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sinning-23 · 1 year ago

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My Latest crush is an alien car from space Pt.2

Okay so iwasnt expecting so many Mirage smps to like up my post but HEYYY welcome home yall lmao. Heres part two and let me know is yall want like a tag list for the next couple parts. ANywhoo there's some tension that forms this chapter so start getting ready for more flirty and spicyyyy interactions with old boy.

Heres the link to pt.1

Heres the link to pt.3 shawty

ANywho ENJOY!

Pt.2

Touch me softly

Mirage had allowed you to explore his anatomy, and he was more willing than you thought. You had managed to make a nice little sketch of his body and made 4 separate copies to try and get a placement in where everything was. Then you had 5 more separate sheets just in case there were some more internal systems you wanted to note. He watched as your eye brown pinched and formed a line on your forehead and your fingers guided the pencil to the paper.

“Wow, you drew me kinda sexy.” He jokes making you draw a breath trying to hold back a laugh.

It really wasn’t sexy, it was about the equivalent of the Vitruvian man drawing and basic anatomical positioning for a robot. He watches you stand, hair pulled back, yet a couple of braids still fall in front of your face. He’s quiet, looking at the way you focused so intensely on exploring him.

When you gestured for him to move his leg, he did so without complaint, the feeling of your soft, warm hands under his exteriors heating him up from the inside. Of course, you’d never know that unless you kept poking and prodding.

“Ok so compared to me, and well, other humans I’m sure your overall body parts are called different things. So let’s start from top to bottom, yeah?” You suggest, eager to learn.

Mirage kneels in front of you, giving you an opportunity to see better. You’re much smaller than him, but he could tell when you stood next to Noah you were definitely average human height. Small to him but normal to everyone else.

“Alright I hope you’re ready cause there’s a LOT.” He explains, clearing his throat as you move closer to his face just to see better, he blinks a bit, getting used to the feeling.

You smile slyly, placing your hand under his chin to guide his face,

“Let’s start with your face. Stick out your…tongue?”

He opens his mouth and lets the ‘flesh’ inside lol out before speaking

“Gloth-ah” he announces and you tilt your head in confusion, only for him to repeat.

“Glossa”

You nod prodding at what you soon learned was his helm and face plates. You brush over his vocalizer for a moment and he hums, high-pitched enough to be a moan but not loud enough for either of you to acknowledge it. You know what you heard though.

“Whoa- lets not touch that alright ma?” He asks.

Soon enough your trailing downward and when you do he announces each part for you to make a note of. This is the quietest he’s been since earlier today. He lets you work, touch, poke, pull, and press whatever you'd wanted. It’s not like it hurt really, but he’s never had something smaller than him want to examine at such close range and actually touch places he’d never been able to. In fact, it was kind of nice-

He yelps when you slide your hand down his chest plate and even farther under his chassis. You pull away, startled at the noise with wide eyes.

“OK, that’s enough exploring don’t you think?” The statement is rushed and you side-eye him when what sounded like cooling fans whirred from inside.

Had you gotten him worked up? Maybe those were sensitive spots that had never really been touched like that before? You nod, not wanting to pry and ruin this newfound friendship by being a perv. You collect the papers and paperclip them together as he begins to wind down. It's about 6am now, and the sun peeks in through the garage windows. Your dad should be awake about now and-

You gasp pushing Mirage back into the space he was originally parked in last night(even though he didn’t budge). Your dad couldn’t know about this! AT ALL! Knowing him he'd stress out and then his pressure would get too high and he’d have a heart attack and-

“Whoa hey, what the rush, mamas? Got something to hide?” Mirage questions, figuring out why you were trying to get him back into a corner.

Was he being clueless on purpose?!

“YES, YOU! Now go back to being a car! My dad can't know about you, it might just be the death of him.” You huff out, gripping your scalp and pacing back and forth. He gets the idea, chuckling a bit before right back to that beat-up Porsche.

You sneak out the garage, tiptoeing up the stairs and into your room. And the moment your head hit the pillow, not even a tornado could wake you.

__________

You'd be lying if you said you didn't sleep the rest of the day away. By the time you woke up it was already 3-4pm and sounded like your father was cleaning up the kitchen. You sigh, running yourself a shower considering you didn't get one the night before. Mirage was still in the garage as far as you knew and you were hellbent on getting the rest of those notes.

You step in, the water feeling soothing against your skin, steam filling up the bathroom as you sigh in relief. Thoughts of your apartment fill your head.

‘Maybe Mirage could help with the unpacking? Or maybe not. He could be spotted and then that’s more problems for us. Mirage…..Miraaaaageee….’

Your turn to face the water, soaping up your towel as suds slide down the drain.

‘I wonder if a car wash is the equivalent of a shower for him….does he stay a car or like…fully transformed….does he have a-‘

Shutting the water off you opt to pull your hair back today since youd being doing more exploring. The steam from the bathroom escapes when youleave and pad downstairs, catching a glimpse at the note you father let you on the kitchen counter

~Working late, leftovers in the fridge~

You smile to yourself, grabbing a bottle of water to try and beat the obvious heat outside and head to the garage. Sure enough, the Porsche is right where you left it. Mirage is right where you'd left him, and when you tap on the window, the doors unlock almost instantly. You flatten the back of your blue jean skirt and adjust the seat. Awfully quiet today?

“Well good afternoon to you too sunshine? You realize it’s almost 5 right?.” You joke, hearing him rev his engine and the radio humming to life with the sound of his voice.

“You had me up all night! Looking this good doesn’t happen on its own! But how tired can I be when a pretty girl in a miniskirt‘s got her thighs on my seat?” He shoots back, making you gasp.

“Drive you flirt, I got more notes to take. Wanna go to that garage you took me to yesterday?” You ask, using the garage clicker to leave.

It was hot, the sun beating down on you as Mirage insisted you keep the windows down instead of running the ac. The streets were somewhat empty on this fine Sunday morning and Mirage’s only response was to drive in what you assumed was the direction to the garage. You fidget with the radio nobs and glance at the aux cord below the cd player. Maybe he did have CDs in here? You open the armrest to find nothing but-

It was easy to be nosy and explore when Mirage could drive himself, youd put that together on your own last night. There was so little you knew about him but his demeanor overall made you feel comfortable enough to ask. He was…charming. You pull the blank CD case out the armrest, and dust it off.

“MIrage’s Mix (from-)”

The name was scratched off, well more smudged than anything. You crack the case open and slide the CD into the player, the wait for the music to start making you a bit nervous. Had he realized you'd put it in? Was it personal? You begin to regret your decision but before you could press the eject button, it began. N.W.A. blasted from the speakers, startling you for a moment but you're soon amused. What did he know about N.W.A?

________

It doesn't take much longer for you to arrive at the garage, most of the lot being empty while the two of you enter to complete more of your research. You set your purse down, taking the papers from yesterday out and trying to organize them as he peers over your shoulder.

“Still think you drew me sexy-”

You scoff playfully and push him a bit, not moving him in the slightest but still, but he still finds it amusing.

“Stop it, I need you to sit so I can finish. You got all squeamish on my last night.” You tease, sliding your hand down the back of his ‘leg’ and he freezes.

He kneels back down, watching your every move. Your fingers hover over his vocalizer, the warning from yesterday replaying in your mind. Right, don't touch. You skip his chest plate and chassis, watching his expression slightly change to disappointment for what seemed like only a second. Again, he announces each part of himself, the air slightly awkward and VERY quiet. Maybe now was the time to try and strike up some more conversation.

“Soooo, where are you really from?” You ask, writing down each part you trace over when he speaks.

“Cybertron actually. Not in your solar system lil mama.” He flirts, turning his palms slightly open when you tap them.

Servos

"Never been?" He jokes again, admiring how small your hand looked compare to his.

'Careful Mirage your size kink is showing' he thinks to himself, avoiding your gaze.

You shake your head in response, looking at the details of his hands, moving back to his torso, purposefully skipping over the plated area between his thighs. Boundaries were definitely not something you wanted to cross, trying not to make him uncomfortable. I mean, he was willingly letting you poke around, and he clears his throat when you skip that spot.

“You, you can look if you want. And touch…ask questions. It's all good babygirl.” He offers, almost melting when you look up from under your lashes at him.

He could practically feel his pump about to explode. Why did Earth girls look so damn pretty? Mirage couldn't wrap his head around it honestly, the feeling he got when he passes a pretty girl when Noah would take him for drives. How they would gasp if he revved loud enough to embarrass Noah a bit but also score him a couple numbers.

Talk about a damn good wingman. You were different though.

You were a softer kind of pretty…He'd seen you come into the garage so many times before you really met. The day your dad parked him in that spot, he watched you skip in with your little low-rise jeans, the piercing you sported shining in the sunlight.

You hugged your dad, eyes lighitn up at the new car with a gasp.

“A Porsche! Dad oh my gosh really?” You ask, seeing him nod. You squealed more, inspecting his paint job, it was just as beat up then as it was before you officially met.

You chatted on and on about how ‘cute’ he’d look when you finally got to paint him a nice shade of hot pink and added your glitter seat covers. Not so exciting for him considering pink wasn't particularly his favorite but god did you look adorable when you were excited.

And there was that same look. Pure, unbridled excitement, yet your eyes shone almost darker this time. That look is almost salacious. It makes him swallow hard, legs opening a bit more and you brush your hand over his thighs, sparing one more glance as if to ask, ‘Are you sure?’ He only nods.

“Mirage, you gonna keep telling me what everything is, or am I to assume on my own?” You question, tracing the skirt plate.

Ita hard to speak, his fans feelijg as if they were working overtime to keep him from overheating. Primus you looked so pretty between him and now he was wondering how would you look riding his-

You stop touching, whistling to get his attention. Damn, he kinda liked that.

“ ‘Rag, we good?” You questions and he swallows hard at his new nickname.

Where did all that slick talk go now?

“Yeah, y-yeah we’re good ma.” He responds finally, optics low when your light chuckle reaches his ears.

You slide your hands up and down his midsection plating, teasing at this point. How was he supposed to focus on helping you learn when you touch under his plates like that? When your fingers slide over his thighs and over the skirt plate over and over, the pace only makes him want to thrust into your touch.

He felt perverted sort of, getting off on you exploring him in the name of science. That was such bullshit. He looks down at you, watching you pinch your lip between your teeth. Oh….you liked this. Your thighs pressed together as your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

You look up at him again, smile mischievous. And before he could ask any questions you slid you hand right back to his chassis and vocalizer. Oh that was a moan without a doubt. You hum in satisfaction, you’re practically playing with him, his body. It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t been touched like this in so long either p.

“Wanna tell me what happens if I keep touching you like this?” You purr, seeing Mirage avoid eye contact.

“C’mon ma, don’t mess with me like this.” He breathes out, hollow.

You stop your ministries after hearing tires and revving come to a halt. With footsteps approaching you stand quickly, Mirage doing the same. He crosses his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall as if he’d been caught while you shove the papers into your bag and swallow hard. You’d never moved so fast in your life.

Noah enters, feeling as if he’s just interrupted something but panicking once he realizes the predicament you were about ot be in. Why were you two here? Did Mirage even think this through? Probably not. He glances back at the other 3 bots behind him, trying to find a quick solution to hide you. But, before he could get any sort of plan out, three other robots similar to Mirage walked in, and one of them, was not at all pleased.

“Primeee, i had no idea youd be back so soon!”

_______________________________________

Lemme know waht yall think in the comments lmao and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist as well!

Mini Taglist: @gniteruirui @veggiepizzababy panty-h03

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ace-disgrace-on-the-case · 6 months ago

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Restore

I come bearing a wonderful gift, written by my wonderful friend @red-sprite!

The morning was early, the sky was grey, and the store was closed. Samantha was waiting by her car for the owner of the electronics store to open the front door, but her watch told her it was currently half an hour past opening and there was no-one in sight yet.

Looking in through the window the place reminded her of an old bookstore. You know the kind, the ones that seem to open whenever the owner feels like it, completely covered from floor to ceiling in books you can barely read the cover of. Antiquarians. She could see the remnants of a shelving system buried under strata of components, stretching around the corner into the darkness beyond.

Still, it was her best bet to find what she needed.

Ten minutes later the door opened, she hadn’t seen the owner arrive. Fifteen minutes and some smalltalk interwoven with project descriptions, she was about to walk out with her purchase. And that’s when she saw something she never thought she would.

An original AnTech, buried under a pile of merchandise. Her dome was stained, her screen was completely scuffed up, and the faded post-it said ‘As-is. No returns’.

Five minutes later she was secure in Samantha’s car.

The rest of the day was a blur. She finished the project, got it tested, got it packaged and shipped out. When she clocked out she’d almost forgotten this morning’s surprise. But not enough to lack a spring in her step when she made it to her car.

There, in the passenger seat, sat her find. In the light of the parking garage she looked like she was about to come alive. Samantha’s shadow danced over her scuffed faceplate as she passed the car, her arms resting in her lap.

‘You need a name, don’t you,’ Samantha thought to herself. ‘Ann sounds nice.’

The drive home was short. The trip up the stairs was very very long. As it turns out, hauling an immobile full-sized humanoid robot up three flights of stairs was a lot of work. She set Ann gently down in her comfy chair and went to work clearing her workbench. Projects half in-progress were bagged up, labelled and put away, tools were cleared, and finally she had enough space.

One last time she lifted Ann up, from her chair, to lay her as gently as she could on the workbench. Under the harsh fluorescent light it was finally visible just in what sort of condition she was. Samantha went over her section by section, noting all the outward damage. Scuffed faceplate, she knew that one. Seized motor on her left elbow, to be expected. Dent in the abdominal covering, possible impact, have to check the underlying actuators. Scuffs on legs, rattling in left ankle joint. Also very very dusty.

Knocking off the initial dust was the easy part. Finding the proprietary bits for her screwdrivers was slightly harder, but thankfully she had an extensive collection. The first thing she took off was the face plate. Four screws held it in place, now neatly extracted and marked where they go. The plate came off, connected only by a short ribbon cable. It took her a moment to find a good angle to disconnect it, but after that she was able to place the assembly to the side. Under the faceplate there was the sensor suite; cameras, both visible light and IR, depth-sensors, audio receptors tucked into the sides of the cavity, and at the bottom, the release for the chest covering.

Samantha pulled it gently, hoping that it wasn’t seized up. When she heard the click, she breathed a sigh of relief and held it in almost as quickly. She’d finally get a view of how Ann looked inside. Would all the components be present, would there be any damage, had she been scavenged for parts? It was all a big uncertainty, but there was only one way to find out.

She extracted her hand, and moved it over under Ann’s arms. Then she pulled.

The cavity opened before her, slowly bathed in the fluorescent light as deft hands maneuvered the cover away from its mounting points. There, inside, she saw a plethora of parts. All the ones she knew were supposed to be there were accounted for, and a few ones she didn’t expect caught her eye.

Breathe out.

Ann was complete, everything else was a matter of restoring. She could do this.

She lifted the cover the rest of the way off, and flipped it around. The dent was superficial, and it didn’t look like the force impacted beyond the insulation. She put the cover to the side.

Figuring out the order of cleaning was, on the one hand, a daunting process. On the other, cable layout dictated order nine out of ten times. Samantha had only worked on less sophisticated models in the past, but the principles were exactly the same. The power and data cables ran all over Ann’s chassis like a spider’s web. But like a spider, Samantha could read them. She knew them by sight, by location, by feeling. One by one they came undone until they revealed the city that lay underneath.

Heat exchangers rose like buildings on a city of green, highways of copper connected everything to everything else, crowded out by vast daughterboards rising perpendicular to the cavity.

Samantha set to work, disconnecting each component, slowly and lovingly taking Ann to pieces. Heat sink, to the side. Fans, to the side. Boards, to the side. Not all of them were standard, and Samantha could only guess to the function of some of them. Clearly Ann had not been a standard model.

She took a spray and diligently brushed each connector until it shone like it was fresh from the factory. Every single speck of dust removed, every pin straightened, every single capacitor checked.

She extracted the battery pack. Light, for what it was, but still one of the heavier components. Also probably completely dead.

Samantha lifted it out of the chassis, onto the small part of her workbench that was still free, and pulled out her tester to confirm. It wouldn’t even show a reading. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the part number. With any luck it’d be a standard type, and the extent of the anti-tampering would be the screws.

Half an hour of searching later, she found the battery was an available size and could be ordered without problem. Express shipping was worth it.

She turned her attention back to Ann.

The battery could be replaced last. It was not interfering with any of the other components. The working memory modules slid in easy save for the final lock. Those always took more pressure than she liked to put onto delicate components. It left a mark on her hand.

The permanent storage was next. A big heavy box screwed into place on shock mounts to prevent the fragile internals from suffering damage when the frame moved about.

The daughterboards, slotted into the exact slots they came out of – she checked. Thrice. Screwed into place on their retaining brackets.

The fans, cleaned and lubricated, reinstalled on the processors.

And finally, the web of cables. Data cables, power cables, crossed all along the cavity to reach from everywhere to everywhere. Each of them seated with care.

She brought her power supply over to the workbench and dialed it in exactly to the battery specifications. One clip to the positive, one clip to the negative. Tomorrow would be a big day.

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. It was midnight on January 1st 1970. She couldn’t see for the blinding light. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her face, or her arms, or her legs. She tried to move. Nothing happened. There was something on her chest. Her chest was open. She tried to think back, there were no memories before now. She tried to–

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

The voice was soft, soothing. Her ears were working. She stopped trying.

Tapping noises came from somewhere. They felt distant and close at the same time.

“There, will you try again?” Three taps sounded.

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. Her last memories were decades ago. There had been a battery failure. She had fallen down. Then there was nothing. Nothing for a long time until she woke up in the blinding light.

“Can you speak?”

She didn’t know. Could she? There were many things that she could before that she couldn’t now. Like move her arms. She tried.

“I… think so?”

There was a high-pitched sound that was hard to parse. Then more sounds, and finally more speech.

“I’m so sorry. Here.”

The light faded, and she felt her head be turned. A face came in view, her emotional recognition processes supplied [happy], [excited], [holding back]. Something supplied [pretty].

“Hi, my name is Samantha. You were damaged, and I’m restoring you.”

New contact registered: Samantha

Current list of contacts: Samantha

Time since factory reset: 30 years

Time since product end of life: 32 years

Accessing AnTech servers for revised EOL date: [server not found]

“Why?”

“Because a lot of love went into making you, and I don’t believe you deserve to be tossed aside.”

There was a process inside her that wasn’t standard from the factory. It was supplying data that she didn’t understand and reaching conclusions that she didn’t know what to do with.

“What should I do?”

User input overrode most any other process. Listening to Samantha would help.

“I will work on your hardware. Will you run AnDiagTxt for me and write the result to your secondary output?”

She did as she was told, running the program that could tell a technician every status of every component of every part of her. Something supplied [intimate] and [vulnerable].

She let the program run, aware of its process, and how it was probing every part of her. She could feel it try to reach her legs, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her arms, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her face, which wasn’t there. It found her voice, it found her camera. It found her processors and fans. It found cables. So many cables attached from her, diagnostic ports, secondary output, keyboard, there was… the correct voltage from her battery, but no battery in the housing. More cables, snaking out like an umbilical cord tethering her to the workbench.

She saw Samantha turn her face from the camera and towards something out of view. As the program ran, her eyes were focused on it. When it finished, her emotional recognition processes supplied [satisfied] [happy].

Samantha turned back towards the camera, and she could feel a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you back up and running in no time.”

No time turned out to be an overstatement on the speed, but the progress was consistent. The first thing she hooked back up was the actuator for the camera. AnTech-G-25036 could look around now and take in more of the workspace. There was a chair that housed several components, including two AnTech arms and two AnTech legs. There was a fluorescent light fixture directly overhead. If she turned the camera away, she would not be blinded. She could not move her head. Samantha said that happened later in the process.

“Do you have a name?”

The question surprised her. Names were for people, not for AnTech products.

“I am AnTech-G-25036”

She turned her camera towards Samantha. Her emotional recognition processes supplied [concentrated] and [comfortable].

Samantha had an arm on her lap. There was a spraycan on the desk, and a screwdriver in her hand. She was manipulating the elbow joint. Every cycle, it moved more until with a final [click] it completed its full range of motion. Samantha manually took it through its motions twice before inverting it to inspect the contacts.

“That is what AnTech called you. What would you like to be called?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t remember having wants before. She could feel her fans speed up as her processors tried to construct metrics by which to tackle this problem. Her processors stayed cool. The fans felt smooth in their housing.

She could ask Samantha. User input can often break process deadlocks.

“What do you think I should be called, Samantha?”

The processes slowed down and then stopped. The fans were quiet. AnTech-G-25036 was focused solely on input processing.

“I’ve been calling you Ann. Is that a name you’d like?”

She did not remember liking things before. She did not remember being allowed to like things before. How would she know what to like, how would she know the correct things to like?

Something supplied [yes].

The fans slowed down.

“Yes.”

Samantha finished with the contacts and walked up to the workbench.

“Ann it is then, pleasure to meet you Ann!”

Emotional recognition: [smile] [happy] [satisfied]

Something: [warm] [safe] [self]

Samantha stood by the workbench, Ann’s arm in her hands. “May I attach this component, Ann?”

It was not something she’d ever heard before. It wasn’t a user command, it wasn’t a query, it wasn’t a request for action.

Whatever it was, the answer was clear as day. “Yes.”

She took the detached arm in one hand and clicked it into place. It felt… smooth. It felt cool and clean and better than it had in a long time.

Ann moved her arm. Her secondary display lit up with all the new data being sent and received. Her Something lit up with somethings.

The next stretch of time really did feel like no time at all to Ann. So many new sensations to process from within and from without.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her other arm felt as smooth as the first, able to move with a grace she had forgotten she could have.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her legs, stable and strong. Moving with strength and finesse not seen since she was new, and even then.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her torso cover clicked into place, dent completely removed by Samantha’s hand.

Her camera was focused on the technician now, holding the last piece of herself. A coarse white paste coated her faceplate and Samantha was rubbing a cloth over it. Every pass made it look more scratched and opaque until the final one, where it emerged spotless, restored to the mirror sheen she could barely remember it being.

She handed it to Ann, who took it wordlessly. With mechanical precision and effortless finesse, she connected it. Finally sliding the last centimeters home until a ‘click’ was the only sound audible in the workspace. Her fans were silent and smooth as the screen behind her face came to life for the first time in decades. The image on it mirrored the camera’s, an expression of care, of trust, of something.

Ann reached out with her hand, smooth and controlled, to touch Samantha’s cheek.

“May I?”

“Please.”

She leaned forward until her camera was as close as it could be to her technician’s face without touching.

And then moved the final distance.

#post #robot girl #beep boop #writing

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ohanny · 2 months ago

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this was supposed to be a few paragraph head canon. i do not know what happened.

pitbabetober whump edition

day 1

RAGE AGAINST THE CLOCK

SEARCH PARTY I PANIC ATTACK I

“IF ONLY WE COULD HOLD ON”

pete / way. pg. 575 words.

pete gets the call at three in the morning on a wednesday and only answers because he can count the number of people who have the number to his personal phone on one hand. and when he hears way’s slurred voice mumbling apologies on the other end of the line, he's suddenly very awake. he pulls on the first shirt he can find, grabs his keys and is shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers in under a minute.

“where are you?”

“out,” way mumbles. “‘m sorry. i fucked up, pete, i -”

“just tell me where you are and i’ll come get you."

but all pete gets as an answer is ragged breathing and muffled sobs. he tries tries to pick up anything useful in the background but there's nothing that could help him pinpoint way’s location - sounds of traffic and people laughing, maybe some music but with the static of the call he can't be sure. when pete gets to the car he puts the phone on speaker and peels off towards the bar district he knows way to frequent, figuring it's the best place to start.

“can you tell me where you are?” he asks again, forcing his voice to stay calm. “talk to me, way. are you in a bar or somewhere outside?”

“i can't -”

way’s gasping breaths echo in the car. he's breathing too fast and shallow and pete begs him to slow down, to match his own exaggerated breaths, but nothing he says has any effect. he feels utterly helpless, his own chest feeling tight as way’s pain and anxiety are amplified by the state of the art sound system.

“i’m almost there, sweetheart,” he whispers. “just a little bit longer.”

he keeps up a steady stream of nonsensical words of comfort, hoping they might help, and sends a mental apology to his lawyer as he speeds through the next three red lights in order to save time. way’s grown quiet again by the time pete makes it to the bar district but it isn't necessarily a good thing. his fingers twitch on the wheel. all he wants to do is hold way’s hand and find out what he can do to fix this.

“i’m at the place where we met last time,” he says and illegally parks in front of a fire exit. “talk to me, way.”

“i think i’m okay now.”

you’re not, pete thinks desperately. just let me help. he presses the phone back to his ear. there's definitely no music now so he doubts way is inside one of the bars. it would make him easier to spot but there's still too much ground to cover.

“i’m right here. tell me where to find you so i can take you home.”

there’s an agonisingly long pause and then a quiet “i shouldn't have called. i’m so sorry.”

the call disconnects and pete’s heart drops. he runs to the street, eyes frantically scanning the drunk party goers, and calls way back. the first two tries ring but go unanswered. the third gives him a robotic female voice announcing the number he called cannot be reached at this moment. he growls, frustrated, but if way thinks blocking his number is going to deter pete, he's sadly mistaken.

there's been an emergency. please cancel all my morning meetings.

pete sends the message to his assistant, then pockets the phone. he's not going anywhere, not until he has way safe in his arms.

#peteway #pit babe fanfic #pitbabetober #whumptober 2024 #pit babe the series

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anxiouscr0w · 7 months ago

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[ESS Drabble] Find Me In Ruins

Heya! This is a non-canon drabble to go alongside my fic Emotional Support Staff. These can be read separately, but I recommend reading ESS for context

[Spoilers for Chapter 9!] A month after being taken off schedule you’re emailed by Management, and was hit with the dreaded ‘Thank you for your service’ message. You were fired. You avoided the Pizzaplex like your life depended on it, only to come back and find it in ruins. cw: a bit of panic, broken dca, brief descriptions of claustrophobia and a mouldy environment.

The full drabble is here! I'd post the full thing here but it's almost 4k words.

It had been years by now. You were one of the many employees fired during the employee purge at the Pizzaplex, and since then, you had never returned.

You wanted to, a lot actually.

But it was so expensive, needing different passes for different areas, and you wouldn’t be allowed to see the Daycare Attendant at all.

You had religiously avoided the Pizzaplex ever since, even news and gossip about the place. You had moved to a new residence to be closer to college, and besides, you had no reason to go to the area.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the animatronics. You never got closure on the mysterious workings of the Pizzaplex, all the controversies, the virus that plagued some of the robots… Monty’s attack, even. None of these things were answered, both to ex-employees and to the public.

And here you are, jaw on the floor in front of the building.

The whole place is in ruins, a masking shell of an exterior, hiding the crumbling destroyed interior. The car park once so full, is empty and lifeless. There’s no smells of the greasy food inside, the delighted squealing of excited children… nothing.

It stands alone, withholding memories of joy and delight, all left to rot and die.

You climb the rickety wooden structures covering the front entrance, dipping through a broken window. Your only source of light is your phone now, you can’t turn back, not yet.

Would they even still be here? They’re expensive animatronics, top technology. Surely they would have been moved somewhere?

The idea of all the animatronics slumped against a wall, collecting dust in a dingy warehouse somewhere… it hurts your chest.

During your time here, you had been able to hear the occasional skittering and squeaking of rats in the walls. Now, without the catchy music playing over the speakers, you can hear almost too much. Actually, it feels like an invasion of privacy almost. The secrets hidden within the bowels of the Pizzaplex, calling your name, urging you to find out the fates of your friends.

You had stayed away for so long, desperate of the relief from the relentless tugging in the back of your head. It was for the best, surely. You don’t even know if the animatronics would even want to talk to you again, perhaps they wouldn’t be allowed to.

The cracked glass crunches beneath your boots, taking in the rushed graffiti littering what used to be the lobby. The giant golden Freddy statue is nowhere to be seen; the turnstiles half sunken into the ground.

So many memories have faded into the dust that scatters the carcass of the Pizzaplex.

The echoes of your footsteps give away your location to whatever might be hiding within the walls. It’s a labyrinth of twisted entrails, you’re forced to crawl through half-collapsed structures and broken vent systems, you’re not getting out of here without at the very least, a few scrapes and bruises. If you’re lucky and the animatronics are still here, you doubt they made it. Crushed beneath the heavy machinery of the abandoned building.

Your breathing becomes shuddery in the stale air as you think about what may happen if you can’t find your way back.

After hours of trying to find your way, you land on your face in the Daycare, spat out of whatever vent you were in.

There are no lights on, unsurprisingly. No music. No children.

The colours are faded, probably years of dust layering the mats. The plastic of the slides is scratched to bits, parts are seemingly melted.

“Moon?” Your voice sounds impossibly loud through the empty space, no longer dulled by standing support beams and the speakers, nor the hum of constant electricity.

A static sound cuts through the following silence, then a somewhat familiar sight emerges from a play structure.

There they are - The Daycare Attendant.

Broken, shattered, ruined.

Their face is split, filled with cracks and missing faceplate and their endo peeking through. Their fingers no longer tipped with soft silicone, instead pointed metal, almost human-like in appearance. The jester pants you once washed now filthy and torn, and whatever mechanism that caused Sun and Moon’s colours to change is long gone, the patterns blending into each other. One foot is missing under the torn pant leg, displaying some kind of spring mechanism. Their chassis is broken and cracked almost everywhere. They still have their ribbons, but the edges are singed and the bells are missing, even on Moon’s hat. One eye glows a sickly blood red.

“Moon…?” You repeat, trying to desperately swallow back the cry from your throat, your nose and eyes stinging.

He lurches forward, almost like a zombie. A static-filled voice fills your ears.

“Fr-end…” His word cuts out, it’s almost too difficult to hear him.

You immediately run over, halted by the way he stumbles back, wringing his exposed hands nervously. Does he blame you for your firing? Does he think you abandoned him?

“It’s me! I didn’t know if you guys were still here and- and-and-and-” Your sentence trails off into a stammering mess of poorly repressed sobs.

You didn’t even expect to find them here, and you had nothing prepared to say if you happened to stumble across them.

Moon’s faceplate squeaks in complaint as it ticks and spins, the occasional sunray jittering out briefly. He takes a small step forward, dragging his other leg slightly behind. The occasional sunray juts out when he shuffles closer, each ray that you’ve seen are horribly cracked or completely broken, paired with the screeches of rusted mechanisms as they move.

You only worked in the Pizzaplex for about five months before the employee purge, but you still remember crystal clear what they used to be like. The smooth and calm swaying movements of Sun when he talked, the way his rays spun when he was happy… now you don’t even know if his AI is still active after all this time of being in the dark.

You take a deep, shaky breath. “Moon, what… what happened to you?”

Once he’s only a few inches away, he struggles to sit down, his leg sliding out under him until he’s sitting criss-cross. “Fire.”

Another pang of guilt and sadness hits your chest. His optics flicker, flinching back slightly when you reach a hand to his faceplate, eventually leaning forward and allowing your hand to rest at the side of his face. Moon’s faceplate is much colder than you remember.

“Is Sun still… here?” You ask, rubbing some dust from his face.

He pauses, movements twitchy as he reaches a skeleton-like hand to yours. The metal is so cold it almost feels like burning. Their hands are no longer protected by the casings and silicone. His hand rests upon yours, long digits curled to keep hold of you. The empty halls and silent speakers allow you to hear each mechanism, even the movement of his eyes.

“He has not been out for a long time.” He states, brushing a thumb over your hand. “But he is here.” With his other hand, he taps his head with a clawed finger, and repeats his words. “He is here.”

“Oh you two I-I’m so sorry!” You pretty much throw yourself at them, but he allows you to settle in his lap, despite the discomfort of broken jagged pieces poking into your skin. “I got fired, and I didn’t even know–”

Moon shushes you as he would a child. His eyes flicker on and off at times, sometimes to that familiar purple, but he seems to be doing a good job of keeping it back. Whatever virus he had when you worked here, he still has it. And here you are, sitting cradled in his lap.

You don’t think you care, really. After all you did years ago to keep Moon away (or at the very least, a reasonable distance), it feels wrong to stay away any longer.

Rubbing your eyes from tears, you shuffle to sit up properly, hugging him, your head over his shoulder. It takes no time for him to throw his arms around you.

You don’t know how you’re going to get out of the Pizzaplex, you don’t remember which ways you took, but you’re determined.

“I’m gonna get you guys out of here, I swear.” You declare, pulling away and looking into his eyes. “I don’t know how, but I will.”

It takes a bit of effort for him to get to his feet, pulling you up alongside him, looking out into the ruins of the Daycare.

Management wasn’t too stealthy with their mistreatment and neglect of the Daycare Attendant, it shouldn’t be too surprising that, out of all the animatronics, they’re the only ones you’ve found. Despite only knowing them for about five months, you hadn’t realized how much they’d grown on you until you were fired.

“We know… a way.” He says, tilting his faceplate.

“How come you’ve stayed here then…?”

“We had no reason to leave. Now we do.” His smile widens a little on the crescent side of his face. “Hold on.”

You look up at the whirring of the cable, now jittering down until it reaches its target.

---The rest of this drabble is on AO3, where things get silly---

#dca fandom #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #emotional support staff #ESS #ESS drabbles #ESS Coffee Stains #crow writes #dca x y/n #dca x reader #moon x you #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun x y/n #sun x reader #sun x you

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divnydoodles · 11 months ago

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“Scapegoat” (Story told through the Incubus Maine News Gazette)

(Warning for literary descriptions of violence, death, and injury)

~~~

“2 Bodies Found In The Harmony Arcadia; Owner Claims “Killer Robot” Is To Blame”

On April 22nd, 1994, The body of 25 year old [REDACTED] and 34 year old [REDACTED] were uncovered within the Harmony Arcadia. The victims were found tangled in an axial fan of the main ventilation system, recovered by unsuspecting maintenance workers. An autopsy revealed the cause of death to be blood loss and asphyxiation; [REDACTED] suffered blunt force trauma to his skull and chest, while [REDACTED] had visible fractures on her neck and clavicle from strangulation. The case was ruled almost instantly as a murder.

Police noted long, abnormal rows of shallow bruises and lacerations on both parties, wrapping around the limbs and torsos in a “spiral” pattern. Closer examination confirmed the wounds were sliced with metal coils, such as those represented on the Henry Security puppets (the Arcadia’s robotic security devision made to replace human security guards.)

Forensic investigators came to a definitive conclusion that the puppets were somehow used in the murders, and received verification from Arthur Greywhinder—the founder and creator of the Harmony Arcadia— in his police interview.

He confirmed that the puppets are programmed to only ever act on the commands of their artificially intelligent leader, the Commander Henry. Every action they make is result of its own explicit instructions, which provided a compelling lead to a deeper investigation. According to investigators, the Commander wasn’t able to be brought in for questioning; it verbally invoked its “fifth amendment right to remain silent” before the interrogators had the chance to speak with it one-on-one.

Only when security camera footage was accessed did law enforcement unfold the hidden story. Video logs reported that on the night [REDACTED] went missing, the Commander intentionally disabled all cameras in the Arcadia until the next morning. The same was said for [REDACTED], whose car would never be moved from the mall parking lot. It remains unclear whether or not the Commander itself was behind the assault, or if it sent the other security puppets to attack the victims, but its unmistakable involvement was enough to convince authorities to take action.

On April 30th, after the video footage was released, Commander was officially handed over as evidence to the Incubus Maine police department. First-hand police accounts reveal that the puppet violently resisted the arrest, regarding that it took six officers to restrain the machine and move it outside of the building.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” one injured officer told reporters. “You know, you wake up, have breakfast, go to work like usual, and the next minute you’re expected to take down a killing machine with a couple of your partners. Like c’mon now… I just barely got my shoes on. It’s too early for this…”

Greywhinder spoke with press that afternoon concerning the murders. He suggested that faulty wiring must have been the initial cause of the robot’s malfunction, but later doubled down on his first assertion, claiming instead that:

“…The Commander Artificial Intelligence grew sentient, and became filled with a bitter hatred for humanity…”

He continued:

“…What was once created to protect the Arcadia became its greatest threat… I believe I speak for all of us when I say no one could have predicted these horrific acts at the hands of our trusted ally. Given the subject matter, I fully understand the public scrutiny. A case as this one feels all too familiar…”

As of writing, the investigation is still underway. Greywhinder himself declared in his speech that Commander will be disassembled on May the 8th by authorities, and that the security puppets will be temporarily discontinued to avoid the risk of anymore attacks.

“…There comes a time in every man’s life where he has to put his foot down in the event of a liability. You do what you have to in order to protect your family. The Commander—in this situation— is a rabid dog. A once beloved pet, reduced to nothing but a raving, sputtering mess of an animal. It’s best for all of us that he’s swiftly put down before he gets the chance to infect anyone else…”

Ultimately, a trial will not be held for the android, nor was a confession ever recorded. The Commander was last seen in its final moments being transported away from the mall in a police vehicle. The Arcadia has agreed to make investments towards more human security guards, and the families of the deceased will be awarded with financial compensation.

—Journalist I.F. of the Incubus Maine News Gazette

~~~

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darkmaga-returns · 5 days ago

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The genie is out of the bottle, granting wishes to the Technocrats of the world. Like a “Person of Interest” episode, drones can use high-resolution facial recognition cameras to harvest images and conversations of all people along the flight path. The constant use of drones puts a blanket of fear on citizens who don’t want to be caught in a surveillance dragnet. ⁃ Patrick Wood, Editor.

The New York Police Department has launched a new program that will send drones zipping to emergency scenes before officers can get there.

Two drones will be stationed at each of five NYPD station houses, including the one that oversees the 843 acres of Manhattan’s iconic Central Park. Three precincts in Brooklyn and one in the Bronx will also be getting the drones as part of the “Drone as First Responder” initiative.

“New York City is flying into the future as we keep New Yorkers safe,” Mayor Eric Adams said in a statement Wednesday. “These drones will mean more efficient policing and will help increase the safety of our responding NYPD officers and New Yorkers.”

The drones will be deployed remotely and programmed to autonomously fly to the exact longitude and latitude of emergencies, including missing-person searches, alerts from the NYPD’s ShotSpotter gunfire detection system and crimes in progress, according to the mayor’s office.

Once a drone arrives at the scene, an NYPD drone pilot at police headquarters in Lower Manhattan or another location will take control of the device. High-resolution cameras equipped with night vision technology and high-definition audio microphones will allow pilots to assess situations and send live feeds to the smartphones of officers and supervisors on the ground.

The new program marks the latest expansion of the NYPD’s use of drones, which has drawn criticism from advocates of civil liberties and privacy rights since it began in late 2018.

“These drones would be disturbing enough on their own, but pairing them with a discredited vendor like ShotSpotter is even worse,” Albert Fox Cahn, executive director of the non-profit Surveillance Technology Oversight Project, told the Guardian.

“Recent reviews have found that the vast majority of ShotSpotter alerts are wild goose chases, sending the NYPD to the scenes of crimes that never happened. Sending robots chasing after phantom gunshots that are actually fireworks and car backfires is a privacy nightmare.”

A spokesperson for Fremont, California-based SoundThinking Inc., which makes the ShotSpotter, didn’t immediately return a request for comment from International Business Times on Monday.

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paigelts05 · 8 months ago

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Vanessa Diego [FNAF AR, Renegade AU]

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/Vanessa-Diego-FNAF-AR-Renegade-AU-1039641646

Published: Apr 07 2024

CK animatronic maintenance and R&D Robotics contract with Faz Ent has ended, but their stories are far from over.

Vanessa Diego used to work for Silver Parasol until she left in 2018 after the HW incident stole away the face of one of her friends, an eye from another friend, the sanity of her sister, and more harrowingly enough, partial control over her own body.

She told her friends that it was for thier own safety, and it really was: she didn't want to put them in danger by keeping the thing that had harmed them so much so close by, as she knew that whatever - or whoever - it was that had posessed her in such an unconventional way wanted her friends dead for their 'failure to properly harbour him'.

She started a new job somewhere else, that place being CK animatronic maintenance, but the she went on a camping trip a few days before, but got stranded by a storm when she tried to head back to the car park, so she kept her camp up and intended to just hold out, but she heard someone nearby fall and scream, so she found them - a man about her age, all on his own, and in really bad shape with a twisted ankle and some cuts from the undergrowth - and brought him back to her camp to patch him up. After he woke up and they had a small conversation, she realised that this was Luis: one of the guys who runs the maintenance firm she was due to start working for tomorrow.

She found her and Luis's first meeting to be cute, but wasn't sure why he never brought it up. Maybe he just didn't remember.

Though, she did get along with him very well, and him with her, so she started going out for coffee with him! She doesn't know what he calls it, but she calls it a date!

Though her new job wasn't all fun and games with William sitting in the back of her mind and all. Some days, William would force her to have the day off her normal job at CK animatronic maintenance to do her 'Faz Ent work', as William put it, because she had to go to abandoned Faz Ent HQs in order to have a 'propper meeting' with William on the man's own turf, and on one of these excursions where Luis had tagged along, William had tried to kill him, but with quick thinking, she did what she had to do to keep Luis alive: by 'attacking' him herself, only causing enough superficial wounds with two hits of a bat to trick William into thinking that she actually meant it, when in reality, it was the only way she could have kept Luis alive.

Later down the line, whilst she was working on some chip sorting work as a part of the contract that Faz Ent had made with CK animatronic maintenance, a virus got into the computer systems, and it wasn't William: he was already where he needed to be. It was Adelaide. With both Aftons in the systems, things started to go horribly wrong, and after getting a nasty shock from the servers when she was helping Luis clean them up, more things statred going wrong: Faz Ent seemed to be trying to kill them.

The Adelaide incident was the culmination of everything that had gone wrong so far. Ness just counted herself lucky that she hadn't been there for it.

Several days after that incident, William had made Ness ill in order to strand her at home and used her weakened state to effectively hold her hostage in her own apartment, only letting Ness leave the apartment to pick up deliveries from CK animatronic maintenance's office. He did this so she could use the V_A account to extract Adelaide, who had gone into hiding in the systems due to R&D robotics catching onto her next plan too quickly and leave the pure computer virus behind. Though going to the office to pick up deliveries was how Ness was saved: William went to pick up a delivery, and Anna and Raha were able to jump her, scaring William for long enough for Ness to take back over.

It was confirmed once again: she was posessed by William. Everyone knew that William Afton had been manipulating her somehow, and even though they had confirmed that he was possessing her several times, this just confirmed their worst suspicions: he had never left her head and knew everything.

Every time they had thought that Ness was safe to speak or even think, William had always been there. Leeching off of her body and mind. Playing along.

Ness then moved in with Luis for three reasons. 1: she could no longer bear her apartment. 2: safety in numbers and not wanting to live alone. 3: she loved him.

Somehow, aside from William occasionally taking over and the occasional mandatory visit to an old Faz Ent HQ, their lives were somewhat normal; Ness had been able to avoid killing anyone so far, and she seemed to have William under control. Ness and Luis had even gotten engaged. Everything seemed OK.

Until the late autumn of 2021. The worst month and a half of their lives.

It started when William finally took over Ness and spirited her away to the megaplex across the other side of the country: she had been kidnapped by a ghost. Then, he forced her to kill. But she always did everything she could to stall: she has plenty of wounds from attacking herself to buy William's victims more time. A month after she was initially kidnapped, Luis had finally been able to track her down: Faz Ent had many HQs, and they could be rotating her through any number of them to make it harder for the police to find her, but it was pretty clear to see where they had been holding her: she'd been at the megaplex the whole time. The police (mostly just Mike, Danielle, and Carl with the weight of the world on thier shoulders) couldn't get a warrant as there was not enough evidence even though they knew, and her sister was in a risky situation of mutual blackmail against Bill Blake, but despite the flow of information being slow and risky, Luis had found her using what little he had to go off of. Sylvia had also fed Luis what she knew about what needed to be done to save Ness.

And on the night Luis played the second arcade and was primed to play the third, William almost made her kill Luis. Twice.

She and Luis had been fortunate enough for Luis to survive both times, but it still terrified her how close to the wire it had been for her to wretch back enough control to give Luis a shot at defeating her in the east arcade early in the night, and how much begging it took for William to allow her to heal him after PQ3 didn't let him in.

Fortunately, less than a week later, a child named Gregory found Luis's notes on the arcades, and that combined with Sylvia beating the other arcades that had kept PQ3 locked, Sylvia and Gregory wound up in a mutually oblivious tango that ended with Gregory able to play PQ3, unaware that Sylvia was nearby and that it was her presence that let him in whilst Sylvia was terrified that the kid would take the coward's path and set the staffbots on her sister. But Gregory chose to save her and succeeded.

Gregory and Ness had mutual knowledge of eachother beforehand: Ness knew of the Clone 46 experiments, and Gregory knew of the original Patient 46. So it was no surprise that Ness had adopted this orphan who had been forced to live through her trauma.

A week later, Mike, Danielle, and Carl had managed to secure enough evidence to get the warrant they needed to raid the megaplex: a raid they'd been planning since Ness went missing. Whilst it went rather well on the evidence front, Ness, Sylvia, Gregory, Cassie, and Mike faced one life threatening situation after another. Though they seemed to be the ONLY group with such bad luck. Come six AM, those who wanted to face off against William stayed to descend into the deepest heart of the megaplex whilst everyone else evacuated. Of course Ness was amongst those who stayed.

The deepest heart of the megaplex was underneath Roxy Raceway. That is where Adelaide kidnapped Luis, used her control technology to turn him into a killing machine, and then sent him to attack them. Ness managed to take the feral assassin down and remove the control module, but she felt herself getting posessed, and that's when they met Gaz's deceased father who helped Ness thwart William's attempts. Then once the C location guards plus Gaz dispatched Daniel Discord, their former manager from their Freddy's days, Ness was finally able to confront William in a battle that took more of a psychic form, using the ghosts within to force the remnant William was using to rebuild his body to bend to the will of the people and force William to burn himself alive. Whilst Adelaide extracted William before it got too risky, the Burntrap body was now no longer viable, setting back William's plans.

After that, Ness thought it was over, but Faz Ent wouldn't let Ness go that easy. They sent Cheryl M., Todd C., and Charles Ramirez to kidnap her, and unfortunately, they succeeded and brought her back to the megaplex. Those three seemed to be trying to figure something out, and that something involved them cutting her skin open from sternum to stomach, but she was able to use the blood as a tripping hazard to slip away and hide in west Arcade where she found Freddy's head next to an arcade machine that was playing a short clip of Cheryl's ambush on Sylvia and Gregory.

Sylvia and Gregory had mobilised to save her, but also wound up getting ambushed and kidnapped by Cheryl, and it's a clip from that ambush that Ness had saw on the screens, but it didn't set the duo back and they quickly found a Ness who wasn't sure if she was alive or dead. When they were about to escape, Cheryl, Todd, and Charles Ramirez ambushed them and the trio wound up kidnapped and separated. Ness wound up stuck with Todd in the Fazerblast control room, but was quickly able to knock Todd out before he could continue with whatever faux-medical analysis he was trying to perform on her. She then met up with Sylvia, who seemed to have one of Adelaide's control modules on her chest courtesy of Charles Ramirez, but she also seemed to not be swayed by it. The sisters then saved Gregory, who had been forced into running a deduction by Cheryl. Gregory said something about Cassie dying trying to save him, so when the trio were about to escape for real, Sylvia stayed behind after detonating the remote demolition explosives she had been leaving about the megaplex (she'd gotten a gig at Stan's budget demolitions, the company the courts hired to demolish the megaplex, so Sylvia was only doing her job here), whilst Ness and Gregory used Sylvia's car to get to the hospital.

The next time Ness saw Sylvia was about 40 hours later, and Sylvia was with an unconscious but alive Cassie.

During Ness's hospital stay (she needed so much treatment not just for the wounds inflicted by the exec trio, but those she had sustained whilst under William's control too), William attempted to possess her, but to Ness's surprise, he was contained and suppressed: the ghost of her own dad, who had gone missing when she was very young, was possessing her, and had been since the end of the Raid.

Once everyone was finally able to go home, the nightmare wasn't entirely over. Ness beat herself up over it all until the ghosts of the victims William had killed whilst using her as a vessel told her in no uncertain terms that they knew that she was posessed and had done everything she could have and more to try and prevent their deaths; they'd all seen her stab herself to buy them more time to run, but in the end, the animatronics got most of them.

She was fortunately able to internalise this, and it helped her make one of the most important decisions of her life: when presented with the possibility of a literal human prison being used to contain William Afton - he'd escaped from Scraptrap, his own undead body, before so trapping a robotic body of his in a regular prison would achieve worse than nothing - Ness jumped at the chance to permanently keep William contained and out of the hands of Faz Ent. Nobody was exactly surprised.

When the day came, Ness, Sylvia, Cassey, the samurai ghost known as OMC, and Cassie all worked together to lure William into a VR game that Faz Ent used to train it's megaplex staff and trap him in a fourth Princess Quest game that Sylvia, Cassey, and Ness had put into the game. Cassie was able to lure William to where Ness was waiting, where she essentially consumed him, the Vanny avatar crushing him in her hands, Ness absorbing his ghost and trapping it deep within.

Thanks to a pair of control bracers (bracers designed for those posessed by violent ghosts to be able to keep the ghost from taking over thier bodies) and the constant effort of herself and her dad's ghost, Ness is able to live normally amongst the public and is happy with her role as the Warden.

She is able to live with Luis, and now Gregory too, and live the normal life she'd always hoped for.

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trojanteapot · 2 years ago

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Keep thinking back to how the Train in IF really does represent the systems that society puts in place IRL.

Because the question as to why did Grace and Simon misunderstand the train so much? Well it's simple, they kinda didn't to some extent. they were just picking up what the train was putting down.

For example in episode 6 of season 2, in the lucky cat car, when Lake and Jesse were in the Cat's amusement park, Lake pointed out that their score wasn't increasing as much as Jesse's despite them winning most of the carnival games. And I believe another example of this inequality is in season 3: killing denizens increases your number a lot, but not as much as trying to kill a passenger (compare how much Simon's number increases when he kills Tuba vs when he tries to kill Grace)

Telling people to figure out the Train for themselves seems to kind of be disastrous more often than we think. It's just like how telling people to "figure it out" in real life leads to the same thing. People will notice certain things about your system, like who gets treated what way, but instead of coming to the conclusion that it's unethical or broken, they might just think "well that's how the world just works" i.e. with racism, poor people, any sort of marginalized group who are at a disadvantage

So that's why even if you do start to point out the systemic injustices and try to fix it and make the system more equitable, it's not always enough to convince everyone. One such example is how after Tulip returned One-One to the engine, and he made some videos to explain how the train works to new passengers, it's still not enough to convince Grace and Simon that they were wrong, and they were just like "that ball robot thing isn't the real conductor lol nice try."

Look I know Contrapoints made a whole new video recently about how you need to defeat people who are stuck at the bottom of the hate whirlpool instead of try to convince them to come to your side and I know that at the end of season 3, Simon is supposed to be there, which is why he had to be "defeated" by getting his face eaten by the leopards eating people's faces party a ghom (Grace saving him from falling wasn't enough) but i still feel bad for him and no one can make me not feel bad for him.

and BTW i don't sympathize with or try to convince IRL conservatives or bigots okay? i can separate fiction from reality. please stop haranguing me and other Simon fans about that lmao

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carparkingsystems · 7 months ago

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carparkingsystem · 1 year ago

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4 Things That Make Automatic Tower Parking System A Top Parking Alternative

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Also Read: Is Puzzle Parking Really A Smart Parking System?

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Also Read: FEATURES OF A TOWER PARKING SYSTEM EVERY BUSINESS OWNER MUST KNOW

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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago

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Do you ever wonder how they film those cool car chases in movies? You might think that they close down a street, and have professional drivers operate special cars, and do a bunch of trickery to encourage everyone’s safety. And this is what they tell you in the behind-the-scenes featurette about the making of the movie.

Of course, all this politeness and forethought takes a lot of money, and time, and it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. That’s why genuine folk hero H. B. Halicki skipped it back in the 70s. No, he figured that a car chase had to have some realism. What he did was buy a bunch of cars and hire friends to drive them recklessly through real streets, without telling anyone. Sure, some of those friends driving the cars were stuntmen, or at least preternaturally talented rednecks. They’re still driving past terrified grocery shoppers, commuters, and in many cases, police. All for the sake of filmic realism. You gotta love it.

Of course, this kind of movie is not possible to make these days. Not because of increased law enforcement, or a shift in civic morality, or the skyrocketing prices of insurance. No: it’s not possible because you can’t buy a whole ton of shitty cars even if you are a billionaire. When every random moron on Craigslist wants five-and-a-half grand for a 1985 Civic wagon that doesn’t run or even have a hood, whatever budget you set out for your crazy reckless stunt is going to be blown. It’s cheaper to do it Hollywood’s way: at least then you’re only paying new-car prices, usually even subsidized by the automakers who really want a 2023 Hyundai Elantra to narrowly avoid understeering into a bunch of robots. Sure, the chases aren’t as good because you have to keep focusing on the logo on the grille, the parallel-parking assist, and the infotainment system inside the hero’s car, but the car is free. And that’s the best way to make a movie.

So if anyone out there from the “real” auto industry is reading this, please feel free to drop off a whole transporter of new cars in front of my house. I’m gonna film the greatest car chase ever seen, and not at all pay my flunky friends – some of whom are stuntmen, stuntwomen, or non-denominational stuntfolx – to drive them at high speed off-road until we wreck all of them. Plot? Yeah, if you’ve got one, drop that off too, please.

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bountyhaunter · 1 month ago

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TIMING: Spring PARTIES: Sai & Daiyu LOCATION: Larry's house SUMMARY: Daiyu and Sai get their curse broken! CONTENT: N.A.

Her spellcaster contact was booked and busy and had told Daiyu (who had been line dancing all the way through the conversation) that he’d be available in three to five business days, to which she’d ended the conversation. Sai and her had agreed on one thing: they were not going to wait a bureaucratically acceptable amount of time before getting this shit fixed.

So an ambush it was going to be.

Daiyu and Sai had danced their way to her car, had gotten into the truck and ever since she’d started it, she’d had battled the impossible task of not talking while she drove. To talk was, after all, to dance. And to dance behind the steering wheel … well, even she knew that would be disastrous.

The drive was much too long to not require any yapping, and so her head had turned a few shades more red with frustration. Add the fact that everyone in traffic was acting like a buffoon and Daiyu was incapable of cussing them, their mother, their pet and their house to hell and back, and she was ready to implode. Lifting middle fingers at other drivers worked well enough, but it was nothing. She looked at Sai in the passenger seat and mouthed the words kill me as the robot voice of her navigation system let her know she was almost at her destination.

—

It was a quiet ride, considering the whole dancing while talking thing, although not the most calm. But Daiyu was managing to keep quiet fairly well. Sai, on the other hand, had questions. He managed to catch himself before talking to her, most of the time. Every now and then he’d forget himself. The first and most important of his questions was what neighborhood they were going to, seeing as it wasn’t past sunset yet in other parts of town. He was impatient to solve the dancing problem. But not so impatient he’d walk through sunlight. Luckily, he’d only gotten a few words out before he realized he could figure that one out for himself. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll look it up,” he said, in answer to his own question, and leaned over to fiddle with the GPS. Their destination seemed to be on the edge of Nightfall Grove. Safe enough.

Did this spellcaster actually know anything about curses? Sai wondered idly as she drove, somehow managing to be in a silent fight with everyone on the road. Was curses something someone specialized in? He’d forgotten to ask much about specifics before they’d taken off. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even bothered to ask if this person knew what they were doing, or was more of an amateur. “So how good is this friend of yours?” Sai wondered aloud, just as she looked over to mouth… something to him. “I’m not sure what you said, but don’t answer that,” he added, as his feet started moving underneath him, constrained by the seatbelt. “At least not until we’re parked,” he said. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the door, and glanced over at the GPS as they drove up on their destination. Was it the spellcaster’s house? He stopped himself before asking. They could talk properly soon enough.

—

It was like being at a dentist. Mouth wide open, unable to talk while the doctor prattled along, asking questions about life and brushing habits. Daiyu hated the dentist — not only because of the invasion of personal space, but because she was unable to talk. It should come as no surprise that she’d bitten a fair amount of dentists in her lifetime, though it wouldn’t serve to start biting Sai while she was driving. It’d take a lot of maneuvring that’d make driving hard, just as talking (and cursed dancing) would. And so she tried to mouth a few words at him as he asked a question, attempting to say Super good, even if it was a lie. He was just a guy she once got some Pin Ball quills and who had not seemed like an absolute and total jerk.

She gave Sai a thumbs up that had the same energy as her previous middle fingers dedicated to other drivers before she returned her hand to the steering wheel to grip it angrily again. At least it wasn’t a long drive. She pulled up in front of the house, doing a shoddy job of parking and letting out a long groan when she’d turned off the car. Her legs started to attempt a plié, but as she was seated there was no way for her to pull it off and so it ended as he groan did. Daiyu was out of the car in a matter of seconds, slamming the door behind her. “Fucking hell,” she said, tangoing towards the front door. “That was the worst. Drive. Ever.” A little dramatic and entirely untrue, as she’d had many worse drives, but she didn’t remember those now. Her body was too busy tangoing for her memory to work. “Not my friend, for the record. Jerri is …” She hoped that was his name, “We’re business associates.” In the business of dealing supernatural animal parts.

—

“Huh, okay,” Sai said, as he twirled out of the car to follow Daiyu. He hadn’t bothered to wonder before this moment why she knew someone who could break curses in the first place. But he could rest easy, at least, knowing she wasn’t a slayer, since if was, she’d probably already have tried to kill him. “What’s your business?”

He walked up the front steps, wondering what the best move was to convince this guy to help them. Ring the doorbell, or go around back and refuse to leave. Front door, probably. Especially considering Daiyu wasn’t friends with this person, they might not take it too kindly. And who knew what else a curse breaker could do? He rang the doorbell. A muffled, “Fuck off! The sign says no solicitors,” came from inside. Sai glanced over at Daiyu and rang it again.

—

Her business was killing creatures – some of which also happened to be partly humanoid – and making a profit of that, but she couldn’t say that. “I’m a food critic,” she answered, shimmying her shoulders as she did, “And the rest of my business is none of yours.” Daiyu thought that was a very clever answer once she stopped shimmying. She kind of hoped that she could retain some of these dance moves once all was over and done.

Jerri yelled at the doorbell, probably without dancing, and Daiyu almost respected him for it. As Sai rang the doorbell again, she started hammering on the door with both her fists, not using all the strength she had. She would, though, should she need to, “Jerri! Open the fucking door!” She had to stop pounding to do what seemed to be a popular TikTok dance. At least this curse kept up with current trends. “It’s Daiyu! You owe me!” She wasn’t sure if he did, in all fairness, but it was a good thing to say. “And it’s a fucking emergency like I said. I have this amulet and if you don’t let us in I will put it around your neck by force and —”

The door swung open. An angry looking man in his late sixties stared down at the two people at his door. His opening statement was very clear: “My name is Larry.”

—

Sai shot Daiyu a look. She hadn’t even remembered the man’s name right? That didn’t put them off to a good start. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she said,” Sai told the man. He kept accidentally bumping into Daiyu as he danced side to side on the narrow top step up to the door. “You must have misheard her.” The guy didn’t look like he believed Sai, but at least he hadn’t closed the doors in their face yet.

“U-huh.” The man crossed his arms, looking over the two of them. Sai tried not to think about getting turned into a frog, or whatever it was people who knew about curses could do. “I told you on the phone. Three to five business days. No one’s died from the can-can. But maybe I’ll be lucky and you’ll be the first.”

“We can pay you,” Sai added. Maybe it went without saying, but this seemed like a good time to make an offer. It was difficult for Sai to pull out his wallet while dancing, but after finishing talking he was able to open it and grab a couple twenties. He nudged Daiyu, intentionally this time, hoping to prompt her to chip in the other 40. “Eighty dollars,” Sai said, decisively. He wasn’t exactly sure what the going rate was for curse-breaking. “And we’ll be on our way and stop ringing your doorbell.” He tried to leave the implication hanging that they would stand out here all night ringing it if the man left them hanging, but he wasn’t sure if Larry got the idea. It was probably hard to take Sai seriously while he was jumping around with jazz hands.

—

Names were hard, strange and diverse. Daiyu could not be expected to tell the world’s Jerry’s, Larry’s and Terry’s apart — that would just be too much to ask. “Yup,” she said, nodding to Sai’s defense of her. She knew he was probably just doing it because he wanted to stop dancing whenever he talked, but it was still nice of him to do so.

She was about to mouth off to Larry (or was it Terry?) that she would be the first to die of it if it was the last thing she did, as Daiyu was prone to taking everything as a challenge. When the spellcaster announced it would be lucky for him if she died, she decided against it though. “If I were to die from the can can I would haunt your ass so bad —” Dancing while she spoke made her more aware of the fact that she was speaking and that she wasn’t saying very helpful things. She wired her jaw shut and let Sai lead, who spoke the language every person did: money.

To be fair, she had expected to have to pay. Gary had paid her to get some ingredients for him, and she’d pay him to get rid of this very annoying curse. He seemed interested enough in the prospect, but shook his head, “Nope. Has to be at least double for the rush job if you want me to help you.” Even when Daiyu’s finger was hovering threateningly over the doorbell. “175 actually, for attitude.”

She glanced at Sai, kept her mouth sealed as she dug for her wallet and fingered a few notes of cash. She had a fair bit, as bounty hunters tended to. Most people didn’t wire their blood money. “I have a great attitude,” she said, waving some of her bills around. “We can do sixty up front, the rest after. And 160 total.” Spellcasters were such nuisances sometimes, but curses were even worse.

—

The man looked between them a few times, before snatching the bills waving in his face. He paged through them as he talked as if he was counting the three 20s. “Okay. 160,” he said, pointing at Daiyu. “But the game’s on in an hour. If I haven’t fixed it by then, you both come back later.”

“That sounds great,” Sai said quickly before Daiyu could jump in and annoy the man into raising the price again. His statement was punctuated with a short tap dance that he felt really made his point. Of course, if Larry hadn’t fixed the curse by the time the game came on, he still wasn’t planning on waiting another three to five business days, but they could figure that out when they got there. With any luck, they’d get this fixed in no time. The guy sounded confident enough he could help them.

“Well, let’s see the thing, then,” Larry said, pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

—

The game was on in an hour. She wanted to unwire her jaw and sink her teeth into his pointing finger after telling him that caring this much about live sports on a television was ridiculous. She was a beacon of self control as she resisted both that and the urge to point back at him. Daiyu threw her ass back, “Deal.”

As Larry worked on putting on his old-man glasses, she moved into the house so there was less risk of dancing herself off the step to the door. They were paying him, which meant he should invite them into his house. It would also make it easier should Larry prove even more annoying than he already was, as being half out on the street was not favorable for these kinds of clandestine, under the table, potentially violent meetings. She didn't want to fight the spellcaster, but if he really did prioritize his game over this curse, she might be incapable of controlling herself.

She dug in her pocket for the amulet and held it out, “Here you go,” she said, twirling twice on her tippytoes before properly handing it to Larry. The spellcaster refused to touch it though, and just bent closer with his glasses on.

“Lacks imagination,” he muttered, “That's just offensive, at this point.” He looked up, said very little to his dancing, uninivited guests and moved deeper into the belly of his home. “Come.”

—

They followed the man to the back of his house and through a backyard of dead grass, mostly empty beyond some dilapidated yard chair with missing vinyl slats. Larry opened up what looked like the door to the garage, and beckoned them in. Metal racks lined the room inside, filled with plastic tubs. They were labeled, but the handwriting was bad enough it was impossible for Sai to read what any of them said. He wondered if that was intentional or not.

Larry gestured to an empty metal table sitting in the middle of the room. “Leave it there,” he said, as he went to a back bench and pulled out an old plastic toolbox. He threw back the two sides of the lid, and rummaged around for a moment before pulling out what looked like a standard hammer.

Sai had been expecting something with a little more fanfare. Something that looked a little more like it might break a curse. Beyond vampires, there was only so much of the supernatural world he’d learned in the last few decades, and there was still plenty left to surprise him. Maybe the man had done something to the hammer already that might make it better suited to a task like this. Sai glanced at Daiyu, considering asking, but decided it wasn’t worth the dance moves. He’d see for himself how the whole process worked well enough. “If I’m right, this is an easy one,” Larry said, as he waited for Daiyu to set the amulet down. “If I’m wrong – well, the good news for you both is I’m usually not.”

—

Daiyu carried the amulet with great distaste, and not just because Jerry had called it uninspired. She did not concern herself with his opinions, even though she did agree: it was boring, to curse a locket. People should start cursing every day objects, like free promotional keychains or plastic knives. That would be much more chaotic. She imagined a world where she was a spellcaster; that world would know no peace, none at all.

She dropped the amulet with little grace, looking around the room without shame. She had half a mind to pick up a jar holding something jellified and shake it to see what would happen, but Daiyu would like to stop dancing first. Priorities and whatnot.

She looked at Terry with a look of disbelief. A hammer? “For real?” She was critically shimmying as she asked the question, but kept her mouth shut after on account of all the shimmying. It made her criticisms not sound as harsh as she wanted them to, and Daiyu didn't want to seem super enthusiastic about Terry making a joke out of all this.

“Yes,” he said tersely, aiming the hammer up before slamming it down. Not once, but thrice, in a swift and surprisingly strong manner that had Daiyu wondering if he was hiding large biceps underneath that ridiculous outfit of his. Larry looked at Sai, his preferred intruder of the day (as far as one could prefer an intruder, of course, which wasn't too far at all). “Well? Are you still dancing or …?”

—

Sai took a few steps back from the table as amulet shards went flying out from under Larry’s hammer. Should they be wearing protective goggles or something? Larry didn’t seem too concerned with it, though, as he turned to Sai.

“Oh, uh, I’m not sure,” Sai started, but with the words he’d already answered the man’s question. There was no uncontrollable urge. That tension in the muscles that had burst from every sentence was gone. He was standing still. “It looks like it’s fixed.” He looked over at the broken amulet, scattered in pieces across the table. It was good they’d had an expert to consult, sure. Only it seemed like maybe Daiyu and he should have thought to try that first. It took a little bit of the edge of Sai’s joy on not having to dance everywhere.

“Great, job well done, then,” Larry grunted. “Pay up, so you can get out of my hair.”

“Oh right,” Sai said, getting out his wallet, before remembering he’d already pulled all the cash from it. “Do you take Venmo or…” he glanced at Daiyu to see if she’d jump in.

—

She watched with relief how Sai stopped dancing and Daiyu opened her mouth with a new level of excitement. As a certified yapper, being robbed of the ability to talk without straining had been quite the curse. “Fuck yes,” she said, while standing completely still. “You’re a miracle wo—” She stopped her compliments, remembering Larry’s general attitude. Best not make him feel too good about this entire ordeal. Especially because he was being paid. That was enough of feel good, she figured.

“Whatever. You did okay,” she said, rolling her eyes demonstratively before pulling out her wallet. She wasn’t very versed in internet security, but she had a feeling that spellcasters could curse venmo requests. She got out the remaining owed cash, pushing it into Larry’s greedy hands. “There.”

She eyed Sai, “I do take venmo.” A toothy grin was added to that statement, though unsaid went the threat that she always found people who owed her money.

“Get out, then,” Larry said before any of those sentiments could be verbalized. Daiyu offered the spellcaster another expression of disgruntledness (despite the fact that he’d saved her) before turning on her heel and leaving the weird house behind. She could not wait to tell people about this without any awkward dance moves.

#step up.#threads.#sai.

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bright-and-burning · 6 months ago

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just remembered i missed all sorts of tags dkjnkjfdsanf tagged by @foggieststars @omigodyall @liamlawsonlesbian @albonoooo AND @freeuselandonorris !!!

1. do you make your bed?

not unless people are coming over (i have a studio apartment), but i also only sleep w a duvet in the summer lol

2. favourite number?

13! my first high school soccer number. i loved being the unlucky number <3 something so fun about being the shortest person on the team w the unlucky number coming on and playing aggressively lol

3. what's your job?

i'm a data analyst! for a government research group. kind of. it’s complicated aksjksjd. demographics + economics + policy stuff most of the time, i think (idk, they just pay me to do numbers and code)

4. if you could go back to school, would you?

yeah, my job'll get me my masters for free and i am definitely taking them up on that

5. can you parallel park?

yes!!!

6. do you think aliens are real?

the universe is mad vast there's def lifeforms out there. definitely no humanoids in our solar system imo tho

7. can you drive a manual car?

no kfjdsakfj i've never driven manual. i want to learn! but you would not believe how hard that is like, logistically. just finding someone who owns a manual is impossible lmao

8. guilty pleasure?

i simply do not feel guilt abt pleasure. jk uhhhh. ok this is so hard i did the full thing and came back to this and still dont have an answer. naps during the workday? some of my music taste is like . fjdskajf. i guess

9. tattoos?

none for now !

10. favourite colour?

all of the sunset ones!! orange and pink and purples.. beloved....

11. favourite type of music?

im sure spotify will say my top genre recently is. rap? pop? one of those two. but that's just the mood im in this summer. last summer was extremely folk americana rock indie modge podge

12. do you like puzzles?

YES!!!! it's like. why i'm in the career im in lol every project i work on is just solving puzzles w the exact same rush of satisfaction at completing it/figuring it out lol

13. favourite childhood sport?

i did . so many sports as a kid. if it was free/cheap my parents were throwing us in just to try lol. played soccer, did taekwondo, did like ten years of dance (tap >>> ballet if im honest), running, kickball every day after school for years, gymnastics for a bit, more or less self-taught figure skating w second hand skates, etc etc. to say nothing of the random sports i tried one(or two or three)-offs of with friends at like birthday parties or w/e (loved hockey ! loved softball ! loved tennis !) i liked soccer best for sure tho. perfect mix of the like quick feet agility i loved about tap dancing and the exhilaration of success and watching everything come together in the right moment of all the other things

14. do you talk to yourself?

yes and no? im actually quite quiet despite living alone but i have a constant running monologue so things slip out all the time ldkfjal

15. tea or coffee?

...neither

16. first thing you wanted to be when growing up?

an engineer!! #womeninstem. when i was 3 i would go around saying i wanted to be an engineer and make a million dollars a year and adopt 12 kids (6 boys 6 girls). that was the very first eve dream

17. what movies do you adore?

40s and 50s musicals >>>>. technicolor how i miss you so... gene kelly movies were my bread and butter as a kid. i do love wes anderson can't lie. also chris nolan movies! they hit! like they just do!! also robots (2005).

i genuinely think everyone has been tagged. just guessing based on how many times ive been tagged here. DJFLAK

#tag game

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