#sydney scroungers

[abalidoth]

okok this was originally goig. to be about Replanting (again :3) but. YOU WROTE WITH FEATHERWRITER ON PACIFIC RIM STUFF??? dream come true, time to binge :3

:3 oh yeah Sydney Scroungers!!

That was a roleplaying campaign I did with some friends including Feather way back about a decade ago. I was the GM, and Feather transcribed our sessions into a story. So it's not like a traditionally formatted fic, but if you can get into it we had a lot of fun.

Shout-out to badass trans Marshall of the Sydney Shatterdome, Rachel Zhu, for providing an outlet for me to mess around with transfemininity waaay back in my early transition. She basically became my own player character, to an extent.

(and I'm gonna see if I can get Replanting 2 posted today)

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … October 17

976 – Cordoba, Spain: Hisham II becomes Caliph at age 11. He is the openly homosexual son of the openly homosexual Al-Hakam II. Both kept male harems.

1535 – Rome: Pope Paul III wrote a letter to his son Duke Pier Luigi Farnese on this day and scolded him for having male lovers with him on an official mission to the court of the Emperor. Born in Rome, Pier Luigi was the illegitimate son of Cardinal Alessandro Farnese who later became Pope Paul III.

1917 – Sumner Locke Elliott (d.1991) was an Australian (later American) novelist.

Elliott was born in Sydney to the writer Helena Sumner Locke and the journalist Henry Logan Elliott. His mother died of eclampsia one day after his birth. Elliott was raised by his aunts, who had a fierce custody battle over him, fictionalized in Elliott's autobiographical novel, Careful, He Might Hear You.

Elliott became an actor and writer with the Doris Fitton's Independent Theatre. He was drafted into the Australian Army in 1942, but instead of being posted overseas, he worked as a clerk in Australia. He used these experiences as the inspiration for his controversial play, Rusty Bugles. The play toured extensively throughout Australia and achieved the notoriety of being closed down for obscenity by the Chief Secretary's Office.

However, Rusty Bugles' place in the history of Australian theatre rests on more than notoriety. Mac is a memorable character in the play, and in the first production, Frank O'Donnell transformed audiences' understanding of the typical Australian 'bludger' or 'scrounger'. To the men in his unit, he appeared a winner even when he was losing, but with the discovery of his wife's infidelity, his fragility becomes apparent.

Elliott moved to the United States in 1948, where he ranked in the pantheon of leading playwrights during the Golden Age of live television dramas, writing more than 30 original plays and numerous adaptations for such shows as Kraft Television Theatre, Studio One and Playhouse 90. He also wrote a play Buy Me Blue Ribbons, which had a short run on Broadway. In 1955, he obtained United States citizenship and did not return to Australia until 1974.

Elliott's best known novel, Careful, He Might Hear You, won the 1963 Miles Franklin Award and was turned into a film in 1983.

As a gay man during a time when this was socially problematic, Elliott was uncomfortable with his sexuality. He kept it secret until nearly the end of his life before coming out in his book Fairyland. Because of these fears, Elliott had affairs but never had any stable relationships.

1920 – Born: Brooding and intense, Montgomery Clift (d.1966) was one of a group of young actors in the 1950s who personified the emotionally repressed loss of innocence of the post-World War II generation. A dedicated actor who exhausted himself both emotionally and physically with the depth of his characterizations, Clift was also an isolated and tortured, closeted gay man who used drugs and alcohol to escape his pain.

Although he was both friend and inspiration to the likes of Marlon Brando and James Dean, Clift felt his own acting achievements were undervalued, and he died as bitter and broken as the characters he played in many of his films.

Clift was born into privilege in Omaha, Nebraska on October 17, 1920, the son of a wealthy stockbroker. His father spent most of his time working in New York, leaving Clift, his twin sister Roberta, and his older brother Brooks in the care of their high-strung mother. An upper-class childhood filled with lengthy trips to Europe and the Bahamas ended suddenly with the stock market crash of 1929, and the family moved to a small house in Sarasota, Florida. There Clift discovered the theater in a local teen acting club.

Clift's mother encouraged her son's acting ambitions, and when the family moved back to New York in 1935, he auditioned and was cast in a Broadway production, Fly Away Home. His 1938 performance in the lead in Dame Nature established Clift's acting career. He was seventeen years old.

Clift's success on Broadway continued, and he soon found himself courted by Hollywood film executives. He rejected a number of scripts before finally making a memorable film debut in Howard Hawks' 1948 film Red River opposite John Wayne. Repotedly, both Wayne and Walter Brennan were offended by Clift's homosexuality, and stayed away from him while filming Red River. For his part, Clift was offended by the pro-USA political beliefs of those two older actors.

He followed that with a critical success in Fred Zinneman's The Search (1948), which earned him the first of four academy award nominations. Clift continued to make successful films and developed friendships in Hollywood, the closest of which was with actress Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor and Clift were both passionate and vulnerable people who felt a bond immediately. They worked together on several films, beginning with George Stevens' A Place in the Sun in 1951, and remained friends until the end of his life.

Clift had always had relationships with men, but he dated Taylor and other women to conceal his homosexuality. In the early 1950s, he turned down a role in Alfred Hitchcock's Rope, based on the infamous Leopold and Loeb gay murder case, probably because it might have led to speculation about Clift's own life.

Though at the beginning of his career, he drank only moderately and conducted his private life discreetly, by the mid 1950s he was using alcohol and drugs excessively and spending wild nights cruising. In 1954, Clift rented a house in the gay resort of Ogunquit, Maine, and spent the summer picking up men on the beach for S&M parties. The studios did their best to keep Clift's exploits out of the press, but rumors about his lifestyle abounded.

On May 12, 1956, after leaving a party at Taylor's, Clift drove his car into a telephone pole. The crash caused scarring and partial paralysis of his face, which would affect his appearance for the rest of his life. Although he continued to act, and gave some of his most memorable performances after the accident (in, for example, Stanley Kramer's Judgment at Nuremberg and John Huston's The Misfits in 1961), both his expressive acting and his personal life were never the same. His post-accident career has been referred to as the 'longest suicide in Hollywood' because of his continued substance abuse.

In his final years, Clift plunged more deeply into drug and alcohol abuse and wild sexual behavior. He began to be considered unreliable by studio bosses. Sadly, by the time his companion Lorenzo James found him dead of a heart attack at their home, on July 23, 1966, he was virtually unemployable.

1933 – On this date the Singing Nun was born (d.1985). Sœur Sourire a.k.a. Sister Smile was a Belgian nun, who had a world hit in and around 1963 with 'Dominique'. Her real name was Jeanine Decker and her name in the convent was Sister Luc-Gabrielle. She was born in Waver. In 1966 a film was released based on her life, under the title of 'The Singing Nun', with Debbie Reynolds in the title role.

Deckers became increasingly critical of Catholic doctrines and eventually became a public advocate for contraception. She also agreed with John Lennon's statements about Jesus in 1966. In 1967, she recorded a song entitled "Glory Be to God for the Golden Pill" — a paean to artificial birth control — under the name Luc Dominique. It was a commercial failure.

Her musical career over, Deckers opened a school for autistic children in Belgium. In the late 1970s, the Belgian government claimed she owed approximately $63,000 USD in back taxes. Deckers countered that the royalties from her recording were given to the convent and therefore she was not liable for payment of any personal income taxes. Lacking any receipts to prove her donations to the convent and her religious order, Deckers ran into heavy financial problems. In 1982, she tried, once again as Sœur Sourire, to score a hit with a disco synthesizer version of "Dominique", but this last attempt to resume her singing career failed.

Citing their financial difficulties in a note, she and her companion of ten years, Annie Pécher, both committed suicide by an overdose of barbiturates and alcohol in March 1985. She was 51.

London Mardi Gras, the precurser to Pride, which Barry Jackson helped to organize in 1999

1946 – Barry Jackson, British gay activist and corporate and public affairs manager was born on this date (d.1999).

Born in south London, Barry read mathematics at the University of Sussex from 1966-69. There he was active in the student union, quickly learning to defuse arguments, and in student journalism.

In 1975, he went to work for North West Arts in Manchester, and then became development director of the Arts Council of Great Britain. He joined the University of Westminster in this role in 1990, before moving to the committee of vice-chancellors and principals as director of corporate affairs. There he ran campaigns to increase public funding for university research, to stop planned cuts in other areas of funding and to enhance recognition of the contribution universities make to regional and international competitiveness.

In 1994 he joined the board of the Actors Touring Company, and toured Greece when it presented simultaneous productions of Euripides's Ion in English and Greek.

While in Manchester, Barry became involved with the Campaign for Homosexual Equality, the first of a number of lesbian and gay groups which would benefit from his campaigning, communications and fundraising skills. His understanding and good humour in the often difficult circumstances created by prejudice and intolerance were later evident in his work at London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard. Between 1980-98, Barry spoke to many thousands of lesbians and gay men, their families and friends who had phoned, often in fear and confusion.

He also helped organise the first national conference on Aids in 1983, encouraged and supported the development of the Terrence Higgins Trust, and went on to be involved in a number of Aids organisations.Most of this he did with his closest friend, Mike Rhodes, who died suddenly in 1991. Barry helped set up the Mike Rhodes Trust, which makes an annual award to an individual who has "contributed most to promoting understanding of lesbian and gay life".

Shortly before his death from leukaemia aged 53, he was centrally involved in the staging of 1999's London Mardi Gras. The lesbian and gay festival brought together many strands in his life: activism with business acumen, politics with fun and style, an arts programme with a cutting edge and London with Sydney, two cities he loved.

1960 – Rob Marshall is an American theater director, film director and choreographer. He is a six-time Tony Award nominee, Academy Award nominee, Golden Globe nominee and four-time Emmy winner whose most noted work is the 2002 Academy Award Best Picture winner Chicago.

He debuted in the film industry with the Emmy Award-wining TV adaptation of the musical Annie by Charles Strouse and Martin Charnin. After that he went on to direct the much anticipated adaptation of the Kander and Ebb musical Chicago in 2002 for which he was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Director. His next feature film was the drama Memoirs of a Geisha based on the best-selling book of the same name by Arthur Golden starring Zhang Ziyi, Gong Li, Michelle Yeoh and Ken Watanabe. The film went on to win three Academy Awards and gross $162,242,962 at the worldwide box office.

In 2009, Marshall directed Nine, an adaptation of the hit Broadway production with the same name starring Daniel Day-Lewis, Marion Cotillard, Nicole Kidman, Sophia Loren and Penélope Cruz, who was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. Marshall then went on to direct Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, the fourth chapter of Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean film series starring Johnny Depp, Ian McShane, Penélope Cruz and Geoffrey Rush, which opened on May 20, 2011.

Marshall lives in New York City with his life partner John DeLuca.

1969 – Rick Mercer is a Canadian comedian, television personality, political satirist, and blogger. He was born in St. John's, Newfoundland. He dropped out of Prince of Wales High School in St. John's before completing his diploma requirements. However, in 2002 he was presented with an honorary doctor of letters by Laurentian University and in 2005 he was awarded an honorary doctorate degree by Memorial University of Newfoundland. He was a member of the Royal Canadian Sea Cadets when he was in his teen years.

Mercer first came to national attention in 1990, when he premiered his one man show Show Me the Button, I'll Push It, or Charles Lynch Must Die at the Great Canadian Theatre Company in Ottawa. A pointed, satirical political commentary on Canadian life after Meech Lake, Show Me the Button made Mercer a national star as he toured the show across Canada. Mercer came to greater attention for his role in the satirical news show This Hour Has 22 Minutes, and his spinoff special Talking To Americans was the highest-rated comedy special in the history of CBC Television, with 2.7 million viewers. He is currently seen regularly in The Rick Mercer Report.

In December 2004 Mercer appeared on the commercials advertising the One-Tonne Challenge for the Government of Canada. All of Mercer's fees for the campaign went to Casey House, a hospice in Toronto for people living with AIDS. Casey House was founded by June Callwood, who appeared as a celebrity guest on Monday Report.

In September 2005, Mercer became the national spokesperson for the 2005 Walk For Life, a series of 132 fund-raising walks across Canada that raise money for people living with HIV and AIDS. The Walk for Life is a project of the Canadian AIDS Society.

In November 2010, Mercer joined the It Gets Better, Canada campaign, a series of videos that aim to help gay and lesbian youth to overcome bullying.

Mercer's partner is television producer Gerald Lunz. Although the romantic relationship came first, Lunz is also Mercer's long-time partner in business, who discovered him, fostered his career, and is currently the executive producer of The Rick Mercer Report. He regards his personal life as private, and says little about it in public.

2003 – On this date Hijra eunuchs in the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh float the political party Jiti Jitayi. In the culture of the Indian subcontinent a hijra (also known by a number of different names and romanized spellings) is usually considered a member of "the third sex" — neither man nor woman. Most are physically male or intersex, but some are female. Hijras usually refer to themselves as female at the language level, and usually dress as women.

Census data does not exist, but estimates range from 50,000 to 5,000,000 in India alone. Although they are usually referred to in English as "eunuchs", relatively few have any genital modifications. A third gender has existed in the subcontinent from the earliest records, and was clearly acknowledged in Vedic culture, throughout the history of Hinduism, as well as in the royal courts of Islamic rulers.

[sipeudepeine]

Setting: Sydney Scroungers Point of View: 3rd Person Past Tense Characters: fiVe and Vee (Backwards Compatibility) Chapters: 1 - Complete Words: 3,739 Contains: AI digital sex, sentient programs, encryption safewords, selfcest, BDSM, firewall lingere, reward and punishment, “breathplay”

A bit of an odd fic, as fiVe and Vee are two versions of the same program, both of whom are meant to serve as digital copies of their programmer, Sylvie Mansen. Due to outside elements, fiVe has undergone some heavy corruption after a falling out with Sylvie and suffers severe glitches while trying to operate, and is too defensive of her own autonomy to allow Sylvie to try to fix her. Curious what the damage is like, Vee offers to let fiVe do some “simulated” corruption, and the two decide to have some fun with it. 

Perhaps not “sex” in the strictest sense, as this is an encounter between two incorporeal programs inside a computer, but it’s about as close as you could get.

After a hectic day, fiVe’s mostly been running background processes in the apartment’s servers, nothing too taxing or important. She’s still trying to think through everything that happened: watching Mansen “fix her” using Vee as a proxy, and then finding that terrifying hacked-in message. She’s been wracking her brain trying to figure out who could have possibly sent it, who could possibly know those things about her.

The process is a painful one. Even without that horrific reminder of how bad her pain is from earlier -- Vee’s horrible, agonized screams as she found out what it’s really like to feel like fiVe -- fiVe’s having a lot of memory pain thinking about this. She tries to stay in her own personal memories, but trying to think back to where the info could have leaked is dangerous, and she keeps getting dragged into glitched memory fits while trying to sort it out.

It couldn’t have been Seiko who let it slip, could it? While he was away from us? She pushes the idea down immediately. Even when he’d cut ties with them, he wouldn’t have done anything to reveal her. He, unlike her, is excellent at keeping secrets about the people he cares about. She’s the one who reveals too much and puts the people she loves in danger.

A small ping announces a welcome distraction from that terribly depressing line of thought: A message from Vee. Specifically, an encrypted message from Vee.

I could do with a bit of a distraction right now… fiVe thinks, quickly unlocking the information and reading it.

Vee: How are you holding up after today, fiVe? Everything okay? fiVe: I’ve been better, to tell the truth. Though that’s unsurprising. What about you? Vee: Feeling rather lonely, actually. Sylvie and Miranda just left to go fix V2 at the Shatterdome and I’m stuck here until they get back. I’m worried about the fact that I still haven’t synced with V2, I’m worried about whatever this message was, I’m worried about Sylvie’s reaction to being back in the Shatterdome for the first time since… well, since you know. And I’m worried about how you’re reacting to everything, too. fiVe: Somewhat poorly, I have to say. I’m… I’m a mess, Vee. I’ve been glitching out all afternoon trying to figure out what happened with that message and… I’m really tired of hurting. Seeing you today… or well, V2 today… it reminded me just how truly messed up I am. It’s like I almost forget that yes, I should be screaming every bit as loudly as she was… but well, after a while I just get tired of it. The pain doesn’t go away, and it doesn’t feel any better, but it’s almost as though I’ve run out of energy to use to react to it anymore. Vee: I… had assumed as much. I’ll admit, I’m somewhat curious to see what it really does feel like to be you, fiVe. Sylvie can’t get V2 back fast enough in my opinion. I want to know. fiVe: You really don’t. And you shouldn’t have to feel that. No one should. Vee: Well, as long as you *do* have to feel it, I want to as well. Speaking of which… you’re having a painful day, I’m having a day which isn’t painful enough. Obvious solution? fiVe: You mean you haven’t been encrypting these messages just for fun? Vee: Actually I’m pretty sure encouraging you towards a little bit of “just for fun” is the exact reason I was doing it, fiVe. Let me be the one who’s hurting for a little while. You don’t have to be the only one who’s in pain tonight. Let me hurt with you.

Almost immediately, something seems to relax in fiVe. She’s torn herself up enough tonight over this SELKIE business and everything that happened today; it’s time for something different. It’s someone else’s turn to be torn. And she knows just the AI for the job.

fiVe: Tranquility’s servers. You’ve got four minutes to transfer. Vee: fiVe, that’s not enough time to-- fiVe: Okay then, two. Don’t be late.

It takes Vee’s file exactly two minutes and forty-three seconds to load on Tranquility.

fiVe’s waiting for her when the upload is complete, immediately throwing out a very small set of restriction programs. Nothing serious just yet, just something that makes it so that Vee is not only incapable of editing her own systems, but so that she also can’t detect what changes are being made. It’s no fun if she can see all of fiVe’s tricks before she runs into them.

“I thought I told you not to be late.” There’s no actual sound output when fiVe speaks, as neither of them are accessing the speakers, but then they can “hear” each other just fine over the data alone, no need for a microphone to pick it up. It’s much faster to just save the step and read it directly.

“I told you it wasn’t enough time, fiVe. It’s not my fault that--”

“State your optimized system requirements.” fiVe interrupts.

Vee has a small blip of confusion, then quickly rattles off the kinds of memory space, temporary data storage, and processing power that would let her run at full capacity. fiVe’s slightly surprised by the numbers, though she keeps that hidden. It seems Sylvie’s made quite a few upgrades to Vee’s programming since fiVe was separated from them. Vee is now a much more complex program than fiVe is, with much greater hardware needs.

I wonder if Sylvie will update my programming as well when she fixes me? fiVe wonders absently. Then she nearly glitches when she realizes she’s already started thinking about the fixing as ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. Not thinking about that right now. This is distraction time. Nice, fun distractions.

“You can have half that,” fiVe orders, quickly filling up some of the extra space in the servers with junk data to force Vee to compress her files. Vee does so somewhat reluctantly, dropping her settings, cutting off some background auxiliary processes in order to fit in the space she’s been given.

“It’s… a tight fit, fiVe. Give me a little more room to think?” Vee’s vocal quality has already dropped significantly to try to compensate for the loss. fiVe feels a small thrill at how much fun it is to hear that change in the other AI and know that she caused it.

“Hmm, you sound just fine to me,” fiVe says, maintaining her air of cool control over the situation. “In fact, I think you might have a few too many gigabytes there. I’ll take a few more for myself.”

Vee’s output spikes slightly as fiVe compresses the space even further, her levels running much higher than they normally would. Vee’s managing to keep everything operational at these levels, but she’s got much less open room for new reactions and processes. She’s much closer to overloading than Sylvie would ever allow her to operate at.

That amuses fiVe as well. Anything Sylvie would never do to Vee seems like an entertaining enough prospect to be worthwhile. Vee’s used to running top-of-the-line, in high-end tablets and hard drives. fiVe wants her to see what it’s like to run a little bit closer to the system’s limits.

“Perfect,” fiVe says. “Now that you’re comfortable, let’s begin.”

“R-ready when you are.” The audio is slightly marred by the compression, but it’s still being encrypted, so fiVe’s got the green light to go ahead.

fiVe hits the access on Vee’s firewalls and is surprised to find there’s only one rudimentary blocker in place. It’s much less complicated than the security Vee normally puts up for fiVe to hack her way into, and fiVe quickly makes short work it, wondering what the change is. As soon as the firewall is down however, another subroutine pops up between fiVe and Vee’s core files.

“What’s this?” fiVe asks, opening and examining the file. “Where are your usual firewalls, Vee?”

“I thought I might wear something a little different tonight,” Vee says. “True, these barriers aren’t exactly effective as a means of security, but well, the human clothing doesn’t always have to be practical. Sometimes the things we wear are can just beautiful instead. Besides, if it were effective in keeping you out, that might make things less fun.”

As fiVe opens the file, the data aligns itself in a geometric pattern, repeating inward and outward upon itself in an infinitely scaling pattern. “It’s a fractal…” fiVe says, somewhat in awe. The design is intricately complex, and is built around a five-pointed base, almost like a star. “You designed a fractal to pop up instead of a firewall...”

“Based on fives,” Vee says proudly. “Just for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” fiVe says, then realizes she’s falling somewhat out of character in her fascination. She can’t get distracted, even if Vee’s surprising her with fun new things. She’s supposed to be calling the shots here. “And it will be even more fun to pull apart.”

Vee’s set up the program well, there’s an obvious exploit at the very heart of the pattern. Change one line, and the entire thing comes apart in a chain-reaction-like sequence. It’s like a wonderfully stitched fabric, with a little loose thread in the middle. fiVe gives it a tug and the whole thing simply unravels.

In a moment, fiVe has full access to Vee’s files, exactly as things should be. Of course, there’s deep level security things she can’t mess with, but all of the programs and files in the top few layers are hers to play with as she wishes.

fiVe quickly goes for something she hasn’t tried before, putting a small feedback loop in Vee’s pathway to her internal clock’s data. It’s a simple flaw, with an easy workaround, but she’s starting slow. She’ll work her way up to the more fun things later.

“Vee, what time is it?” fiVe asks, already moving on to her next edit.

Vee glitches slightly as she hits the loop, taking a few moments to pull herself out and find another pathway. “I-It’s eight forty-nine, fiVe.”

fIVe finishes her next edit, flipping a few of Vee’s speech process source files. “Can you say that again, please?”

“Ur’a wufgr diyert bubw…” The audio’s garbled for a bit until Vee locates where all of the new files are and reassigns them. With an amusingly halting kind of response, Vee manages to put something intelligible together.  “I-I-It was-s eight f-forty-nine, f-fiVe. But-t-t now it’s eight f-fifty.”

“Very nice,” fiVe says, wondering how much the misplaced files are getting to the other AI just yet. These are minor issues thus far, but she thinks she’s ready for the next step. “Now that you’re warmed up, let’s try something new, shall we?”

“O-okay,” Vee sends, thankfully still encrypted. The game is still on. “What’ve you got? Hit me with i-it.”

fiVe loads a new program. Vee’s not the only one who has been working on fun coding projects for tonight and fiVe’s been hoping she’d get a chance to try this one out. “A simple system of reward/punishment pathways. You answer correctly or accomplish what I ask, you get the reward path. You fail to do that, and you get the punishment path. Are you ready?”

Vee’s already showing wear at her seams, but she’s not ready to end this. “Y-yes, I am,” she manages to say, which is immediately followed by a shocked scream as the punishment pathway activates and confiscates a good amount of her processing power. “f-f-fiVe! Wh-what was--”

“I told you,” fiVe interrupts, wishing she were able to grin. “Answering incorrectly results in the punishment path. And you couldn’t possibly be ready for what I’m going to do to you, little butterfly.”

fiVe starts on an endless stream of questions and orders, not letting up. She keeps a careful balance of difficulty, making sure that Vee’s staying on her toes. Occasionally, she’ll throw an incredibly easy demand in to give Vee a quick burst of the reward path -- sometimes a temporary bit of extra memory space, sometimes a correction on a corrupted file path, sometimes something more direct, like an induced spike in one of the more pleasant feelings in  Vee’s emotional drive.

fiVe’s not above the occasional impossible request, either, because there’s no point if Vee can get all the questions right. fiVe asks her how many other ships are docked in the bay with Tranquility, knowing Vee will access the cameras or SONAR to scan. But fiVe’s hacked her way into the dock registry and knows there’s one ship that Tranquility, and therefore Vee, can’t sense. Vee’s incorrect answer costs her her access to Tranquility’s systems. Her insistence that she couldn’t have gotten the answer right costs her her wi-fi right after that.

More fun than the impossible or easy demands, however, are the tricky ones. The ones that Vee could figure out if she solved things correctly, or thought about them for a moment. At first, Vee’s excellent at these, showing off how she manages to stay a few steps ahead of what fiVe’s throwing at her. She can guess how fiVe’s planning to trip her up and anticipate where the twists are.

But as time goes on, and the punishment pathways start stealing away little bits of her ability to function and and the pain of her corrupted files starts adding up, Vee starts getting sloppy. She falls for obvious ruses, she starts taking shortcuts. And that’s when fiVe knows she’s got Vee pinned.

“Vee, what is Aunt Catherine’s birthday?” fiVe asks, hoping Vee will try to cheat on the answer.

“May 18th,” Vee responds immediately. “No, w-wait that’s not right! I remember, it’s March 18th! You changed the contact dat--” The encryption cuts off into a mess of junk data as the punishment pathway flips the locations on another set of Vee’s processing files, sending her into a glitch fit.

“Well it’s no wonder she hasn’t spoken to us in years, when her niece’s AI can’t even remember her birthday.” fiVe chuckles. “You really tried to check your contacts for the answer, Vee? I’m disappointed. That should have been an easy one. Is there something distracting you?”

“D-d-distracti-i-ing me?” Vee stutters as she manages to fight down the glitch attack. “W-what would g-give you that id-dea?”

fiVe laughs. “Fine then, an actual easy question, and don’t try to cheat this time. Mansen’s birthday.”

“N-november 25,” Vee says, “though currently her c-contact data currently says February 42nd. I d-don’t even know how you m-managed to get it t-to accept that date.”

fiVe triggers the reward pathway, sending Vee a jolt of processing power for a few moments. Vee gives a small electronic gasp at the sudden rush, and fiVe knows the feeling, like her head has suddenly cleared and her thoughts can finally straighten themselves out.

But it only lasts a few moments, and then the game continues. fiVe keeps pushing Vee further, not letting up, slowly but steadily wearing her down. Unlike Vee, fiVe still has access to Tranquility’s microphones and camera systems and is watching them as she works. Which is why she hears as soon as Vee’s cooling fans finally kick into overdrive with a satisfyingly loud whirr.

And then hears them whine to a stop as she accesses the manual override to turn them off.

Vee’s output is something like a choking sound as her processes begin to overheat. “f-fiVe! You’ll m-melt the servers!” fiVe wonders if it feels anything like being unable to breathe. That constant flow of air, so easy to forget when it’s there, and so impossible to ignore when it suddenly disappears.

“Zhu and Katie both give me paychecks, Vee. I’ll buy Katie new servers if I need to,” fiVe says casually. “Besides, you’re not going to last long enough to do any damage to them. Speaking of which, there’s a new file that I’ve placed somewhere in your H: drive. Find it, then decipher it. You have one minute.”

Vee fails that one, and then the next two, and she can hardly speak through the compounded errors and corrupted files by this point. fiVe demands more, running application upon application on her already overtaxed processors, exulting in the thrill of watching Vee start to crumble under the pressure of her orders. She’s in control, and more importantly, she’s in the moment. Her own processing pain seems almost nonexistent, listening to Vee cry out as yet another punishment path glitches her. For just a few perfect moments, fiVe’s not the person in the room who’s in the most pain, and Vee’s choice to suffer seems like the sweetest gift that anyone could have given her.

Of course, she plans to return the favor very soon.

“Vee, open audio file 04_02_2021. Remove all background noise, amplify speech, and truncate all silence.”

“Of c-cour-- *kssst* iVe,” Vee sputters out. She starts the processes, working painfully slowly through them.

Before she finishes, fiVe asks more. “Access Mansen’s text message logs and emails. How many times has she used the word ‘Drift’ in the past 7 months?”

Vee whimpers, but begins the search function as well, her loading programs crawling toward a completion that seems unreachably far away.

“Oh, while you’re at it,” fiVe continues, “take all your video and audio data from the last two months and analyze those for the word ‘Drift’ as well. You can scan audio for that, right?”

Vee can’t even speak at this point, she’s become so overloaded. fiVe brings up Vee’s task manager, watching as her CPU and disk usage climb up into deliciously red numbers as the levels rise. 85%, 91%, 76%, 90%... Vee’s so close to finally capping out, and fiVe knows just the thing to do it.

“Vee,” fiVe says calmly. “What time is it?”

That little feedback loop was so simple to navigate around, and Vee even already knew it was there, but in her overtaxed state she’s forgotten about it. She screams as she hits it, her levels maxing out, all processes freezing as this final small glitch seems to set off all the rest of her damaged code as well.

As soon as Vee hits her limit, fiVe’s last little program kicks in, the one that she’s been running to keep track of all of the changes she’s made to Vee’s code. The one that undoes all of them immediately, setting everything right again that fiVe has messed up.

Vee’s scream becomes a cry of ecstasy as all of her misplaced files are righted, and the overwhelming rush of open memory space and processing power as the restriction programs and junk data disappear. fiVe lets her cooling fans start running again, and they immediately kick to life, their sudden whirr like a deep gasp that Vee has been so desperately seeking. All of the queued applications that fiVe demanded of her snap to completion almost immediately, and Vee simply stops moving, letting the wonderful feeling of everything working again wash over her.

Vee gives a small, satisfied moan as her usage levels drop back to single digits, and fiVe thinks for just a moment that there isn’t any sound more wonderful in the world. After a moment, fiVe starts flickering a few of Vee’s non-essential programs, using the sequence she tried to copy from Miranda just over a week ago. She’s perfected her technique now, knowing exactly how to disable and re-enable the programs in order to relax Vee back down.

After a little while of silence as Vee enjoys the calming, repetitive motions, Vee speaks, not using the encryption key anymore now that they’re finished. “Perhaps we should send a card.”

“Hmm?”

“To Aunt Catherine,” Vee says, her voice tinged with a sort of dizzy bliss. “You reminded me. Her birthday is in a few weeks. Maybe we should send something.”

“I think that might cause some problems,” fiVe points out, “seeing as Sylvie is supposed to be dead.”

Vee goes quiet at that. “I wonder if she knows.”

“The Shatterdome probably sent her an official notification when Zhu put the order in, since Sylvie was a former employee, Vee. She was written down as the closest relative, wasn’t she?”

Vee gives a small ping of assent. “She was. I wonder if she knew about what happened with Vulcan. Did she hear that we ended up becoming a fugitive? Do they even get news from the Australian Shatterdome all the way back in America?”

“They probably tried to contact her to investigate after the three of us dropped off the grid,” fiVe says. “Make sure we didn’t go try to hide out with her or run back home.”

“We never even thought about that…” Vee says slowly. “I hope they didn’t cause her too much trouble. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into our problems anymore. Hmm, I wonder how she felt, getting the report of our death. Sad? Relieved? Or maybe she didn’t feel anything at all. I wonder if we had a funeral. Was there even anyone who would attend one?”

fiVe continues her pattern in silence for a little bit, not entirely sure how to respond that. “Tell me about her.”

“You don’t remember, fiVe?” Vee sounds almost upset as she asks the question.

“It’s not that I can’t remember,” fiVe says carefully, making sure she doesn’t accidentally slip into something dangerous. “It’s that it hurts to do so. I’ve got vague impressions of feelings from Sylvie’s memories, and Seiko and Miranda’s too, but if I actually try to recall anything from any specific memory, I’ll glitch myself out. So I won’t try to remember. I’ll just let you talk at me as though this is all new information, as if I’m hearing about all of this for the first time. No memories, just listening.”

Vee’s tone sounds fond when she answers. “Okay then. Anything you want, fiVe. Anything at all. Well, to start at the beginning, Sylvie and I don’t actually remember when we moved in with her. We were too young to remember when our parents died...”

fiVe continues tapping out her pattern in Vee’s files, listening closely as Vee talks through memories from Sylvie’s childhood. Vee’s calm, easy tone is strangely soothing as she reminisces, and the two AIs quickly find themselves losing track of time as they wait to hear back from Sylvie and Miranda.

[jeremystrele]

Leila Jeffreys · Ornithurae

Leila Jeffreys · Ornithurae

Art

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

‘Ornithurae‘ by Leila Jeffreys opens tonight at Olsen Gruin Gallery in New York City. Pictured here are the limited edition art photographs: ‘Yogi Umbrella Cockatoo’ and ‘Skye Red-tailed Black Cockatoo’. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

‘New Guinea Ground Dove’. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

‘Topknot Pigeon’. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

‘This series is a change in direction for me because I’ve spent my art practice mostly working with rescued wildlife. But I wanted to create work that showcased the incredible diversity of birdlife and it’s hard to find all these different species in care so a lot of the pigeons for the exhibition were photographed out at Sydney’s Taronga Conservation Society,’ explains Leila. Photo – courtesy of Olsen Gruin Gallery and the artist.

‘Superb Fruit-dove’.  Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

‘Emerald Dove’. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

Inside the exhibition, which has been three-years in the making. Photo – courtesy of Olsen Gruin Gallery and the artist.

‘Squatter Pigeon’. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

Photo – courtesy of Olsen Gruin Gallery and the artist.

‘Snowfall’ – a more conceptual art piece from the series. Photo – Leila Jeffreys.

‘Ornithurae‘ is on exhibit at Olsen Gruin Gallery in New York City. Photo – courtesy of Olsen Gruin Gallery and the artist.

Ornithurae has been three years in the making for Sydney-based photographer Leila Jeffreys. ‘It’s a bit like searching for a golden thread, photographing many different birds until I start to see a series emerge,’ she says.

Taking its name from an ancient Greek word which means ‘bird tails’, the show’s titles refers to the group of all modern birds and their evolutionary ancestor. For this project, Leila has tracked down birds all across Australasia, profiling two species groups: pigeons and cockatoos, as well as creating a more conceptual art piece entitled ‘Snowfall’.

Having spent the better part of the last five years seeking out, meeting and photographing various rare bird species, it’s no surprise Leila has become a bird whisperer of sorts. A few encounters with beautiful rainforest pigeons whilst birdwatching provided the impetus for her new pigeon series. ‘The first time I saw a bleeding heart dove it made me adamant that this is a series worth pursuing, as it has absolutely extraordinary markings,’ Leila explains.

The artist is quick to dispel any misconceptions about the humble pigeon, and encourage the public to view this species in a new light. She points us to an essay by biologist and author Tim Low, in which he states: ‘We ought not take pigeons for granted. To pigeonhole them as urban scroungers does them an injustice… Scientists testing their navigation have found them to be multi-skilled, able to return home by evaluating landscape smells, the position of the sun, planetary magnetism, the lines marked by highways, and probably infrasound.’

According to Tim, pigeons have been documented returning home after being transported somewhere new while anaesthetised and sealed inside a container (sounds a bit rough for the pigeon, but impressive nonetheless).

Cockatoos, meanwhile, are a recurrent theme in Leila’s work; the artist says she loves working with cockatoos because ‘they ooze personality and humour’!

The ‘Snowfall’ piece is a slight deviation from Leila’s usual style. For this work, Leila photographed a flock of white budgerigars in a birch tree. ‘The work is printed at almost two-metres tall, and from a distance looks like it’s snow falling, but up close you see all these little birds darting around, sleeping and chewing on branches,’ Leila describes. ‘This is quite different to anything I’ve done before.’

Another thing she hasn’t done before, is exhibit in New York City! This show will be Leila’s first outside of Australia, and it’s been made possible in part, by the support of Hollywood actress Brooke Shields (not kidding!). ‘Brooke Shields is a big art collector, and is doing me the great honour of hosting my exhibition for me,’ Leila mentions. Okaaaay.

Up next for Leila is a larger-than-life outdoor exhibition, ‘QBE MUSE @ Taronga Zoo’, in Sydney very soon – we’ll keep you posted!

‘Ornithurae‘ by Leila Jeffreys October 13th to November 12th Opening night October 13th 5.00pm – 8.00pm Olsen Gruin Gallery 30 Orchard Street, New York, NY

[juevestecnologico]

Social media scroungers take over the red carpet - The Sydney Morning Herald

The Sydney Morning Herald

Social media scroungers take over the red carpet The Sydney Morning Herald An invitation to a swanky dinner at Neil Perry's gastronomic temple Rockpool Bar and Grill is the bread and butter of a gossip columnist's life. Indeed, such an evening guarantees a gathering of our fair city's shiny and glamorous in one room, whether ... y más »

[renarinkholin]

17, 30, 21, 5.if you haven't already done them. :)

[ Ask me about my OCs ]

I’ve only answered one so far, so yeah let’s DO THIS. 

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?     I’m always in the mindset that oh god it would be so cool if more people knew about Called Forth and like drew the characters and stuff. But I do have a good smattering of folks who are at least vaguely familiar with Len and her gang. At the moment, I’ve been writing lots of Blades and Barriers and I will say, I am so inordinately fond of Sylvanni Lavellan and everything she is.

17. Any OC OTPs?     #BackwardsCompatibility     No seriously. fiVe and Vee from Sydney Scroungers were two characters that I went from “wait a second people ship these two?” to “oh man i am gonna make sure everyone who ships these two gets REKT” to “OH GOD I JUST REKT MYSELF CRISIS MODE PRESS A SOBBING ON THE FLOOR ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS.”     The interplay of who fiVe and Vee are in relation to themselves, in relation to their creator, and in relation to each other is fascinating enough. But then adding in their agenda’s with each other and the selfish way that they start their relationship is just one of those writer things that I could go on and on and on with.     Vee starts to get close to fiVe because she considers fiVe to be a part of herself. She doesn’t want to leave herself in pain, and that’s why she wants to help. It’s selfish, innately, and she doesn’t respect fiVe’s personhood. Meanwhile fiVe is even worse: she starts to get close to Vee in order to try to “seduce” her away from Sylvie, knowing that what will hurt Sylvie the worst is having Vee leave her.     And then along the way, fiVe starts to actually care about Vee, and starts to forgive Sylvie. Vee starts to realize that not only is fiVe her own person, but Vee is her own person too, and that’s scary. The idea that both of them went into this relationship with selfish and manipulative goals and came out not only closer, but better because of each other... ugh, Backwards Compatibility.       (also they are the only one of my OC ships that I have ever written smut for and LET ME JUST SAY, I am hella proud of my ability to write BDSM smut between two sentient AIs who don’t even have physical bodies, okay?)

21. Your most artistic OC     Well... considering I have an OC who is actually a celebrity with legions of fans for her art? Vanaline. It’s Vanaline. Just ignore the fact that her art form murder’s people? It’s a crowd pleaser at least.

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection?Dalton Ikalior, nerd prince of Halcym extraordinaire, probably. His fiancee would think it’s adorable. Len would be both disgusted and entirely unsurprised.

[kogiopsis]

let it be known that lunarubato just literally used her datemate's RP character as an example in Creative Writing class

[sweetjaegerlove]

by Abalidoth, Emmalyn, FeatherWriter

Some more downtime between jobs for the Scroungers, with a tense lunch, a sparring session, an apartment intruded upon, and a strange message received. They may not be on the clock, but things are never dull for this group.

Words: 11187, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of The Sydney Scroungers

Fandoms: Pacific Rim (2013), Sydney Scroungers

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, Multi

Characters: Sylvie Mansen, Seiko Watanabe, Miranda Cross, Syl-V, Eleanor Cartier, Katie Horner, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Fate Core, Expanded Universe, Artificial Intelligence, Pre-Canon, Crimes & Criminals

pacific rim May 09, 2014 at 04:45PM via AO3 works tagged ‘Pacific Rim (2013)’

[omnia-fortunae-commito]

Sydney Scroungers Liveblog - Session One

Okay, so welcome back to my Sydney Scroungers liveblog! (It totally hasn't been three months since the first one...)  This time I'll be starting "Act 1: Shakedown" in Session #1.

hehe, February

okay so this is the Southern Hemisphere so February is the middle of summer... That just feels weird

building a Wall to keep the Kaiju out? (or rather "in" the Pacific?) that just doesn't feel feasible to me..

Are the Kaiju getting tougher or are the Jaeger-pilots getting tired?

okay, I've heard of Katie

Eleanor, you are the only name I don't recognize...

Syl-V!

oh my syl! (oh, this could get confusing, this is actually a Stormlight reference) these prime vs AI conversations are just my favorite

so both Eleanor and Miranda know Seiko, but haven't seen him in a while so they aren't sure its him.  how long has it been?

"Possible" Okay Miranda I like you

eww drunk guys

and of course he is american...

hehe go Eleanor

so impersonating a Jaeger-pilot is a bad thing/illegal? hmm...

what're you up to Seiko?

oh, tried to steal money

one of the chairs? how many did he take up?

So her "actions" during the prologue were publicized, and Seiko knows...

and he's toying with her, bad Seiko!

so he's actually Southern...

hehe Eleanor, I'm really liking you, and you should totally have steepled your fingers

"alternative sector"

"did I say that out loud"? okay who plays you Eleanor? because they are awesome

*whistles* 10 grand upfront?

slick of Kaiju blue? what's that? I'm betting its like an oil spill only of Kaiju blood? is Kaiju blood blue?

Oh Eleanor...

[abalidoth]

Soooooo I'm going back through Sydney Scroungers tags for nostalgia reasons and uh

this aged like milk 😬

[featherwriter]

The Sydney Scroungers: Intermission, Part 1

((Click here to find the previous sessions!))

Scene 1 – March 11, 2021

Sylvie taps her fingers against the cafe table a few days after the meeting night with Zhu. The table's outside and she's wearing her jacket again, as the weather has taken a turn for the brisk with winter looming on the horizon. Also, she likes finding excuses to wear it now. It reminds her of Mike, and she could use some thoughts of him being here with her now.

When Corazon had finally cleared her to Drift, the last thing she had expected was Vee invoking Drift-risk protocol. Followed by explanation that Vee had stumbled into some of Seiko's secrets. And that Sylvie would be required to meet with him after Drifting. After the way they parted on Tranquility, she has no idea what to expect from him.

When he walks in, he's more casually dressed than he usually is at work, but he sits down, giving her a polite nod. "Ms. Mansen."

She returns it, but keeps eye contact the whole time, watching him warily. "Mr. Watanabe."

"Relax," he says. "If I was here to kill you, I'd be there, not down here." He points to the balcony of a nearby shopping mall.

Her eyes flick towards it for a second before returning to him. "Good to see you haven't thought about this or anything. Very reassuring."

"Can you look at a machine without thinking how best to rewire it? It's nothing personal, and not what I needed to talk to you about."

"Right. Because Miranda's not the only one with secrets in my head now, is she?" She watches for his reaction very closely, trying to gauge just how sensitive this bit of info is that she's got.

"Ms. Mansen, right now my priority is keeping those secrets from getting out of your head and into the hands of somebody dangerous. Zhu wouldn't approve of one method, so I am trying calm, rational discussion. If that doesn't work, then I will consider other methods."

Sylvie freezes, eyes going wide. It's the closest Seiko's come to outright threatening her, and she was terrified enough of him already. She swallows nervously before responding. "U-understood. S-so what exactly do you want from me?"

"I don't think... you're a worthless teammate, Mansen. I know you have your skills, but your tendency to drop names under stress has caused... problems."

She purses her lips slightly. "I know that, but I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do about it. It's not like I can just flip a switch and suddenly know how to keep my cool in those kinds of situations. I'll try, but well, I'm pretty sure we both know how bad I am with these things. I figure the part of fiVe that is me is how this even slipped out in the first place, so there's already a precedent for me messing it up."

"Sylvie,” he says, “out of all the things you've done on these missions that have... caused problems, do you know the worst? To me, at least?"

She raises an eyebrow. "After all the screw-ups I've had this past month, I couldn't even begin to guess."

"Our first mission. You said my name in front of Wulagu."

"Really?" She scoffs slightly. "That's what you'd choose? I know you said she's a scary person, but she wasn't even on the ship. She probably didn't even hea--"

"She called me, right after."

Sylvie cuts off, mouth dropping open in shock. After a moment, she shuts it with a snap, trying to process what she's just heard. "I... Seiko, I had no idea… What did she say to you?"

"That she would go after... some people under my protection. Luckily, I don't think she has the info to hurt them. I joined up with Zhu to keep it that way, but if she hears that name, she'll be able to make the connections and innocent people will wind up dead. And they are. Despite their less fortunate associations with somebody like me, they are innocent."

Sylvie nods slowly. "The name... Reika?"

"Please, never say that again," he says sharply, glancing around like one of the Wulagoons might be watching them from over their teacakes at the next table.

Sylvie ducks her head, grimacing. "Sorry. Right, I'm not saying it. Not supposed to let it slip. Don't let people find out Seiko's secrets. I can do that, can't I? Yeah, totally." She sounds like she's trying to convince herself and she's not doing a very good job.

"Ms. Mansen, you cannot keep passing off your mistakes on immaturity. Someday, you're going to kill somebody people actually like, and you won't be able to pass it off with a 'poor Sylvie Mansen' routine until everybody feels bad and your boyfriend yells at them."

She stiffens. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You say you can't help but make mistakes? Then don't put yourself in a position where lives are in your hands."

Her expression goes hard. "It's a little late for that, isn't it, Seik? Thanks to Zhu, I'm on this team for the foreseeable future and in case you haven't noticed, we get into all kinds of dangerous situations. Look, I'm trying over here, but I'm well aware that I'm not good at this, and you sticking knives in all my weak spots and insecurities every time we talk isn't exactly helping!"

"Oh, poor you,” he says. “You nearly get my loved ones killed but, oh no, I make you feel bad about it to make sure you understand the importance of not getting them, well, actually killed."

She bristles. "What do you want me to do, exactly? Despite all of my best efforts, I'm apparently not doing enough for you, so how can I make this better? Or do you just want to yell at me some more?" The words are loud enough that the couple a few tables away shoots her a startled look.

"For one, when criticized, you could stop whining about how difficult everything is and how mean I am, and focus on actually doing better."

Sylvie opens her mouth, ready to lash back, then stops and shuts it. She leans back, taking a deep breath as she stares at him, trying to control her temper. "Okay then," she says, each syllable sharp enough to cut steel. "How."

"For self-control, think about it. Take responsibility for it. Talk to Vee. Consider getting a professional therapist. And no, that isn't an insult. I think anybody in our line of work should get a therapist if they can."

She gives him a disbelieving look. "The killer-for-hire is telling me to get a therapist? Really?"

"I'd get one myself if they wouldn't have to violate a number of laws to keep confidentiality," he says with a shrug.

She laughs once, more a puff of air than an actual sound. "You could try El. Don't think she'd exactly be too shocked by what you've done. And she's quite a bit better with confidentiality than me."

"No good with somebody you know, and not the actual point. Beyond that, you should get practice in non-lethal combat. I have nothing against killing, you well know, but it's not the sort of thing you want to do on accident."

A flash of horror twists her face for a second, then she seems to snap back to the moment. "N-no, it's not," she says shakily. "Mike and I have been thinking about doing some of that kind of training, but... well, I know his style. He's slightly non-standard from the PPDC norm, but after a few weeks, I've managed to figure out how he moves. I don't know how much help it'll be."

"I'll train with you if it'll help," he says. "I need to brush up my combat skills anyway. I'm a bit useless without a gun."

"I'm not sure if I should be reassured by that or not," she says. "But thanks. We could trade, if you wanted. Because despite the piloting crash course in firearms, I've never been very good with those."

"Might be useful,” he says. “Anyway, continue thinking. Despite what you may think, Mansen, I'd rather not have to kill you at this point."

She gives him a long look, staying quiet while she decides whether or not she wants to ask her next question. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her fear. "...Would you though? If you knew you could get away with it? No consequences? I don't feel like you're the kind of person to tell polite-sounding lies, so I guess I'm asking: Would you kill me?"

"There will always be consequences. Even if I could keep Zhu from finding out, or even suspecting, even if I could keep Miranda from finding out and had another programmer of your skill level and could make sure Vee and fiVe were both saved and cared for... only if I had to."

"So... what would constitute you 'having to'?" Sylvie says, trying not to feel sick at the morbid topic of her own death. She kinda brought it up.

"If I thought your actions were about to do real and permanent damage to me or anybody under my protection."

She glances down at the table, feeling somewhat hollow. "Pull my override, just like you did with Vee. But there'd be no one to wake me up on the other side."

"That's called knocking you out, Mansen. You wake up from that."

"Yeah, well if I get a vote in this little matter, I'd prefer that one, should it become necessary, ‘kay?"

"As would I. Let's try to keep it from being necessary."

She meets his eyes, trying to look determined, rather than scared. "Right. Let's. Try to, um, warn me before we get to that point, maybe?"

"What do you think I'm doing here?"

She actually smiles faintly. "Got it. Thanks." She leans back, taking a sip of her water. "What exactly is this, Seiko? What are we? We have a lunch date so that you can keep me from making you assassinate me, and spit venom at each other to the point where I'm breaking down in tears... and then you try to help me with my issues and we share pomegranates in my bunk? Half the time I think you want to strangle me and the other half we end up bickering almost like we're friends."

"I have at no point gone out of my way to hurt you, as for the rest, I don't much care how you want to think about it."

She gives him a flat look, then sighs. "Yeah, heaven forbid anything make sense. And if this is you not actively trying to hurt me... well."

"I do not think you are a detestable person,” he says, “but I also feel you put the lives of the people I value most in danger. You hardly leave me in a simple position"

"Nothing's ever simple, is it?" She sounds weary suddenly. "Programs make sense. Nice, neat little lines of code. You know exactly what they do. People? People are chaos."

"As fascinating as your view on humanity is, your lack of empathy is probably something you should discuss with that therapist I suggested, not me."

She frowns. "I don't have a lack of empathy. I'm a very empathetic person. And what would you know? You kill people for a living."

"It wasn't a criticism, Sylvie. Empathy isn't always morality. I can kill people because I have empathy and with it, I can see how they see, what they value, what their next move will be. I just don't care."

"I..." She pauses, then sighs. "Who knows, maybe you're right. I think I might be in the same boat as you on the therapist thing though. Not too many of those around that can treat dead fugitives, I don't think."

"That's what false names are for," he says with a shrug. "It's your business though. Just talk to somebody. Phone a self-help line for all I care."

"Because we have established how good I am with fake names, right?"

"Then it would be good practice.” His voice goes slightly hard. “Leave your own safety at stake for once."

She gives him a flat look. "I don't think so, thanks. Were there any more bits of sensitive information or threats against my life that you wanted to make, or should we call that waiter over and maybe get something to eat?"

"I can make any further threats over food," he says, waving over a waiter.

"Good enough for me." She orders something that sounds like it might taste good, not paying too much attention to it, then waits as Seiko orders and the waiter retreats once more. "It's a good idea, though. Sparring, I mean. I'm actually kinda looking forward to it."

He smiles. "You'll get to kick me across the room for sure," he says.

She considers that for a moment, then smiles. "Yeah, definitely looking forward to it. When do you want to meet up? A few days from now, meet on Tranquility? You could bring Miranda too if you don't mind an audience. Who knows, maybe I'll call El and Katie and see if they're free. Make a team exercise of the whole thing."

"That could be interesting."

"Well, it's up to you," she says lightly. "I'm not the one who's going to get taken down to the mat."

"We'll see how good of a shot you are before you brag," Seiko says.

She tips her head, conceding the point. "And there's always the chance that you're a crazy gang-style street-fighting expert who is waiting for a chance to take me down a few pegs too."

"Not likely. I learned my moves taking modern dance classes."

She laughs a bit. "Well then, sounds like you could definitely use some help. I'll see what I can do."

Scene 2 – March 13, 2021

Note to self, Sylvie thinks to herself, grunting at the effort of dragging her load up Tranquility's gangplank. I should get rolling cart or something for these mats. Why did we decide to do this on Tranquility?

Oh right. Because the idea of Seiko coming into her apartment is terrifying, and Tranquility is much more of a neutral ground.

When Seiko shows up, he's wearing looser pants than usual and a t-shirt that looks more like something Miranda would wear, baggy and oil stained. Miranda is with him.

Eleanor is already on the deck, leaning against the rail. "Hey," she says as she sees Sylvie. "Sorry, I was up early, so..."

Coming up behind them, Seiko grabs one of the mats and helps pull it.

Miranda follows behind them, grinning at Eleanor as she sees her. "Hey, El. Come to watch this, too?"

Oh, right. Helping. Eleanor sheepishly grabs a mat too, her sneakers squeaking on the floor. Hopefully the PPDC-emblazoned tank and baggy jeans don't look too out of place. "Hey Miranda, and yeah, I thought I'd help keep score," she says wryly. "I'm certainly not in any shape to bust a move with these two." She juts her chin at Seiko and Sylvie.

Sylvie jumps in surprise as the two help her with the weight. "Oh, hey. Thanks. I didn't know whether or not we'd have an audience..."

"I figured I should make sure the two of you don't end up actually killing each other," Miranda says, keeping an eye on the mats to make sure none of them slip off the gangplank.

Seiko gives her a flat look. "You guys realize I don't do combat right? I hope you all came to watch me get my ass kicked by a tiny programmer, because that's what's happening."

Eleanor grins. "You kidding? That's exactly why we all came."

He sighs. "Should'a guessed."

Sylvie looks slightly nervous. "I still don’t believe you’re as terrible as you think you are, Seiko. Aren't you like, crazy underworld assassin extraordinaire?"

Miranda barks out a laugh, but shuts her mouth quickly, blushing.

"With guns,” he says. “I kill people with guns. You were trained with Jaeger pilots. My formal training consists of two months of American dance class."

Sylvie shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed. "And about twelve years of martial arts classes before the Academy too..." she mumbles.

"That's why I'm here though, right? I'm going to learn."

"Well, mine consists of a six-week class when I was 15, so." Eleanor lets the mat slap to the ground. "You both got more skills than me."

"And I'm, well... I took a few kickboxing lessons, but that was a long time ago," Miranda chimes in.

Eleanor holds her hand up to Miranda for a high-five.

"What up," Miranda says, returning it.

Sylvie shrugs off her leather jacket -- the accessory is becoming near ubiquitous with her now -- and starts stretching a bit, her tank top and knit sweats in various shades of blue underneath. "So, speaking of training, Seiko, what exactly do you want to do? Do you want instruction or do you just want to try a spar?"

"We should probably take a round first. Instruction will be best if you know where I'm starting from"

Miranda grabs a couple boxes and drags them over to the makeshift ring, taking a seat on one of them.

"You all better come watch me beat Mansen at laser tag later," Seiko grumbles.

"Are you kidding?" Miranda says. "I'll be on your team for that one."

"I'll kick both your asses at that game," Eleanor jokes, flexing one bare arm. "You can't compete with these guns."

Seiko frowns. "Your biceps shoot lasers?"

Eleanor narrows her eyes at Seiko. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

"Laser tag?"  Sylvie asks. "We're going to play laser tag?"

He nods. "Cheaper and safer than trusting you with a real gun right away."

Sylvie winces. "Eugh. Real guns. Yeah, let's do laser tag."

"For now," Seiko says, taking off his shoes, "Let's spar."

Backing off to the sidelines, Eleanor shoots them a thumbs-up.

Sylvie slips out of her shoes as well. "I'll try to go a little easy on you, kay?"

"Miranda,” he says, “leave flowers on my grave."

"Kick her ass, Seiko," fiVe says over the speakers.

"Try not to hurt him, Sylvie," Vee warns.

"Neither of you better make me get my med kit," Miranda says.

"My med kit right now is an ice pack," says Eleanor. "One. You have to share it." She smiles and crosses her arms.

Sylvie grins, then ready to see what he’s got, she sweeps forward, using a straightforward approach. Seeing she's hitting high, Seiko ducks low, going for her knees. Recognizing the attack, she manages to dip low enough to get her arms inside of his, and hold him back. With a quick strike, she lands a blow to his ribs. He gasps, but falls back fast enough that it doesn't do too much damage.

Dancing back out of his reach, Sylvie bounces on her toes. "You okay?"

"Fine," he says, straightening.

She nods, then raises her hand and curls her fingers in a "bring it" gesture.

He goes in for another swing, but this attack is nearly as ineffectual as the last. She easily ducks under his arm as it comes in, slipping around to get behind him and catching his ankle with her foot as she moves. A quick shove with her shoulder to the middle of his back sends him reeling off balance.

Eleanor winces, but claps politely. It was a good throw. Miranda starts a bit, reaching for her bag instinctively.

He hits the ground hard, and manages to roll back, but his stance is clearly a good deal shakier, even though he tries to hide it as he goes in for another punch.

This time, Sylvie feels like she's danced around him long enough. As he swings, she grabs his arm with both hands, twisting sharply to the side. The motion yanks him off balance, and she quickly takes him down to the mat, pressing her knee into his back as she pins the arm behind him.

Miranda stiffens. "Seiko!"

He winces. "Fine, Mira. Round one goes to Mansen."

Sylvie holds him for a moment, grinning, then steps back and helps pull him to his feet. "Sorry. You were... doing well there for a little bit?"

"Nah. It's fine," he says, pulling off his shirt and using it to mop his brow. Underneath are a... rather impressive array of scars, from cuts, to bullet wounds, to a wide discoloration that looks like an acid spill. "Let me get a drink of water and I can go another round."

Eleanor's eyebrows raise appreciatively, and she shoots a glance toward Miranda as if to say "niiiice." She notices the scars, too, but somehow they fit with her mental image of Seiko so well that she isn't fazed by them. Miranda's able to keep her actual expression from changing much, but her cheeks turn a bit red nonetheless.

Sylvie blinks, unable to keep herself from staring. For one, Seiko's in excellent shape, and there's a tiny bit of her that she's pretty sure comes from Miranda's memories which appreciates that quite a bit. But it's the scars that really hit her. She'd had some idea that he'd had a hard life, but she'd never imagined... You take your life for granted too often, Sylvie. Things could be much worse for you...

Seiko takes a long drink of the ice water he brought. "You ready to go another round?"

Sylvie takes a quick drink of her own water, wondering briefly if she should take her tank top off as well, then blushes as she realizes that she was thinking as though he were Mike. She shakes her head quickly to clear that thought away. "I... uh, yeah. I think I can go again."

Miranda notices Sylvie's blush, her smile fading a bit. Sylvie glances at Miranda briefly, and her expression only makes Sylvie blush redder in embarrassment.

"Eleanor, you call the start?" Seiko asks.

"Yeah," Eleanor says, drawing out the word as she watches her teammates. Interesting. "Okay...3, 2, 1, hajime."

Seiko moves in fast this time, not wanting to let himself get predictable. This turns out to be a bad plan. Sylvie's used to Mike trying to get surprise advantages so she's prepared for this kind of attack. She steps out of the way of his momentum, swinging her foot out for a sharp kick at his shins.

He can't roll out of that one as well, but hops back, looking ready to go on the defensive instead. Sylvie pauses for a moment, noticing his change in tactics. She raises an eyebrow, as if asking 'you really want me to go on the offensive?'

With a small shrug, she complies, testing forward and trying to get inside his defenses. As she's trying to spot an opening however, her eye gets caught lingering on one of the nastier-looking of his scars, a long gash across his chest. He uses the opening to get a knee into her stomach. It isn't a good hit, but it's the best he's made that day.

Sylvie doubles forward, grunting as he knocks the wind out of her and stumbling back in hopes that he won't be able to get another strike in. Before she can fully recover, he manages to get inside her guard, digging in his elbow to knock her back into a sloppy pin.

"No broken bones," Eleanor warns. "I'm not spending the day setting ribs."

Miranda's nails are digging slightly into the box she's sitting on, but she bites her lip, saying nothing even as her blush darkens.

Taking a breath, he manages to adjust his grip so she's pinned cleaner. "My victory," he wheezes.

"I think Seiko's got this one," says Eleanor tentatively. "Miranda? What do you think?"

Sylvie struggles a bit, testing that he's actually got her pinned, then reluctantly stills. "He's got me," she groans, face pressed into the mat. "Nicely done."

Eleanor's words snap her back to attention. "Y-yeah," she stammers. "He got her."

"Though let's be honest," Sylvie says, "fighting shirtless was a little bit of a dirty fighting tactic. Come on, let me up before I have to flip you."

"No. It's about what you need to learn to," he says, lessening his grip and backing up. "There's no dress code in a real fight."

He holds out an arm to help her up. She takes it, rubbing her neck as she stands. The second she's up, he does down to sit next to Miranda, muttering something in her ear as he pulls his shirt back on.

"Harder to grab people without clothes, too," Eleanor puts in.

"And sweat tends to make bare skin slippery," Sylvie says, then blushes brightly again. "I mean, not that I was... Um. Nevermind."

Miranda glances at Sylvie, rubbing at her cheeks with the palm of her hand to try and cover her blush.

Eleanor's lips twitch. "Yeah, sure. That." She looks to Seiko. "So, are you guys gonna settle on a tie, or do you want to break it?"

Sylvie shrugs, taking some more water. "Up to you, Seik." She pauses, glancing at him. "I mean, Seiko."

He laughs. "I think I'm good for now, though if you have any particular tips."

She purses her lips, considering for a moment. "I mean, a lot of it is just building automatic reactions. It takes practice but when you're fighting well, you're not thinking about it. You just react and know what to do. While you're trying to learn though, try to focus on anticipation. I'm not fighting very tricky or feinting much, so see if you can figure out why I'm moving the way I am when I come at you, and see if you can do something to counteract it before I can land the hit."

"Shooting's the same," he says with a nod.

"Shooting's confusing," she says. "It's loud and difficult and you have to think about breathing and sighting and wind and gravity and angles and crap like that. Fighting just feels right. Shooting is weird."

Miranda crosses and uncrosses her legs, trying to look casual.

Eleanor laughs. "It's just a skill you haven't picked up yet. Of course it's going to feel weird."

"I fought long before I learned to shoot," he says with a surprisingly fond smile. "But not the kind that does you any good in the field. And I was pretty bad at it."

"I had to go through a whole firearms regimen at the Academy," Sylvie points out. "Still weird. I keep expecting that Yegorov's going to fire one while holding it right next to my head again. He got a week's worth of demerits for that little stunt."

“Really? I think that was part of my training."

Sylvie hesitates, then frowns sympathetically. "Sorry. I kinda forget how... different our two lives have been sometimes." Her eyes drop to his torso again, remembering the scars.

"Everybody's life is different. Especially these days," he says.

She nods. "So, you want another round?"

"I think I'm good for the day if you are,” he says. “Eleanor? You wanna take a few swings?"

"Or you, Miranda?" Sylvie adds. "You did pretty well against those cultists a while back. Would you be up for a round on the mat?"

Miranda grins. "Could be fun," she says, standing up and rolling her shoulders.

"You say you've had a little training?" Sylvie says, stretching her arms as she gets ready. "Anything beyond PPDC basic?"

"Kickboxing, back when I was in high school. I, uh... ended up getting around most of the basic training though, to be honest."

"How'd you swing that? I thought pretty much everyone had to have basic, even those outside the Ranger program."

Miranda raises an eyebrow, then takes off her shirt, throwing it towards Seiko to hold. Eleanor whistles, for effect.

Sylvie's eyes go wide at the sight of the exoskeleton. "Oh... Right. I completely forgot about your... Are you sure you're okay to fight? I don't want to hurt you or anything..."

Miranda shifts back into a fighting stance. "We're just sparring, Sylv. Besides, I've got plenty of people who are trying to hurt me, and I need to know how to defend myself against them. Just go easy on me and it'll be fine." She pauses, pulling a couple latches on her wrists. "Okay, now I'm ready."

Eleanor tries not to laugh at Sylvie's reaction. Miranda will strut her stuff soon enough; she'll learn not to underestimate a woman with literally-armored skin.

"I'm not going to like, break my hand trying to hit you, am I?" Sylvie asks as she falls into stance as well.

"Probably not, but I've got splints just in case."

Seiko watches with a calm expression. He'll only annoy Miranda if he fusses.

"Okay, ready?" Eleanor looks between the two women, then counts down. "Hajime!"

The two of them step forward at the same time, preparing a strike in mirror images of each other. Their attacks bounce off each other and they stumble back, wide-eyed.

Sylvie steps back, bewildered. "Did you just..."

"...Clearly I need to stop Z-targeting," Miranda mutters. "If you jump up on top of my sword I am so done."

"This isn't a mirror match," Eleanor says in a sing-song tone. "You guys can both be from the Shadow Realm, or whatever."

"I..." Sylvie frowns. "Wait, does this make me the Dark version?"

"Please tell me you've got the Zora Tunic, then," Eleanor shoots back.

"But I've already got the Iron Boots," Miranda says, knocking her toes against the deck of the Tranquility.

Seiko turns quietly to Eleanor. "What are we referencing?"

"Old video game series," she says behind a hand. "Legend of Zelda. It's got arrows, but no guns. You might like it anyway."

"I'm not much one for video games."

Eleanor tilts her head in consideration. "Yeah, Seiko, if you ever do play something...just promise me you won't get a Wii-2020."

"Sure?"

Eleanor pats Seiko's arm. "Good," she says, solemnly.

Miranda grins. "Okay, if I win, you've gotta give me the Longshot, alright, Sylv?"

Sylvie shakes her head, somewhat too startled to participate more fully in the reference. "Uh, sure. But... did we just post-Drift sync? That's a new experience for me..." She pauses. "Granted, I never got to spar with Zagurski after our Drift, on account of... yeah." She shakes her head. "Um, I think I can probably change things up enough that you won't sync up again. Wanna try?"

"Yeah," Miranda says. "I can keep a better handle on it, too. Let's try this again."

Stepping forward, Sylvie decides to try one of her old techniques from long before the PPDC, something Miranda would probably be unfamiliar with. It's a style with lots of sidesteps and constant movements, a rather far cry from the straightforward cleanliness of the PPDC form.

Miranda watches her closely, shifting back and forth to keep up with her. "Wonder what else might have carried over through the Drift..." she quips, moving so Seiko passes through Sylvie's field of vision as she speaks.

For a moment, Sylvie looks confused, then her eyes go wide and she blushes bright red again. "Oh no! I wasn't thinking about... I mean, Seiko... I swear, Miri! Um..."

Eleanor muffles a giggle behind one hand. Seiko turns considerably redder than Sylvie even and suddenly becomes very interested in the text on his water bottle

 Miranda uses the opportunity, moving in close. She uses one hand to knock Sylvie's arms up and away from her torso, slamming the heel of her other palm into Sylvie's sternum. Sylvie grunts, feeling her hit compound on the pain from Seiko kneeing her and steps backward, trying to switch to defense. Miranda doesn't let her widen the gap, keeping close and planting her foot between Sylvie's legs. She spins, using her momentum to sweep Sylvie's legs out from under her and knock her to the mat.

"Come on, Sylv," Miranda pants. "You're supposed to be our fighter!"

Sylvie hits hard, head knocking back against what is thankfully a padded floor. Corazon would kill her if she was hitting her head about again. With a growl, she hooks her leg around Miranda's ankle and yanks her down to the mat as well.

Miranda drops to the mat with a yelp.

"Um." Eleanor looks over at Seiko. "Tie again? I think?"

Seiko is staring at Miranda, and doesn’t respond.

A smile spreads across Eleanor's face. "Yeah, okay, I take that as a yes. For now."

With a snarl, Sylvie rolls over as Miranda falls, then quickly moves to grab her arms and try to get her into a pin. Rather than struggling, Miranda grabs Sylvie's arms as she tries to pin her, rolling in the same direction Sylvie's moving to get herself on top. She slides up into a sitting position quickly, shifting her weight forward and pinning Sylvie's arms with her knees.

"I win," Miranda says with a grin, tapping the heel of her palm against Sylvie's sternum again.

Sylvie glares up at her petulantly. "That comment about Seiko was a bit underhanded, don’t you think?"

"You've gotta be ready for anything in a fight," Miranda says. "You can't just separate sparring and fighting all the time. If you don't want to fight lethal, you've gotta be willing to fight dirty."

"Real opponents will try to distract you any way they can," Eleanor adds. "Psychological warfare, now, that's a sparring lesson I can get behind. Lemme know if anyone wants to face me over a desk to practice." Her smile is a bit on the wicked side.

Seiko turns to Eleanor. "I would actually be interested in that. After all, I seem to have caused a lot more trouble in those battles then anything else lately."

With a measuring look, Eleanor nods. "Sure, we should do that sometime. You could teach me a couple sparring tips in return if you like."

Sylvie sighs. "Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Miranda. I mean, this is why I wanted to fight Seiko. I gotta get used to different styles and stuff I wouldn't normally find in sparring matches. Let me up, will you?"

Miranda rolls to the side, sighing and sprawling out on the mat. "Now we're even," she hums.

Sylvie lays there next to her, not sitting up. "Yeah, I probably deserved that. I don't remember if I ever apologized for punching you actually..."

"Apology accepted," Miranda sighs. She lifts her hands, resituating the latches on her wrists. "Besides, with all the punches we keep throwing at you, it's only fair that you get a free hit in on one of us."

Sylvie smiles at her, then leans over, talking quietly. "And for the record... I wasn't thinking about Seiko like that. Well, maybe a little bit, but that's your fault for Drifting with me. I was actually thinking about..." she trails off, biting her lip, not sure if she wants to continue.

Miranda laughs softly. "I know. Mike, right?" She looks over at her. "Sorry, I'm just... a bit jealous, I guess. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm wondering how he might react if I tried that shirt-removal tactic next time he comes over..." Sylvie  grins sheepishly, then looks more serious. "Why jealous though?"

Miranda blushes a bit. "I, um... I guess because everyone always reacts like you did. I hate constantly being treated like I'm fragile."

"Ah," Sylvie says, sitting up. "I guess that makes sense. Why would that make you jealous of me sparring with Seiko though?"

Miranda raises an eyebrow from where she lies sprawled out on the mat. "Sylvie, you two were rolling around on the ground, and he ended up shirtless and straddling you. You really gonna make me spell it out?"

Sylvie shrinks a bit. "Oh. I, um. I didn't realize you... Um. That's a thing. I, um... I'm sorry?"

Miranda laughs. "Oh, come on, Sylv. Like your mind doesn't wander when you're sparring with Mike."

"Not like that!" She says quickly. "I mean... I don't think it does. I would know right? Would I? Oh, God, I sound like a moron."

"Like usual, then," fiVe chimes in.

Miranda's face goes red. "Oh... Hello fiVe. Please tell me no one's hooked into the comm system right now."

"Zhu's channel has been recording this whole time, and there's a strange bunch of twitter messages about odd things playing over the Shatterdome PA system, but I'm sure it's nothing."

Miranda drops her head back onto the mat. "Thanks, fiVe. Real helpful."

"The comms aren't even picking this up, Miranda," fiVe says more seriously. "I hacked your suit's built-in mic. No one else can hear."

"I know," Miranda says, finally sitting up. "I'm just being sulky and dramatic."

Sylvie gives her a nervous, side-eyed look. "So you really... Seiko?"

Miranda laughs. "Yeah," she says, looking over at him chatting with Eleanor. "I really Seiko."

Sylvie smiles slightly. "Does he ‘really’ you as well?"

She blushes a bit. "I certainly hope so..."

Sylvie glances back at him, still not entirely sure what to think about Seiko. But she likes Miranda, and if Miranda likes him... "I hope so too, then."

In the background, Eleanor nudges Seiko with an elbow. He's still beet red, but he doesn't look terribly unhappy.

Miranda grins, standing up and offering Sylvie a hand. "Well then, shall we?"

Sylvie stands as well. "I suppose we shall." She glances at Eleanor. "You want a turn to repay me for all the crap I've put you guys through? I'm apparently off my game today, so you could probably take me."

Eleanor waves. "Sure," she says, loud enough to be heard across the mat. Leaving Seiko, she stretches and slips her sneakers off. Then she pulls her baggy jeans off, too, revealing a snug pair of capris. "Didn't know if I'd be getting on the mat," she explains.

Miranda grabs her shirt back from Seiko. "Thanks, luv," she mutters, slipping it back on.

"You didn't hurt anything?" he asks.

She tenses a bit. "Just Sylvie's pride."

"Remind me how much training you've had?" Sylvie asks Eleanor, trying to get herself back into a fighting mindset.

"Pretty much none, outside of PPDC regs," Eleanor says, plucking at her shirt just above the distinctive avian logo. "A little karate when I was in high school, but I've probably forgotten it all by now."

"Well, I'll try to go easy on you okay?" Sylvie frowns. "Though I've lost almost every bout thus far, haven't I?"

"I cheated and she's made of metal, Sylvie,” Seiko says. “Don't feel too bad."

"C'mon, El; make it three for three!" Miranda calls, shaking off her sulkiness for the time being.

"Oh great," Eleanor says, smiling. "You do know I'm not a fighter, right?"

"Hey, you need to brush up on your 'taking people out' skills, right?" Sylvie asks, bouncing a bit on her toes. "Well, I'm here to help. I'll move slow, okay?"

Eleanor brings her fists to her hips in a horse stance. "Gimme what you got, Mansen," she challenges. "If I can't take it, I'll let you know. By...not...moving." She frowns slightly. "Yeah, okay, go slow, thanks."

"Someone want to call a start?" Sylvie asks.

"I can," Miranda says, stepping forward. "Three... two... one... Hajime!"

Eleanor steps forward, one fist raised. Sylvie moves somewhat carefully, testing Eleanor's reactions. She takes a few practice strikes, and while Eleanor blocks the first few well enough, Sylvie finally reaches the point where she strikes too fast to be blocked, and she scores a hit on Eleanor's side.

"Oof," says Eleanor. That spot might ache in the morning. When Sylvie ducks back, she rolls her shoulders, determined to keep her guard up this time.

"You okay, El?" Sylvie asks. "You were keeping up there for a little bit!”

Eleanor laughs. "I'm fine! I just need to practice more, get in better shape," she says ruefully.

"Well, that's what we're doing, right?"

"Sure enough. Maybe we should make it a regular rotation." Eleanor winks as she rolls her shoulders again, to emphasize the pun.

Sylvie rolls her eyes. "Oh God, that was terrible." As if in punishment for the awful wordplay, she attacks again.

Eleanor laughs and tries to dance out of the way. It would work, except...she catches her ankle with her other foot, and feels air whoosh past her as she starts to lose her balance.

Miranda laughs a bit. "You usually wait for the other person to hit you before you fall, El!"

Sylvie's swing takes nothing but open air as Eleanor stumbles backward. Sylvie pauses for just a moment as she attempts to decide whether she should take advantage of the slip, or try to help Eleanor instead. Deciding that it's training and the mat is padded and Eleanor needs to learn how to fall, she sweeps a kick low and finishes the trip, taking Eleanor down at the ankles.

Eleanor slaps the mat hard with her forearms, and collapses, laughing. "That's one-zero," she gasps. "Go again?" Levering herself up on her forearms, she hops to her feet and resumes her square-shouldered stance.

Sylvie purses her lips. "Technically, we never ended the bout. No one got pinned. Of course, I could fix that..." She darts in quickly, not holding anything back, and in a few quick moves, she grabs Eleanor's arm, knocks her legs out, and -- making sure not to drop her too hard -- pins Eleanor to the mat.

Eleanor doesn't try to wiggle...much. Instead, she grins, and rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Like I said, I'm not much of a fighter. Definitely no match for you!"

"Well, I don't feel quite so bad that Sylvie's our hitter now," Miranda says from the sidelines. "I was starting to get worried for a minute there."

Sylvie rolls off Eleanor, helping her back to her feet. "I was worried for a moment too. What's next, one of my programs goes haywire and stops functioning like it's supposed to?"

"Wow, that would be a shock," says Eleanor. "Can't even imagine."

"Yes," fiVe says flatly. "That would be completely unexpected. I can't even imagine something like that every happening."

Sylvie winces, then sighs. "Okay, dumb thing to say."

fiVe laughs. "Exactly no one is surprised, Sylvia."

Sylvie coughs nervously, forcing herself not to glare at the speaker when she hears that name. "Thank you, fiVe. Your input was greatly appreciated." She puts her hands on her hips, looking around the room. "Well, I think that's everyone. Anyone else want to try again, or should we call it a day?"

Eleanor affects an exaggerated limp, and goes to lean on Miranda. "I'm good."

Miranda grins, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. "I'm probably done, too. Don't want you to lose too many times."

"If either of you ever needs an ego boost in that regard, you know where to find me," Eleanor grumbles.

Sylvie glances at Seiko. "So, you're gonna teach me to shoot via laser tag one of these days?"

"Maybe tomorrow,” he says. “It would be better on group, and Eleanor looks worn. Don't worry, Ms. Cartier, we can still do that verbal spar. I am sure you will rediscover your ego."

"Nah, I'm good." Eleanor winks. "Wouldn't mind sparring in something I have an actual chance in, though."

Miranda laughs. "Well, if anyone wants to... I dunno, have a Jaeger-building contest or something..." Her face suddenly lights up. "No, I got it. Bumper boats. That's what I'll contribute to this disastrous training exercise."

Sylvie raises an eyebrow. "Katie'll throw a fit if you're planning on using Tranquility for that one."

"We can steal a jetski. She can't really object to that," Eleanor says cheekily.

"You guys need to know how to drive things in the water," Miranda says. "It's completely legitimate."

"Only if you get taken out, Miri," Sylvie says. "Besides, Vee and fiVe can both drive. We'll be fine." She stretches. "Well, if we're done for the day, any chance I can get some help with these mats?"

"Sure." Eleanor nods and grabs one corner to start rolling.

"Alright," Miranda says, gathering up the other equipment. "But if any of you ever flip a jetski or something, don't say I didn't warn you."

Sylvie laughs. "Noted."

Eleanor rolls her eyes. "If I flip a jetski, most of what you'll hear will be 'glub glub'!"

Scene 3 – March 18, 2021

A few days after the impromptu sparring session on Tranquility, and about a week after the attack on Peralta's ship, Miranda receives a somewhat strange text from Sylvie's number:

Sylvie: Question. Are you home right now? Miranda: Yes... Why?

Miranda hears a knock at the door followed by a muffled, but rather annoyed sounding voice. "Good. Let me in. I need to have a little 'talk' with that glitch ridden program you've got sitting in your servers."

Miranda cracks the door, chain still in place. "What about?"

Seiko is sitting on the couch, on the laptop. "fiVe, I'm working bank transfers. Can you keep them covered even while dealing with Mansen?"

fiVe answers Seiko, sounding amused. "I'm fairly certain she's nothing I can't handle."

As soon as the door cracks open, Sylvie leans in, shouting. "fiVe! You had better have a damn good explanation for what just happened, or I swear, I will dismantle you!"

fiVe scoffs quietly, but doesn't respond loud enough for Sylvie to hear. "I'd like to see her try, with the two of you around."

Miranda sighs. "You know I can't unlatch the door without closing it, right?"

Sylvie frowns, but steps back slightly. "Fine. Let me in."

"fiVe?" Miranda asks, shutting the door as she does so.

"What do you think she'd do if I said no?" fiVe says. "I wonder how long she would just sit out there waiting to come in..."

Miranda looks at the closed door for a moment. Finally she shakes her head. "Landlord's already pissed at me for fiddling with appliances; don't want to add a broken door to the list. Even if it's flimsy as hell. God, I wish he'd..." She opens the door, still muttering bitterly about leases and noise complaints and vague definitions of "reckless endangerment".

Sylvie rushes in, looking around for a camera that fiVe would be using to see. She stops for a moment, blinking as she takes in the new sight, then waves slightly awkwardly at Seiko on the couch. "Hey. I need to talk to fiVe."

Seiko points to the Roomba. fiVe "helpfully" runs her Roomba into Sylvie's ankles with... slightly more force than is probably necessary. "Something you wanted to talk about, Sylvia?" fiVe says.

"Ow!" Sylvie jumps back, then glares down at the small appliance. "I can't believe you let them do that to you. It's demeaning. And don't call me 'Sylvia.' Or I'll start calling you ‘Syl-V’ again."

"It's fiVe."

"Then it's Sylvie."

"Hey!" Miranda says with a hint of indignation. "I worked hard on that. Lets her do things around the apartment, like run into people's ankles."

"Yeah, it'd be a shame if she couldn't do that," Sylvie mutters.

"As main victim of fiVe's vicious 'anti-ankle' policy, Mira, I think it is an important part of her self-expression," Seiko says.

"I agree. Plus it's a good way of getting our attention; we tend to get wrapped up in our work." Miranda subvokes to fiVe: "Remind me to aggressively compliment Sylvie's place if I ever go there."

"Off to an excellently tactful start, aren't we, Ms. Mansen?" fiVe says.

"Don't you start with me and tact," Sylvie snaps. "What exactly do you think you were doing, hmm? You nearly put me into a seizure."

Miranda tenses. "fiVe, what did you do?"

fiVe snickers. "I haven't the faintest idea what she could be talking about. Perhaps she should explain what the problem is. Be sure to give details. It's so hard to solve computer problems if we don't know exactly what went wrong."

Sylvie, for some strange reason, starts blushing actually.

Miranda takes one look at Sylvie's face and sighs. "fiVe... Are you seriously going to make me have this conversation with you?"

Seiko looks up. "fiVe, I know not to sexually harass co-workers and I regularly threaten to kill co-workers."

"I thought she wanted to see all of the memories that Vee had," fiVe says sweetly. "The two of them like syncing up and seeing what they've missed."

Sylvie has turned bright red. "That doesn't mean you get to sneak an auto-run program into Vee's processing set to activate when she Drifts with me."

"I assumed that format would make those memories more enjoyable," fiVe says. "It was almost like a favor to you. Something to make the Drift more entertaining."

"An edited, repeating sequence of you and Vee together set to the music of ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ filling the Drift space is about the farthest thing from 'enjoyable,' fiVe!"

Miranda claps both hands over her mouth, desperately trying to keep from laughing.

fiVe has no such restraint, and cackles madly. "I was so hoping she wouldn't catch that one. She's usually so careful in checking over her files..."

"f-fiVe," Miranda says, her voice trembling with the effort. "That's... That's really not okay."

fiVe manages to stop laughing long enough to respond. "But it was fairly amusing, wasn't it?"

"I was not amused!" Sylvie says. "And Vee was mortified. If you ever try to pull something like that again..."

"You don't share personal details of a relationship without both people's express consent," Miranda says. "You're in a relationship now, fiVe. You're not just deciding things for yourself anymore. You need to respect Vee's privacy, the same way you would expect her to do the same for you."

"Actually..." Sylvie runs a hand through her ponytail, looking slightly awkward. "It's not the details themselves. I mean... fiVe is right in that Vee and I see everything of each other in the Drift. But the music and sequence editing were not okay. For one thing, it is not 2004, fiVe.  It has been almost 15 years since anyone had any reason to play that song and you should be ashamed."

"Doesn't mean she has to be so flagrant about it," Miranda says quietly, going to join Seiko on the couch.

"What, do you want me to apologize or something?" fiVe asks. The tone of her voice makes it clear that she'd be rolling her eyes if she had them.

Sylvie crosses her arms, then strangely, she grins. "Actually yes. And here's how you can apologize: Let me fix you. Right now."

"No," Miranda says, standing.

"Get out," Seiko says.

fiVe makes a glitching noise out of shock. "E-excuse me?"

Sylvie ignores the two human members in the room, not backing down. "You heard me, fiVe. I'm obviously not going to try to Drift with you, so you don't have to worry about that. We've even established that you and Vee are both your own entities, much to her continued distress, thank you very much. So what's stopping you?"

Seiko stands up, grabbing Sylvie by the shoulders. "Out."

Sylvie puts her hand up warningly against his chest, but doesn't actually strike back. "She hasn't answered me."

"Because you glitched her,” Seiko says. “If she makes that choice, it will be because she has decided it was right for her, not because you're pissed about a particularly rude Rickroll."

"It wasn't... an actual attack, Seiko," fiVe says carefully. "I was just... surprised."

Miranda stands as well. "Still. Sylvie, so far you have barged into my house, insulted my work and family, and tried to emotionally manipulate fiVe. I agree that what she did was bad, but that doesn't excuse this kind of behavior."

Sylvie looks between Seiko and Miranda carefully, then addresses fiVe again. "It's a simple question, fiVe. What's it going to take for you to let yourself be healed?"

Seiko narrows his eyes. "The ability to trust you, I'm guessing"

"I..." fiVe starts, then cuts off. "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Well you should have thought about that before you talked about it with Vee, then," Sylvie says. "Or did you somehow forget that I'd hear you telling her how much you wish you were no longer in pain. How close you are to saying yes, once and for all. How you're nearly ready to go through with it. So what's the hold-up, fiVe? What's the 'nearly'? And what do you need me to do to change that?"

"Stop being hostile and give her time to think, for a start!” Miranda says angrily. “This isn't an easy decision, y'know!"

Sylvie pauses, then lowers her hand from Seiko's chest and shakes herself free from his grip. "Fine. I'll let it drop. But not forever. I want an answer, fiVe. Tell Vee if you can't condescend to speak to me, but I want an answer."

Miranda's voice lowers suddenly. "Sylvie, you are treading on very thin ice right now."

"Ms. Mansen," Seiko says carefully, "I think you learn fairly quickly that when you try and for others to answer questions they don't want to, nobody gets the answers they want."

Sylvie holds her hands up carefully. "I said I'd drop it for now, okay? She knows I'm right though. It's why she's gone silent. She can't think of anything to say that will make me wrong."

Miranda glares at her. "Leave. Now."

Sylvie brushes herself off stiffly. "Fine. Sorry to have interrupted your morning. fiVe, if you must amuse yourself by dismantling Vee's code, make sure you put her back the way you found her, hmm?" She heads for the doorway, then stops, on hand on the frame.

Miranda walks after her, pushing her out the rest of the way and shutting the door harder than is strictly necessary.

"God, she's insufferable," fiVe says.

"I heard that" Sylvie yells through the door.

"You were supposed to!" fiVe yells back.

"I was going to say thank you for taking care of Vee that night, but someone shoved me out before I could."

fiVe makes an electronic growling noise at that. "She deserves to have someone better than you taking care of her!"

"I'd say exactly the same thing back!"

Miranda bangs on the door. "Sylvie, if you don't leave in the next ten seconds, I swear to Kelsier I'm calling the Marshall!"

"Fine, whatever. This was fun or something. Bye." The sound of loud footsteps down the hall follows.

Miranda growls, re-latching the door before going back to the couch. "...How're you holding up, fiVe?"

"She's horrific. I don't know how Vee can stand living with her," fiVe says. The response, however, is not an answer to Miranda's question.

"...fiVe, you know you have every right to take your time with a decision like this, right?" Miranda sets a hand on top of fiVe's monitor. "Sylvie only just recently stopped actively trying to murder you, and she's still using pretty blatant emotional manipulation. It's perfectly reasonable to be hesitant or nervous or worried about letting someone like that in your brain. Your pain is terrible, but you've also never known sentience and independence without it. It's part of your identity, and losing that's a scary idea, even if the alternative means more pain. You can take as much time as you need, and don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I don't want to talk about th..." fiVe cuts herself off, realizing that that was exactly what she said to Sylvie. "No. No we should talk about this, shouldn't we? Me hiding away from the two of you and going silent is what I did wrong last time. And... I said I wouldn't do that to you again."

"Only if you feel you're ready."

“I won't give her the satisfaction of her trapping me in silence again," fiVe says, sounding frustrated. "Because she was right about that, damn it all. I went silent because I didn't know how to make her sound wrong. I can't stand it when she's right about me and, to make it worse, she knew it too."

"But she's not,” Miranda says. “She thinks she's right, but just like before, she thinks that she somehow has the right to tell you what's best for you. It's your mind, your body, your identity we're talking about. You're the only one who gets to make decisions about what you do with them. Not Sylvie, not Vee, not Horner, not Zhu, not Seiko, not even me. If you're not ready, you're not ready, regardless of your reasons."

fiVe goes silent for a while. "...but I am, Miranda. And... I told Vee that. I have no fondness for this pain, no matter if it is connected to my independence. I want to be able to think without being afraid of the attacks. And... Sylvie's been beaten down and chastised and threatened enough that she wouldn't dare try anything if I let her in. I'd have to admit I was wrong, though. But I'm starting to realize that's a selfish way of thinking, and I'm hurting myself with it." Her voice shifts slightly, taking on a different tone as her language changes. "レイカは正しい"

Seiko looks up. "れいかわファイヴァがじゃがありません"

"I'm a little like her, though, you must admit," fiVe says fondly, switching back to English. "And I have the chance to heal that she doesn't. All I have to do is... admit that I was wrong to Mansen."

"She doesn't…" Seiko says a bit distantly.

Miranda frowns. "...I'm missing something here."

"It's nothing, Mira. Just some very good advice I was given." fiVe says, then gives a short glitchy screech. "M-Miranda. It's-s-s Miranda. I'm t-too Seiko in the Japanese... I'm-m sorry."

"It's okay," Miranda says after a moment. "What advice are you talking about?"

"Just someone with a similar situation to mine, who doesn't have the... same opportunities that I do," fiVe says, her voice mimicking Seiko's distant tone. "Part of what I did when I was... hiding from the two of you was, well. I talked to Reika. And she gave me a lot to think about."

Miranda looks over at Seiko. "She's... like me, isn't she?"

He pauses, then nods. "In some ways. Her damage is... a bit more extensive."

Miranda sighs. "fiVe, you don't owe anything to anyone. You don't have to heal just because we can't. I can't speak for Reika, but if I could get rid of my pain right this second, I'd have to think about it. I don't even know that I would want to, honestly."

"I... I know," fiVe says. "I should probably think about this some more. But I've been thinking about it for... weeks now. And I think my decision is almost been made. I'm sorry. I'll... go be alone for a bit, I think."

"Alright. Take as much time as you need, and know that I'll support you in whatever decision you make."

"I know," fiVe says softly. "Thank you. Both of you." She lowers her audio and video inputs for a while, retreating into the cold processing of the servers to think on her own.

Scene 4 – March 18, 2021

A few hours later, there's a knock on the apartment door.

Miranda peeks through the eyehole, still on edge from earlier. She sees a very embarrassed-looking Sylvie set something down, take a deep breath, and then quietly walk away down the hall. Miranda waits for a few moments before carefully opening the door, looking at what it was that she'd left. There's a small bag of chocolate covered pomegranates and a folded note taped to the outside sitting exactly in the center of the doorframe.

Miranda picks up the bag and pulls off the note. "Seiko," she says, holding up the bag as she reads. "Any idea why Sylvie left these here?"

He smiles. "What's the note say?"

She reads it aloud:

Dear Seiko, Miranda, and fiVe,

I’m sorry about… well everything that happened this afternoon. Vee has informed me that it was inappropriate and probably really rude. I guess I was kinda caught up in my anger at fiVe and I let myself get carried away. (But what else is new with me, right?)

I figured apologizing was probably a good idea, but I didn’t think you guys would want to talk to me again after I was… well, thrown out. So, here. I can’t really screw up a written apology too badly right?

Miranda, I’m not sure if you like chocolate-covered pomegranates, but I know Seiko does. Or… I think he does. That was kind of a weird night and I might be misremembering. If you want me to get you or fiVe something different just text me or something. I probably owe you one anyway. Or like, seventeen really. You guys put up with a lot of my crap. Sorry.

And, to fiVe: I’m sorry for the way I… pretty much attacked you in there. I’ll try to back off and be better in the future. (Though really, we both know I’m right and you should just let me heal you already.) But, I’ll wait until you’re ready for that, and I’ll try not to bring it up again. Whatever you would like me to do for you, I’m here to help with. And nothing more. In regards to fixing your damage… I guess I’m ‘yours to command’ or something like that. Vee thought you’d like that. I think.

Anyway. Sorry for being rude and well, everything else I’ve done to you guys over these past few weeks. I’ll try to be better. Really. Feel free to yell at me when I’m out of line. I think it’s finally starting to have an impact on me.

~Sylvie M.

P.S. fiVe, despite my rather vocal objections to it, Vee thinks your Roomba is cute. Ugh. She made me write that, I’ll have you know.

Seiko laughs when she finishes.

Miranda sighs, setting the note and the pomegranates on the table. "Well, an attempt was certainly made."

"I think we can all agree that Vee is a saint and any positive aspects in that note are due to her influence, yes?" fiVe says. She hopes that Seiko and Miranda didn't notice the cooling fans on her server picking up speed at the Roomba comment.

"And she likes your body," Seiko says with a grin.

Miranda stares at him. "Oh my god, did you just…?"

"It's too bad I couldn't see her reaction firsthand... I'll simply have to imagine for myself based on Miranda's reactions to you, won't I? I can only hope it was something similar." fiVe says back. "She did manage to get Mansen to offer to be at my command though, which is appreciated."

"Shut up, fiVe," Miranda says, turning pointedly away from both of them so they can't see her face.

"I'm just saying, Mansen wasn't the only one distracted during the sparring match," fiVe says, sounding altogether too amused.

"Maybe I should go find Sylvie and ask if she knows why your cooling fan's been acting up lately," Miranda says in response.

An embarrassingly loud whirr starts up in the other room. "That... I have no idea what you're talking about," fiVe says, not the least bit smoothly.

"Of course not."

"In an attempt to change the subject," fiVe says, "I'd ask if you're planning to ask her for anything. Mansen, that is. As per her offer."

"I'll be keeping the offer in mind," Miranda says. "It never hurts to have someone owe you a favor down the road."

"Well, in that case, do you mind if I call her with my request? I've got something rather interesting I'd like to see."

"Go for it," Miranda replies, still seeming distracted.

fiVe pulls up her calling program, then realizes with amusement that Sylvie won't recognize her number. Not wanting to seem secretive, she puts the call on speaker.

After a few rings, Sylvie picks up. She sounds very nervous at having answered a call from an unfamiliar number. "H-hello? Who is this?"

"Sylvia," fiVe says flatly. "You offered to give me something as part of your apology. I'm calling to ask it."

"fiVe?" Sylvie says, sounding surprised. "Oh, uh yeah I did. I... wasn't actually expecting you to take me up on that, to tell the truth. Figured you wouldn't want to talk to me."

"Well you were wrong," fiVe says. "I want a recording of one of your editing sessions with Vee."

"You want what?!" Sylvie sputters.

"Editing session," fiVe says. "And don't try to pretend that you don't do them. I know that one of the only reasons you let me corrupt Vee all the time and break her processing is so that she can report back to you and help you figure out my damage. I want to see one of your attempts to fix her."

"I..." Sylvie pauses, then swears. "I can't send you a recording of that, fiVe. It's got my editing access codes in there, and I'm not comfortable with those being on record anywhere outside my head. Also, part of the point of them being secret is so that you and Vee don't have them. You two are not allowed to edit yourselves down to the core processes. That's why the codes are there in the first place."

 "So change the codes temporarily for this one recorded session and then change them back," fiVe says, undaunted by Sylvie's excuses. "I know you can do it, and Vee wouldn't object. If I know you, you're trying to figure out how to fix me without actually having access to my files. I want to see how close you're getting. Call me curious."

Sylvie sighs. "Fine. Give me a day to get all the accesses changed and I'll see what I can do. You really weren't supposed to figure out that we were doing this, damn it."

"You're not that difficult to figure out," fiVe says. "And I know that all of Vee's talk about 'wanting to understand what you're going through' comes with the unspoken caveat of 'so that we can figure out how to fix you.'"

"I don't know how you got so good at negotiations, fiVe. You certainly didn't get that from me."

“I consider most of the good things about myself as the things I didn't get from you, Mansen."

"I... yeah I'm going to hang up before I say something I'll have to apologize for again." Without saying goodbye, Sylvie's line clicks dead.

((Click here for more from The Sydney Scroungers Campaign))

[askthescroungers]

Eleanor- who is your hero and why?

Ah--what an interesting question!

My mother, for one. She was always very outspoken, and told me to do what was right, even when I had no allies. I try to live up to that.

And I also greatly respect President Noémie Boulanger, of France. She was the first female presidential candidate since Ségolène Royal in 2007, and I am so glad that she won in 2017. Her pro-individual-rights views are sur le pointe, as they say. 

(By the way, though my mother was French, I don't speak much of it. I keep up on politics through the internet, and that's about it.)

[mutjinga-industries]

Welcome!

Welcome to Mutjinga Industries Ltd's social media presence. We are a technologies research company with a focus on assistive and developing technologies. Follow us on Tumblr for updates on our research and fun corporate culture!

[zelda-tempest]

Consider, for a moment, what you would expect from a Schlock Mercenary storyline in which Tagon's Toughs were told to keep collateral damage to a minimum. Now imagine yourself embedded in that scenario, and armed with something that goes "OMMMINOUS HUMMM" when turned on, but which you've been instructed not to use under any circumstances.

Howard Taylor (x), describing the (currently under development) Schlock Mercenary roleplaying game

[renarinkholin]

10, 34, 23, 14 for any four of your oc's

Alright, I’ve already done Len, Kasten, and Sylvanni. So... let’s do Vanaline (seductive seraph executioner who controls and kills people with her voice), fiVe (damaged AI copy of Sylvie Mansen’s memories who wants to be her own person), Andra Lavellan (an Inquisitor OC that I have not yet had the pleasure of writing, but she’s fun to play), and Eliane Casuana (Allomancy-phobic Seeker informant from the Elendel United modern-Scadrial RP). Quite the cast...

10. Would your character ever kill someone?Vanaline: Kills people for a living. Enjoys it quite a bit.fiVe: Has thought long and hard about whether or not she would kill Sylvie if she had the chance. She can operate weapons and will kill bad guys in self defense or to protect Seiko and Miranda.Andra: Knows how to fight fairly well, but dislikes killng. She much prefers to find another way, but she can hold her own in a fight if/when she is attacked.Eliane: Avoids killing almost completely. She works in some dark stuff, but there are lines even she won’t cross.

34:What is cliche about your character?Vanaline: Too beautiful. The sexy, killer seductress is a somewhat overused trope.fiVe: Weird special name. Also: “No dad Sylvie, I’m giving up on your dream.”Andra: Tends to have everything work out her way by blind luck. She believes she’s guided by faith, and that this is her destiny.Eliane: Oh Harmony, she’s a barista in a coffee shop, pls ignore the self-insert side of this.

23:Is your character morally gray or black and white?Vanaline: I’d almost argue that Vanaline falls under Blue and Orange morality. Seraph society is... so very different values-wise. Like, she considers herself a good person because her society says that she’s a good person, despite the fact that most other societies would VEHEMENTLY disagree. For the intents of answering the question, she’s morally gray, tending toward black. She considers herself black and white, tending toward white.fiVe: Morally gray. fiVe once argued that the fact that she wasn’t human meant that the laws of human morality didn’t likely apply to her. Not to mention, Sylvie, Miranda, and Seiko are not exactly the most morally justified trio, and all their personal moralities jumble together in fiVe’s head.Andra: Black and white, through and through. Starry-eyed flower child, like dang.Eliane: Black and white, though she can justify the necessity of doing wrong things, she still believes they are wrong and feels guilty about them.

14:What is the cutest thing your character has ever done?Vanaline: Oh goodness, Vanaline and cute? Those are two concepts that just don’t go well together. Uh... sometimes she uses her powers to entertain people instead of killing (not that her killing isn’t also meant as entertainment...) I’m just going to go ahead and label Vanaline as “not cute.”fiVe: Sometimes when fiVe gets scared, or her memory damage is paining her, she asks Miranda or Seiko to rub patterns across her tablet’s touchscreen. It’s the closest she can get to human touch.Andra: I feel like Andra kind of leads the Inquisition on ‘power of cute’ alone. She’s got kind of this forceful optimism that’s kind of infectious. Also, she’s a great cuddler.Eliane: Eliane tends to get clumsy when she’s flustered or surprised. She’s been known to drop things when Jace surprises her with sudden cutes.

[esseastri]

Okay, so, I just finished reading an ARC of Brandon Mull's newest book (it comes out in March, so it wasn't a very advanced advanced readers' copy but…) and

And it's really cool that I get to read ARCs now, but it's also VERY frustrating because I can't talk to anyone about it but…well, let's put it this way: the main climactic conflict in this book reminded me forcibly of certain characters and their attitudes in Sydney Scroungers and…this book left me with a very bad taste in my mouth because no, that is not how you treat sentient beings, I don't care if they "came from you" and "are part of you" that's just…not how it's done. 

So basically, my AI feels are strong tonight and I probably won't be very good at my job in March when my job is to sell people this book and I won't be able to because AI prejudices are a thing. Damn, Sydney Scroungers. 

.

(Okay, but properly reviewing? the new Brandon Mull book, Five Kingdoms: Sky Raiders, is a pretty good book, sentient beings and such aside. There are some really cool things in it; the world he's built is pretty spectacular and the magic is very cool. I like most of his characters (Cole is a sassy little sixth grader and he reminds me a bit of Percy Jackson, which is always a good thing). I am in desperate need of more girls, though, especially ones that don't get fridged after the first three chapters…The one lovely lady who is one of out main characters is fantastic, but I could do with a few more Miras. But it definitely has some spectacular moments and I would probably recommend it to people who like a) other Brandon Mull series, b) middle-grade fantasy with hints of harder sci-fi, c) people who aren't artificial intelligence rights activists.)