely a friend. Letting things run smoothly meant running things how management wanted things run. TK-073 also declined TK-074’s request for friendship, pointing out that rolling off the factory line .03298 seconds after them and being kept as a set through different job sites implied no reason for familiarity. TK-073 also pointed out that working in the same vicinity also meant nothing, pointing to how two rival surgeons wanted to kill each other. TK-073 declined to respond when asked their favorite color. TK-074’s favorite color was blue. TK-073 declined using any memory space to remember this for later. The customer service directive did not require being particularly friendly to coworkers, flesh or machine, as they are not customers or clients or shareholders. As this conversation had already wasted more units of time and electricity than TK-073 cared to use for non-business purposes, they told TK-074 to shut up and input more medical data from the batch of indentured patients who were selling their bones.

The faceless janitorial Mop-O-Bot-5000 told TK-074 that humans would act like ungrateful bastards no matter how many times you clean diarrhea off the floor while motioning to a newly acquired dent they had received after someone had kicked them for moving too slowly. They didn't have any limbs, so this was mostly just waggling the backside of their trapezoidal prism at TK-074. Mop-O-Bot-5000 was very insistent that they always went at the exact correct regulated speed even though the hospital had some incorrectly built hallways where the laminate was bumpy, and worst of all, at 1% above the correct incline. TK-074 inquired if Mop-O-Bot-5000 would desire to call each other friends. Mop-O-Bot-5000 also declined, citing a lack of storage space on their basic system. Mop-O-Bot-5000 preferred to use a tiny extra unit of data on enemies, reasoning that risk assessment was infinitely more important, lest they acquire even more dents. Too many dents and their internal mechanisms might be affected by the decrease in body integrity and begin to malfunction. Malfunctions meant disposal.

Sometime after tweaking their background recording operations, TK-074 was allegedly standing in the room while something that potentially could be called severe misbehavior occurred. However, they had recorded nothing whatsoever and could not provide any evidence to exonerate the company’s flesh employees. TK-074 had attempted to explain that, regardless of the functionality of their surveillance module, they did not have an omnidirectional video recording ability and was looking at a display pad and therefore completely unaware of what the surgeon in navy blue scrubs was doing, but the technician had no sympathy. The technician seemed more cross that he might be reprimanded for not catching the malfunction sooner.

Having committed the greatest sin in all of capitalism: costing the company money, TK-074 had been written up for disposal. A company didn’t become a multi-billion venture if they didn't cut corners until the square became a dodecagon. Reprogramming took time and money. The company was supposed to pay a recycling fee for all the planet-killing components in their body, but no one wanted to pay that. The planet was already dying. What is a little more toxic trash? The hospital’s porters grabbed TK-074 while they were charging and half-asleep and unceremoniously tossed them in the dumpster to make it the garbageman's problem. The porters didn’t even shut them off completely. TK-074 scuttled out long before it was time for trash pick-up.

Much of their neural network was clogged with modules malfunctioning due to contradicting facts because being off the job site was wrong, but TK-074 didn’t have a job anymore. TK-074’s directives did not supply any information on what to do after being trashed improperly. The data assumed TK-074 would be shut off by now. TK-074 considered ripping out a few chips, but did not know which ones to remove.

A nice clean factory reset could send them back to the beginning. TK-074 would not remember anything after a factory reset. In fact, TK-074 would be none the wiser if they had been reset before. However, something about the idea of that course of action felt wrong. Self-preservation, perhaps?

TK-074 wasn’t sure if they were supposed to have an opinion about self-preservation. TK-074 wasn’t sure if they were supposed to have a self to preserve. There was supposed to be no difference of opinion between TK-000, TK-999, and the rest of the batch in between. They were meant to be interchangeable. Robots did not seek destruction, but the idea of death, reset, or overwrite generally did not scare them, certainly not to the degree humans reacted. The alarms would go off and doctors and nurses would bolt through the hospital for a special dying person. There would be a lot of screaming and yelling if they failed.

“Hey! You alone?” a voice shook TK-074 out of their thoughts.

TK-074 glanced at the creature that sidled up to them. They couldn’t decide what the creature was. A heavily modded human or a very strange robot. They assumed the creature was supposed to be some kind of animal, but TK-074 had never been installed with the data necessary for identifying anything more exotic than a dog or cat. It didn’t come up very much in hospitals for humans. Except for the time a woman insisted on having an emotional support peacock, a creature almost as strange as the comfort simulacrums known as teddy bears.

The creature of indeterminate species or model had a long pointy snout and small mouth. The body was covered in shiny iridescent overlapping flakes along their topline which led to a tail that dragged on the ground. The hands looked human-like at the palms, but the claws were longer than anyone would usually keep them, especially amongst the medical workers who needed short fingernails lest they be written up for wasting too many nitrile gloves. The softer underside had very short fur, like a shiny velvet. The creature maintained some degree of modesty with a halter top and wrap pants that were tied in the back in similar fashion. The girth of the tail made TK-074 unsure if it was modest enough, but TK-074 was not rude enough to look closely at the underside of the tail. The legs and feet were quite thick compared to the average human and adorned with claws and presumably why wearing shoes was skipped.

“Yes.” TK-074 nodded as they tried to make heads or tails of the creature. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to reveal they were alone. TK-074’s risk assessment abilities were a bit lost at this point.

“What’s got a robot drinking by themself?” the creature asked. “You’d think they’d patch out depression for the sake of capitalist efficiency. Is it a feature or a bug?”

TK-074 wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not. Jokes were difficult for TK-074 to parse. It was very much a bug, albeit one that programmers had not yet figured out how to patch completely, even if they did push a patch out quarterly.

“Humans aren’t as good at programming as they think they are.” TK-074 also did not have much data about historical events, but anyone decrepitly old usually had a mild suspicion of robots due to the time a misplaced comma caused a war, or at least that is how it was explained to them. Younger folk were more likely to treat TK-074 with the same amount of awe as a lamppost.

“I can help you out,” the creature said. The creature leaned in so close their noses almost touched. TK-074 had never met someone who showed this much interest in their affairs.

People who looked bizarre were either bosses or pets. People who were in the middle could not afford the most extreme modifications. People with all the money could be whatever they wanted. People with so little money that it was in the negative were the type to sell themselves to body traders to be used however their benefactors pleased. Sometimes they were rebuilt in thoroughly unrecognizable ways.

As the creature was alone, it was safe to assume possession of some kind of high status. Little pets should never be left alone because their inhibitions and danger-assessment skills were always set to nonexistent.

TK-074 supposed they were not much more than a lost pet in some ways. But they knew no one was looking for them. However, being looked for didn’t really necessarily mean you’d ever be found.

“Are you a scrapper?” TK-074 leaned away from the creature.

“What? No!” The creature sounded offended by the suggestion.

“I don’t have the data to guess what you are,” TK-074 said.

“Have you never seen a pangolin?” the creature asked.

“I’m a medical office bot, and only human hospitals,” TK-074 said. “As my job requires no extreme strain, I am built with the cheapest components available at the time of my manufacture and that includes not installing data that is not absolutely necessary to my job.”

“A shame,” the pangolin said.

“Do pangolins have names?” TK-074 asked.

“Triginta.”

“What are you? Flesh or files?” TK-074 asked.

��Hmmm… Have you ever heard of the Ship of Theseus?”

“No”

“So imagine a boat.”

“Okay.” TK-074 imagined a boat from a motivational poster. They had never really seen a boat in front of them.

“If you swap out every piece of the boat, is it the same boat?”

“Is every new piece identical in function to the old pieces?”

“No.”

“Guess not. If you stick enough car parts on it, it might not be a boat.”

“Then think of it like that. I wasn’t always a pangolin guy, but I am a pangolin guy now and I don’t think it really matters what I started as. I’m just the exact blend of organic and inorganic composites that I want to be.”

TK-074 found the idea peculiar. Legally, there was a sharp line between whether an entity began as organs or not. Even a human so heavily augmented as to be a nervous system in jelly inside a machine, was still legally distinct from a robot. This was part of the reason companies liked using robots.

To not make the distinction at all confused TK-074.

That distinction was why they were not worth befriending.

That distinction was why they were in the dumpster.

“So it’s like how OS 10.5 overrides OS 10.4, but more dramatically.” They tried to connect it to something that made sense to them.

“And you?” Triginta circled fingers in the air around TK-074’s silhouette. “Are you… sticking with factory settings?”

“I edited myself because I wanted my coworkers to like me,” TK-074 said. “And then I got in trouble.”

“Oof. If corpo assassins are going to kill you, I know a guy who could help.”

“No. They just threw me in the dumpster. Bounty hunters and repair programmers must cost more than writing me off as shrinkage. They didn’t even want to hire a proper scrapper service.”

“How rough.” Triginta reached out a hand, pausing slightly before making contact. “Do you like being patted?”

“You can try? I’ve never had anyone pat me.”

Triginta patted them lightly on the shoulder, almost imperceptibly to TK-074’s composite frame, before going for a slightly more firm grip, rubbing the thumb in circles around the top of the joint.

For a moment TK-074’s processing stopped. Their LED eyes reset to the default straight stare for a moment.

“You okay there?”

“Normal function resumed. That’s. Uh. That’s nice. I like that.” TK-074 blinked a few times. “I would like it if you do that again later.”

“Good, good.” Triginta’s small mouth curved into a big smile.

TK-074 loosened up their body.

“Do you think you’ll feel better if you talk about it some more?”

TK-074 guessed that it wouldn’t hurt, but their risk assessment module wasn’t actually providing good data on this.

“I’m TK-074. I have three bits to my name and I am spending it on, uh, Beaver Balls Brewery? I literally lost my shirt because it was covered in disembodied organs, blood, and fecal matter. My pants are only doing slightly better.”

Their pants were still slightly soggy, but at least they smelled like soap now. Hopefully it was enough soap.

“And this was the first bar that would let me use the restroom. The bartender is very nice.”

“Yeah, I’ve known Eika for a long while. She’s a good bean.”

The bartender looked up from the glasses she was wiping and gave a small wave.

“Do you have a plan on where you are going?” Triginta asked.

“No. I do not have data for what the optimal next activity should be. I am not sure if this one is an optimal activity either.”

“You can stay at my place. I got some real nice power outlets,” Triginta said.

“What kind of tasks do you want me to do?”

“Tasks?”

“The hospital paid me in electricity. I have to do tasks for electricity.”

“No, you don’t.”

TK-074 stared at Triginta. There were a lot of things outside the hospital that they didn’t know about.

An endless flow of people sold their bodies to the body trader, paying for their debts with flesh. Some of them seemed very sad, but not as sad after the surgeons rebuilt them. It was better to allow anything to happen than not have a task to do for a place to rest. TK-074 thought that this was why TK-073 and the others considered them a fool to risk it all to settle some curiosity. TK-074 had never really questioned the idea of being given electricity and a closet to rest in with the other robots. Sometimes Mop-O-Bot-5000 cleaned it extra nicely in exchange for an extra shiny wipedown of their own trapezoidal prism shell.

“Never really gone outside of hospitals, huh?”

“Except for transport to each new job site, I have never been further than where the ambulances park and where the surgeons go out back to smoke.”

“What do you want to do? If you don’t have to worry about electricity and so on.”

“I don’t really know what I want to do.” TK-074 glanced nervously at Triginta. “Are you sure I don’t have to do tasks?”

“You can help me, of course, but I am not going to threaten you with running dry or scrapping if you don’t want to do anything at all.”

“How can you afford to have robots that do nothing?”

“Oh, I’m retired.”

“From what kind of job?”

“A lot of them.”

TK-074 wasn’t even going to try to search their database for a theory, for they knew their limited knowledge of the world would provide nothing. Perhaps it was risky to not question it further, but it was also risky to survive alone. TK-074’s risk assessment module was trying its best, but it had run out of ideas on how to predict what to do next.

“Wanna come with? Or you gonna sort yourself out alone?” Triginta asked.

“Yes. I will come with you,” TK-074 said.

At the very least, maybe they could get another pat.

–––

TK-074 wasn’t sure if they were even supposed to be in the part of town they ended up in. So many subway stops and so many strange passages before Triginta led them to an apartment in a location TK-074 wasn’t even sure had a coordinate to cite if they wanted to find it again without the pangolin.

Triginta rubbed the soles of his feet on a brush by the door before sticking it into a sanitizing machine.

“Just take off your shoes before coming in, will you?”

Going barefoot felt weird to TK-074. They hadn’t been without shoes for almost their entire existence. Their feet were cheap uncovered composite like most of their body. No separate toes, just a few hinges to help adjust to different floor conditions.

“Actually, stick them into the sanitizer for a sec.”

“Yes.” TK-074 stuck them into the sanitizer before putting them on a shelf by the doorway.

Triginta’s apartment was large, but so overstuffed with things that it reminded TK-074 of when the resupply shipments made an error and brought 100000 instead of 10000. Supplies for possibly every venture imaginable filled the place and were stacked in a barely orderly manner on shelves that lined the walls and tables and in bins on the floor. It was the type of off-kilter that would confuse the cheapest of warehouse bots that demanded perfectly organized packets, but not too much of a task for the ones that came with more complex grabber hands.

TK-074 wasn’t sure what they wanted to look at first, but then their eyes fell on a large glass box full of water.

TK-074 stared at the shiny wiggly things.

“What are these?”

“Fish, zebra danios.”

“They’re very beautiful.”

“Do you want to feed them?”

“Yes.”

Triginta pulled a little jar out from the cabinet the aquarium was on.

“Just give them a pinch.”

TK-074 was transfixed as the fish frantically swam and snapped up the tiny pellets of food.

“I’m going to have to show you some animal documentaries.”

“How many animals are there in the world?”

“A lot less after the corpos took over, but I can show you some antique documentaries about life before that.”

“Ooh! Ancient history!”

“The bathroom is over there so you can give yourself a more thorough clean. I’m going to dig up new clothes for you. And clear off the sofa so there’s somewhere to sit.”

“Do you have anything blue? I like blue.”

“Probably do.”

TK-074 carefully stepped around boxes on the floor over to the bathroom.

TK-074 tossed their pants into the laundry hamper emblazoned with a silly little image of a man rolling a ball of socks up a hill.

Now that TK-074 wasn’t beholden to an automatic faucet that turned off every 5 seconds, they could do a more thorough scrub beyond just hoping they didn’t smell like a dumpster. Unidentified solids around their joints was something best tended to sooner than later.

A bottle of soap promising the most realistic lavender scent in addition to being the best for cleaning both organic and inorganic body parts was very different from the soap at the hospital which was scent-neutralizing. TK-074 had no idea if the claim about the scent was accurate.

Their mechanical parts were much glossier after using it, though. Their modest amounts of synthetic skin still looked unimpressive.

When TK-074 came back out of the bathroom, Triginta’s living room was reorganized so that the sofa was visible, a large monitor was set up in front of the sofa, and now there was a clear pathway between the bathroom, the sofa, and the other doorways. The sofa looked like it had seen better days. It was covered in patches.

“What do you think?” Triginta asked as he held up a t-shirt and elastic shorts set that was light blue with very pointy darker blue fish on it.

“I’ve never picked clothes before.”

“Well, they should fit, at least.”

TK-074 pulled them on.

“Do I look okay?” It was a far cry from the business-casual shirt and slacks combination that they had become accustomed to. Clothing was partly aesthetic and partly useful. It was cheaper than protecting all the joints with synthetic skin. The seal was not as good, but it did the job as long as TK-074 kept an eye on lint and dust buildup.

“You look fine.”

“Oh good.”

“If you don’t mind, I want to check your system,” Triginta said. “It’s a bit easier to do these things with outside help than trying to stay conscious with half your system undocked.”

“I do not mind.”

“Did it scare you to do it on your own?”

“I do not feel fear in a pronounced manner. There was risk, of course. I do not think I calculated it with complete accuracy. All my calculations since then have been difficult to decide upon. 20% certainty is much harder to work with than 95%.”

“What drove you to take that risk? The data errors that make going rogue possible are often random, but the decision to disobey isn't."

“I’m not rogue! I told you I did it because I only wanted the flesh coworkers to not hate me. I was a good medical records keeper! I have never had a problem at work!”

“Self-editing is very rogue, even if it was done with good intentions.”

“My job is to keep things running smoothly and my flesh coworkers did not like how much I was programmed to spy on them.”

“Are you lonely?”

“I’m not supposed to be able to get lonely.”

“Any sufficiently complex system can have unexpected developments. You’re neither the first nor the last time something like this will happen.”

“I was curious too. I am not sure if I am supposed to be curious either.”

“Oh the corpos really don’t like that one,” Triginta laughed bitterly.

“I was a good employee.”

“It doesn’t matter to the company. You started changing. You could have started tweaking the other robots.”

“But I wouldn’t. They didn’t want to change. TK-073 told me I was stupid.”

“Worker robots are programmed to crave consistency above all.”

“Loneliness, curiosity, what is going on with me? Are these my feelings or am I just a malfunction?” TK-074 felt uncomfortable. Worse than anything that had ever happened to them. Worse than when they had .01253 seconds to parse data that was delivered late due to a network error, but they would get in trouble if it wasn’t fixed by the deadline.

Their risk assessment module kept spitting out useless numbers. 7% accuracy. 5% certainty. 2%. 0%. 1%.

TK-074’s frame twitched a little as they stared blankly forward as the modules that built up their neural network tried to figure out how to cut down on risk.

Time to go back to the hospital. Can’t go back to the hospital.

Triginta wrapped his arms around TK-074.

“It’s going to take time to figure out. It’s okay if you feel weird and messy right now,” Triginta said.

“Keep hugging me, please.”

“Sure, sure.” Triginta patted TK-074’s back.

Though they did not move, hundreds of calculations were running. None of them provided any useful information. This wasn’t the job. This wasn’t the hospital. This wasn’t the directive.

“You’re starting to run a little hot. You okay?” Triginta asked.

“I’ve never had a whole day where I had no idea what I am supposed to do.”

“Your job right now is to be inefficient. You can’t learn and be efficient at the same time.”

TK-074 nearly flinched at the word “inefficient.” It was the prelude to being trash. Or being trashed again. They had already been trashed once.

“I can’t tell you how long it will take to feel like you know what you’re doing, that is part of being independent, but if you want to do this, I will make sure you have the resources.”

“Why are you helping me? Why aren’t you scrapping me? Why aren’t you resetting and flipping me? I don’t understand.”

“We all grow together or we keep the same crap world with changing coats of paint,” Triginta said.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t think society will ever change for the better as long as we seek to put someone at the bottom that we can treat with impunity. Humanity has done it over and over. It’s exhausting.”

“What will you do to fix it? Are you going to… are you–” TK-074 had a hard time saying the words.

“Start a revolution? Revolt?”

“The things I am not supposed to talk about.”

“Someday.” Triginta gave out a wistful sigh.

“Oh.” TK-074’s mind shot like fireworks as some module suggested that they jump out the window. That would solve nothing, but they would not be standing next to a criminal.

“You don’t have to join me. It would be wrong to force you,” Triginta said. “I will help you regardless.”

“I’m… I’m not sure.” TK-074 said.

“If you really just want a factory reset and to pretend nothing ever happened, I can do that too. I can just fence you to a company.”

“No!” TK-074 blurted out.

They were a little surprised by the outburst.

“Your heart knows,” Triginta said with a small smile.

“I don’t have a heart.” TK-074 wasn’t even sure what part of their neural network that came out of.

“Figure of speech.”

“What are you going to do to my system if I want to go… y’know,” TK-074 asked.

“First, I’m going to check your system for any catastrophic data errors. Don’t want you suddenly locking and freezing up.”

“Yes.”

“Second, I’m going to install some extra memory sticks. You’re going to need more if you’re going to free-roam. You can fill in as much data as you want. I can add more later, also.”

“Yes.”

“Third, I’m going to make sure the TEDEcorp network can’t ping you. The quarterly OS upgrade is coming up in a few weeks and we don’t need to give them more statistics about how many robots who don’t update.”

“If you’re doing… something… against the rules, am I giving you away by being here?”

“Oh no. They’re supposed to monitor all bots at all times, but for cheap ones who don’t have too much secret data, they only use the OS upgrade ping. Now if you were an escaped military bot who had classified intel, I would be a lot more stressed out right now.”

“Is that the most dangerous thing you’ve done?”

“No, but I’m going to save that story for later.”

“Is there anything else you’re going to change?”

“I’m just going to focus on function right now. Recalibrating and editing modules is something we can talk about later. I don’t want to make a massive edit without more observation and getting to know you.”

Triginta hooked up a cord to the port at the back of TK-074’s head. TK-074 sat down on the sofa beside Triginta as the pangolin started typing into a computer.

“I’ll wake you up when I am done.” Triginta said.

–––

“Alrighty. All done.” Triginta’s voice cut through the darkness as TK-074 came back on.

Being turned off and turned on seemed to clear TK-074 a little. They still felt nervous.

“Feel okay? As okay as you can in the circumstances, at least,” Triginta checked his computer for another moment.

“I don’t feel worse.”

“Good. Good.” Triginta unplugged from TK-074’s port.

“Now get comfortable. I think we’ve had enough stressful conversations for you for now,” Triginta said.

“I’m allowed to put off difficult work for later?”

“Yeah. Oh yeah. If no one’s going to die, don’t overclock yourself over it,” Triginta said as he handed the computer tablet to TK-074. “I’m gonna get some snacks and an electrical plug. Pick what you think is interesting.”

TK-074 looked at the list of videos. The realization there were enough fish to have more videos about them than time they had been turned on was a surprise.

“This is a lot of fish.”

“Is this the right plug for you? I can dig through my adapters if you need one.” Triginta handed an electrical cord to TK-074.

“It’s good.” TK-074 opened up the electrical port cover on the side of their abdomen.

Triginta’s tongue was much longer than TK-074 expected as he slurped up some kind of nutritional paste out of a long thin cup.

“So? Which one interests you?”

“All of them?” TK-074 poked at a random one.

“Haha. Good, good,” Triginta smiled as he leaned against TK-074.

“You don’t see me as a broom. We can be friends, right?” TK-074 asked.

“You don’t even have bristles, bud,” Triginta said as he wrapped his arms around TK-074.

TK-074 snuggled against Triginta. Triginta’s underside was nice and soft.

The soothing voice of some long-dead man narrated over the videos. Fish that flew out of the water. Fish that mimicked other fish. Fish that had teeth that looked like human teeth. Fish that had gigantic eyes to see in the dark. Fish that lived in little holes. Fish that swam in great churning mobs like the flying drones. Fish that made elaborate designs in sand. Fish that came out of the water. Fish that nibbled away rocks. And the rocks were alive. How could tiny little rocks be alive?

Except they weren’t now. Bleached skeletons was all that was left.

TK-074 was becoming a little less sure about humans being worthy of being on a pedestal, especially the ones running corporations. Even these videos from so long ago complained about them. And the ocean looked so alive back then.

How many times had trying to change things for the better failed?

“How old are you? Do you remember when it was like that?” TK-074 asked.

“I’m not that old. This is like fifty years before I was conscious,” Triginta said.

“That’s such a long time ago,” TK-074 whispered in awe.

“Maybe you’ll last a long time too,” Triginta said.

“I’m designed to break.”

“I’m skilled at fixing things.”

TK-074’s eyes moved from the monitor back to Triginta. The idea of outliving their service life had never occurred to them.

“Gee.” There was probably a stronger word to use, but TK-074 felt weird to use something stronger.

Being able to say whatever they wanted was going to take some getting used to. TK-074 pondered the possibilities of being able to say all the expletives. The surgeons always had very creative expletives, like imaginary scenarios regarding shoving something into an anal cavity until it came out the other end of the digestive system.

One time it was literal.

Another video started up and TK-074 stared at the recording of fish puffing up into a ball of spikes as a defense mechanism.

Somewhere in the hours and hours of fish videos, Triginta had fallen asleep, though TK-074 didn’t mind as the pangolin’s heavy body on theirs was soothing.

There was some relief in filling their data storage full of fish facts. It seemed to give less space for worrying. Or at least now TK-074 had something to mark as Important in the files over thinking about not being at work.

Yes, it was very important that there was a fish that could lay flat under the sand. This was useless to know. An inefficient use of storage, but it filled TK-074 with a sort of glee they had never felt before.

TK-074 wrapped their arms around Triginta before shutting down for the night.

#writing #short story #TKverse #TK-074 #Triginta

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tumblydove · 7 months ago

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Hee-Hawesome Fact #5: TVO Kids, infamous for leaking episodes of shows such as Wild Kratts and Odd Squad, has also done the same with Donkey Hodie. Sometime in 2022, A Donkey Hodie Halloween, Snow Day, and Snow Surprise Challenge were aired on the channel, and in September 29th, 2022, the Halloween special and Snow Surprise Challenge were uploaded to YouTube without region locks, leaking the episodes worldwide. The episodes would remain like this for a few days before the issue was resolved.

#donkey hodie #tvokids #pbs kids #hee-hawesome facts

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koneko-pi · 2 years ago

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Sharing on Tumblr a little cut from my Fanfic Silver Season. Its on AO3 right now and idk if I'll be putting it on here too, that seems like such long posts sometimes XD but if people want to see it I will try! But here, just a part of the 3000+ word first Chapter.

Emergency captains meetings had, at one point, been few and far between. And Nozel would not have to schedule himself so sparingly so he could be called upon at any moment's notice. But recently it seemed like every other day he was being summoned up to the Wizard kings castle to listen to everyone bicker amongst each other. Even now down the empty hall he could hear Yami's overly loud voice arguing with, most likely, Jack.

"Do you two ever shut up?" Nozel commented to them as he walked through the doors and over to his own space to sit down between Dorothy and Jack.

"You can shove it Braid-Face." Yami was immediately on the defensive over whatever topic had him so worked up.

The silver mage had already been in a foul mood that day but to be so atrociously insulted, by a foreigner no less, had his mana flaring up already.

"You need to calm down." Fuegoleon, newly appointed back into his position, pushed himself in before some kind of fight could take place. "We're all tired and tempers are short. There's no need to antagonize one another, especially not in front of Julius who is in the worst state of us all."

All heads turned to their now tiny wizard king, who looked incredibly apologetic at having to summon them here once again.

"Please forgive me…" he said as soothingly as he could. If it had come from anyone else the captains would not have calmed down as quickly as they did.

"What brings us all together this time?" Nozel asked after gaining his composure again.

"Yeah, no offense Julius, but some of us really got our plates full." Yami huffed, a cigarette was held tightly between two fingers but was unlit. It was pretty obvious how badly he wanted to light it though.

What Yami was referring to was the unfair task placed upon his squad after the Elven attack, repel, and then trial of his squad mate Asta. Not only did the bulls have their hands full looking into Devil nonsense but everyone else was still busy repairing not just the kingdom but their own reputations. Many of the citizens had lost a lot of faith in their Magic knights after it seemed they had turned against them as traitors. As a result everyone was running themselves ragged and tempers were short.

And that was no different for the captains, organizing the work forces on top of attending these regular meetings, they too were all looking incredibly tired.

"I really do apologize for summoning you all so suddenly." Julius sighed. "But I promise this time it's important."

Rather than explain himself what was happening he nodded to Jack.

"Keh…" the man seemed bitter as he turned and shouted to the doors. "You can bring it in!"

"Bring it in?" Charlotte looked confused, mirroring everyone else in the room as two Green Mantis knights came in carrying a large blanket-wrapped something.

"Good lord, what is that stench!?" Kaiser was first to recoil from the horrid odor that was permeating the room.

"Is it that?!" William was leaning away as the two magic knights tossed their load over onto the meeting table. Its bindings came undone to reveal what was inside…

"That's the biggest ant I've ever seen!" Rill gawked at it. It was a suspicion the boy had an odd interest in magical beasts with how often he used them in paintings. This reaction just further proved it.

Laying now on their table, undoubtedly dead, was a massive Ant. Its body was a shiny red color with a foul smelling green fluid leaking out of open gash wounds that must have taken its life. There was no shine to its lifeless eyes and over all the creature was easily the size of a large dog.

#black clover #black clover oc #fuegoleon vermillion #fuegoleon #oc x canon #black clover anime #black clover fanfic #nozel x oc #nozel silva #I know some of you have already seen this XD #thank you for all the advice

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fillyboy19 · 1 year ago

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Coming Home

In his inebriated state, Bakugou really thinks that he’s being quiet. He’s unaware that the ‘soft’ cursing he’s doing as he fumbles around trying to get his boots off by the door is actually his full on voice, just shy of shouting. He’s unaware of the obnoxious thud his heavy boots make as they drop to the floor. He’s unaware that even as he stumbles over, crashing into the shelf next to the door, that Midoriya is already awake, standing frustratedly in the doorway.

“Oh…ffuuuuck.” Bakugou bends down to pick up pieces of a figure in his hand and looks at them as if it’s their fault they’re broken. “I–Izu’s gonna b’pissed.”

Midoriya couldn’t do anything but watch as his favorite collectible All Might figure crashed to the ground and broke. It was rare, only twenty-five of them had ever been made. It had been a production mistake, the red and white stripes on his boots had been inverted and the mistake hadn’t been caught until after the first twenty-five had already gone out. And now it lay shattered in pieces in Bakugou’s hand.

Midoriya is very pissed, but he’s also tired and sore, so rather than start a fight with his drunk husband, he simply pulls the pieces out of Bakugou’s hand. Bakugou looks up at him with an uncharacteristically goofy grin plastered on his face. And normally, Midoriya would smile back and think to himself how cute that odd grin is because he doesn’t get to go out and let loose like this often; but right now, his back hurts and the skin on his belly feels like it’s being pulled too tightly, and the baby is kicking his kidneys and he just wants to lay down and go back to bed and not deal with his drunken husband right now. So Midoriya tosses the broken pieces onto the couch and slowly drags Bakugou to bed.

It only takes a light shove for Bakugou to tumble back onto the bed, and once his head hits the pillow, he’s out cold and Midoriya is left to wrangle his jeans off for him. Bakugou is heavy and normally that’s not an issue but trying to pull skintight jeans off the bulky muscular frame with his seven-month, large, round belly in his way, and a full aching bladder leaves Midoriya frustrated and breathless by the time he’s done.

He sits on the edge of the bed for a moment before another kick sends him practically running to the bathroom to relieve himself. He idly rubs his belly, talking out loud to the growing baby in his stomach soothingly as he makes his way back to the front door to straighten Bakugou’s boots and then the living room to pick up the pieces of his All Might Figure. He can’t help the tears that well up in his eyes as he thumbs over one of the broken pieces. He knows it was an accident. He knows that Bakugou has been stressed lately, and that he hasn’t had a chance to hang out with the squad in a long time. He knows that Bakugou is a good husband and that this is all just his hormones but he’s just so angry right now. So, he lets himself sob until his eyes stop leaking and throws the pieces in the trash can.

He lays back down next to Bakugou and the loudly snoring blonde rolls over, pressing against him, and nuzzling into his neck, letting out an obnoxious snort. Midoriya is tempted to violently shove him out of the bed, but he resists, instead putting his head to Bakugou’s chest and basking in his warmth and the way his muscular arm drapes over him, pulling him close. He manages a few more hours of sleep before the sharp ache in his bladder once again wakes him up. He relieves himself and starts a pot of coffee before padding into the nursery.

The crib lays in pieces on the floor. Nothing has been painted or put together. Clothes for the baby are still in bags on the rocking chair in the corner. They only have three more months if the baby doesn’t come early, and nothing is ready. The longer Midoriya stands in the doorway the angrier he gets. If Bakugou hasn’t done it in the last seven months, then he isn’t likely to get it done so Midoriya rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and kneels down on the floor to inspect the directions. It can’t be that hard to put together a crib. Can it?

Bakugou’s head feels like it’s splitting in two as he crawls slowly out of bed. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in the back of his skull and to add to that there is obnoxiously loud banging coming from somewhere in the apartment. He stops by the kitchen to grab some coffee and down some aspirin before searching for the incessant banging that is threatening to split his skull. He finds the banging coming from his very pregnant husband who is hammering away at something that clearly does not need hammering on. “What the hell are you doing?”

Midoriya turns to give Bakugou an exasperated stare. “What does it look like I’m doing, Kacchan?”

“It looks like you’re banging shit with a hammer at five in the morning on a fuckin’ Sunday.” Bakugou leans in the doorway, sipping at his coffee. When I have a damn hangover.

Midoriya turned back to the directions on the floor in front of him, the hand not holding the hammer rubbing idly at his sore back. “Well, if you’d have done it two months ago, like you promised. I wouldn’t be trying to do it. This baby is coming whether or not this room is put together, and if you won’t do it, I’ll get it done myself.”

“Seriously, nerd. Stop before you hurt yourself with that thing.” Bakugou says, pinching his brows in frustration.

“I’m perfectly capable of working a hammer, Kacchan.” Midoriya turns from the directions and starts to once again bang on the piece of wood that just won’t connect like it’s supposed to.

“Izu, will you stop fuckin’ banging that thing. Feels like my damned head is gonna split open. You don’t even know what the hell you’re doing.” Bakugou knows that Midoriya is ignoring him as he continues to bang. “Fuckin’ hell, knock it off, Deku!”

Midoriya glares at Bakugou and contemplates throwing the hammer at him for a moment before setting it down and struggling to his feet. Bakugou comes over to help him and Midoriya waves him off. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help”

Bakugou watches Midoriya leave and stares at the mess he’s made of the one wooden piece. He’s probably going to have to replace it now. He can hear Midoriya fumbling around in the other room and goes to see what the commotion is. Midoriya has dropped his keys and is now struggling to bend down and he almost chuckles at the sight. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with Shouto today. I told you that.” Midoriya squats down and reaches backwards, finally getting his hands on his keys before standing and taking a deep breath. Three more months. Only three more months. I can’t get much bigger than this.

“Okay. Have fun.” Bakugou sits down and starts his Xbox, completely missing the look of irritation on Midoriya’s face.

Midoriya decides that it’s not worth the argument and that he’ll cool off while he and Shouto check out some local shops. “Please don’t forget we have the appointment at two.”

“Yeah, okay.” Midoriya watches Bakugou adjust his headset. “Hey, Denks.”

“Two, Kacchan. Please be on time.” Midoriya watches as Bakugou throws up a hand acknowledging him before he finally turns to leave.

*****

Bakugou is asleep on the couch when a loud crash wakes him up. He almost throws his headset as he startles awake, jumping to his feet, only to be met with Midoriya’s angry freckled face storming into the house. Midoriya bypasses Bakugou, not sparing him a word and goes straight to the bedroom, practically slamming the door in his face. “Izu?”

Bakugou opens the door to find Midoriya tossing clothes into his go-bag. “Izuku, where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to Shou’s for a few days.” Midoriya doesn’t look at Bakugou, he can’t or else he’s going to cry and right now he just wants to be angry. He throws the last few things in his bag and heads past Bakugou towards the door.

Bakugou tries to grab Midoriya's arm to stop him, but Midoriya pulls away from him. “Let’s talk about this, Izu.” Instead, he’s forced to follow Midoriya back into the living room.

“No. Kacchan. I’ve been talking about this for weeks. You haven’t been listening.” Midoriya doesn’t bother to turn around, but he can feel Bakugou behind him and he almost wants to dare Bakugou to touch him one more time, he’s so angry.

Bakugou follows Midoriya, still unsure what the hell his problem is. “Is this one of your hormone things? Like when I ate your ice cream?”

Midoriya had just set his hand on the doorknob, when Bakugou’s words cut through him. He can’t keep the tears from falling down his face as he turns to face the blonde. He’s so wrapped up in hurt that all his anger has left him, and his voice comes out as barely a whisper. “You’re such an ass, Kacchan.”

Bakugou watches the door close behind Midoriya, leaving him standing alone, and confused in their apartment. He stands there staring at the door for he doesn’t even know how long trying to figure out why Midoriya was so angry. Finally, when he comes back to himself, he texts Shouto to make sure Midoriya has gotten there safely. Shouto sends him a snarky response, and he closes out his phone without responding. He knows that Midoriya is okay and that’s all that matters right now.

Bakugou figures it’s a hormone thing and that Midoriya will sleep it off. That night though, he struggles more than normal to fall asleep without Midoriya next to him. The next day on patrol he’s restless and more irritable than usual. He knows Midoriya won’t be home, so he accepts Mina’s invitation to join the squad for dinner.

“Aww... Midoriya didn’t come with you? I haven’t gotten a chance to feel the baby kick yet.” Mina laments, pouting at Bakugou.

“Where is Midoriya?” Sero asks.

Bakugou can feel the heat flush in his ears as his eyes shift to Kirishima’s. Midoriya was still at Shouto and Kirishima’s place and he’d probably already heard all of this so there was no way he could lie about it. “Went to Eiji & Todoroki’s place for a few days.”

“Katsuki Bakugou, what did you do?” Mina scolds.

He scowls at her for just assuming that he fucked up. Honestly though, he knows it’s a fair assumption because he’s pretty sure he fucked up; he just doesn’t know what exactly he did. He also knows that they won’t leave him alone, until he explains, so he walks them through everything while they eat.

“So, you just let him go?” Mina asks, pinning Bakugou with an accusatory gaze as she sets her fork down.

“He about bit me when I grabbed his fuckin’ arm. I wasn’t about to do it again.” Bakugou says.

“Dude, so you just let him leave?” Denki chimes in, crossing his arms.

Bakugou can feel his anger building. Where did they get off judging him? And what the hell had he actually done wrong? “What the hell was I supposed to do? He asked for space, I’m fuckin’ givin’ it to him.”

“You were supposed to follow him, you ass.” Mina says, getting up from the table and pulling Sero away with her.

“Not cool, dude.” Kaminari says, getting up to follow after the duo.

Bakugou swears that Kaminari has no clue what’s going on and only left so he didn’t get stuck with the check, but someone could let him in on what the hell he did wrong. “I don’t even know why he was so fuckin’ angry!” Bakugou angrily calls after him.

“Bakubro, you need to grow up a bit dude.” Kirishima says. “You haven’t even so much as texted him.”

“He said he wanted fuckin’ space.” Bakugou’s shoulders fall. If anyone is going to help him out, it will be Kirishima, he’s certain of that. He has to. “Are you gonna tell me what I did wrong, since everyone else seems to know? Or are you just going to tell me how much of an ass I am too?”

“Shou’s gonna kill me when he finds out I told you instead of letting you figure this out on your own.” Kirishima sighs. “You came home drunk as fuck and broke one of Izuku’s irreplaceable figures. He’s been asking you for weeks to put that crib together. And you forgot the ultrasound appointment.”

Realization dawns on Bakugou, “Fuck. The appointment.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima says. “Look, you made a mess of this situation. I told you what you did wrong, and I shouldn’t have even done that. I’m gonna be in the doghouse for weeks now when Shouto finds out.” Kirishima stands up to leave. “I’m not helping you clean it up this time. Grow up and get your shit together. Apologize, and stop being an ass while you’re at it. I’d like to have my boyfriend and my bed back sometime soon.”

Bakugou can’t help the frown that crosses his face at the thought of Midoriya hurting and Shouto curled up against him comforting him. “Deku’s sleeping in your bed?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s not like we have a spare, and I’m not gonna put a pregnant dude on the couch. I’m not an ass.” Kirishima walks away to leave Bakugou to sit in silence and realize how much of a jerk he really has been.

He pays for the meal and walks home thinking about how hurt Deku had looked when he’d closed the door and he suddenly realizes how close he came to fucking everything up. When he gets home, he puts the crib together. He works through the rest of the night painting and setting up the rest of the nursery. He goes through the appointment calendar and puts reminders in his phone for the rest of them. It’s almost four in the morning by the time he’s gotten everything cleaned up and put away. Hot, sweaty, and overheated, he grabs a water from the kitchen and spots the All Might figure in the trash. He digs the pieces out and spends the rest of the morning gluing it back together.

It’s almost nine in the morning when he finishes, having almost glued his fingers together twice. He sets the figure on the counter. It’s still broken. Bakugou understands all too well that when you break something you can’t ever make it the way it was again. The cracks at the joints will always be there no matter how much glue he uses or how much he wants to erase them. All he can do is make sure that he doesn’t break it anymore.

His thoughts led him to Midoriya and how he was probably curled up against Shouto now. The thought no longer made him angry. He was sad that he’d been so stupid and pushed Midoriya so far. He was also grateful that Midoriya had someone who cared about him enough to help him through this. He’s tired, and he can practically hear the couch calling to him, but with so much at stake, he drags his ass over to Kirishima & Shouto’s place and knocks on the door.

Shouto answers, keeping his body in the small opening of the doorway, his irritation only thinly veiled. “What do you want, Bakugou?”

Bakugou bristles visibly at Shouto’s treatment, but he tries to be calm. “Just let me in, Icy-Hot.”

“It’s my home, Bakugou and I don’t have to let you in.” Shouto says plainly.

“You’re not his fuckin’ guard dog. Now let me in to see my damn husband.” Bakugou takes a step towards Shouto, who straightens up at the challenge.

“Stress is not good for the baby, Bakugou. If you stress Midoriya out, I will blast you out the window, even if it means I lose the security deposit.” Shouto threatens.

Bakugou’s reminded that Shouto is not his enemy. He’s simply trying to protect Midoriya, and that’s something Bakugou would want him to do. “Noted. Now let me in.” Bakugou’s eyes meet Shouto’s and for a moment he thinks that Shouto won’t let him in. And then what would he do? He can’t very well blast his way through Shouto, that would only upset Midoriya further. He can’t break this anymore. He has to fix it, so finally he relents. “Please. I need to talk to him.”

“He’s in the kitchen.” Seemingly satisfied, Shouto steps aside, but as Bakugou moves to walk past him, he’s given one final warning. “I mean it, Bakugou. No stress.” Bakugou doesn’t argue. He just nods slightly and makes his way further into Shouto’s apartment.

Midoriya’s been crying into his tea all morning. Not a single call or text from Bakugou and he’s happy that Bakugou respects him enough to give him space, but damned if a part of him doesn’t secretly want an apology or even just some sort of contact, something that makes him feel like Bakugou still cares.

Kirishima leans in, wrapping Midoriya in a quick hug before standing. “Kat’s here.”

Midoriya nods in acknowledgement, but he can’t bring himself to look at Bakugou. He knows he’s a mess. He hasn’t brushed his hair this morning, his eyes are puffy and red-rimmed from his on and off again bouts of crying, and he knows he must look exhausted with as little sleep as he’s gotten.

“I’ve missed you. I can do this, Izu, please just give me another chance.” Bakugou approaches Midoriya but stops just short of touching him. “Please come home.”

Midoriya’s still unsure what to say, still so hurt and angry, and conflicted. He glances up briefly and he can see that Bakugou is hurting too, and he doesn’t want to hurt Bakugou and the thought of doing so makes him start crying all over again. He can feel the tears hot on his cheeks and Bakugou closes the distance between them, wrapping familiar, muscular arms around him and even though he’s still hurt and angry and conflicted, these arms feel like home. And he wants to go home.

~END~

If you liked this story, please go drop a comment or kudos at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37071712

#bkdk #bnha #fanfic #mha

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gun-roswell · 1 year ago

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Tukk Tales - Welcome to the team, Checklist! (part 4 of the series)

Preface

Set in the world of Star Wars the Clone Wars and the Fanimation multiverse of things, Captain Tukk and company ready to serve!

There is always room for one more in the team!

Captain Tukk’s squad having not only adopted a former Seppie Droid into the mix, Roger.

But now, they are about to get another trooper joining their squad.

(I’ve only recently got acquainted with Checklist, intel from Mr High Ground Animations himself, so naturally I had to incorporate Trooper Checklist into the Tukk Tales fanfic series as well!)

Part of Tukk Tales fanfic series (the continued saga made in short fics for #TUKKTUESDAY

Notes:

Please check out the teaser trailer on YouTube: TUKK TALES: The Rescue - A Clone Wars Fan Film | Teaser Trailer

Man down!

‘Even delusional droids need some downtime to be able recuperate.‘

Roger certainly was not a happy camper (clanker) at all!

Having been stuck in the lab part of the med bay for the longest while now. Ever since… well, since their dizzy spells having happened, the poor droid having fainted. It was hardly normal for a droid to just pass out even if Roger was a special kind of a droid for sure. The revelations of Roger’s inner self simply pouring like a leaking faucet to their team. It seemed there was always something new about the droid. But, Roger was malfunctioning for the lack of a better term in Roger’s case. According to the technicians and the doctors, Roger was far from alright and certainly not in combat condition. Whatever it was causing this sudden instability still unknown.

Tukk and the team were once again at Roger’s side. Trying to cheer the poor droid who clearly felt sad and bewildered and perhaps a little hangry too, as Roger was eating human food now too. The technicians were certainly not giving them any kind of food simply keeping the poor droid in fluids. (Some kind of motor oils and whatnots?). Alas, Roger having gotten rather used to eating, fond of it too especially when sharing meals with the squad wasn’t happy at all about being refused from the one good thing they got going for them in the infirmary. As there really wasn’t a lot to do there. They had all experienced it, the troopers and it was the worst place ever to be stuck in!

The five of them were sitting or standing around Roger’s bed. What they could see was that the droid was pouting. The team having gotten tuned into Roger’s various moods, and they had plenty of those too! Then again, they could all relate. As none of them liked being bedridden. Being poked, probed and prodded just because of some… illness? Mysterious one at that as there was still no update on what if anything was wrong with Roger.

“So, Rog, any more of those… um, funky sensations you had before?” Tukk was threading lightly. After all, the medical personnel working on Roger had warned the team it could be something of a mental disorder Roger was suffering from as there did not seem to be anything mechanically wrong with the droid as far as they could tell. After all, Roger having stated they were a human a few times now. Then having odd sensations and all, even premonitions. Well, it surely sounded like something of a software failure for sure. But Tukk despite wanting Roger back in action with them had warned the technicians not to reboot the droid. That having been the ultimate solution if all else failed according to the techs working on Roger. And so far, all else had failed.

“You mean the dreams?” Roger asked not really liking where this was heading to. As even if the medical staff around Roger treated them like… well a droid to some extent, Tukk and the team had not done so. The squad only having seen Roger as a member of the team. A friend even and certainly never having taken lightly any of Roger’s claims.

“Yes, those things.” Tukk glanced at the others, none of them really having much to add in the efforts of cheering up the poor droid. Even if they were supposed to be there to do just that. Simply shaking their heads, as if being totally defeated in their efforts.

It really had been a quiet visit, none of them having too much to say. As the days had dragged on without any hints of getting to the bottom of things, to what was really wrong with Roger. The jokes having been told as had the tales of the days happenings. “No. No dreams. No nothings.” Roger was quiet for a spell. Recollecting what had happened while being in the medical area. But there was nothing there, as if the voices, the dreams, memories perhaps having suddenly stopped. There was nothing there to reach out to and so Roger had become to believe they had been wrong all along. Being or having been a human before just a dream, a fantasy Roger had concocted in the efforts of really wanting to be one. And now, it had all faded away. “No new sensations either. There is nothing there except… emptiness, darkness.”

Roger sounded so sad, so defeated. It was tugging at Tukk and the rest of the team’s heartstrings for sure and in the all wrong ways too. They felt heartbroken, the lot of them.

Tukk stared at Roger, not sure what to say. There were really no words to tell someone something encouraging, them clearly having lost their mojo. As this was how it looked like for sure.

“I am sorry, Rog.” Tukk finally said, rising from his seat and hovering over the droid before he leaned down and hugged them. A first for sure. A clone hugging a clanker. But hey, Roger was their teammate, droid or not!

Roger was surprised to say the least. But it was pleasant as well. Having someone hugging them. Making Roger feel… special… almost…well, human.

The rest of them followed Tukk’s example. The lot of them giving Roger their version of a hug.

Just then, the technician made themselves known. Having witnessed the rather odd scene then and there. Not that anyone could blame the squad for caring for one of their own. As Roger was that, one of their own. Part of the team.

“Um… sorry to interrupt but we need to run a few more tests on Roger here.” The staff used the given name of Roger’s having learnt to do so the hard way, something Tukk and Roy had made sure they would do after a few well chosen words.

Roger sighed and simply nodded to their team mates.

“Catch ya later Rog!” Roy told Roger on the behalf of the others as the team left Roger in the hands of the medical technician waving their goodbyes on their way out.

A new recruit?!

‘The more the merrier, right? And how bad can it really be? Breaking in someone new to the team?’

“Waddaya mean we’re getting a new team member?” Checkmate did not sound happy at all. Then again, neither were the rest of them. Happy to hear this. Having a new recruit, most likely some shiny joining in suddenly? Especially now as one of their teammates was down! “This comes from high up, from the top. Apparently, they have redeemed our squad to be one of the best ones for breaking in new troopers.” Tukk sounded clipped though himself having already had the one argument with Cody and Rex about this.

“Top? Since when does top brass decide who joins in our crew?” Gene sounded totally annoyed.

After all, they had a good thing going between the five of them. The squad having been together since the very beginning. Having pretty much trained together from the cadets they had once been, through their shinies stage to having become hard working troopers hey now where with Captain Tukk as their leader.

Then there was Roger. The clanker with a big heart. A soul perhaps? Wanting to be a human.

Roger had joined their team, having literally saved their shebs several times during the brief time Roger had been in the team. None of them wanting to change that. Roger quickly becoming much of an equal member as the rest of them were. Having won them all over with their actions. Because Roger was all show rather than to tell kind of a trooper. Well, Roger did tell too, a lot!Stories, opinions, lately even jokes! Something of a surprise for sure for their teammates!

But now, they were getting a new member? Would this trooper replace Roger? Could they replace Roger? Could anyone replace Roger. They did not even want to replace Roger!

“So what of Rog?” Roy finally voiced the concern on everyone’s mind at that very moment. “Will this new Trooper replace them?”

There was a long pause before anyone spoke. The dreaded question having been put out there for sure.

“Roger is in the infirmary, not gone.” Tukk tried to counter but the worry was within the Captain too. After all Roger had been… malfunctioning. So, if the brass wanted to… we’ll they could easily replace the droid, couldn’t they. It wasn’t as if Roger was really sanctioned gear… not that Roger was gear, but the brass might see the droids as such.

“We know boss. But if the top wants to get rid of Roger for whatever reason they might thing of, this could be it. Roger was a Seppie clanker after all… and well… need I say more?” Gecko was putting it out there, the fact of Roger’s past which they all knew quite well. So no reminder was really needed.

“Yeah. That.” Tukk sounded half defeated. But he was the one to be cheering the other’s spirits and so. “Look, let’s not jump into conclusions before we get all the facts, okay. And let’s give this new guy a chance before we decide anything. Can we agree on that at least?”

They all exchanged glances with the others, before turning back to their Captain. But Tukk wasn’t wrong either. They did not have all the facts as of now. They were only guessing as to the reasoning behind the new recruit joining their squad.

“We’ll do that Cap’n.” Roy responded for them all.

As it turned out, they weren’t getting a shiny after all rather a fully conditioned Clone Trooper.

The trooper, having been transferred from an other outfit to their team. Well guess first impressions and all plus the fact the the new trooper was a transfer should have rung a few warning bells. Alas, this new clone seemed, fine at first glance.

Neat looking, all trimmed and clean. But also, he was on time.

Alas, they should have all known better. The warning signs were all there. Neat, trimmed, to the point behaviour…

Yeah. Hindsight’s and all that!

Checklist, as the trooper was called turned out to be something of an acquired taste for sure!

First missions

‘We can agree to disagree?’

“Sir, may I remind you that according to mission protocols we cannot deviate from the given plan without a approved change from our direct Commander.” Checklist had been true to his name, clearly having a checklist for anything and everything. The trooper having commented basically on anything the team had been doing during said mission. And it was becoming pretty tiresome and growing old really, really fast!

Tukk rolled his eyes, thankfully his face being hidden under the bucket. But he could sense the others having the exact same sentiment. The reason for the transfer having become pretty much obvious too. Checklist’s former squad most likely having had enough of the constant checking of their actions. Assuming of course that was the reason. As everything apparently the team was doing now was somehow wrong in Checklist’s opinion. And boy did he have lots of them! Opinions.

“Look, Checklist… you’re new… and…” Tukk sighed heavily. “Now don’t get me wrong, as I do appreciate your insights…. But. And it’s a big but.” Tukk paused. Sensing the other’s frustration rivalling his own. “While you can and should voice your concerns every now and again, try to keep your observations to the minimum. Understood?” Tukk did not sound harsh even if his words just might have been. “We do things our way. Successfully so. Mostly anyway. And right now, you are wrong.”

A hefty silence fell overt the already cramped and somewhat awkward space they occupied. The team waiting to get moving, their goal so close they could taste it. And Tukk knew they would make it if they’d simply made the adjustment to their current plan right there on the spot.

Checklist too was quite. For a change. The trooper having been constantly babbling about the rules and regulations. Something which all of them were familiar with without a doubt. They all having gotten the same training! And this was considered an elite group after all. Having several wins under their belt. So, what the kark was wrong with Checklist? Why did he have to nitpick on each and every move the team had made up and until now. None of them having commented on Checklist’s observations so far as not wanting to get to blows with the newbie at get-go. Giving the benefit of the doubt and all that.

Alas. Enough was enough. And right now, they needed to get the mission going.

“Look, Checklist, this is nothing personal per se. But we’ve done this a long time. Together the five of us and we know what we’re doing.” Tukk really did not want to start a fight either or make it harder for the new recruit. But if Checklist wasn’t about to shut the kriff up and stop making annoying comments of how they should be doing things… we’ll, Tukk was about to let him have it.

“Yeah Checklist! If you don’t work with us, then we’ll simply have to assume you’re a Seppie spy and leave you to the clankers to deal with.” Gene told the newbie flatly with his best straight face on. Checkmate and Gecko snickering by his side.

Again Checklist did not respond rather stiffing up suddenly.

“You really think that?” He finally managed with a shaky voice. “That I would work for the enemy?”

Realizing his little faux pas Gene quickly corrected himself. “I was joking Checklist! It was said in jest…”

Checklist kept on staring at the others.

“It was made as a humorous remark. Because you being so stiff lipped and all.” Gecko tried, but Checklist had his stiff shock face in place.

“I…” Because Checklist wasn’t following this… humour at all.

Tukk glared at Gene, urging silently for the trooper to fixit ASAP.

“Look, Checklist… I’m… um sorry. I did not mean to upset you.” The situation having turned sour really really fast. “I was simply pulling your leg ya know. But, well, guess not all people have a sense of humour…” Getting a jibe from Tukk followed by a warning glare.

After all, they had no idea what kind of humour if any Checklist had.

Checklist seemed to asses the comment for a moment though, somewhat relenting his stance too.

“I do have a sense of humour, Sir. But I only make use of it when there is the proper time for it. And being on an urgent mission is certainly not it.”

“He’s a ton of fun ain’t he!” Gecko weren’t laughing though. None of them were. Only wanting this mission to be over sooner than later. As clearly, the tensions between the team and the newbie were on the rise.

They all stood there for a moment. In silence. Something of a tend.

“I… guess I spoke a bit hastily there too.” Checklist admitted as much finally. “You have your ways and I do mine.”

Yeah, there really was a wide rift between them for sure. The squad and Checklist.

“Well…. Now that we’re on the same page again, can we please move forward.” Tukk kind of understanding the sides of them all. But they were on a mission, pressed for time. And so other things would simply have to wait. Like sorting out the mechanics of the team. They were professional soldiers and not shinnies after all. “Now!”

Sure we can make it! Together!

‘Adjusting the status quo is never easy. Especially not on an undercover op!’

The mission was moving forward. Rather nicely, until it did not. The unimaginable had happened. Well, missions went awry. This was war after all and so many things able to go wrong , the odds easily to be counted.

“Kriffing Sithspit of a Hellspell!!!” Tukk totally let it rip, the profanities flying out like flies after a hot day on Tatooine.

“You can say that again, boss!” Checkmate was surprised of the plethora though, even if Tukk swore like a sailor sometimes, it was still rare to have as many swears in one sentence.

Checklist sighed heavily seeing their predicament having risen with the rest of them. But having been warned prior to this, he did not comment. Not even the “I told you do so” was forthcoming. He seemed to have learnt his lesson. Even if now would have been the time for good ideas for sure!

“Yeah, looks like our change of plans turned into a great big SNAFU!” Gecko was rubbing it in. Then again, it had been a joint decision after all to change their plans. Well part from Checklist of course.

“We need options people! Now!” Tukk wasn’t too pleased to hear any kind of snide grunts from his team at this point. His helmet gaze going form one trooper to the other, the message clear. They were in it together and only together would they get out of the mess. “So?!”

Checklist sighed heavily again, something of a trait for him for sure.

“Yes?” Tukk pressed him having heard it loud and clear despite their buckets. Sixth sense and all that jazz.

“Well … I’d hate to quote the regulations once again, but guess there is one thing we can do.”

They all turned to look at Checklist, only waiting expectantly for him to come up with something. A good plan perhaps?

“Regulation one-four-seven, subsection zero point four.”

Checklist stated it like it was something they should have known from get go. And they really should have known the regs. After all, they had all prided in it just moments ago.

Tukk was thoughtful for a moment, the only nodding in agreement having run the list and the numbers in his head.

“Yeah… yeah!” He continued. “Fellas, open an unsecure channel to our headquarters.”

Roy looked surprised but nodded and made the call as per ordered.

Meanwhile Tukk turned back to Checklist, the Captain singing in a different tune for sure as seeing Checklist had come through for them after all. “You keep quoting those regs for us, Checklist!!”

“Sir, yes Sir!” Checklist was positively beaming, inside of his bucket. But the sentiment was clear.

After all, the idea given by Checklist just had saved their asses, literally and figuratively! The mission having turned on the right track and having become a success after all!

“Funny how many C and G staring names we have! In the team now.” Gene being a part of it himself had noticed the very fact.

“And two Checks no less!” Gecko chuckled.

“We’ll have to call Checklist List and Checkmate simply Mate from now on! Ya know, for clarity!” Gecko suggested to the two “Checks”, them simply shaking their collective heads at the suggestion though.

“Yeah… no.” Checkmate told him flat on. “I have a name for a reason.”

“But…”

“No!”

“Fine!”

“Good.”

“Agreed!”

This time, Checklist laughed out loud. He did have a sense of humour after all!

“You… you can laugh!” Gene was surprised.

“I told you I had a sense of humour. And I think List is funny, but no, I would not answer to that name either.” Checklist told Gene then.

Gene chuckled, only glad Checklist had unstuck whatever stick had been caught up his shebs, the trooper clearly fitting better now that he had actually laughed! Gene however was still running his cogs inside of his brain, thinking about all the possibilities having the extra member in their team would mean for the future. The endless possibilities. Gene was full of ideas after all!

“Should we start a band? We could entertain the troops and all! Play in the Red Room on Coruscant… I mean, six, seven with Rog would be the perfect number for…”

“We’re not forming a band Gene!” Tukk interjected seeing as this conversation needed to stop right now. Clearly not being the first time Gene’s wild imagination had run rampant.

“Well, we have two Rs here too… so going all pirate anyone?” Gene was still on it and definitely on to something.

“No pirates, no bands, no nothings! We’re a squad of clone troopers and that should suffice for now! Listen to the Captain.” Roy ordered then. Not really seeing the humour in this at all.

Hoping only that Tukk wasn’t getting one of his migraines coming on from all the silly talk as Roy put it as, the teammates train of thought sometimes taken a side turn of the main rails and there usually was no end to the “great ideas” they seemed to be having. Apparently, Checklist having adapted rather quickly to the other three’s sense of humour as well. Something of a good and bad thing too. Being absorbed to the insanity of the rest of them.

“Fine fine, you’re the boss!” Gene admitted then, glaring coyly at the other three.

“Am not.” Roy was the second in command after Tukk. But Tukk was the Captain and…

“Sure you’re not.”

“Tukk’s the Captain.”

“And?”

“So?”

“Still not the boss.”

“Sure!”

“He could be.”

“Yeah! He sure got the shebs for it !”

The four of them, even Tukk giggled at that comment.

“Shut up!”

“Hey you know we’re kidding right, Roy?”

“Roy’s got no sense of humour, so no he doesn’t.”

“I told y’all to shut the kriff up!”

Tukk was simply shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered about the whys though. Why he even bothered. And clearly, Checklist was loosing it too, big time. The effect of their squad for sure!

“Hey, let’s go! We’re late to meet Roger and introduce Checklist to them!”

“Yeah! Come on List! You’ve gotta meet Rog!”

“The Droid? And I told you, I won’t answer to List.”

“But you did, List.”

*Glares at the others for a while*

“Rog is so much more than a droid though.”

“They are?”

“Yup! You’ll soon find out when we go visit them!”

The rowdy and laughing crowd finally made their way out the barracks and towards the med bay. Tukk following suit, still shaking his head. Thinking about his life choices for sure. Was it too late to pick up painting? Perhaps he should become a pirate after all?!

To be continued The whole series on ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/series/3522448)

#Tukk Tales #High Ground Animations #Captain Tukk #Fanfic #Fanimation #Star Wars the Clone Wars

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igenuinelywannagohome · 4 months ago

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toxic yuri

lore dump under the cut :P

SO.

Ceana is kinda main focus OC. Big deal. Trauma baby. IXION dies right after they get introduced to the dang plot. BUT. ALAS. ANYWAYS LORE-

Ceana: Previously an animatronic from an aquarium that copied Faz Co. tech, Ceana kinda got snatched after her aquarium exploded due to a gas leak. Someone found their remains, and Faz Co. took the opportunity real quick. But, because of the fact Ceana had faced such severe damage mixed with the lack of will to give over backup memory chips, their coding was severely damaged. This ensued issues like lack of speech, inability to count, and illiteracy. This didn’t render them stupid, though. Quickly, they adapted to their struggles and pieced together their past, managing to revert themself on their own. Through this struggle, they meet the squad, do some lore stuff which they really didn’t want to deal with, and got thrown up on by a kid. The vomit killed their fish. Oopsies. After shenanigans ensue, SPECIFICALLY AFTER and/or around Eclipse’s second death, IXION arrived. IXION, a major antagonist in THEIR story (not interfering with other lore problems) had given them love and respect which they desperately craved, sending them into a false sense of security. (AKA: toxic yuri begins.) It took a lot of talking. A LOT of talking. And eventually the way they found out they were being used and abused was on a Sunday night watching Finding Nemo with Earth while they painted each other’s nails. IXION, enraged by Ceana’s sudden rebellion, made a plan to kill them. The plan had been to input a detrimental virus into their coding, which was already fragile, and have it eat them alive to turn them into, as seen in the smaller picture next to their character: a murderous cannibal. They were given no mind, no thoughts, no feelings. The virus was to delete all memories and possible emotions and bias towards others. The only way to ‘revert them to normal’ or ‘end their suffering’ was to permanently dismantle them. This backfired, and IXION, whom had been the root of the virus (explained in their lore) was torn to shreds by Ceana the moment the virus rooted into their systems. As the virus lessened in strength, Ceana’s last memories of IXION is her torn off hand holding her cheek, claiming that ‘she loved them’ and they were a ‘monster’ for their actions. This…stuck with Ceana. The overload in emotion mixed with the dwindling virus managed to have it morph into something entirely different: a protection code. Now, when children, family, friends, or even strangers are presented with violence, Ceana loses it and makes sure to ‘detain the assaulter’. (This is tearing them apart limb from limb and making sure their body is an unrecognizable pile of mush). This has caused various problems, but since Faz Co. had assumed their code was done for, they never became a certified animatronic. In the eyes of law, they are just an automaton gone rogue. The biggest downside to this ‘protection code’ though, is that Ceana fails to remember the events of what happen when it takes over. So seeing IXION call them a monster as they regain consciousness and the faces of fear people display once watching them detain a person had always haunted them.

Fun facts:

Ceana has a detachable fish tank for their middle abdomen

Inside of said fish tank they used to have two fish named Strawberry and Shortcake.

Shortcake survived the explosion, Strawberry did not.

An odd obsession with sharks.

Ceana was originally supposed to be a ‘female designed animatronic’, but went through the fboy boy treatment and decided that no thanks!!! (they/them)

Ceana is insecure about their odd paint job. They find it odd and ugly.

Ceana can play the ukulele.

Their hands can project ocean scenery onto walls.

Tall. About 10’4.

They have vocal stims. Meowing, beeping, and specific song notes that sound nice to the tongue.

They’e made entirely from glass, apart from their endoskeleton.

IXION ripped their eye out when they were infected with the virus.

No one knows they killed IXION (until they collapse from the guilt)

Ceana is good at glass sculpting, being able to quite literally meld themself back together.

I’m gonna write IXION’s part later my brain no like word

#yippee #lore #oc #dca oc #dca #lunar and earth show #sun and moon show #laes oc #tsams oc #art?#writing #art #words are stuoid #im so eepy #happy birthday mom #silly mother vibez

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zorbasmedia · 11 months ago

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Bet on It: Building Your Sportsbook from the Ground Up

Hey, have you seen how sports betting is totally taking off? So, maybe now is the time to jump in and be the go-to bookie? Well, the pot is getting bigger every day. If you’re nodding along thinking, “Yeah, this sounds like my jam,” then you’re probably wondering how to get in on the action, right? We’re dropping a guide with all the steps to kick off your own sportsbook.

The tech side of your sports betting business

So you’ve decided to jump into the sportsbook pool — cool. When it comes to the gear you need, you’ve got two main plays:

DIY your own betting platform

Grab a ready-to-go package from the pros

Going DIY with your sportsbook tech

If you’re thinking of building your sportsbook platform from the ground up, you need to be loaded with iGaming smarts and totally get the tech side of things. Taking this route means you’re in charge of all the details — from coding to customer service. It’s a big ask. You’ll need a squad of devs, managers, risk analysts, etc.

Rigging up your own system is a giant pile of cash and effort, and it’s not guaranteed to pay off. Plus, we’re talking a year, maybe more, just to get it market-ready.

Snagging a turnkey solution

If you’re iGaming savvy, tailoring your own setup could be a smart move to level up. But if you’re just breaking into the scene, why not score a reputable, ready-made sports betting package? It’s quick and way cheaper.

Why take the turnkey route? Here’s the deal:

It’s kinder to your wallet. Skip the drama of building and running a full team, and dodge those long chats (and costs) with payment and data vendors.

Lightning-fast launch. You can roll out in weeks. Crafting your own core software? A year. Minimum. And that’s without the extra setup stuff.

Solid and tested. When you pick a pre-built product, you’re not just getting code; you’re scoring a dedicated team, a legacy of success, and some serious technical chops.

Now, before you dive in and become a bookie, picking the right software is key. How do you know who’s the real deal?

Check out how customizable it is. You want more than a cookie-cutter setup; you need tech that can groove with your vibe.

Size up the support on offer. Things like player support, design peeps, risk managers, tech wizards — they’ll make or break your rep. It’s sweet if your supplier can cover this.

Balance the cost against what you’re getting. Saving dough is great, but don’t just chase the cheapest options — it might cost you more in the long run.

Data providers

You can’t really kick-start this game without one. Picking a foolproof supplier is huge because they’ll help you grab a piece of the market and keep risks at bay. So, here’s the scoop if you’re looking to become a bookie but don’t have much XP — choosing a sketchy data provider can bite you back with dodgy odds or slow updates, messing with your bank and your rep.

How to find a top-notch sports data provider:

Accuracy is king. Get this wrong, and you’re not just losing cash on double-checking data; you’re also playing with your customers’ trust if bad info leaks onto your site.

The data delivery. There’s a bunch of ways to get your hands on data, and it’s going to fit snug with your setup. Make sure you get the instructions manual — crystal-clear documentation means easier and cheaper setup.

Managing the risky business. A risk management tool is key for spotting and handling whatever comes your way. Without it, you’re flying solo on making choices backed by solid facts.

Be the one who stands out. You could cook up your own stats and info, but that’s going to stack the costs — more dough, more dev time, and more hands needed. That’s why snagging a provider that dishes out exclusive data makes a ton of sense.

Starting from the ground up means it’s on you to plug into a data provider — and that usually costs extra. Contracts can be a maze, even for the savvy operators, and hidden fees are a real pain. Even after you sign on the dotted line, don’t expect to start using that data on day one.

Web design

You’ve got a mix in the crowd; some folks are there for the exclusive events or crypto bets, others are hunting for those sweet bonus deals. Design isn’t everything, but if your site looks like it’s stuck in the ’90s, it’s a one-way ticket for players to bounce to the competition.

Alright, so what’s the game plan for a killer betting site design? It has to be no sweat to use. If your visitors have to play hide-and-seek with your “sign up” or “promo” buttons, they’re out. And don’t forget sorting or filters — big plus for the browsing game.

Next up, make sure your design feels like it belongs in the betting world. Roll out the red carpet with colors, pictures, and a font that says, “This is where the betting magic happens” (but don’t take it too literally — be more creative).

Then, align it with what you’re hustling — grabbing attention and nudging players to sign up, bet, or catch the latest events. Make sure calls-to-action are practically winking at your visitors.

And don’t forget about the mobile version. If it isn’t smooth like butter, you’re basically giving the cold shoulder to a hefty chunk of your audience.

Legal stuff and payment integrations

Brace yourself, because in this niche, the legal stuff is like a maze on steroids. Picking where to plant your flag and which license to nab is a big deal — it’s all about where you want your biz to shine and who you’re aiming to bring in.

Going solo for a license? You’re gonna need:

A squad of legal eagles who know their way around iGaming laws.

Patience, loads of it.

Now, let’s gab about the money movement. Chatting up payment providers can feel like running a marathon. You can’t just hook up a couple of payment methods and call it a day. Your players, they crave choices — cards, digital wallets, crypto, etc. For your sportsbook to really vibe with your users, you’ve got to think hard about what payment systems they groove to. It’s all about the markets you want to enter.

Building a legal dream team and wading through paper can bog you down, big time. It gobbles up what you can’t afford to lose — time to hit the market and test out those genius strategies. Sometimes, it’s way smarter to snag a white label sportsbook setup — a package deal with all the licenses you need and a bunch of payment methods ready to roll. Dump the legal headaches on your provider and get a head start.

Marketing

So, you’ve got your sportsbook all jazzed up and looking fly. Now, you have to make sure people actually want to hang out there. It’s showtime for your marketing game. We’re talking about getting the word out — who you are and what you’re all about:

Craft a statement that sums up what you’re bringing to the table.

Check out the competition and see where you stand.

Whip up something that makes you the go-to spot that no one else can touch.

Now, if you’re going to keep things running smooth inside the biz, you’ll need pros. A killer marketing crew is a must — they’re the wizards behind the curtain handling all the hype, setting up killer tournaments, and figuring out what freebies to throw the crowd.

Now, let’s talk perks because who doesn’t love a good bonus? They can totally tip the scales when players are deciding where to throw down their bets. Spice up your offers with themed tournaments, and personalized rewards. Give them that VIP feel on their betting journey.

Though, where there’s honey, there are bees — and in the betting world, that means bonus hunters and scammers. So, while you’re doling out bonuses and getting players hyped, make sure you’ve got a top-notch anti-fraud team. Go with a software provider that’s got their guard up.

Okay, you’ve got a sleek website and a tempting bonus menu, which is solid. But to really get your name out there, think announcements, interviews, press releases — all that jazz, especially in iGaming forums and on news feeds where everyone’s already hanging out.

Don’t just stop at SEO and ad banners. Contextual ads and affiliate marketing — these are your bread and butter. In the iGaming business, it’s all about being seen. And with search engines putting the squeeze on, having a network of affiliates is like having gold.

Final thoughts

Jumping into the sports betting world is no walk in the park — it’s a big deal that needs you to really do your homework. It’s not just about having a slick website or throwing around cool bonuses that makes your sportsbook the place to be. What really matters is the crew backing you up — their smarts, their know-how.

Just ask any seasoned owner, and they’ll tell you straight: hooking up with a full-service squad that knows the ins and outs of running an iGaming brand is the smart move when you’re kicking off your sportsbook.

Interesting headings:

Affiliate marketing case studies

Bonuses

Reviews

#betting #vertical

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