fatherofmachine

[fatherofmachine]

[fatherofmachine]

ooc. So… not going to lie. I’ve been kind of disappointed to see so much misgendering of certain muses who use they/them pronouns on dash. It’s triggering for me, and I bet it can be triggering for a lot of trans/nonbinary members of the community. I know there are not a lot of resources online that tell you how to roleplay respectively with characters who use multiple pronouns, neopronouns, or gender-neutral pronouns- or hell, use binary pronouns but don’t identify as a man or woman…. The list goes on. Here are some of my thoughts as a member of the rpc for over 10 years and as a nonbinary person myself (they/them):

My character doesn’t know this nonbinary character’s gender, they’re meeting for the first time… So they would misgender them.

As a general rule of thumb, to avoid triggering or activating a mun’s own gender dysphoria, use the character’s correct pronouns. Period. End of story. Sometimes it’s not as ‘realistic’, but it is respectful.

I don’t think they would understand non-binary pronouns due to [insert background/upbringing/political views] and would misgender.

If you’re concerned about these issues, just reach out to the mun privately and ask permission for these things, so all parties are getting consent to this potentially triggering content.

My character and/or I use gendered terms like “girl, dude, man, sis” as a gender-neutral term! They don’t mean any harm by it.

Pronouns for sure don’t have gender, but society sure has associated it with them! Whether or not you mean to misgender someone… taking those actions without care can lead to exactly that. A good rule of thumb, when dealing with ANY trans and/or nonbinary persons, whether in real life or fictional, is to check in with them about their preferences for ‘gendered descriptors’. Is dude/sis/girl/handsome/beautiful okay to use in reference to them? And once you get these answers…. RESPECT them.

Oh god, I made a mistake, and I totally used the wrong pronoun/gender descriptor… I feel terrible.

This is a normal reaction, and shows that you care. When you feel those terrible or ‘shame’ related feelings in regard to misgendering… Use it to make GOOD choices moving forward, including proofreading your work, messages, and asks before sending. This is a good habit to get in regardless.

If it is a post, go to the post and correct the mistake.

If it is in an ask, message the mun privately to give them heads up, and resend the ask.

If it is in discord, edit the message.

If it’s in tumblr pms, correct it with a * or resend the message entirely.

Mistakes happen. If you would like to apologize, send a ‘sorry!’ and move on… But I’m going to let you in on a little secret: most trans/nonbinary people just want to see the effort put in to change and correct things. So please, do not send a guilty paragraph expressing your remorse and a request to just ‘let me know when I mess up next time!’. Do the work yourself, and be patient.

A final note from your favorite nonbinary cinnamon roll

This was taken from a medium post that I found resonated well, and I use to explain to my own students in the classroom: Treat appropriate gendering like learning a new language. You can’t learn a new language by osmosis or by sleeping on a dictionary in that language. You have to practice and try and make an effort. It is harder for some people than for others, but I promise you’ll get used to it over time. If you can learn new words and new languages, then you can learn how to treat trans people properly; especially if you treat learning how to do so with that level of respect.

[fatherofmachine]

I’m gonna dub this a mutuals only PERMANENT PLOTTING CALL.

I can’t write with everyone all at the same time, especially since I’m taking things slow, so—by giving this post a like, you’re letting me know that you’re interested in plotting / writing together at some point ( sooner or later, Eventually, ect. ), in regards to folx I haven’t written with yet. It also lets me know that:

If we already have a thread or two ( or more lmao ) that we have free range of plotting, whether it be with threads or memes.

Both parties can send memes freely, whenever.

Either of us can slide into each other’s IMs, whether that’s here or on discord.

You DO NOT have to have a plot or an idea or anything in mind to give this a like, I’m absolutely down to compare notes and brainstorm. No pressure at all!! This just allows me to gouge interest easily.

[fatherofmachine]

[ ! ] INPUT : theirmachine

[ ! ] INPUT: @fatherofmachine·· “Our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

[ ! ] IDENTIFIED: ADMIN Full access granted

Speech pattern suggests that Admin requires machine’s assistance

[ RUN FUNCTION: GOD MODE ] Primary objective: Navigate facility undetected Secondary objective: Provide company to Admin [ BYPASSING CORE PROTOCOL: COMMUNICATION ] Accessing Bluetooth speaker

Running vocal analysis… Parameters: Emotion; mood; stress [ ! ] RETURN: TRUE

Task: Offer comfort to Admin

[ BEHAVIOURAL APPROXIMATION ACTIVE: SAMANTHA G.ROVES ]

“Harry– I’d have thought you of all people would know better than to call it luck.” Reviewing archived data… Query: Machine’s intervention to protect Admin and assets

[ SECURITY CAMERAS DECRYPTED ] Analysing patrol route… Potential threats detected: 3

[ MAPPING OPTIMAL COURSE ]

“Take the next right, twenty paces. Hide out in the storage closet for sixty seconds and our armed friend and his company assault rifle will be none the wiser.”

   ❝If not luck, then what would you suggest?❞ Harold asked with a hint of curiosity, despite how mild his tone may have sounded; it was helpful, not only to engage in such deeply familiar banter,—while at the same time, all-together different and difficult to anticipate what would come next—but to keep his mind otherwise occupied while he followed Her instructions. The sound of Root’s voice continuously filled him to the brim with so much aching pain, affection twining through it like tendrils, squeezing tight with every word, it felt as though he were in danger of drowning in it.

   There was also, of course, the emotion that churned with every spoken word between his creation and himself. While the way they spoke now, The Machine taking on an approximation of Root’s voice and personality to a degree, was certainly different ... it was still undoubtedly Her behind it all. In a way, it suited them both, despite Harold’s initial reservations. Some of that affectionate ache was specifically reserved for Her too, but ... in truth, it had always been there.

   He followed her instructions exactly, making his way down the hall with stiff, limping steps that somehow managed to be quick and smooth when necessary. Harold reached for the indicated storage closet, opened the door and stepped inside, followed by a smooth turn before closing it, encasing himself in darkness. He strained to hear, listening for voices, footsteps, the sound of the fore-mentioned assault rifle no doubt held at ready as the person tasked with finding them patrolled the hall. Harold didn’t utter another word until She’d given him the all clear—he’d always been a lousy whisperer—but once She did, he stepped out of the closet and continued on their route.

   ❝I appreciate the accommodation, by the way.❞ Harold offered, his tone subtly softening with his words. He had noticed the extra time She afforded him with Her instructions, an indication that She was keeping his disability in mind. It was intuitive of Her and, in the grand scheme of things, not something that was strictly necessary ... but She took the time to do so regardless. It made things a little easier on him, given how quickly he needed to move and how much pain he had to push to the back of his mind.

[fatherofmachine]

[ ! ] INPUT : griim

No matter how hard Gemma scrubbed, the memories would not leave her, the nights of screaming and the pain that followed. Even now, living on the streets, her father torments her relentlessly. Gemma knew why she knew too much, and she was an asset. However, Gemma wanted to be something more. She wanted to be someone SHE chose to be. Walking back to the motel, the woman kept her head low, tears slowly falling, ‘why me? Why did I have to get a father who hated me.’ The woman asked herself. The stale bread and questionable lunchmeat shifted in the bag as she had noticed she was not alone. Over the years, Gemma learned how to protect herself, picking up skills from fighting styles she watched through the window and from the YouTube videos she managed to see on the television. And, after some bargaining, gained a blade for protection. So in a situation like this, she thought she would be ready. Glancing back, she tried to make it as discreet as possible, but turning her head back around, someone stepped out. “Shit.” The bag dropped as her heart skipped a beat, and Gemma began to run. However, a tight grip on her jacket caused her to lose her footing and fall to the ground. Likely scraping her knee and injuring her ankle, adrenaline forced her to push on. “Leave me alone!”

Turning a corner, she once again found herself surrounded. Fumbling in jacket pockets, she pulled out the blade, thinking she could handle this. That was until she noticed they all carried guns. ‘Smart, Gemma.’ She thought, ‘you brought a knife to a gunfight.’ A heavy sigh escaped her lips, ready to go down swinging. At least she could say she tried. Right? Just as she was preparing to strike first, she noticed they all seemed to fall over, grabbing their ears, “what the….” Not staying around long enough to figure out why she jumped over them and began to run to the motel. Even if she did not plan on staying there tonight, it was where all her things were.

Getting into the motel, she looked around the room. Her breath was heavy, and her head throbbed. All she wanted to do was come back and eat, not pack and run for her life…. Again. “Becca! BECCA!” Gemma looked around for her friend, but it seemed she was out again for the day. Grabbing a piece of paper and a motel pen, she frantically wrote a letter saying she would be back, but she did not know when. And, just as she was going to sign it, she heard something. Heart still pumping, hand again reached for her knife, “Damn it, I thought I lost those fucks back several blocks.” She grumbles and steps towards the door, quickly opening Gemma points the blade at the other. “Do not fucking move, got it? Do. Not. Fucking. Move.” Even though her voice was menacing, her eyes gave away the fear and pain she was in. If she were honest, Gemma was tired of running. A trembling set of hands kept the blade at the other, she had yet to take a life, but she would if she had to. ‘It is him or you, Gem. And it better be you.’ Gemma reminds herself.

Watching as hands raised to show he had nothing, she did not trust it. Looks could always be deceiving. Her father is a perfect example of that. Eyes quickly dart up and down him and then at the surrounding area. He seemed alone, but she knew how sneaky her father and his goons could be. “Do not call me that!” Gemma spat out. She was not a Harding. Her father made it clear Gemma was something he could throw away. “My name is—” She paused. How did this man know her name? She had done everything to keep her name and anything about her away from the public. Doing so made it harder for anyone to find her. Eyes narrowed, “how do you know me? Who sent you! Answer me right now, or so help me, I will kill you and make an example out of you! I am not scared to kill you.” Which was a lie, she was, but like any animal backed in a corner, she would do anything to save herself.

“And you are right. I don’t have any reason to trust you… How do I know you aren’t with those guys who tried to kill me…” Adrenaline began to wear off, her ankle killed her, and she was ready for this to be over. “Besides, how can you help me?”

   ❝Gemma,❞ Harold corrected himself, an apology coloring the sound of his voice—he hadn’t heard her use her birth surname while he’d been listening in, but he hadn’t exactly heard her actively push against it, either. It hadn’t come up until that moment, but he could scarcely blame her for it. Dark brows briefly quirked upward with emphasis as he tilted his upper body sideways with a slight turn, the movement indicative of the way someone would’ve turned their head to gesture behind them.

   ❝Those men after you—they were connected to the person your father hired to kill you via bluetooth earpieces,❞ Harold gestured slightly to his own ear with one of the hands he still held upright. ❝The connection was disrupted with RF interference. Causes an earsplitting screeching sound, really painful, it gave you the means to escape—that was me. ❞ He was speaking with firm urgency, for he had no doubt that they would recover and come looking. Harold suspected they already knew where it was Gemma had been staying, who she’d been staying with—he made a mental note to contact detective Carter to check on Gemma’s friend, to ensure those men hadn’t found her, too.

   ❝ I help people out of very bad situations and, I’m afraid the only way we’re gonna get you out of this is if he does think you’re dead. For that to work, I’m gonna need your help—but we don’t have much time, and ... I fear, if they don’t find you soon, they’re gonna go looking for your friend Becca instead. I can ensure her safety, too, but ... you are gonna have to trust me. I’ve got somewhere safe to go, but we’ve have to go now.❞

   Harold’s eyes briefly flickered down pointedly to the knife Gemma still held, ready to strike at him should he make any wrong move. ❝This’ll be a lot easier without the tension, so would you please ... put the knife down, Gemma.❞ He held her gaze then as time seemed to stand still; the both of them standing opposite each other, a razor sharp line of tension and fear keeping them there. Something barbed and painful twinged in Harold’s chest, however, at the sight of her terror. She was like a trapped animal, backed into a corner, perceiving anything unfamiliar that moved a threat. He wasn’t one to fight, not like this. Especially not when he knew that whatever fate awaited him, he likely deserved it—but Harold understood the fear. He understood it deep into his bones.

   ❝I know you’re afraid and, frankly, you’ve every right to be. But ... the only thing I’m here to do is help you. ❞ His voice softened, just slightly, with these words, the firm volume coming down a few notches.

[fatherofmachine]

OOC; Hello, yes, vaca things ended up being a bit on the stressful side bc the person I went with was a bit indecisive and impulsive lmao. GOOD NEWS THO, the CARRD is all finished, you can find it HERE!! It contains the following: Rules, Harold’s bio, POI/Harold Finch canon summary, verses and associates.

I like it a lot better than what I had going on with my popup pages and I did some heavy tweaking / rewriting in some places so, I’ve basically just disabled the associated popups and have a link to the Carrd instead.

Please check it out when you have the chance!!

[fatherofmachine]

@fatherofmachine​ i am calling us out.

[fatherofmachine]

I’m gonna dub this a mutuals only PERMANENT PLOTTING CALL.

I can’t write with everyone all at the same time, especially since I’m taking things slow, so—by giving this post a like, you’re letting me know that you’re interested in plotting / writing together at some point ( sooner or later, Eventually, ect. ), in regards to folx I haven’t written with yet. It also lets me know that:

If we already have a thread or two ( or more lmao ) that we have free range of plotting, whether it be with threads or memes.

Both parties can send memes freely, whenever.

Either of us can slide into each other’s IMs, whether that’s here or on discord.

You DO NOT have to have a plot or an idea or anything in mind to give this a like, I’m absolutely down to compare notes and brainstorm. No pressure at all!! This just allows me to gouge interest easily.

[fatherofmachine]

                              HOW DO YOU LOVE?

       with softness, smiles and secret glances

you love with a tide of emotions curtained by vague hand gestures and almost hidden intricate details. you love as if it is the only thing you were born to do. you love as if you are set in a jane austen novel. your love is finding their eyes across the room and smiling a smile that speaks more than any words you utter ever could. your love is fingertips brushing against each other. your love is greeting with hugs. you love greatly. you love gently.

TAGGED BY: @herinterface​

TAGGING: @deu5exmach1na​​, @anoutlicr​, @analoginterface​ and @assetrisen​

[fatherofmachine]

I’m gonna dub this a mutuals only PERMANENT PLOTTING CALL.

I can’t write with everyone all at the same time, especially since I’m taking things slow, so—by giving this post a like, you’re letting me know that you’re interested in plotting / writing together at some point ( sooner or later, Eventually, ect. ), in regards to folx I haven’t written with yet. It also lets me know that:

If we already have a thread or two ( or more lmao ) that we have free range of plotting, whether it be with threads or memes.

Both parties can send memes freely, whenever.

Either of us can slide into each other’s IMs, whether that’s here or on discord.

You DO NOT have to have a plot or an idea or anything in mind to give this a like, I’m absolutely down to compare notes and brainstorm. No pressure at all!! This just allows me to gouge interest easily.

[fatherofmachine]

PS BATCH ICON TUTORIAL

This tutorial will show you how to make any amount of icons you so desire - IN ONE SITTING!  (up too 500 at most to respond properly without lag).  This is largely an image based tutorial, but if anything is unclear, please send me your questions!

you will need:

-photoshop

-some screencaps or images you wish to edit

tutorial below the cut:

Keep reading

[fatherofmachine]

                                     don’t count me out just yet, harold,                                          MIGHT have a few moves left.

[fatherofmachine]

I don’t headcanon anything I just know and perceive the truth

[fatherofmachine]

name / nickname: Mars.

age: 28

currently reading: I started re-reading 1984 recently and before that I was re-reading The Radium Girls. Aside from that, I pretty much read many, many things at a time lmao.

number of muses: 13, counting the muses on my multi.

favourite colour: Dark reds and dark pinks / magentas <3

favourite flower: Orchids.

favourite muse of yours: Finch of course and my boy Ainsley, who's an OC. I love them all but those two are Special.

favourite show: Person of Interest is legit My Favorite Show Ever. Close seconds are Lost and Lucifer.

number of followers: I think it's 40, or 41.

number of starters: I've written One so far, but otherwise I don't owe any I don't think.

last movie you saw: Jurrasic World: Domination ( as a Jurassic Park and dino enthusiast, it was fucking incredible btw ).

tagged by: @itsasset ​

tagging: @analoginterface, @assetrisen, @deu5exmach1na and @anoutlicr 👀 👀

[fatherofmachine]

just as a friendly reminder, anon is a privilege, not a right.

you are under no obligation to have anon turned on, nor are you obligated to keep it on. For whatever reason, if you want to turn off anon, you are 100% more than allowed to do so. If you’re getting nasty messages, you are not required to put up with it - delete the messages (or respond if you want to, but please don’t feel obligated to answer them, either) and turn off anon. It’s a privilege that can be given, and something that can be taken away

[fatherofmachine]

[fatherofmachine]

If you helped someone… Or loved someone… If even a single person remembers you… Then maybe you never really die. And maybe… this isn’t the end at all. Person of Interest | S05E13 | Return 0