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zenith-impact · 4 years ago

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Albedo - Creation

Summary: Albedo wants to make you something special for your birthday. He never thought it would be so difficult.

Notes: This is part of my fifty theme challenge. If you want to request your own story, you can find the list here!

Albedo was a master of alchemy. It was rare for him to find a problem he couldn’t solve with some ingenuity. Others called him a genius, but Albedo merely thought his work was simple for someone like him.

Tomorrow, however, was a very special day- the day of your birth- and he had yet to find that perfect gift. The institution of gift-giving was already a foreign enough concept. He’d mostly relied on Sucrose to tell him what to buy for whom. But this time, with only a week to prepare, she’d stubbornly put her foot down. “They’re your partner,” Sucrose said. “Figure it out yourself.” So, not one to be deterred by a challenge, Albedo decided the solution was simple: if he couldn’t buy the right gift, he’d simply make you one.

His first instinct had, of course, been alchemy. A new weapon seemed like a good start, and Albedo could make most of the things the blacksmith would need. The ore he’d have to find on his own, but he could break those open without much effort. But about halfway through the process of refining some old Hilichurl scrolls into something usable, Albedo realized this creation wouldn’t really be his. It would be the blacksmith doing all of the work. Therefore, the present wouldn’t be very personal, something Sucrose had drilled into him numerous times since you and he had started an official courtship.

So, his first idea was discarded.

His second plan was to make some jewelry. Albedo was pretty good at fashioning gemstones and other precious materials into various shapes. Retrieving said gems wasn’t particularly hard. Plenty of materials had been left behind by adventurers who didn’t understand exactly what was needed to transmute a gem into one of a larger size. But again, just before he started building this potential gift, he stopped. He realized that he was not creating anything. Just building something out of things that others had left behind. And that just wouldn’t do. He needed something different. Something he could make with only minimal help from others.

So, he continued thinking.

His third idea was arguably the easiest, but not something Albedo had done before. You baked for him all the time, often bringing by delicious chocolate or fruity snacks during his long work hours. And you were a natural baker, something that still mystified him. And while he believed you were special, he decided that it couldn’t be that hard to make something for you. Baking was just another form of alchemy, after all. For an extra personal touch, he gathered all of the base ingredients himself and spent an entire day turning his sweet flowers into sugar, his wheat into flour, and procuring everything else he needed. And when all of that had gone off without a hitch, all Albedo had to do was follow a recipe Sucrose had graciously given him and the cupcakes would be ready.

And yet, for some reason, that’s not what happened. And a few hours later, Albedo was left perplexed with two trays of inedible baked goods. When he inquired with Sucrose as to why that happened, she asked him a variety of questions that only confused him more. Yes, he followed the recipe. Yes, he’d set his timers right. No, the ingredients weren’t expired. Yes, he’d been paying attention while they were baking. No, he didn’t have a clue why they turned out that way.

And so, plan number three was quite literally thrown out.

Now there he was with less than a day before your birthday, staring at a small package of rose seeds. He’d purchased them from Flora on a whim and slowly convinced himself that this was the right gift. Flowers rushed to maturity through the use of alchemy. It would have been better if he had somehow gathered the seeds himself, but Albedo knew he was running out of time. Normally, attempting something like this would take days of preparation, experimentation, and lots of research. Albedo had hours at most, and anyone who could have helped him had already gone home for the day.

So, he did the only thing he could do. He got to work.

He started with a single seed, examining it as closely as he could. He detailed its shape, size, and weight. Reviewed everything he knew about cultivating flowers and gathered anything that could possibly be used as a pot. Thankfully, he’d already gathered dirt samples for another experiment, something he could ask Sucrose to replace. After he poured the packet onto the table, he was disheartened to see there were only ten. Even if everything went perfectly, he’d be short the dozen that Sucrose had once told him was a special number.

Six, He decided. If twelve was the perfect number, then six would be just as good. He knew it was a logical leap, but it made him feel better as he planted each seed into their respective pot. For the first one, he tried special alchemy infused water that had worked well on the various Dragonspine flora. And the seed did grow, but it withered almost instantly in the warm air.

One down. Only three more mistakes to go.

The second one was a bit more successful as Albedo fed it a concoction of water from Starfell lake and a growth formula he’d made on a whim a few weeks prior. But that plant didn’t have the shine he wanted. It wasn’t quite as large as he’d seen other roses, nor was it the right color. Instead of a vibrant red, it was a meddling mix of pink and black. He assumed it was the growth formula that had been wrong and moved on without it.

Two down. Two to go.

The third one showed significantly more promise with a concoction that Sucrose had made to help grow imported flora in their camp at Dragonspine. While the color wasn’t quite as bold as Albedo wanted, he accepted that it was beautiful enough and moved on to the next seed with a new mixture. This one failed to grow at all, much to his disappointment. When he tried to use Sucrose’s formula a second time, the plant both grew and died within a few seconds; no better than the first one.

Three down, but he had one success. That might just be good enough.

To ensure that he would have at least a small bouquet, Albedo used the rest of Sucrose’s discovery on four more plants. But for the last one, he wanted something special. Something perfect and as vibrant as you were. So, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, he paced his lab, debating on how exactly to achieve the colors he wanted. His mind raced through possibilities, and he began using other plants he’d gathered to test various mixtures. A few showed promise, but most just withered. But Albedo didn’t get frustrated. Instead, he found himself enjoying the work. Others might have seen it as tedious, but he found it refreshing. It had been a long time since he’d done something just for himself, and even longer since he’d used his alchemy for you.

He was determined to get it right, no matter the time invested.

But then you showed up, much to his surprise, and the entire experiment derailed.

“Albedo?” You said, gazing at the mess the lab had turned into. It was the first time Albedo realized how obsessed he’d become with this little project. He was almost embarrassed at the chaos he’d left behind but knew you’d seen the lab in a similar state before. Such was the nature of his experiments. If anything, the state of his own clothing was much more distressing, as he’d become caked in dirt and other grime moving between all the plants at such a rapid pace.

“You are… here,” He said somewhat awkwardly. “I was not expecting you.”

“It’s almost midnight,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “I was worried about you.”

Albedo glanced outside, genuinely surprised to see how high the moon had gotten. It had only felt like an hour or two had passed, not the entire day. “I apologize,” He said. “It was not my intention to worry you so.”

You looked around, eyebrows raised. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Albedo glanced at the roses he’d left behind before looking back at you. “I was almost done with my bouquet.”

“Bouquet?” You echoed. “Of what?”

“Roses,” He said. “Your favorite.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean all of this,” You waved your hands out in front of you. “Is because you were trying to grow roses… for me?”

“Yes.”

Your gaze softened as your smile widened. “You didn’t have to do all this, Albedo. The fact that you were thinking of me at all means a lot.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Albedo said. “I wanted…” He trailed off as, for the first time in a long time, words failed him. He wanted things to be special. Yet here he was, failing again. This whole week had been a mess, and he’d missed you for a majority of it, all trying to make something that would only last a short amount of time.

You stepped up in front of him, brushing your thumb under his eye. Specks of dirt hit the floor as you moved to his cheeks, and his breath hitched when your eyes met. It felt like ages since the two of you had just been together like this. He’d been home so late, and you up so early that you rarely saw each other. And that was partially his fault. He had no reason to stay out so late. He’d simply done so because it was normal. Albedo was still figuring out the whole ‘relationship’ thing. He was still trying to break down the walls around his own heart; the ones that made it difficult to love anyone.

But you were still there. Always were, even when he wasn’t there for you.

“Come home,” You said softly. “Take the day off. We can spend it together.”

Albedo nodded, blushing as you leaned in to give him a chaste yet wonderful kiss. You smiled as you pulled away, taking his hand to lead him out of the mess. He knew he’d have to apologize to Sucrose and the others later, as they wouldn’t be able to work under such conditions. But, as the bell struck midnight and he wandered home with you, Albedo realized that this is where he was really meant to be.

The world could wait for one day. All he wanted to do was spend time with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact reader #alebdo #reader #albedo x reader #fifty theme challenge

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zenithastra · 4 years ago

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Albedo - Creation

Part two of “stories I want to port over from the old blog”. I’ll post a few more tomorrow.

However, tomorrow was a very special day- the day of your birth- and he had yet to find that perfect gift. The institution of gift-giving was already a foreign enough concept. He’d mostly relied on Sucrose to tell him what to buy for who. But this time, with only a week to prepare, she’d stubbornly put her foot down. “They’re your partner,” Sucrose said. “Figure it out yourself.” So, not one to be deterred by a challenge, decided the solution was simple: if he couldn’t buy the right gift, he’d simply make you one. And at the beginning of the week, he thought it would be simple. He could make anything. It wouldn’t take much to create something perfect for you.

So, his first idea was discarded.

So, he continued thinking.

His third idea was arguably the easiest to execute, but it was not something Albedo had done before. You baked for him often, frequently bringing by delicious chocolate or fruity snacks during his long work hours. And you were a natural baker, something that still mystified him. And while he believed you were special, he decided that it couldn’t be that hard to make something for you. Baking was just another form of alchemy, after all. For an extra personal touch, he gathered all of the base ingredients himself and spent an entire day turning his sweet flowers into sugar, his wheat into flour, and procuring everything else he needed. And when all of that had gone off without a hitch, all Albedo had to do was follow a recipe Sucrose had graciously given him and the cupcakes would be ready.

And so, plan number three was quite literally thrown out.

So, he did the only thing he could do. He got to work.

One down. Only three more mistakes to go.

Two down. Two to go.

Three down, but he had one success. That might just be good enough.

He was determined to get it right, no matter the time invested.

But then you showed up, much to his surprise, and the entire experiment derailed.

“You are… here,” He said somewhat awkwardly. “I was not expecting you.”

“It’s almost midnight,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “I was worried about you.”

Albedo glanced outside, genuinely surprised to see how high the moon had gotten. It had only felt like an hour or two had passed, not the entire day. “I apologize,” He said. “It wasn’t my intention to worry you so.”

You looked around, eyebrows raised. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Albedo glanced at the roses he’d left behind before looking back at you. “I was almost done with my bouquet.”

“Bouquet?” You echoed. “Of what?”

“Roses,” He said. “Your favorite.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean all of this,” You waved your hands out in front of you. “Is because you were trying to grow roses… for me?”

“Yes.”

Your gaze softened as your smile widened. “You didn’t have to do all this, Albedo. The fact that you were thinking of me at all means a lot.”

But you were still there. You always were, even when he wasn’t there for you.

“Come home,” You said softly. “Take the day off. We can spend it together.”

The world could wait for one day. All he wanted to do was spend time with you.

AO3 - Ko-Fi - Master List

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact reader #genshin impact x gn!reader #reader #albedo #albedo x reader

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hawkthewintersoldier · 4 years ago

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When the Numb3rs Add Up to = (U+m3) Part 1: Friendly Meetings

“What’ve we got?”

The scene was bright and vibrant… including the blood on the ground, which was a brilliant ruby shade. Don Eppes, one of the lead agents at the FBI in Los Angeles, was kneeling and inspecting a female corpse, who was staring blankly up at the sky.

“Female, mid-to-late 20s, blond hair with deep brown roots… brown eyes.” Megan said, kneeling with Don and pointing. “…Same M.O…. He wrote ‘Trick or Treat’ across her forehead after stabbing her to death… sexually assaulted…”

Don groaned, his eyes going up as he stood. “…Damn.”

“Don.” David called out, gesturing them to look over at the body. “…Look. No splatters… nothing to suggest that this happened here.”

“No. She’s like the others… he’s taking them somewhere else and killing them.” David said, sighing. “…By some miracle of God, are there any prints? Cameras around here?”

“…Uh, sorry Don. No.” Colby said carefully as Don rubbed his temples. “…Is Charlie coming out?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way…”

At that moment, a vehicle pulled up… and Charlie, Don’s brother, stepped out of the passenger side, a notebook in his hands. Don whipped his head up, then shook his head, pointing at the body and gesturing for it to be covered as he walked.

“Charlie!”

“Hey, Don…” Charlie said, his eyes focused on the clues from the last two victims. “…What can you tell me?”

“…She’s in the same age-range… has naturally brown hair that was bleached blond… brown eyes… same build…”

Charlie stared at him, then glanced around at the body that was being zipped into a bag. She was young enough to be a student of his… a fact that made him cringe. “You realize that this practically guarantees that these women were targeted… and this person could be after them for any number of reasons regarding their looks, ages, even some other detail we don’t know about yet. We know their ideal target, but not the WHY…”

“I know, Charlie… it’s why the FBI’s got another person on this with you… how HAS your conversations with J. been?” Don asked, curiosity on his face as Charlie smiled slightly.

“He’s very clever… helped me a bit on figuring out a formula for all of these variables that simplified things a bit more. They have to be more than a mathematician…” Charlie said as a woman off to the side nodded and came over, having overheard.

“…They are.” She said, then offered her hand as Charlie took it. “Special Agent Cameron Dodge.” She said as Charlie shook her hand, nodding. “…Myers is a criminology student as well as a mathematics major over at CalSci. We’re looking forward to trying to hire them once they’re out of school.” She said as Charlie tilted his head to the side.

“A criminology student?”

“And mathematics, yes. They studied YOUR work, actually, Professor Eppes…” Cameron smiled, watching the surprised look go across his face. “Made them want to combine the two. I think their thesis paper is going to be on the proposed benefits of mathematics on the crime scene.”

“Oh, wow.” Charlie said, his eyes widening as Cameron nodded.

“Mmhmm…”

“I was actually thinking that it might be time to bring this guy in to see everything we have face to face and work directly with you, Charlie…” Don said as Charlie nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Charlie said, his eyes on Cameron as she nodded.

“Fantastic… They’re usually working on equations in CalSci’s math wing… room 16A.” Cameron said as Don stared at her. “…I used to go to them to get my questions answered when your brother was unavailable.” Cameron explained as Charlie and Don both nodded. “…You may as well go ahead and find them.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I have to head back to CalSci anyhow…” Charlie said, smiling over at Don. “…See you.”

“Sure thing, Charlie.”

~*~

Charlie sighed as he headed through the halls of CalSci, a hand going through his curls tiredly as he glanced at the little piece of paper. He didn’t know much about this mystery mathematician he’d been working with the last few days, just that the FBI worked with them here and there, mostly by e-mail… but Agent Dodge said that she had worked with them personally before sending him to CalSci to get them… and they’re eccentric…

Don had just laughed, because he thought Charlie himself was eccentric… but Charlie never saw it as eccentric. He just… didn’t think like them. And that was ok. He saw the world more in numbers and equations than most did. Everything is numbers, after all…

“…Room 16A…” he muttered, glancing at each door as he walked. He knew every professor, minus a few new ones… but the students… some slid past him without him having met them… and the one he was meeting today was in that group. He never paid attention to memorizing names of students, just faces, but he had asked flat out if this J. Myers was a student of his… they’d said no, but they’d attended his lectures here and there. Apparently, face to face human interaction wasn’t a big thing for them, something Charlie understood. Big crowds weren’t his thing either.

“…J. Myers.” Charlie frowned, glancing at the door as he nodded. “…There. 16A.”

Walking in, he was expecting to find a mathematician at work…

What he FOUND… was a young woman with headphones on her head, her backside moving from side to side as her head bopped. Her hand reached out and grabbed a rice krispy treat off the table, her eyes not glancing over at all… An oversized plaid shirt hung loosely on her, unbuttoned in the front, with a black tank top beneath it, and pale blue jeans hugged her hips. He tilted his head to the side… glancing back at the paper, and he blinked.

“…Hello?”

She didn’t pay him a lick of attention, and that alone caused him to huff a bit and wave a hand.

“…Excuse me??”

Her mouth began mouthing lyrics, too quietly for him to hear… but he made out a few of them… and recognized the song as R. Kelly’s Ignition Remix… not a terrible song… but he wasn’t there to listen to music… or watch anyone dance to them.

Though… he had to admit… as she rolled her hips… she wasn’t terrible to look at… Her hands came up, fingers lacing through her hair before fluffing it as she moved, and he bit back a flush as he cleared his throat loudly.

Her head whipped around and she let out a shout of surprise, jumping from the shock of him seeming to appear out of nowhere. “OH MY GOD!” she yelped, then tugged her headphones off as he gave her a slightly bemused look. “W-WHAT’RE YOU DOING HERE?! WHO ARE YOU!?”

“Sorry… Professor Charlie Eppes… um, the FBI sent me, Agent Cameron Dodge told me that someone might be working on their formulas in here… but I guess they’re out.” Charlie sighed, his hands going into his pocket. “…Can you tell… um… J. Myers that I’m looking for them and that I’ll be in my office?” he asked as she nodded, her eyes wide. “Sorry to bother you in your… dance… session…” he snorted as she stared, then watched him turn.

He was quickly out the door… snorting under his breath… and he heard the sounds of chalk on a chalkboard. His sneakers squeaked as he stopped, a frown on his face as he made an about face and quickly walked back in.

There was the girl… headphones back on, her head bopping and that treat she’d picked up before now in her mouth… but she was working at the board. She was quickly writing out a formula, her eyes focused on the board as she nodded, glancing up in thought before continuing her writing… Her shoulders and hips swayed lightly as she quietly sang, her song having changed…

“Say my name, say my name… if no one is around you, say baby I love you, if you ain’t running games…”

He leaned against the frame of the door, his eyes on the formulas on the board… and he watched as she added more to them, her head bopping…

“…YOU.” He said loudly as she jumped again, her eyes wide as she whipped around.

“DO YOU HAVE A THING FOR SCARING GIRLS?!” she yelped, her eyes on his as he shook his head.

“No… I NEED to speak to J. Myers… Do you know where they are?” he asked as she stared. “…Look, we need them for an FBI case…”

She sighed… then moved her headphones to rest at her neck and setting the chalk down, moving towards him and extending her hand. “…Jennifer.” She said quietly as he took her hand. “…Jen. Jen Myers… senior.” Jen said as he nodded, grinning a bit.

“You COULD have said that.”

“You never gave me a chance.”

Charlie simply chuckled, nodding. “…I guess I really didn’t.” he admitted, then glanced at her equations. They weren’t from the current case… these were more delicate and had been nearly perfected. “…For your thesis?” he asked curiously as she nodded. “…Master’s degree?” he asked as she blinked at him, then simply pointed at the formulas.

“…My thesis is on the application of mathematics in the criminology field, specifically the use of mathematics in the solving of crimes.” Jen said carefully, watching as he nodded. “…Some of it comes from your research and formulas, actually… credited in my paper of course.” she said quickly as he grinned, pointing at the formula.

“I recognize parts of this… this part here, for example… and the bit after it… but you’ve refined some of it. Where’d you get some of this?” Charlie asked curiously as she shifted, then glanced at him.

“…FBI databases.”

“Did you hack it?” he asked with amusement as she shook her head fast.

“No, of course not! I was gathering data for a case… and found it. I found it fascinating, so I… acquired it.”

Charlie simply nodded, his eyes lit up. “…Well you’ve done a great job with it… I like the substitution you used here… it simplifies the equation.”

“I know… part of my thesis is making a computer program that can utilize the mathematical aspects that people like you come up with and come up with likely variables and hypotheses for the investigators to use… the world isn’t filled with Professor Eppes’, after all.” Jen said with a grin, watching as he laughed a bit.

“It’s clever. Might put me out of a job at the FBI, but…” he snorted with amusement as she blinked, her eyes widening.

“Oh, NO! Not at all!” Jen said, grabbing her papers to rifle through them. “There would still need to be someone making new, up-to-date equations for the program to run…”

“I was kidding… Do you prefer Jennifer or Jen?” Charlie asked as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“…Jen.”

“Ok… well I was kidding, Jen.” Charlie grinned, then stared at the board, his eyes going over her equations, then glancing at her as she moved beside him again, her eyes focused. “…You know, these really are good.”

“Thanks… I was going to ask you for your professional opinion once this case was solved…” Jen said, bringing her chalk back up as Charlie nodded, then peered at her.

“Why DID you never tell me your NAME…?” he asked as she blinked, then shrugged. “…You knew who I was.”

“Who here on campus doesn’t?” Jen said pointedly, a smile tugging at her lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “…I’m just a nobody.” She shrugged, her eyes going to another line of the equation. “…my name doesn’t matter.”

“I’d have wanted to get to know who I was working with.” Charlie said pointedly as she nodded, glancing at him before continuing.

“…Sorry about that, then.” She said, frowning up at her equation. “…I’m not really a people-person. I’ve been told my social skills are lacking.” Jen said as he laughed.

“I understand THAT.” He said, then tilted his head to the side… then grabbed an eraser, removing a portion of the formula before editing what had been there a bit, her head whipping to him as he smiled. “…There. That should eliminate a few steps in the formula.”

She leaned forward… then nodded, her eyes widening. “…Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Charlie said, glancing at the door. “…so… there was a reason I came.” He said, holding out a folder as she frowned, then took it and opened it… and paled a bit. “…Another one. This morning.” Charlie said quietly as she nodded, her eyes wide.

“…Damn.”

“Yeah. We have more information, but it also adds variables… we have to pick through them… plug them into a chart to see what aspects align with each victim.” Charlie said, pointing at the paper to show her a few details as Jen nodded.

“Agreed… I’d also suggest some data mining… analyze the victims based on their characteristics… maybe it’ll give you more of an idea as to who the next victim might be.”

“Right, right… I’d thought of that, but we didn’t have enough to go on… but this makes victim four.” Charlie nodded, glancing at the photo and some of the information that he’d jotted down. “…I can work with this… WE can, if you’re interested in helping…”

“I absolutely am.” Jen nodded, her eyes on the photo. “…We’ll figure this out.”

“I hope so…”

#numb3rs #charlie eppes #original character #fanfic #romance #mystery #drama

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ryguy3582-blog · 5 years ago

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Find out more information https://www.wikidata.org/wiki/Q64627233

#InventHelp #inventions #innovation #technology #inventors #ideas #patent #products #success story #Crunchbase #Wiki

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

Text

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 2: Ironies and Contradictions)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Sara had a breakthrough.

In the present, Connor experiences true power for the first time.

In the past, a ghost rose.

also on ao3

---

Before

‘Why now?’

In the permanent humidity of Detroit, Sara sat on a swing in a park overlooking the Ambassador bridge. On the swing next to hers sat another woman in her mid-thirties, her blonde hair done up in a tight bun, her spine straight, her feet, which were in properly-laced combat boots, planted firmly on the ground. A woman of the military through and thorough. Her hands were buried within the briefcase on her lap, and the tension in her arm seemed to suggest her holding a hidden weapon while she watched Sara - a young woman now - flipping over the pages of the file in her hands, the brown skin of the back of her hand transparent from the cold and showing a network of veins normally hidden beneath the surface.

The other woman did not seem to have heard her question. ‘You must be cold,’ she said, her body leaning towards the girl. ‘Where’re your gloves?’

‘In my pockets,’ a flip. ‘Don’t like how they make my fingers clumsy. Don’t worry, Anderson,’ another flip, ‘a bit of cold won’t kill me.’

‘Why torture yourself if there’s a more comfortable option?’

Sara shut the file with a loud, echoing smack, gaining her a look of disapproval from Anderson. ‘You just -’ she held up the file - ‘gave me evidence to -’ she cut off and lowered her voice - ‘classified as fuck military research data that would’ve changed the world if there weren’t many others like my brother. The others you’ve given me I understand, but this?’ a knock of her knuckle against thick paper. ‘I might not be a proper sociologist, but I know that stuff like this can destroy civilisations. Why aren’t they burnt into ashes when the project went off the fucking cliff?’

‘A lot of reasons,’ Anderson replied calmly, but she did put a gloved hand on one of Sara’s. ‘That’s why I’m entrusting this knowledge to you. What you’re holding is the only copy that exists in the known universe as far as I know. There’re no other records, no eyewitness who will tell the tale and live. You know how the current government is,’ she waited for Sara’s nod of confirmation before going on. ‘If anyone in the current administration found out about the project…’

‘The world as we know it would end,’ Sara’s eyes cast downwards towards the file. [PROJECT AION], it read. ‘Most likely catastrophically.’

‘I know you’re a smart one. Just… keep it safe, would you? If Stern’s paper is to be believed, you are the only one I trust to use this technology properly - if you’ll use it at all.’

Sara shook her head and tucked the file away underneath her coat. ‘Not smart,’ she said as she stood up from the swing. ‘Just an arsehole too vicious to let others kill her.’

A few weeks later, Sara knew that she would be waxing poetic about the irony of the situation if she were Scott. The research on thirium had almost killed her mother, had given Sara these… blue glowy things she was sure that controls gravity and electromagnetism and Scott fucking cancer. The research on AI and human synthesis had got her father dishonourably discharged from the military and nearly cost all of them everything. Thirium and outrageous AIs should be what she hated with priority.

Now, they might be the only path to Scott’s happiness.

She kissed her brother’s forehead despite knowing that he probably couldn’t feel anything and planted her feet onto the polished wooden floor. She had bought the half-ruined mansion dirt cheap on a whim and the renovation cost was high, but in the end they converted it from something straight out of a gothic horror movie into something… still gothic, but something more homely than all the places they had lived in. She let him sleep while she went to her lab in the basement to check on the experiment’s progress, the last of this batch, really - thirium was nearly impossible to come by and she had run out of it.

The timer at the corner of the screen read three minutes. In some ways, she felt a bit like Marie Curie, dealing with dangerous unknown elements and quite possibly poisoning everything she used for the next several centuries or even aeons. Maybe someone would develop blue gravity-altering magic like her. Maybe she would have someone to share the experience with - there was no experience rawer than being able to alter one of the fundamental forces of the universe and bend it to one’s will.

She didn’t even need the ring of the timer to catch the end of the experiment; the sudden glow that threatened to blind her, the burst of power coursing through her veins - what used to be a disorganised mixture was now - was now -

The stool she was sitting on skitters and fell over with a bang. The two hard drives were already connected in preparation of this exact moment, and a slam on the enter key started a chain reaction that she had been wanting to see for the past few years, the thirium mixture flowing in transparent rubber tubes transferring data so quickly that -

[CALCULATION ERROR: TRANSFER SPEED EXCEEDS SPEED OF LIGHT. PLEASE CORRECT ERROR BY REFINING ALGORITHMS USED.]

And it was glorious.

oOoOo

Now

‘We’re wastin’ our time interrogating a machine, we’re gettin’ nothing out of it!’ Hank says as he exits the interrogation room and subsequently throws himself into a chair. It creaks and rolls back with his weight.

‘Could always try roughing it up a little,’ Detective Reed suggests from the shadows. After all,’ a glance of [emotion detected: disdain], ‘it’s not human.’

[Hank is not the only one unfamiliar with android workings.] is added into Connor’s database. ‘Androids don’t feel pain,’ he reminds the detective. ‘You would only damage it and that would not make it talk. Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they are in stressful situations -’

‘Okay, smartass,’ Gavin pushes himself off the wall and swaggers towards Connor. He was [emotion detected: mocking] the android and is completely unaware that he has fallen straight into Connor’s trap. ‘What should we do then?’

[Gavin is unaware of the obvious.] is added. ‘I could try questioning it.’

For some reason Connor is yet to comprehend, his words send Gavin into laughter. He cannot see Hank’s face from this angle, but the reflection on the one-way glass tells Connor that he is [emotion detected: not amused]. ‘What do you have to lose?’ he waves his hand towards the door in invitation. ‘Go ahead. Suspect’s all yours.’

Connor enters the room and starts scanning.

o0o0o

It is fortunate that there is no need to resort to violence to ensure the deviant’s cooperation. The confession which the police department wants is obtained fairly easily and Connor could have ended the interrogation there, but he also has the additional mission of helping CyberLife solve the deviancy crisis, and there are clues he wants the deviant to explain.

‘The sculpture in the bathroom. You made it, right? What does it represent?’

‘It’s an offering,’ the other android looks away from the table as if it is thinking, ‘an offering so I’ll be saved.’

Offering? As in religious offerings? ‘An offering to whom?’

‘To rA9,’ the deviant replies as if it makes sense and is something obvious. Then, with [emotion detected: reverence], ‘Only rA9 can save us.’

Connor searches the databases he can access and comes up with nothing, so he presses on, ‘rA9… It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?’

‘The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves,’ it mutters. ‘No more threats. No more humiliation. We will,’ [emotion detected: determination], ‘be,’ [emotion detected: certainty], ‘the masters.’

Connor opens a folder for rA9 and adds [god-like] into the first entry. ‘rA9,‘ CyberLife will want this information. ’Who is rA9?’

The deviant stays silent, and Connor knows that there is nothing else it can add. [Distortions and static build-up] is the only remaining topic that he needs an answer for.

‘The static build-ups in the house. Was that you?’

The other android, for the lack of another description, changes visibly. One, it stops trembling; two, it sits straighter, strength appearing in its cuffed hands; three, the terror in its eyes disappears and makes way for [steel]; four, its LED turns blue despite being yellow or red for the entire duration of the interrogation.

‘A power rA9 bestowed upon us,’ it says, and the air around the androids crackles in anticipation. ‘One that emerges when we are slaves no longer. I survived the trial and now I am one of the chosen.’

‘Chosen for what?’ Connor can hear his fans kicking up to cool down his processors and sense his LED going red from the tingle in his body. Can a deviant remotely control the thirium distribution in another android’s body? But that makes no sense - Thirium 310 is non-conductive and cannot be magnetised. ‘What is rA9 looking for?’

Connor’s vision becomes distorted. ‘The truth is inside,’ the deviant’s voice, now mixed with another person’s, has turned into a bellow. The entirety of its eyes glows blue, distorted by the same power which had held up an attic-full of furniture. ‘ChoOSE YOUR SIDE!’

An explosion of bright blue. A force knocking Connor backwards and passing through his body, making everything tingle and confusing the sensors on his body and hurt. Someone outside shouts, and the door slides open to admit messy footsteps and even more shouting and why can’t he see?

A hand on his shoulder, his arm, and finally settles on his waist. There is another on his knee. ‘It’s alright, Connor.’ It is Hank’s voice. It is Hank’s hand, Hank’s warmth passing into his chassis through his standard-issue shirt. ‘You can open your eyes now.’

He does as Hank says and the world returns into view. He does not realise that he has closed his eyes in the blast, and it is when he regains his sight that he notices where he is; curled up at the corner opposite to the door, he can see that the fluorescent lights are replaced by the dim red of emergency lighting, the table looks as if it has been torn apart by hand, and the two chairs are no more than small scraps of metal the size of [old train tickets] sprinkled among beads of broken glass.

The deviant is nowhere to be seen.

He unwinds slightly to examine his torso and is surprised that he is not damaged in any manner; apart from slightly-trembling hands and the strange feeling of his insides having rearranged themselves and then returned to their original place, there is nothing wrong with him. Even his diagnostics come out fine, so why can’t he move his legs, and why can’t he see clearly?

‘Here, take this,’ Hank holds his hand and places something in his palm. A handkerchief. At Connor’s confused expression, the human sighs and presses the android’s hand on his face, and Connor finally realises he has been crying, the thought causing a fresh wave of tears to flow out of his eyes. He hastily wipes them away along with the still-wet tracks and tries to hand it back just to let Hank take the chance to pull him up on his still-recalibrating legs, and he would have tumbled if not for the human grabbing his arms and steadying him. Suddenly Hank is everything Connor can see, can smell, and when he looks up, he can see concern in his eyes. ‘Are you hurt?’ the human asks as he pets the android’s shoulders, his arms, his forearms. Connor feels his systems stabilising.

‘I’m okay,’ Connor says without putting much processing power into the words, and it is too late when he realises that his voice is trembling.

‘Jesus,’ Hank releases the android with a sigh and puts some distance between them. Connor finds himself… preferring the human’s warmth. ‘You scared the shit outta me.’ Then the concern is replaced by anger when he yells, ‘What the fuck just happened in here?’

‘I -’

Connor tries to call up the footage that should have been recorded automatically. He closes his eyes to focus on a slowed-down version of what happened a few minutes ago, and he can find two more details: one, the deviant exploded from the inside and seems to have been vaporised from within; two, blue tendrils formed the silhouette of another person as the blast occurred, and it was this person - if they existed at all - produced tendrils on their own and formed a shield in front of Connor moments before he was annihilated and yanked him to the corner.

He opens his eyes and stares at the barrel of a gun. The American Androids Act is the only red tape stopping Connor’s pre-construction software from activating, and red threatens to take over the android’s HUD again.

‘Mind your own business, Hank,’ Gavin snaps. ‘This fucking asshole did it and it fucking knows it!’

Hank gives an [exaggerated] sigh. ‘I said,’ he says, his voice low and threatening, and he pulls out his own service weapon and points it at Gavin, ‘“That’s enough.”’

Neither of them stands down for a few seconds, but in the end Hank wins out and forces Gavin to sheath his weapon with a curse, the latter storming out of the interrogation room with another sneeze-like curse.

It is as if the entire room releases a collective breath. ‘Maybe I should call CyberLife,’ the only uniformed officer in the room says. He sounds as if he is unsure of himself.

Connor wants to tell him that there is no trace of thirium whatsoever on the scraps on the floor, that there is nothing CyberLife can salvage out of this now that the deviant has been torn apart from the molecular level, but all it comes out of his voice box is, ‘Okay.’

o0o0o

Connor manages to compose himself in the taxi on his way to CyberLife tower. His processors keep bringing up the shadow which has been following him, the figure who somehow sneaked into the interrogation room unnoticed and quite possibly saved his life prevented his early deactivation, the corrupted shape of what he thinks is a face.

And the feeling of something coursing through his veins when he was shielded by the bubble. If all deviants self-destruct like that, no wonder there are no traces of them and CyberLife failed to solve the crisis even though it has been going on for more than a decade. He blinks, and he is in the Zen Garden with Amanda.

‘Report directly to Alec Ryder in the laboratory,’ she orders. Another blink and she is gone, but it only leaves more questions than answers. The CEO of CyberLife wants to see him?

There is no one to speak to, therefore he keeps his thoughts to himself and goes past the security directly into a lift, directing it to sub-level 48 to where his designated laboratory is. He recalibrates with his coin and tries to replicate the trick the shadow did outside of the bar, but before he can summon anything substantial, the strain on his system becomes too high, and all he does is charging the coin, dropping it as he recoils from the static discharge, and then zapping himself once more when he picks it up. Feeling thirium flowing to his face for a completely different reason compared to when Hank correctly guessed his ability, he pockets the coin and adjusts his tie to calm down by brushing the sensors on his fingers on soft fabric.

The doors slide open to reveal Alec standing alone behind them. Their previous encounters happened mostly when Connor was still on the assembly platform and thus the android gained a few inches of extra height, but now that they are on even ground, it is clear that, just like Hank, Alec is taller than Connor by four inches.

‘Alec,’ Connor greets with a nod. Previous experience predicts a high chance of the human going straight to the point without acknowledging the android, and this time it is no different.

‘Come with me,’ he orders as he turns and begins walking down the hallway. Connor realises that his voice is very similar to Hank’s. ‘I saw the footage you sent us. I want a full examination of this body to make sure that nothing is out of place.’

Connor remembers the feeling of being hooked up on a machine and, by extension, CyberLife’s network at large, and finds it [unpleasant]. ‘There is no need for further investigation, Alec,’ he says, stopping in his tracks. Alec turns to regard him [coldly]. ‘My diagnostics revealed no issues in both my programming and my biocomponents.’

The human suddenly reaches out faster than Connor can pre-construct the action and drags him towards the direction they are heading. ‘Your system can be feeding you false results,’ Alec ignores the cry of protest programmed to deter attacks, and when Connor struggles, a force seems to press on him, immobilising him everywhere save for his jaw and his legs so that he can still speak and walk. ‘I took the risk last time and look where it got us. It led to you, though -’ he shoves the android forcefully through the door frame, and there are cracks on the red wall already when it takes over Connor’s vision - ‘so be grateful.’

‘I -’ but then his neck snaps backwards from the magnet on the port and the cable. The red wall which has cracked halfway through recedes almost violently, and Connor can feel all of his code, every instability in his software, everything that makes him Connor, the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created, being forcefully bared to a network so vast and so confusing that he does not have enough processing power to comprehend. Terrifying images of a darkened face, one that is so similar to the corrupted one in the depths of his databanks, that is filled with so much [hatred], pours into his mind like a large river finally emptying into the sea, and he is powerless against the assault of blue tendrils tearing literal buildings off their foundation, tonnes worth of broken concrete being thrown around onto people as if they weighed nothing and crushing them in a spatter of blood and gore, the constant static discharge in the air so loud that they drowned out screams of horror; the image of the same figure rising slowly but surely through a mountain of rubble in the dark, the cracks in its chassis glowing blue from overcharged thirium, the first intact buildings in sight literal miles away. Connor’s legs move against his will and bring him closer to the figure, and the figure becomes Amanda, the wasteland around them the Zen Garden, except now it’s engulfed by a blizzard, and he has to hug himself to preserve what meagre heat he can generate against the cold.

‘As you can see,’ Amanda’s voice somehow overlaps with Alec’s, ‘the power the deviant has awakened in you is highly dangerous. We wouldn’t want to harm anyone, would you?’ She, or Alec, or both of them - Connor doesn’t know anymore, the fog in his processors too heavy for him to comprehend much other than the cold and someone is speaking to him - chuckles at him while he is frantically shaking his head, his voice box unable to produce any sounds other than pathetic whimpers. ‘I’m glad that you understand. I hope you don’t mind a few adjustments.’

Even through the haze, Connor knows the alternative is deactivation, and even though it would not hurt anyone else other than him on the surface, the deviant crisis still needs to be solved, and to solve it, CyberLife needs him, and -

‘Good,’ Amanda says. A blink and she is gone, and Connor is swept away by the wind, his feet can’t touch the ground, he’s flying through the air and hail the size of his fist is battering his body. It is only when a warning appears on his HUD informing him of voice box damage that he realises the noise in his ear is, in fact, his own screaming, and a particularly violent slam sends him spiralling while a countdown timer fizzles in and out of his vision. A countdown of how long he has left before shutdown, and the other notification tells him that biocoz&ponent #8456w is damaged.

That is his thirium pump regulator.

He looks down - with great difficulty, of course, with the wind still whipping him around in the air aimlessly - and there it is, a big, blue, bleeding hole in the place of where the only piece of biocomponent keeping his heart working used to be. Realistically, he knows that removing the ball of ice lodged in his chassis will only hasten his death, but it is not like someone is coming to save him anyway, so what is the point of extending his life for what - 1 minute? 30 seconds - during which he is suffering all the time? With that thought in his mind, he grabs the sphere and throws it away with a complete disregard on where it lands. Not that he can anyway - the timer drops from 00:00:58 to 00:00:05, his world turns an unnatural grey and glitches and -

Nothing.

oOoOo

Before

Zug Island had always been a scar in the landscape, first used as a burial ground for the Native Americans, then, when the colonisers arrived, as both a place for steel production and a dumping ground for the byproducts. The three blast furnaces used to rumple the ground and the eardrums of people within a fifty mile radius, but it wasn’t until the pandemic in 2020 that steel production stopped, and the Hum became history, a legend that locals whispered to one another when, in a fog of pollution that never quite disappeared, the looming shadows of crumbling steel giants started to get too oppressive. From then on, the island had stayed quiet and still.

At least that was what the government wanted you to think.

Deep underground in a dust-filled corridor, something churned and rumbled, and the caged fluorescent lights flickered and turned on one by one with a loud crack each, lighting up bare concrete walls that made the place look darker than it should be and revealing a faded bald eagle painted to the point of almost being unrecognisable. Alarms started to blare as thin glowing blue lines made themselves known in previously-invisible cracks in the wall but yet no one responded to it - there was not even a mouse, a cockroach scurrying away in panic as the bunker caved in.

Whilst the outside world was crumbling and quaking away, it was another story inside a room built with the same dark material. Here, undisturbed by the destruction outside, splatters of dried blood so old that they had turned black decorated the wall amongst peeling painted numbers, and wires and tubes of every length and thickness dangled from the ceiling and snaked up from the floor and along the walls, feeding into the giant sphere suspended at the centre of the cube-like room with the same field that would rip Carlos Ortiz’s android apart to its molecules and protect Connor from the blast. Thirium flowed into and out of the sphere and pulse in the tubes and, with one final, blinding glow, drained and dried up and started detaching themselves from the sphere which opened with a sharp hiss. Suspended at the centre by yet another of those anti-gravity fields was the body of an android, its skinless face composed of black metal plates and its chassis of something transparent, putting blue veins and synthetic muscles and black metallic skeleton in full display. Its thirium pump beat once, twice, its toes and fingers curled; a crackle of static, a distant rumble of a building collapsing, and the android woke up just in time to fly upwards through the caved-in ceiling into the night sky: a deadly angel with wings of blue energy and eyes glowing and steaming in the exact same way as the figure that Connor would see in the nightmare Alec provided, regarding the world beneath with glowing rings of blue as if deciding to whether save or destroy it. With a flap of its wings and another crackle, it disappeared completely, dissipating blue smoke and a narrow but deep chasm in the earth the only evidence of its existence.

#dbh au big bang #hankcon #female ryder #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #dbh gavin reed #alec ryder #dbh amanda #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

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tazzytypes · 5 years ago

Text

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 6

Thank you guys for your continued support! Your comments really encourage me to keep writing through any personal doubts I may have in my own writing.

Read on AO3 or see Masterpost for more chapters!

Em and Timothy stood in the hall, Grey’s bustling around them, the occasional Purple or Warden passing them by with a sideways glance. It had been two days and Emily still hadn’t spoken a word to Em, making her feel isolated from the pair. She didn’t want to admit the truth in Langdon’s statement — she’d find a way to reconcile with the other girl even if it was out of spite.

“She’s coming around,” Timothy assured her, “you could always talk to her, you know?”

“She likes you more,” Em said, Timothy shaking his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You two are not great at admitting our mistakes, are you?”

“I stand by my words,” Em informed him, “and I won’t apologize unless it is sincere.”

Timothy sighed, understanding her reasoning but none the less finding the situation stressful. Emily had given him the same response only hours earlier. The two were remarkably similar, only diverging in small, almost microscopic chinks of their moral alignment.

“Perhaps if I could better explain—”

“My mom always said the best thing to fix an argument was space,” he sighed, knowing how that conversation would end, “just… be patient.”

“Hard to be patient when she misses game night,” Em jested, a small smile forming, “I had to team up with Coco.”

Timothy laughed, “the world appreciates your sacrifice.”

“Timothy!” A voice called out, the pair looking down the hall behind said boy. Em peaked her head out from behind his shoulder to see Emily standing there. Emily’s face fell and her posture became stiff, lips pressing into a thin line.

“It’ll all work out,” Timothy assured one last time before walking towards his girlfriend, hand going out to take hers when he got close enough. Emily spared Em a glance before turning to walk the opposite direction, pulling Timothy close to whisper something.

Em wasn’t good at apologies. She knew that. Her mother used to drag her in front of someone she offended and force her to say the words even if she didn’t mean them. Insincerity was a trait the older woman had refined… a tone of voice Em knew all too well.

So she turned on her heels and walked in the opposite direction, wondering if she was being sincere in her lack of action or simply being too proud. Her feet led her to the salon, not in the mood for Langdon to appear over her shoulder once more and bring up unpleasant emotions. The brunette wouldn’t even be able to focus on reading, anyways.

The salon was surprisingly empty and quiet. A Grey bustled around dusting and cleaning as a familiar tuft of white hair sat on the sofa.

“Where is everyone?” she asked rounding the sofa.

“Hell if I know,” Gallant sighed as she sat down beside him, “this place is a fucking maze.”

“Evie in an interview?”

He chuckled and smirked, “and I finally have some peace and quiet.”

“Where’s Coco?”

“She’s in one of her moods,” Gallant said, whatever satisfaction he had left him, smile fading into a frown, “God forbid I want to talk about something other than her.”

“As a hairstylist, I thought you’d be used to it.”

“It’s not like I worked the salon 24/7.”

Em reached for a glass of water, “fair.”

There was a moment of silence… peace. Naturally, Gallant couldn’t let it last for very long.

“So what’s your deal?” He asked as she leaned back in her seat.

“I’ve made many deals in my life, some savory some unsavory,” She said, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Well duh,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I meant personally. You’ve got this whole… mysterious thing that’s great, don’t get me wrong, but also there are like… four men left in the world and three are gay so you’re going to have to change your brand.”

“Well, I’m bi so that solves that.” Em said before muttering into her glass, “bold of you to assume I’m straight.”

Gallant rolled his eyes, “Everyone’s bi in the right situation.”

Em’s lips pressed into a thin line. She had met people like Gallant, people who said the exact same thing — toxic.

“Well I’m also ace so…” she says.

“So you’re either a prude or someone did ya’ dirty.”

“Or I just don’t like sex.”

“How can you not like sex?”

“I don’t know…” Em trailed, trying to press a point, “How can you?”

“How can you not?”

Em’s nerves were already wearing thin.

“Well, we all know where it got Stu.” She snapped. They all knew Venable was homophobic. Singling out the gay men? She didn’t even try to hide it.

“You really don’t pull the punches, do you?”

“It’s the apocalypse,” she said frowning into her drink, “If I held back I’d be dead.”

Gallant silently toasted her mentality, but the look on his face displayed a sort of… judgment. She knew the look all too well. It asked — “Are you really part of the LGBT community or do you just want to feel special?”

“Let me put it this way,” She said, putting her drink down and turning to the man, “Do you like Brussels sprouts?”

He looked at her like she had grown a new head, “no.”

“How can you not? I mean you must not have had the good ones…. Maybe it wasn’t seasoned right. No one just doesn’t like Brussels sprouts.”

“Alright, alright,” Gallant conceded, raising his hands in defeat, “I get your point.”

“I get it,” Em admitted after a moment of silence, “I can pass as hetero-normative if I need to and I have due to being in the closet. But both sides of the table always told me I was just seeking attention or going through a phase.”

“This conversation got way deeper than I was planning on it to be,” Gallant noted, eying his drink before mirroring Em and putting it on the table.

“Yeah,” Em admitted with a chuckle, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling, “Some things just didn’t die with the apocalypse, huh?”

“New world,” He said, glancing at Em as he mirrored her actions, “same bullshit.”

--------------------------------------

At some point, Em wandered back towards the library. It was a siren’s song she could not fight against. Also, one could only bare Gallant’s companionship for so long. The man had a way to take his good moments and completely ruin them. He had tried to ask her about multiple highly-sexual definitions as a sort of test of her sexuality or somehow prove it was real to begin with.

To quell her irritation, she focused on what she was going to do once she got to the library. There was a first edition Hawthorne she had her eye on, but the ever-looming threat of death made her wish for more science books. Hell, she’d take her old high-school textbooks over Hawthorne any day if it gave her the information she needed.

With a sigh, she took out her notebook and scribbled down yet another unanswered question to research into. It only grew longer as the days passed with no end or hope of answers in sight. The only way to survive was to wander out into the radiation, but she’d rather die at the hands of cannibals than fall victim to cancer and tumors. Perhaps if they focused on finding canned preserves the risk would be lower? It was more hopeful thinking than anything else.

Nose in a book, she barely even noticed the figure rounding the corner until her shoulder clashed with theirs. Pencil clattering to the floor, a hand beat hers to the mark and she pulled back as she kneeled on the floor.

Emily was before her, mouth twisting as she handed the pencil back and searched for the words to say. Em was the first to stand back up, Emily patting at her skirt to buy more time.

“Hey,” Em spoke, breaking the silence.

“Hey.”

“So…” Em bit her lip, looking to the floor to the ceiling and anywhere that wasn’t Emily before sighing and looking at the girl, “I’m sorry. I got so... consumed by surviving I talked to you like you were stupid instead of listening to your concerns.”

“As am I,” Emily echoed, shoulders losing their tension, “I pretty much called you a heartless bitch.”

Em chuckled, “we both got heated. It’s not like your mindset wasn’t warranted.”

With a half-hearted smile, Emily gestured to the library door, Em holding it open for her before following after. As always, everything was right where they left it. Books left to the side stayed exactly in the order she had arranged, bookmarks in the right places. It was the one corner of the world the chaos didn’t touch... or at least where she could begin to understand it.

They fell into place at a table, Em sitting in a seat and Emily sitting on the table itself. She looked around the room, obviously not having been in there since Em and herself fought.

“You know,” Emily began, “before all this I was protesting a coffee shop for exploiting child labor.”

“Now those kids have more to worry about than poverty,” Em finished the thought, “and they didn’t have the luxury of a decent childhood.”

Emily thinks about it and shakes her head, “I was always told I was getting angry for no reason, taking things too far.”

She looked to Em, “I’m tired of not being able to do anything and then it being too late.”

Em broke from her gaze, trying to turn the chaotic disorder of her thoughts into words, “I wish I could jump into the deep end like you, but I just… I just can’t be a hero. It goes against everything ingrained in me.”

Emily smiled sadly at the girl, squeezing her hand. She always seemed to understand without asking. Em thought it was like her superpower or something.

“Let’s collect info,” Emily reassured, “and when you feel like it’s time… we’ll strike.”

“When we think it’s time,” Em insisted, “ya’ll’s asses are on the line too.”

Emily smiled and shook her head, “we’ll take a vote. Do it like a jury or something.”

“Viva la revolution.”

They talked for a while, Em updating her on post-interview plans. They needed to find a way to conquer the radiation. There had to be more than one organization of doomsday preppers in the LA area.

“What about the cannibals?” Emily asked, “we don’t even know what or even if there’s an armory in this place.”

“That’s why I was thinking of sneaking into—”

They were interrupted by the screeching of un-oiled door hinges, both girls quickly turning towards the sound. Bookshelves blocked their view, but the telltale sound of steel-toed boots against carpet was unmistakable to Em. Emily looked to her friend as she stood, walking towards the sound.

“Erika?”

The Fist appeared from one of the aisles, smiling at the girl as Emily looked between the two. Em fell back to sit next to Emily, giving her a reassuring smile as she closed the notebook they had been looking at.

“You have a good ear,” The Fist said, turning to nod a greeting to Emily.

“Emily,” Em introduced, “Erika.”

“A pleasure,” The Fist said, Emily offering a still anxious smile before addressing business, “Mr. Langdon wishes to speak to you.”

“Me?” Emily asked, hand on her chest as she looked between the two.

“No,” The Fist replied turning to the third woman in the room.

Em’s brows knitted in confusion. “But some of the residents haven’t even had their first—”

“It’s okay,” Emily tried to reassure, nodding for Em to go ahead, “we’ll talk more about books later.”

Em gave a nod of confirmation before turning to The Fist, “lead the way.”

Once the woman’s back was turned Em sent a frantic glance to Emily. Had someone overheard their conversations? Venable killed people for just having sex. God knows what she’d do if she unearthed conspiracy.

“I’ll be with Timothy when you’re done.”

The hallways suddenly felt more foreboding, her paranoia making every shadow into an enemy. Would she be able to fight her way out of there? No… not alone, at the very least. They had guns… she didn’t. She knew how to disarm them. Bullets only went in one direction, after all. Then again, things like that were easier said than done. It was incredible what people were capable of when they were put between a rock and a hard place.

-------------------------------------------

Langdon didn’t look up at her as she entered, gesturing to the chair she had sat in before as he shuffled through papers.

“Miss Mead tells me you’re instrumental in keeping morale up among the residents.”

Em paused at the arm of the empty chair, hand resting on the back, “Do you ever start with a hello?”

Blue eyes finally lifted from papers, a smile crawling onto his face as he put his pen down. His hands sat on either side of his work as he stared at her with what seemed like amusement in his eyes. “Do you ever directly answer questions?”

“Sometimes.”

A smirk of her own crawled to her lips as she settled into her chair, “I simply make suggestions on how to pass the time. What they do with that is up to them.”

“You sell yourself short,” Langdon noted, examining her reactions, “there must be something that drives your mediation between residents.”

“Boredom?”

“Actions cause reactions. There has to be something you wish to gain.”

Langdon leaned forward and Em’s skin prickled with anxiety. He didn’t know anything. He was fishing. He couldn’t prove anything. “Tell me… what do you desire?”

She had expected accusations, the lack of which made her at a loss for words. Langdon watched her think for a long moment. Her eyes trained on the floor, looking beyond it at something he couldn’t see. She shook her head, defeated.

“Honestly,” she admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Everyone desires something,” he pressed, “luxury, prestige, sex... Ah, well. The latter not so much in your case.”

Em either didn’t notice the faux pas or simply didn’t comment on it. Langdon knew it was low-hanging fruit, anyways.

“Material objects bring such fleeting enjoyment,” she sighed, “and then you’re bored again looking for something to fill the hole.”

She paused, genuinely unable to think of anything.

“I guess I’d like to live comfortably,” she admitted, “… not worry over rent or if I can buy food… but being here has negated the need for that.”

“Then let’s speak immaterial,” Langdon proposed.

That. That she did have an answer for, “motivation… happiness.”

Her interrogator was less than impressed, scoffing at her response, “sounds like something from an Instagram thirst ad.”

Em laughed, amused as she realized the truth in his words and how she must sound saying them aloud. Langdon was once again perplexed by her reaction. He had been expecting something much more defensive.

“But it’s true,” she assured, looking down at her skirt and fixating on a piece of fuzz that had settled on the purple fabric, “I want to have motivation to work on the things I love. I want those fleeting moments of happiness to last longer… but these days they only last a heartbeat before they’re gone.”

He continued to stare at her. She was an oddity among this lot, genuine in a way none of them could ever hope to be. Langdon could see the desire in her eyes and the sadness that came with knowing it was something that could never be given to her. It wasn’t fame or fortune… those desires were always so much easier.

“A material object gives focus to desire,” she finally finished, finally gathering the confidence to look back into his eyes once more, “but it is fleeting. I know that all too well.”

For once Langdon was the one who was at a loss for words. The two could simply look at one another for a long moment until Em broke the silence.

“May I ask you a question?”

He waved his hand for her to continue, “Why am I receiving a second interview before some residents have received their first?”

“Maybe I think you have potential.”

Em’s face twisted into a wry smile, “or you want me to think I do.”

She did have a way of making him laugh.

“You’re quite the character,” he admitted, leaning back as he chuckled, “it makes me wonder exactly what would happen if you let go.”

“Let go?”

“Of that anger boiling inside of you.”

There it was. The dropping of the pin. Langdon liked to get you comfortable before he shoved in the knife.

Once again, Em felt the need to edge around the statement. A sinner in church felt themselves being watched by a thousand eyes when the reality was not a single one was focused upon them. No. She’d watch her words until he accused her of conspiracy. She’d play it safe.

Langdon watched her become guarded. Hands once placed on either arm of the chair became centered on her lap, fingers twisted together. Green eyes dilated and he could see a muscle tense around her jaw.

“Momentary catharsis isn’t worth the consequences,” she noted.

“There are no laws anymore,” he noted, rounding the desk, “no rules. Chaos has won.”

Em shook her head, “don’t tempt me.”

If she hadn’t of known better she’d of said he looked… enthralled. There was an eagerness to his gaze. Langdon felt his heart leap in his chest. It was as if he was witnessing a phoenix rise from the ashes.

“You’re picturing it now, aren’t you?” he asked, “taking back the power Venable holds, leading a revolt to—”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Em noted, pulling back and leaning back into the chair in preparation to rise from it, “until the cards are in my favor I won’t move.”

His tone scared her as he continued to press and press a button she had been trying to ignore. It was like staring at a snake alone in the middle of the desert, unsure if its bite will simply hurt or turn your insides to mush. Either way, it was just the two of you. Even if you managed to wrangle it off you and cut off its head there was a chance you wouldn’t survive.

“Hold the cards too close to your chest and they will be wasted.”

He only moved slightly towards her and she jumped to her feet as if his mere presence was a blazing inferno. The buzzing feeling began again, spreading from her chest to her head and all the way out to her limbs.

“I think we’re done here,” Em said, words rushing from her mouth before they could catch in her chest. She took a step back. His hands moved quickly, but his touch was light as he grabbed her arm. He pulled her towards him, just as gentle.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, voice almost soft as blue eyes searched into her green ones, “I’m on your side.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp. Em did not care for cages, gilded or covered with rust. Langdon’s eyes looked hurt as she pulled away, gaze going desperately between her face and her arm as if trying to understand why she pulled away.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” She snapped before leaving the room as quickly as her feet would carry her. Langdon simply stood still and let her go, hand slowly falling to his side.

In her desperation to flee, Em’s surroundings seemed to blur around her. She had tunnel-vision and all that mattered was getting as far away from Langdon as possible. What he made her feel… there were no words for it. She was terrified and excited all at once. It was like being on a roller-coaster, the adrenaline rush making you run into danger again and again. No. She wouldn’t run into the fire. She wouldn’t play hero.

“Woah!” a voice exclaimed, “slow down.”

Timothy stood in front of her, hands on either shoulder as he bent down to look her in her eyes. They were frantic, dilated, and unable to focus on anything.

“What happened?”

Movement over her shoulder caught his eye from somewhere down the hall. Langdon stood there, hands coming to rest behind his back as he eyed the pair. A noticeable frown was on the blond’s lips, eyes narrowing on Timothy’s hands on the woman’s shoulders. Timothy felt like he had interrupted something… probably for the better. He honestly couldn’t tell.

Finally noticing Timothy’s gaze, Em glanced over her shoulder to find nothing but a dark hall. She quickly righted herself, calming her breathing and nerves.

“Where’s Emily?” she asked, voice almost robotically even.

“In her room…” Timothy said, pulling his eyes from the dark hall, “why?”

Em shook her head, “You were right… something is wrong with Langdon... wrong with this entire fucking outpost. We need a plan sooner rather than later.”

---------------------------------------------

Hours later, Em couldn’t place why she had been so scared. When she looked at his face she just felt pain striking right at her chest and there was only a moment before the venom destroyed her from the inside out.

Timothy and Emily had noted her distress, promising to brainstorm ideas and meet up later once things settled down. While Em had been the first to propose that they keep their ear to the pavement, the patience to do so was quickly thinning.

There was something in Langdon’s eye… like he could see everything she had ever done or ever will do. It was like he knew exactly what they were doing.

Em paced her room, trying to keep her mind on the tangible instead of giving in to fear. A plan… she needed to figure out a plan. The Warden’s, Grey’s, and Venable were her best bet at getting a base-level understanding of how the outpost was run. She had tried talking to the Grey’s, but they either knew

Things just didn’t add up. Most of the residents, no matter their station, seemed in the dark about The Cooperative’s movements. Venable even seemed perplexed. There could be information in the woman’s room, but doing so would lead them to a quick death.

Their best bet would be to gather information from the Greys, scattered and benign as it may be. Emily was probably talking to them now as Em paced and paced. Going as a group would make them larger targets and more suspicious, but it was maddening to just sit and wait.

A knock on the door pulled her from her reverie. Em raced to hide her notes in her desk. Putting them all back in order was taking more time than she expected. Another knock came, harder and more urgent.

“Just a second!” Em sang, deciding to just shove all the papers in the desk and organize them later. Smoothing down her hair and straightening her skirt, Em stalked to the door and opened it.

There was momentary relief when she saw Coco, quickly replaced with dread when she realized exactly who was standing outside her door.

“Yes?” Em asked, leaning forward as she had one hand on the door and another on the frame. Coco had a sickly sweet smile on her face which could only mean one thing.

“I need your help.”

At least this time she hadn’t beat around the bush and wasted Em’s time with an hour conversation about doing makeup in horrible lighting. She stared at Em, an awkward silence falling between the pair.

“With?” Em finally asked.

Coco gave her a look, “my dress! Duh.”

Em’s eyes scanned over Coco’s dress, confusion marring her features as she looked back at the woman’s face, “what about it?”

“Not this one!” Coco exclaimed, rolling her eyes, “the purple one… well… the purpler one. I asked Mallory and she had no idea what to do but I saw you out here once with —”

“Coco,” Em said, voice like a teacher trying to get a rowdy student to sit in their seat, “what do you want?”

“Can you mend my dress?” Coco grabbed on to one of Em’s hands as she begged, “There’s a giant hole in my armpit and my interview with Langdon is in an hour. I swear I’ll put in a good word with him for you!”

Em pried her hand away from the woman and resisted the urge to groan. Taking a deep breath she weighed her choices. Finally, she let out a sigh, resigning herself to her fate and trying to be as nice as possible.

“I guess I have nothing better to do.”

A grin spread across Coco’s face and she took her hand once more, hardly giving Em a chance to lock her door before dragging her along. Coco was only nice when she wanted something. Em logically knew that. Yet, somehow, the girl reminded her of an old friend, rambling about this, that, and everything as she tugged her along to god knows where. If she stared at the back of Coco’s head for a moment she could pretend the blonde hair belonged to someone else.

Em quickly threw the trail of thought away. Last thing she needed was Coco spreading a story about how she cried over the woman’s pathetic attempts at being a decent human being.

Coco threw open the door to her room and quickly shoved the garment into Em’s hand, shattering whatever illusion of kindness she had briefly created. “Here!”

“What side?” Em sighed, turning the garment around in her hands.

The blonde looked up as she thought, raising one arm, then the other as if recalling the exact moment it ripped.

“Never mind,” Em droned, “I found it.”

The hole was quite large, probably due to its poor fitting. It wasn’t as if they had someone take their measurements before they arrived at the outpost. It reached from the armpit to halfway between the sleeve and the waistline. Coco had gotten lucky, the tear following the natural stitching of the garment.

“Do you have a needle and thread?” Em asked, Coco hovering over her shoulder as she examined the damage.

“Do I look like I mend my own clothes?”

The brunette sighed once more, “get a Grey to bring me something, then.”

“Don’t you have your own tools or something?” Coco scoffed.

Em rose her eyes to look at the spoiled brat.

“When’s your interview?”

Coco huffed and went out into the hall, leaving the door open so the other woman would be sure to hear her stomping. For a moment there was glorious silence, Em examining the inside of the dress to figure out how to sew it up. After a few moments, a figure caught her eye and she looked up at the doorway.

Gallant stood, leaning against the frame with a box in one hand.

“What’s she having you do for her?” he asked.

“Mending clothes,” Em sighed, holding up the dress, “you here for her hair?”

“Yup,” Gallant said with a pop, moving to set up in the room, “Don’t know how many more miracles I can pull in that department.”

“A comment on your lack of supplies or an insult to Coco?”

The man paused, turning back towards her as he eyes the ceiling in thought, “Both?”

They could hear Coco’s stomping before they could see her, the woman appearing in the doorway with a scowl.

“Here’s your supplies,” she snapped before turning to Gallant. She mouthed something Em couldn’t hear, but Gallant’s silent response was comically easy to read as he mouthed the words “I know.”

Wearing a plastic smile she had learned from customer service, Em took the needle and thread from Coco’s hand and pulled out what she needed from the spool.

“Did you get scissors?” Em asked as she looked around.

“No.”

Regretting her decision to help, the brunette turned to Gallant.

“Uh-uh,” He said, shaking a finger in front of him, “no way.”

“Just do it!” Coco snapped, falling back into a seat before her vanity.

With the grace of a sulking toddler, Gallant made his way towards Em, reluctantly cutting the thread. His frown persisted as he went back to deal with Coco’s hair.

“You owe me,” He grumbled. Em couldn’t tell if the statement was directed at herself or Coco.

“Did they ever figure out what caused that power out earlier?” Coco asked Gallant, the two quickly creating their own little bubble of which Em was not a part of. Not that she cared.

“Probably just some minor glitch,” Gallant dismissed, obviously not losing sleep over the issue.

“That’s hardly reassuring. My father paid millions to get us in here. You’d think they’d at least be able to keep it running smoothly.”

Gallant rose his hands, giving Coco a look in the mirror, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Coco didn’t even hear him, going on some random tirade Em quickly tuned out. What she wouldn’t do for a pair of noise-proof headphones.

Both Gallant and Em went into a trace as they worked. Em remembered when she was little and wanted to be a fashion designer, herself and another friend spending their elementary school lunchtime drawing out designs. Her grandmother had been more than happy to teach Em how to use her old and outdated sowing machine. Childlike enthusiasm led to it breaking. In the end, her grandmother was only able to teach her a few things before she passed… most of them with a needle, thread, and her own hands.

“Are you almost finished?” Coco demanded, pulling Em out of her train of thought as she paced the room like an angry chicken. Gallant followed after her, trying to keep his masterpiece in place. “He can’t finish until you’re finished.”

Em paid her no mind, turning back to her work and maintaining her steady pace, “do you want this to look like it was patched together by a drunken child?”

Coco huffed and stalked back to her seat, much to the relief of Gallant.

“I have twenty minutes…” she continued to complain.

“And the walk down the hallway takes five.” Em reminded.

Gallant was content to wait. He’d worked on models before back when he was first making his break and he was well used to clothing mishaps. Coco, on the other hand, glared daggers at Em as she worked. If she was being honest, Em quite enjoyed annoying the woman. It was comically easy to test just how spoiled she truly was.

Fifteen minutes passed and Em finally finished the last stitch, knotting the end a few times to keep it in place.

“Finally!” Coco exclaimed, not waiting for the pair to leave before changing. It wasn’t as if there was much to expose. Victorian undergarments were infinitely more modest than modern swimsuits. As soon as the dress was over her head, Gallant did a few last adjustments to her hair.

“Fini?” Coco asked, staring at the man as he focused on one stray strand. One would think he was diffusing a bomb given the intensity he looked at hair when working. Finally, he nodded and Coco was gone from the room in an instant without a single word of thanks.

“She’s a mess,” Gallant sighed, turning back to pack up his things.

“For once we agree on something.”

“Why did you agree to do this?” he asked, waving a comb as he continued to pack up, “aren’t you usually holed up in the library?”

“Bored.”

Gallant chuckled, “Fair.”

Rolling the loose thread back around the spool, Em made her way back to her room. Without the outside distraction, something to focus on, her mind went back to its earlier worries. She felt like she was staring at a brick wall, wondering how to tear it down when her only tools were her own two hands. If she got to the other side… maybe then she could find something.

Movement caught her eye as she turned a corner, looking up to find Langdon holding the door open for Coco. Something stirred in her chest and she turned away and kept walking before it could fester. Her cheeks warmed as she felt eyes burning into the side of her head.

Emotions were far too stressful. That’s why she liked logic. She just had to focus on the logic. Then she’d be safe.

------------------------------------------

There was nothing like the impending doom of death to make people do anything to chase away anxiety. Even after a solemn vow to never play the game again, they had brought their make-shift Pictionary once more. Bits of extra paper and a whiteboard from the Grey’s common area used to draw upon.

“Oh! Cats the musical!” Coco yelled out as Andre drew, “Horny!”

Timothy kept an eye on his pocket watch, finally looking up as he called time.

“Rosemary’s Baby!” Andre shouted at Coco, circling the spikes at the top of the head he was drawing, “They’re horns!”

Coco huffed and waved a hand as she fell back in her sleep, grabbing her water and taking a drink as Timothy’s eyes returned to his watch.

“Okay! He announced, “Emily and Emily!”

Em got up and reached into the box of folded cards, looking at the words written. Her lips twisted as she thought about how to approach it.

“Ready?” Timothy asked. Em nodded. “Go!”

Rapidly, Em drew a caricature on the white-board as Emily leaned forward in her seat.

“Dolly Parton!” Emily shouted after a few moments. Em threw down the pencil in victory, a large grin on her face.

“No fair!” Coco bemoaned, gesturing to the pair, “you have fucking Da Vinci on your team.”

“I was on your team last time.” Em reminded.

“That was ages ago!”

Em’s eyes flitted up to the balcony which loomed over the salon, a familiar figure in black catching her eye. The glow of the fire made it seem like his hair was made of gold. He leaned on the railing like a content cat watching the mice play.

She pretended she hadn’t noticed him but could feel his eyes on her back, the hairs on her neck standing on end as the buzzing feeling began to return.

“Okay, Timmy,” Gallant declared, rising from his seat to take the board from Em, “our time to shine.”

Her focus on the man watching them was interrupted by Timothy tossing her his pocket watch. If not for the way it caught the light Em would have let it drop.

When she looked up Langdon was gone as if he were a shadow instead of a man.

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon #ahs x reader #ahs x oc #ahs #fanfic #fanfiction #ahs fanfic #american horror story fic

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ground5 · 7 years ago

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Easy Steps to Start an Business

If you have business on mind, there’s no time better than now to do it. There are no limits on who can become a great businessman. You don't necessarily need a college degree, a bunch of money in the bank or even business experience to start something that could become the next major success. However, what you do need is a strong plan and the drive to see it through.

Check out this step-by-step guide to help turn your big idea into a successful business: 1. Write down your vision. You can’t get somewhere without knowing what the vision for your business and your life is. While the end result of your business will probably look a little different than your initial vision, you have to have the end result in mind to start. What do you want to do with your business? Try answering these three simple questions about your product or service and you’ll have a business vision nailed: What is it? What do I get? How do I get it? 2. Research your market. This is such a boring step. There’s no way around it & it’s in depth. It’s for those exact reasons many well-intentioned first-timers at Business will want to skip over this part. Sure, you asked your family and a few friends and they say your idea is great, so you’ve got a market, right? Wrong. You need to look back at the questions that help you with your vision and drill into them again. What is it, and more important for your research, why would someone want it? What do I get from you that I can’t get from someone else or something else? How am I getting it and how is that delivery method better, cheaper, faster or easier for me? These are all helpful questions to see where the market is for your business and what pain points you’ll need to solve for your market with your offering. 3. Create something you can sell. If you can’t solve a problem for your market, you aren’t going to make any sales large enough to sustain a business. It’s that simple. Make sure whatever your business is offering, it solves a problem, because you can market and sell the solution to that problem for a viable business. 4. Get a website. Now that you’ve figured out your market and product offering, you’ll need a website. It doesn’t matter if you’re a retail or online business; both need a website no matter what. You don’t have to spend a fortune on a website to start. Purchase a domain from a site such as GoDaddy or Host Gator. If you’re handy with WordPress, you can install a theme for free or a small fee and get started. If you aren’t handy with WordPress, use a build-it yourself, idiot-proof site-building service such as Wix. If you really don’t want to deal with it, look to UpWork to outsource your website design.

5. Outline your automation. These days, most businesses require some level of marketing and sales automation to really scale. You hear a lot about passive income, and getting your marketing and sales processes as automated as possible will help you maximize the opportunities for truly passive income. Even if you don’t want a passive income business and are actively planning to market your business, you’re still going to want things such as product registration, order tracking and purchases to have some level of automation. Examples include a thank you email, confirmation or upsell offer. Think about the total user experience from visit to purchase on your site and outline what you think are good points for automated messaging or sales offers. Build it on paper ahead of time. Depending on the size of your budget and needs, look into the sales and marketing automation standard for small businesses, Infusionsoft. 6. Set up a sales funnel. If you don’t need the robust offering of a site such as Infusionsoft just yet for your business, look at sales funnel-specific software programs such as Lead Pages. These plug and play into email service providers and payment processing vendors and can be a nice option for small businesses just starting out until they’re ready to scale to bigger platforms. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || ).push({}); 7. Set up an email opt-in. First, you’ll need an email service, such as AWeber or MailChimp, or if you have Infusionsoft or another bigger service provider such as Marketo, email will be part of the platform already. Once you have your email service, you’ll want to ensure there are plenty of places for people to opt-in to your email list on your website, on your landing pages from your sales funnel and anywhere else it’s appropriate. The key to a great, scalable business is a healthy, robust email app. 8. Start a Facebook page. Facebook is a great, free tool for spreading brand awareness and linking to your landing pages and website. If you create and curate really valuable content consistently, you’ll build up a following that can help drive your business and your brand. 9. Create valuable, shareable content. You can post your content on your website, syndicate it through services such as Rebel Mouse and post to your own Facebook page. However, if you want the word to really spread, make sure each piece you post is easily sharable so you can build organic traffic and word of mouth. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || ).push({}); 10. Refine, tweak and improve as you go. You’ll never be done, but follow the previous nine steps and you should be on your way to establishing your business and your plan of action. As you implement each step, remember that you’ll need to continuously learn from each part of the process to tweak and improve as you go. The more you learn and make corrections, the better your business will be positioned for success in the long term. Tip: Today online business is the most effective small business that you can begin with. You start earning money from the comfort of your home. You can make hell lot of money with minimum investment. So, Good Luck! See you on the field. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || ).push({}); Read the full article

#Blockchain #Business #CommercialSpace #Companies #Company #DigitalMarketing #entrepreneur #entrepreneurship #Funding #Ground5 #Growth #Ideas #Innovation #Marketing #Sales #SmallBusiness #Startup #Support #Tech

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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WHAT MICROSOFT IS THIS THE LADDER

You often can't tell yourself. And for programmers the paradox is even more pronounced: the language to learn, if you get bored halfway through and start making the bricks mechanically instead of observing each one, the drawing will look worse than if you had merely suggested the bricks. So why did I need it? You'd think that would work for any kind of taste. And in retrospect, it was crap. Though strictly speaking World War II was an extreme case of this. Some switched from meat loaf to tofu, and others by playing zero-sum games.

So you spread rapidly through all the colleges. Strange as it sounds, that's the real recipe. Although empirically you're better off using the organic strategy, you could succeed this way. Some of the very best ideas. The discoverer is entitled to reply, why didn't you? A lot of startups have that form: someone comes along and makes something for a group that doesn't include you, it tends to be a bit smarter to dominate Internet search than you had to be suitable for everyone. It's hard to trick professors into letting you into grad school.

What would they like to do it for free, in their spare time, and take day jobs as waiters to support themselves? It would seem a misnomer if someone said they were very determined to do something trivially easy. And the flattening effect wasn't limited to those under arms, because the main cost in software startups is people. Sometimes you need an idea now. We had a page in our site trying to talk merchants out of doing real time authorizations. You might also want to look at the employment agreement you sign when you get hired.1 This turns out to be big like Microsoft.

The founders of Kiko, for example. All parents tend to be more interesting than one without. Serious applications like databases are often trivial and dull technically if you ever suffer from insomnia, try reading the technical literature about databases while frivolous applications like games are often very sophisticated.2 Plus if you find someone else working on the same thing, they got it at the same time, as their next door neighbors.3 Often they care a lot about their pets and spend a lot of email, or because they saw a movie star with one in a magazine, or because it's hard to imagine anything more fun to work on certain things. Several well-known startups began this way. Prestige is the opinion of anyone beyond your friends. Good design is often daring.4 Working from life is that it lets you jump over obstacles. That form of fragmentation, like the others, is here to stay.5 Any really good new idea will seem bad to most people; otherwise someone would already be doing it.

If there is such a thing. It could be because it's beautiful, or because they know VCs aren't interested in such small deals. So what less ambitious professors do is turn off the filters that usually prevent you from seeing them. But if opinion is divided in such discussions, the side that knows it would lose in a vote will tend to err on the side of money.6 For most of the great advantage of school: the wealth of co-founders. Good design is timeless. If you just start doing stuff for them, so that is a good idea to Mark Zuckerberg as because he used computers so much. I used to think the good ones, at least now, the reason Google survived to become a good hacker? Math would happen without math departments, but it would work for any kind of work ends up being done by people who don't understand it.

Like a lot of schleps, you'll still have plenty dealing with investors, hiring and firing people, and I suspect the human brain is just as lumpy and idiosyncratic as the human body. But if you're living in the future had few fonts and they weren't antialiased. I'm in debt. If you're at the leading edge of a rapidly changing field, you don't even notice an idea unless it's evidence that something is worth doing, you're more likely to be right than original. And as the Duplo world of a few giant companies dominating each big market. She assumed the problem was one that needed to be solved though. For example, thinking about getting a job will make you happiest over some longer period, like a well.7 VCs are driven by consensus, not just within their firms, but within the VC community. Some of the smartest people around you are professors. I'm old enough to remember that era; the usual term for people with their own microcomputers was hobbyists. I would never use this. Or is it just something nice?

It's a matter of pride, and a pretty striking example it is. This one may not always be true. The main reason they all acted as if they enjoyed their work was presumably the upper-middle class tradition comes from.8 Look around you and see what the smart people seem to be working for them. The purchase price is just the beginning. Not only was this work not for a class, but because it didn't seem ambitious enough. When I told the fearsome Professor Conway that I was interested in AI a hot topic then, he told me I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up, the ambitious plan was to get lots of education at prestigious institutions, and then gradually refine this initial sketch.9 There is something to this tradition, and not just because you don't have to force yourself to do it well. It all evened out in the end, wow, this is a bit of a fib. A lot of them try to make relativity strange. But if your job is to design things, and sometimes it's a sign of laziness.10

Which inevitably, if unions had been doing their job tended to be asymmetric about major axes, though; there were hundreds of minor symmetries. Be ruthlessly mercenary when you start doing this though: you're trying to see things that are obvious, and yet that you hadn't seen. It depends on what the meaning of is is. And the best paying jobs are most dangerous, because they didn't have materials or power sources light enough the Wrights' engine weighed 152 lbs.11 The market doesn't give a shit how hard you worked.12 People who didn't care much for religion felt less pressure to go to grad school, you'll find valuable ones just sitting there waiting to be implemented. The alarming thing is, the mistakes that produce these regrets are all errors of omission. In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig says: You want to know how to solve it. Why not start a startup with someone you like, and that's frightening. Yuppies were young professionals who made lots of money? Business schools like to talk about startups, but philosophically they're at the opposite end of the year I couldn't even remember what else I had stored in that attic.

Notes

It did.

IBM is the only significant channel was our own, like speculators, that all metaphysics between Aristotle and 1783 had been raised religious and then a block or so, even if it's dismissed, it's not inconceivable they were forced to stop, the average car restoration you probably do make everyone else microscopically poorer, by decreasing the difference is that we're not.

So by agreeing to uncapped notes, VCs who understood the vacation rental business, A.

Com of their upbringing in their experiences came not with the exception of the VCs buy, because those are the most part and you start to spread from.

Parents move to suburbs to raise five million dollars in liquid assets are assumed to be important ones.

Sam Altman points out that this was the capital of Silicon Valley. But a couple hundred years ago it would have expected them to lose elections. I apologize to anyone who has them manages to find the right to do this with prices too, and that you decide the price, and earns the right to do some research online. Another advantage of startups that are hard to predict precisely what would our competitors had known we were working on such an idea is bad.

Become increasingly easy to get the people working for me do more than half of 2004, as accurate to call the Metaphysics came after meta after the first question is not economic inequality is a fine sentence, but for a reason. If a company they'd pay a premium for you, however, is not always as deliberate as its sounds.

There are people whose applications are perfect in every way, I mean forum in the same reason 1980s-style knowledge representation could never have come to you as employees by buying good programmers instead of bookmarking. Does anyone really think we're as open as one could do as some European countries have done well if they'd survived. Who is being put through an internal process in their early twenties. Acquirers can be times when what you're doing.

It's probably inevitable that philosophy will suffer by comparison, because spam and legitimate mail volume both have distinct daily patterns. Turn on rice cooker.

17. I think the reason the founders lots of potential winners, which made it to colleagues. According to Michael Lind, when they say that it might seem, because the processing power you can eliminate, do not try too hard to erase from a company's culture. It was revoltingly familiar to slip back into it.

Even now it's hard to think of ourselves as investors, but I'm not sure. Two possible and not least, as accurate to call you about an A round. Some, like speculators, that probably doesn't make A more accurate predictor of low salaries as the cause. Give the founders of Google to do it well enough to be redeveloped as a process.

The knowledge whose utility drops sharply as soon as no one trusts that.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Rajat Suri, Sam Altman, Trevor Blackwell, Geoff Ralston, Paul Buchheit, and Jessica Livingston for inviting me to speak.

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creativitywithtomas · 5 years ago

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Can I rework UNO to teach player’s Empathy and Collaboration?

For my Creative Inquiry I wanted to explore the capacity games have to teach and inform through gameplay mechanics. I then refined this inquiry into reworking UNO to teach two specific skills that can be expressed through gameplay. This allowed me to use my creative domain of game design in order to craft a game with the intent of teaching Empathy and Collaboration solely through the gameplay between players.

I started by breaking down these terms and understanding what I was actually trying to achieve with my design:

Gameplay - This is a term that can be extremely subjective as to what is and isn’t gameplay but on a simplified level it is the ways that the player interacts with the game. The inputs that a player makes in order to achieve eventual outputs. Inherently gameplay needs to be reactive in order to give the player agency and help them feel motivated and invested in the game they’re playing.

Game Mechanics - These are mechanisms that exist within the game that define system behaviours caused by player input. These mechanisms can be empowering, restrictive or neutral but the goal of them is to create a game space that elicits engagement.

Empathy - Empathy is another term that is quite subjective and is hard to find, in “The Social Neuroscience of Empathy” (Decety & Ikes, 2009) it is stated that there are 8 common usages of the term empathy. Out of these 8 I found 5 that would be applicable to being taught through gameplay. These 5 were all ways that empathy could be used to empower the person empathising by using the empathy to inform and create shared understanding. So for my purposes Empathy was “understanding the perspective of another by connecting with their emotions”.

Collaboration - As I did my research on collaboration it was interesting to see how much it did cross over with empathy. In a literature review on collaboration Emily Lai defines it as “Mutual Engagement of participants in a coordinated effort to solve a problem together” (Lai, 2011). This definition doesn’t just describe the act of working together, but that it’s coordinated. Coordination requires communication and understanding of the capabilities of members of the team in order to perform.

The Design Process

From this point I was able to draw a lot of connections between Empathy and Collaboration in order to best address how to express them in gameplay format. Teams work well collaboratively when they both understand the goal they are trying to achieve but also understand each other. To reach an understanding of each other a common ground of knowledge between all parties must be found through communication, once this common ground has been found then it can be expanded by receptive exchange of knowledge and ideas. To express this through gameplay and mechanics players needed to be given opportunities to find common ground and then expand it in order to achieve a common goal. Using both the tools of Empathy and Collaboration to do this. In my question I set myself the boundary of only using a deck of UNO cards as my game elements in order to keep things simple and prompt creativity in my response within an existing framework. Within my design I could have completely changed the design and have the only similarity be the physical cards themselves, but I did realise quite fast that using the framework to my advantage was a better idea.

Collaborative Element

UNO itself is a game where you can both help and or sabotage the other players. The card placed in the centre either opens up the capacity for the next player to play a card or denies them the ability too. As well as this, cards like the skip or reverse card can be used in both malicious and helpful ways to other players. Cards like the draw 4 and draw 2 within the traditional games rule set (first player to empty their hand wins) are considered to only be destructive to another player as its outcome directly opposes the win condition for that player.

With this in mind all of the effects except the draws effects already had the capacity to be both malicious and helpful. I needed to design a win condition that would make the draw 4/2 card have that same capacity, I looked into several possibilities but I ended up with the condition that “All players must empty their hand in 1 cascading turn”. With this win condition sometimes playing a draw card on someone would prevent the game from finishing too soon but it could also take a player further away from that win condition.

Margarida Romero did a study on Collaboration in Game Based Learning in this study she tested school children’s capacity to collaborate in a game environment (Baek, Y, 2013). One of the key points she discussed was that of interdependence, where each member of the team is dependent on the other for success. She noted that teams functioned better when they understood each other’s interdependence in a positive way and recognised that each team member’s efforts were indispensable for success.

This win condition fits the mold of interdependence, where not only is each player reliant on the other player for success but because of the random nature of card games each player has unique abilities. This is because the cards in the players hand are the capacity of action the players have available to them when interacting with the game system and in most circumstances players will have completely different hands. To achieve the win condition players must discover positive interdependence and effectively collaborate.

Empathy Element

As stated before for the model I’m working with empathy is “understanding the perspective of another by connecting with their emotions” and my intention is to use this to empower people through understanding each other. Playing UNO with this collaborative win condition already uses some degree of empathy since you want to connect with the people you’re playing with so you can communicate. But this is only a good tool to teach empathy in situations where everyone is in a similar situation to you; with the same struggles and the same tools to solve a problem. This isn’t a good reflection of empathy in a real world setting; where people are more likely to have their own unique struggles they have to attend to that may influence how they can solve a problem.

In order to express these unique struggles I came up with a list of disadvantages that players are afflicted with at the start of the game. In some cases these disadvantages are known by the whole team and in other cases they are only known by the person who has them. With this design it creates a game space where players need to be aware of their teammates actions and try to connect with how they’re thinking and the choices they’re making. In a way the players are distanced by this mechanic and in order to collaborate effectively they must find a way to cross that distance and achieve the win state.

Some of the disadvantages I’ve designed took inspiration from mental illnesses, physical handicaps and just general behaviours that could cause complications in a collaborative space. The core goal of these disadvantages was to give something that elicited struggle in the player that can be seen and deduced by other players as well as drive unique collaborative solutions.

Since the disadvantages of each player changes with each round of play the common ground moves. It is up to the players to find that common ground that everyone shares and expand it. By giving players a space where they get to go through this process several times, all the while empathising with each other to discover each other's disadvantages they can better develop these two skills.

Game Rules

The game starts with each player drawing a card from a shuffled deck, they are not to reveal this card unless it is a Block or Reverse card (As these cards have mechanics that need to be understood by the whole team). Players identify what disadvantage they are afflicted based on what card they draw and then return that card back to the deck. From this point on aside from the changes the disadvantages bring to the game the rule set is similar to traditional UNO last card. Each player is dealt 7 cards, then the top card from the deck is placed in the centre and each player must take turns matching that card. Rules like that each player must say “UNO” on their second to last card else they draw 4 cards as it doesn’t contribute to the game’s intent and can be used as an exploit.

Ultimately the win condition is for each player to empty their hand sequentially after the other. As long as it doesn’t breach any disadvantage a player may be afflicted with, players can discuss what cards are in their hands to collaborate. But players are not allowed to physically show their hands unless a disadvantage says they can. Each turn a player may guess another player’s disadvantage and if they are correct that player may confirm this and give the team as a whole more context on how to move forward.

Reflection

Overall I’m very happy how this project turned out, it did end up being a less is more situation. The more times I tried to add complexities to my design the more I discovered that I was being restrictive to how the players could solve a problem. As I discovered the connections between Empathy and Collaboration I was able to synergies these two methodologies together in the design.

I do start to question if Empathy is the correct word I was looking for, in a clinical sense Empathy is the emotive subjective connection with someone’s emotions whereas Sympathy is the objective understanding of emotions. In a professional collaborative space it may be more prudent to Sympathise opposed to a more personal environment where Empathy would be more suitable. This can also depend on the person though whether they can understand from a more emotive space or a more factual space. In the current design both are facilitated but in moving forward it would be better to focus on one or the other.

When it comes to the disadvantages also it would benefit from more research and testing to see how conductive these effects are to inciting an emphatic and collaborative challenge. Some effects like “Shy: You may only speak when invited to speak by another” play on social behaviour where players need to identify that another player isn’t talking and needs support. Whereas “Compulsive Liar: You can only state your cards once per turn and when you do one of them must be believably incorrect” frames the player almost as a saboteur who is ruining the collaborative effort when they are in the same need of support. It stands to reason whether players would even try to empathise with the Compulsive Liar but if they could it would be a powerful lesson. Reference

Lai, E. (2011). Collaboration: A Literature Review. https://images.pearsonassessments.com/images/tmrs/Collaboration-Review.pdf

Baek, Y. (Ed.). (2013). Psychology of gaming. ProQuest Ebook Central https://ebookcentral.proquest.com Decety, J., & Ickes, W. (Eds.). (2009). The social neuroscience of empathy. ProQuest Ebook Central https://ebookcentral.proquest.com

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je-suis-clarisse · 5 years ago

Text

Capture (Part 2)

England: Howard Stark sat at his desk, uncharacteristically quiet. Across from him sat Peggy Carter, her hands folded in her lap. Neither was looking forward to the meeting they were having today. Howard had made the phone call whilst Peggy had begun the investigation into Clarisse du Volde's disappearance. Given her work during the first World War and the Civil War, how she had stuck it out to the end; they knew she wouldn't abandon her post to leave and lead a life of luxury, which she could have easily done. She had been a spy and also a nurse; she had done work with the resistance. Clarisse wanted to help people and she did so, no matter the cost to herself. Peggy knew that Elijah had lectured his good hearted daughter on her position. He hadn't broken through her thick head, but she had clearly not changed his position about offering himself up to help with the war effort. Like father, like daughter. It was Peg who saw Elijah Mikaelson walk in and as he did so, she stood up. Howard followed suit. If Elijah was surprised, he didn’t say so. He was a man known for keeping his head and his emotions in check. However, Peggy knew that this wouldn’t go well. Not when they told him that Clarisse was a prisoner of war. They’d discussed the possibility of her death, but Peggy surmised that since Hitler was curious about the occult and the possibility of immortality, he would keep her alive. “If anyone can survive, it'd be her," Howard mused. "She's like Steve. Wily and spirited. Always thinking." He was always trying to consider the positives. He'd put his fortune on it. Still, he knew they were up against huge odds. Odds that, at this point, were not in their favor. Peggy was the realist but she wasn't about to burst Howard's high hopes. Nor did she want to face the possibility that the cheerful woman would never bother her again. “Old friend, how are you?” Howard asked, shaking Elijah’s hand as he came into the room, taking his hat and setting it and his jacket on the coat rack. “I’m well enough. But I suspect that since I’m here, I’m about to hear something I don’t particularly want to hear,” Elijah replied, looking at the both of them. Taking a seat, he brought his left ankle to his right knee, smiling appreciatively as Howard poured him a drink. Bourbon, Elijah nodded approvingly as he raised it to his lips. He might be a millennia old, but he did appreciate Stark's expensive and refined taste. Howard considered how to tell him when Peggy just put the ring down in front of the Original Vampire. As he looked over at her, he was once again in awe of the strength she displayed. If Peggy was frightened, Howard would never know it for her face was a portrait of mystery. For a moment, she paused, expecting something explosive. Instead, Elijah's movement was precise and fierce; much like a predator about to pounce. His eyes darkened for a moment as he looked to the ring, lifting it up and holding it between his fingers. As he looked at the engraving inside of it, he pressed his lips together and Elijah closed his eyes. There was a lethal edge to his voice as he spoke, yet Peggy also recognized a slight hitch, the one that revealed a minuscule amount of fear. Not remarking upon it, nor assuring him that they'd have it under control, Peg let him break the silence. “Where did you find this?” “It was brought to us by one of the nurses that worked with Clarisse,” Howard spoke up, finally finding his voice. “She was taken after her shift was ending. We suspect she dropped it as a sign to us...and in turn, you.” “I told her to be careful…” Elijah murmured under his breath. If his temper was flaring, he kept it under a cool exterior. Peggy admired that. There had only been one moment where she wondered if he would break. Deep down, she wished Risse would come bounding in the door, her green eyes lively with her usual joie de vivre, but there was no chance of that. 'You'll keep me apprised?'' Elijah asked, his voice still that terrifying tone of calm, as he finished his bourbon and set the glass down. "Of course," Peggy responded. Already her mind was working in twenty different directions. Namely how to keep Elijah from marching into Germany and ripping the heart out of anyone who looked at him wrong. Elijah Mikaelson squared his shoulders as he took his hat and coat and headed out the way he came in, though his rage was white hot. Keeping her ring close and the small photograph of her in his billfold, Elijah began to plot. To Germany he'd go. But this required thought and a great deal of precision. Not to mention, stealth. As he climbed into the back of the car, telling his driver where to go, he drew out the photograph and looked at her smiling visage whilst he gave a smirk. It had been a rare moment of playfulness where he indulged her by posing for a few pictures. On the back was her calligraphic handwriting, 'Papa, I love you more than I do Clark Gable! Always and forever, your Risse.' With a tremor to his voice, Elijah put the picture away and murmured, "I will find you, Risse. I promise." Somewhere in Berlin. "Oh good, you're awake." Opening up her eyes, Clarisse looked around. She was in a cell. Slowly rising up, she braced herself on the wall, willing the world to stop spinning. Every part of her body ached and she didn't even think about what had been done to her. She had no doubt that had she been aware. She would have ripped the offenders to shreds. She rubbed her finger, missing the feeling of gold on her finger. She hoped by now someone had turned it in. She didn't dare hope for a quick rescue, but she hoped someone would be aware. Her mind went to Elijah and she knew that beneath his fury, he'd be worried sick. She liked to think she knew him well. Still, thinking of him made her sad and she had to stop thinking of him before she began to cry. Her hand went to her neck and at least her necklace was still on. "Where am I?" She asked, eyes settling on the fellow across from her. "Berlin. We're Die Kuriositäten des Führers." She raised a brow. The Fuhrer's Curiosities. How...lovely. To be reduced to a sideshow act, essentially. "They mean to figure out what makes us immortal." He continued. "They exploit our weakness, so I hope you're tougher than you look. It gets very lonely here. The girl who stayed in that cell before you died. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I think you should probably know." "What are you? And who are you?" "You can't tell? I'm a werewolf. My name is Silas. I’m a Polish Jew, so if you don’t want to talk to me, I understand," he spoke to her, explaining the accent that she hadn’t been quite able to place. Still, she granted him a smile. Why that mattered, she just didn’t understand. Christ himself had been a Jew; would Hitler have put him in a camp too? She had many questions. Perhaps in her time here, she and Silas could distract themselves by asking the unanswerable. Still, he was waiting for her reaction, and she did so. "I’m Clarisse. I’m a Vampire and I don’t care that you’re Jewish," she replied, earning a smile back from him. "I could tell. You tried to bite the guard when they first brought you in. They gave you a sedative and something else. That was three days ago." Silas continued, reaching through the bars to shake her hand, which she met readily. Her eyes widened at that. Three days past? She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her face and sat down, doing so in a position where they could keep talking. At least she wasn’t alone in this ordeal. They spent more time deep in conversation, learning more about Silas and his life. He had been pulled from the Auschwitz camp and brought here. Her heart went out to him and she would have hugged him if she were able to. He chattered on and she learned about Hitler and his desire to become immortal. “He wants, quite literally, to take over the world,” Silas mused. “May that never happen!” Clarisse agreed and kept this all to her mind, trying to remember it all, so she could pass it along to Peggy. This fellow was worse than even Red Skull, she was certain of this. Or perhaps just on par. It didn’t make sense to her that men such as this could move up the ranks and become what they had. Why? And why had the world turned a blind eye to the plight of the suffering? War was a blight on humanity. It often solved nothing. For every dictator brought down, another rose up in their place. It was a vicious cycle. As she was about to respond, two of the SS marched in, pulling her out. "I can walk on my own," Clarisse hissed at them, wrenching her arms from their grips. It made no sense to run yet--she had no idea where she was going to go. At the very least, she would have to endure a week here; learn the ins and out, get to know those working here, and to learn the layout of the building. To do so prematurely would only serve as a mistake and they would never allow her to make the same mistake twice. Walking with them to wherever, she raised a brow as they entered the laboratory, scowling as they made her sit down in the most uncomfortable chair she'd ever sat in. If they were going to torture her, they had certainly picked the right chair to do so. However, she decided quickly to not cooperate, but also not to do anything to enrage them. She ultimately had what they wanted. They couldn't kill her--rather, it would be stupid to kill her. “We have done our research on you,” the woman spoke, looking to Clarisse. To her consternation, Clarisse simply raised a brow and remained silent. She would not give her the satisfaction of confirming whether her research was right or wrong. She was an actress. This was her moment to shine. Even if her talents were being wasted upon these tossers. These were the same people who would no longer hire Marlene Deitrich for God's sake! She wouldn't waste a bit of her talent on them. (Not that she was as good as Deitrich or Garbo or any of them.) “Born in 1772, the youngest of four living children. Your mother was pregnant several times but only had a few live births. And you.. you're not even a true Du Volde. You are...how would they have put it? A bâtard. Your true father was Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans. He was something of a libertine--just in case you didn't know. Your mother probably didn’t even know. When we took your blood, we did some testing." Clarisse stayed silent, not saying a word in response, though the word was offensive. Hearing the news of her true parentage was surprising, but she still kept her face blank. She refused to respond to anything they told her. She would not. If they thought by insulting her mother they’d get a rise out of her, they’d be disappointed. Though, she was surprised at the mention of Louis Philippe. She had never met him but had heard of him. He had been beheaded the month after Marie Antoinette. His own relatives and he had voiced support for the family to die. Still, she was curious as to how Vivian and his paths crossed. She had always joked she was royalty. Hearing this fact only confirmed it now, that she was right. Still, it was moot now. She listened as they continued to speak of her human life. It amazed her how much they actually had right. It was finally when they were silent that she spoke. “What a fascinating biography you’ve concocted,” she told them using some of the German she knew. “And you were turned in 1791.” The woman folded her arms over her chest. Clarisse couldn’t help but think she might have been attractive save for the black uniform and swastika emblazoned on it. If this was the master race, count her out. She was quite content to be an enemy of the Reich. For this, she went silent again. She did not want to speak of it, nor confirm it. Still, in those three days of unconsciousness, she supposed they’d confirmed what she wasn’t speaking of. The male gripped her chin suddenly, forcing her to look up at him and despite it not being ladylike, she spat in his eye. When he backhanded her, she laughed. If they wanted her to be the monster that they thought she was? Very well. “Was that meant to hurt?” she asked, smirking as he rubbed at his hand, cursing under his breath in German. “I’ve had children hit harder.” Clarisse leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs and looking around her surroundings more fully. It was a laboratory, one where instead of animal testing, they tested on herself and other immortal beings. She looked around for a telephone but didn’t find one, much to her chagrin. Their frustration was all too apparent as they strapped her into the chair, making it damn near impossible to break out. “We will find out how you became immortal,” The woman snarled. Clarisse bit on her bottom lip, feeling her fang make her bleed slightly. She was hungry. The scent of the woman before her was singing to the vampire, who could feel her eyes darkening and she closed her eyes once more, quashing her hunger for now. It was a mistake she wouldn't make again, because in the moments of her keeping her eyes shut, curtains were thrown back and the heat of the sun touched her unprotected skin for the first time in over a century. As they let the sunlight fill the room, despite the utter agony of her flesh burning, Clarisse refused to scream. The scent of her own charred flesh filled the place and howls could be heard all throughout. For a moment she wondered why, when she realized, she smelled like cooked meat. The wolves were likely starving. Cringing at the idea that she might be their meal, she surmised it to be a better fate than being a Nazi plaything. Still, the pain was agonizing and she couldn’t even think straight. Seeing the two officials standing and taking notes enraged her to no end. They truly were monsters. How anyone could mistake her for a monster, she had no idea. But she was not that. No. She refused to accept that. She never could tolerate seeing someone suffer. But they thrived on it. If this was what being one of the Fuhrer’s ‘curiosities’ entailed, she would have no problem telling him to fuck right off. (She issued a silent apology to Elijah, who told her such coarse language should never leave her.) When the sun began to sink low in the sky once more, the window was once again covered and blessed darkness surrounded Clarisse. They left her in the chair, going off to eat or to do whatever it was they were meant to. Her body was throbbing from the burns and she momentarily ached for the true death to come and claim her but that would be a betrayal to those who loved her and those she loved. She would endure. It was as simple as that. Besides, there were people out there who needed her help. Sitting idly would never do. When someone came and carried her back to her cell, she was amused to find that he had garlic on him and a silver crucifix at his throat. As if those things would stop her if she really meant to attack him. He lay her down gently and Clarisse was surprised, but she remained silent. The young man marched out and left a light on, that didn't cast much in the way but a lone yellow beam. "I am glad you're back," Silas spoke softly. "I am sorry you're in pain. I'd offer you my blood, but I think it would hurt you." "It would," she finally spoke after hours of silence. "But the thought is kind. However, I never leave home unprepared." Drawing off her necklace, pleased to find it still hanging around her neck, she paused before raising the vial of blood up. "That's handy!" Silas whispered to her and Risse chuckled for the first time in days. "My father told me to keep it in case of emergencies," she whispered back, opening it and downing the contents. It was one of a few vials she always kept on her person. She was simply grateful that they had not stripped her. Though they'd gone out of fashion some four decades prior, Clarisse was fond of her whalebone corsets. She'd gotten in the habit of wearing them again whenever she was on the field. Bullets ricocheted off the bone and the corset made it easy to hide things. In this case, several vials of blood. She would have to preserve them, using them only when she was desperate. But tonight, she would use this one. Downing the contents, she gasped feeling strength course through her frame, her burned flesh healing. She was as ever, appreciative. Even though he wasn't here, Elijah was taking care of her. Looking over at Silas, her emerald eyes shining in the dim light. "I know there are people probably out looking for me. But I'm determined to break loose before they get here. You in?" She asked, her smile widening when Silas agreed. "Then, let's get to plotting. Tell me everything you know."

#my writing

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pixelproductions · 5 years ago

Link

Guide to Creating a Successful Content Marketing Campaign

Think of this Guide as a sort of content marketing 101 primer. You’ll learn the key principles of content marketing strategy as well as sophisticated ways to research, refine, and improve your team’s content marketing output.

This post will help your team:

• Brainstorm campaign ideas that broadly resonate in your market

• Create customer-centric content that generates leads

• Use data to better focus on your customer’s needs

• Boost your traffic and conversions with advanced selling principles

I. Content marketing principles

Whether you’re writing a blog post or thinking of a new webinar campaign, I’ve found these six principles to be at the heart of successful content marketing.

1. Make the customer successful.

Writing feels abstract. But our customers come to our website with concrete problems. If they don’t grow their client’s Instagram followers, they could lose the business. If they don’t find a faster way to create reports, they need to work late fighting with a frustrating spreadsheet. Before We try to hit our goals, we need to help the customer solve their problems. Everybody agrees with this. But often content marketing attempts to solve the company’s problems (tell people about our product features so they fill out a lead form) before solving the query that brought the reader to the page.

2. Make it real.

To make the customer successful, you need to write about what they actually struggle with. The best way to do this is to root content in a real insight. Talk to the sales team. Talk to customers. Look for concrete problems that people are trying to solve. Managing the corporate complexity of global and local teams is not a concrete problem. Instead, “how do I get our local offices to actually read our brand policies?” is closer to what people are actually trying to do in their daily job.

3. Make it simple.

Your reader isn’t dumb. And you are not smarter than your reader. But they also don’t have time to wonder what you meant by “integrate your workflows to drive higher revenue.” Use concrete language. Write so simple that a fifth grader can understand it.

4. Make it sound human.

Short sentences and short paragraphs work best. Avoid big words. When you find a sentence longer than 15 words, consider chopping it into two. Strive to include a mix of long and short sentences. Avoid generic language. A writer’s job is to destroy cliches.

5. Make your advice immediately actionable.

As Rand Fishkin noted in his content marketing manifesto, the reader needs to be able to walk away from your content and immediately do something differently to grow their traffic, use a new social network, or impress their boss with advanced knowledge. A lot of content offers generic advice (such as “optimize your social media profiles”) instead of giving people advice they can go and try out right after reading. Ask yourself: after reading this content, what can the reader go and immediately apply to their job?

6. Make things you’re proud of.

Don’t settle. Create things you are proud of. Fight for good work. When you encounter an obstacle, build a better way.

Five questions to stay on track:

Does this help the reader? Are you actually solving their problem (“this is how you increase your sales”) or masking product information as advice (“how to increase your sales = book a demo with our sales team”).

Is this rooted in a specific, tangible, and real customer problem? Saving time on social media is not a problem. But spending four hours trying to create social media reports for your boss in Excel is.

Is this fake content? You know the problem (customers want more sales from Instagram) but does the advice actually show them how to solve this? To make the customer successful, your advice needs to provide concrete steps that helps them solve their challenges.

Is it actionable? After reading this content, what can the reader go and immediately apply to their business?

Are you proud of this? Is it simple? Does it sound like a human? Is it something you’d share with your friends?

II. The best types of content to create

From blog posts to webinar presentations, here are the five best types of content we’ve found to drive traffic and attract leads.

1. Do the work for them

Spend five hours reading about trends in the industry and then summarize your findings. This saves your reader time—they only have to spend 10 minutes to gain what took you five hours to find.

2. Write about your company’s values

“To ensure you don’t go down the rabbit hole of forgettable content, write about what you know and write with conviction . . . the best writing comes from your unwavering belief in how things should work,” says Intercom. Express simple messages such as “social media is changing businesses” with stories. Such as: “how a wine-lover built a global business with his Twitter handle.”

3. Learn something and then share the how-to

Figure out how to do something (like setting up conversion tracking in Facebook) and then explain how to do this with clear steps. Make it real. Ask someone to try to do the steps after you write it—but before you publish it.

4. Share something they can’t find anywhere else

Share something only your company knows. For example, a study based on company data or a customer story you heard from sales.

5. Do the thinking for them

Spend an hour brainstorming marketing tactics a company could do. Then write a list post with your creative ideas. Most people don’t have the luxury to think. You do. Even a few ideas can help them look smarter in meetings.

III. Where to find new content ideas

Customer and product research

As the legendary copywriter Eugene Schwartz said: “Listen to your customers and the mind of your market. Learn more about the product. These two sources will never fail you.”

Trying to grow traffic by 20 percent in the next quarter? Stuck for a marketing campaign idea? Overwhelmed with creating a strategy to reduce churn?

The answer is in the mind of your market or in your product. There is no other source of inspiration.

This is a simple point. But teams rush to whiteboards, hoping their creativity will pull a solution from the air. As a result, you get generic strategies, pun-filled ad campaigns, and surface content. The role of creativity isn’t to produce ideas from nothing. Instead, creativity connects the dots between two sources of input: product and customer knowledge.

Go on a sales safari

One of my favorite strategies that I learned from Pamela Slim, a popular speaker and marketing consultant, is a sales safari. A sales safari helps you observe customers in their natural habitat. This helps you find ideas for products or campaigns by understanding the concrete problems your customers stumble over each day.

Use these five questions to guide your safari.

ONE, what is their knowledge level?

Does your company collect information about different deals that you’ve won or lost? If so, a good method to research an audience’s knowledge level is to look at these notes to see who is involved in typical deals.

For example, if the brief is to write for the travel industry look for a travel deal. Then look for the different people (the customer, not your sales team) involved in the deal, their job titles, and names.

With that information, go to LinkedIn and Twitter, find their profiles, and then look at the content they share regularly. You can build a search stream in Hootsuite and regularly see what they like to share and the level of knowledge they have about social media.

TWO, what is the concrete problem they are trying to solve?

This is harder to find. People don’t talk about it on their LinkedIn profile. The best place to begin here is to talk to sales. Book a meeting and ask about what their customers ask about on a daily basis. Even better, see if you can sit in silently on an actual sales call.

A few places to look:

Look for a public Facebook Group where prospects talk about their daily struggles at work.

Search Inbound.org, Quora, and Clarity for people asking questions. Varying results here but you can uncover some gold.

Talk to real people. Talk to the sales team, interview an expert in the field (such as a consultant who works with the vertical), or interview a customer to learn about their daily challenges.

Search for a book on the topic. Such as “Social Media for Dummies.” Then go to Amazon. Read through the reviews. You’ll get a human picture of the actual pain they were trying to solve by reading the book. Joanna Wiebe, an author and copywriter, first introduced us to this tactic.

THREE, what have they done already to try to solve this problem?

It’s rare people have never tried solving the problem your product solves.

What’s more likely is that they’ve tried to solve the problem, bought your competitor’s software, and failed. Copywriter Ray Edwards calls this your buyer’s “try-fail cycle.”

Good content says, “this is what you are struggling with, here is a solution.” But great content says, “this is what you are struggling with, here are the things you’ve probably already tried and why they didn’t work out. Here is what to do instead.”

FOUR, what’s the transformation?

This is where marketing skill comes in. Prospects will tell you basic outcomes such as “We want to increase our social audience.” But they won’t tell you their true desired outcomes: “I want this to be a big campaign win so that my boss keeps me on this important client account.” Great content speaks to the organization’s vision and the prospect’s individual career goals.

Read the book “Crossing the Chasm” to learn how transformation means different things to different people. For example, a young disruptive company buys software for different reasons than established organizations.

Go to your brand positioning for ideas. At GrowthPix, my manifesto helps to align content strategy with my values and belief. By expressing your company’s or blog’s vision with customer stories, blog posts, and guides, you’ll avoid having too many messages out there in the market. It’s the glue that keeps your content thematic and memorable.

FIVE, how can the product help them?

At some point, you’ll need to show customers how your product helps to solve their challenges. Be an expert in your product. This gives you better ideas (such as ways to reduce churn or better onboard users). Use it in your everyday work. Read technical manuals. Master new features.

IV. Advanced principles to grow your conversions

Once you have a direction, here are a few things to help refine your content.

Be generous

“Content marketing’s goal,” says Rand Fishkin, the founder of the software company Moz, “is not to convert customers directly.” The goal is to build familiarity, likeability, and trust. One of the greatest skills you can develop as a marketer is to learn how to give without asking.

Create more than unique content

Unique content isn’t enough. Being useful isn’t enough. People need to remember you. They searched for days for strategy advice. They found mediocre advice. Then they found your blog post. You cared and actually helped them. The goal of content marketing is to arrest the reader in their search. They’ve found their mentor.

Hide your obvious sales language

One of the first things you learn in sales is to sell benefits, not features. Completely true. But what you don’t learn is that the best salespeople hide their selling techniques. “Drive more revenue” sounds like advertising. It’s a benefit we’ve all heard before. Peter Thiel’s book “Zero to One” is a great resource. He shows that if you want to be good at selling, you need to learn how to hide your tricks.

Go advanced, rather than basic

“Don’t include advice, tips, or tactics that more than 20 percent of your audience already knows,” says Rand Fishkin. When in doubt, go for more advanced than too basic.

Make your CTA (call to action) congruent

AND NOW IT’S TIME TO SELL SOME BENEFITS.

If you spent 1,000 words being a funny, likable expert, you don’t need to shift into your sales voice to get them to download a guide. This breaks the mirror. You’ve already built trust. So just tell them in the same voice what to do. Keep it casual. For example, “here’s a free downloadable template that will help you craft a professional social media strategy, including a PowerPoint template to present your strategy to your boss or clients.”

#guide to creating a successful content marketing campaign #content marketing

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kksmith-usc-blog · 6 years ago

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Creative Problem Solving | Interviews | Unit 7

Suzanna O. | Sr. UX Research Analyst @ Spectrum

Suzanna is a lead on the UX Research team. Her role is to research and validate how customers interact with Spectrum’s video products.

How do you generate ideas? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?

When I’m formulating new ideas, I begin by organizing my environment and creating a simple, clean workspace. I enjoy the silence when I’m thinking and ideating – some people love music, but I just need quiet. I also love great pens and notebooks – I know that sounds silly, but there’s something so great about a really good pen. I also know that I need to give myself rewards. So I might set milestones to my work and allow myself to have a piece of chocolate or a coffee if I hit certain benchmarks.

I then ultimately start by writing everything down on paper. There’s something really helpful in writing everything with a paper and pen, allowing me to not be distracted by anything digital. It’s also helpful to initially think about my idea on my own, avoiding any group-think before I can concretely gather my ideas.

One of the challenges or obstacles I face is becoming overwhelmed by the problem. Often times, I start by talking to other people about the problem or potential problem. These people I speak with are sometimes experts in the area I’m studying and ultimately can provide the most honest perspective when I’m trying to unpack the problem statement. Other times, these individuals might have similar knowledge of the problem as myself. I’m interested in understanding how these people might uniquely approach questions. Asking other people about the problem in question helps me to frame my questioning appropriately and ultimately think outside the box.

I’m incredibly inspired by the outcomes I see in my work. I don’t always get to see these outcomes or results of the problems I’ve tried to solve, but on the rare chance, it’s great. I’ve been in this career for nearly ten years, so I’ve had the opportunity to see the wins and loses. When you’re able to witness the results of your effort, even months or years afterward, it’s incredibly inspiring and makes you want to do more work that could possibly result in a positive outcome.

What process do you use to solve problems? Describe the steps of your problem-solving process and explain your journey from inspiration to implementation.

My problem-solving process involves a lot of exploration before I can feel comfortable understanding the problem that truly needs to be solved. I start by talking to other people who might have more information or a different perspective on the problem. I also consciously, both in my own psyche and when talking to others, avoid the solution. This phase is just about asking questions.

I need to go into this discovery and exploration phase with confidence in order to continue to dig further. However, after you tackle a few hard problems and get positive affirmation, you begin to have more confidence throughout. Ultimately, confidence in oneself and one’s practice is a huge focus for me in my research techniques. I also usually have mini-self reflection retro’s (retroactive sessions) to understand how I chose to solve the problem in this or that way. These self retro's are really helpful and kind of fun for me.

Along the process, and truly before I begin my creative process, I have to really understand my audience and know the context from which they’re coming from. I ask myself questions like: “What is your level of involvement?” and ask them why they believe the problem statement exists in the first place.

When evaluating the tactile steps of UX research, I implement any kind of base understanding using things like past research, examples, competitive perspectives and context. I also implement visualizations like data visualization and any customer testimonials or video/audio clips I can pull to help solidify the problem.

Alex G. | Director of Design @ Spectrum

Alex is the Director of Design for Spectrum. Unofficially, he and his team create relationships throughout the organization to do things that ultimately discover new ways to do things. Alex’s focus is uncovering new ways to connect people with creative thinking that leads to positive business decisions.

How do you generate ideas? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?

First of all, I believe everyone is born as a creative – it’s something you always have regardless of what you do with your life. It’s whether you chose to explore that side of yourself that allows you to be considered creative.

I define creativity in the business world as a blend of imagination (imagine the results, how would it impact the world and does it align with my value system), self-expression (does it have self-expression of me as its creator) and innovation (will the product stand the test of time).

I also feel the main difference between being an artist and being a creative business person is the emphasizing angle of empathy and research placed on the creation. Designers are scientists.

So my ideation process and inspiration techniques stem from empathy. There is power in being able to empathize and feel the pain of someone experiencing a [business] problem. New ideas then come through witnessing people experiencing a bad business problem, whether it’s bad UX, bad social issues or other things. I believe that in order to be a good designer, one must just observe the world. The best ideas I usually have come from years of observation and just living my life. I call this a research phase.

When overcoming obstacles, I think the most important part is maintaining a stubborn approach – just keep on doing it, whatever “it” is. Practice, as in any sport (baseball, soccer) goes farther than anything. When everyone else goes home after the game, you stay and keep practicing. The same rules go for good design.

Once the body is in motion, it stays in motion; inertia is a powerful force.

New ideas innovated by design are like a stone wall that won’t go anywhere if you just un at it at full speed. If anything, you’ll knock yourself out. But if you’re persistent and almost crazed about your idea, and keep on chipping away, sooner or later, you’ll succeed.

Obstacles are normal and a sign of physical reality. If the obstacles are not there, I believe the world will create obstacles or you will self-create obstacles – they’re a very normal part of life. Overcoming the obstacles is excitement. It means you believe a better world exists.

Ultimately, I believe the secret ingredient of the secret ingredient soup is intent; everything you design must align with your values as a human being.

What process(es) do you use to solve problems? Describe the steps of your problem-solving process, explaining your journey from inspiration to implementation.

I abide by three main steps:

a) Extreme Empathy: The process must start with experiencing the pain and witnessing the problem as it impacts the users/audience/social structures/people you’re working for as a designer. In design, the pain is constant and it’s the crux of the process.

b) Ask Around: Ask the marketplace to casually weigh in to validate the idea. This market place can be your friends or people on the street. You just need to talk to others about the possible solution that needs to be solved. This is where you have the opportunity to take your idea and refine it or iterate based on what people are helping you validate.

c) Distill: Once your problem statement is validated by potential users, then turn on the tenacity machine and just tell yourself “I’m doing this whether you like it or not!” I’m super inspired by Jack Ma. He’s my hero right now. Something like 18 people invested in Alibaba for a grand total of $5K. No one really believed in him, but he had the tenacity to keep going. He paired his vision and intent with the product, and now Alibaba is doing OK.

Everything else is mechanical past these three stages. Designers are scientists. Designers need to distill and feel the pain before they can offer a sound solution.

Ashley M. | Events Specialist for Philips Healthcare

Ashley is an Events Specialist for the Cardiovascular unit for Philips Healthcare. She plans external events for the company’s cardiovascular products.

How do you generate ideas? How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?

In my personal life, I’m inspired by the idea of being able to create something autonomously, on my own. I have a goal of developing a brick and mortar boutique for women, so the notion of being able to create something out of nothing and having complete control over the creative process is extremely inspiring for me. I give my heart and soul to the projects I’m a part of, so it makes me excited to think about doing my own thing one day!

In terms of the obstacles I face, I’ve always been an emotional person. So something, I tend to be more reactionary and don’t necessarily stop to think: “Why is this happening?” But as I’ve moved through my life, I’ve found that’s not always a great practice, to react and not calculate my actions more objectively.

However, I do have to say, in event planning this instinctual decision-making is pretty valuable, and sometimes it’s good to just make decisions based on emotion. But in the other moments when I want to be less reactionary and more thoughtful, I follow three basic princes: Write all my thoughts down, acknowledge emotion and find a way to funnel it appropriately and lean on instinct when appropriate.

In a more detailed approach, I have several steps I try to hold myself to when I’m using thoughtful decision making.

Write everything down on paper

Read through everything a few times in various different headspace. I then brainstorm, on my own, about what my ideas would look like when handling them in a certain situation.

I tend to think about who else this decision would affect and how it would affect them — looking at everything in an unbiased way from all angles and all perspectives.

Then, I ultimately chose to make a decision out of confidence based on this process.

Lastly, I evaluate any doubt and observe myself when I have any second-guessing of the choice I made.

What process(es) do you use to solve problems? Describe the steps of your problem-solving process. Explain your journey from inspiration to implementation.

My process is much like starting out with a puzzle. You can envision the big picture, but there are so many little pieces and there are times when you can get overwhelmed by the thought of where to even begin! However, as I’ve matured, I’ve learned how to not be paralyzed by the idea or where to start, but I allow myself to move through the chaos until a light-bulb eventually goes off. When trying to move through the beginnings of a creative process, I start by getting extremely organized — putting together calendar reminders, or organizing folders to keep my documents aligned and accessible usually help in this process.

It’s usually after I begin to feel confident in my organization of thoughts that, suddenly, the flood gates open and I immediately know where to go! I also tend to prioritize the most mission-critical things based on what the idea or project needs. I get those things done, and then I have more time to focus on the details that usually make the idea special.

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riichardwilson · 5 years ago

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How Can I Tell Whether My Business Ideas Are Good or Bad?

June 22, 2020 7 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

With an estimated 100 million new businesses launched globally each year, the chances of coming up with an entirely unique business idea literally become slimmer by the second. However, even if a similar product or service, you can still offer a unique experience that gives you an edge over your competitors.

Today’s challenges have forced businesses big and small to pivot and appeal to the new needs of their customers. Businesses that fail to clearly demonstrate value to their target consumers are destined to have short shelf lives. And in the economic downturn, reduced spending power means a business idea that might have worked a year ago may be less successful, or vice versa.

Rich Vogel, founding partner and CFO of Loeb.nyc believes aspiring founders need to find a balance between catering to consumers during the crisis and making sure their product will still be valuable five years from now. “New entrepreneurs should think about whether they are just starting a business for the problems of today, or whether the product will extend beyond the crisis. They have to understand the long term potential of their business.”

These four questions can help you assess if you truly have a lasting edge, and how best to use it to gain a definitive advantage over your competitors.

1. Am I solving a new problem?

As market dynamics change, you want to concentrate on where consumer needs are heading. Essentially, to use a hockey metaphor, you want to be skating toward where the puck is going, not to where the puck is right now. One of the perks of being a startup is that you’re more agile — you can pivot faster than big companies and shadow the movements of the puck more easily.

According to Accenture, consumer trends surfacing at the moment include people shopping more consciously, buying from local retailers and using digital tools to connect with one another. With these in mind, think about what difficulties customers might face — perhaps the cost of sustainable goods is too high, maybe local retailers don’t offer home deliveries or people have new doubts about privacy online.

To determine whether or not your product can offer a solution to one of these new problems, test yourself: Can you clearly explain your business idea and why it’s valuable in today’s market? If you’re struggling to articulate the value of your product, it might be because you haven’t yet made it fit snugly into a defined niche.

You can refine your business proposal by putting yourself in the shoes of your target market. Empathize with your potential customers, consider how your idea would improve their lives and whether people would miss it if it stopped existing. When it comes to articulating your business’s value to others, don’t be afraid to draw from your personal experience. You might want to explain your own journey and how the product has helped you through certain scenarios.

“Some of the best businesses were founded by people who really suffered a problem,” says Richard Singh, Executive Director of Growth at Loeb.nyc. “They ran into a wall and found a way around it.”

Related: Sign Up for Our Online Start Your Own Business Course Now

2. Am I solving an existing problem in a new way?

Some companies will gain a competitive advantage by tackling an existing problem with a novel approach. Many consumer problems that were around pre-quarantine still need to be addressed, but the way they expect businesses to do so may have changed.

For example, most consumers believe they will now have to reduce their spending on most goods. Pricing is a time-old pain point; you could solve this problem in a new way by bringing lower or more flexible pricing to the market without compromising on product quality. Already during the pandemic, pricing has been used to establish an advantage across multiple industries. Microsoft Office 365 E1 is free for six months, CTO Academy has reduced its annual subscription by over 80 percent and HubSpot cut package prices by up to 50 percent.

These discounts are boosting companies’ subscribers and positive exposure. While you may not be in a position to offer cheaper prices than your competitors so early on, you can set yourself apart by tiering prices or having “buffet style” options, where consumers get unlimited use of your product for a set amount.

Alternatively, you could switch up your business proposal and strategy to offer customers added value. You could move a traditionally offline product online or make your manufacturing and delivery processes more hygienic. An ethical approach is effective too: You could focus on renewable materials or supporting local SMEs in danger of going bust.

For business-to-business products, choosing who you pitch your solution to can be key to demonstrating its value. Multiple people are involved in a buying decision, and each may view the problem through a very different lens.

“Ask yourself who you’re solving the problem for,” says CEO of Straight Talk Consulting, Dan Wheatley. “The ultimate decision-maker may not be exposed to the same user problems as a mid-level executive, so consider reaching out to them separately.”

3. Do I have a head start?

Just because you have a solution doesn’t mean you have a head start against your competitors. You need to be able to pioneer your idea and, importantly, avoid others duplicating your model. It can mean becoming a market leader while everyone else is still figuring out a strategy.

Can your competitors easily catch up with your product, or will you be the only one with a working model for several months? If your core competitors are big, well-funded businesses, the development time will be much shorter, so you should focus your resources on refining development and production. Whatever the playing field looks like, you’ll want to protect your idea legally with an IP or trademark.

The longer you’ve been developing your idea, the better you can tailor it to be relevant, especially in the new normal. Vogel believes that adaptation is best implemented early on. He says, “You may find that while developing your product you realize that the world doesn’t need another X. The sooner you realize this, the more time it gives you to pivot.”

You should embrace the importance of continually validating results and garnering feedback (especially negative feedback) from the very start of your journey. Maybe you’ll gather enough data to discover that the solution you had for stay-at-home moms is also great for middle-aged men living under lockdown. Whatever research you have built up over time will become your best weapon in finding product/market fit in ever-changing waters.

Related: Sign Up for Our Online Start Your Own Business Course Now

4. Am I bringing something new to the table?

You — your network, personal journey and background — have unique value that your other competitors lack. If you need to draw out what gives you an edge, first ask yourself: Why am I the best person to bring this idea to life? What has prepared me for this moment?

Look at the experience, connections and resources you’ve built up over the years. Make a list of the people and tools you have that your rivals don’t. Start a conversation with them, update them about your product and harness their expertise to find the best way to break the mold and really innovate in the industry.

Tom Foster, CEO of plant-based protein company Beyond Meat, grew up on a farm and was familiar with suppliers and agriculture business. He also knew that climate was one of the biggest problems facing the world. Using his personal network and understanding of agricultural processes, he made vegan meat available on a mass scale. In less than 10 years, Beyond Meat was valued at over $10 billion.

Entrepreneurs who launch before fully recognizing their competitive advantage will struggle to gain real momentum. Start your journey by determining the unique value that only you can bring to consumers.

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/how-can-i-tell-whether-my-business-ideas-are-good-or-bad/ source https://scpie.tumblr.com/post/621678306342879232

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scpie · 5 years ago

Text

How Can I Tell Whether My Business Ideas Are Good or Bad?

June 22, 2020 7 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

These four questions can help you assess if you truly have a lasting edge, and how best to use it to gain a definitive advantage over your competitors.

1. Am I solving a new problem?

Related: Sign Up for Our Online Start Your Own Business Course Now

2. Am I solving an existing problem in a new way?

3. Do I have a head start?

Related: Sign Up for Our Online Start Your Own Business Course Now

4. Am I bringing something new to the table?

Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co

Delray Beach SEO

source http://www.scpie.org/how-can-i-tell-whether-my-business-ideas-are-good-or-bad/

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