#thing is at the start an automated message tells me it recognized my phone number

[yoghurt-bimbo]

i think my bank just blocked me???

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Seven): Flying Towards An Early Grave

Notes: Still posting my little backlog, I will warn in advanced, the next chapter is the heist (finally) AND IT IS A CHONKER, but for now have a little appetizer with some fun times, smut, and foreshadowing!~

Word Count: 10860

Chapter Warnings: heavy foreshadowing, food, blowjobs, groping, protected vaginal sex, car sex

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V’s body is heavy as she gets to her apartment door, ready to curl up into bed and call it a day. She’s exhausted with adrenaline gone. She presses her thumb to the panel. The little intercom doorbell is also the lock, scanning and searching for SID validation. It takes a moment to scan, it seems to be lagging more lately. 

Calling. 

The intercom says it’s calling, why is it calling? She can hear the automated ringing and her lights inside are probably flashing. It only does this if the SID doesn’t match the apartment owner’s, assuming them a guest. V presses again. 

Calling. 

She presses harder. 

Calling. 

She tries her entire hand.

Calling. 

She kicks her door, a heavy sound as her boot collides with it. That doesn’t help with the lock, but it makes her feel a little better. Just what she needs; bloody, sore, and locked out of her apartment for who fucking knows why? Her stomach growls as she pulls up the number for building maintenance. 

“Megabuilding Maintenance, how can I help?” 

“I’m locked out of my apartment,” V signs, her choker translator on. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The lock isn’t recognizing my SID.” 

“Can I get your name and apartment number?” 

V gives them the details and they say they’re sending a maintenance guy. All of the services floor is nearly shut down at the late hour, her stomach growling. No doubt the maintenance guy will take his sweet fucking time, so much for getting some decent sleep. She gets a burrito, a Nicola, and a little thing of ketchup from the machines. Sitting on the ground near her door, dumping ketchup on her burrito as she eats it. 

By the time the guy arrives she’s finished eating, drinking, and is a little unsure what’s dried blood versus dried ketchup on her shirt. She hops to her feet when she sees the guy walking up, a massive case of resting bitch face. V doubts he wanted to be dragged out at three am to help unlock a door, but it’s not her fault the tech fucked up. 

“You V?” he asks, voice gruff and annoyed. 

“Yep.” 

“Hard day?”  His eyebrow raises, gaze focused on her blood stained flesh and chrome. 

“Work.” 

“Ah… I see,” he nods, “so, what's the issue with your door?” 

Night City is one of the few places where one can just admit to being a mercenary for a living, even if it did earn her an odd look. V presses her hand to the lock button again and it once again initiates a call. 

“Doesn’t recognize my SID.” 

“Hmm, you are V, right?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Who the fuck else would I be? The building has a picture of me on file for fucks sake.” 

“Hey, hey, nowadays with enough eddies anybody can look like anybody.” 

“If I had an identity worth stealing, you really think I’d be living here?” 

“Fair enough, let’s check something,” he pulls out a holo tablet, jacking it into the bottom of the intercom lock, “this will show what the lock is reading it as, try again.” 

V keeps an eye on his tablet as she presses her hand back to the lock and the projected information starts to show. And for a moment she sees herself; her face, her name, her information, and all the shit Vik had to set up for her to have SID. Then in a blink of an eye it glitches out and the information shifts. She watches her nearly mugshot like photo shift into that of a man, with short dark hair and dark eyes. V [REDACTED] becomes Robert John Linder. Birthdate shifting from November 12th, 2056 to November 16, 1988.  Birthplace shifting from Seven Devils, North Carolina to College Station, Texas.  

Who the hell is this old man? 

“Looks like it’s reading your SID chip as someone else's, strange, any chance you’ve been spiked by a ‘runner?” 

“No, even if I was, not sure why they’d want to make my SID register to some senior citizen.” 

“Weird, can’t think of how else this would happen? Seems like it starts to read your chip and then changes to this guy’s. Do you know him?” 

“Don’t hang around old folks homes too much, actually. Just some random dude to me.” 

“Hmmm.” 

“I can promise you, I’m not a ninety year old cowboy man.” 

“Somehow I noticed that, actually… looks like the guy is dead.” 

“What?” 

“Mmhmm, scroll down a bit and there’s the date his death certificate was issued,” the guy shows her, “you’ll probably need to have your SID looked at, see what’s wrong with it. For now, I can unlock it for you and have them add whoever this guy is to registered owners, so, you won’t be locked out until you fix it.” 

“Fine, I guess.” 

“But that does mean if this guy’s ghost decides to pop in for a visit, lock won’t stop him,” the man jokes, offering the first smile since he’s been here. 

“Somehow I’ll handle it, thanks for the help, and if it’s not too much trouble can you forward me the details of that SID info?” 

“Sure, no problem,” the maintenance man’s eyes glow and she can feel the very soft warmth and whirr of her neuroplant as it accepts the file. 

She gives one final thanks as he unlocks her apartment and she’s finally able to step foot inside. Thankfully her door locks behind her and she makes a beeline for her shower, scrubbing blood and sweat from her skin; finding bruises, cuts, and flesh wounds she hadn’t noticed in the midst of fighting. 

It takes her a little longer than expected to wind down for the night, the merc putting in her optic contacts and playing with the bot. Looking through its eyes, she has it twist and climb all throughout her apartment, making herself dizzy until she falls out of  bed and bangs her head against the floor. Finally, putting the cute spider looking tech away when she feels the knot starting to form on her head. Then, setting her alarm and sleeping for the night. 

V is still tired when her alarm vibrates beneath her pillow, waking her up as the sunlight streams in from her large window, warming her skin. She checks her phone, double checks the time and that Dex hasn’t sent the car for her yet. The young merc rushes through her morning routine; showering, brushing her teeth, dressing, and taking her medication with some Chromanticore in hopes of getting some energy back. 

She’s out the door and has her  mask on in a matter of minutes, phone buzzing with the message that Dex’s car is waiting for her. As she comes down the steps of her building she sees the same limousine and bodyguard waiting outside of it. But this time when he opens the door for her, there is no Dex, nobody. Chills creep their way up her spine, but she gets in nonetheless, sinking into the leather backseat as Dex’s guard starts to drive them away. 

The guard is quiet, doesn’t explain where they’re going or why, V has a feeling he wouldn’t tell even if she asked. So, she doesn’t. Only the radio drones on, a mixture of news and occasional pop music from bands and singers she doesn’t know or care to know; an anouncer coming over the radio to speak somberly. 

“Today marks the fifty-fourth anniversary of the attack on Arasaka Tower. Fifty-four years ago a group of terrorists stormed Arasaka Tower and detonated a bomb, which forever changed the history of our dear city. Devastating the lives of millions; thousands dying in the initial attack and more perishing in the aftermath as well. Today we ask for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in this senseless act of violence so many years ago….:” 

A beat of silence, barely a moment, then the high energy voice returns. 

“Now, after this short music break, we return with the heartwarming story of Stumpy, the three legged puppy who’s gone viral after the use of  veterinary cyberware has given the pup a new lease on life!~” 

V rolls her eyes, sounds about right, barely a moment for something so somber. No real grief or empathy, time to move on to a cute puppy because that keeps people happy and listening.  She watches the city around her change, spotting the Valentino graffiti starting to cover the buildings and that they’re entering Heywood.  She sends a heads up text to Jackie, letting him know they’re not far from his house. 

A short moment after,  the driver is parking outside Jackie’s garage and she watches the older merc walking out. The guard opens the limousine back door and Jackie relaxes when he sees V, climbing into the seat next to her. 

“Hey, V, you figure out what’s going on?” 

“Was sort of hoping you had…” 

“Asked T-Bug, said it’s a surprise.” 

“Not sure I like Bug’s idea of surprises.” 

“Hey, hombre,” Jackie calls out to the guard as he starts to drive them away, “mind telling us where we’re headed?” 

They’re met with silence, because of they are. V nervously wrings her hands as she watches for signs of where they’re going based on the passing scenery. 

“Has to be something to do with prepping for the job, just wish I knew what.” 

“Speaking of which, you got the bot on you?” 

“Yeah, brought it just in case and if Bug’s there she’ll want to take a look. Wonder if there’s any chance of keeping the Flathead after this?” 

She knows Dex said it’s a single use toy, but...who knows, maybe she could somehow keep it afterwards. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Its cute.” 

“You think a military grade combat bot is cute?” 

“It's a little spider.” 

“You find the weirdest shit cute, I swear.” 

“It is cute!” 

“It’s-” Jackie looks out the window, “shit are we in Corpo Plaza?” 

“Maybe we’re just passing through?” 

As if only to prove her wrong, the limousine parks outside a store on Senate Avenue, the bright sign says Jinguji. Even looking through the window, it looks entirely like a place that her and Jackie do not belong. Brightly lit, immaculately clean with fancy designer clothes on display. 

“We’re here,” the guard tells them and the doors open with the press of a button. 

V and Jackie share a look before getting out of the limousine, standing before the Jinguji store like deers stuck in headlights. 

“Dex can’t be serious, Jinguji?” Jackie says, scratching at the shaved underneath of his hair. 

“Looks…. Fancy.” 

“Corp store, designer; a sock in there will cost you a few thousand eddies.” 

“I know he says we need to play corpo, but… I don’t know, it feels weird.”

“I’m sure Dex knows what he’s doing. But, uh,  you gotta take off the mask, chica.” 

“What, why?” 

“‘Cause its fucking Jinguji, they’re not gonna let you through the door looking like that.” 

“You’re one to talk, you got a ketchup stain on your shirt.” 

“Firstly, that’s blood. Secondly, you’re a wearing a jacket you stole off a dead guy last week.” 

“Not like he needs it!” 

“Jackie, V!” A voice yells out, drawing the merc’s attention into the doorway of the store, T-Bug in realspace, wearing a black netrunning suit, “would you gonks stop bickering and get in here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the mercs speak and sign in unison, falling the netrunner into the corp store.

There’s a large lit up advertisement at the back of the store. Gold decor dripping down from the ceiling, plush white couches, and an ice bucket with champagne. To her surprise, there’s no other shoppers within the store. A man in a tailored designer suit sits at the desk, greeting the two mercs as they walk in. 

“Welcome to Jinguji, an oasis of elegance!~” 

V gives an awkward nod and wave. She’s not sure what else to do. She doesn’t belong here; she knows that much. A dirty black leather jacket under the bright lights and old raggedy boots on shiny polished floors.  The merc wants nothing more than to run out of the store, some of the clothes she sees displayed are nice, if she’s being honest. A few bit tacky for her taste, but others are cute or sexy with dramatic flair, but nothing she would ever really have a reason to wear. 

“Mind telling us why the fuck we’re here, Bug?” Jackie asks and the netrunner chuckles. 

“To get into Konpeki, you two will have to look the part. Rather than blindly guessing what will fit, Dex is flitting the bill and getting you both some corpo threads,” T-Bug explains, taking a seat on on of the couches. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“Store is rented out for the next couple hours, discretion. V, did you bring the bot?” 

“Got it in my bag.” 

“Lemme see, got to make sure it’s in working shape.” V puts the bot down on the table, T-Bug opening the case and looking over the bot, running diagnostics that the merc can’t begin to understand,

“Right this way, you two, I’m sure we’ll find something perfect for both of you,” the man who greeted them, grabs their attention again, “but it would be easier,  if I have a full idea of your features, miss.” 

“Told you,” Jackie taunts and V elbows him in the side, slowly taking off her mask and she feels bare. And she knows people have seen her face before, but this is work and it just feels… wrong. 

“Wonderful, so we’ll begin with the gentlemen, I think you’ll find we have a wonderful array of fine suits in our men’s department.” 

The man, who’s fancy name tag says Zane, shows them a vast collection of suits. They range from slick classic black ones, deep navy blues, florals, brights, embroidered, and every color she can imagine. Its hard to imagine the big merc in any of them. She’s always seen him in muscle shirts or his favorite red and black jacket. His eyes seem to land on a red suit with gold detailing. 

“Well-” 

“Point is to blend in, not stand out, Jack,” T-Bug calls out, scolding him without having to even look at him or his choice in suit. 

“Just black then.” 

“Wise choice, sir, our tailors will get your measurements and get the perfect fit for you.” 

Another employee guides Jackie to a fitting room and V feels the sudden urge to sink into the ground, Zane’s attention now solely on her.  She scratches at her cheek and flips on her choker translator. 

“Now, what about you? We have plenty of formal options in women’s fashion as well. A more androgynous business suit or perhaps a dress?” 

She’s shown mannequins dressed in tight body con dresses with various necklines, materials, colors, and a few well fitted pants suits. Her eyes are drawn to the dresses, if she’s being honest. She has a rather small collection of skirts and dresses, for off days, but she never has a chance to wear anything more formal than a sundress or mini skirt over leggings. These dresses are dramatic, gorgeous; some with mesh inlays or cut outs. 

But, like Bug said;  they’re there to blend in, not stand out. This isn’t an outfit for fun but for work and if something goes wrong, the last thing she needs is this going to shit and having to battle in a tight constricting dress or too high of heels. 

“I think a pants suit in black would be best; keep it simple.” 

“Understood.” 

V taken to a fitting room, given the chance to put on the ready to buy pantsuits in privacy. A stark white button up blouse, black blazer, and black slacks. And she knows immediately it will need to be tailored to suit her; the pants longer than her legs and the shirt loose around her chest. The tailor comes in after a moment and begins measuring, marking where things need to be taken in and raised. V left trying not to get embarrassed each time the measuring tape is wrapped around a part of her.

“Is there a way to make the blazer sleeves easier to roll up?” She signs once her arms are done being measured. The material is stiffer and harder to get tight around her elbows when trying; she wants her Mantis Blades easily used.

“Hmm, lets see, maybe it’d be best to use it more like an accessory rather than wearing it properly?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you could just wear it over your shoulders like a cape,” the woman drapes it that way across V’s shoulders. 

“Not my thing.” 

“Then you can carry it, like this,” the woman shows  holding the jacket back over her shoulder with her fingers hooked in it’s collar. It looks alright, casual enough, though having a jacket and not wearing it still reads as strange to the merc.

“I’ll consider that.” 

“It can also help keep you cool. Now, lets talk about makeup, hair, and shoes.” 

V listens and nods as the woman gives recommendations; getting V a pair of low heeled black synthetic leather shoes. Then going into advice on hair; recommending french twist, a bun, or a low ponytail depending on how formal V wants to go. The woman recommends simple classic makeup styles and a few other tips for the merc to meet her full corpo potential. Finally, with measurements, adjustments, and everything marked; V is allowed to change back into her street clothes. She leaves the room, seeing Jackie already in his regular clothes again and sitting next to T-Bug. 

“We have all the measurements down and will begin altering the clothes immediately.” 

“Good,” T-Bug confirms with Zane, “remember we need them finished and delivered to The Afterlife by five.” 

“I assure you, our tailors are already on it.” 

“V,” T-Bug calls out when she sees the short merc, “got something for you.” 

V sits down on the couch, watching as T-Bug sets out a pair of white hearing aids. They’re designed like her normal ones, just more boring. 

“Hearing aids? I already have those.” 

“These are special, optic camo. No corpo worth their salt has anything less than top of the line phonic implants, with press of a button or a thought, these will go invisible.. They’ll work just like your regular ones, but look like you’re wearing nothing. Try them out.” 

She switches her blue hearing aids with the new ones, they fit well and she pushes the thought of turning the camo on.  V catches her reflection in a mirror in the store, she can feel them, but see nothing. 

“Perfect, no one will be any the wiser. This also means no signing or translator.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

“I know its not ideal, but it’s just the reality of it. Corpo types like this; lose your hearing, new implants. Vocal chords fried, get a new set in gold. Get paralyzed, new legs or entire nervous system. Go blind, new optics. They see you signing or using hearing aids, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb.” 

“I get it.” 

“No sweat,  I’ll do the talking, V,” Jackie comforts her and then turns his attention to Bug, “So, what now?” 

“We’ll go over the full plan this evening at The Afterlife, you two need to be there by five. We’ll talk with Dex and you’ll be in Konpeki by eight tonight, relic in hand before midnight strikes.” 

“So we get to kick back and relax until five?” 

“As long as you’re there by five and ready to go, I couldn’t care less what you do, Jack.” 

“Said this place was rented out, right?” V asks, noticing a dramatic purple dress that reminds her of a certain tarot card reader’s favorite color.

“Yeah, why?” 

“How much longer is this place reserved?” 

“Another hour, maybe two and again, I ask why?” 

“Ow, hell that for, chica?” Jackie looks up when V kicks him in the shin. 

“Call Misty, dumbass. Buy her something nice, make a date out of it before we go on the job.”  V tells him, remembering Misty’s concerns from the other night. It might ease her mind a bit to have a nice afternoon with Jackie, dress shopping and a fancy lunch in City Center. Just a chance to enjoy themselves. 

“Dex is nice V, but sincerely doubt he wants to pay for Misty a new dress.” 

“Oh no, if only one of us had scammed ten grand off of Militech, oh wait,” V says, pulling the Militech credchip from her bag and sees the twinkle in Jackie’s eyes. 

“You serious, V?” 

“Should get her a hell of a nice dress, maybe you a suit, and a nice fancy lunch; play corpo for an afternoon.” 

“Shit, V,” he takes the credchip from her fingers, “what’d I do without you?” 

“You two are going to make me puke,” T-Bug says, rolling her eyes while Jackie is already calling up Misty. 

“Just wait until Misty gets here and the constant pet names start,  you’ll really lose your lunch.” 

“Ugh, more reason to get out of here, I’ll be taking the Flathead with me to keep in working shape.” 

“Can I ask you something before you go?”

“Got more code you need me to check?” 

“Not quite, had an issue with my SID chip last night, was wondering if there was a chance I was hacked?” 

“You get spiked, jaina?” Jackie asks when he finishes chatting with Misty. 

“Don’t know, couldn’t unlock my door last night, reader thought I was some old dude.” 

“Hmm, SID hacks are tricky, we’re going to be using one for your covers in Konpeki. But they usually only alter your ID a bit and die after so many hours. Thing is, that wouldn’t really benefit anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, I don’t think anyone would get much out of pretending I’m some ninety year old dead fuck.” 

“I can jack in, see if I find anything in your soft.” 

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” 

V shifts her back to T-Bug, sweeping her hair off the nape of her neck and showing her neuroports. The netrunner pushes some loose strands out of the way and slots her personal jack into V’s biomon. A few moments pass and V can feel her cheeks flushing a bit, a weird feeling to having T-Bug directly touch her and jack in to her tech. This is the first time they’ve met in person, may even be the first time Bug has seen her face. 

“Everything looks clear to me, SID is registering as yours, no signs of a hack,” Bug explains, jacking out. 

“Weird, maintenance guy showed last night it was showing as some dead guy.” 

“Strange, must be some sort of glitch.” 

“Or you’re being haunted.” 

“Haha, very funny, Jackie.” 

“Hello… “ 

A soft voice calls out and V lights up seeing Misty poking her head into the fancy luxury store, looking every bit as nervous as V had been. Jackie is up and rushing towards Misty in a heart beat, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around, kissing her head. 

“You’re here, mi carina.” 

“Babe,” Misty says, giggiling as she’s put back down on her feet, then steps up on her tip toes to kiss Jackie’s lips. 

“Gonna puke,” T-Bug comments low under her breath and V tries not to laugh. 

“V, Bug,” Misty smiles at the two, “glad I got here before you two left out.” 

“What’s up?” 

Jackie walks Misty over closer to them, large hand on her hip as she rummage through her purse. After a moment, she pulls out three beaded bracelets. A mixture of beads in black, gold, and blue mottled with gold. T-Bug is already raising her eyebrow and V’s not sure how well Misty’s spiritualism will go over with the runner. 

“These are protection bracelets. Lapis lazuli, black tourmaline, and gold sheen obsidian. They’re all meant to help with creating a protective spiritual barrier, it should keep you all safe from negative energies and frequencies.” 

“Ay, you still in knots over this, mi alma?” 

“It would just make me feel better knowing you have a little more protection, babe.” 

Misty slides the biggest of the bracelets onto Jackie’s wrist and he gives her a soft smile, kissing her temple before starts to give the others to V and Bug. The young merc slides it on with a smile and T-Bug takes it in hand, with a less enthusiasm. 

“Thanks, Misty, I appreciate it,” V tells her and elbows T-Bug in the side, earning her a glare, but the netrunner plays nice. 

“Thanks…” 

“I know it’s not much, but a little protection is better than none and should keep energies bright.” 

“Right….” 

“Well,” V cuts in before Bug can say anything else, “we’ll be getting out of your hair, have fun you two!~” 

“Thanks again, V, see you two at The Afterlife.” 

Jackie waves them off, Bug packing up and V putting her usual hearing aids in their case, away in her pocket. The runner and young merc leave the store, Dex’s guard already left a while ago, so V will have to either call her car or use the public transit. Come to think of it, she’s not sure how she’s going to kill time until its game time. 

“V,” Bug stops her outside Jinguji before they go their separate ways for now, “gotta ask, you really believe in that spiritual crap?” 

“No, but she does and it makes her happy, so, why not?”

“I guess, if she really thinks a bracelet is going to save us from Arasaka.” 

“Won’t kill you to accessorize a little, Bug.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

They say their goodbyes and V is left thinking again about what she wants to do to pass the time. She could do a few short gigs, but her mind is preoccupied with the heist. Ultimately, V finds herself taking the NCART to El Coyote Cojo. Mostly just because she’s bored and maybe something or someone there will occupy her time.  The bar isn’t too active at the early hour and she doesn’t see Mama Welles around. 

“V!” Pepe greets her when she walks through. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“Same old, same old. Jaquito is still out, Senora Welles is out shopping, but Jake is taking out the trash in the back if you want to say hi.” 

“I think I might go and do just that.” 

Playing grab ass with one of her go to lays seems like a solid way to waste her time. V walks through the bar and out one of the backdoors that open to the alley with the dumpster. Sure enough, Jake is there tossing away a trash bag. He’s around 6’5 about as tall as Jackie, muscular, with a head of ginger hair shaved down on the shades and a thick beard. 

She throws her arms around his waist, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt. He teases his fingers over her forearms, the chrome of his Gorilla Fingers cyberware sending a soft chill through her skin. 

“Hey, V, new chrome?” He runs over the chrome patterns in her arms. 

She hums against his back in response, not wanting to move. But, he twists in her arms. He cups her face in chromed fingers, for a moment, his browns furrow in confusion. 

“No hearing aids?” 

She pulls away, enough space for her to sign. 

“Camouflage ones, it and the blades are necessary for the gig.” 

“Oh yeah, Jackie’s been talking everyone to death about this heist you two got planned. He better be damn glad no one here’s got loose lips.” His hands drop from her face and loosely wrap around her waist, fingers starting to graze over her ass. 

“Can’t blame him for being excited.” 

“Hmmm and you?” 

“Nervous.” 

“Figured as much,” he squeezes her ass, “you looking for a distraction?” 

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be letting you grope my ass in broad daylight, now would I?” 

A low dry chuckle echoes in his chest and he dives in for a kiss. It’s quick and rough, his beard scratching over her skin before he pulls away. She can’t help but giggle as he pulls her back into the bar, hand still shamelessly on her ass. 

“Pepe! I’m going on lunch break!” 

“Yeah yeah, go on.” 

“C’mon,” Jake guides her out of the bar, “lemme at least buy you lunch first.” 

“You actually trying to be nice today?” 

“Something like that.” 

V settles into his passenger side seat as Jake climbs behind the wheel. They pull away from El Coyote Cojo, driving around Heywood and finding a drive in to go through, Burgers, fries, and pop bought; Jake finds a relatively empty place to park meanwhile V has already begun taking the pickles off her burgers. 

“So, you wanna actually talk about it?” Jake asks, taking a bite of his burger. 

“Not much to talk about,” she signs with salt covered fingers and a mouthful of fries, “biggest job of our career. Nerves are natural.” 

Not to mention the shady client, the fact they’re robbing Arasaka, the fact they’re robbing Yorinobu specifically, the fact they have to play corpo, that V will have to force herself not to sign, and that every fiber of her being is screaming that something  is going to go wrong. Then she has the weirdness of her SID chip fucking up on her mind as well. 

“Yeah, but you overthink, so I know that little brain of yours is spinning in a billion directions.” 

V shrugs, “No more than usual, so,  what’s been going on with you?” 

“Not much, been thinking of quitting the bar.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, get to work the day shift so I can pick the twins up from school and spend some time with them. But, day shift in a bar basically means staring at a wall and waiting for Senora Welles to cut me a paycheck.” 

“You don’t like getting paid to sit around and look pretty?” 

“Not gonna lie, it’d be hard to find a boss as forgiving as Senora Welles.” 

“Not every boss would let you take an hour or longer lunch just to play grab ass with me?” 

“Eh, pretty sure if she knew what I was doing with her precious adopted daughter, she’d already have me fired.” 

“Oh please, she’s known you longer than me.” 

“Yeah, but she likes you more, you’re basically her kid and I’m her employee,” he pauses watching V roll her eyes, “you know, she’s been worrying a lot about you and Jackie, lately. She knows things are getting riskier with the merc work and-” 

V quiets him with a kiss, not wanting to hear another word of this. She comes to him for a distraction. The kiss is messy and he tastes like greasy fast food, but she’s sure she’s not any better, pushing her tongue into his mouth. She cups his jaw with one hand, scratching over his beard and as he deepens the kiss, she drops her other hand into his lap. He’s already half hard in his jeans, pressing into her touch as she gropes him through the denim. Jake curses against her lips, breaking their kiss. 

“You talk too much, honey,” she chastises him, a soft smile on her lips as she undoes his belt buckle, he lifts his hips, allowing  space to pull his pants and boxer down just enough to get his cock out. 

She pulls her legs up into her seat, on her knees so she can fully lean over the center console into his lap. V pushes hair back behind her ear and takes his dick into her mouth; not bothering to tease, swallowing around him. The taste of him on her tongue causes a heat in her center to stir, getting slick between her thighs as she bobs her head up and down. He groans as she strokes and sucks him, teasing her tongue ring along the head of his cock. The bitterness of his precum and the salt of his skin making her dizzy with need. 

His chrome fingers slide across the expanse of her back, reaching out to grab her ass. He gropes and fondles her through her pants, the rough feeling of her jeans and panties being pressed against her sensitive wet folds. Jake curses as V alternates between sucking, licking, and taking him as deep into her throat as she can. 

He tugs on her hair, bleached strands wrapped around chrome, pulling her mouth off him. Drool covering his cock and her lips. She pouts at him for stopping her, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.  He gives her a swat on the ass, barely hard enough to sting. 

“Want inside of you.” 

That’s all the explanation he gives and she pulls away, thankful that the windows of his car have steamed from body heat, she begins to quickly strip off her clothes. Its clumsy as she tries to strip down in a car seat, throwing her jacket off into the back, kicking off her boots, before yanking her pants and panties down in one fluid movement. She curses herself for not wearing a skirt or something with easier access. A part of her mind recognizes how stupid she must look, still in her shirt, bra, and her socks staying on after tugging off her pants. But lust has killed her ability to think, just wanting him inside of her. Jake has rolled a condom on, but otherwise has simply watched the flustered merc strip down. 

V’s easily able to jump into his lap, straddling him and having her back to the steering wheel. She steadies herself with one hand on his shoulder, the other lining his cock up with her entrance, sinking herself down onto his dick. She’s slick enough that she takes him all in one movement, both cursing out at the feeling. The stretch of his cock inside of her and the tightness of her cunt around him. Jake digs his nails into her hips and bounces her on his cock, fucking up into her. He takes complete control, setting a brutal pace that leaves V reeling with every thrust. All she can do is wrap her arms around his neck and moan against his sweaty skin, accepting each harsh movement of him inside of her. 

The tension inside of her grows tighter with every thrust, every smack of skin against skin like a strike of a match trying to grow a larger flame. She can’t think, can’t focus, every thought consumed with pleasure and a desire to be pushed over the edge. Bruises form on her hips where he hold her, where he uses her for pleasure. The chair of his cheap car creaks with each bounce and a few thrusts slams her lower back into the steering wheel, but she doesn’t care, couldn’t if she tried. She whines and whimpers against his skin, feeling her end nearing. 

And then the tension snaps, orgasm hitting her fast and hard, she digs her nails into his skin, squirming and writhing as she moans out her pleasure. Mind a haze as she’s overwhelmed with her pleasure. He thrusts a few more times and she nearly chokes at the continued stimulation, the feeling of him fucking into her already sensitive cunt. Then he curses, bringing her hips down fully to meet his own one last time before he cums, spilling his seed inside the condom. 

V rolls off of him and back into the passenger seat, hating the empty feeling  Her skin is sweaty and flushed, as much she hates it, she needs to get her clothes back on. Fumbling to get her pants and panties out of the passenger side floorboard. Pulling them on and shoving her feet in her boots. V waits as Jake ties off the condom and adjusts his jeans, opening the car door and tossing the condom away into a nearby dumpster. 

The Night City air feels cool compared to the heat of the car after fucking, she watches him light up a cigarette outside of the car and grimaces. He climbs back into the driver's seat, keeping the window rolled down and she makes a gagging sound as the smoke hits her nose. 

“You coming back to the bar with me?” He asks, blowing smoke out of the window. 

“No,” she signs, thankful the choker translator can survive sweat, “I’ll catch the train back to Watson.” 

“Let strangers see you sweaty and fuck-dazed?” 

“Well, it’s a good look for me.” 

“Can’t really deny that, now can I.” 

She rolls her eyes and grabs her jacket getting out of the car, walking away on still slightly wobbly legs. V takes the train back to Watson, fiddling with her holophone the entire way. The merc gets off at the stop closest to her megabuilding and makes her way to her apartment; lock recognizing her on the first try. 

V checks the time and decides to get ready to go to The Afterlife. Those nerves she had managed to fuck away for a moment creep up on her all over again. She shakes her head not wanting to focus on her anxieties, she strips down and grabs a shower, cleaning off the sweat from her liaison. 

The merc pulls her hair back in a small low-set ponytail and does her makeup to the recommendations of the stylist. She gets dressed and uses the new camouflaged hearing aids, she takes her mask with her too. Though she knows she can’t wear it into Konpeki, she’ll still be walking into The Afterlife. That thought alone twists her guts into nervous knots. 

The Afterlife is the go to bar for the top of their game, Major Leagues mercs and fixers. It’s where the biggest deals are made, the easiest place to catch a drink and a job, but only mercs or fixers of a certain standard are allowed through its doors. Jackie brags about the place like it’s heaven for mercenaries. If they’re going to become regular fixtures of the bar after this, then she’d prefer to maintain her usual level of anonymity for fixers moving forward. She’ll drop the mask when they’re finally in corpo threads. 

V slides on Misty’s bracelet as well, fiddling with the beads meant to provide some form of protection. Her mind goes back to Misty’s tarot card reading, while she doesn’t put much weight on it, her friend’s fortune telling often sticks with her. The Wheel of Fortune is sticking out to her; she could care less if the cards thinks she’s stupid or if she’s about to fall in love, the latter of which so ridiculous she can’t help but dismiss it. But the idea of conflict sticks out, fear of the heist going wrong has been heavy on her mind. Something always goes slightly wrong, no job is perfect. But this has the highest stakes she’s ever encountered. 

V has new cyberware, the best possible tech and upgrades from Vik. She has Jackie, her best choom and partner in crime who’s never let her down. There’s T-Bug, her friend and brilliant netrunner who could bring half of Night City down if she wished. Their fixer is Dex, one of the best in regards to his job, he has everything to gain by having their backs covered. They have military grade tech and an inside look into Konpeki. They are going in under the best possible circumstances. 

She has to remind herself, review this again and again, that if something goes wrong someone there should be able to take care of it. But, those nerves don’t fade even as she leaves her apartment. 

The Afterlife isn’t far from V’s apartment, practically a hop and skip downtown. Barely five minutes pass before she’s under the roofed alley, nearing the club. Vivid cyan and purple graffiti across the wall, trash along the way.

“Porque ya tengo planes para esta noche!" 

The voice is familiar, Jackie’s and V pressed her back to the side of the vending machine, he’s telling someone he already has plans for tonight. He sounds frustrated, like he’s on the verge of pulling his hair out. 

“Virgen Santsima, ma! Te vas a enterar mañana,” a beat of silence, “también te quiero, ma."

The conversation ways on her, he’s talking to Senora Welles. Remembering Jake talking about her feelings, that the matriarch has been worrying herself half to death. And it sounds like Jackie has been on the receiving end of that worry for a while.  V pulls her mask on and rounds the corner past the vending machine, stepping in front of the main entrance of The Afterlife. Her friend standing in the doorway under the harsh green light. 

“Heh, about time, chica,” he greets, tucking his phone into his pocket, she catches the blue of Misty’s bracelet mingled with his usual gold ones. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Ehhh, y'know. She's worried about me - whatever. Can't help herself, y'know - checkin’ to see if I'm not rottin' in some dumpster… like most of the Welles boys. Been worse lately.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Started climbin' our way up. Got more an' more knives out there, waitin' to stab us in the back. Higher stakes, higher risk. She can see that.” 

“Look like you’re about to keel over.” V reaches out, touching the red blotches on his skin, stress and sweat inflaming his skin. 

“Years of merc work, and yet,  still sweat like a roasted pig when I talk to my ma. It's really startin' to wear on me. More tell her everythin's OK, more I feel like I'm straight-up lyin’.”

“Well, hopefully you had a nice date with Misty at least.” 

“Went about as well as talking to my ma right now,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “for two women who don’t get along, they sure agree when it comes to worrying about me.” 

“They worry because they love you, worse things in life than people giving a damn about you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t matter none. Not anymore, Afterlife, here we come, baby!” 

Jackie changes the topic and she can’t really blame him for it, rubbing his hands together and practically cheering in excitement. This is everything they’ve talked about, everything they’ve said they want. So, why does she still have a lump in her throat? 

“Afterlife… we’re really here.” 

“Does not get any higher, choom. And you know somethin' else? We fuckin' earned it, chica!” 

“No point in standing around then, is there?’ 

“Ready to get your cherry popped?” he laughs leading her into the club, “Yeeeah! Come on!”

“Little late for that one, Jack,” she teases as they make their way down the stairs, a pair of double doors opening up for them. A short step down into a small hallway with mercs and fixers alike talking under the green glow of a sign bearing the club’s name. 

“Place used to be a morgue - you believe that?”

“Really?” 

“I know, right? Way before our time, that. When proper burials were still a thing.”

They come to another set of doors, through the small window V can see the true club main room beyond them. But a man stands guarding them, around Jackie’s height and a similar bulky build. Cyberware indented along his jawline and nose. His face is stony, eyes sharp when Jackie and V stop before him, then he puts a large hand out in front of him. 

“And who might you clowns be?”

“Jackie and V,” the taller of the mercs says with a grin, “Dexter Deshawn is waitin’ on us.” 

The bouncer gives them a look and V is glad for her mask helping hide her emotions. His expression is dismissive, looking down on them, making her feel all at once that she has not earned her place in this club. A baby merc, new to the city, barely six months under her belt and she’s standing at the Afterlife. How the fuck did she get here? 

“Yo, Dex. Got two live ones sayin' they're here to see ya,” his optics glow as he calls Dex, “Yeah? All right, then. Says he needs a second or two. Go get yourselves drinks or somethin'.”

The doors open to a green and cyan lit club. Music louder as the barrier breaks away, people fill the room. Some sipping on alcohol and other’s puffing away on cigarettes; the smell of nicotine and booze wafting from the bar. 

“Way ahead o' you, viejo,” Jackie laughs and leads the way in. 

V follows him around the corner; the large bar coming into full view. It’s lit green, the same neon sign reading Afterlife at the top of it. A bartender in a blue button up slings drinks to the patrons. Floor to ceiling columns, like tubes, are places around the club each filled with water with a dancer twirling around inside with strategically place chrome clothing covering the most private parts of them. Everything is basked in that green neon light, despite being surrounded by mercs like her, she feels so completely out of place. 

Jackie marches proudly across the bar floor, stride confident and unwavering. 

“This is it… The heart o' Night City! That's it right there - beating. Hear it?” he proclaims as they pass by rows of half closed off booths, “Can you imagine? Susan Forrest, Boa Boa, maybe even Morgan Blackhand… All sat on those stools, fell asleep on that same bar.”

Jackie sits in one of the barstools, beaming and brimming with excitement. His eyes wide as he takes it all in, the place he’s dreamed of for all his years. V climbs into the seat next to him, placing an elbow on the bar, leaning her head onto her hand, as she shifts to face him. 

“Doubt that puts us in the same league as them,” V teases, Morgan Blackhand brought down Arasaka Tower. They’re stealing a biochip, hardly the same thing. 

“Oh, but we are. They just don't know it yet,” Jackie tells her with a wink and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“We-” 

V drops her hand when she realizes Jackie’s attention has gone elsewhere, an older woman walking past the two. She’s nothing unusual, older looking than most of the crowd here, sure but nothing immediately stands out to V. An older woman with long gray hair shaved on one side and a bright yellow cropped sweater, She marches her way across the bar and into a blue lit booth, moving past a guard.  

“'Ey. See that old lady there?”

“Yeah, didn’t know grannies were your type,” V taunts him again, he’s always given her shit for her taste in older people, yet he’s ogling some grandma? 

“Fuck off,” he playfully smacks her, but nearly knocks her from her chair, “that’s fuckin’ Rogue, best fixer in all o' Night City.” 

“Thought Dex was the best?” 

“Pff… Rogue was linin' up jobs when Dex was still shittin' in diapers, heh. Place belongs to her.”

“What can I getcha?” The bartender cuts in, hands down on the bar in front of them. She’s a woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a soft round face. 

V doesn’t drink on the job, something she’s always stuck to. But, this is Jackie’s dream and she knows how he likes to celebrate. If nothing else, their banter has failed to undo her nerves, maybe booze will do the trick. 

“You order,” she signs to Jackie and he grins. 

“You drinkin’?” 

“Special night, pick me something nice.” 

“Two Tequila Old Fashioneds with a splash of cerveza and a chili garnish.”

“A duo of Johnny Silverhands, comin' up,” the bartender starts to put the drinks together, “somebody did their homework.” 

“Guessing the dog ate mine,” V signs, confused because what the fuck is a silver hand?

“Age-old tradition. Drinks're named after our regulars,” she explains, putting the drinks down in front of the mercs. 

“What’d I have to do to get a drink named after me?” 

“Snuff it,” she grins, “ In mind-blowingly spectacular fashion, Mid-op'd be best.”

“Aah, what a beaut of a tradition!”

“Steep price for a drink, not going to lie,” V signs, letting her nerves speak for her, if only for a moment. Her guts are in knots, she can only hope the alcohol will untangle. All of the merc’s usual stress relieving tactics other than a weed brownie, have failed to do much of anything.

“Hey, everyone's gotta go sometime, right? Why not in style? Death’s nothing but the final flourish!” 

“To hitting the major leagues,” she signs, holding her shot in the other hand.

“To becoming legends.” 

She pushes her mask just up above her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick and  they throw back their shots. Smooth but strong booze with a kick of spice from the garnish, a burn in her throat. Not her style, but she’s had worse. She pushes her mask back down, regarding the bartender, her nametag says Claire. 

“So, who else can I drink here?” She still has no idea who Silverhand is, but maybe there’s a name she does recognize, reading the posted drink menu. 

“All on the menu…”  

“'Cept there's a spot missing. Morgan Blackhand, right?”

“Heh,  true. Morgan's yet to make up his mind he's dead or still kickin',” Claire tells Jackie and V rolls her eyes. 

“Think he’s still alive? It’s been years,” Jackie asks Claire. 

“No way he’s still alive,.” The radio was just talking about the devastation of the tower going down, if that many folks were killed who were just near it, then there’s no way someone who was in the tower survived. 

“Why not? Look at Rogue. Peeps from that era - a species unto themselves.”

“And one day we’re gonna be there too,” Jackie probably proclaims, “speaking of which, name’s Jackie Welles if you want to write down my recipe.” 

“Sure.” There’s a playfulness in her tone, just going along with Jackie’s whims. 

“Shot of vodka on the rocks, lime juice, ginger beer… oh, and most importantly - a splash of love.”

“Haha, I'll remember that.”

“Gag,” V signs just to see the glare Jackie levels her way, the playful smack of her arm. 

“Okay, what’s your drink then?” 

“Literally, the only thing I drink is like cherry cola with a splash of bourbon.” 

“You know those are usually supposed to be reversed, the bourbon and coke.” 

“Maybe so, but, and hear me out… cherry cola tastes better.”  

“Heard you were Dex’s latest finds,” Claire tells them. 

“Just biz, no big deal.”

“How'd you know?” V raises an eyebrow behind her mask. 

“My job to know. Look around - how do you think meres earn their reps? Through gossip rivaling that of schoolgirls, that's how.”

“Mr. DeShawn see you now,” a booming voice rings out behind the mercs, turning around she sees Dex’s bodyguard. The first time she’s heard his voice. 

“Love to hang, imbibe the vibe, but we got an important meeting,” Jackie tells Claire, getting up from his seat and V following suit, throwing some cash down on the bar. 

“Break a leg.” 

“This way,” the bodyguard tells them and the mercs falls in line behind him. He leads them around the bar, past the crowd and through a door towards the back of the club. The lighting shifting, more blue than green as they walk past another vending machine. 

“Damn, holmes, you're huge... Work out?” Jackie asks, unable to stand the silence. 

“Hmm.” A vague grunt as they pass through another door, the music fading as they get further from the main bar. But V can just hear the starting beat of some old dad rock, something about losing another day to pointless drudgery. 

“Same here, y'know, in the ring. You do some kinda exotic shit? Kempo? Ninjitsu?”

Nothing as they turn another corner. 

“Think you could take me, drop me?”

“Jackie…” Why must he sound like he’s picking a fight with the guy?

“In here,” the guard says, stopping and standing in front of another door. 

"Este pinche tipo..."

The door opens and they’re greeted to the first room with warm lighting, though it just seems to be a storage corner. With a cabinet and vending machine. But to the left are barely see through walls of a booth that takes up half the room, through them V can just see T-Bug’s outline and leather couches. 

They walk around, the front of the booth opened. A wrap around black leather couch goes around the back wall and left side of the booth. Dex sat on the back portion, talking into a holo about Excelsior and cold hard eddies. T-Bug sat to side, a table in the center of the room with the Flathead, Jinguji boxes, and shards placed on neat little index cards. There’s a small disconnect leather seat in the right corner, next to the door. 

“Gotta bounce,” Dex hangs up, “well, if it ain’t Miss V.” 

“Whole family in one place! Hah! Finally!”

“That’s one way to put it,” T-Bug teases and a shine of blue catches V’s eye, the netrunner wearing Misty’s bracelet. She can’t help but smile. 

“A’ight, then… Set your butts down comfy,” Dex tells them. Jackie plops himself onto the larger couch next to T-Bug, comfortably spreading his arms over the back of it while V takes the smaller seat, putting her at an angle to see everyone.  She stifles a laugh, seeing Jackie’s leg excitedly bounce up and down. 

“Sweet booth, is it soundproof?” 

“Jackie…” T-Bug scolds and V stifles a laugh. 

“Now, now, Mr. Welles is right. We gon' be goin' over some sensitive material. But if it's all right with y'all, I'd like to start with a question for Miss V… Evelyn Parker - how'd you fare?”

All eyes on her, stomach still twisted in a vise, this is her chance. She’s got to tell him, but she doesn’t want Evelyn hurt. Some fixers will go to any length to get revenge on a client or merc who does them dirty. But, he’s got a right to know the shit she pulled. 

“Intel was good, brain dance was exactly what we needed….” 

“So, she just wanna see wha'ss good, or was there somethin' else?”

“Honestly?” 

“Wouldn’t ask for anything else, Miss V.” 

“She’s high risk as far as clients go. Shady as fuck, naïve as all hell, and genuinely thought she could make me another offer.” 

“Another offer?” Dex’s brow raises about his sunglasses. 

“Wanted me to cut you out for more cash, told her no, of course. But, wouldn’t do business with her again, if I were you.” 

“Cut me out… shiiiit, now that’s rich,” Dex laughs, Jackie nervously laughing along, “Clients... never learn, do they?” 

“You’re not pissed?” 

“Lived in NC too long to blow my top every time some amateur thinks they can take me for a ride. Parker ain't the first and sure as hell won't be the last.”

“Fair enough,” V lets out a sigh, thankful if nothing else that Dex doesn’t seem prone to getting too mad at Evelyn. Maybe she’s being too kind, but she can’t help but think Evelyn is more naive than malicious when it comes to the offer. A stranger to the merc world. 

“I do appreciate you sharin' this info, though, Miss V. You see, trust… …is essential in any partnership that's to be long-lasting and fruitful.”

“Figured you had a right to know, so, what’s the plan?” 

“This.”

Dex gestures towards the shards on the table, V takes the one in front of her and slides it into her shard slot.  UI and graphics lighting up her mask, a map pulling up on the tech. 

“Me and Dex've already covered the fine detes. Ops wise, should be a stroll on the beach.”

“Elaborate, I wanna hear it.” 

“A Delamain'll drop your asses at the front door of Konpeki Plaza,” a picture of the hotel shows,  then two names, “You'll stroll right in thanks to your false identities. Then, with Bug's help, you'll breach the hotel's subnet…”

“Mine and the Flathead's help.” Images of the hotel’s interior and the bot flash by. 

“Last but not least, you slip into Yorinobu's penthouse and klep the Relic,” his words bring up images of the heir and his suite.

“Goes without sayin' we do this on the hush - ideally no bodies, not a one.” The shard shows them The Relic and then blips out. 

“You'll have T-Bug on comms for the duration. Time for your burnin' questions.”

“What’s our cover?” V asks, they’ve been told a thousand times they’ll be acting like corpos, but that’d be hard to do if they have no idea what their story is suppose to be. 

“Hello, Ramón Victorino,” T-Bug looks at Jackie and then to V, “and you’re Hannah Conwell.” 

“Ramón - yeah, OK. What do we say we're there for?”

“Biz as usual. Corpo arms deal. Case anyone asks, you there for a bogus meetin' with Arasaka's defense rep - Hajime Taki. Anything else?”

“How do we get in the penthouse?”

“Yorinobu's got barely any muscle. Hardest part'll be penthouse security. If we wanna disable, we'll need to neutralize Konpeki's dweller - elite ‘runner monitoring the hotel's subnet twenty-four seven. Only catch is there's no way to get in the dweller's den from the outside.”

“Hold on, how you want us to get inside a room you can't get into?”

“Trust me when I say whatever hitch you think up. T-Bug's solved it already”

“This is where the Flathead comes in. You'll have to get him in the ventilation shafts, guide him to the dweller and force the dweller to… take a break. Flathead'll stay there, jacked into the dweller, but thanks to that I’ll be able to roll out your red carpet into the penthouse.”

“Anything else?”

“Transports a Delamain?” She has no idea if the company has an ASL sign like most other corporations and doesn’t have time to think of one on the fly. 

“Preemest cab company in all Night City… Nada mal,” hackie tells her. 

“DeShawn don't ever work with anyone but the best. I consider Delamain just that.”

“Yeah, who needs creepy, nosy cab drivers when you've got a clean AI to get you from point A to point B in style?”

“And how he bags a permit to operate every year's still a mystery.”

“If everythin' goes as planned, Delamain'll drop you back here. If things get sticky, he'll head for the safe house.”

“Which is?”

“The No-Tell Motel. Quiet, no questions asked. Make our next move from there. But I'm flat certain that won't be necessary. Though, there is one more consideration for if it does.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Hate to put you on the spot, Miss V,” Dex explains, “but if shit goes sour, I’m gonna need to know who I’m letting into the hotel. Mask can’t go with to Konpeki, so I’d sure feel a hell of a lot better if I knew what was hiding behind that thing.” 

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.”  

Even if she’d have Jackie with her when shit goes down,  Dex is trusting her with this heist. The least she can do is trust him to see her face and not write her off or sell her out to The Herd if the chance arised. Not that she can see that happening anyway… 

“Don’t even know why you wore the thing in, V,” Jackie teases. 

“Well, there are other fixers here, didn’t want to give away my face…” 

V carefully pulls off her mask, feeling exposed all over again, a new set of eyes on her face. The merc knows how she looks; five feet with a head of bleach blonde hair and big gray eyes. Not the picture one conjures in their mind when they think of a capable, strong, badass merc. Sprinkle in her disability and the reactions to her deafness; most people think she’s not a threat, weak. 

“That what you’ve been hiding behind that mask? All that fuss, for what?” Dex laughs. 

“Hard to take,” she stumbles over her English trying to sign at the same time, “be taken- seriously sometimes when you’re five foot nothing, deaf, and look like…” 

“Gutterpunk Barbie,” Jackie cuts in to tease, earning him a sharp kick to the shin. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Trust me, Miss V, you pull off this job; ain’t nobody in their right mind gonna underestimate you” 

“That’s the hope...”

“Any other questions?” 

“I got a question. When do we get to the real reason we're all here?” Jackie asks, shooting a wink V’s way. 

“Now's a good a time as any. Fresh talent gets thirty percent always, but I'm willin' to make an exception in your case. I'ma cut you a nice, juicy forty as a bonus for your honesty, V.”

“Much appreciated.” 

“Ka-ching baby!~” 

“Last thing, Konpeki's got a strict no-iron policy. Security gates, the works. So you dawgs'll leave your lead-spitters in the ride, take the Flathead inside in its case.”

“Got your suits from Jinguji on the table.” 

“¡Chido!”

“Thanks, Bug.” 

“So, not to count chickens, but when'll we see our eddies?”

“All depends how Ms. Parker unrolls herself or her role, but a week, two tops is my guess.”

“And what do we do in the mean time?” 

“You sit tight, heads down, 'cause ol' uncle Arasaka be watching. Now, as that ol’ Greek dawg says, life's a banquet - so don't go thirsty, but don't get drunk, either,” he tells them as he leaves the booth, “Your chariot awaits outside.”

“My cue to delta, too. Gotta prep to jack in, be there when you come on comms. Any other issues, now's your chance,” T-Bug tells them, shifting her feet and something catches V’s eye. Delta V emblazoned on the netrunner’s boots, was that there before?

“Plan - your take?” V shakes the thought from her head, must be a brand or a runner thing V doesn’t know.

“Enough, I hope, to put me in a luxury Creton Villa from which I'll never set foot in cyberspace again.”

“Send me a postcard?” 

“No offense, but I'm gonna burn any and all bridges - need a clean break.”

“Gonna take Misty’s bracelet with you?” Jackie teases, grinning because he caught it too. 

“Shut up,” she tells him, rolling her eyes. 

“Uh, just realized something, what’s gonna happen to our clothes? I don’t want to lose my mask…” 

“No worries, put them in the boxes, we’ll have ‘em sent back to your places.” 

“Alright then, lets get this show on the road.” 

“Let's get to work, go ahead and get changed, Delamain is parked out front, uh, okay-”Bug starts to trip over her words when the two mercs start taking off their jackets, “you can use the bathrooms.” 

“Eh,”

Jackie and V shrug their shoulders, the outfits are right there. Not much point in dragging them out to the bathroom. The pair shared a bedroom for the better half of six months, a room with one bed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty, boundaries destroyed a long while back. 

“Why do I bother,” T-Bug rolls her eyes and leaves the booth, letting the pair change. 

V kicks off her boots and takes off her socks, Jackie tugging off his jewelry first. 

“So, you’re nerves still going crazy?” Jackie asks her as she tugs off her shirt, his own tossed off. 

“What do you mean?”  She tugs off her pants, both mercs soon standing around in their underwear. 

“Can’t hide that shit from me, chica, been giving me twice as much hell as usual. You’re freaking out.” 

“High stakes, Jack, of course I’m a nervous mess. Means I give a shit.” 

She pulls the slack on and tugs on the white blouse, buttoning it up. The two of them putting on the corpo clothes, similar in look. Black slacks, white button up tops, black suit jackets, and Misty’s beaded bracelets for protection. Each perfectly tailored for their body types. 

“Don’t sweat it so much, V, we got this.” He sticks his fist out. 

“Sure fuckin’ hope so.” She bumps her fist to his. 

Their street clothes are packed away in the boxes, V puts in her optic contacts and slide on her heels, then they start to make their way out of the booth. But, Jackie stops her with a hand on her shoulder and he taps his throat. She catches on taking off her choker translator, neck feeling bare and odd without the tech. With that they leave out through the club, Jackie carrying the Flathead case and the smaller merc keeps her head down as best she can. Her stomach still in knots as they spot the Delamain in the parking lot. 

Her life is about to change forever; hopefully for the best. She’s on the cusp of having everything she’s wanted since she’s come to the city. The verge of earning the respect of everyone in this city and finally feeling like she’s someone, like she’s done something. 

So, why does she feel like she’s about to puke?

[firebrands]

#8 roommates au for stevetony pleaaseee ❤💙

save, saving, saved, g, 1.3k | “roommate au” + stony bingo prompt fill “chronic hero syndrome ” | on ao3

Steve pads out of his bedroom and stops when he sees Tony in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he types on his phone. The kettle is beginning to sing, and Tony huffs and drops his phone before turning off the flame.

“It’s four in the morning.”

Tony looks up at Steve with a start. “I wanted noodles.”

Steve sighs and massages his temples before walking to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “Do you rest? Ever?” He asks, after taking a drink.

“Why are you acting surprised, honestly,” Tony says, not looking at Steve as he tears open a foil flavor packet with his teeth and dunks its powdery contents into a steaming bowl.

Steve stifles a yawn and leans his hip against the counter. “You know,” he starts. Tony’s head tilts to his phone, which buzzes with a notification. Steve very gently lays his hand over it, making Tony look up at him. “You know, you don’t have to do everything.”

Tony’s lips quirk into a condescending smile. “But I can, so.”

Steve slides Tony’s phone closer to himself, and Tony lunges forward, reaching out for it. “Hey—”

“Go to sleep,” Steve says firmly.

“You know I can access my messages from my laptop,” Tony says, taking a step back and reestablishing acceptable space between them.

Steve smirks at Tony. “Thanks for the tip,” he says as he pockets Tony’s phone and runs to Tony’s room. Tony realizes what he’s done a second too late, and he fumbles around the furniture as he tries to beat Steve to his room.

Steve hugs Tony’s laptop to his chest, smiling triumphantly.

Tony narrows his eyes at the abject betrayal. “I have important stuff to do, Steve.”

“Yeah, like eat your noodles and go to bed.”

Tony scrunches up his face and walks back to the kitchen, dragging his feet. Steve follows, smiling all the while.

“I hate you,” Tony says, and begins noisily eating his noodles. “Do you want some,” he asks, tone flat.

Steve shakes his head in response. “No you don’t,” he says, a teasing grin still on his face.

Tony rolls his eyes and turns back to his noodles. “No, I don’t,” he murmurs under his breath.

***

“How was your day?” Steve doesn’t even turn to look when Tony enters the apartment, can tell who it is from the heavy sigh that follows once the door clicks shut.

“Which part of it?” Tony groans, dumping his bags on the floor then falling, face-first, onto the couch.

Steve reduces the heat on the stove and walks up to Tony. After a few seconds of being disregarded, Steve pokes him in the shoulder. “I’m making spaghetti.”

Tony makes a broken sound, then turns up to smile weakly at Steve. “You’re my favorite, you know?”

Steve grins. “Yeah, I know.” As he continues cooking, he can hear the tell-tale signs of Tony resuming work—whichever aspect of work that may be. Steve knows he’s helping with Stark Industries already, developing designs for his dad. But he knows too that Tony’s helping out with more than a few school organizations; from what he remembers, he’d offered to help automate student council elections, set up the website of the Herald, and was helping some mechanical engineering freshmen with their projects as a favor to one of their professors. On top of that, he managed to volunteer time for the advocacy groups, too—donating money and setting up partnerships.

Tony’s in the middle of a call by the time the food’s ready. Steve waves his hand at Tony, who is standing by the window, pacing.

Tony raises his eyes in response and holds a finger up, and Steve sits down with a sigh. Tony was doing too much. Ever since they became roommates, he was always doing too much, and a small part of him feels that Tony only suggested that they become roommates because Steve had asked. Which is to say, Tony never said no to anyone who asked anything of him.

“Sorry,” Tony says, sliding onto the seat opposite Steve and almost slamming his phone, face down, onto the table.

Tony rests his head in his hands, and sighs again.

“You okay?”

“Thanks for cooking.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve grins, and they tuck in. “You still have work to do?”

“Yeah I have a few more lines of code left to do for the website, and then I can send it off to beta testing. Then I can start revisions on the system for elections, and, well. You know. How are you, though? How was your day?”

Steve looks up from his food and cocks his head. “Fine. Working on a new painting.”

“Can I see?”

“Yeah, when I’m done,” Steve says with a laugh.

They’re silent for a while.

“You sure you can’t take a break tonight?” Steve asks.

“Oh, why? Something urgent?”

“No,” Steve says, shaking his head and sighing. “You just seem really tired.”

“Well,” Tony says, noncommittal. “You know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

***

It’s happened often enough that when Steve finds Tony passed out on the couch, he doesn’t make a fuss. Instead, just gets a blanket from Tony’s room and drapes it over him.

Today he feels a little kinder than usual, so he adjusts Tony’s head on the pillow, and leaves a glass of water beside him.

***

It’s another ungodly hour in the morning when Steve finds Tony working in the kitchen. When Tony sees him, he turns away and stifles a sniffle.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, rushing toward him.

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs, still turned away from Steve.

“Hey.” Steve gently turns Tony to face him, recognizing that Tony doesn’t have a cold—he’s crying.

“I’m just really tired,” Tony says, laughing despite the tears running down his cheeks. “But I’m okay.”

“If this is okay, then I’d hate to see what bad is,” Steve says, smiling a little. He hands Tony a paper towel, and Tony blows his nose noisily. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine, I really need to finish this thing,” Tony says, waving his hand around and gesturing vaguely to his laptop.

“No, you don’t,” Steve says, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist. “C’mere.” He leads them to the couch and sits Tony back down. He doesn’t need to say anything—Tony immediately buries his face in Steve’s shoulder and lets out another soft whimper, like he’s holding it back.

“I know I sound insane because I took all of this on and I’m just—I’m trying, and it’s hard, and it shouldn’t be, and it wouldn’t be so hard if I just stopped crying,” Tony says, all in one breath. “It’s dumb, you can laugh,” he adds wetly.

“I’m not laughing,” Steve says soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down Tony’s back. He’s never seen Tony cry before, and it makes a lump form in his throat, but he pushes past it.

They sit like that for a while, almost tangled together.

“You shouldn’t beat yourself up like this,” Steve says, after a while.

“I know, I know,” Tony says harshly. He pushes himself off Steve’s chest and looks up at him. “But I know that I can, too.”

Steve shakes his head softly, and pulls Tony back, worried that at any moment Tony would scamper away and take his laptop with him. “You need to say no to people, Tony.”

“But I can do it,” Tony insists, but he tucks his head closer against Steve’s shoulder.

“I know you can.” Steve breathes in, steadies himself, and then runs a hand through Tony’s hair. “But not all at once.”

Tony sags against him, letting out a deep breath. They fall into silence, again, and the next thing Steve knows he jolts awake because his head was falling forward.

Tony’s still tucked against him, breathing softly against Steve’s neck.

Steve smiles to himself, settling into the couch and tightening his embrace around Tony. If this is what it takes to get Tony to sleep, then he doesn’t mind at all.

send me a number and i’ll write you a short au

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [2]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 2, in which Dante hunts for clues and to who he is, and where he is, when he reconnects with a long-lost relative.

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Chapter 2: Pictures and Clues

Dante spends a full ten minutes just sitting on the bed in his underwear. He reviews every step of the night before: Nero texting him about this job, catching the train to Fortuna, the two of them driving out to the warehouse with the radio blaring and picking up burgers on the way. Then the demons, dozens upon dozens, that weren't difficult but packed to the brim so that when they pried open the front door of the building they swarmed like roaches.

He had found the queen at the top, but there it gets fuzzy. It talked to him, but about what? Something about his family? Every time he gets to that part, his headache turns a little sharper, so Dante decides to give thinking a rest so he can figure out where the hell he actually is.

His jeans are slung over a chair so he grabs them and fishes inside for his cell phone. It's different from the one he normally has, and he frowns as he turns it on and finds a passcode. He tries the first thing he can think of—1, 2, 3, 4, easy enough—and luckily it works. Quickly he dials Nero's number, but isn't really surprised when the automated voice comes on the line to tell him that number is not in service.

Dante scratches the back of his head. He's here, in a strange house with a woman who knows his parents, and Nero is… somewhere. Got it.

But then he wonders if something might have happened to Nero. What if he needs his help? Then this has got to be a dream, right? So how does he wake up?

Once he pulls his jeans on and finds a t-shirt in the other set of drawers, he tries the door. Cautiously he opens it, but the house is quiet, so Dante slips into the hallway. There are two other bedrooms and a bathroom which look suspiciously normal. Even the closets are tidy, and Dante snorts when he gets to the linen closet. This must be a dream. Who owns so many towels?

Next, he heads downstairs to the main floor. At the bottom is a living room, complete with a comfortable-looking sofa and a big-screen television. Dante stands in front of it and admires it for a minute before grabbing the remote control. He lets out a low whistle when he sees the picture quality, thinking if this is a dream, he's got good taste.

That demon's got good taste.

Dante shakes his head and continues his search. A small dining room is to the left, and to the right is a hallway leading to another half bath. The kitchen is nice too, the dishwasher humming and a pot of coffee warm on the counter. Even the refrigerator is stocked, and Dante helps himself to a piece of chicken he finds in a plastic container, figuring he can eat whatever he wants in a dream.

Out the kitchen window he can see a little backyard, and Dante sighs as he leans against the counter and chews thoughtfully. It's a nice enough house, something any ordinary couple might buy for a starter home. He glances down at the gold band on his finger, holding it up so he can examine it closely. Setting the chicken down, he wipes his hand on his jeans and slips it off, turning it over until he notices an inscription on the inside: Dante and Lir Forever.

He pictures the cute blonde who was half his size but acted more than familiar. "Lir," he murmurs out loud, slipping the ring back on as he looks around.

Wandering back through the house, Dante notices some pictures sitting on the windowsill in the living room. He walks over and picks up the first one, his face going a bit pale. He is in a suit, and that woman‚ Lir, is in a wedding dress. They are posed and smiling in front of a cake, holding a knife together as if to cut it. He turns it over but there's nothing out of the ordinary about it, and Dante snorts as he sets it back down again.

The next few are of them as well: a selfie in winter gear, posing in what Patty would call "Sunday attire", in bathing suits at a beach, arms around each other and grinning at the camera. He's gotta admit, they look pretty good together. His brain did a good job dreaming this girl up.

The next photo, however, feels like a punch to the gut. It's a double-sided frame on a hinge, and on one side it's him and a man who looks exactly like him, only his hair is slicked back instead of hanging in fringes around his face. In fact, he looks exactly like what Vergil would look like. If he was still alive.

Dante's hand shakes as he examines the picture. It is Vergil, it's got to be, the same slightly slimmer build and the half-inch in height that made it possible to tell them apart. The only thing that shocks him more than seeing this picture is the one opposite. Across from Dante and Vergil posed with small smiles is Vergil and Lady, her hand in his arm as they smile into the camera.

Gripping the picture frame, he grabs the next one and braces himself. Staring up at him are two people he somewhat recognizes, as if he had seen them in a dream. They are older, in their 60s maybe, the man grinning with his arm around his wife, sitting together on a couch. He has longish silver hair, not unlike Dante's, a pair of glasses hanging around his neck. Her blonde hair is swept up into a bun, streaks of white only making her more dignified, her hand on the man's knee. Dante brings the picture up so close his nose nearly touches it, and that's when he realizes that the woman is a dead ringer for Trish, if Trish was about 40 years older.

His cell phone rings in his pocket, startling him out of his examination. Dante fumbles for the phone but freezes when he sees the name Vergil appear on the screen. It takes another three rings before he gets the courage to answer. "Yeah?"

"Did I wake you or something?"

Dante staggers to the couch and sits heavily, still clutching the two pictures in his hands. He knew what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for hearing that voice on the other end. "Dante," it says again. "You there?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, his voice cracking around a dry throat. "Verge, is that you?"

"Of course it's me. I want to talk about tonight." Dante's eyes close as he listens, trying not to freak out. Even Vergil's exasperation for him is the same. "I'm paying for dinner, and I don't want to hear anything about it. We need to settle this now so we don't argue at the restaurant."

"What uh…" Dante's mind is spinning and he shakes his head to clear it. "Yeah uh, Lir mentioned something about a dinner. Do you know Lir?"

"I'm surprised you forgot, Dante. Usually you remember these sorts of things." Dante leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tries to breathe. "This dinner tonight is important and I don't want a scene. Just let me pay for it, and afterward we can agree on how you'll pay me back your half. Agreed?"

Dante swallows thickly. "Yeah, yeah that's fine. Vergil. Vergil."

Even saying his name gives Dante the shivers. "Well I expected more of an argument. Glad you're going to listen to reason. Don't be late."

"Wait, Verge?" Dante looks down at the picture in his hand, something hot and tight tickling his throat. "Can I see you? Can you come over?"

"What for? I'll be seeing you tonight, and I have the kids. Are you sick? Where's Lir?"

"She covered a shift," Dante replies. "Please, Verge, I got… I need to say some things."

"Well say it tonight. I'm not driving all the way over there when I'll see you in a few hours."

Dante chuckles, swallowing tears as his breath escapes in a laugh. "Okay. Yeah. Hey uh, is mom and dad… they really gonna be there? At this dinner thing?"

There is a long pause, and then Vergil huffs, "Don't be stupid," before hanging up on him.

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The rest of the afternoon Dante spends figuring out his life. He finds photo albums in the closet, handmade scrapbooks that Lir definitely made. They chronicle some of their vacations, and he smiles as he turns the pages to see them camping, at the beach, at Disneyworld. The wedding one makes him wince a bit, the smiling faces of his brother and his parents making something in his chest tight. The date on the preserved invitation tells him they've been married about ten years, which is pretty funny since the longest relationship he's ever had was about ten minutes after getting dressed.

He looks weird in a suit, and Dante snorts to think what Lady or Trish would say if they saw him. But Lady is there, on Vergil's arm, and that is a mystery he can't wait to solve. And Trish kind of is there, in the form of his mother, looking slightly older but just as lovely.

There is a drawer in the desk in the office that has some bills, and he boots up the computer to take a look through. The email is pretty normal, receipts from online orders and utility companies, messages from the family and people he doesn't know. There is a link to a bank account and Dante's brows lift to see the balance. Compared to his normal finances, the amount seems like a small fortune.

There must be something a god of fortune can give you.

A cat appears suddenly, jumping onto the desk and stalking across the keyboard to plop across his arms. Dante pulls back in reaction, which earns him a very annoyed look from the cat. "Hey uh, there," he says, tentatively reaching out to pat its head.

The cat snaps at him, and Dante rolls his eyes. He never got along with animals as a rule. "So you want to sit on my computer as I'm using it but I can't pet you, hm?" he grumbles. The cat yawns in response, so he decides to go find lunch instead.

There's not much more to discover after having a sandwich. His life seems completely ordinary, although he doesn't know exactly what he does or even if he's still in Red Grave City. The other question still to solve is Nero. If Vergil is alive and married to Lady, then does Nero even exist? His face goes a bit hot to think of the kid not being around. But Vergil had mentioned kids on the phone… is it possible?

He is dozing on the couch and watching television when the door bursts open. Dante is on his feet and reaching for his guns that aren't there when Lir hurries in, her arms filled with dry cleaning as she comes like a whirlwind into the living room. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I can't believe I got stuck there! I told them I couldn't stay, and now look at the time!"

She pushes the clothes and plastic into his arms and pulls her cell phone from her purse. "Did you take a shower yet? You still need to shave. You are going to shave, right? You can't look like a sasquatch at the party."

Lir looks up at him expectantly, and Dante shrugs. "Yeah, I guess?"

"Good. Wait. Are you okay?" She steps up and presses a hand to his forehead. "You were sick this morning. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," he assures her. "I had a weird dream."

She smiles, and his heart actually skips a beat. His brain is good. "Good. Did you feed Claudius?"

"Claudius?"

"Yes. The cat." Lir laughs and pats his chest. "Was he a problem today?"

Dante thinks about the cat that interrupted his computer search. "No. And no, I didn't feed him."

"Okay. I'll take care of it. You go shower and get dressed. And don't take too much off, you know I prefer a bit of facial hair." She takes the dry cleaning from his arms and pulls one of the hangers to hand back to him. "Here's your shirt and pants. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah." He watches her step around him, draping the rest of the clothes over the back of a chair before disappearing into the kitchen. If this is a dream, it's more vivid than any he can remember.

The shower feels good, even if Dante is amazed by how many things are on the shelves. He's never lived with a girl but is there anything needed really other than a bar of soap? In one of the drawers under the sink he finds a shaving kit and goes to work before the shower fixing up his face just like she asked. It occurs to Dante that this is his dream and he can do whatever he wants, but something makes him not want to disappoint her, so he makes sure to leave a nicely trimmed beard while removing the rest from his cheeks and neck. Once the shower is hot, he goes for the least-strange sounding soaps before finishing up and drying off with a nice fluffy towel.

He peeks into the bedroom and finds it empty. Quickly he hurries over to the bureau and opens the top drawer, rummaging around for some underwear. Dante just has his first foot in when Lir enters, and he yelps when he sees her. "Hey! I'm getting dressed!" he protests.

She freezes and looks at him in surprise as he pulls his boxer briefs up. "Yeah. I see that." With a laugh she moves to the closet and hangs the rest of the dry cleaning up before disappearing into the bathroom.

Dante frowns before he remembers, they are married. He rubs his hand on his face with an internal groan. He is going to have to get used to this as long as this dream or whatever lasted, including being half-dressed in front of her. While she's gone he quickly pulls on the dark slacks and gray dress shirt before heading to the closet. He finds some black dress shoes he figures Lir will like, and once he's all ready he stands and looks at himself in the full-length mirror that is propped against the wall.

Dante barely recognizes himself without the low-slung denim and some red leather, but he figures he still looks pretty good. As long as he looks better than Vergil, he'll be satisfied, chuckling to himself at the thought. But then he sobers a bit as his stomach turns, wondering what it will be like to see Vergil again. The last time was on Mallet Island, and before that, watching him fall off the Temen-ni-gru. Did that even happen in this place? There had to be a Temen-ni-gru if Lady was here, right? He shakes his head, confused as ever. He needs to figure this out, and fast.

Lir steps past him, again dressed in only a bra and panties, and Dante quickly looks the other way as she pulls her dress over her head. "Will you get this zipper?" she asks as she steps into a pair of heels.

Clearing his throat, he steps up behind her and carefully pulls the zipper up as she smooths her hands down the front. It's a sleeveless blue little number that fits her just right, and when she turns around to fix his collar he admires how nice she looks. "Okay," Lir smiles. "You ready to go? Dinner with the family is always interesting."

Dinner with the family. "Yeah, I'm ready," he grins. Maybe the mystery-solving can wait until after seeing them again at least. Couldn't hurt, right?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #333

“imaginary chain  /  the one you never break  /  seething all alone”

Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah, I'm pretty open about what I'm afraid of. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What class in high school did you struggle with the most? I honestly don't remember with certainty, but it was probably math or economics. At least, I think econ was my senior year. What could you talk about for hours? Mark, meerkats, a few game franchises... maybe a couple more topics. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah, but I don't have many games on there and rarely touch the ones I do. Do you like gaming? I do, but not as much as I did for most of my life. I mostly just play WoW now, and even that I'm not that into anymore. Part of it though comes from not buying any new games that I'm interested in because 1.) no money and 2.) no proper console, and you can only replay games so many times before you're just... yeah, done. Do you like reading books? Some days. Do you like religion? All things considered? No. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Y'know, growing up, I actually liked watching my younger neighbor play one of those games, but I don't remember which. Though he never actually "played" it... just ran around wreaking havoc, lol. I do however think GTAV was the one that Jason and Jacob started playing together when we moved into the apartment, and I thought the story was okay; I don't think they ever got far into it, though. Definitely wasn't Jason's sort of game, and I don't think it was too much up Jacob's alley, either. Can you twerk? I haven't tried and you will never see me try either, lmao. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes, but I almost never use it. If the last person you kissed tried to kiss you again, would you start kissing them back? Yes. If your best friend of the opposite sex tried to kiss you, would you start kissing them back? No. Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, because of how badly she hurt him. I don't have any negative feelings towards her now, though. We're actually friends, haha. The irony. Are you an easy lay? What weird wording. But whatever, quite the polar opposite actually. When’s the last time you said you were sorry? A few days ago. Are there any songs you listen to everyday? No. Would you like living on the coast? As someone who lives in a state hit by hurricanes usually every year and has seen the incredible damage they usually bring to the coast, no. I don't like the smell or gritty feel of salty air, either. When’s the last time you were really late to something? No idea. That's usually not a problem with me. Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? The last person I actually stopped like-liking would be Girt, and that would be because I just came to the realization I saw him too much as my brother instead of boyfriend. It just always felt awkward. Do you still talk to that person? Yeah, we're good. No hard feelings or anything between us. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No. Do you trust easily? Fuck no. I'll be cautious, at least to some degree, about new people for a while. What is the last song to make you cry? Since I've actually behaved and not listened to any trigger songs, it's been a long while, but it was probably "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Last person you hung up on? I'm sure some automated message. I barely ever answer the phone to numbers I don't recognize, though. Where was your last car ride to and from? To Wal-Mart w/ Mom to pick up our order and then back home. Next big outing? *shrug* Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not really, no. Considering I'm by far my most authentic self online, I actually tend to appreciate virtual friends more, if I'm being honest. I try to keep up with those people. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not really, no. I think I saw Warcraft the day it came into theaters, though. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yep. Tragic romance tends to do it the most, I think. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have one to track my menstrual cycle as well as another that tracks my daily caloric intake, but I'm bad at using it because it's tedious if I actually have to measure something. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Ummm if you mean like, in general, probably my mom's. But this most certainly depends on the subject I'm taking feedback on. What is something society "expects" you to do that you don't want to do and/or don't plan on doing? Shaving my legs came to mind first. Granted, I will if there is almost any chance of someone seeing them, but otherwise, I just don't care. We respect women with body hair on this account and see them as no less feminine. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you're drawn to? I think it's cool, yeah. I should have an answer for this, given architecture was a massive focus in Art History the last time I was in school... Roman architecture comes to my head first, if that says anything. What was one of your favorite things from the nineties? BOY OH BOY, SO MUCH!! I'm probably gonna say the toys. There was some dope shit, man. Do you collect things pertaining to an animal? ANYTHING and EVERYTHING featuring a meerkat!!!!! :''') Do you wish that people were kinder to spiders? Well, yes. I hope everyone in their heart wishes this, even if they're afraid of them. They're very important to our ecosystem, and none are out there to harm us; their existence does us a favor. Where do you normally order pizza from? Domino's (my favorite) or LIttle Caesar's for the price. Did your parents keep anything of yours from when you were a baby? Oh yes, loads of stuff that's stored away somewhere. Do you own one of those "____ For Dummies" books? No, but I feel like we had one at some point? What was the last VHS tape that you watched? Yikes, who knows. Did you watch Boy Meets World back in the day? I actually didn't, no. Our old neighbor though loved it so much that she named her daughter Tapanga (deliberately spelled that way). Who is your favorite Scooby Doo character? I never really had one. Maybe Thelma. If I were to give you a coloring book, what would you want its theme to be? Animals. Have you ever won a stuffed animal at a carnival? Possibly a small one. I can tell you I did however accidentally stab the guy who ran the dart-throwing booth though, lmfao. He was obviously fine, and it wasn't a bad wound. I felt SOOOOOO bad. Are you a fan of narwhals? I'm a fan of any animal. Narwhals are definitely fascinating creatures. Grape or orange soda? Orange. Grape-flavored soda ain't my thing. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so painstakingly boring and repetitive. Did you have a favorite Disney movie as a child? It was and still is The Lion King. Do you or have you ever owned a portable gaming console? Yeah, a GameBoy Advance and Nintendo DS. Is shyness cute? It definitely can be. Have you ever had alcohol poisoning before? No. Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? I'm not a gossip fan. Have you ever vandalized someone else’s property before? Most definitely not. Are your parents divorced? Yes. Have you ever been under suicide watch for 72 hours in a psychiatric ward? Yes; at least here, that's protocol when you're admitted for suicidal thoughts/tendencies. Have you ever gone through your significant other’s phone or social media accounts, or do you respect their privacy? Absolutely not. That shit pisses me off so badly. Do you wear any sort of clothing for religious reasons? No. What's something you worked extremely hard to get? My sanity back. Sounds so dramatic, but I'm literally not kidding. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I remember. How many kids do you want to have? I don't want kids, but to entertain the question, when I did, I wanted three. It's fuckin wild to imagine for even a second that I once wanted that. Do you believe that being gay is a sin? *eye roll* Are you any good at photography? If so, what’s your specialty? I mean it with modesty, but I think I'm pretty good. My favorite thing to photograph are animals, but I generally take most pictures of people by request or pay. Judging by my deviantART account, my nature pics definitely get the most attention. Have you ever been a member of a gang before? Fuckin yikes, no. An infamous gang tried breaking into my childhood home once, so you can probably gather that I would never take part in their "big bad guys" bullshit. Have you ever felt like you were neither male nor female? No, I'm comfortable as a cisgender female. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? NO. Anything with raisins = NO. Do you think you’re attractive? No. Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No, not that I really passed notes to begin with. I'd be mortified, regardless of what it was about. Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? Arctic. Do you have an older brother? Yes. He's technically my half-brother, but I don't see "half"s. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Are your collarbones prominent? Bitch I wish so I could get the damn dermal piercings I've wanted for years. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? As a kid, yeah. So ugly. Do you love yourself? It's... weird. Therapy is making me realize that a part of me, maybe even the bigger one, doesn't, but at the exact same time, I know I have worth just like every other human. I just don't treat myself like I do. What TV shows do you keep up with? None, until Meerkat Manor returns this summer. :') When’s the last time it snowed where you live? A couple months ago we got a little bit of it. Is your belly button pierced? No, but it would be if I was actually skinny. Just in my personal opinion, I don't at all think that that piercing would look nice on someone as overweight as me. Even if my damn dreams come true and I lose all the weight I want, my stomach will never look "normal," even after I get the excess skin removal surgery that will be very high on my priority list for my own self-image that's been nothing but loathsome since 2016. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is the obvious answer. What do you remember the most about your childhood? Lots of imagination. Parents arguing. Playing with my little sister. What age did you get your first hair cut? I have no idea. Do you have a favourite toy from childhood still? No. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of it. Have you ever made bread? No. Would you ever consider shaving your head? Nah. Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? Who says we don't now? Zombifying parasites already exist among insects and such, so like... it's not unimaginable to one day see one developed enough to infect humans. I sure as fuck hope not, but. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have a dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I did this many, many months ago, but I guess watch an episode of The Witcher by my own volition. I don't really do spontaneous things with how routine I am, but I had a random urge to check it out one morning. How loud can you whistle? Not very loud at all. Does anything on your body hurt or itch right now? My knees really hurt. They're getting worse. When was the last time you built a sandcastle? There's noooo telling, it's been many years. Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull? No. Well, not a *real* one, anyway. Just the little ones for kids. If you had to appear on a game show, which one would you choose? Family Feud. What is your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? I absolutely stick to what I know. I am SO picky. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? I'm not immediately sure, but there's probably something. Do you bump into things often? Yes. I've always had this weird habit of like... drifting when I walk, so I do this easily. I just kinda wander to the sides a bit without realizing it. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. Did you enjoy playing Hop Scotch when you were younger? I did. Do you feel uncomfortable going to the movies by yourself? Nah, not really. I did that with Warcraft and it was actually pretty chill. When thinking about your dream home, what do you think would be your favorite thing to shop for? The ~g o t h i c~ decor. Do you ever listen to those lo-fi hip hop/study music playlists on YouTube/Spotify? No. Are you likelier to work harder if you’re being paid? If not, what drives you to give your best effort? I mean, yeah. I'd assume that's pretty normal. Does the fashion sense of a potential partner matter to you? No. Is there anything that you prefer to write down rather than type? I'm unsure. If you download/torrent things, do you remember the first thing you ever torrented? Oh, the Limewire days of music pirating... but no, I don't remember. What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? Something photography-related, but I don't feel like checking. What do you wish your hair looked like? I wish I could pull off pastel pink hair rn. It also desperately needs a trim. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I'm sure I always will, at least a little. Do you get any magazines in the mail? No. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Uhhhhh have I? I don't think so. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom of the last wedding I shot. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No, but I used to do that big time because I loved "rewatching" stuff when I was on the computer. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mother, big time. Who’s the bravest person you know? Also my mother. Or Sara. What profession do you admire the most? Teachers might just win. The patience that must take, among so many other things. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No.

[hellyeahheroes]

Building Gwen Poole in D&D 5e

Hey, guess who just got told my company is not working next week. Well, let’s celebrate by doing another D&D build, I had lately few ideas, including a character that makes me smile, unless she is making me feel bad for her

Let me quickly list the Goals for this build. First of all, we need to be able to enter Whitespace, cross beyond panel borders and then back. Second, we need to have knowledge only someone from real world entering a fantasy one could have. Finally, we need to summon Gwens from previous books to aid us. And one more for me is to not make this identical to Tulok the Barbarian’s Deadpool build, since the man already been an inspiration so much for these posts. Which will be hard since Gwen does lend herself well to similiar combination of two classes, spoiler alert.

As always, Ability Scores will be determiend by Standard points Array of 15, 14, 13, 12, 10 and 8, if you or your DM prefer point buy or rolls, go ahead and treat these as guidelines.

Strength: 10, we really don’t need it but Gwen carries a lot of weapons around so I cannot give this an 8

Dexterity: 14, despite the big boots I really doubt your suit is a medium armor, what with those bare legs and all.

Constitution: 13, hit points aren’t meat points and you survive in dangerous situations just fine.

Intelligence: 12, you are well-read in world of your heroes

Wisdom: 8,  you let Ms. Marvel convince you you’re an enteirly different species and your life is a lie and you also tried dating Quentin freaking Quire.

Charisma: 15, people like you and even if they don’t believe your claams of being from another world, they’ll likely dismiss them with a heartfelt laughter than trying to book you a psychologist appointment.

Now for Race, I hinted I don’t believe the “Gwen is a mutant” retcon so I’m going with Variant Human. If you think everything must be a mutant now, then go with any Aasimar or Half-Elf. Variant Humans get to be bitter about X-Men, add +1 to two Ability Scores, go with Charisma and Constitution, gain one free language and one free Skill, pick History since you know it because you’re a human from our world, and a feat. Crossbow Expert lets you ignore loading quality of crossbows, let’s you shoot creatures within 5 feet of you without a disadvantage and make an attack with a loaded crossbow as a bonus action after you hit a foe with a one-handed weapon attack. Crossbows are easy to reskin as guns but be warned that this does not turn a crossbow into an automated gun - you still need a hand to reload the crossbow after every shot, which now counts as a part of your attack, but requires a free hand. Which means you cannot wield two crossbows or fire more than one shot in a single round without a free hand. It could be fixed with some Artificer levels but we’re not doing that here, so make sure you’re on good terms with Riri Williams if you want to shoot two guns or use gun and a blade in an accord.

For Background, Far Traveller is someone who came from far, far away and you are literally from real world. You get Insight and Perception proficiency, can pick any free language of choice and one musical instrument or gaming tool and world has All Eyes On You - people notice you’re not from around and take interest in you.

Time to go with Class Levels

1st Level: We’ll kick things off as a Bard, letting gets to be proficient in any 3 skills, let’s go with Persuasion, Deception and Acrobatics. You are also proficient with Dexterity and Charisma saving throws, light armor, shields, simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords and three musical instruments of your choice. 

You also get Bardic Inspiration, giving you a number of d6 dices equal to your Charisma modifier per long rest that you can hand over to someone that they can add to any ability check, attack roll, or saving throw that they make in the next 10 minutes. They can do it after they roll but before DM declares result of the roll. So you can now cheer on your heroes while fighting alongside them.

Bards are also spellcasters. You get to know a number of spells and have a number of spell slots per long rest that you can spend to cast them and if you cast one from higher level spell slot, it will be stronger. You learn more spells as you advance but cannot know a spell of level higher than highest spell slot you can use. You also get Cantrips which you can cast always and scale with your level, getting stronger at 5th, 11th and 17th character level. If a spell requires you to make an attack roll you sum up your Proficiency Bonus and your Charisma modifier to add to the roll. And if you add 8 to those two values you get your Save Difficulty, which a creature has to beat if your spell forces them to make a saving throws.

A Bard starts with two Cantrips and 4 known spells

Vicious Mockery is a staple for Bards, it lets you mock someone so bad, they must make a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d4 psychic damage and have a distadvantage on next attack roll they make before end of its next turn.

Message is a spell functioning as a magic phone, letting you send a short message to someone within the range and then can make a short reply.

Identify lets you see if you recognize an item as something you once read in a comic book - it tells you if the item is magical, magic-imbued, what magical properties it has or what spells are affecting it, how to use it, if it requires attunment and how many charges it has.

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter makes you tell a joke that forces the target to make a Wisdom Saving Throw or fall prone and be incapitated and unable to stand up due to overwhelming laughter. Target gets another save at end of each of its turns or a save with an advantage whenever someone deals damage to it.

2nd Level: We stick to Bard to gain 2nd-Level feature Jack of All Trades, letting you add half of your Proficiency modifier to all skills you are not proficient with. You also gain Song of Rest, letting you play some music when your team is resting and rolling hit dice to regain hitpoints, letting everyone roll an additional 1d6. I don’t think it is a power per se that Gwen has, but could totally see her try to cheer up her friends and heroes.

And speaking of cheering up, you get one new spell - Heroism let’s you instill the bravery in one willing creature, making it immune to being frightened and on each of its turns letting them gain temporary hit points equal your Charisma modifier. Again, Hit Points can represent someone’s luck or will to fight so if you see Batroc having a hard time against Captain America, you can cheer him up to keep fighting. I mean, you would but you like Cap too, so maybe hope Batroc fights Taskmaster or something?

3rd Level: And it’s still a Bard, on 3rd Level gaining admission to something Gwen never got in real life - a college. Bardic College, to be more specific. I was thinking of College of Satire but really, College of Lore fits our needs much better. You gain profficiency with three more skills, I’d go with Athletics, Stealth and Sleight of Hand. Since all bards also gain Expertise, letting you choose two skills for which your Proficiency Bonus is doubled, use it on Athletics and Perception which depend on two lowest Ability Scores you have.

Your spell for the level is Invisibility, which lets you skip through eniemies you don’t feel like fighting, we can refluff this as early “slipping out” to the whitespace, but some creatures can still see you and you are “pulled back” (read: made visible) if you try to interact with something or attack anyone. 

College of Lore also gets Cutting Words, which lets you say something that spooks or confuses a creature. Mechanically it lets you use your Inspiration die the opposite way they are normally used, letting you roll to subtract from attack roll, saving throw or an ability check.

I mean, that’s basically how it works

4th Level: Still sticking with the Bard for an Ability Score Improvement, go for your Charisma, since not only your spells but also Bardic Inspiration relies on it.

You also get a new spell and a new Cantrip

Prestidigitation lets you make a number of smaller effects you can play as you messing around with Whitespace. Knock let’s you unlock one nonmagical lock on door or an object. Maybe play it as you “skipping” the door through Whitespace or cutting out to when the object is already unlocked?

5th Level: Surprise, surprise, it is still Bard. 5th Level mostly improves Bardic Inspriation - now it uses d8s and you regain them on a short rest as well. You also gain the access to 3rd level spell - Nondetection can make you or someone else immune on being spied by magical means for 8 hours. Situational? Yes. But something Gwen can do as a person capable of walking out of the reality where people like Doctor Strange or Professor X cannot find her? Very. You can also use it on objects. 

6th Level: Bar...oh hey, we’re doing Fighter now. 1st Level fighter gains proficiencies with light and medium armor and martial weapons as well as Second Wind, letting you once per short rest as a bonus action regain 1d10+your Fighter level hit points. You also get to choose a Fighting Style - Archery grants Gwen +2 to ranged weapon attacks.

ALTERNATIVES: As you can see, I decided to do Gwen as someone gun-toting, if you’d rather her use a sword then picking Defensive Duelist at first level and Dueling style now. Mind you, you need to have a free hand for spellcasting so unless you take a War Caster feat (which is also an option) you cannot duel-wield either sword and crossbow (which would also require sacrificing your Ability Score Improvement for Crossbow Expert) or two swords and use many of your abilitties. On a side note, Gwen is also profficient now with heavy Crossbow, so you can use that as a shotgun.

7th level: 2nd Level Fighter gets Action Surge, letting you once per Short rest gain an extra Standard Action

8th Level: 3d Level Fighter gains a Martial Achertype. I was thinking which one Gwen would choose. Wade went with a Champion but we don’t want Gwen to be exactly like him even if we’re already mixing two of the same classes Tulok did. I have a better pick. Gwen is suppsoed to represent the modern fandom that jumped into comics during New 10s, right? If that’s the case then, without streotyping here, we should ask ourselves what would likely be her possible gateway to D&D.

Echo Knight has been introduced in Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount, the world designed by Matt Mercer for his Critical Role games. You can use your bonus action to Manifest Echo, letting you pull an echo of yourself from another timeline or, in your case, another book you were in. This Gwen has AC 14+ your Proficiency modifier, 1 hit point and immunity to all conditions, uses your saving throws and you command her to moves on your turn. She vanishes if she dies, you’re incapitated, you dismiss her, summon another Gwen or find yourself more than 30 feet away from her. 

As a bonus action you can  sacrifice 15 feet of your movement to swap places with other Gwen, you can choose if your attacks originate from your position or her and you can use your reaction to have her make an opportunitty attack if an opponnent would trigger one. And a number of times equal your Constitution Modifier per Long rest you can make her take an extra attack as a part of your attack action with Unleash Incarnation.

Now, to get third Gwen we would need 18 levels of Echo Knight, but we would lose or all other abilitties about Whitespace then. Instead I suggest you circle through Gwens, as it seems that Echo Knight can summon an Echo as many times as they feel like, just not at once. 

9th Level: 4th Level Fighter gets an Ability Score Improvement, Round up your Charisma

10th Level: 5th Level Fighter gains an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice as a part of the same action. Meaning you can make up to seven attacks with Action Surge, two uses of Unleash Incarnation and Crossbow Expert, provided you’re having a free hand. Unless DM allows it I do not think you can have other Gwen reload your guns, so all problems of Crossbow Expert still apply. Dual Wielding meele or mixed meele and ranged Gwen would get to the same level of attacks.

11th Level: 6th Level Fighter gets another Ability Score Improvement, start focusing on your Dexterity - even a meele Gwen is better off using finesse weapons and it adds to your AC.

12th Level: The Bard returns! 6th level Bard learns Countercharm, letting you use your action to give everyone you consider friendly an advantage on saving throws against being frightened or charmed - I guess it’s Gwen cheering other heroes up more or warning them she read about the baddie they’re facing and he has mind altering powers

You also get one more spell. It is sad we are behind with the spells...or are we? College of Lore Bard can gain Magical Secrets - a Bardic feature we will gain later as well, but this is an additional one and early. It lets you add two spells from any spell list to your spells known, as long as they’re on a level you can cast. Unlike the standard Bard version we will get later, the two spells we get now do not count to our maximum of spells know. Meaning we get three new spells

Tongues will let you read world baloons translated to English for the American readers and apparently let you add translation to  your own dialogues for an hour.

Blink lets you roll at the end of each of your turns and if you get 11 or higher you slip into Whitespace a.k.a. Etheral Plane and reappear in space no more than 10 feet away from where you were at the beginning of your next turn. When you are in whitespace you cannot be attacked or interacted with creatures on material plane. It is not as powerful as in Pathfinder but still - don’t cheat on this, don’t be an asshole and if you are pray you never see a spider.

Fireball is your grenade/rocket launcher. Creatures within range are dealt 8d6 fire damage, half on a succesful Dexterity saving throw.

13th and 14th level: 7th level Bard gains an acess to 4th level spells and 8th Level bard gains an Ability Score Improvement, invest in Dexterity again. I’m doing the two together since each gives you one more spell too add:

Dimension Door lets you teleport anywhere with range of 500 feet, as long as you can see, visualize or know the area. You can bring anything up to your carrying capacity and one creature also carrying no more than its maximum with you. However, if another creature occupies the selected space, you run into it and get knocked back through Whitespace, taking 4d6 force damage.

Greater Invisibility works like Invisibility, but now you can take things with you or attack until it ends naturally. Play it as you slipping in and out of Whitespace.

15th Level: 9th Level Bard gets to improve Song of Rest, now using a 1d8 instead of 1d6. And you gain access to 5th level spells. Legend Lore is a spell seemingly tailor-made for a fangirl - you can gain (or in your case, recall that you’ve read) knowledge about specific person, object or location. It may be vague, the more you already know the better results. This lets you put fun in your fangirl...wait.

16th Level: 10th Level Bard improves Bardic Inspriation dice to d10s, gains Expertise in two more Skills, I’d go with History and Persuasion, and learns one more cantrip and Magical Secrets - this works like before but these spells count to your maximum of spells know.

Blade Wards grants you until end of your next turn resistance agaisnt bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from weapon attacks. Your armor is at best light, this may help if you want to go into meele.

Banishment let’s you force a creature to make a Charisma saving throw or let you send them into Whitespace. They get to come back like Paste Pot Pete did after it ends, but if they’re not from this plane and if you don’t break your concentration for one minute, they’re banished for good.

Banishing Smite is similiar - next time you hit a creature with a weapon attack, and it does not specify it must be a meele attack, you deal it extra 5d10 force damage and if you reduce it to 50 or less hit points, you send them to the Whitespace. There is no save, but there is no chance to keep target permamently out. Either spell still can save lives against tough enemies.

17th Level: 11th Level Bard learns to cast 6th level Spells, but I don’t see any so we will grab one more from 5th level - Scrying let’s you poke through Whitespace to find a person and observe them and their activities. They get a Wisdom saving throw to resist being spied on, I guess trying to reassert that their current narrative place is off-page. The better you know them and better materials connecting to them you have, the harder resisting your prying eyes gets. Just please don’t use it to stalk your friends, okay?

18th Level: 12th Level Bard gets last Ability Score Improvement, round up your Dexterity.

19th Level: 13th Level Bard improves Song of Rest to 1d10 and gains access to 7th level Spells. Etherialness lets you just hop to the Whitespace...I mean, Etherial Plane, for up to 8 hours, effectively saving you from an encounter if you would die othertwise. It let’s you regroup, regain your strength, plan ahead, move away or even bypass whole area, effectively skipping to different pages, and doesn’t require concentration to do it.

20th Level: And we wrap things up with 14th Level of Bard. College of Lore grants you Pearless Skill, letting you now use Bardic Inspiration on your own rolls. You also get two more Magical Secrets

Delayed Blast Fireball is a bomb - you put on a fireball in a place. Any creature that touches it must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw to be able to throw it in a different place. Whenever they suceed or not, it explodes anyway, same if your spell ends or you break concentration. It deals 12d6 fire damage plus an extra 1d6 for each of your turn that ended without it detonating, half on a succesful Dexterity Saving Throw.

Plane Shift lets you and up to 8 creatures move to a different plane of existence, meaning you can now team-up with Squirrel Girl to kick Mephisto’s butt. Teleport could be more useful as it let’s you move within a single plane, but then you don’t get to freak Squirrel Girl out by pointing there is no reason someone isn’t punching the devil in the face at all times.

Overview: So this is how I’d do Gwenpool - College of Lore Bard 14/Echo Knight Fighter 6. Let’s see how valid this build is

Pros: You have a pretty decent amount of hit points, somewhere around 160 on average, while having multiple ways to avoid damage. You are a good utility caster with multiple ways to gather information or scout ahead and you have a pretty good array of skills on top of that, making you a good use for non-combat situations. You also have pretty good mobility options, letting you move as you wish across the battlefield. Finally, whenever you picked meele or ranged options, you can dish out a lot of attacks if needed, or even blast out some foes.

Cons: Your Constitution is mediocre, meaning your Concentration and use of Unleash Incarnation could be better. Second, your spell selection is somewhat situational, some of the options we took may not always be useful, even if they are in character. Third, your Wisdom saving throw is horrible so charming, frightening or just Hold Person will be your bane. Finally, you do not have any ways of dealing magical damage, unless your DM throws a magic rapier and/or crossbow your way and your fireballs deal fire damage, which many creatures are resistant or even immune to.

However overall you are able to fill or support in multiple roles, from scout to party face to damage dealer to information gatherer, which makes you great to have. Remember, however, that this is not one-person show and you work better as a part of a team.

For example

-Admin

[oldguy56-world]

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

There is a warrant out for my arrest. That is what the automated voice that called me said the other day. I have been receiving this call for over a year now and it has led me to one of two conclusions: either it is a scam, or we have the worst police detectives in the world. Let’s face it. We haven’t moved, we have the same phone number, and for the past six months we have been trapped inside our place. If the police can’t find me, there is something wrong with them. Ergo (thought if I put some Latin in there so I would sound more intelligent) I have come to the conclusion it is a scam, 

Someone out there wants to rob me of my hard earned money. (Well I earned it. Let’s not quibble about how hard I worked for it) Imagine that. At first I thought that for some reason they just targeted me, but I have since learned that a lot of people are doing this to a lot of other people. They target a lot of seniors and, wait a minute, that is me too. Damn.

I thought perhaps that these were poor people in need and so I felt a little sorry for them, but lo and behold (now I am going biblical) a story hit the news that some rich guys were asking people to build a wall with donations and it turns out the only wall being built was around their stone cold hearts. The money was used for luxury yachts, vacations, extravagant meals and cosmetic surgery. I understand the last one because it will make them harder to recognize and they can make their getaway. Easier thing to do would be to move to Canada where the police are still looking for me after all this time with no luck.

So where does that all leave me? I don’t answer the phone, and I love answering the phone. All I do now is play back the message left in case it is someone I know. Some of these calls are even in Chinese. They must be thinking that since I know seven words in Latin Chinese would be a cinch.

How do we stop this madness. Glad you asked.

1) have one of those air horns handy. Answer your phone. As soon as they start talking blast it. Deaf people tend to stop using the phones.

2) Tell them you are a Nigerian Prince and you would gladly send them money. All they have to do is send you some first to show good faith and you will double the amount you send back within one week.

3) Tell them you are interested but you are paralyzed from the neck down so your power of attorney will have to handle the transaction. Give them a number to call that happens to be to the local police station.

4) If you have a four year old in the house put them on the phone. See how long the call lasts.

5) Repeat every word they say. It was annoying as a kid, it is even more annoying as an adult.

6) Speak gibberish like Latka from taxi. That will get you taken off the call list.

7) Try to sell them insurance. Even if you are not an agent. They will never know.

Maybe someday there will be a solution to this. In the meantime improvise.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Never give money to strangers. For this advice you can send me $10.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Trust Me: Chapter 9

I cannot thank y’all enough for your patience. Hopefully the fact that it’s a relatively big chapter a little bit kinda makes up for the wait? Either way, thank you so much for reading, and I love you <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 8 AO3 Chapter 10

Warnings: A brief mention of the wounds from previous chapters’ violence, very briefly implied nsfw/daddy kink (to skip it, just don’t read the text messages after “Aww, you’re so sweet!”

Author’s Note: Again, the cipher is crackable with the information you have. (I’d argue that this one might be a bit harder, because I gave you fewer/subtler clues, but if you get how it’s encrypted, decoding it is a lot easier.) Shoutout to y’all who got last chapter’s! <3

Word Count: 3,660

Tag List: @ccecode​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​ @ren-allen​ @ilovemygaydad​ @bloodropsblog​ @funsizedgremlin​ @raygelkitty​ @roxiefox23​ @thomasthesandersengine​ @spookyingarbageisland​ @band-be-boss-blog​

"The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it," Virgil muttered. Running his hand through his hair, he looked up to see that it was 8:30. He'd been at his desk staring at a copy of the note for over two hours. There was something familiar about the phrase; the feeling that he'd heard it before played in the back of his mind, just out of reach. He was sure that it was the key to solving the entire thing.

God, I wish I remembered more from that cryptology class I took in college. Okay, time for a new approach. Clean slate, let's go through what we know about him, Virgil thought.

He's a man in his late twenties or early thirties. He's highly intelligent and well-educated, likely with a medical background of some sort. He's a mission-based killer, set on punishing people he feels got away with things, things the system should have punished them fore. Before Jason Dean, it seems. That change in victimology must be connected to why he sent this note, so I'll put a pin in that for now; I'll talk to Vincent about the autopsy report when he's done with it. 

He seems divided; some of the torture is methodical, but some of it seems more motivated by rage than purpose. And then there's how he treats them. Mission-oriented killers don't often torture their victims; the payoff is from the kill itself. But he's feeding them, keeping them alive for a while so he can torture them.

Does he want them to know what he's done? That's it. He wants them to recognize their 'sins', perhaps even repent for them. He needs the validation that comes from them acknowledging his power and that he is correct.

Everything he does has a literal meaning and a symbolic one, he continued. Nothing has only one meaning. On the surface, he's saying that he knows that what he's doing is wrong, legally at least, but he finds it beautiful. Interesting choice of wording. Not right, not just. Beautiful. It feels like he cares more about the torture than the mission. But then why the remorse with the pseudo-burial? He's so full of contradictions. And then there's the bit at the end. "Publish me", he said, not "publish this". Which goes back to the fact that he's got one hell of an ego; he wants the focus on him. Which directly flies in the face of most mission oriented killers- they want the focus on their message. 

I would almost think that there might be two unsubs, but two people being this organized and methodical is extremely unlikely. He's way too egotistical to cooperate with a partner, however submissive said partner might be. 

So, we've got an incredibly smart unsub who knows it and feels like he isn't getting the attention he deserves. A younger child, maybe? Not that that would help us find him. Round up every smart, egotistical younger son in the city. We'd get the founders of every tech start-up in the city; it'd be Gentrifiers-R-Us. Virgil shook his head to clear out the unhelpful thoughts. Focus, Virge. You're on a clock. So, what kind of encryption does someone like that send? What kind of encryption has each word represented by three numbers? It's not a trifid cipher; none of the numbers would be bigger than three, and these numbers range from 1 to 192. Most number ciphers assign a number to each letter; no way in hell all of the words are three letters, and 192 and 26 do not play well together mathematically. Think, Virgil.

Fuck. Okay, let's try another new angle. The series of numbers at the end. Clearly not part of the message. 10 digits, but clearly not a phone number. 055 certainly isn't a US area code, and the number isn't long enough for a foreign dialing code plus the rest of the phone number. Wait. Maybe it's backwards? 310 is Los Angeles. 

Virgil took out his phone and dialed 310-053-3550, heart in his throat. It rang twice before an automated voice informed him that "the number you have dialed is no longer in service". Damn. His heart started beating in an entirely different way when he saw that he had some new texts.

6:22 [Patton]- Hi cutie! Are you free, by any chance? It's been a really bad day, and seeing you always makes me feel so much better. <3

6:50 [Patton]- I was thinking we could get some dinner and then watch a movie or something at my place

7:48 [Patton]- Virge?

Virgil's stomach dropped. Oh god do they think I'm ignoring them? Oh shit. He quickly typed out a reply.

8:53[Virgil<3]- Hey, Pat, I'm here. I'm so, so sorry you're having a bad day. I can't hang out tonight, though. :'( I'd be with you if I could, though. It's been a rough one for me, too. Wanna talk about what's been bringing you down?

Their reply was almost instant.

[Patton]- Virgil! :D Aww, stormcloud, it's okay. Life happens; it wouldn't be healthy for either of us if you dropped everything when I'm just a little down. Besides, it was nothing, really. Just me being dramatic lol

Virgil felt himself blush at the endearment, but his brow furrowed reading the rest of the message.

[Virgil<3]- You sure? It also isn't healthy to bottle up your emotions. I care a lot about you and am always here if you want to talk about anything.

[Patton]- God, you're the sweetest! <3 I care a lot about you too. I promise, though, I really am fine. Do you wanna talk about what's bumming you out?

[Virgil<3]- I really wish I could, but I actually have to get back to it. I'll message you later <3

[Patton]- okie dokie. Don't work too late, okay?

He chuckled as he put his phone away and looked back at the note on his desk. Heather and Kurt are obviously people, Ram probably is too. Who are they, and what do they mean to him? The phone on his desk started to ring; Virgil jumped.

"H- hello? Detective Mason here." Virgil cursed himself for the shaky greeting.

"Virgil! I'm glad you're still here. It's Vincent. You said you wanted to know as soon as the autopsy was done; I'm waiting for a couple of particulates to come back, but the bulk of it is ready for you." 

"Vincent, you are a lifesaver. I'll be down in a minute."

"Did you know that the candy Life Savers was invented in 1912 as a summer confectionary alternative to chocolate, which has a melting point of approximately 86 degrees?"

"I definitely did not know that, but I did know that they started as mints and didn't become the fruity candy we associate most with the brand now until the mid-1920s."

"Fruit flavors were introduced in 1921, to be exact, but they did not have holes in them like the mints did until 1925, which is probably the date to which you were referring."

Virgil laughed. "Damn, I thought I had you. I'll be right down." He hung up the phone and left for the morgue. 

Three minutes later, he found himself being hugged by Dr. Nigel-Murray.

"I'm as touch-starved as the next gay, but why the hug? We just saw each other, like, five hours ago." Virgil looked slightly down at Vincent with a small smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to curb my workplace-inappropriate tendencies, but, barring once during a time of great stress, people in general don't respond in kind to my facts." Virgil's heart broke for the vulnerability and pain in his voice, and he made a mental note to learn as much trivia as possible.

"That's a damn shame. You're a great guy, Vince- let's get coffee or something once I've cracked this damn code."

"That sounds quite lovely, actually. What code, if I may ask?" Vincent's smile was appropriate for the fact that they were at work, but Virgil could tell that he was practically bouncing with excitement internally.

"Our killer sent a reporter a coded message. I've got about 21 hours to crack it if I want to get this guy to come to me."

"Not to overstep, but I've dabbled a bit in cryptography; perhaps I could be of some assistance?" 

"I'd love another set of eyes on this, actually. Thank you! Here, give me your number, and I'll text you a picture of it once we've wrapped up here." Virgil pulled out his phone and unlocked it to find that his messages with Patton were still pulled up. He tried to stop himself from smiling, but he couldn't.

Vincent chuckled. "He must be pretty special, to get a smile like that out of you." Virgil blushed.

"Uh, yeah, they are. At least, I think so. I hope so." Virgil fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, refusing to make eye contact.

"Sorry about the pronoun flub. So, tell me about them!"

Virgil hesitated; opening up about his feelings certainly wasn't one of his strong suits, but he liked Vincent and wanted to be his friend.

“They’re incredible. Their name is Patton, and they run We Hart Coffee just a few blocks from here. They’re so funny and kind, and I’ve never seen a smile like theirs. It’s so genuine and infectious. The world genuinely is a brighter and happier place around them.”

“You really love them, huh?” 

“I- What? No. No way. That’s way too cliche. We meet in a coffee shop and are in love within a couple of weeks? This is real life, and stuff like that only happens in movies and fanfiction. And completely unrealistic. What?" Virgil snapped, seeing the grin on Vincent's face.

"Trust me, Virgil. My first doctorate advisor, Doctor Brennan, was in deep denial of her love for her partner, Agent Booth. They're now happily married with two kids. I know what repressed love looks like, and you, my friend, have it in proverbial spades."

"I'm not sure that that's the right use for that cliche, and besides…" Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So what if you're right? Even if I did love them, which I don't, they don't love me back."

"Not yet, perhaps, but you're a great guy, Virgil. Smart, funny, caring, and quite handsome. If I were into men, I'm certain I would be half in love with you, myself. Just give them time."

"Christ, Vince, I'm gonna cry at work and ruin the tough-guy aesthetic I work so hard to maintain."

Vincent hummed his disbelief. "As much as I love chatting with you, I believe you're here about a murder. Follow me, if you will."

"Right. Murder." Virgil muttered before following him into the lab.

"So, you know who he is. 18 year old Mission High student Jason Dean. You saw the burns, frostbite, and acid damage. We were able to determine that the frostbite was caused by liquid nitrogen, and the killer used hydrochloric acid. We also found that while he was less dehydrated than the part victims, likely due to being held for only about a week, as opposed to two or three like previous victims, he was far more malnourished than the others."

"God, why is he changing so much? A kid, a shortened timetable, not feeding him. What was the cause of death?"

"Strychnine poisoning."

"See, that's a huge departure, too. All of the previous torture was from knives and hands. Why the sudden change to substances? Did he get injured, or is something else limiting his manual dexterity?"

"I don't know about any of that, but strychnine is a fairly popular poison in popular culture; Agatha Christie used it three times- in Mysterious Affair at Styles, The Coming of Mr. Quin, and How Does Your Garden Grow?, and Arthur Conan Doyle used it in-"

"Oh. OH. Vincent, I love you, you know-it-all." Virgil started pacing, running his fingers through his hair.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd."

"What? Strychnine wasn't used in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd; Ackroyd was stabbed."

"Yes, I know. The note the killer sent. At the bottom of the code, he wrote 'the truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it'. It seemed so familiar, but I couldn't place it until you just brought up Agatha Christie. Poirot said it in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The number. I'm an idiot."

"Breathe, Virgil. I assume that you just cracked the code?"

"Not quite. But I cracked our unsub. I knew it. I knew he'd hand me the answer. I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out."

"Okay, so how does The Murder of Roger Ackroyd help you?"

"Under the quote is a thirteen digit number. I'd bet my life that it's an ISBN for a specific printing of the book. It's an Arnold Cipher. Each series of three numbers is a page, line, and word. It was staring me in the face. I truly am Boo-Boo the Fool." Vincent was puzzled by Virgil's last sentence, but Virgil was far too agitated for questioning it to be prudent.

Virgil took a deep breath. "Okay, sorry about that. So, back to Jason?"

"Oh, right. Jason. Um, the only other thing of note that we have found at this point are fibers from a 1950s Volkswagen Beetle."

"That's gonna help a ton, as well. Vincent, you are my hero!" Virgil scooped him up into a big hug before leaving the morgue, leaving Vincent speechless for the first time in his life.

Virgil ran back up to his desk, furiously typing in his password. It took him three tries to correctly enter the number into the San Francisco Public Library website's search bar. He eventually got it, and there it was. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie. And two copies were available. The library didn't open until 12 pm the next day, however, so he went home after setting an alarm on his phone and sending a quick text to Patton.

9:52 [To:Patton]- Hey, wanna get dinner tomorrow night?

He was ecstatic to see a message from them when he got home.

9:55 [Patton]- Absolutely! You got the problem worked out? :D

10:10 [Virgil <3]- I found the solution, and will get it resolved by the end of the week. I'll pick you up on Friday at 7? We'll take a walk in the park and then House of Prime Rib, on me?

[Patton]- Are we celebrating something? Or are you trying to tell me you want to be my sugar daddy? ;P

[Virgil <3]- Trust me, Pat, if I had sugar daddy money, I'd love nothing more than to spoil you rotten. But nah, it's a combination of a small celebration and an apology for being unavailable today and for the next few days until Friday. (and i may or may not be buttering you up in hopes you'll share what's bringing you down)

[Patton]- Aww, you're so sweet! <3 (Can I call you daddy anyway?)

[Virgil <3]- Only if you want to be rewarded, baby. ;)

[Patton]- I'll be a good boy for you, daddy, I promise. 

Virgil noted their preferred appellation and responded in kind with a wicked smile.

--------

The next morning, Virgil woke up half an hour before his alarm was set to go off, feeling more relaxed than he had in months. I'm finally going to get this guy.

Figuring there was no point in just waiting around, he got ready and went right to work. He knew Captain Sanders would want a breakdown of the previous night's findings before he could start following the leads he had gotten from Vincent the previous night.

He got to the station and immediately started looking into Jason Dean and the possible claim that he was a murderer. It didn't take him long to find that three Mission High students committed suicide 2 months prior named Heather, Kurt, and Ram. Virgil tracked down the police reports for the deaths. By all accounts, they appeared to be through-and-through suicides. If Jason did kill them, the killer would need to be quite close to either one of the victims or Jason himself. Linking the suicides would imply that he's close to all of them. Maybe through school? Science classes are more than likely to have liquid nitrogen and hydrochloric acid. Any teacher would have access, but I'll look more into science teachers in particular. He's displayed some anatomical knowledge as well. 

Captain Sanders walked into the precinct, calling for Virgil to follow him into his office.

"So, what do you have?" he asked, after they'd arrived and shut the door.

"The note is a book cipher based on Agatha Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The library has a copy of the specific edition I need to crack it, so I'm going to pick that up at noon, as soon as the library opens. Looking into the 'murderer' thing, there were three suicides at Mission High 5 months ago, whose names match the three not-coded words in the note- Heather, Kurt, and Ram. If they were murdered by Jason, that means the killer is close to one of them, most likely Jason himself. I think that's what the killer is alluding to in the note, but we'll see once I've decoded it. Add in the liquid nitrogen, and it points to a teacher, likely a science teacher. So I'm going to crack the code and look for other insights into him and look into Mission High science teachers. I have an updated profile, and I'll email that to you right away."

"That sounds wonderful, Mason. You've been doing excellent work; we're glad to have you."

Virgil shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm just doing my best, sir. If you'll excuse me, the library is about to open, and I'd like to get the book as soon as possible."

"Sounds great to me! Just send me that profile before you go."

"Will do, sir. Thank you." Virgil turned and left the room, hurrying to his computer before rushing to the library.

--

A short while later, he was back at his desk with a battered copy of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. It wasn't difficult to decode the message, but it did take a bit of time and a lot of counting and re-counting. Word by word, the message became clear: He killed Heather, Kurt, and Ram. Find the weapon; I know he had it. It is your evidence.

Virgil sat back in his chair once he'd finished, puzzled by what the note revealed that he hadn't already deduced. 'He' has to be referring to Jason. He knew we'd find out the reasons for him choosing the previous victims, but he needed to be sure we'd know why he thinks Jason deserved to die. I looked at the police reports for those deaths; the gun used to kill Ram and Sweeney was recovered on-site and is in police custody. He's obsessed with his mission, though. He wouldn't make this claim if he wasn't sure. I'll look into that once we've caught our killer. For my peace of mind, at least. Virgil cracked his knuckles and picked up his phone.

"Roman Prince, SFGate, how can I help you?"

"Roman, it's Detective Mason. Can you come down to the station right away?" The responding scream was so loud, Virgil had to move his phone away from his ear. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Absolutely, Detective. I will be there as soon as physically possible."

"Don't break any traffic l-" The line went dead, cutting Virgil off.

--

Far sooner than could have been legal, Roman skidded to a stop in front of Virgil's desk.

"HelloVirgildidyoucrackthecode?DoIgettowritearesponse?CanI-"

"BREATHE, Roman." Virgil stood, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Yes, I cracked the code. Yes, you will publish a response tonight. But I'm writing it. I assume your laptop is in your bag?" Roman simply nodded- he knew that if he tried to speak, he'd start rambling again. "Fantastic. Let's get going."

45 minutes (and one call from Captain Sanders to Dan Humphrey about how not allowing it to be posted immediately would be obstruction of justice) later, a new post was live on SFGate's website. It was 4:02 pm, two hours before the deadline.

An Open Letter to U N Owen

It was a pleasure hearing from you. While I obviously cannot condone your methods, you are correct that our justice system is imperfect, and those imperfections need addressing. You gave me quite a puzzle, and I enjoyed solving it. It was clever, but not clever enough. I hope you'll forgive me for not following your directions; please let me know if this is inadequate.

Vq rwv kv dnwpvna, aqw'tg ytqpi. Jg fqgup'v jcxg kv, yg fq. Yg'xg jcf kv htqo vjg xgta dgikppkpi. Dwv aqw cntgcfa mpqy vjcv. Aqw'tg hct vqq engxgt vq jcxg pqv mpqyp vjcv. Wpnguu K'o qxgtguvkocvkpi aqw, yjkej ku c fghkpkvg rquukdknkva. Aqwt qvjgt cuugtvkqp jcu dggp pqvgf, cpf K uygct vq aqw vjcv K yknn rwtuwg vjcv qpeg yg ugvvng vjku ocvvgt dgvyggp wu.

Hqt pqy, vjqwij, aqw ujqwnf mpqy vjcv aqw'xg iqvvgp unqrra, cpf vjcv kv'u qpna c ocvvgt qh vkog dghqtg K hkpf aqw cpf tgrca aqw kp vjg ngicn hqto qh vjg eqkp aqw icxg vjgo. Aqw yknn (ogvcrjqtkecnna) jcpi hqt vjku.

Sincerely,

Det. Mason Poirot II

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

Logan refreshed SFGate.com for the thirteenth time that day and was finally rewarded for his tenacity; the post was less than five minutes old. He read it twice, rage simmering in his chest and a smile on his face. "Detective Mason," he said to his empty apartment, "a worthy adversary indeed. The game is on."

[nitewrighter]

Breach Pt. I

Previous Rei and Aedan fics: 1, 2.

Continued-ish from this.

Rating: *shrugging noise*

Next Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Synopsis: Local clone boy questions loyalties.

---

At 7:30 AM, the slats of the shades in Aedan’s room automatically tilted, flooding yellow-gray morning light into the room as a cheerful fairy-like guitar/synth chime greeted the day and served as an alarm. Aedan muttered something under his breath and pulled his pillow over his head as the synth and guitar increased in volume until his other hand flailed out, grabbed his phone off of his bedside table, and shut the alarm off. 

“Good morning Aedan O’Deorain,” an automated AI voice came over the same speakers which chimed his alarm, “The time is 7:31. The outside temperature is a balmy 7.2 degrees celsius with some clouds and an 11% chance of precipitation. ” 

“Mm,” Aedan sloughed out from between mattress and comforter, “Mum?”

“Moira O’Deorain had several items that required her attention and left the apartment at 0300 hours.”

“0300--” Aedan raised an eyebrow but sighed and stretched, “Fine.” It wouldn’t be the first time Moira was struck with inspiration and left for the lab in the middle of the night.

“She wished me to inform you that your armor fitting and biofeed calibration should proceed as scheduled, however,” the AI added.

“Got it, got it...” said Aedan, peeling off his holey Velvet Underground shirt and stumbling out of his sweats as he walked into the bathroom.

“She is in the lab right now, do you wish me to relay a message?” the AI asked.

“’Good morning,’ I guess?” said Aedan, stepping into the shower, “Oh-and uh... Play Playlist 6.”

“Playing Playlist 6,” said the AI as Aedan turned on the shower and the bathroom filled with steam and Patti Smith’s “Gloria.” After the shower, Aedan toweled off and dressed, somewhat skeptically eying the bareness of his own room. Their facility quarters were much more minimalist than their elegant high-rise back in Oasis, but then again, that was the apartment of an Oasis minister, and this, well, this was Talon. Still, Aedan wondered how within protocol a few posters or maybe a decal might be.

“Breakfast this morning is amaranth parfait with strawberries,” the AI spoke to Aedan as he walked to the kitchen and pulled the bowl out of the fridge, “311 Calories. 4.3 Grams of fat. Enriched with 14 grams of almond-soy protei--”

“Got it. Can you put the news on for me?” said Aedan, grabbing a spoon and pushing the drawer shut with his hip and walked over to the apartment couch as their screen lit up with a thrum. Aedan plopped down on the couch and ate his breakfast as a newscaster appeared on the screen. He recognized the skyline behind her. London.

“...where just hours ago a massive attack was carried out at the 20th Anniversary memorial of Tekharta Mondatta,” The newscaster said, “In this very spot, a massive subterranean EMP weapon was activated, temporarily shutting down every electrical device in a two-block radius, with extensive damage being dealt at the epicenter of the memorial. Authorities have confirmed this as a Talon attack.”

“They never tell me anything around here,” muttered Aedan, taking another bite of his breakfast. 

“I’ve just received the latest numbers from local hospitals and Omnic repair centers,” the newscaster went on, “While Overwatch still hasn’t released a statement, we have been told that Tekharta Zenyatta is still in critical condition following the attack. According to reports, there were no human deaths, but 8 omnics’ memory and personality banks damaged beyond any hope for rebooting, and 11 humans have been hospitalized for electrical injuries induced by their proximity to the most heavily affected omnics. Four are still in critical condition. One human is reported missing from the incident---”

“Aedan,” Moira’s voice came over the apartment speaker system and the image on the TV froze, “You did get the message that your biofeed calibration was still scheduled, right?”

“Mum, I just sat down to eat,” said Aedan.

“You can eat and walk,” said Moira, “Lab now, le do thoil.”

“Tuigim,” muttered Aedan, hauling himself up from the couch.

---

Aedan’s eyes lingered on the glowing glass tubes that lined the lab walls. The biotic plasma within these tubes lit up the room a sickly but almost homey yellow, like an aging photograph. Suspended in the yellow tubes, purple-black nanite amalgams warped and shifted, like smoke, like ink diluting in water, like embryos kicking. 

“So, 3 in the morning?” said Aedan, still watching the nanite amalgams.

“There was an item that required my attention,” said Moira, holding up a small metallic triangle up to the light of the lab worktable and squinting at it. 

“A... London item that required you attention?”

Moira smiled. “Perhaps...”

“What was the team grabbing in London?” said Aedan.

“Who said they were grabbing anything in London?” said Moira.

“If Talon wanted to make a statement they’d do something bigger than an EMP,” said Aedan folding his arms, “This looks like textbook asset acquisition.”

Moira huffed and rolled her eyes a little, smiling. “Do I have to explain what ‘compartmentalization’ means?”

“It means you don’t want to tell me?” said Aedan, folding his arms and raising his eyebrows.

“It means you knowing might be more trouble than you want,” said Moira, walking over with a small tray holding two metallic triangles, “And you do remember why I called you down here to begin with?” 

Aedan sighed, “Yes,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“Hold still,” said Moira, picking up one of the triangles from her tray, “This may sting a little.” 

Cupping the back of Aedan’s head Moira pressed one biofeed sensor above the inner corner of Aedan’s eyebrow. It prickled on contact, like the rough end of velcro, then stuck. Moira placed the other one on as well, and that one prickled too.

“That wasn’t so bad,” said Aedan.

“I haven’t turned them on yet,” said Moira, walking over to a monitor, “Deep breath.” She hit a key on her keyboard and Aedan flinched at what felt like bee stings above his eyebrows, then ached for a few moments after. His eyes ached, like he had been staring at a screen for hours, but that faded too.

“You get used to them,” said Moira, “It’s better running around with a silly-looking halo biofeed, I assure you.” 

Aedan groaned a little, massaging his temples, and then opened his eyes.

“So do you see them?” asked Moira. Aedan turned his head, seeing the numerous frames of Talon guards and grunts moving through the halls of the compound highlighted through the walls in a noticeable but non-distracting green.

“Yes,” said Aedan.

“Good,” said Moira, she put her hands on his shoulders, “We’re scientists first and agents second, remember that. This,” she pressed a finger against his temple, “Is more important than any rabble of grunts and more powerful than any weapon. If you ever find yourself in the field, you would do well to remember that.” She brought herself up to her full height, “Speaking of the field,” she continued, walking over to her desk, “We’ve thought it prudent to make sure you have some equipment, should you ever be called upon, or if there is ever an attack on one of our facilities.” She motioned to him and he stood up and walked up alongside her as she opened a relatively large box on her lab table and pulled out what appeared to be a deep gray smock. “Everything’s been crafted to your proportions from all of our biodata,” she said, putting the smock into his arms, “But I figure we should make sure the whole thing fits.”

Aedan nodded, took the box, then walked of to the compound locker rooms to dress. The outfit itself was a sort of hybrid between Talon lab technician gear and the standard assassin’s armor. It was a bit tedious to get on, but fairly straightforward. Moira was waiting for him when he got back, straightening one of the gauntlets.

“It fits all right?” she asked.

“It’s... a little heavy on the chest,” said Aedan.

“Nothing a bit more strength training can’t fix,” said Moira, “Try fading.”

Aedan decomposed his entire physical form to black smoke, which whipped around Moira before he reformed, stumbling a bit behind her. She turned on her heel to face him, and he patted at the chest plate, making sure everything was still in place, and then gave Moira a thumbs up.

 “Very good,” said Moira, “Hopefully you’ll never be out in the field, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” she paused, “You look handsome, a thaisce.” 

“Thank you,” said Aedan, looking down at the armor. He rolled his wrists, “Sure you don’t need me for a mission? I’m all geared up.”

Moira just chuckled. “I admire your eagerness,” she said, ruffling his hair. Aedan just grinned and looked around again, squinting at the green highlighted silhouettes through them.

“The data it sends you is limited, of course,” said Moira, “Distance, alarms of other team members in critical condition, and so on--it should serve you well.”

“You realize I’m only going to use this for evil, right?” said Aedan.

Moira just snorted.

“Lots of blackmail material,” said Aedan, squinting, at the walls. He watched the silhouette of a guard sprinting through the halls. “Like that trooper, for example--bet he’s late for something---”

Another green silhouette raced after the first.

“...That one too, I guess?” said Aedan.

The smile shrank on Moira’s face.

A third Talon sniper’s silhouette could be seen through the biofeed. “Her too? I guess they all must have---” the lights suddenly dimmed and an alarm started blaring as Moira drew herself up to her full height.

“Security breach?” said Aedan.

“...Can’t trust people to keep it together for 15 minutes without me....” muttered Moira, walking to the door, “Aedan, stay in the lab.”

“I can help--” Aedan started.

“Stay,” said Moira, passing through the door. Aedan was left sitting in the lab, feeling kind of foolish that he had just been outfitted for a mission, but was being sidelined now that there was a potential breach at the facility. There was a minute or two of tense waiting, and Aedan walked to the door, but didn’t open it, instead looking through the biofeed as best he could. He saw one guard get thrown back by some unseen force, another guard buckled over as some impact struck his stomach before being floored by an...attack from above? The biofeed couldn’t give him intel on hostiles since they weren’t calibrated to it, but he would have guessed five or six intruders must have been blowing their way through the facility guards.

“Okay, no, not staying here,” he muttered under his breath, hitting the panel next to the door to see Moira, accompanied by several Talon troopers, running down the hall.

“Aedan!’ Moira’s next call to him was harsh, “I told you to stay in the lab!”

One of the troopers next to her brought their hand to the side of their helmet, “Target incoming.”

“Target---?” Aedan started and turned his head as a figure slid into view down the hall. Not five intruders. Just one. A girl, dark haired, gripping an IV stand with the bottom wheels snapped off and wielding it like a bo staff, panting, eyes wide. He knew her instantly.

“Aedan--get out of the way!” Moira snapped, but the girl was already racing toward him. She threw the IV like a javelin and it crashed into one of the Talon troopers at Moira’s side, knocking him to the floor. Aedan knew he should have faded--that would be the proper thing to do: Fade, let her run into his mother and their lineup of troopers just behind him, simple enough--but there was one fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a beat where he made eye contact with her. He remembered a girl in a yellow dress holding a rabbit back in Oasis. This was only the same girl in the most minimal sense, all of her features contorted by terror and fury and pure fight-or flight instinct. Still, he recognized large dark gray eyes and thick eyebrows, hair tied half-back by a green and yellow ribbon. 

Rei, he thought, The asset was Rei.

Of course the second half of this thought was spent reeling from a sharp punch in the solarplexus followed up by a stunning uppercut to the jaw. And suddenly she seized him by the breastplate of his armor and all at once had him in a headlock, her forearm firm against his neck, her other hand bracing his head forward in the headlock. A meat shield. A hostage. 

“Everyone, stand back!” Rei shouted, “Don’t make me---I’ll---” she seemed to be having trouble finding the words to properly threaten everyone so she shoved Aedan’s neck harder against her forearm, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll snap his pencil neck! I’m serious! Stay back!”

Aedan made eye-contact with Moira, who seemed completely unfazed by this threat.

“No you won’t,” said Moira, flatly.

Rei shoved Aedan’s head forward more, causing him to gag a little with all the pressure her forearm was putting on his neck. “Yes I will,” she said.

“My dear, all these theatrics are unnecessary,” said Moira, stepping forward.

“I said stay back!” Rei’s voice pitched up. Even through Talon armor Aedan could feel her heart thumping with panic against his back. 

“Let’s examine the situation, shall we?” said Moira, “You have no idea where you are. You have no idea what the layout of this facility is. If you kill your hostage, you no longer have any bargaining chip. What’s more is... you’re your mother’s daughter. I doubt you have the stomach to follow through on that threat anyway. There is no way this ends well. Your choice is how hard you’re willing to make it for yourself.”

Rei gritted her teeth. Aedan could feel her fingers tightening in his hair. “I can make it much, much harder for you,” said Rei, tightening her grip around Aedan, “Get me a transport out of here or I swear I’ll break his neck.”

Moira sighed, “You’re not fooling anyone, dear,” she said, almost pityingly, “The saddest part is how you think you actually have a hostage.” Moira made eye-contact with Aedan then, “For goodness’ sake, stop toying with the poor girl and get over here.”

Somehow it hadn’t occurred to Aedan that he still hadn’t faded all this time. A part of him was still processing, “Rei, it’s Rei,” but as soon as Moira made eye contact with him, he realized he was the one holding up the situation. He faded, his body turning to smoke and slipping from Rei’s grip easily. With his form incorporeal, several guards fired as Aedan reformed next to Moira’s side. Aedan turned around just in time to see Rei swaying where she stood, several tranquilizer darts embedded in her torso. She stared at Aedan, who still had some smoke coming off of him from fading.

“You too...” Rei said quietly, “She... gave it to you too....”

She slumped to the floor unconscious and Moira let out a long and exhausted sigh. “Well that was an ordeal,” Moira muttered before turning on her heel to face the rest of the guards, “All right--I said constant sedation. Who disregarded my instructions?”

“They gave her enough to down a horse,” said one of the troopers.

“Her body is a raging cesspool of biotics--you have to account for the accelerated metabolism with that. Did no one read my memo?”

The Talon troopers stood around sheepishly.

“Unbelievable,” Moira said with a roll of her eyes. She turned toward Aedan, “Are you all right, a thaisce?”

“Yeah...” said Aedan, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Stay in the lab next time,” said Moira, touching a hand to his shoulder before kissing his forehead.

“Rei’s the asset,” said Aedan, still trying and failing to process what had just happened.

“Yes,” said Moira, “I suppose there’s no use dancing around it now... Our team picked her up in the London attack.”

“...what are we going to do with her?” said Aedan.

“Oh, a thaisce,” said Moira, smoothing his hair, “We’re going to change the world.”

[newsfact]

Google Just Made the Pixel’s Best Super Power Even Better – Review Geek

Google

In addition to announcing two new Pixel phones at its recent Pixel Fall Launch event, Google just made it easier (and more pleasant!) to call businesses and field incoming calls. Now there are tools for finding the best time to call a business, wading through automated menus, and more.

Google has previously made great strides for making phone calls a less terrible experience in general. Anyone with a Pixel phone has already had access to its fantastic slate of call features like Call Screen, Hold for Me, and Visual Voicemail. Now, Google has added a few more tools for calls that’ll actually make calling up a business a not totally unpleasant occurrence. They’re available starting today on Pixel 6 and Pixel 6 Pro devices in the United States.

Wait Times

Google

Waiting in an indeterminably long queue to talk to a representative sucks, especially when you’re busy and have other things to do. Google’s new Wait Times feature will show you the projected wait times for a certain day and time for the upcoming week, so you can have an idea of when the best time to call is. 

Google’s predictions are, as the company describes it, “inferred from call length data that is not linked to user identifiers.” So while any listed wait times aren’t an exact guarantee, they’re an educated guess, and honestly, that’s better than heading into a call blind. If you’re calling a business you can visit—like a restaurant—these wait times may even give you a heads up on how busy the place is at that moment.

Direct My Call

Google

Arguably the only thing worse than waiting on hold is having to navigate seemingly endless automated menus. Luckily, the Direct My Call feature can take of that hassle for you. Google Assistant listens to menu options for you, then transcribes them onto your phone’s screen. What’s really cool here is that you can tap which option you want (like “Press 1 to hear our hours of operation”); this means you’ll no longer have to remember every option AND that you’ll still be able to see each one clearly even if your connection isn’t great. 

This feature is powered by Google’s Duplex technology. That uses language understanding models and advanced speech recognition technology to understand and contextualize any option you as a caller would need to interact with, like when you would need to say a word (like “representative” to speak with an agent) or press a button (like “1” to hear business hours, or to enter account information.

Direct My Call is similar to another feature Google launched last year called Hold For Me, but made better. Google estimates that Hold For Me saves U.S. Pixel users over 1.5 million minutes each month and that it will soon be expanding to international Pixel users in Canada, Japan, and Australia in the coming months.

The Direct My Call feature can recognize when hold music is being played and can tell the difference between when a pre-recorded message plays and when an actual representative picks up. When they do, Google Assistant will display a notification on your screen telling you that “Someone’s waiting to talk to you” then prompting you to “Return to call.”

Caller ID and Privacy Improvements

Google

Spam calls are the bane of the modern tech user’s existence, so Google is working to improve its caller ID coverage for businesses through its users. Now, users can share information about unknown businesses that you call or answer; Google will eventually display this info to help others better identify and handle random calls through Call Screen, which will give you an idea of who is calling before you answer (and potentially waste your time).

So, you might eventually see a bubble appear under the incoming phone number that says something like “Likely: finance & insurance.” Hopefully, this will come to help you better discern spam calls from ones you might have been expecting but not know the number for. Google says that any information you share “is not joined with any user identifiers.” 

Call Screen currently screens about 37 million calls each month. Google is now expanding the manual Call Screen to international Pixel users in the U.K., France, Ireland, Spain, Germany, Italy, and Australia. 

Any audio transcriptions are processed on your Pixel device, ensuring an experience that’s both speedy and private. Audio is not shared with Google (unless you want it to be, to help improve features).

Source: Google

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[iartlife]

Chapter Three

Pt. I

THE HEIR

Liam woke up on the couch. He must have fallen back asleep after getting up so early when his dad called. The TV had gone back to its usual program. A banner ran across the bottom with random updates and 'Tune in to channel 6 for more.'

If he recalled, the local police were freaking out about a werewolf attack. Maybe they were finally going to be recognized by the public. Not the best way to do it but it's not like he had a hand in the matter. Liam flicked the TV to channel six and they were buzzing about the captured suspect.

He looked at his phone. It was at twenty percent with four missed calls and three voicemails. What the hell? One call was from his dad and the others were from an unknown number. Someone really wanted to talk to him. He dialed the voicemail and put in his password. He listened to its little speech.

"First message. Sent today. At. 7:34. AM." It said in its automated voice.

A woman spoke in the message. "Hey, Liam, this is Cindy. I know we haven't spoken in over ten years, but I kinda need your help." She sighed and there was a long pause. "You have a son. And I think you should meet him. I never planned on telling you since I found out after we broke up but he just woke up with shredded clothes this morning. I'm not really sure what to do, please call me." It clicked at the end.

'Next message. Sent today. At.' Liam ended the call.

He sat there and stared at the phone.

Wait.

He had a son?

And he didn't even know!?

And the boy is a werewolf. Quite unfortunate but the most likely to happen. Cindy wasn't entirely human either if he recalled correctly. He never expected he'd be a father... ever. The boy would be eleven now. That's about the time he'd start to change.

Damn.

He, Liam, had a son.

He didn't know the first thing about being a dad but God dammit he would try. What should he do? What if the kid didn't like him? Or worse, what if the kid liked him?

There was only one way to find out. He punched 'call' on the number with three missed calls.

It rang almost its full cycle when Cindy answered. "Hey, I didn't think you were going to call me back."

"Hey, yeah, uhh sorry about that. I was asleep... You still have my number?"

"Well, yeah." She paused awkwardly. "You got my messages?"

"I listened to one, yes." He wasn't sure what he should say.

"Oh... well I forgot to mention in the first one he is also vampire like myself. Have you heard of that happening before?"

"Oh shit. I mean, yeah. I've heard of it, it's super rare."

"So..." Cindy said.

"So?"

"When would be a good time to get together? I mean if you even-"

"Oh, um, today would be fine. If that works for you guys."

"That's perfect. How about lunch at McDonald's? Noon sound alright?"

"Great, Awesome, I'll see you there." Liam hung up in his excitement. He was going to meet his son! Scenarios ran through his head. What would he think of him? What had his mother told him about his absent father?

Liam went to his room to make sure he had something nice to wear. He did not. Today just became laundry day.

He threw his nicest shirt and pants in the washer then added all the underwear and socks he could find. He topped it off with an armful of his non-work shirts. The rest of his clothes would have to have a load of their own. They might need to be washed twice too. Grease does not come out easily.

He returned to his room and streched over the bed to reach his phone charger on the wall side. After plugging in his dying phone, he lay there thinking.

A Pyrewolf was rare for sure. Both parents had to be born pureblood vampire and werewolf respectively. Two species that didn't commonly get along anyway. The condition also came with it's own quirks. He knew very little about it but his uncle probably knew a lot more. Liam would have to call him later.

He remembered the other two voicemails. One of the remaining two was from Cindy. Probably something along the lines of 'oh I forgot to mention.' The last one might be the product of the missed call from his father.

He called the voicemail again and let it do it's thing. He deleted the first message he already heard and listened to the next one. It was basically exactly what he thought. He deleted that one as well.

The third was his father. "Hey son sorry to bother you again. I'm on my way to the police station in Parkvale but I'm not sure how long I'll be there. I might be under arrest until things calm down, it's hard to tell right now but I intend to help with the case. I'd appreciate it if you'd check on the resort if I'm not back by tomorrow. Thanks Liam. Tschüss."

"What the hell Dad." Liam said out loud to no one.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

MASTER

[ajstanton8]

I think it's important to understand what happened last week, putting all differences aside which effectively takes out all the blaming.. Historically , since forever, we just run with the blaming and hide or brush under carpet the errors and mistakes, failure. Everything we need to understand so we can learn something and actually more forward. So we don't keep repeating the same mistakes over and over agian, driven by a thousand forms of fear even with today's fast communication it's still the same cycle or loop And we assume it's ok and doing during our.life here with such littimated understanding. I named Acceptance 101 and it's starts with what one doesn't accept not with what one has already acceptrd that's just a make of defonse and foundation for wall of drnial .

The weather lady and folks gave us a week and half notice at least with reminders if not daily. No one in south Texas gave us indication of outages planned or otherwise. Not even the planners in Washington. I guess they figured we'd find out when we call in to power company and listen to that dumb message after the power has been disconnected, and on the same day of our worst cold front AND same day of happy presidents (and people's) day. How brilliant. The Washington planners either new all of this and figured the governer would be the one to spread the word. But he found out like I did after power was disconnected And I'm sure his phones started ringing of the hook. That's another. Definition for crazy doing the same thing over and over agian maybe expecting different or none at all except your money. And to top that off, planned or otherwise, plants got disconnected by directive or not shut down by the freeze. Thats two barrel and maybe 3 iif you think in your mind that you have the eeather. So what's the problem you ask ? Well it's the same problem, that we have had a problem with over and over agian for about 9,000 years. We cant learn past our basics. Re-phrase, we can,... that's the hope. It's not about finding fault and blaming anybody, that's basics to get what want and so we war with each other over and over agian with complete oblivious awareness to the damage we are doing and producing all around . At 58 or 59 I was just made aware. The ones that are in the worst denial, discover their awareness the last, The ones that think they have control, power and money are the last ones to become aware, in this life or emmediatly after death.

For the record:

Monday. My electricity at noon is off, I thought I was late paying my bill which has happened a couple of times since the bigginings of 2020.. I call my power compamy after not being able to make a payment online and I didn't get my usuall great AI service that recognizes my calling number. Instead I get this prerecorded message to provide my zip code to report the outage. I'm still thinking wtf ? I just need to pay my bill, I'm not calling to report an outage but that's the only option on the phone unless you have people's numbere. So I hung up because to Just report an outage, provide Zip code, so that the automated could tell me the elect. & Gas comp, Center-Point and give they're number. I already new all that. Nothing has been communicated and I'm already frustrated and upset. I just keep anger in check and Might as well call center-point. I call, get an answer and hear the same voice of of the prerecorded from earlier with TEXAS U- Energy (that always provided excellent customer service) The message said that due to conditions there will be a series planned disconnects in an effort to conserve Energy..to me conserve energy is derective from Washington and so was planned in Washington. This not about Blambing it's sbout. I know the Planniners in Houston, Dallas and by Phone in Austin.Neither the Houston Mayor and folks or the Governor of Texas in Austion gave me any indication that this was coming down the pike. By tweets all day into the night.

[zanytimetravelenthusiast-blog]

Easy Pro Webinars Review And Large Bonus

Easy Pro Webinars Testimonial - Are you searching for more knowleadge about Easy Pro Webinars? Please go through my sincere testimonial concerning it before picking to evaluate the weaknesses as well as strengths of it. If you acquire Easy Pro Webinars with my web link, you will certainly obtain special as well as eye-catching incentive bundles. I constantly update my benefits everyday.

Introducing Easy Pro Webinars

Exactly how to Produce a Webinar from square one in 10 Simple Steps (Part 4)

While searching for an intriguing subject, you should take into consideration:

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Participating in various other webinars: Begin attending different other Easy Pro Webinars occurring in your field. This will not just help you in getting originalities from your rival's subject but additionally assist you comprehend patterns in the kinds of subjects being discussed. With these understandings, you can decide on a sensible subject and also best it with research.

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When you have actually efficiently hosted your webinar, start assessing your efforts.Use the feedback provided by your participants in the follow-up e-mails. Think about these as well as make adjustments to make certain that your future webinars are a lot more successful.

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What did you consider the steps I've offered here? Do you have any ideas or suggestions you 'd like to add? Let me recognize in the comments.

Easy Pro Webinars Review & Introduction

Vendor: Matt Garrett

Item: Easy Pro Webinars

Release Date: 2019-Oct-02

Launch Time: 11:00 EDT

Front-End Rate: $47

Sales Web Page: https://www.socialleadfreak.com/easy-pro-webinars-review/

Niche: Affiliate Advertising

What Is Easy Pro Webinars?

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[pogueman]

Amazon's Alexa calling: the phoneless home phone

For what was originally supposed to be a mail-order bookstore, Amazon (AMZN) sure is doing a lot of trailblazing.

I mean, Amazon came up with the idea for the Echo—the cylinder that serves as a sort of Siri for the home—all by itself. It invented that product category, putting Google, Apple, Microsoft, and Samsung into the awkward position of being copycat followers.

Now that more than 10 million people have Echo devices, Amazon has just taken another trailblazing step: With a free software update, it has turned them into hands-free speakerphones. Calling Chris is as easy as saying “Alexa, call Chris” from across the room, even if your hands are goopy with flour or you can’t find your phone.

Over at Chris’s house, the ring atop the Echo pulses green, a pleasant chime sounds, and Alexa announces, “David [or whatever your name is] would like to talk.”

Chris says “Alexa, answer,” and the conversation begins.

At the end of the call, either one of you can say “Alexa, hang up” to end the chat.

So whom can you call? Anyone in your phone’s address book who has either an Amazon Echo or the free Alexa app. That’s right: The Alexa app is now an internet calling app, like Skype or FaceTime Audio. Like them, it’s free and doesn’t use any cellular calling minutes.

By the way: Although the big-ticket item here is hands-free speakerphone calls, there’s also what Amazon calls messaging. It’s not what you’d think, though. It’s not sending text messages, exactly. And it’s not voicemail, exactly. It’s a cool kind of hybrid.

Within the app, you can text with keyboard or by voice.

You say “Alexa, send a message to Chris,” and you’re invited to speak a message. You’re sending an audio recording. The ring at the top of Chris’s Echo glows green and chimes once; when Chris says, “Alexa, play my message,” your recording plays back.

But if Chris opens the Alexa app, your message also plays there, with an automated typed transcript. So it’s kinda like a text message in that way. Within the app, you can also send typed texts.

It’s also kinda like voicemail, in that you can leave a recorded message for someone—but the difference is that you’re in control. You decide to leave a message before you even call, rather than just hoping the other person doesn’t answer.

The help screens.

What it’s good for

At its finest, Alexa calling is like a Jetsons version of the home phone. Not only is it cordless, it’s phoneless. You don’t have to find a handset, pick it up, press buttons, hold it up to your head; you just speak into the room. You may sound pretty echoey to the other guy if you’re really far from the Echo—but if you’re within a few feet, it sounds great.

And of course, if you’re using your phone instead of an Echo, it sounds just like a speakerphone call.

It’s likely that there are some people you contact often enough that the Alexa calling thing could be handy—a sibling, parent, child, boss, lover. Alexa calling is the communication equivalent of the One-Click Buy button on Amazon.com: It eliminates so many steps, so much friction, that you’re inclined to use it more.

What it’s not good for

There are plenty of limitations and footnotes to Alexa calling. These don’t mean that Alexa calling is worse than our existing communication methods—only that it’s got a different set of pros and cons.

Limited calling circle. You can call only people who have an Amazon Echo, Echo Dot, or the free Alexa app. You can’t call someone who has the battery-operated Echo Tap, and you can’t call someone’s regular cellphone number. You can call only someone who’s (a) in your phone’s Contacts, and (b) has made himself available for Alexa calling. (The setup takes about five taps, and requires typing in a security code that Amazon sends you via text message.) So it’s a pretty small circle—but then again, Skype, WhatsApp, FaceTime, and Snapchat started with small networks, too.

Everything rings simultaneously. When someone calls, all your Echos ring at once, and your phone app “rings.” In other words, you can’t use the Echos as an intercom within your house—but Amazon tells me that feature is coming soon. Very cool.

It’s all speakerphone. If you have an Echo, all calls are all speakerphone, all the time. Any family member can hear. Any family member can play back the messages, too. So, you know: sext with care.

Finally, at the moment, there’s no way to block incoming calls from specific people in your Contacts. You can turn on Do Not Disturb for all calls, but you can’t block just one idiot who’s abusing the privilege.

The tech blogs are having a field day with this one, calling it a “glaring security hole” and conjuring up the prospect of unwanted incoming calls from abusive ex-boyfriends and creepy pedophiles.

Frankly, though, the likelihood of this kind of abuse seems pretty slim. Your ex would have to know that you’ve got Alexa calling installed; would have to turn it on himself; would have to call you; and, upon hearing Alexa announce, “So and so would like to talk,” you’d have to say, “Alexa, answer.”

Above all, you’d have to keep your ex in your Contacts. And why would you do that?

In any case, Amazon says that it will add the option to block people within a few weeks.

Chalk up another Amazon invention

I’m already using Alexa calling for quick check-ins with my wife, my mom, and my assistant; it’s just super cool, easy, quick, and free. It’s got elements of a home phone line, a cellphone on speaker, and a walkie-talkie—but it’s not any of those.

Amazon has big plans for Alexa calling. We know that you’ll soon be able to direct calls to specific people or devices within your house. We know that you’ll be able to make video calls using the same steps, once the new Echo Look becomes available in June. (It’s an Echo with a screen and camera.) We know that, with permission from both parties, you’ll be able to “drop in” to peek through another Echo’s camera at any time—to keep an eye on an elderly relative, for example.

And I’ll bet that soon, Alexa will recognize who in your household is speaking (as Google Home does now), and will therefore maintain different message “boxes” for different people.

In other words, I love Alexa calling. It’s free, it’s well conceived, it works flawlessly, and it’s only beginning.

More from David Pogue:

Inside the World’s Greatest Scavenger Hunt: Part 1    •  Part 2   •   Part 3  •  Part 4  •  Part 5

The David Pogue Review: Windows 10 Creators Update

Now I get it: Bitcoin

David Pogue tested 47 pill-reminder apps to find the best one

David Pogue’s search for the world’s best air-travel app

The little-known iPhone feature that lets blind people see with their fingers

David Pogue, tech columnist for Yahoo Finance, welcomes nontoxic comments in the comments section below. On the web, he’s davidpogue.com. On Twitter, he’s @pogue. On email, he’s poguester@yahoo.com. You can read all his articles here, or you can sign up to get his columns by email.

[scottislate]

The Spider of Gotham - Chapter 2

Ace Chemicals had a lot of projects that they proudly displayed on their website, but he could find nothing about spiders. They didn't even dabble in pest control. There had been a spider, he had the dried husk in a matchbox in his desk. It didn't match any of the pictures he found online, or explain why Ace Chemicals had taken an interest in his medical care. Beyond avoiding a lawsuit.

That could be my way in.

Peter made it through the day by keeping his head down. He didn't have many friends, at all really, but it was the price to pay to fly under the radar. There were days when he found himself turning to talk to someone in the empty chair at lunch. A young man with red hair and a blonde girl sat with him in his dreams. Repeatedly. Other times his room, but not, would be packed with the three of them studying. It wasn't something that he could really talk to anyone about.

He shook the thought from his head. The spider thing took precedence. He took the train to Ace Chemicals once school was finished. His phone vibrated in his pocket. The text display said it was Uncle Ben. He hit ignore.

Peter stared up at the building. It stretched up to the sky in a mixture of classic architecture and modern design. The tour guide said that they had incorporated the original building into the construction of the skyscraper. That translated to them taking one of the old chemical tanks and turning it to an art piece. The original building had been little more than a factory. Now they had moved on to research and development with shiny labs, fancy décor, and a new suit at the top of the table.

He watched the doors for a while. People came and went without much fuss. He knew from the tour that there was a security check in the lobby that required a badge. There were also cameras, guards, and every door to an important room needed clearance.

"This is a stupid idea," he whispered.

That strange feeling played along his spine. His eyes went to a single man in the middle of the throng. Black reflective glasses stared back at him. The man was thickly built, wore a simple gray suit that blended in with the people around him, and radiated menace. Peter could tell the man was focused solely on him.

"Yeah," he hurried back to the train. "Really stupid idea."

Peter stopped at the turnstile. He had used the last of his tokens to get out here. The feeling came back stronger. He looked over his shoulder to see the man coming down the stairs. Peter gritted his teeth and hopped over the turnstile.

"I'll pay double next time," he called when he landed on the other side.

He sprinted to the platform in time to see the train pull away. The area around him was practically empty. It was still a couple of hours before the workday ended. A few stragglers, and a homeless guy were on the platform with him. The sound of the turnstile echoed down the stairs. That new feeling was screaming at him to move. Run, hide, fight, or do something. He couldn't just stay put.

Peter scanned the area. The station was underground and only accessible through the stairs. He couldn't double-back without going passed the man he was trying to avoid. The bathroom wasn't an option, not only were they notoriously gross, they only had one door.

Doors.

He jogged along the platform. There was a plain door with an 'employees only' sign along the far wall. It was locked.

Of course it's locked.

Peter grabbed the handle and pushed. The lock gave out a sharp snap as it broke. He slipped through and pulled the door shut behind him. His hand stayed on the door to hold it in place. The room was dark and, thankfully, empty. It stretched out to a hallway that ended in a turn back toward the entrance.

Hold the door or run?

He shrugged. The feeling was still there, not as strong, but present. Peter jerked the handle toward the frame. The metal twisted and pinched together. He let go of the door. It stayed closed.

Why not both?

Peter walked slowly down the hall. They didn't do toll booths anymore, he had no real clue what an employee room was for these days. The hallway led away from the track so it wasn't for access to the rails. That feeling faded with every step he took. Peter started to jog down the hall. It ended in a dark storage room with a single window giving light.

He ran to the wall, hopped up, and pressed the window open. The rusty hinges screeched in protest. He rolled out of the window. The room was familiar, it was the area before the turnstiles. He got to his feet and ran up the stairs to the street.

Peter took a right and continued on. He slipped easily through the throng. Somehow his feet knew where to go. He stopped running when he got to a bus stop he recognized. It wasn't one he usually took, but he knew how to get home. He used the last bit of money he had to pay for a seat. His breath came out in a long, ragged stretch. He leaned his head against the window. The trip would take a while.

He took out his phone and checked his messages.

"Peter," Uncle Ben said. "You're supposed to be home. Call me when you get this."

There was a sound in the background. It was breaking glass. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Easy," he heard Uncle Ben say. "We don't have much."

Muffled voice.

"Easy," Uncle Ben repeated. "No need to-"

There was a pop. Uncle Ben grunted. The phone clattered to the floor. He could hear footsteps. Something crashed.

"Peter," Uncle Ben whispered. His voice grew quieter with every word. "I love you, son. Tell May, I love her."

"Press seven to delete. Press nine to save," the automated voice cut in.

Peter couldn't breathe. He looked at the phone. Did he save it? Did he want to hear his uncle die again and again? Would Aunt May want to know? Could the police use the information? Maybe Uncle Ben was still alive. The bus was moving too slow.

He pulled the bell. The bus pulled to the side. Peter pushed his way to the door and out onto the street. He had never run so fast.

-

Peter sat at the kitchen table. A string of police officers came and went. They had been called before he got home. He had found Uncle Ben on the floor in the living room. The carpet had absorbed a lot of blood. He wasn't sure if he could go in that room again. Ever.

He showed the police his call log. Played the message. They took his statement. One of the neighbors had called the police. A burglar had broken in through the back door. He had shot Uncle Ben and ran off through the front door without taking anything. White male, between six feet and six-three, thin build, and shaggy blond hair. Fled toward downtown.

Peter heard a couple of the officers in the other room. This wasn't the first break-in that ended in bloodshed. Someone was supplying the scum of Gotham with hardware. This would play out in the same way somewhere else within a week.

"My aunt," Peter turned his attention to an officer that sat opposite of him. "She's at work. She doesn't know."

The officer nodded, "do you have a contact number?"

"It's in my phone," Peter hadn't touched it since he'd gotten home. "Aunt May. Work."

"We'll let her know," the officer looked down at where it sat. "May I get the number?"

"Yes," Peter blinked. "Is there something I should be doing?"

"You've done all you can, kid," the officer flipped through the contacts.

Peter leaned back in the chair. No. I haven't. But I will.

[kristablogs]

All the big announcements from Apple’s 2020 WWDC keynote

Virtual Tim Cook is ready to take us through the WWDC keynote. (Apple/)

Welcome to WWDC. Typically, Apple’s World Wide Developer’s conference happens in California, but the COVID-19 pandemic has forced it online. Despite the shift to a fully digital event, we’re still getting a full-fledged keynote to kick off the conference, which likely means a look ahead into the future of Apple’s biggest platforms. You can watch along in the video below and keep scrolling for a running log of all the new stuff.

Tim Cook starts the event on the stage in an empty auditorium. The production value is extremely high as you might expect. From a remote viewer standpoint, this is better than the regular live event because it lacks the clapping and variability of a live crowd.

Apple dives right into the updates with iOS 14. The announcements start with the homescreen. The icons can now grow and act like widgets.

The App Library now lives at the end of your homescreen pages and allows you to easily find apps you don’t use that frequently.

Apple knows you have too many apps and you don't know where any of them are. (Apple /)

Widgets now come in different sizes depending on what information you want to present. The idea of more information and customizable widgets sounds great, but name-checking the cluttered Apple Watch face designs is slightly concerning.

Widgets can sit in your homepage with your apps. Arranging them works like moving apps around. A Smart Stack at the top of the homescreen throws up information from your apps. It automatically decides what you probably want to see depending on your habits and time of day.

The Smart Stack widget at the top of the screen serves you up data you probably want to see. (Apple/)

iPhone now gets picture-in-picture functionality that seems a lot like how it works on the iPad. You can swipe the picture away and keep the audio playing, which is handy.

Picture-in-Picture is coming to the iphone. (Apple/)

Siri’s new look is a lot smaller as well. Instead of taking over your entire screen, the Siri dialog will not rest in a smaller part of the screen. Everything is a widget now. Widgets rule all.

With its new update, Siri is getting access to more direct responses to factual questions. So, you won’t hear “here’s what I found in the web” as often. Siri is getting on-device dictation as well as a seriously upgraded translation function that works entirely on the iPhone. The app intelligently detects the language spoken and allows two people to have a conversation in close to real-time.

All of this translation happens without the web. (Apple/)

Messages

Messages has reportedly seen a 40 percent increase in usage year-over-year and group messaging has more than doubled. Apple is giving Memoji users more than 20 new headstyles in case your cartoon version of yourself doesn’t accurately represent the way you look.

Group chats now allow for inline replies so you can thread individual parts of a chain. You can also now mention someone in a conversation, which allows you to specifically ping someone and prevent your message from getting lost in the flood.

The Messages app is getting a new look and improved group chat function. (Apple /)

Maps

The new update will introduce Guides that work with “brands” to give you specific recommendations for places in your area. iOS 14′s Maps update focuses on trying to help users find more eco-friendly ways to get where you’re going. It finally gets a cycling option, which will start in NYC, LA, and a few others. It will route you along bike-friendly paths and indicate altitude change so you can plan for how challenging the ride will be.

In addition to bike maps, the new update will also estimate electric vehicle ranges.

Bike routes have been a long-awaited Maps feature. (Apple/)

Carplay

Carplay is now using NFC with the iPhone to start and unlock a car. It’s debuting with the 2021 BMW 5-series. You can put the phone on the charging pad in the car and start it without bringing a physical dongle with you. You can loan out the key via the app, which allows parents to restrict access. Apple wants to roll the tech out to any phone using its U1 chip. It’s rolling out a new standard starting next year.

App Store

App Clips aim to give users the specific parts of apps they need in a given situation without downloading the whole thing. You can tap your phone on an NFC chip or scan a QR code and launch a small part of the app. It ties directly into the OS, so you can pay for things with Apple Pay and log in with Apple’s integrated sign-in process. Each App Clip will be less than 10 MB and part of an SDK.

App clips let you use app functions without downloading the entire piece of software. (Apple /)

iPad OS 14

Sidebar makes the iPad look suspiciously like a typical system window. Folders and navigation sit on the left, while the actual files and content sit on the right. It’s very familiar.

This looks familar. (Apple/)

When calls come in, they won’t take over the entire screen anymore. They will show up in a small notification dropdown that you can swipe away to dismiss. It should make getting phone calls considerably less jarring.

Apple says it has rebuilt search “from the ground up.” You can access it from any app. It searches contacts, apps, mail, files and web searches.

Pencil

Easily write into apps and have it translated to typed text. (Apple/)

Scribble will now allow users to write into text fields and have it converted to typed text. Improved handwriting recognition now allows you to select written text just like you would with words you’ve typed. I wonder if it will read my terrible writing.

Scribble recognizes both English and Chinese automatically. If the iPad realizes you’ve written a phone number or an address, it can throw out app-specific suggestions about what do to with them.

Airpods

Finally, Airpods will automatically switch between devices. You can now move around between Macs, iPads, and iPhones automatically without having to resync your device.

AirPods Pro are now getting spatial audio. Apple is adding fixed-field surround-sound to its higher-end earbuds. It tracks the motion of your head, so the sound will always feel like it’s coming from the real world. It will work with Dolby Atmos as well as 5.1 and 7.1. This is pretty impressive for a pair of wireless earbuds and I’m looking forward to trying it.

WatchOS 7

Apple is updating watch faces so you can share them. You can now discover watch faces in the App Store, on a website, or directly from another user. If you download a face that pulls data from apps you don’t have, you’ll get an automatic prompt to download them.

The watch face options are about to get more exciting. (Apple/)

The workout app will now count dancing. It uses advanced movement tracking in order to keep tabs on the non-consistent movements that happen on the dance-floor. The Workout app now offers a simplified dashboard to give you an easy view of your fitness.

The Apple Watch now tracks Sleep as well. Apple says its taking a “holistic” approach to sleep. The new Wind Down feature aims to help users transition easily into sleep. You set your bedtime and the device will turn on do-not-disturb for your devices and the watch screen turns off completely.

The phone will be more aggressive about enforcing your bedtime. (Apple /)

Sleep tracking happens with a machine learning algorithm. It tracks your movement, including the small movements from your breathing as you’re sleeping.

Lastly, the Watch will now automatically detect hand-washing and make sure you put in the required 20 seconds of scrubbing. If you try to cut out early, it will “politely” remind you to get back to it.

Privacy

Apple is devoting an entire section of the keynote to how it treats your information. More than 200 million users have used Sign-In With Apple since its launch. This year, Apple is allowing developers to “upgrade” their app log-ins to Apple’s system.

Now, instead of sharing your specific location with an app, you can share a relative location. Apps are adding a clearer indication of when the camera and microphone are working. Developers will now need to provide summaries of privacy information that will live in the App Store. It’s like a nutrition label on your groceries.

You'll know what you're sharing when you download an app. (Apple/)

Smart Home

Apple is partnering with Google and Amazon while open-sourcing Home Kit to make a new standard for home automation. Apple has always made a big deal about how HomeKit devices are end-to-end encrypted.

HomeKit cameras can now let users dictate areas of a cameras’ field-of-view so you won’t get as many false notifications from a doorbell camera. Facial recognition will now also look for people you’ve tagged in your photos.

macOS Big Sur

Apple calls this the “biggest change since the introduction of OS X.” At first glance, it feels like it has a lot more in common with the iPad.

The new macOS looks a lot like iPad's interface. (Apple/)

The new macOS even gets control center, so you can easily adjust screen brightness and volume. It feels a lot like a mobile device. Notifications also stack up on the right side and group together. Remember Gadgets?

Widgets can also live in the sidebar. (Apple/)

Safari

Apple claims that Safari is 50 percent faster than Chrome when loading frequently visited websites. It has advantages in privacy and battery life, too. Please tell me that the tab presentation is better.

Safari now actively monitors your saved passwords to see if they have been compromised in data breaches. Apple’s browser also now gets compatibility with the Extensions API so developers can port their extensions over from other platforms. Safari also allows users to customize what pages and content extensions can view and track, which is a welcome addition.

The new Safari has been redesigned. (Apple/)

Tabs are looking better, but I’m curious what happens when I get 100 of them in there.

Scrolling over a tab for a preview is handy, but still a little time consuming. (Apple/)

Hardware

Apple is now officially moving to Apple Silicon for the chips in its Macs. We’ve been hearing rumors about this for a long time.

This whole process started with the iPhone, which had an Apple chip inside. It started with A4 and has gone through ten generations and CPU performance has improved over 100x.

This is a huge shift for Apple away from Intel. (Apple/)

The first-party Apple apps are already native to the architecture and Adobe and Microsoft have already begun converting some of their apps to work on Apple’s new hardware. Presenters have been using the new hardware for the entirety of the presentation.

Apple’s Rosetta 2 technology will help translate older apps to the new hardware architecture. The demo includes playing a stock version of a Tomb Raider game downloaded directly from the App Store. iPad and iOS apps now run totally unmodified on the mac without a middle step.

Developers can get a developer’s hardware kit that includes a Mac Mini with the new chip inside.

The new developer transition kit comes in the form of a Mac Mini with the new chip inside. (Apple/)

Customers should expect to see the first Mac with Apple Silicon inside before the end of the year and the transition will take two years. Apple says it still has a couple Intel-based Macs in the pipeline about which it’s very excited. Could one be a new touch-enabled Apple laptop? (No one suggested anything along those lines during the presentation, but it really seems like it would make sense at this point.)

That’s it for now. It’s no surprise that we didn’t get any specific new hardware—the new iPhone typically shows up in the Fall. It sounds like the company has some interesting hardware in the pipeline, however.

WWDC will continue on this week and you can join in more sessions by going to Apple’s WWDC site.