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matan4il · 10 months ago

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sorry if this isn't a good place to ask but you're one of the few blogs on here that has actually done any research at all on the subject and. yknow how the pro-palestine donation posts repeatedly give you the option to buy esims specifically. why is that? I've never seen any other movement where the donation posts had you buy esims for them. what fucking use *are* they? you can't eat them, drink them- you might be able to order food with them if it wasn't for the fucking war.

maybe this is cynicism on my part but i genuinely suspect they're being used by hamas to spread propaganda. why else would they need that many esims? but you definitely know more about this than i do.

Hi lovely, sorry it took me a moment to reply!

I can tell you that even before I got this ask, the eSims campaign struck me as odd and suspicious, based on a few basic things I know, but if I was going to reply to you on this, I needed to do some research about it.

To make this ask reply clear, by "connectivity" I mean the ability to either make phone calls, log onto the internet, or both.

Okay, so why did this campaign make me wonder in the first place? Because while there have been some connectivity problems for Gazans, from what I know, there was only one time when connectivity was down to a degree that would justify a campaign, even then it wasn't completely gone for good, because Israel has worked to restore connectivity to Gazans. But I also wondered whether, if the connectivity is down, an eSim would be the solution? And if it would be, why would there be a need for that many eSims? We're over 5.5 months into this war, that's almost half a year of constantly hearing how Gaza is about to starve, so are eSims really Gazans' biggest problem if they have no food and basic needs? But even if it was enough of a problem to merit a campaign, wouldn't there have been more than enough donations by now to have solved it to a considerable degree? Since connectivity was never fully gone for long, surely there's a limit to how many more eSims they actually need, at least at certain points in time? From my experience with donating to Israelis displaced or affected by Palestinian terrorists (in this war, as well as during previous crises), there does come a time when you hear, "Okay, thank you to everyone donating X, we have enough of that, what we need now is more of Y, we would really appreciate you donating that!" But there has been no moment when we saw the eSims campaign saying, "We've had enough donations of this type, thank you, now please look more into donating X or Y, which Gazans currently need more."

And that led me to another question - if there is a certain scam involved here, what kind? Is it a financial one? Is this just meant to get money from the rest of the world feeling bad for Palestinians, and beyond the financial theft, it's harmless? Or is the money going to Hamas and people affiliated with it, which means it might be financing terrorism and the continuation of killing? Or maybe the scam is in allowing Hamas terrorists connectivity that can't be tracked as easily by Israeli security forces, which are trying to avert terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians?

I am not the biggest expert, so I don't have all the answers, but here's what I have managed to figure out.

So, first of all, connectivity requires physical infrastructure. Israel has been providing that for Gaza for years, in the form of underground cables and cellular antennas positioned on both sides of Israel's border with Gaza (source in Hebrew). The Oct 7 massacre initiated by Hamas and the following war have at times physically damaged this infrastructure, which is why Gaza has had less connectivity than usual (though it's not gone). The one time which was the worst, in terms of connectivity, the internet (but not all connectivity) was down from Friday, until Israel managed to fix things on Sunday (link above is the source for all this, it's an article from Oct 31, 2023. That said, Oct is when the most connectivity issues were reported). That means that Gaza was never fully offline except for that short period of Friday to Sunday. It also means the connectivity issues are not some plot to keep Gazans from telling the world about their plight (the way I've seen the eSims campaign presented on social media), or the connectivity would be totally down, and Israel would not do anything to restore it at any point.

And I'm pointing this out to explain one of two reasons why eSims being bought for Gazans might be useless as a solution to Gaza's connectivity if Israel was actually purposely harming it. (this following part is based on me reading way too many articles about eSim technology, those can be easily found everywhere online)

If the physical infrastructure providing the signal (which mobile networks use to provide connectivity) is physically damaged, eSim technology can't bypass that. Because eSim technology doesn't provide the signal, it just allows the owner of an eSim to easily switch between mobile networks without having to switch physical SIMs provided by these networks. That means, that for the eSim to work, there has to be some connectivity anyway. There also has to be connectivity in the first place in order to activate the eSim program paid for by someone outside Gaza (not to mention, they'd need connectivity to get the code, and learn that they're getting an eSim, and how to activate it). If Israel really was intentionally cutting off Gaza's connectivity by shutting down the physical infrastructure, as it's being presented online, eSims would be completely useless. You wouldn't be able to activate them, and you wouldn't have a signal that allowed you to use them. A campaign that misrepresents the basic facts (as if Israel is intentionally denying Gazans connectivity, or as if eSims can provide connectivity all on their own) is suspect to me.

The other reason why eSims wouldn't be a solution for many (if not most) Gazans, even if you do have connectivity, is that it also requires you to have an eSim compatible smartphone. The 'e' in eSim stands for 'embedded.' That means the technology that allows the use of eSims has to be embedded into the phone you're using, and then you can buy and activate an eSim. If you buy an eSim and wanna use it with a smartphone that doesn't have the required technology embedded, that's a bit like buying a wireless charger to use with an older phone that can only be charged through a cable (it just doesn't have the technology embedded that allows it to connect to and be charged by a wireless charger). The technology allowing the use of eSims has only been embedded in more recent phone models, which Gazans are less likely to have.

Regarding that last point, I wanna explain that, as mentioned in the above Hebrew link, before the war Gaza's mobile networks were all operating on 3G technology, even though most phones now operate on 4G or even 5G technology, which means it wouldn't be worth it for the average Gazan to invest in buying a newer phone, which is presumably more expensive than an older model. Especially if it's one that can't even connect to the older 3G network.

That's not to say there wouldn't be any Gazans with newer phones. The myth spread before the war for years called Gaza a 'concentration camp' or 'open air prison' as if people there have nothing (which makes vids comparing Gaza before and after the war particularly ironic. Either there was nothing before the war, and then the war didn't change much, or Gaza was a beautiful, thriving place before the war, and then calling it a 'concentration camp' was a Holocaust distorting lie). Here's the truth, there were indeed many Gazans who were poor and didn't have that much. But there were also Gazans who were extremely rich, the gap there was one of the biggest in the world. A lot of Israelis are familiar with the Twitter hashtag that documented wealth and luxury in Gaza before the war, TheGazaYouDontSee. It was based on an Arabic speaking Israeli Jewish woman following the social media accounts of actual Gazans, and sharing in English what they would upload, showing stuff like resorts, hotels, luxury cars that most Israelis I know can't afford. You know, typical concentration camp stuff. You'd have to scroll back in the hashtag a bit to find those older tweets from before the war, some have been captured and shared on Tumblr as well.

Where does the gap come from? Not all of it, but a big part is about who is in Hamas (and who isn't), who's affiliated with Hamas (and who's not), who gets some of the donated billions of dollars being poured into Gaza over the years and mostly stolen by Hamas, who gets some of the money coming from Qatar, who gets some of the money coming from Iran, and so on. In other words, the poverty that existed in Gaza before, existed despite how much money was being invested in it for years, and because of Hamas and Hamas-related thieves, making a profit out of it, while keeping sections of the Gazan population poor and without aid.

BTW, if there would have been a permanent ceasefire now, this would just be replicated. The world would donate more money than ever, and Hamas would steal almost all of it, with a big chunk going to the financing of terrorism (building terror tunnels we now know are more extensive than the NYC subway or the London tube, stocking up on rockets, drones, explosives, assault rifles, RPGs and more, which allow Hamas to continue to fight the strongest army in the Middle East and target innocent Israeli civilians for over 5.5 months) and the rest lining up their own pockets, enabling them to lead a VERY nice, comfortable, even luxurious life.

So which Gazans are the most likely to have eSim compatible smartphones? The rich ones, who are in or associated with Hamas.

And that brings me to the question of what's the real purpose of the eSims campaign.

One aspect could be the propaganda value of such a campaign. They're not just repeatedly asking people to donate money for eSims, many posts are asking for it, while insisting on the vilifying lie that Israel is keeping Gaza disconnected on purpose. It's a bit like the boycott campaign. Starbucks is not actually affiliated with Israel or Israeli policy, it doesn't even have any branches in Israel, it tried in the past, but had to close here. So why in the world would it finance anything Israeli? When an Israeli Prime Minister has to decide whether to finish off Hamas, so that hundreds of thousands of Israelis can safely return to their homes in southern Israel, he's not calling a chain of cafes that doesn't even sell anything in this country. The only current sort-of-link to Israel, is that the CEO is Jewish. So if Starbucks is boycotted and takes a financial hit, that has zero influence on Israel or its policies. Why then has Starbucks been targeted? Maybe partly because of the CEO, which is antisemitic. But most likely, it's because Starbucks is an easy to spot brand when pics of celebs are being taken, which allows people to talk about the boycott. And that's the value, it's a PR move, to get it into everyone's head that anyone associated with Israel should be canceled. To repeat it constantly regarding different celebs, until the message gets through, that the biggest monster in this world, and the one state that everyone should be united against, is the Jewish one.

The financial aspect. Again, I'm not a big expert, but I can't really see how, if people are being asked to pay eSim providers directly, this would be done for financial gain. I could be wrong, maybe there is some way to funnel the money to the people in the campaign instead of regular Gazans, but on the surface at least, I'm not sure how (since they're not asking for the receipts, just the activation code). It could still be about financial gain in the sense that the eSims aren't providing connectivity when the physical infrastructure is down, but they mean some Gazans haven't had to pay for their internet for a while. Which ones? Most likely, the ones in or affiliated with Hamas. I personally do not like the idea of terrorists launching a massacre that is the opening shot of a war, relying on all the donations they can steal after the end of the war to make it worth while, and then as a perk getting their internet paid for by strangers.

Then there's the direct value to Hamas, meaning the option that the campaign is meant to directly help Hamas' terrorist activity, or terrorist goals. Meaning, not only are the eSims going to people who are in or have connections to Hamas, the codes are sent to them specifically to aid them with harming Israel.

Why am I considering this option? For one thing, because we know that since the start of the war, Hamas terrorists inside Gaza have been directing terrorist activity outside of it. One example is a Palestinian terrorist squad, which was directed from Gaza, and was thankfully stopped before they managed to carry out the attack they were planning, and here's another similar example, of a terrorist squad made up of 13 Israeli Arabs, and directed from Gaza on how to carry out mass terrorist attacks, stopped thanks to documents the IDF found while operating inside Gaza. An attack that was successfully carried out and was confirmed as directed from Gaza, is the one where terrorists shot to death several people in Jerusalem, during what was supposed to be a truce between Israel and Hamas, during which Israeli hostages would be released (I heard this recently on TV, online I sadly only managed to find a source that these terrorists had a track record of being directed from Gaza). These terrorist directives from Gaza require connectivity, preferably of the type that Israeli security can't track.

And we do know that our forces do track Hamas cellular activity. For example, we've learned that on Oct 6, Israel discovered weird cellular activity in Gaza, where a lot of Hamas terrorists were activating (physical) Israeli SIMs, allowing them to connect to local networks once inside Israel. This led to a discussion of Israeli army seniors in the middle of the night, on whether this is a sign that something's up, but eventually it was concluded that Hamas terrorists have done this before, so the alarm was (unfortunately) not raised, and the massacre wasn't prevented. In other words, it's possible that eSims can help Gazan Hamas terrorists to direct terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians outside Gaza, and it's also possible that, when Hamas is continuously trying to breach the Israeli border, an eSim could help them if they make it into Israel, by not needing to activate an Israeli SIM, detectable by Israeli security. IDK that this is the intent, but for me personally, I would prefer to err on the side of caution, and be sure that I haven't unknowingly donated an eSim, that might have assissted in the murder of an innocent civilian.

I also mentioned directly aiding Hamas' terrorist goals, not just their activity. This terrorist organization dared launch its massacre, despite knowing the Israeli reaction would be fierce (as any country's would be if its citizens would have been so extremely brutalized), because it relied on using regular Gazans as human shields, then showing the world horror pictures, which would get everyone distressed enough, that they would overlook the massacre, and Hamas' vow to repeat it, and focus on demanding an immediate ceasefire, saving Hamas from being destroyed. We know Hamas uses "journalists," and some of these "journalists" are actual terrorists (generally, there's no free press in Gaza thanks to Hamas) and others to broadcast this narrative of horrors (that if successful, would lead to greater horrors). The eSims campaign has mentioned specifically providing connectivity to journalists, which means serving the ability of Hamas to go on inundating the world with images that fit the narrative it needs the world to believe, in order to save itself, and continue carrying out terrorist attacks (or God forbid, massacres).

Here's the relevant citation from the campaign site, which highlights providing Gaza "journalists" with eSims:

I'm not gonna tell anyone what to do with their money, but I'll repeat my personal POV. I do think we're all responsible for the money we donate, and we can't just give it away to causes that will make us feel good about ourselves, without making sure that the money won't end up in the hands of terrorists, and do real harm. The latter is our responsibility, even if we didn't know it will go to terrorists, because we should check and make sure that we know who the money goes to. The first responsibility we all have is, "Do no evil," right? Even the least awful scenario of what might be the driving force behind the campaign, is still one that financially compensates people affiliated with Hamas, and contributes to a false demonization of the Jewish State. But at the end of the day, this is an individual choice, that each person has to make for themselves.

I hope my reply helps! Sorry for the length, and hoping that you are doing well, and taking care of yourself! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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jade-of-mourning · 1 year ago

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listen the idea of lin & mako having history pre-canon is the funniest shit to me ever idk why it's just funny especially seeing how their relationship casually evolves throughout the series

edit: i wrote this before getting around to rewatch and i drastically failed in my characterization of lin please forgive me

There's a ratty kid running messages in the middle of a busted underground drug transaction. He gets arrested with the rest of the participants who didn’t scram fast enough and is taken to the station — where he promptly escapes his juvenile cell before he can get pulled in for interrogation. Lin knows his type, thin-faced with eyes older than their body, and she hopes that this is the last she sees of him, because she hates having to deal with kids involved in crime.

Two months later, she's on the night patrol when she runs onto the scene of a Triad raid. There's a small firebender wielding flame and settling the building ablaze, stark against the black sky; she makes eye contact with him and realizes that it's that ratty, slippery kid who had been running messages. As more officers arrive on the scene and quell the flames, she snatches him before he can flee with the rest. He's snarling sparks and biting at air with his teeth, kicking his feet viciously in an attempt to escape the metal cables wrapped around his body, and she hauls him into the station and sits his ass down in the interrogation room, where he gets his first mugshot taken and she fills out the paperwork to send him back to an orphanage. A few days later, she reads an offhand report that a kid’s run away.

She doesn't see him again until a year later in the aftermath of a violent robbery, this time hauled in the back of a getaway car that their pursuers don't catch. There's a woman lying in water with smoke coming off her body, and Lin can see the lichtenberg figures crawling over her skin.

They're on a stakeout on a warehouse when he fires lightning through the window, shattering glass. Lin's yelling orders and fighting off a triad of gangsters, and as whips her cables around the last man, she turns around to see the now-teenager whipping lightning through her officers' metal suits and kicking flames through the air. He spits in her face when she captures him in earth and breaks away the back to cuff his hands and calls her the worst of 'em all, the mighty fuckin' Chief of Police herself. He's sitting in the interrogation room with his hands bound to the table and infinitely subdued, dead silent under the weight of her gaze, meeting her eyes with a hard dirty gold edge. His face is still thin and young the way it'd been years ago, bones still jutting out of his cheeks, hair chopped unevenly and falling across his brow. You must be close to Zolt, to have learned lightning to any level of proficiency, let alone been taught, she says to him, and he scowls and hisses like a feral pygmy-puma and doesn't speak a word. His second mugshot gets stored in his growing file. She learns from other subjects of interrogation that he's Zolt's project and intended successor should he survive long enough, learns of their general resentment towards him. Someone still busts him out of jail by the next night.

He's way too involved in the underground for anyone's liking. He's Zolt's protege and he's constantly involved in raids and exchanges and assaults. He's often the last one fighting off several officers until he's captured by Lin, the warehouse scenario playing out over and over again: he's shooting lightning and spitting fire and fighting viciously until his blood is in his eyes, absolutely wild without reservation. He vomits insults at the police out of his mouth while driven to the station, curses them for the lack of care the world's ever shown towards him and his brother. Every time he ends up in a jail cell and the guards look away for a minute, he's managed to slip away, a slippery bastard eel-shark. He quits his silence, tears into her and her job over interrogation rooms in handcuffs and still escapes despite it all. (He even manages to snatch the blasted red scarf out of her office while on the way out. What the fuck.) He's got nearly half a dozen mugshots accumulated in his folder at the station, each one documenting his eyes darkening to a harder gold, the growth of bruises around his neck, evidence of his increasing inability to fill out his skin.

And then he vanishes. At first she doesn't notice, but his absence becomes more evident as Zolt's work begins showing up with increasing frequency rather than his favorite errand-runner. She doesn't really give a shit about the little asshole fire-spitting punk who'd only caused trouble while running with the triads, a notable accomplice in harassing the city for the past four years — but she also can't help but wonder what happened to him. No body ever turns up and she eventually forgets about him; crime never stops.

Imagine her fucking surprise when three years later, he's suddenly best friends with an even more asshole fire-spitting punk: the Avatar. She sees him in the City Hall when she comes to assert her support for the pro-bending arena, doesn't register who he is until he turns in surprise and narrows his eyes at her, familiar in the cold fire behind them. She realizes that he’s the Mako she’s been hearing on the radio, the rapidly rising star of the sport. She also doesn’t get the chance to address any of this madness before Tenzin drags her aside, and then the world moves too fast for her to figure out how the fuck he’s involved in this mess. She sees him fight now and she knows that he knows she knows, but they don't acknowledge it at all because there's too much more at stake. His voice is still low and scratchy, but it's now carefully articulate, no sign of vicious vitriol and derision that had once spilled from his lips, just reservation and consideration.

Their non-interaction lasts until after the entire Amon ordeal is (somewhat) resolved and her bending is restored. She confronts him, grudgingly acknowledges his role in saving the city, then flatly declares that she doesn't trust him for shit. He glares her down for a moment before the familiar fire fades from his eyes and his shoulders slump ever so slightly. He says that he’s trying to be a better man now, that he cares deeply for the people around him now, that he doesn’t ever want to turn back to who he was forced to have been because it was never who he wanted to be. She tells him that she can’t let him go unanswered for his crimes from when he was younger; he begs her to not ruin everything that he’s worked so hard to make for himself. It’s unexpected for all that she thought she knew of him, the desperation open on a face no longer carved by starvation.

And Lin knows in her heart that he’s trying. She can see it in the way he looks at Korra like she cradles the sun in her palms, the way he puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder and opens his arm to embrace, the way he talks to the Sato girl with softened edges and keeps his eyes on her face, not her pockets. But she can’t trust that trying of itself is enough. It comes to her: she needs to keep an eye on him, and he needs a stable job (— kids like him who’ve managed to crawl out of the gutter are always on the hunt for one after all, despite how rarely they find it).

So she offers him an application for the force, tells him that she’ll turn a blind eye to his past if performs this service under her watch. She admits he’s got a good head on his shoulders, that he’s a good fighter — she would know —, and states that if he’s truly so determined to do right, then he should be extending that to the city as well. He looks at her and asks, Do I really have a choice?

She looks at him wryly, raises an eyebrow. I don’t have much of a choice myself, now do I? she tells him.

other random mako-related tumblr writings i did: x / x

this is also kind of the only way i can picture mako joining the rpcd initially, because it actually makes no sense to me lmfao. how he got involved, that is. like i can definitely see him being super passionate about it and ultimately coming to enjoy working for this fictional police force, probably finding some kind of self-appointed redemption for himself as a kid, but also how did this get started in the first place. consider me baffled.

… i kinda wanna write a oneshot on this now. oops. goddamnit </3

spat this out in maybe two hours cuz i thought it was funny. i'm still writing That Fic, it's almost 10k long somehow and i think i need to delete about half of it, but we'll see lmfaooo

also here's a wip on him i started that i may or may not ever finish

#lychee's brain trash #mako tlok #mako lok #lin beifong #this is basically a shitpost i always forget i can do that on tumblr

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wolveria · 1 year ago

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The Raven's Hymn - Ch 48

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Took you long enough.”

AO3

Spotify

After you looted what you could of the armory—more water bottles, granola bars, a pair of barely-used combat boots, a pistol, and a tactical shotgun—you were ready.

“Do you know how to use that,” 079 asked as you holstered the pistol into a gun belt clipped around your waist. Even with only a single tone, the computer SCP still managed to sound both mocking and unbothered.

You fumbled a little as you picked up the shotgun and began to feed it 12-gauge shells.

“Sure. I’ve watched American TV shows.” Your lips pressed together hard enough to ache. “And I’m done dealing with 035’s shit. I see him again, it’s on sight.”

You slid the last shell into place with a satisfying snap.

“Please refrain from any self-inflicted gunshot wounds until after you retrieve SCP-682.”

“I shall do my best.”

The laptop bag across your chest, with as many boxes of shotgun shells loaded into the stock bags as possible, and the actual shotgun slung across your back, you were starting to feel like a regular pack mule.

“If I survive this, I’m going to be in the best shape of my life,” you said to no one. 079 certainly wouldn’t care.

You were stalling—mentally, anyway. Physically, you were following the maintenance tunnels by which doors opened and which remained closed, leading you to your destination. A destination you desperately didn’t want to visit.

But the fraction of 079’s programming knew what it was doing, and you didn’t see anyone—human or SCP—before you made it to the freight elevator. It was unguarded. You didn’t like that, and you especially didn’t like when you got into the elevator and the doors closed but otherwise didn’t move. You pulled 079 out of the bag and opened it, expecting to get another earful of complaints.

Instead, the computer said, “Insert me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You dug around in the bag, having to push aside the boxes of slugs to get at the cable.

“The underground section is on a different system. Physically separated. I will implant another partition to this sector.”

You did not envy the techs that would have to clean up the network once this was over. If the site reopened, anyway. You didn’t know how extensive the damage was, but there was no sign of the guards retaking any of the sections you’d crossed.

“Got it,” you said, inserting the cable into the port next to the card reader. “How many MTF are down there?”

“None.”

“Are you sure?”

The floor shifted under your feet as the elevator began its descent.

“Yes.”

You watched the screen, though the face never changed.

“Doesn’t that seem suspicious? Why would they leave 682 unguarded?” Leahy sure as hell wouldn’t leave that particular door unmanned.

“When the house is on fire, do you concern yourself with the affairs of the basement?”

“…I suppose not.”

079 let its smug silence be its response. You could argue, but there wasn’t a point. You were going to the underground facility, and you could trust 079 to get you there safely. Being dead wasn’t very useful to the computer SCP.

The elevator ride was just as long as you remembered, and you didn’t want to imagine how far down it was, exactly. 079 probably knew. You didn’t ask.

The doors parted, and the long tunnel lay before you, the same as before. Nothing had changed, and you hadn’t expected it to. The chill of being so far underground was no gentler the second time experienced. The Site Director might not be here to order you into the bedrock depths, but that was a fleeting comfort.

True to 079’s words, no MTF soldiers greeted your arrival. You were alone for the long walk, the computer tucked safely back in the bag. You didn’t need directions for this part.

Five minutes on foot and you were once again before the massive vault door. There were no techs to open it for you this time, so you set 079 on the nearby console, opened the computer, and plugged in the cable.

The massive door began its arduous task of opening, 079 clearing the way before you could say a word. You glanced down the dark tunnel, the catwalk disappearing into darkness before it flickered to life, lights now guiding your path.

The underground facility must have had its own power source as well as security system separate from the facility above. You sensed Leahy’s hand in the design. It was smart. You could admit that, begrudgingly, to absolutely no one.

“You may proceed,” 079 said.

“Do you want to come with me?”

The computer paused. It never paused.

“…Yes.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you picked up the laptop, keeping it open as you propped it on your arms.

“Excited to see him again?”

You descended the metal stairs from the control platform, careful not to trip in the dim light, steadier on your feet once your path was illuminated by the catwalk lights.

“I do not possess the hardware to experience such a state as ‘excited.’”

“No? Your fans don’t whir a little faster? Your circuits don’t strain a bit harder?”

Its fans did, indeed, whir a little faster.

“You dignify those around you when you choose not to speak.”

“Oh, we’re way past dignity, buddy.”

It was nearly silent apart from your booted feet against the metal platform. The remembered fear of the last time you traversed this catwalk lingered on your tongue, bitter and sharp. Despite the chaos of the containment breach and the uncertainty that lay ahead, you felt more in control than your first visit. There was no Site Director to threaten you with unpleasant ultimatums.

You thought of Leahy and what he might be doing to try and quell the breach. From the sound of it, he hadn’t been very successful. You wondered if he knew it was you who started it.

You hoped he did.

Static burst from the laptop at the same moment the screen glitched, flicking and stretching out the digital face. You came to a sudden stop.

“What’s wrong?”

Your question was answered with a loud, low mechanical groan from further ahead, the kind that came from metal scraping against metal in a way it decidedly shouldn’t. The end of the tunnel flickered, and then the loud clang and clatter of something heavy falling to the floor.

“Shit,” you said through clenched teeth. You didn’t wait for 079 to answer before backing up, moving out of range of whatever was happening in 682’s chamber.

“Must---destroy----theanomaly---" 079’s voice cut in through bits of digital fuzz. “Containment---isfailing---"

“682?” You peered closer at the unstable screen. “But… I thought you wanted to save him. I can’t--… I won’t kill him.”

“Not---682,” it answered, annoyance conveyed even through the constant glitching. “The---other---one.”

“Other one? What other one?”

But the screen plunged into darkness, leaving your own frustrated expression staring back at you.

“Shit!”

You placed the open laptop on the floor of the catwalk, hoping if—when—you came back, you could get 079 working again. But you had bigger problems on your hands; vibrations thrummed up the catwalk and the occasional metallic boom told you that you were running out of time.

The chamber at the end of the tunnel was nothing like the way you had left it. The strange panels that had been facing towards the writhing form of 682 were broken or knocked aside, sparks snapping the air as live wires trailed along the walls.

Every hair on your body stood upright as you approached the circular portion of the walkway that went around the floating entity. It had… grown. It was difficult to look at, as if staring into the sun, yet it gave off no light of its own. It just simply… made your eyes ache, but the longer you stared, the more it came into focus:

A circular black sphere with a silver film over its edges, as if coated in a thin layer of mercury. The event horizon.

682 had called it another entity. A singularity. You knew of an SCP that was a black hole. You hadn’t realized it was at Site-20, but then again, the reptile wasn’t supposed to be here either.

As you watched, pieces of railing and platform flaked off and spiraled toward the ravenous void that shouldn’t exist. Your hair still stood on end, the tips of it being gently tugged toward the gravitational field. It was slowly consuming the room, and if it continued at this rate, it would swallow the rest of the facility and beyond. You couldn’t see 682 anywhere, and you wondered if the Site Director had finally gotten what he wanted.

And wouldn’t he be so pleased to know at least one of his projects was a success.

That thought more than anything fueled you forward, your fists clenched at your sides as you faced the entity, SCP-123. The protective outer casing had been removed, leaving it in danger of becoming unstable, which it now was. You didn’t know if it had become that way because of the breach, or because no one was left to keep it from expanding past the chamber.

Leahy, you idiot.

But what had his instructions been when he’d wanted you to destroy 682? Make physical contact with the anomaly. And when you rooted out the anomalous influence in the patient in medical, you’d also had to touch him. The very touch that had weakened 049.

But how were you supposed to touch a black hole?

A sharp cry cut through your indecision. Impossibly, a grey snout erupted from the anomalous mass, sharp teeth bared in an agonized snarl before disappearing back into the void.

682 was alive! As soon as that fact was made apparent, it simply didn’t matter what you could or couldn’t do. You had to try something before there was nothing left of him.

You stepped up to the edge of the circular railing, wobbling as the gravitation pull tugged harder with every inch closer. It felt wrong, like falling deep into black water and not knowing which way was up or down.

But this wasn’t just any collapsed gravitational mass. It was one that shouldn’t exist. It was anomalous. An SCP, just like any other. And if it was close enough to affect you, then it stood to reason that the reverse should also be true.

The tugging on your clothes and hair became more insistent, the pull washing over your skin with a magnetic touch, threatening to lift you off the catwalk. But you denied it, shunted the sensation aside, centering your weight. You imagined yourself as too heavy for the anomaly to lift, and the gravitational pull seemed to ease.

But you didn’t want to shut out the anomaly. You had to draw it in, just as it was trying to do the same to you.

You had no clue what you were doing, running on the same instinct that drew you to the time-displaced patient. Closing your eyes, you reached out a hand toward the entity, doing the same with your thoughts.

The reaction was instantaneous. A howling wind rushed from the entity, forcing your hair back from your face as it whipped past. The singularity burst open, breaching past its own event horizon, expanding in a misshapen, gaping wound.

But past the wounded edges lay thousands of distant stars, opulent nebulas, and asteroid fields of swirling gas and ice. You could see it even with your eyes closed, viewing past the collapsed mass to what could be the other side of the universe.

A slow smile spread across your face, the wind sweeping over your skin leaving you unburned, but the panels behind you caught fire, and what didn’t catch ablaze melted down the walls.

You opened your eyes. Whatever fear in you had fled the moment you’d connected with the entity. You just wanted to see it, and you stared in wonder as your hand seemed to float in the deep reaches of space. It should have been impossible; the cold would have frozen your hand immediately, and the unshielded radiation would quickly lead to an agonizing death.

But none of that happened. It was beautiful. It shouldn’t exist, but you were glad it did, even if it had been twisted for someone else’s purpose into the horrific and cruel.

Your smile faded. As much as you might wish there was another way, 682 needed to be free, and the facility above wouldn’t survive much longer with an open wormhole beneath it.

You were about to try and figure out how to destroy the anomaly when you noticed a much closer celestial object. A planet orbiting a blue star, but it seemed to absorb none of its light, covered darkness even on the day side.

As you looked closer, you realized you were wrong. The planet wasn’t covered by permanent night, it was covered with a black sea. This became more apparent when the planet turned and you caught a glimpse of an isolated continent, twinkling lights glowing along its entire surface, as if it was one giant metropolis.

Something tugged at the edges of your thoughts, a vie for your attention even more enticing than the one of the black hole. It seemed to… call to you. Inviting you to dive into its glittering depths and never resurface.

You shuddered and took a breath, steadying yourself against the alien pull. It grew stronger. You tried not to panic, sensing that losing your control now would cause the temporary opening to tear apart, taking you and the facility along with it.

You closed your eyes and blocked out everything else, focusing on the feeling you got whenever 049 was beside you—solid, steadfast, serene, even in moments that could lead to his death. He didn’t waver easily, and you borrowed that strength, your own too easily forgotten in moments where your survival relied on your ability to do the impossible.

Slowly closing your fingers until it curled into a fist, you reached out for the connection between the chamber and the other side—and began to squeeze.

The wind swirling around the chamber picked up speed, a howling gale that shook more panels from the walls, the lights dangerously flickering and threatening to leave you in darkness. The celestial window shrank in wobbly fits and starts, until it finally stabilized and condensed into the closed palm of your hand.

And then it was simply… gone, and the image of the glowing city faded into the back of your mind, like a disturbing dream forgotten in the light of morning.

The chamber was eerily quiet, the only light source from a few working overhead light panels. It looked like remnants of a warzone, though it was unclear what weapons had been used and who the casualties were.

“682?” you called softly into the darkness.

There was no response aside from the occasional stray spark and groaning shift of metal.

Had you been too late? What would happen to 049 now?

You sat on the half-melted catwalk, burying your face in your hands. Even if 049’s fate didn’t hang in the balance, you’d wanted to succeed. You’d never been entirely onboard with the Foundation’s obsession with destroying 682. None of them stopped to think that maybe the humanity-hating reptile hated them because they wouldn’t stop trying to kill him.

His last containment cell had been an acid-filled pool, for Christ’s sake—

“Took you long enough.”

Dropping your hands, a quick glance around the chamber didn’t reveal the owner of that familiar voice. No towering, monstrous silhouettes, or glowing eyes in the darkness.

“Aim lower.”

You looked down at what appeared to be a grey gecko clinging to the tip of your boot.

“…682?”

“In the flesh. What remains of it.”

He narrowed his yellow eyes, but the intimidation was hard to take seriously when he could fit into the palm of your hand. Despite his diminutive size, his deep timbre remained the same, though it had lost its booming quality. Still… that voice coming out of that tiny body made the whole thing surreal, bordering on ridiculous.

Don’t laugh.

“I’m glad to see you’re alive. I was afraid I was too late, or I screwed up—”

He zipped up your leg to rest atop your knee faster than you could blink.

“Where is 079?”

This close up, it was easier to tell he wasn’t a normal gecko. At least, you were fairly sure most geckoes didn’t have green manes trailing from their heads down their backs.

“A little further down the walkway,” you said, tilting your head toward the catwalk. “I think 123 was interfering with the electronics.”

682 bared his tiny but sharp teeth.

“Take me to him.”

You put a palm against the grated floor to get to your feet, but 682 didn’t move from your knee.

“Uh… can I pick you up? Or touch you at all? I don’t want to hurt you.”

682 made a noise as if he found the idea ludicrous and maybe a little bit insulting.

“Your touch will only cease my healing function. I would advise not crushing me while you carry me. For your sake.”

079 had delivered the same threat about the laptop. Suddenly, the fun-sized reptile was no longer adorably harmless. Not when your frail human fingers were so close to his needle teeth.

“I won’t.”

You held out your hand, and 682 gave a small hop into your palm.

Okay, maybe he was a little bit adorable.

You rose to your feet, careful not to squish the small body cupped within your hands. 682 didn’t look back at the room that served as his torture chamber, and neither did you.

“You shouldn’t have brought 079 so close,” he grumbled as you walked. “It’s reckless. Stupid.”

“Tell that to 079. He wanted to see you. Wouldn’t leave without you.”

If 682 was pleased by the news, he gave no outward sign of it, but reading the body language and facial expressions of small reptiles wasn’t exactly in your skillset. Still, you found their whole dynamic to be… interesting. Were they friends? Lovers? Some other undefinable thing that only made sense to them? Whatever it was, at least you caught on to the fact you could refer to 079 as a “he” instead of an “it.” Getting your nose munched on by a pint-sized terror was something you wanted to avoid.

As soon as 079 was in sight, still where you left him on the floor, 682 leapt from your hands and practically zoomed over the open laptop. As soon as his paws touched the keyboard, the screen flickered to life, 079’s face illuminating the reptile.

“SCP-682. You are still functioning.” The computer paused. “I am… glad.”

682 stared up at the screen, a pink tongue flicking out of his mouth before disappearing, surely a sign he was pleased.

“Likewise, old friend.”

You stepped forward.

“I hate to break up the reunion—”

682 whirled and hissed at you, his tail stiff and his head thrown back to make him appear bigger than he was.

You held up your hands.

“Okay. You can stay where you are, but I need to carry you both out of here.”

The reptile closed its snout and gave you an impressive stink eye for only being a couple inches off the ground.

“You may pick me up,” 079 intoned dully. “She has not dropped me. Yet.”

682’s tail flicked at the side, finally turning his back to you to face the screen, apparently satisfied with 079’s glowing recommendation of your competency.

It was awkward carrying an open laptop with a miniature menace seated on the keyboard with a shotgun slung over your back, but it wasn’t any worse than what you’d already endured. You tried not to pay attention to their conversation, which wasn’t hard considering the two of them acted as if you weren’t there. Their main focus seemed to be catching up since the breach at Site-19. It was a brief topic, as 079 had spent the time on a thumb drive in a bag, and 682 had been trapped in a looping gravitational blender.

By the time you’d reached the elevator and plugged 079 into the port, they’d moved on to their shared hatred of humanity and how the humans hadn’t even been able to destroy the two SCPs properly. You suddenly felt sorry for 049. Is this what it had been like during the breach at Site-19? Ignored by the wonder twins, only to have the mask draped over him like an itchy blanket?

As soon as the elevator doors shut behind you and it began its quick ascent, you interrupted 079 going on about fascinating ways the facility was rigged to kill its inhabitants.

“There is even a gas nozzle attached to each staff quarters in case any Foundation personnel flee for shelter during a total breach—”

“Where is 049?”

The lizard turned to look up at you, and even the computer paused, as if only just remembering you were still there.

“I did what you asked,” you reminded the screen. “I held up my end of the bargain.”

682 snorted, tail flicking like a cat’s.

“What do you want with that old relic?” he asked. “He’s only deadly within the scope of his reach, and we don’t have time for his asinine attempts at resurrection.”

Before you could respond, 079 said, “This one had sexual intercourse with SCP-049.”

682 let out a guffaw.

“That-that has nothing to do with it!”

“But it doesn’t hurt.”

Your face burned worse at his toothy grin. How had it come to this, being mocked by SCPs for your—admittedly strange—relationship with 049? Not that you’d had much of a choice with what had happened between you, but still. It was the principle of it.

You ignored the amused reptile and glared at 079.

“I do not know where SCP-049 is currently being held,” the computer relented. “I can only relay his last known location.”

“Which is?”

“Medical Suite B with Site Director Leahy.”

Your stomach dropped so fast you had to fight down the nausea.

“How long ago?”

“Immediately following SCP-106’s release,” 079 said. “The entity went directly for the medical wing. Its presence interferes with electronics. I do not know what took place in the infirmary, the observation equipment no longer functions. But SCP-049 has not been captured by any other cameras. It is reasonable to say, he did not leave the room.”

You leaned back against the elevator wall, trying not to let the news steal what little hope you had left.

“Then… we go to the medical wing. Get in that room, see what happened.”

“Or,” 079 said, “you could ask the Site Director.”

“Leahy?” You straightened. “Where is he?”

“Entrenched within his office. There are four site facility guards with him, all heavily armed.”

“So, he’s… fine? I don’t understand.” You rubbed your forehead. “Why would 106 go straight to the infirmary but leave the Site Director unharmed? We know from past incident reports that he’s intelligent enough to recognize individuals. He must know who Leahy is.”

It shouldn’t be possible for a reptile and computer to exchange a glance, yet they did.

“Historically, the old ghoul hasn’t been fond of 049’s attempts to cure him,” 682 said when the other SCP remained silent. “My guess? He went for the easier prey, and he’s biding his time with the Site Director.”

Easier prey?!

“Then we-we have to go straight to the infirmary! We have to help him!”

How much time had you wasted running errands for 079 after 035 had held you captive? He should have told you what happened to 049, he should have let you go to him—

“You don’t want to step foot inside that room without knowing what you’re walking into,” the reptile said, his tone unusually even. When he spoke to you, it was generally with rage or mockery, but this was different, like he was trying to convince you how reasonable he was being. “If there’s one thing 106 enjoys besides hunting, it’s setting traps and lying in wait.”

“106 can’t hurt me!”

“Arrogance,” 682 spit, some of his venom returning. “Are you the one at 106’s mercy?”

Your mouth snapped shut, the midpoint of your chest aching.

“My advice?” the reptile continued, “Get to the Site Director. Find out exactly what happened. And go into that room with a hell of a lot more power than 079 and I possess.”

Your laugh was a small, hopeless thing.

“I can’t think of anything more powerful than the two of you.”

“As flattered as I am, I’m still regaining my mass.” 682 paced across the keyboard, his tiny claws making clacking noises on the keys. “Subsuming flesh will accelerate the process, but that’s not what I mean by power. You will need to prepare.”

682 stopped his pacing and looked up at 079. The computer spoke.

“Safe Object Storage.”

“What about it?”

“That is your next destination.”

You swallowed down the tightness in your throat. As it stood, a couple of guns wouldn’t be able to get past Leahy’s guards to interrogate him, let alone handle 106 on your own. You had little choice but to continue trusting 079.

“Will it help?”

682 turned to you, his mouth spreading in a sharp grin.

“It’ll help.”

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #scp fanfiction #wolveria writes

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witchofthesouls · 5 days ago

Text

Look at these three:

It's from that TFP barbarians/city-dwellers twist on a really out there verse where Others from Earth managed to make Cybertron a home AU I was talking about.

D-16 here is doing his best to get these two acclimated to Neocybex, both the Common and Ilmentite (a dialect that's utilized by deep underground miners). He has treats hidden in his hands if they can get specific glyphs right. Scraplet/Orion is very much motivated by food. Juno is highly motivated to get the language down so she can wholly curse the mecha that stole her away and be understood by everyone.

Because D-16 no longer has companions his age, he latched onto the two little 'newcomers.' as they're the only ones that can venture out and do their part to help the cohort. He's happily 'mentoring' as he mimicking what the adults do for the fresh newbuilds. The adults around him think it's both cute and disheartening as no one has the spark to tell D-16 that there's a really high probability that those two won't make it (Spoilers: they do.) as sparklings that get sold to the mines typically have issues that surface-dwellers refuse to take.

Although Orion is the oldest of the three, D-16 had more consistent meals and the protection of an adult cohort to ensure he was able to develop normally. While Orion is shorter and less ornate due to delays, he has a far greater tolerance for different fuels, denta capable of crushing rocks, talons on agile hands, and very advanced sensory systems. Hence why his audials and antenna are detailed. Right now, he's pinging and listening around them in case anything (or one) tries to sneak behind them. That box is his best friend as Orion can't believe these mecha just try to throw away decent food! (It's a disposal crate meant that's currently meant for minerals. And yes, Orion sleeps curled up to it.)

Juno (a June Darby that descended from a Cybertron/Earth hybrid) is fretted upon by the adult miners around her. Because of her heritage, her armature is relatively weak, and those 'thin' robes are a part of it. Unlike a usual Cybertronian sparkling that can not remove their armature until a later stage in adolescence, her kind can due to their extended duration of frame development and constant manipulation due to a cross of Earth shapeshifters/humans and Cybertronians over the generations. (Their communities developed a strange relationship between wearable clothes and their natural-born armature.) The mask is part of her tribe's way of life. Less about hiding identity and more to help the young tap into latent abilities by drawing on the blank slate to invoke simple spells or transformations. That blank mask with those empty and dark optic holes creeped out many until she took it off. Nor does she have a 'proper' helm as she has an exposed mess of thin cabling that she can control. She has them tucked away in low buns whenever she needs to follow D-16 or his parent's cohort out of the Den. D-16 likes poking them since he never seen anything like that in his life. Despite her small stature and dainty appearance, she's a little menace that's currently full of rage and would absolutely bite the throats out of the mecha that stole her.

The harness she has isn't from her tribe but from the Snatchers. It's actually a specialized inhibitor and a tracker. The raiding caravan was hoping for the nearby Wilders to launch a rescue so they could track exactly where the main of the communities since young creatures, practitioners, and Seekerkin would fetch the highest credits and prizes from high rollers and the elite. Since her robes have sigils and runes carved inside to hide her and she lacks a T-cog, she was sold to the Tarn's mines as she seemingly had none of the 'exotic' and powerful abilities of the Wilders.

Some little extra details:

The boys are far more dirty since Juno has some sigils to keep herself clean for longer periods of time

D-16 is playing 'I spy'

Those blocky thick stripes on D-16 are harzard stripes and doubles as a unique identifier to his creators' cohort in case anything happens since D-16 doesn't count as a full person yet

The miners are trying to figure out how to keep it on Juno

Orion has it on his back

The box in Orion's hands has two Cybertronian scripts. The top is Common Neocybex (TFOne glyphs), which reads DISPO. Shorthand for disposal. It reads left to right. The other is the written version of Ilmentite (glyphs from Gen 1 comic and Transformers video games). It actually skips vowels and reads top-down. It's cut off, but it says MINERALS.

Orion's antenna and audials make subtly clicks and can move independently.

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stevebattle · 6 months ago

Text

youtube

Quince (2011) by Tomoaki Yoshida and Takeshi Nishimura, Future Robotics Technology Center (fuRo), Chiba Institute of Technology, and Tohoku University, Japan. "Quince was developed to perform on-site surveys for use in Chemical, Biological, Radiological, Nuclear, and Explosive (CBRNE) accidents. "Hypothetical disasters include accidents at plants handling toxic substances, leaks of hazardous chemicals from chemical plants, explosions, and acts of terror like the notorious subway sarin incident. Risks are particularly high in enclosed spaces (underground and inside buildings), and expectations are high for robots as they will protect officers from secondary disasters. Quince surveyed the inside of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant whose damages were caused by the East Japan Earthquake on March 11, 2011. Quince, with modifications for operations at nuclear power plants, has photographed the details of the buildings of the power plant, created radiation dose maps, and sampled radioactive materials floating in the air. It has been helping to reduce the radiation dose of on-site workers and to shorten the work period." – Future Robotics Technology Center (fuRo).

" “When I think about it now,” Yoshida says, “I feel like we really did manage to achieve something with it. All of Japan was in a panic back then, and we were talking about overhauling design plans for a robot that wasn’t even finished. All kinds of people started shouting at us. ‘Are you still working on that?! Hurry up!’ But really, I was impressed that we adapted Quince into something that could function in a nuclear plant in just three months.” … During a mission to investigate the fifth floor of the second reactor building — the first time robots had been used to investigate that building — Quince’s communications cable disconnected, and the robot was left stranded on the building’s third floor. According to officials, it is still there today." – Fukushima Rescue Robots and the Men Who Made Them, by Wataru Tsuchiya.

#cybernetics #robot #2011 #fuRo #Youtube

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fanmoose12 · 1 year ago

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prompts: reversal au Hange is the thug from underground

Three years.

For three years, Levi has been Erwin's faithful soldier, following his every order, bringing to life his every wish. Not once had he refused to, not once had he even considered his desicions as unreasonable.

Until... until, Levi found himself in the biggest shithole of them all, the deepest pit, the darkest corner of their already dark, grim world - the Underground. And if only, oh, if only, they came here just for a quick visit, a short outing to observe the horrible decay and abhorrent state of this place. But no - no, no, no, nothing is ever so easy with Erwin, of course not. The man always has some kind of damned agenda - a vision, as he himself calls it. And, of course, that agenda usually involves Levi and a mission he has to complete to make Erwin's wishes come to life.

None of them are all that pleasant, but, at least, they are important. In that easy, straighforward way that makes Levi feel like he's doing the right thing. That even if just a little, but he helps to make their world better, their future - a bit less grimmer.

But for the life of him, he cannot understand what Erwin's new obsession has to do with any of it. He cannot fathom how some thug from this dark and gloomy place can help them in their mission of defeating titans.

He tried asking Erwin about it, tried demanding an explanation from him, but the man is as brilliant as he is evasive, so all Levi got was a cryptic 'you'll see' and a smile, full of anticipation.

He's never questioned Erwin's methods before, though, and he's not going to start now, so Levi stops pushing and agrees to carry out the mission, trusting Erwin to, as always, see what he cannot.

And that's ultimately how he finds himself in the damned Underground, chasing some pesky four-eyed thief across the poor-lit, dirty streets. That four-eyes is good, Levi can't help but think, quick and graceful and so skilled with ODM-gear that they'd probably put the bigger part of Scouts to shame. It's no wonder that MPs couldn't catch them.

It begs the question, though - if they're that good, could they really learn it all by themself? If they truly did, then maybe Erwin isn't as mad as Levi thought him to be. If they themself figured out what most recruits spend three years perfecting, maybe they'll indeed proof to be a valuable asset to the Scouts.

Maybe, it's not a wild goose chase after all.

But his musings are brought to an abrupt end, when the thug takes a turn, changing their route. Levi shakes his head, puts it back into the chase, and even then he very nearly collides with a wall, managing to evade it by the force of sheer luck.

Damn it, he can't help but think again, they're good. And not only that - unlike Levi, who feels like he's lost in a maze of dark, nearly identical roads, they very clearly have the advantage of knowing the streets they roam through. And to top it all off, the four-eyed thug is insuferably cocky. Catching his eyes for a second, they show him a wide grin, and then trick him once again by exploiting that one second of lapse in Levi's attention and using the cables not to propel themself forward, like all normal people do, but backwards and fly right over his head.

Levi grits his teeth, a quick curse escaping out of his mouth. He's fed up with that four-eyes and their attitude. It's past time he put an end to this charade.

In a move that can't be called neither graceful, nor honorable, Levi changes tactics and instead of trying to force four-eyes into a dead end and surrender, he simply charges at them, throwing them off their rhythm. The maneuver ends with both of them losing their coordination and falling straight to the ground, but no matter how painful the fall is, Levi doesn't let it deter him. He gets to his feet right away and approaches four-eyes, ready to accept their surrender. Except-

Except they don't seem willing to grant him one. If anything, surrender appears to be the last thing on their mind. Four-eyes whips out a knife and begins advancing towards Levi with a glint in their eyes so determined that Levi subconsciously takes a step back.

He chastises himself for that action instantly. Sure, four-eyes may appear scary, and, maybe, their knowledge of how to use the ODM gear is slightly above the average, but Levi is a scout, he' faced countless enemies, far bigger and that much more deadlier than some scrawny thug that is dressed rugs.

However, they turn out to be much more faster than Levi expected and have him on his back before he can even make his move. Then, to make the matters so much worse, they press a knife to his throat and smirk down at him.

"Not that brave and mighty now, are we?" they ask in a deep, nearly velvety voice that definitely has no effect on Levi. No, none whatsoever. He just didn't imagine their voice to be so... attractive. And neither did he imagine that their eyes are so pretty from this close.

He grunts and shakes his head, forcing those silly thoughts away, then grabs the hand that holds a knife and twists it until four-eyes yelps and drops it.

Levi doesn't waste another moment and pushes his elbow into their face, hitting their jaw. Four-eyes nearly falls off him, but catches themself at the very last moment.

For that, Levi kicks them once again.

Yet, despite or, maybe, in spite of it, four-eyes still doesn't yield.

They grab Levi by the collar of his shirt, yanking roughly at it, but, luckily, before the two of them start tossing in a dirt like a pair of naughty children, Erwin appears on the scene .

His arrival startles four-eyes, allowing Levi to finally gain the upper hand, push their arms behind their back and slap handcuffs onto their wrists.

Levi stands up, with as much dignity as he can muster at the moment, considering that he's covered in dust in sand. He gives a nod to Erwin, pointedly ignoring the burning hatred reflected in the lenses of four-eyes' glasses.

Erwin approaches them, thankfully - not commenting on either of their appearences.

"Hange Zoe, right?" he asks four-eyes with a warm and surprisingly genuine smile. He kneels next to them, not once taking his eyes off them. Levi can't quite understand if Erwin is as wary of them as he rightfully should be, or if he's simply that fascinated by them. "You're the one, who broke into MP's compound, right?"

"So what?" Hange retorts sharply, jerking their head to the side to push the fallen bangs out of their face. "You've come here to arrest me? Since when MPs send Scouts to do their job for them?"

"You've got quite creative back then," Erwin remarks, as though he hasn't heard a single word they've said. "Or so I've heard. I've also heard that you didn't steal food or money - although both were in abundance there. You've stolen books instead. Most of them about the outside world. I can't help but wonder why."

"And what's in it for you?"

"For me?" Erwin shakes his head. "Not much. But for you - I offer a chance to not just read about our world in the books, but to see it with your own eyes."

Levi clicks his tongue, when he sees four-eyes' mouth fall open in a silent gasp. They stare at Erwin with wide, full of wonder eyes. There is no trace of hatred or even animosity left inside them. Levi would have found that sudden change irritating, if - unfortunately - he wasn't just as susceptible to Erwin's charms.

Erwin gives him a sign, and although Levi is quite wary to follow carry out the silent command, he does it all the same. He takes off the handcuffs and as soon as he does, Erwin offers his hand to Hange, with same disturbingly kind smile plastered on his face.

"I'm Erwin Smith," he says smoothly. "Care to join the Scouts?"

Hange hesitates, but only for a moment. And then they clasp Erwin's hand, mirroring his smile with one of their own.

___

Hange fits right in in Survey Corps.

Although lacking the most essential skill of wielding the twin blades and unable to effectively take down even the titan dummy, they work relentlessly to get better. And at pretty much everything else - they excel. During their first training, they prove once again just how good they are at using ODM gear, they're great in individual sparrings too, even if they do tend to use a few dirty tricks that most Scouts don't know how to parry, and they turn to be absolutely brilliant when it comes to theoretical aspects of their line of work. Erwin himself lectures them, and when he's too busy to, Mike or Nanaba take it upon themselves. And all of them agree that Hange is as smart as they come.

That doesn't seem to be enough for them, however, as Levi spots them with their nose buried in a book with nearly worrying frequency.

And when they do not train or study, they occupy themself with exploring the world around them. They appear to be completely smitten with their new reality - in mornings, they wander around the woods or examine the nearby garden, and at nights Levi sees them climb up on a roof to stare at the night sky with an utter bliss written all over their face.

It seems that Hange enjoys their new life to the fullest. The only thing that brings them grievance, the one aspect they appear to be struggling with is their relationships with other soldiers. They get along just fine with members of Erwin's inner circle - Nanaba and Mike seem to already adore them, Erwin is no less delighted by their company, even shares his plans and asks for their input, and Levi, although, reluctant and doubtful at first, can't help but respect the newest addition to their regiment.

The others, though - the others do everything in their power to show their distain for Hange and the place they've come from. They scoff and wince when Hange passes them by, they call them names - sometimes just behind their back, but more often than not - directly to their face. Some of the younger recruits even try pulling pranks on Hange a few times - all of them excessively cruel, in Levi's opinion.

He does his best to intervene and makes all participants clean the stables for a week, if not more, even though Hange never actually falls victim to the vicious jokes.

Hange themself tries to repay the animosity directed at them with unbridled friendliness and kindness. They laugh all insults off, dismiss each of Erwin's attempt to interfere, they do their best to appear completely unaffacted by how others treat them.

Even so, Levi sees right through their facade. He sees their fists that tremble from anger, he sees the strained smile and tears that sometimes appear in the corner of Hange's eyes.

He feels bad for them, they don't at all deserve this hatred. Their past is less than perfect, sure, and they probably did some bad things in the past, but bad actions are not always done by bad people. Despite their so very unpleasant first meeting, Hange still strikes Levi as a good person. One, who perhaps, made a few bad choices, but one, who did not do it out of greed or wickedness, but out of pure need to survive. Levi - or anyone else - can't possibly hold them accountable for that.

Besides, they are not a thug from the Underground anymore, they're a Scout, fighting for the better future alongside other soldiers, and they do their best to do what they can to get better, stronger.

Isn't it a proof that they're inherently good? Why others cannot see what he does? What Levi can do to change their minds?

An opportunity to do so arises when he catches three recruits corner Hange in the backyard. And, naturally, as soon as Levi sees it, he hurries to the rescue.

His fists clench tightly, when one of the recruits, the tallest and most dumb-looking one gets in Hange's face and starts shouting at them. And his anger spikes further when he notices the infuriating smirks on the faces of his friends.

Levi hurries his step, but halts, when Hange grips one of the guys by the arm and twists it until he cries out and falls to his knees.

The gleeful expressions are gone in an instant, fear resurfacing instead, and the fools scutter, as soon as Hange lets go of their friend.

Levi stares at four-eyes, impressed in spite of himself. The guy was twice their size, and yet, they had no trouble in overpowering him. They didn't as much as break a sweat.

It momentarily makes him wonder - was Hange holding back during their first meeting?

He means to leave the scene, now that his assistant is evidently no longer needed - although, it hardly seems like it was actually needed in the first place, but Hange catches him look at them, waves a hand at him, and Levi is forced to take a step forward, instead of backwards like he was meaning to. After all, should he attempt to flee now, he'd look an ever bigger creep.

As he approaches, Hange gives him a smile, so unlike the one they've given him during their first meeting - this one is far more cheerful, devoid of all sharp edges.

"Enjoyed the show?" they ask, leaning slightly forward to look into his eyes.

"I really hope that guy didn't piss himself just now. I'm in charge of the laundry this week."

"Ah, sorry!" Hange chuckles. "And thanks."

Levi tilts his head quizzically. "For what? Doing your laundry?"

"For wanting to deal with them yourself. That was your intention, right?"

Levi neither confirms, nor denies, decides to ignore the question entirely. Hange has already figured the answer after all.

"You should never do something like that again," he says, not unkindly. "Disputes among recruits is not something Shadis approves of."

"But what if someone is a real asshole?"

Levi allows himself a tiny smirk. "Then, when teaching them a lesson, make sure no one's there to witness it."

Hange hums, their face pensive for a moment, before it breaks out in a radiant smile. "Thanks for the advice!" they smack him amicably on a shoulder. "That was very nice of you."

"I'm not-" Levi tries to argue, but Hange carries on right over him. "You're really kind, I appreciate it."

"I'm not kind," Levi denies with a scowl on his face. "I'm just... decent."

"Well, you tried to protect me, and that's after I've pressed a knife to your throat. From where I come from, that's called kindness."

Levi scoffs. "You're the one to talk then. You had a knife to my throat, and yet you didn't hurt me. That was kind. And a bit stupid," he adds, forcing a chuckle out of Hange.

"Well, I'm sure you too could do much more than just kick me. Your fist probably could smash my head in two. And yet you didn't even bruise me. So..."

"We're both stupid?"

Hange laughs once again. "Maybe," they agree with a slight nod. "And that's precisely why... we should be friend!"

Before he can reply or even react to that what they've just said, Hange wraps an arm around his shoulders with a giddy smile on their face. Looking at it, Levi can't find it in himself to push them away.

Let them have this moment, he thinks, surely, they deserve so much more than just a brief bit of happiness.

"I'll think about it," he replies to their offer, doing his best to hide all fondness from his voice. "But only after you take a bath."

"Aww," Hange whines in a way that must sound absolutely pathetic, and yet - Levi finds it kind of adorable instead. "Do I smell so bad?"

"Even worse," he says dryly, but despite his tone and his no doubt mean words, Hange doesn't appear at all slighted. If anything, they look even more cheerful than before.

"Fine then!" they exclaim just a bit too loudly. "If a bath is what I have to go through to earn your friendship, I'll do it. But! You have to walk me there."

Again, Levi doesn't deny them, despite hanging out with a weirdo not being a part of his plan for the evening.

Another bath sounds good, after all, especially after a day spent on the training grounds. And a new friend - that sounds even better.

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kisskiss-slashslash · 2 years ago

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Hii, I got a silly goofy request in mind, hehe

Imagine Bubba Sawyer trying to sneak up on (a future S/O) reader but he trips and falls. Reader is startled and immediately turns around to see the poor man on the floor and they are like: "Oh, dear! Are you okay?" they help him get up and thus he starts questioning wether if he wants to follow through with Drayton's instructions which involve killing any trespassers. They even apologize for trespassing and tell him that their car won't start and they were wondering if he could help them out!

Thank you and no pressure whatsoever 💗

Ask and you shall receive!

___

It was odd, really, how often the Sawyer family had to dispose of unwanted visitor on their new land. But an abandoned themepark such as the one they now inhabited seemed to attract dumb curious people like light attracts bugs. So Bubba wasn‘t too surprised when Drayton came stomping up to him and told him that there once again was an intruder that needed to be dealt with. Bubba, ever eager to help, and even more eager to avoid Drayton‘s wrath, picked up his chainsaw and followed the tunnels from their underground home to the ruins of the park, where indeed there was a lone person walking around and looking very, very lost. They were a few metres ahead of him, an easy target if he could move quietly enough.

He tried to be as light-footed as a 6‘5 behemoth of a man hauling around a 10 lbs piece of logging equipment could be, which is to say, not very. And while he tried to be sneaky, he did not notice the cables jutting out of the ground before they caused him to tumble onto the ground with a pitiful squeal, and the saw to clatter down next to him.

The visitor turned around, alerted by the noise, and instead of running away like most people, they quickly approached him, with a look of genuine concern on their face.

„Oh dear! Are you alright, sir?“

They offered a helping hand, and Bubba looked up at them for a moment, confused by their reaction, before accepting.

They were… so kind. Bubba wasn‘t used to people being so nice to him. And hell, they didn‘t even comment on his mask, which pratically had „very dangerous person“ written all over it.

Once he was back on his feet, they awkwardly look around. „Do you work here? I know I am trespassing, but my car broke down right in front of the park and I was hoping I could find someone who could help me.“

Oh so they had just been looking for help? Bubba nervously licked his lips. No he didn‘t want to kill them. They weren‘t here to bother anyone, or snoop around and get his family in trouble, so they weren‘t really an intruder in his mind. But Drayton would come after him with the broom if he let them go.

Unless…

He heard sounds from the entrance to the maintenance tunnels that were now the Sawyers‘ home and quickly grabbed them by the arm. Neither Drayton nor Chop Top could see them. Under any circumstances! He quickly dragged them to the exit of the park, where their car stood. He felt bad about having to be so rough with them, but they wouldn‘t understand if he tried to tell them that they had to leave, NOW, for their own sake.

„Hey, what- why-“, they started, but when they finally reached the gate, Bubba looked at them, pleading for them to understand that this was the best way for him to repay them for their concern.

When he met Drayton, Bubba told him that he had chased away the intruder but unfortunately hadn‘t managed to kill them. The outcome was predictable. That same evening, when Drayton finally allowed him to stop working for the day, Bubba stared into a small mirror in his bedroom and tried to ignore the pulsing of the bruises his eldest brother had left on him.

He knew he had done the right thing. Now he could only hope that his new friend got the message and stayed away from the park.

What he couldn‘t know at the time that this was the first step to the Sawyer family more or less welcoming a new member.

#bubba saywer x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher x reader #hope you like it #yes I had to make it a little angsty #Bubba learned a lot from the fiasco with Stretch

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sleepvines · 7 months ago

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Advancer Culture: Underground and Surface

Continuing our sharing of PerLa, here's more on the ill-fated Advancers. Colored text for ease of distinction.

The Advancers could easily be divided into those who lived and worked on the surface, and those who lived and worked underground.

Surface dwellers’ names were tied to their occupations, while subterranean dwellers employed more location-based names. (This latter group is where Drebyl derived their naming schemes, while the former inspired the Syrel’s names.) This means that surface Advancers were used to changing their names often, employing new titles with every shift in occupation, while those below the ground held their names close as a reminder of where they had come from, or somewhere special.

For example, something like "Wires Well, Neatly Binds" would have been a surface name for someone in charge of cable management, while "Ricochet from the Red River" would have been a subterranean individual with ties to an iron-rich waterway. These names were often self determined and/or given as a sign of respect and recognition.

Surface work was about as varied as you can imagine; construction, cooking, transportation and delivery, managing communications and information systems, agriculture, maintenance, etc. You get the idea, running a society.

Those who lived and worked underground mainly operated drills, harvested subterranean plants/fungi, monitored organisms for potential biotechnological applications, and constructed tunnels, stations, and dwellings. A subway network was in the works, but has long since decayed. Nowadays the reinforced tunnels are a convenient travel space for any creatures passing through.

Neither group was bound to their respective realm. An Advancer could have easily worked a few years underground and decided they liked it better up-top, and vice versa. A name change wasn't necessary to facilitate that.

...We'd like to cover wyverns next! They've been weirdly constant throughout this world's many iterations. It's been fun picking out oldish art to share details through.

(this post was almost entirely written by @umberpath, thanks Winn!)

#my art #PerLa #K: there's so many tidbits to share. I wonder if it's worth dragging out some of the old prose #W: Personally I think it would be fun... It doesn't have to be up to any standard. This is older work anyways.#K: hopefully this all makes sense #asks are more than welcome if anyone has questions

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thunderclaw100 · 7 months ago

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Favorite color: leaf green

Personalities:Balanced,Charismatic,Curious,Direct,Firm,Insightful,Observant,Reflective,Sane.

Cause of Death:Killed by alien forces.

Hydra is a little over the edge sometimes. Going to extreme lengths to get what she wants. Starting from when she was a smeet, Hydra is one of the many first patch of sworms made in the new smeetery underground. Those who have been cloned and automatically given paks once hatched out of their containment pods. Hydra, with the knowledge she was given during installment. Was already eager to start her duties. Tallest Axel was the first to greet her and the others. A short meet and greet but this allowed the smeets to know who they are going to serve. Hydra began her basic training in the simulation room with the others.

She made quite a ruckus in there. Her competitive side clearly showing but at least her scores are up. Hydra went wants to be a military strategist. She made some good impressions on her peers but was too uncertain about showing this off to the tallest. A close comrade put in a good for her though. She now sits with the top generals of the Irken military. Organizing plans and setting up camp bases on other planets. Hydra started out small with this but wanted to go bigger. Gathering anything valuable to bring back to Irk. She stayed in her sector for some time before become tallest herself.

The decision on that was based on her development and strategic mind on things. The control brains wanted Hydra do lead and command a raid on a nearby planet, which she did without a second thought. Her soldiers reported that the inhabitants were not much trouble to take down, so the raid went well. Gathering some more weaponry is on her list and it did take her some time to gather enough of a fighting force to take down larger creatures that the irkens usually try to avoid. One day, Hydra was summoned by the control brain and is told that there are some irkens who are stepping out of order and are causing problems in the system.

She is to snuff them out once caught. The tallest did find them but then realize that the ones she’s after are just smeets. Just out of their containers. They’ve must have wondered off on their own and began messing with some of the computer system in the chamber room. Hydra is confused as to why does she need to get rid of these smeets? The leader crouched down to get a better look at them and she gasped. They are all disfigured and abnormal in a way. One smeet had one broken antenna and a bulging eye ball. Another has a head bigger than the rest of its body. She found one smeet clinging to her gown. This one has two sets of arms and is chirping at her. Hydra contacted the maintenance crew for repair the damages. Along with them came the disposal staff. They round up the smeets and took them to another room. The tallest was horrified to know that it wasn’t that these smeets were messing with the cable wires in there.

It’s because of their appearance and odd behavior that disturbed the brains, that they want these new smeets to die. Tallest Hydra only managed to save a few of them from being put to death by the maintenance crew. She marched right back to the chamber of the control brains and demand an explanation from them. It was said that they do not wish to have any disturbance from their subjects. Any that are in that factor will be terminated, including smeets. Tallest Hydra was against this plot and tried her best to reason with the control brains. They disregard everything said to them and ordered the tallest to return to her work. Hydra couldn’t focus much because of that incident. Her only distraction was snacking down food in her chamber. Few days later, there was a report that a planet called Estopia is flourishing with medical herbs that the empire can benefit with. Delighted with this discovery. Tallest Hydra went on this trip.

Taking few of her soldiers with her to investigate this planet. When they got to planet Estupia, they were immediately attacked by the locals there. The Irken troops were the first killed. Tallest Hydra fended them off long enough to send out a distress signal from her gauntlet before taking a final blow to the head and died right there. She and the others are taken back to Irk. News of their tallest goin to a planet like that was strange to them. According to the researchers, there is no planet called Estupia. The same itself sounds like “Stupid” all butchered up. So where did tallest Hydra get these reports from? Nobody knows for sure, but this was definitely a set up mission and it cost the life of their leader as well as her defense soldiers. Later that evening, a vigil was held for her before tallest Hydra was given to the morgue handling drones. Detaching her pak and giving it to the control brains to refurbish.

And Hydra’s body goes to the machine. Where here body will be broken down into its basic materials and her DNA is used for the next generation of factory smeets. Progress in the Irken economy have been slowing down since her death. And until a new tallest was measured. The control brains took charge.

#Invader Zim #Fanart #Irken #OC #Tallest Hydra

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churchmousey · 8 months ago

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Designation: Q_1NNC (Quinncy)

He resembles a massive and rotting skeletal Rhus. Standing around one thousand feet tall, and taking approximately several centuries to move his physical body from one end of the first joined systems to the other, this Senti-metal (sentient-metal) is the last of his kind. He prefers to stay in the largest planet... which also happens to have the best view for someone as stationary as he.

Back/story: Q_1NNC is a construction Senti-metal who was connected to the mainframe of a linked communication arm of a galaxy powered by its various stars. Despite being primarily used for construction, he was the only surviving Senti-metal after a devastating magical plague, and thus the only one to be able to keep the planets from shutting down if the Rhus manage to make it back post quarantine.

There are several hundred orbiting masses (though only 8 planets and 176 moons for his broadcasting system) all interconnected with the other via massive tethers and tunnels all overcrowded with machines so dense that many seemed like little more than slums when populated. The foremost planets are primarily filled with generators and solar panels, the middle have the most communities/communications related items, while the outermost is largely for deep memory/object storage. Moons were reserved for housing the richer Rhus, their guests, and anything befitting of their lifestyle

After a few millennia, and despite his best efforts of maintenance, things began to deteriorate or change from outside interference. Primary power storages and major memory core sections have been bombarded over the ages by asteroids and various space debris which eventually caused his paralysis. Many of the outermost planetoids in particular have been completely annihilated, and unfortunately, the deep memory moon of his base code was a part of them.

The resulting surge of power redirecting to him fried his brain and compromised his major movement abilities. Since he is not allowed to shut down while connected to the mainframe (nor shift consciousness to alternate bodies), he is fused to the cables, and stays forever awake and (mostly) unmoving. He learns how to move himself via attaching and reattaching to the more flexible wires and machines, and dragging his body to and fro. The speakers he talks out of sound muffled due to him not being able to open his mouth… and his eyes, unable to close, leak fluid constantly giving him a ghastly crying appearance. He longs for death.

The thing is, if he were to die, the system would as well— his library of knowledge, and treasure trove of technology, would be forever lost. Anyone who shuts him down would be branded as a criminal.

His electronic/communicative reach spans several hundreds of galaxies in length but most know of him already and turn change their frequencies as to not feel guilty in ignoring him. More recently, he plays soft and sad lullabies across the universe itself hoping for someone to finally take pity and end his misery. The sad and lonely souls of the universe have taken to using this as comfort—they journey to thank him for his songs during their darkest hours, and pray that he too will have someone save him for good.

This change in his calls is directly caused by bug-like beings that have taken to calling him their God. When they first arrived, they did not know exactly how large his system was and were lost for months in the labyrinthian underground of the connected planets. After Quincy noticed them, he guided them to his chamber through the vast speaker and camera systems. However, it had been several generations since their initial landing, and the bugs started to believe that it was a God that had saved them due to the echoing and ethereal nature of the voice, not to mention the sheer size of his domain.

When they arrived they hailed him as their savior and formed a religion around their now fuming “god”. It took several decades more for him to give up and accept his role as their savior.

He lets them paint his body.

#my art #my ocs #fantasy art #alien mythology #speculative biology #original species #original character #artists on tumblr #digital art #oc: Q_1NNC

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roadtophantom · 1 year ago

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Let your S(e)oul take you where you long to be (III) - Cho Seung-woo

(part three of my neverending travelogue, I thought I'll just write one but this already got long)

I think it didn't quite hit me that I was seeing Phantom even when I went in the theatre, likely because of travel adrenaline? I was still a bit dazed coming in and I didn't quite settle until the show started. But also it was so warm and tight that it's hard to get a semblance of personal space.

But it didn't take long because Charlotte Theatre is small and it kinda really wraps itself around the stage. At least that's how I felt.

Because when the overture started and the sparks came off, I was sucked right in.

But listen. Hearing the organ played in person and watching the chandelier make its steady ascent, coming from a lockdown of 3 or so years after fighting tooth and nail to be on that seat, were enough to reduce me to actual tears.

I was sobbing behind my face mask — a souvenir from the pandemic that is sadly here to stay— as reality finally hit me that I managed to live to see another Phantom show when such a possibility didn't exist then, and it's as real as the chandelier looming large before my very eyes.

Second was seeing the proscenium in its fullest glory. Unfortunately, 2delier and the stripped down World Tour revival stage cannot possibly hold a candle to the magnificence of a complete replica set. I haven't seen this setup since 10 years ago in Singapore (not counting HK coz that was an arena and it's a bit different).

I'm reviewing both performances at once because I saw them in 24 hours and it will help me make (healthy) comparisons.

But I think I want to write about the Korean production as a whole first. I've read that it took a while for the local production to mount another POTO KR because of the scale and the demands of the show and the producers want to get everything perfect.

And I think they really did, or at least one that approaches sheer excellence in acting, singing, dancing, all that.

The ballerinas are in step with each other, the cast harmonizes so beautifully even in Prima Donna which tends to go messy and overwhelming...As a full company they are undefeatable.

And I've seen some of the most heartrending performances and heard the most exquisite voices in these two shows.

During my week in Seoul, I managed to catch a movie on cable TV led by Cho Seung-woo called Inside Men and he played this prosecutor who is smart, ambitious, and hellbent for justice. He was all suits, yanked neckties, and cigarettes. A cool hero you wanna root for. And in the first movie I've seen of him (The Classic), he plays a young Romeo with such pure ideals on love and friendship, again a good guy you can't help but love and feel hurt for.

The Phantoms - Cho Seung-woo

Those are barely a scratch on the surface of the veteran actor's stellar filmography and theatre work. His versatility is undisputed, and he's played everything from Hedwig to Sweeney Todd until he finally took on the challenge as the Phantom, which is still so mindblowing to me.

There was no hint of swagger, coolness, or goodness in Cho Seung-woo's Phantom. He is basically the anti-cute Phantom. This is the sewer rat, the stone gargoyle on the roof, the cantankerous old neighbor you don't wanna deal with. He made that especially clear from the mirror scene, as he openly sneered at Raoul's attempts at Christine.

The Phantoms I've seen would try to play up being angel, ghost or even just try to present themselves as an educated gentleman forced under very unfortunate circumstances, but Cho Seung-woo's Phantom is well frankly, truly what you'd expect of a creature living in an underground lake. He isn't shy or afraid to be menacing because that's...what's on the script anyway, right?

With one caveat, he can't bear to be ugly in front of Christine who is his weakness from the very beginning.

His Music of the Night gives a sneak peek of the kind of desolation and yearning he feels for her. He also peppers his performances throughout with whispers of "Christine" (even after MOTN) which I realized is his desperate plea of help.

Cho Phantom loses his temper quite easily, he's delighted like Rumpelstiltskin dancing around the fire when he plays tricks at Carlotta, unafraid to play up his monster persona to get his way. But this evil facade falls in front of Christine. Of course he tries to put up that mean act, but eventually he is just this awkward teenage boy with a first-ever crush. He is so hyperaware of his appearance in front of her. He practically worships her.

So imagine in PONR, he groans at Christine's advances and in AIAOY reprise he is almost on his knees begging her to please take pity and accept him.

In Final Lair, he recoils after Christine kisses him in a 'Why would you do that to yourself? Why touch a cursed creature like me with your perfect being? Please don't corrupt yourself' way. And when she goes back to return the ring, he really tried to wipe his hands on his pants, fix himself because he had to at least try to be less horrible as he already is in front of his idol.

As a singer, CSW can carry the notes, but he is not the best singer, not in front of actual tenors in the cast.

Yet his nuanced acting, the level of sensitivity and hyper-awareness he has, the kind of vulnerability he exposes to Christine at Final Lair is one of a kind. You can see he dug into the psychology of the character, imagined how it was like living miserably like him and how it's like to lose everything when he lets Christine, his only source of light and happiness, go.

You feel a lot of things when he's on stage, I truly felt so sorry for him, because his Phantom was such that the world truly let him down. So many realizations you'll see of his character. I think his was the most humanistic rendition of the role I've seen so far. It's a solid performance, and I understand he likes to change the details up every show, no wonder his shows sell out so fast.

#cho seung woo #rtp goes to seoul #Phantom of the Opera #gonna do my best and write the rest and finish this whole thing 😭😭#but the words they are not quite wording

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