#Inductive sensing technology

[futureelectronic1527]

Melexis: Introducing Induxis (Fully Integrated Inductive Switch)

https://www.futureelectronics.com/m/melexis . Discover the first Induxis® switch, an inductive switch that fully integrates the coils. Contact-less, magnet-less, and stray field immune, this solution simply detects any conductive target (e.g. metal). It is ideal for safety applications in the area of electrification. https://youtu.be/ilXKkf_K30U

[mellonhead58]

she is correct though

ryoko kui is an electric stove hater confirmed

[leejenowrld]

new me — lee jeno smut

pairing — soft dom! jeno x reader, strangers to lovers

genre — smut, fluff

word count — 12.5k

synopsis — moving to a new college mid-term wasn’t part of the plan, but neither was jeno. all it takes is one tour guide, one party, one shared look, and suddenly you’re in his bed, legs wrapped around his waist, his cock stretching you so perfectly you forget why you ever hesitated. he’s addictive, and the way he fucks you—slow, deep, like he’s already yours—makes it impossible not to fall apart beneath him.

authors note — happy new year’s eve, my loves 🖤 this is my final fic of 2024, and what a year it’s been. my first on tumblr, and i’m so grateful to have found this community and shared my works with you all! consider this a little gift to celebrate the new year and hitting a follower milestone <3. honestly, this isn’t my best work, but who cares—I’m in a full-on jeno head rot. it’s just smut, with a little build-up, but the smut is so soft, so warm, it’s ridiculous. soft dom jeno is at a solid 10000/10 here. yes, oc and jeno just met. yes, they’re already stupidly possessive over each other. enjoy! also this is not proof read.  

listen to this song whilst reading !

December 23rd, 

The campus was unnervingly quiet, the kind of quiet that made the crunch of your boots against the frosted ground sound louder than it should. Snow-dusted trees lined the sprawling stone paths, and the chill in the air felt heavy, pressing against your chest. Your breath curled visibly as you approached the grand administration building ahead, its towering columns and arched windows casting long shadows against the gray sky. The facade, a blend of historic elegance and modern design, loomed cold and uninviting, its grandeur only making the campus feel more deserted. The email inviting you for an early induction had sounded welcoming, even reassuring, but as you walked through the silent, snow-covered grounds, a quiet unease began to settle in your chest. Without the usual hum of students rushing past, every step made the sense of not quite belonging sink a little deeper.

Transferring to a new college in the middle of the term was far from ideal, but the opportunity had been impossible to pass up. This wasn’t just any institution—it was one of the most prestigious in the country, known for its groundbreaking research and distinguished faculty. Among them was Professor Doyoung Kim, a name spoken with reverence in academic circles. As head of the engineering department, he was a pioneer in his field, renowned for his contributions to sustainable design and innovative technology. His work had been published in journals you’d once pored over late into the night, dreaming of a future where you might cross paths with such minds. This wasn’t simply a college; it was a launching pad for the kind of career you’d always envisioned. Despite the awkward timing, despite the upheaval, the chance to study here—under the guidance of someone like Kim—was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The anxiety you carried was undeniable, but so was the quiet, determined thrill that you were here, stepping into a world you’d only imagined.

Inside, the warmth was faint, and the echo of your footsteps only deepened the emptiness of the halls. When your eyes landed on him, you almost stopped in your tracks. Professor Doyoung Kim greeted you at the main office, standing tall in a perfectly tailored suit that seemed to amplify his presence. His composed demeanor and sharp features radiated authority, a stark reminder of the name you’d read about countless times in academic journals. He wasn’t just an acclaimed professor; he was a pioneer, a mind you had long admired from afar. Seeing him in person left you momentarily stunned, the reality of his stature hitting you harder than you expected. Yet, despite his intimidating reputation, there was a kindness in his sharp gaze that softened the edges of your nervousness, making it hard to feel entirely overwhelmed.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and professional, “I’m glad you came in today so we could make you feel welcome and show you around—especially on such late notice.”

You nodded, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. “Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity.”

Doyoung smiled faintly, gesturing for you to follow him down the hall. “You’re an exceptional student,” he added, his tone factual rather than complimentary. “It’s not every year we get someone with your academic track record. We’re excited to have you join us next term.”

You nodded again, your throat tightening as you fell into step beside him. His words didn’t feel like flattery—they felt like a challenge, a subtle reflection of the expectations you carried with you. Years of meticulous effort had built your academic reputation, but the thought of starting over, proving yourself in an unfamiliar environment, pressed heavily on your chest. Confidence in your abilities wasn’t the issue—it was the weight of living up to the opportunity you’d been given.

As Professor Kim walked you through the structure of the semester, your nerves began to shift, settling into a focused hum. He spoke about the program’s intensity, the emphasis on collaboration, and the resources available to students with the kind of precision that made his words reassuring. His voice was calm, steady, even soothing in its way. But just as you started to feel more at ease, you turned a corner and collided with someone, the impact snapping you out of your thoughts like a jolt.

“Oh—sorry!” you stammered, stepping back quickly as your bag nearly slipped from your shoulder.

The person you bumped into barely moved, his tall frame unyielding as he glanced down at you with an expression that was impossible to read. His dark hair fell into his eyes, brushing against furrowed brows, and his lips pressed into a firm, unimpressed line. He looked like he had better things to do, like your clumsiness had interrupted something far more important.

But then his gaze lingered, his sharp eyes catching on the curve of your face, the hurried apology spilling from your lips. The tension in his brow eased, the faintest shift in his expression betraying a flicker of interest. His gaze softened as it traced over you—curious now, lingering just a second too long. His disinterest cracked, just enough to reveal something more, as if you’d momentarily pulled his focus away from whatever had consumed it before.

“Great,” Doyoung interrupted smoothly, stepping between the two of you. “Jeno, meet Y/N. Y/N, this is Jeno. He’s one of our top students in the department. Jeno, would you mind showing her around? Make sure she gets the full tour.”

Jeno exhaled slowly through his nose, his expression settling into something impassive, though his jaw twitched slightly. He pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck, the movement deliberate as his eyes flicked from Doyoung to you.

“Sure,” he said, the word falling flat, edged with reluctance, though the weight of his gaze told a different story. His eyes swept over your face, sharp and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. The curve of his mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smirk playing there, like he knew exactly what his presence did to you. “I’ll show you around. Try not to bump into anyone else, though.”

Doyoung nodded approvingly, clapping Jeno lightly on the shoulder. “Good. I’ll leave you two to it. Y/N, if you have any questions, feel free to reach out.” With that, he walked away, his footsteps fading into the stillness, leaving the two of you standing far too close in the empty hallway.

You couldn’t ignore the way Jeno’s gaze lingered, his posture relaxed but his eyes anything but. He didn’t look thrilled to be stuck with this task, but there was something else beneath the surface—an intensity in the way his gaze dipped briefly to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. It made the air between you feel heavy, charged, like it held secrets you weren’t ready to name.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, though it felt deafening in the quiet.

He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair falling just into his eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirked up, almost imperceptibly. “Hi.”

The single word wasn’t warm or overly friendly—it was casual, almost dismissive—but the way his voice dropped made it feel personal, intimate. His gaze stayed locked on yours, unwavering, as though he was studying you, searching for something unspoken in your reaction.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice low, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack in a slow, deliberate motion that somehow drew your attention. “Where do you want to start? Library? Labs? Or are we just walking aimlessly?”

“The library,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze. “If that’s okay.”

He nodded, the slight tilt of his head carrying an ease you couldn’t replicate, then turned without another word, gesturing for you to follow. You fell into step beside him, your heartbeat quickening with every silent second that passed. His pace was slow, unhurried, the sound of his boots on the stone path matching your own as the quiet between you deepened—not awkward, but charged, as if even the spaces between his words carried weight.

The campus looked entirely different with Jeno leading the way. The snow-dusted paths that had felt cold and uninviting now seemed softened, the towering stone buildings framing your surroundings rather than looming over them. But it wasn’t just the campus—it was him. The faint brush of his arm as he walked too close, the subtle warmth of his presence despite the icy chill of the air, the way his voice resonated low and steady, grounding you in the unfamiliarity of the moment.

“That’s the dining hall,” he said, his tone casual, though a subtle rasp in his voice made the words feel heavier. “Food’s decent most days. Breakfast is worth getting up for, but lunch and dinner… well, you’ll survive.”

You nodded, your throat dry as you tried to focus on his words, but your attention was pulled elsewhere—drawn to the way his lips moved when he spoke, the casual flick of his hand as he gestured toward the building. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but there was a distance in it, like he wasn’t fully invested in the conversation. Yet, every so often, his gaze would flick to you, quick and sharp, as though he was studying the way you reacted to him, the way your breath caught or your steps faltered.

When you reached the engineering labs—a sleek glass building that gleamed even under the muted winter light—his voice softened, the shift so subtle it was almost imperceptible. “You’ll probably spend most of your time here,” he said, his words slower now, his gaze flicking briefly to yours before continuing. “Professors are good, but they don’t mess around.”

“Sounds intense,” you said, your voice lighter, though the slight tremor betrayed you.

“It is,” he replied, but his gaze lingered, dark and steady, his eyes tracing the curve of your face before meeting yours with a heat that made your stomach twist. His lips curved slightly, the faintest smirk appearing as though he’d noticed your reaction and found it amusing. “But you look like the type who can handle it.”

The words hit harder than they should have, his voice low and deliberate, laced with something that felt heavier than casual observation. His eyes stayed on yours, unyielding, as if daring you to deny it. The air between you seemed thicker, his presence pressing into the space in a way that made your chest tighten and your breath falter.

You looked away quickly, your cheeks warming despite the icy air, but the weight of his gaze lingered, wrapping around you like a thread you couldn’t quite untangle. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, in the way his voice dipped just for you, and it left your pulse pounding in your ears as the moment stretched on, charged with a tension neither of you dared to name.

When you reached the library, the sheer scale of it stole your breath. Rows of books stretched endlessly in every direction, the warm glow of the lights above casting a golden hue across the polished wood floors. High ceilings arched overhead, their grandeur somehow both awe-inspiring and calming. Jeno stepped ahead of you, pushing the heavy door open with one hand, his other casually stuffed into his jacket pocket.

“Best place on campus,” he said, his voice carrying an unbothered confidence that seemed to come naturally to him. He stepped aside, holding the door open for you as though it required no thought, just instinct. “Quiet, warm, and the coffee’s decent—if you know where to get it.”

You stepped inside, the subtle warmth of the space enveloping you immediately. The scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, grounding you in a way that felt almost nostalgic. Even though the library was nearly empty, the quiet hum of central heating and the faint rustle of a page turning somewhere in the distance made it feel alive. You glanced around, taking it all in, and found yourself speaking before you’d even realized.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, the words falling softly into the stillness.

Jeno’s lips curved, faint amusement flickering across his face as his eyes followed your reaction. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful as his gaze moved across the room—but not for long. His eyes returned to you, lingering, as though drawn back against his will. “It’s not bad,” he added, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk that felt deliberate, though his gaze seemed far more interested in you than the grandeur of the space.

He led you deeper into the library, his steps measured, his voice low as he pointed out various sections. His explanations were quick, almost perfunctory, as though he’d done this routine countless times. But there was something about the way he moved, the way his occasional glances seemed to linger on you before snapping back to the shelves, that made your heart skip.

“This is where most people camp out during finals,” he said, gesturing to a cluster of study tables near a large window. Snowflakes drifted outside, soft and slow, the courtyard below blanketed in white. “If you’re lucky, you’ll find a spot without someone snoring next to you.”

The dryness of his humor caught you off guard, and you let out a quiet laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. His smirk widened slightly, and for a moment, the distance he carried seemed to fade, replaced by something easier, more comfortable. There was a steadiness about him, an unspoken confidence in the way he occupied space, and though your nerves still hummed beneath the surface, his presence made you feel oddly grounded in the vast unfamiliarity of the moment.

Jeno led you out of the library and back into the chill of the afternoon, his steps unhurried as he gestured toward a path branching off to the left. The cold nipped at your cheeks, but his presence kept you anchored, the warmth of his voice cutting through the bite of the wind.

“There’s a café just ahead,” he said, glancing over at you briefly. “If you ever need a break between classes, it’s a decent spot to hide out. Quiet enough most of the time, though it gets crowded around finals.”

The path wound past a small courtyard, snow blanketing the benches and casting a soft glow under the pale sunlight. You followed him, falling easily into step beside him, and for a moment, you let yourself settle into the calmness he seemed to carry.

“It sounds perfect,” you said, your voice lighter now, the tension in your chest easing with each step.

“It’s not bad,” Jeno replied, his tone casual. Then, as though letting you in on a secret, he added, “The hot chocolate’s better than the coffee, though. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected confession, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips. “Noted. I’ll keep it between us.”

The café came into view, a cozy space nestled between two older campus buildings, its wide windows fogged with the warmth inside. Jeno held the door open for you again, his hand resting lightly against the frame as he gestured you in. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wrapped around you the moment you stepped inside, and the soft hum of conversation made the space feel alive but not overwhelming.

“This is probably my favorite spot,” he admitted as he followed you in, his voice dropping slightly, as though the quieter surroundings demanded it. “I usually come here before late lectures. Keeps me sane.”

The warmth of the space settled over you, and for the first time since arriving on campus, you felt yourself fully relax. You glanced around, noticing the mix of students tucked into booths and perched at small tables, their heads bent over laptops and textbooks. A few of them glanced up as you walked by, their eyes trailing not you, but Jeno.

At first, you thought they were curious about you—your unfamiliar face drawing attention in a space that likely had its regulars. But the looks lingered, darting to Jeno with recognition and, in some cases, something like admiration. You caught snippets of whispers as you passed, words you couldn’t quite make out but felt like they weren’t about you at all.

Jeno, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe just unaffected. He moved with the same easy confidence he’d shown since you first bumped into him, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders relaxed. If he noticed the way people looked at him, the way their conversations quieted as he passed, he didn’t let it show.

“Want to grab something?” he asked, nodding toward the counter.

You shook your head, still distracted by the way the atmosphere shifted around him. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Jeno only gave you a faint glance, his brows lifting briefly as if to say sure you are, before turning toward the counter. A few quiet words exchanged with the barista, and he returned moments later with a pistachio muffin and a steaming cup of hot chocolate in hand. He held them out to you, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips when you hesitated.

“Take it,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for refusal. “Trust me—you don’t want to miss this.”

Flustered, you accepted the muffin, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through the paper cup as you cradled it in your hands. Your cheeks warmed as you tore off a piece of the muffin, the soft, nutty sweetness melting on your tongue.

“It’s good,” you admitted quietly, looking up at him as he leaned against a nearby table.

“Of course it is,” he said, taking the other half of the muffin and popping it into his mouth, chewing with a casualness that only added to the ease he carried. His gaze flicked to you briefly as you sipped the hot chocolate, your eyes widening slightly at the rich, velvety flavor.

“This is…” you trailed off, unable to find the right word, but the awe in your expression said enough.

He chuckled softly, his voice low as he leaned in just enough to make the moment feel conspiratorial. “Don’t tell anyone about this hot chocolate. It’s my secret weapon during finals, and if word gets out, I’ll know who to blame.”

You giggled, warmth curling in your chest at his tone. “I’ll treasure it, I promise,” you said, holding the cup up as though swearing allegiance to the drink.

His smile widened just slightly, a flicker of something warmer passing through his eyes before he straightened. “Good,” he said, gesturing toward the door.

The cold hit you again as you stepped back outside, the sharp air a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of the café. Jeno slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head toward another path.

“Next stop,” he said, his breath visible in the chill, “the engineering building. Probably the place you’ll end up hating most by the end of the semester.”

You followed him down a narrow walkway, the sleek glass exterior of the engineering labs coming into view ahead. Inside, the air was hushed, the long corridors lined with lecture halls and labs that hummed faintly with the buzz of equipment left running. Jeno’s voice softened as he showed you around, pointing out the key areas with an easy familiarity that made you feel less overwhelmed.

“That’s the main lab,” he said, gesturing through a glass panel at a sprawling space filled with machinery and workstations. “If you’re lucky, you’ll end up with a professor who doesn’t believe in piling on assignments over the weekend. If not…” He gave you a knowing glance, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’ll survive,” you said, smiling back.

“You will,” he agreed, his tone warmer now. “It’s not all bad. Once you get into a rhythm, it’s… almost fun. Almost.”

His dry humor caught you off guard again, and you found yourself laughing softly as he continued walking. The tension you’d felt earlier in the day had almost entirely faded, replaced by a quiet sense of ease you hadn’t expected.

Yet, as you passed by groups of students, you noticed the stares again—subtle at first, but growing more frequent. Heads turned as Jeno walked by, some students offering nods of acknowledgment, others sneaking glances that lingered just a second too long. You felt the weight of their gazes and assumed it was because you were new, someone unfamiliar walking through spaces they knew so well. But then you realized their focus wasn’t on you at all.

It was on Jeno.

He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t change his stride or posture, but the quiet magnetism he carried seemed to draw people in without him needing to say a word. The way he moved—confident but not cocky, approachable yet distant—held an effortless allure, and the attention he received seemed so natural, so ingrained in the fabric of who he was, that he didn’t even notice it anymore.

But you did. And it left you wondering just how much more there was to Jeno than what he was letting you see.

The thought lingered, settling into your chest like a spark waiting to catch. He slowed as you reached a fork in the path, turning toward you with that same effortless composure, his hands still tucked into his pockets. His gaze held yours briefly, steady but unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier than the quiet around you.

“Do you need me to show you anything else? Or…?” he asked, his tone calm, neutral, yet carrying an undercurrent that made your stomach twist.

You shook your head quickly, not trusting yourself to say much. “No, I think I’m good,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.

“You sure?”

You nodded again, though the look in both of your eyes felt unreadable—something almost feral and dangerous simmering just beneath the surface. The intensity of it made your chest tighten, your breath catching slightly as you managed a soft hum of confirmation.

He smiled then, slow and deliberate, and something about the curve of his lips made the tension between you feel impossibly sharp.

You never imagined your first day at a new college would end like this—naked beneath a man whose body pressed so intimately against yours, his heat swallowing you whole.

Lee Jeno.

His bare skin was warm and firm against yours, the weight of his body grounding you as though he was the only thing tethering you to reality. His face hovered just above yours, dark eyes soft but intent, holding a depth that made your breath catch. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was taking you in, like every detail mattered. A faint smile played on his lips, teasing but tender, as though he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of you could admit.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” he murmured, his voice low, his breath brushing your lips. His words weren’t rushed or rehearsed—they spilled out like a confession, a secret meant only for you. “Since the second I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

The sound of his voice sent a soft shiver down your spine, your body arching slightly toward him before you could stop yourself. His gaze flicked to yours, his smile widening just enough to show he noticed. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, testing, like he was savoring every second. But as you pressed into him, your hands sliding up to his neck, fingers threading into his hair, the kiss deepened.

You moaned softly against his mouth, the sound escaping before you could stifle it, but Jeno didn’t hesitate. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper, slower, his lips moving against yours with a rhythm that felt intoxicating. His hands slid along your sides, his touch featherlight but warm, steadying you, grounding you in the heat building between you.

“I don’t do this,” you murmured, your words breaking softly against his lips as you pulled back just enough to speak.

His brows furrowed slightly, his expression shifting as his gaze locked onto yours. “Do what?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity.

“This,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the weight of the admission sinking into the space between you.

Jeno’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement breaking through his seriousness, but there was no mockery in his expression—only tenderness. “What are we doing?” he murmured, his tone dropping lower as he leaned closer, his forehead brushing yours. “I’m not even—fuck—I haven’t even been inside you yet. All we’re doing is kissing.”

“That still means a lot to me,” you admitted, your voice quiet but firm, your eyes meeting his with a vulnerability that left you feeling bare in a way his touch never could.

His smirk softened, his expression melting into something warmer, more open. “Me too,” he said softly, his voice brushing against your skin as his hand moved to cradle your jaw. His thumb swept along your cheek as he kissed you again, slower this time, pouring everything unspoken into the touch of his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, your hands slipping down to rest against his shoulders, tracing the curve of his muscles as your lips moved together. “Can we just… kiss for now?” you murmured between breaths, your voice tinged with hesitance but steady. “I’m not—I’m not ready for more yet.”

Jeno pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours as his hand slid down to rest against your waist. “Of course,” he said, his tone soft and filled with understanding, the words settling between you like a promise.

A faint laugh escaped his lips, the sound low and warm, as his forehead rested lightly against yours. You swallowed, your cheeks flushed as you took in the softness in his gaze, his warmth grounding you.

“I thought I was ready to fuck,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your voice was quiet, trembling slightly, but the truth of it lingered heavily in the space between you. “But I’m not.”

Jeno paused, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that softened almost immediately into understanding. His thumb brushed gently against your jaw, his touch steady and comforting.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “that’s okay.” His lips curved into a faint smile, and he leaned in, brushing the lightest kiss against your forehead before returning to hover just above your lips. “I get it. We’ll go slow. Whatever you want.”

The two of you melted into each other, the weight of your bodies pressed together as you kissed deeply. Jeno’s hands roamed lightly over your skin, not demanding, but exploring, each touch deliberate and careful. His fingertips grazed your sides, his palms warm against your waist as his lips moved against yours in a rhythm that felt unending.

Soft moans escaped both of you, the sounds mixing with the faint rustle of the sheets as you shifted closer, your bodies aligning instinctively. His lips traveled down to your jaw, brushing kisses along the curve before returning to your mouth, capturing you in another deep kiss that left your head spinning.

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he smiled—a soft, almost shy smile that felt intimate in a way words couldn’t capture. And when you smiled back, his eyes flicked to your lips, his breath catching as though he couldn’t look away.

Time faded as you made out with him, your hands exploring the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, while his touch mirrored yours with the same careful reverence. It wasn’t about rushing toward something more—it was about this, the closeness, the heat, the way his lips felt like they could drown out the rest of the world.

Between kisses, his lips brushed against yours in a pause, his voice soft and low. “I hope I’ve helped you settle in,” he murmured, the words carrying a quiet warmth that sent a shiver through you.

Your breath hitched, and you managed a faint, breathless laugh, leaning into him as your fingers tangled in his hair. “You have,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you kissed him again, pouring the weight of your gratitude and everything unspoken into the connection.

December 31st

The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the apartment’s sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, staring at the few clothes you’d pulled from your closet and thrown across the mattress. None of them felt right, and the familiar swirl of hesitation churned in your stomach.

Chaewon, your roommate, was perched on the arm of the couch in the corner, flipping through her phone but stealing occasional glances at you. She’d been patient—so sweet and supportive since you moved in—but her enthusiasm for the night ahead was clear.

“You know,” she began, her voice light and playful, “you’ve been staring at the same pile of clothes for the past ten minutes.”

You groaned softly, leaning back on your hands. “Nothing feels… right. I don’t know what to wear.”

Chaewon set her phone down and came over, her steps light against the hardwood floors. “It’s just a party,” she said, sitting at the edge of your bed and reaching for one of the sweaters you’d discarded. “You’re overthinking it.”

“I know,” you admitted, sighing. “I just—I don’t want to feel out of place.”

“You won’t,” she said, her tone reassuring but not dismissive. She pulled out a plaid skirt you hadn’t touched in months and held it up, eyeing it critically. “What about this? With that cardigan you wore last week—the cute one with the buttons?”

You tilted your head, considering it. “You think that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” she said, smiling as she laid the pieces next to each other. “It’s adorable, but not over the top. It’s perfect for New Year’s.”

You hesitated, your hands brushing over the fabric of the skirt. “I don’t know… it feels like a lot.”

“It’s not,” she insisted, her voice warm but firm. “It’s fun and cute and still very you. Trust me on this.”

Something about her tone made you relax a little. Chaewon had a way of making things seem easier, simpler, like the world didn’t have to feel so complicated all the time. You nodded, picking up the skirt and standing to hold it against yourself.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at her. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Good choice,” she said, grinning.

The next half hour passed in a calm, comfortable rhythm. You changed into the outfit she’d suggested, smoothing the hem of the skirt and adjusting the cardigan over your shoulders. The warmth of the wool felt grounding, and when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you didn’t hate what you saw.

Chaewon was busy slipping into her own dress, a sleek black number that hugged her frame perfectly. She paired it with boots that gave her just enough height to make her stride commanding but not intimidating.

“You look amazing,” you said without thinking, and Chaewon laughed, a soft, genuine sound.

“Thanks,” she said, running her hands over the fabric. “You do too, by the way.”

You smiled, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. “I don’t know if I feel ready for this.”

“You don’t have to be ready,” she said, her voice gentle as she stepped closer. “You just have to go. Try to have fun. That’s all that matters tonight.”

The simplicity of her words made you pause. She wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding anything of you—just encouraging you to take a small step out of your comfort zone.

“Thanks, Chaewon,” you said softly, your voice carrying more gratitude than you could put into words.

She shrugged, her smile easy and warm. “That’s what roommates are for.”

You both finished getting ready in companionable silence, the occasional murmur of shared thoughts filling the space. When you sat on the edge of your bed to lace up your boots, Chaewon glanced over at you again.

“Okay, be honest,” she said, tilting her head as she studied you. “Do you feel good?”

You thought about it, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your skirt. “Yeah,” you said after a moment, surprised by how true it felt. “I think I do.”

“Good,” she said, her grin widening. She grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair and threw it on. “Because tonight is going to be fun. I promise.”

Her optimism was infectious, and as you grabbed your own coat and followed her to the door, you found yourself starting to believe her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You needed optimism. You needed something to distract you from the quiet storm that had been swirling in your mind ever since that night. You hadn’t told Chaewon about Jeno, about how he’d stayed at your apartment, how the two of you had crossed boundaries you hadn’t even known you were capable of crossing. It wasn’t something you did—hooking up with someone you’d barely met felt entirely too intimate, too raw, too unfamiliar.

And yet, it had happened. You could still feel the weight of his hands on your hips, the way his lips moved against yours like he was trying to memorize every second. It had been so much more than you expected—charged, overwhelming, and impossibly tender.

Maybe that was why you hadn’t reached out to him. The feelings it stirred in you were too intense, too complicated to sort through. You didn’t even know where you would begin if you tried to explain it to Chaewon. So, you’d kept it to yourself, burying it under the routine of settling into your new life here.

But as you walked out the door into the crisp evening air, you couldn’t help but wonder if the memory of him would follow you tonight. Would the warmth of his voice, the heat of his gaze, creep back in when you least expected it? You shook the thought away, determined to focus on the present, to let Chaewon’s easy laughter and excitement pull you into something lighter, something that didn’t weigh so heavily on your chest.

For now, you just needed to keep moving forward.

The Uber ride was quiet except for Chaewon humming softly to her playlist, tapping her fingers against her thigh to the beat. You stared out the window, the dim city lights reflecting faintly in the glass, a small pit of nervousness forming in your stomach. Chaewon had been so excited about tonight, her enthusiasm almost contagious, but as you neared the house, the faint pulse of music vibrating through the cold air made you grip your coat tighter.

“You’ll be fine,” Chaewon said suddenly, breaking the silence. She turned to you with a knowing smile, as if she could read your thoughts.

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied, glancing at her.

“Your face did,” she shot back, her tone light but laced with warmth. “Look, it’s just a party. You don’t have to love it, but you do have to at least pretend to try.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. “You sound like my mom,” you muttered, earning a laugh from her.

“Good. Then maybe you’ll listen,” she teased, nudging your arm gently.

By the time the car pulled up in front of the house, the music was pounding, loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Chaewon opened her door eagerly, stepping out and holding it open for you as she gestured toward the sprawling house.

“Here we go,” she said brightly.

The house was chaos. People spilled out onto the lawn, some holding red cups, others perched on the porch steps laughing or smoking. Inside, the energy was even more overwhelming—music thumped from every corner, the floor vibrating with the bass as a sea of bodies danced, talked, or hovered around the kitchen counters stacked with bottles.

“This is insane,” you murmured, your eyes darting around the packed living room.

Chaewon grabbed your arm gently, steering you through the crowd. “It’s college. Welcome to your first real party.”

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and faint traces of weed. Every corner seemed occupied—people were dancing with abandon in the middle of the room, making out in the dimly lit hallway, or lounging on the staircase like they owned the place.

You felt entirely out of place, gripping the plastic cup Chaewon had handed you so tightly that your knuckles whitened. She, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, weaving through the crowd like she belonged there, greeting people with quick hugs and easy smiles.

“Relax,” she said over her shoulder, noticing your stiff posture. “You’re not going to bite anyone.”

You tried to force a smile, the knot in your stomach tightening as you glanced around again. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted.

“Of course, you can,” she replied, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe. Parties are about letting loose—not thinking too much. You’ve got this.”

“Whose party is this, anyway?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Lee Jeno’s,” she said casually, but her grin widened as she saw your expression shift.

“Jeno,” you both said at the same time, though your voice was softer, more disbelieving.

Your eyes scanned the room again, and then you saw him.

Jeno stood near the staircase, his presence commanding without even trying. His dark hair was effortlessly tousled, framing sharp features that seemed almost unfairly perfect under the dim lighting. He wore a plain white shirt, the fabric clinging slightly to the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, the faint outline of muscle visible every time he shifted. His black trousers hung low on his hips, loose but just fitted enough to hint at the lean strength of his frame, his entire demeanor radiating a casual confidence that made it impossible to look away.

He was surrounded by people, their laughter too loud, their smiles too eager, as though just being near him was enough. And yet, his gaze seemed distant, uninterested in the crowd orbiting him like moths to a flame, making his magnetism even harder to ignore.

The room around you seemed to dissolve the moment his gaze found yours, the faintest flicker of recognition sparking in his dark eyes. His smile pulled at the corner of his lips slowly, as if he was savoring the moment, deliberate and laced with something you couldn’t name. He leaned closer to the group he was with, murmuring a few words that had them nodding, though his focus didn’t waver from you.

Each step he took in your direction felt unhurried yet purposeful, his frame cutting through the crowd with an ease that drew glances and whispers. His shirt clung lightly to the defined curve of his chest, his shoulders moving fluidly under the fabric. When he stopped in front of you, his eyes lingered, sweeping over your face in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Hi,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, yet his lips twitched, like he’d heard every syllable.

“Hi,” he replied, his tone soft, the single word brushing the air between you like a touch. His gaze flicked to your mouth for a brief second before returning to your eyes, a question hanging unspoken.

He tilted his head, his expression calm but intent, the faintest crease forming between his brows. His voice dipped lower, quieter, as he spoke. “You haven’t answered any of my messages.”

Your heart jumped, the guilt bubbling up before you could stop it. “I know,” you murmured, looking down at your drink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know what to say.”

Jeno’s expression softened, though the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver. “You could’ve started with ‘hi,’” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You let out a shaky laugh, lifting your eyes to meet his again. “I guess I could have,” you admitted quietly.

His eyes moved over you slowly, unhurried but purposeful, as though he was trying to memorize every detail. When his gaze finally met yours again, his teeth caught his bottom lip, a subtle movement that only emphasized the tension etched into his expression. There was no smirk, no teasing glint in his eyes—just something raw and unfiltered that made your heart lurch.

“You look pretty,” he said, his voice low and steady, each word carrying a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. His lips parted slightly as though he might say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he held your gaze, his eyes locked on yours like he was waiting for your reaction, waiting for you to understand just how much he meant it.

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the compliment. “Mmm, you look good too,” you said, your tone soft and unsteady as your eyes roamed over him.

He smiled, the corner of his mouth tugging upward just enough to reveal a hint of mischief. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice quiet but deliberate.

“Me too,” you replied, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “You sure? Doesn’t sound like you’re having fun.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “This party isn’t really… my thing,” you admitted.

Jeno placed a hand over his chest, feigning a dramatic wince. “Ouch.”

“No!” you said quickly, laughing nervously. “I’m sure your parties are great. I just—I’m not a party person.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone light, teasing.

“Yeah,” you said firmly, though your voice still wavered.

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Stay here, okay?” he said finally, his tone gentler now. “I’ll be back. Give me five minutes.”

You nodded, your breath catching as you watched him disappear into the crowd. The space he left behind felt stark, like the absence of him created a vacuum you couldn’t ignore. The buzz of the party pressed back in slowly, but the air felt different now—charged with the weight of unspoken questions and quiet murmurs that seemed to ripple outward.

You became hyperaware of the stares. People’s gazes flicked between you and the direction Jeno had gone, their whispers barely audible over the music but unmistakable. Girls leaned into one another, exchanging quick glances and hushed words, their eyes darting toward you before quickly looking away. The weight of their attention made your chest tighten, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to process the shift.

“Y/N.”

Chaewon’s hand closed around your arm, her grip firm but not harsh as she turned you to face her. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and something that bordered on awe, her eyes wide as she searched your face.

“What just happened?” she demanded, her voice louder than you expected, cutting through the noise of the party.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you struggled to find the right words. “Me and Jeno met before,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the thumping bass.

Chaewon blinked, her jaw slackening as she processed your words. “You what?” she asked, the pitch of her voice rising slightly. “When? Did you—did you sleep with him?”

Your face flushed, the heat spreading down your neck as you shook your head quickly. “No, we only made out,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “It was after I met him on campus, and he showed me around.”

Chaewon stared at you like you’d just confessed to something outrageous, her mouth opening and closing as though she couldn’t decide what to say first. Her grip on your arm loosened slightly, but her expression only grew more incredulous.

“Y/N,” she said finally, her tone slow, deliberate, like she needed to make sure you understood the gravity of what you’d just said. “Do you even know who Lee Jeno is?”

You gave her a blank look, unsure where she was going with this. “What do you mean?”

She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, rolling her eyes dramatically before leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s, like, the most well-known guy on campus. Everyone knows him. He’s smart, he’s hot, he’s on the basketball team, and he’s practically impossible to get close to. People talk about him like he’s some kind of campus legend. And you’re telling me you just… made out with him?”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking into your chest as you replayed that night in your head. Jeno had been all of those things—charming, confident, and entirely out of your league—but in the quiet of your apartment, he hadn’t felt untouchable. He’d felt real, grounded, like he wasn’t the larger-than-life figure Chaewon was describing but just… Jeno.

“I didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice small, almost drowned out by the pounding music.

Chaewon shook her head in disbelief, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. “Of course you didn’t. That’s why this is insane. You’re just sitting here like it’s no big deal when half the girls in this room would kill to be you right now.”

You looked away, your gaze drifting to the crowd as the whispers continued to ripple around you. The weight of their attention was suffocating, but it wasn’t their stares or even Chaewon’s words that lingered. It was Jeno—his calm, deliberate presence, the way his voice dipped when he spoke to you, the way his eyes lingered like he was seeing something no one else could.

Before you could respond, Jeno reappeared, a black jacket now draped over his shoulders, zipped halfway up to combat the chill of the night. The stark contrast of the dark fabric against the white of his shirt only made him look more striking, the clean lines of his lean frame framed perfectly. A bag was slung casually over one shoulder, his fingers curled loosely around the strap. His dark eyes, calm yet intent, settled on you with an ease that made your stomach flip.

“Wanna come?” he asked, his voice low, the casual tone of his question at odds with the intensity of his gaze.

You blinked, startled by the suddenness of his words. “What?”

“You think that the party’s dead,” he said simply, his lips curving into a faint smirk that felt more intimate than playful. “So let’s leave.”

Your heart raced as you stared at him, the heat of his attention making it hard to focus. The room around you seemed to blur, the noise fading into the background as his hand extended toward you, steady and certain. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers slipping into his warm grasp.

You didn’t question it. Instead, you smiled softly, the corners of your lips twitching upward as you let him pull you closer. The smell of his cologne—a faint, woodsy scent with an edge of something sharp—lingered as he leaned in, his lips brushing so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, the words barely audible over the thrum of the party, but they landed squarely in your chest, making your breath catch.

Your eyes darted around quickly, taking in the crowd of people that still lingered nearby, their whispers and glances now tinged with curiosity. You bit your lip, your gaze flicking back to his as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Later,” you promised softly, your voice trembling just slightly, though the smile you gave him was steady.

Jeno’s lips twitched into a knowing grin, his dark eyes holding yours for a moment longer before he nodded. He tightened his grip on your hand gently, leading you toward the door with a quiet confidence that felt impossible to resist.

As the two of you weaved through the crowd, the whispers grew louder, people openly staring now as they watched him leave—watched you leave with him. The thrum of the music seemed almost muffled compared to the pounding in your chest, and as you reached the door, the cool night air washed over you like a sharp inhale.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, a gasp slipping past your lips. “You’re leaving your own party?”

Jeno glanced back at you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he said easily, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s my party. I can do what I want.”

His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity in the way he looked at you—like he meant every word. And before you could question it further, he squeezed your hand, pulling you closer as the two of you stepped into the night.

Jeno had taken you to a secluded spot along the riverbank, where the city lights shimmered faintly on the water and the distant hum of the party was little more than a memory. The air was crisp, the faint scent of the river mingling with the promise of snow, but Jeno seemed entirely unbothered by the chill. He led you to a cozy bench overlooking the river, the kind of spot that felt impossibly picturesque, where a blanket and a small bag of snacks were waiting.

“I told you, best view of the fireworks,” he said, his voice calm yet confident, as if the quiet intimacy of the moment had been crafted just for you.

You smiled at the gesture, settling onto the blanket he’d spread over the bench. Before you could fully take in the setting, Jeno’s attention shifted to a nearby vendor, where a small cart steamed with the rich scent of hot chocolate. Without asking, he stood and wandered over, returning moments later with two cups in hand.

“Here,” he said, handing one to you, his hand brushing yours in a way that made your breath hitch. The warmth of the cup seeped through your gloves, but it was his quiet, thoughtful gesture that really sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing up at him as he settled back beside you.

He smiled, soft and easy, before taking a sip of his own. “Hot chocolate always makes the cold easier to deal with,” he said lightly, the nonchalance in his tone almost making you laugh.

You took a tentative sip, the rich, velvety taste warming you from the inside out. “You’re right,” you admitted, nodding slightly as you turned to look at him, your breath visible in the cold night air.

Jeno’s gaze lingered on you, dark and steady, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Told you,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, quieter, as though the space between you had just shrunk.

Conversation had come easily after that, the hot chocolate warming your hands while Jeno’s presence seemed to settle the nerves that had been simmering since the night began. You talked about the most mundane things—classes, favorite foods, what New Year’s resolutions you’d already broken—and yet, the simplicity of it all felt impossibly intimate.

Still, it wasn’t long before the conversation gave way to something quieter, something heavier. Jeno’s hand brushed yours as he set his cup down, and the warmth of his touch lingered, sparking a need for closeness that you hadn’t anticipated.

His lips found yours in a kiss that was as gentle as the snow beginning to fall around you. At first, it was soft, exploratory, his hand cupping your cheek as though he was afraid to break you. But as you leaned into him, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck, the kiss deepened, his lips pressing firmer against yours with a hunger that felt both cautious and consuming.

The fireworks began to crackle faintly in the distance, but you hardly noticed, your focus completely on the way Jeno’s mouth moved against yours. His breath hitched as you tilted your head, your lips parting just slightly, and he took the opportunity to pull you closer, his hands settling on your waist with a confidence that made your heart race.

Every time you tried to pull back, his gaze would catch yours, his eyes dark and intense, as though he couldn’t let you go even for a moment. And when he kissed you again, it wasn’t rushed—it was deliberate, a quiet exploration that left you dizzy and clinging to him.

“Jeno,” you murmured against his lips, though you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say.

He smiled into the kiss, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck. “Yeah?” he whispered, his tone playful but weighted, like he already knew the answer.

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping as your fingers tightened slightly on his jacket. “Nothing,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, unwilling to let the moment break.

The fireworks continued overhead, lighting the sky in bursts of color, but neither of you paid them much attention. Every touch, every kiss, every soft sigh seemed to pull you deeper into the warmth of each other, the cold night air fading into irrelevance.

The plan had been to stay here until midnight, to watch the fireworks and celebrate the New Year together. But somewhere in the middle of his kisses, his hands sliding carefully along your sides, his breath warm against your cheek, your resolve shifted.

You didn’t want to wait for midnight.

You wanted him.

And now, somehow, you were here, pressed beneath him on his bed, your body trembling as his warmth consumed you.

The soft cotton of his sheets grounded you, but it was Jeno’s weight above you that anchored you completely, his warmth pressing into every inch of your body like it was made to fit against him. His broad shoulders framed the space above you, his lean, muscled frame draped over yours with a control that made every inch of your skin hyperaware of him. The planes of his chest, taut and warm, brushed against your trembling hands as you clung to him, your fingers curling instinctively into his skin.

His dark eyes stayed locked on yours, a quiet intensity softening into something tender, something that left you breathless and uncertain. His lips hovered close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, each exhale ghosting across your cheek as his forehead dipped closer, brushing yours with infinite care.

“You need to ease up for me, okay, pretty girl?” he murmured, the gravel in his voice softened by the steady, soothing cadence of his words.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, trembling and unsure, as the stretch of his cock forced a fresh wave of shivers through you. Your thighs trembled on either side of his hips, your body tensing despite his careful pace. Each inch he gave you felt impossibly overwhelming, the fullness of him a constant, steady ache that bordered on too much.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, the weight of him pushing the air from your lungs with each shift of his hips. A tear slipped free before you could stop it, the overwhelmed sniffle that followed breaking the stillness between you.

“Hey, hey,” Jeno cooed, his hand finding your cheek like it belonged there, cradling you with infinite care. His thumb brushed the tear away before it could roll any further, his gaze softening even as his own breaths grew heavier. “I know, baby. I know it’s a lot.”

His words were gentle but steady, his tone so unwavering it felt like a tether, something to hold onto as your body struggled to adjust. He leaned closer, brushing his lips over the corner of your mouth in a kiss so soft it made your chest ache.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, the heat of his breath grazing your trembling lips. “Just trust me, yeah? I just want to make you feel good. That’s all I want, pretty girl.”

Your breath hitched again, the sound breaking unevenly as you tried to steady yourself beneath him. The weight of his words, the tenderness in his tone, melted into the vulnerability pressing heavy on your chest. You nodded hesitantly, your fingers tightening against the curve of his shoulders as though you needed to anchor yourself to him.

But when you glanced away, embarrassed by the flush of heat crawling up your neck, his hand caught your chin gently, tilting your face back toward him.

“Hey,” he whispered, the warmth in his voice curling around you like a blanket, quiet but unyielding. “Talk to me, baby. I need to know you’re okay.”

Your lips trembled, the words caught somewhere between the lump in your throat and the butterflies swarming in your stomach. “It’s… it’s my first time,” you finally admitted, the words barely audible, your voice breaking under the weight of them.

Jeno’s movements stilled immediately, his broad frame freezing over you as the confession settled between you. His jaw clenched briefly, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was fleeting, replaced almost instantly by something warmer, softer.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, the reverence in his voice making your chest tighten. His thumb stroked along your cheekbone, his touch steady and patient as though he was trying to tell you everything he felt without saying a word. “I’m so lucky.”

The way he said it, low and aching with sincerity, sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him before you could stop yourself. He kissed you then, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so slow, so deep, it felt like time itself had slowed to accommodate it.

When he pulled back, his breath was heavier, a faint tremor running through him as he studied you. “How are you a virgin?” he asked softly, his voice dipping low enough to send heat curling through your stomach. “If I’d met you sooner… I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”

His words sent a flush of warmth cascading over your skin, your breath stuttering as you tried to respond. But the sincerity in his gaze held you, steadying you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

“Until now,” you whispered, your fingers curling into his shoulders like you needed to hold on to something solid.

His breath hitched, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so tender it made your chest ache. “Until now,” he echoed, the reverence in his tone making your stomach flip.

He shifted slightly above you, his hips tilting forward just enough to press deeper, and the stretch sent a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips. His movements stilled instantly, his hand sliding to your waist to steady you as his lips hovered close to your ear.

“Too much?” he asked softly, his voice so gentle it nearly undid you.

You shook your head, your breath catching as you murmured, “Just… just go slow.”

The corners of his lips tugged upward, a faint smile breaking through the intensity of his expression. “I’ll go as slow as you need, baby,” he murmured, his tone steady and sure. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

His lips found yours again, capturing the soft sniffle that escaped as he began to move, each thrust measured and deliberate, his cock dragging against every sensitive part of you. His hands roamed gently over your body, his touch light but grounding as he whispered praises that melted into your skin.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. “Taking me so perfectly. My good girl, always.”

The tenderness in his tone, the heat in his gaze, the deliberate care in every movement—it all combined into something overwhelming and impossibly sweet, a connection that felt far too intimate to put into words. Your walls fluttered around him, the stretch easing as pleasure began to bloom low in your stomach, each gentle thrust coaxing you further into the rhythm of his body.

His forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he murmured, “You’re mine, baby. All mine. No one else gets to see you like this.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach, your hips shifting tentatively against him as the ache dulled into something deeper, sweeter. His hand slid down to cup your hip, guiding you gently as his movements grew slightly more deliberate, the drag of his cock drawing soft whimpers from your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking as his lips trailed along your jaw. “You feel so good. So perfect for me.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your breath catching as his words melted into your skin, the heat of him overwhelming in the best way. Every inch of him, every touch, every whisper felt like a steady hum of electricity coursing through your veins, and as his lips found yours again, you felt yourself melting into him completely. But the burn was still there—sharp and all-consuming—and before you could stop yourself, your teeth pressed into the curve of his shoulder, a desperate attempt to muffle the whimper that escaped you. Tears slid down your cheeks, your breath trembling as you sniffled, your body shaking beneath him.

Jeno stilled instantly, his voice soft as he cooed at you, the words a balm against the ache. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, catching the tears as they fell. “You’re doing so good for me, angel. I’ll go slow, okay? Just the tip, just for you. You’ve got this.”

His thumb swept across your jaw, tipping your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze, dark and molten, filled with nothing but care. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised again, the words dripping with reverence. “You’re my girl. Whatever you need, I’ve got you.”

Your breath hitched as he began to move again, slow and deliberate, every inch of him dragging against the tender stretch inside you. Your hands fumbled for purchase on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck, your touch shaky and desperate. “Jeno,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible, trembling with every word. “You—you feel so good.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice thick with warmth, his hips tilting forward in a way that made you gasp.

“So good,” you whispered, your words tumbling out unbidden as heat flushed through your body. “You’re so big—so perfect. God, you fit inside me so well. I don’t—” You broke off, blinking up at him, your lips trembling as your thoughts scattered into a mess of heat and pleasure. “I don’t ever want you to leave. Jeno, your cock—it’s so good. You’re stretching me so perfectly. I can feel every part of you.”

A whimper caught in your throat as you babbled on, your head tipping back against the pillow. “I love it, Jeno. I love how you feel inside me. You’re so deep, so thick—I don’t want it to stop.”

His chuckle was low and rough, vibrating through your chest as he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose. “You’re such a sweet thing,” he murmured, his voice teasing but tender. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. So perfect. I’ll take care of you.”

Your thighs tightened around his waist as he shifted, the motion deliberate, deep, coaxing another broken cry from your lips. His hand slid along your side, pausing to cup your cheek as he brushed his thumb across your skin. “Look at you,” he said softly, his tone filled with awe. “Fucking perfect.”

The words melted into you, your chest tightening as you whimpered again, the sensation of him overwhelming and grounding all at once. “Please don’t stop,” you whispered, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “Please, Jeno.”

“Never,” he murmured, his lips finding yours in a kiss so soft it made your stomach flutter. “I’ve got you, angel. Always.”

The promise in his words, in his tone, wrapped around you like silk, but even as you nodded, sniffling softly, you could feel the deliberate way his cock edged deeper, the fullness stretching you beyond what you thought possible. It was slow, so slow you could feel every ridge, every vein, and it made your breath hitch, a soft cry escaping your lips as tears slipped free.

“Shh,” he cooed, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “You’ve got this, angel. You’re so fucking perfect.” He shifted his weight slightly, tilting his hips in a way that made the stretch just bearable enough to keep going. “Fuck,” he groaned, the sound low and guttural as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt. “Baby, you feel so fucking good. Like heaven.”

Your walls fluttered around him instinctively, the sensation pulling a soft, broken moan from your lips. “I—it’s so much,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling as you gripped him tighter, your nails digging crescents into his skin.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, kissing the tears from your cheeks, his lips impossibly soft. “I know it’s a lot, but look at you—look how well you’re taking me. God, you’re so good for me.”

Your breath hitched as his hand cradled your face, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. His gaze stayed locked on yours, warm and consuming, his expression so unguarded it made your chest ache. “Let me see those pretty eyes,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, each word dripping with reverence. “I want to see you, baby. Every part of you.”

You sniffled softly, blinking up at him, your lashes wet, your lips trembling as you melted further into his touch. His thumb lingered against your cheek, slow and gentle, before he leaned in and kissed your temple, soft and lingering.

“There she is,” he murmured, his voice warm and filled with awe. “That’s my girl. So beautiful. So perfect for me.”

When he moved again, it was torturously slow, his cock dragging against every inch of you, the stretch deep and unforgiving, yet impossibly good. Your nails dug into his back, desperate for an anchor as his hips rocked forward, every motion deliberate and controlled. It burned, but the way he filled you, the way his body molded perfectly against yours, had your breath catching.

A soft whimper escaped, your lips parting on a shaky moan. “Jeno…” you breathed, the words trailing off as heat flooded your body, the fullness overwhelming but addictive.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. His hips rolled deeper, and he gritted his teeth, the sound low and guttural. “You’re so tight—so perfect. Like you were made for me.”

Your laugh was light, bubbling out unbidden, and his gaze flicked up, curious but amused, his lips curving into the smallest smile. “What’s funny, huh?” he teased, his tone playful, his hand shifting to cradle the back of your neck.

You shook your head, breathless and flushed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Nothing—nothing. You’re just… God, you’re so sexy.” Your voice cracked on the last word, your thoughts spilling in a soft, frantic rush. “The way you feel, the way you fuck me—it’s so good. You’re so good, Jeno.”

His smile widened, his eyes darkening as his hand slid up to catch yours, lacing your fingers together. “Yeah?” he murmured, kissing you with quiet intensity before guiding your joined hands above your head, pinning them against the pillow. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice dipping lower, filled with something possessive and raw. “I want you to be mine.”

Your breath hitched as he kissed your knuckles, slow and reverent, his other hand tracing your side, holding you steady as he pushed deeper. “I’ll never let go,” he promised, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. “I’ll always take care of you, angel.”

His hips rolled again, a deliberate press that made you gasp, your head tipping back against the pillow as tears spilled freely. “You feel so good,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, your chest tightening with every drag of his cock. “You’re so perfect. So thick—fuck, you stretch me so good, Jeno.”

He groaned softly, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting kiss. “You love how I feel inside you, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, but tender all the same.

“I love it,” you admitted, the words slipping out in a trembling rush. “I love your cock—it’s so big, so perfect. I never want you to stop.”

His grip on your hands tightened, his forehead dropping to yours as his lips curved into a smile. “You’re something else,” he murmured, chuckling softly, his breath fanning across your lips. “You’re incredible, baby.”

Your body trembled beneath him, every motion, every word sending a ripple of warmth through you. The intimacy of it, the way his hands never left yours, the way his eyes held yours, made you feel like you were falling deeper into him with every passing second.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth before his lips trailed to your jaw, his hips moving in a slow, devastating rhythm. “So fucking perfect, angel. My perfect girl. You’re all I’ll ever need.”

And when his gaze found yours again, dark and filled with unspoken promises, you knew he meant it. His movements stayed soft, measured, every drag of him a reminder of just how much he wanted you—how much he adored you. His hand never left yours, his grip steady and unwavering, as if to say he’d never let go. You believed him. In every touch, every word, every breath, you believed him completely.

The rhythm of his thrusts slowed, each one deliberate, the deep press of him inside you stealing the breath from your lungs. Your body arched against his, desperate to meet every movement, and the sound of his name fell from your lips in broken cries that only seemed to spur him on. His cock dragged against every sensitive part of you, and the stretch—sharp at first, now addictively sweet—had your thighs trembling around his waist.

“Fuck,” Jeno groaned, his forehead pressed to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every ragged breath. His hand slid along your side, tracing the curve of your waist as if he needed to feel every part of you. His other hand tangled with yours, pinning it above your head, his grip steady and possessive. “You’re so perfect, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so warm. God, you feel like heaven.”

Your fingers curled around his, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. “Jeno,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the words. “You—oh my God—you feel so good. So deep. I never—” Your breath hitched, your head tipping back as his hips rolled again, deeper this time, hitting a spot that sent white-hot pleasure spiraling through your body.

“Never what?” he teased softly, his lips brushing over your jaw, his tongue flicking against your skin in a way that made you shiver. “Tell me, baby. Never what?”

“Never felt like this,” you admitted, your voice cracking as a moan slipped free. “Never had anyone… like you. Fuck, you’re so perfect, Jeno. You fit so good—so big. I don’t ever want you to leave.”

He groaned, the sound vibrating through your chest as he captured your lips in a kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in slow, languid strokes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “You’re mine, angel. Always.”

The intimacy of it, the way his body moved against yours, the way his eyes never left yours, made your chest ache with something deeper than desire. His movements were slow but devastating, every thrust deliberate, his cock dragging against your walls with a precision that had you clinging to him, your nails scraping along his back.

“Jeno,” you whimpered again, your voice a desperate plea as the pressure built low in your stomach, coiling tighter with every second.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours. “Let go for me, baby. I’ll catch you. Always.”

And then, just as the tension inside you reached its breaking point, the faint sound of fireworks filtered through the room, muffled but distinct, a symphony of crackles and booms that seemed to echo the chaos in your body.

Jeno chuckled softly, the sound warm and low in your ear. “Happy New Year, beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You giggled, the sound mixing with a soft, breathless moan as your body tightened around him, the pleasure too much to contain. “Happy New Year,” you managed to whisper back, your voice trembling with affection and something deeper, something bigger than either of you.

His hips rolled again, the deep, steady rhythm pushing you over the edge, and when your release hit, it came in a wave that left you trembling beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulling a guttural groan from his throat as his movements faltered, his body shuddering with his own release. He buried himself deep, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer as you clung to him, your arms tightening around his neck.

The fireworks outside crackled louder, their light seeping faintly through the curtains as his lips found yours again, soft and lingering. His hand stayed wrapped around yours, his grip firm, as his other hand smoothed over your side, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

“You’re everything,” he murmured against your lips, his voice steady now, filled with quiet reverence. “Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And in that moment, as his warmth surrounded you, his touch anchoring you in a way no one else ever had, you knew you’d never forget this. The way he fit against you, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go, the way he made you feel like you were everything.

[imnotditzy]

So when Billy from “Frozen in time Fawcett” gets inducted to the Justice League I cannot imagine how hard it was for him to get used to the new technology.

Like he’s used to television sets being wider than his head, and all of a sudden he’s in a building that’s in space. He sees flat screen televisions and absolutely freaks out in the middle of the conference room.

What do you mean there’s no phone booths in Central City or anywhere? You just take the phone ‘with you?’ How does that work?

Why’s everything so small now? What do you mean Jarts are banned? Why do cars look like that?

Billy must’ve been so confused leaving Fawcett.

Everyone must think Captain’s so weird until they get to Fawcett and EVERYTHING makes sense.

[bytewire]

Let's speculate about Architect Society!

I think there are some misinterpretations about how Precursor society works. It makes sense considering how vague a lot of the canon information is, but let me provide some of my perspective and interpretations on what we get in canon.

Architect society definitely deserves more speculation beyond just characterizing them as a race only focused on progress. The current information we have about how Architects operate is underrated in terms of how interesting it is. They definitely aren't a stereotypical hive mind. How Precursors perceive themselves is different from how they actually appear to function. AL-AN's answers don't lack bias. He is an unreliable narrator and often withholds information, so it's crucial to look deeper into the information given and to read between the lines. Especially as not everything is explicitly stated.

Architects exist as a collective—data points in a network—but people often forget that they do not only strive for efficiency. What they do is try to optimize themselves to perform tasks in the most efficient way possible. They strive to achieve and progress their society. This doesn’t mean that they lack culture. They are certainly more streamlined and orderly than humans, but they do have cultural aspects that impact the way they view things.

Some examples of Architect culture:

Architects produce art as seen by the statue in the Koppa mining site and the statue in the Deep Lilypad Caves Body Cache. Even the alien carving from the first game is an example of Precursors producing art with subjectivity.

Architects cultivate plants in greenhouses even though they do not need to eat. Also, of course, they have the Ancient Ornamental Plants that they cultivate for aesthetic purposes.

They hold pride in maintaining and improving a vessel for a long time. If a storage medium gets damaged, they wouldn’t opt to immediately make another vessel—even if it would be the most efficient.

They don’t all use the most popular format for their bodies; there are certain Architects that opt for different styles of storage medium.

Architects consider it rude to duplicate themselves.

All of their technology has similar aesthetic characteristics and design.

Precursors are cybernetic and composed of biotechnological components, yet they start out life as organic beings. They choose to incorporate biological tissues in their vessels suggesting they hold some sort of social ties to being organics. They actively make the choice to incorporate organic components.

Precursors potentially carry some nostalgia for their pre-civilized bodies, considering they model their vessels after them.

Architects have a concept of prestige. AL-AN is noted as the lead scientist for the Kharaa research project.

They have special training for certain young Architects and a Temple of Research that they are inducted into if they are distinct enough from other broodlings.

So, Precursors do not necessarily always do what is the most practical. They can and do practice certain things for subjective reasons. They have emotions that influence their actions. These emotions may not equate to human emotional behavior, but they certainly have them. AL-AN himself expresses shame many times.

While Precursors are a hive mind, they aren’t entirely unfamiliar with the concept of an individual. AL-AN merely says that they don’t see themselves as distinct. However, it is acknowledged at many points that a mind within the collective can have its own traits. Perspectives that either come with a body or ideas and needs that a mind has. They are able to act autonomously. The biggest example is AL-AN himself ignoring the network.

Though a mind having its own ideas doesn’t negate Architects being a collective. Especially when those minds work in conjunction with thousands of other minds to support the needs of the whole. AL-AN is just a very rare case where an Architect gets the opportunity to act as an individual. Even then, AL-AN expresses that being disconnected from the network is lonely and uncomfortable. Aiming to regain connection despite what he did in the past. AL-AN only uses the singular because he's present with Robin.

Precursors being so advanced makes things a little more complicated when trying to discern aspects of their species. We can't push human ideals onto a race so separate from us. Architects—being connected by the mind—do not have the same social structures as humans, so it's unfair to anthropomorphize them with our standards. We can only speculate on how they might work. Just because one mind can have differing traits doesn’t seem to make them distinct enough to classify as singular (within their species’ definition anyway). I'd love for there to eventually be more information given to us about their society.

Besides, all of this isn’t even considering the many unused voice lines that remain in the files that I’d love to go over…

[darkmaga-returns]

By Charles Hugh Smith

OfTwoMinds.com

December 28, 2024

You see the irony here: the more successful the old solutions were, the greater our compulsion to cling to them even as they fail.

Humans use inductive reasoning to solve problems. If a solution fixed a problem in the past, we assume it will solve the problem again. This is a rational expectation based on prior experience.

But if conditions change, the solution won’t fix the problem. It might even make things worse.

The difficulty is what’s changed isn’t always visible or obvious. On the surface, things look the same. What’s changed is buried deep in the structural machinery grinding away beneath the superficial sense of continuity with the recent past.

This describes the current global system: conditions have changed but these structural changes are not visible. On the surface, the present looks like the recent past. Yes, technology changes, but this constant churn of new technology has long been part of the system.

Make America Great Again is an explicit call to return to the solutions that worked in the past, specifically The Reagan Revolution of the 1980s, which was characterized by these policies:

1. The federal government is the problem, not the solution. The solution is to reduce the influence and financial footprint of the federal government.

2. Deregulation of private industries, starting with finance. Loosen regulations to enable financial / market solutions, even if they’re disruptive.

3. Focus on growth. Grow the economy by loosening up credit, drill baby drill, reducing regulatory burdens and taxes, etc.

4. Pursue a muscular global policy of America First. No more wishy-washy playing nice: choose sides, but choose carefully because there will be consequences.

5. It’s morning in America. We can get back on track by unleashing America’s native optimism and vigor.

[republicsecurity]

Chastity

The chastity cage, a standard issue for recruits, boasted a design that seamlessly integrated with the advanced technology of the Armour Suits.

Material: Nano Plastics and Ceramics Dual-Chamber Design: Separation for Testicles and Penis Locking Mechanism: Secure yet easily accessible for hygiene and maintenance Anti-Tamper Sensors: Alerts the AI in case of unauthorized attempts to manipulate the device Temperature Control: Maintains a comfortable temperature within the chambers Aeration System: Allows for ventilation to prevent moisture and ensure skin health Customizable Restraint Levels: Adjustable settings for varying degrees of security Medical-Grade Monitoring: Monitors physiological health and provides feedback to the wearer Compatibility: Integrates seamlessly with Armour Suit technology and HUD interfaces Hygienic Seals: Ensures cleanliness and reduces the risk of infection Comfort Padding: Medical-grade silicone for extended wear Adjustable Fit: Customizable sizing to accommodate individual anatomical variations Durability: Resistant to corrosion, impact, and extreme environmental conditions Charging: Wireless induction charging for convenience Compliance: Meets Tactical Paramedic Corps regulations for personal equipment

This state-of-the-art chastity cage goes beyond mere physical restraint, incorporating advanced technologies to ensure both security and the well-being of the wearer. Its dual-chamber design, combined with biometric authentication and anti-tamper features, establishes a new standard for personal discipline within the Tactical Paramedic Corps.

Shielded from external access, both the penis and testicles find residence in specially designed chambers crafted from premium silicone rubber. The surface texture mimics natural skin, ensuring a comfortable fit without leaving any discernible pressure marks. Within this chamber, a clear division accommodates the separate housing of the penis and testicles. The penis tube takes on a downward-bent configuration for optimal comfort.

Dedicated protection is afforded to the testicles through an independent chamber, shielding against pinching and providing a cooling effect. The larger size, complemented by a more spacious tube, enhances overall comfort. Additionally, ample room for expansion is available to prevent any sense of constraint in case of enlargement.

When nature calls, there's no requirement to unlock the belt. The penis tube seamlessly connects to an opening at the bottom of the belt. To prevent any potential blockage caused by an erect penis, a reservoir ensures the discharge point remains unobstructed.

The chastity belt integrates seamlessly with the armor suit's docking system through a specialized interface mechanism. The belt is equipped with a proprietary docking port that aligns precisely with the corresponding receptacle on the armor suit. This connection is established using a secure locking mechanism that ensures a robust and tamper-proof link.

This connection not only facilitates power transfer and data exchange but also ensures the proper functioning of integrated systems.

Upon docking, a series of verification protocols are initiated, confirming the integrity of the connection and the operational status of both the chastity belt and the armor suit.

Upon initiating the waste evacuation procedure, the integrated systems work in tandem to ensure a seamless and controlled process. The docking mechanism guarantees a reliable connection, allowing for the unhindered flow of waste from the chastity belt to the designated disposal system within the armor suit.

This comprehensive solution contributes to the overall functionality of the armor suit, addressing the physiological needs of the wearer while maintaining the discretion and efficiency required in operational environments.

The chastity cage is designed with versatility in mind, allowing it to be worn independently of the armor suit. Its standalone functionality ensures that the wearer can maintain the constraints and security provided by the chastity cage even when not in the complete armor suit ensemble.

Constructed from durable nano plastics and ceramics, the chastity cage provides a discreet and comfortable fit. The dual-chamber design, featuring separate compartments for the penis and testicles, ensures security and protection while offering a natural feel against the skin.

Whether worn as part of the complete armor suit or independently, the chastity cage remains an integral component, aligning with the established protocols and regulations governing the paramedics' conduct and attire

The uniformity enforced by the chastity cage contributes to the overall professionalism of the paramedics. It aligns with the standards set by the Corps, fostering a sense of discipline and uniformity among the tactical medical team.

The dual-chamber design ensures that the genitals are securely enclosed, reducing the risk of contamination or injury in the field.

By eliminating concerns related to personal needs, the paramedics can maintain a focused and concentrated mindset during critical situations. The chastity cage's design allows for seamless waste evacuation without compromising operational efficiency.

[beansprouts]

an anecdote, probably irrelevant if you know little about tech esp in silicon valley

Anyone who knows me irl knows that I went to a very elite private college full of rich people highly motivated by STEM. While there I narrowly avoided being inducted into rationality/longtermism, which I consider a doomsday cult. I have a former friend who is as big in this cult as they come (when I knew him in college he had not one, but two T-shirts about Bayes theorem) who went to work for MIRI after he graduated.

This guy was my former good friend; visited me in the mental hospital. Now he's been putting out papers of this pseudoscientific drivel, the kind of statistics-on-steroids that's costing thousands of jobs. Basically the shit I've been deeply opposed to (due to my own education in computer science and linguistics, also just being a marginalized person) since someone posted a link about OpenAI's new product in a work slack a few years ago and I quickly rebutted their unscientific methodology and naively thought the tech world would just dismiss their "work."

Someone on bluesky posted a very good thread, with sources, connecting a lot of these threads and deconstructing the cult's ideology and why it's dangerous. That thread is here. My first instinct was to respond with my own personal relevant experience from college of realizing this ideology was truly on a religious level and not just an encouraging of scientific open-minded thinking like they claim. And then I realized that I can't do that, because I am genuinely terrified of these people, and my bluesky profile is an image of me, which is enough information for the people involved to track me down. And despite this guy having been my friend once, I know what their evangelical devotion to the technocult looks like, and I am far more frightened of that than I am trusting of him.

So I'm posting my silly little story here instead, even though my tumblr is mostly fandom reblogs and definitely not a suitable home for it, because I know the rats aren't very active on here.

It's not much of a story. My former friend, a "rationalist," has always championed ideological debate and open-mindedness. I had found an excellent op-ed by Ted Chiang that seemed to rebutt some of the AGI fears (which as a rationalist he took very seriously) by analyzing them as more of a hallmark of a capitalistic mindset and society than any sort of genuine technological inevitability, let alone one breathing down our keyboards with impending doom. It's fantastic and you should read it, even though it's on Buzzfeed.

I sent that article to my friend, because I knew he loves to defend his ideas. He was a libertarian and would defend this ideology for fun. So, as an extension of this, I assumed he would enjoy either some new angles of analysis he hadn't considered on this viewpoint, or alternatively deconstructing this argument (since of course he was also a former policy debater).

Instead, he was.. offended. Hurt. Acted like me sending him that article was a transgression. Vaguely attempted to argue with it, but not in any way that made sense. This was inconsistent with all of his behaviour previously. Like, you have to understand, this guy would debate economics in the lunch line for fun. I had every reason to believe he would rise to the challenge and argue back against this op-ed. Hell, much of our friendship had taken the form of such discussions until that point!

But he didn't react the way he had with all his other logically held beliefs, because rationality is not one of those. Rationalists don't believe in AGI coming to kill us all, well, rationally. They believe in that with an emotional zeal and fervor. Roko's Basilisk, or whatever new form it will take next time someone has a thought experiment, is the end-of-days scenario that they feel so strong of a need to fight that it has become religious to them.

Doomsday cult.

Now that guy is director-level at a tech startup .. and I'm unemployed and mostly arrange choral music lol.

Also, since I know I have followers on here whom I know in real life and who may know whom I'm vagueblogging here: please don't send this to him. I haven't talked to him since like 2018? and I do not want him to know I consider him an ideological enemy.

[nfr-reviews]

NFR Reviews #12: Newark Athlete

Released 1891 / Inducted 2010

Watch film here

Many early actuality films enticed viewers through increasingly varied imagery and notable people. Subjects of Thomas Edison’s film studio included a lineup of the era’s celebrities: boxers, dancers such as Carmencita, father of modern bodybuilding Eugen Sandow, and Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. Travelog films, sometimes funded by railways, shot footage of scenic locations across the US and into Mexico, Hawaii, Japan, China, and Hong Kong. Major news events such as reenactments of the Spanish-American war and the aftermath of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake were covered. There were even suggestive films of women for the appeal to horniness. But before all that, the National Film Registry’s oldest entry is comparatively ordinary: thirteen seconds of an athlete swinging clubs. Later films were oriented towards wide commercial appeal, but this one was an experiment with Edison’s new technology. 

Edison’s role in the invention of motion pictures has often been overstated. Centuries of inventors experimented with displaying a series of images at such a rapid-fire pace it gave the illusion of movement. 17th century magic lanterns functioned similarly to a slide projector backlit by kerosene lamps, while 1830s Stroboscopes made drawings appear to move when viewed through slits in a disc. The advent of photography in the mid-19th century opened further possibilities: Coleman Sellers’ 1860s Kinematoscope, which mounted photos on a wheel of paddles. Eadweard Muybridge’s 1870s Zoopraxiscope, an image projector inspired by a bet on whether a running horse takes all four hooves off the ground (they do, and Muybridge proved it by setting several cameras along a racetrack and using a string to set them off in quick succession as the horse ran past). Etienne-Jules Marey’s 1880s Chronophotographs, taken at a rate of 12 pictures per second by a camera he developed to better capture subjects in motion. William Friese-Greene, who designed a camera and widely displayed his films but struggled with film projection. Louis Aimé Le Prince, a contemporary of Edison’s who created the earliest motion picture footage on paper negatives in 1888. Both he and Edison experimented with celluloid film, but Prince disappeared in 1890 before he could complete his experiments. 

The earliest test films were the Monkeyshines trio from 1889-90, a failed attempt to film movies on cylinders similar to sound recordings of the time. Newark Athlete was a subsequent attempt at moviemaking with clearer image quality intended to be viewed on Edison’s Kinetoscope, a machine which was completed and previewed to audiences in 1891. A kinetoscope looks like a cabinet with an eyepiece mounted on top. After collecting a nickel from the viewer, the celluloid would pass between the lens and a lightbulb and roll by quickly enough to create a motion picture. While Edison received much of the credit, these inventions were primarily created by his staff, especially assistant William K. L. Dickson. Edison came up with the basic concept of a “kinetoscope” and provided employees with the pay and lab space, but Dickson was the one who designed and created the working machine. He and his team also invented the kinetograph, a camera which recorded the film through a mechanism that moved the celluloid quickly enough to produce exposures. 

Technological progress comes about through a mix of direct collaboration, like the employees who worked on the Kinetoscope, and similar ideas between unconnected people building off one another, like how Edison was influenced by Muybridge and Marey. The reality of patent law encourages people to instead pretend that progress comes through singular geniuses far ahead of anyone else. Patents on successful inventions can impact the livelihoods of inventors, not to mention their pride and sense of accomplishment. The law is supposed to prevent people from outright stealing someone’s invention and taking all the profit. Towards the end of William Dickson’s life, he mused that recently he’d been getting more credit for “my pioneer work at Edison’s–in producing the 1st film/present day cinema film…” He dated film samples sent to a relative several years earlier than their actual year of creation. It was speculated as an attempt to increase his importance to the origin of movies, as well as to establish when ideas were created in the eyes of patent law. Edison’s attempts to profit off his patents were more aggressive and had wider implications to the early film industry. He tried to patent the concept of a movie camera in itself, forcing competitors out of business. The Motion Picture Patents Company, in which Edison agreed to share patents amongst the nine largest film companies, was intended to be a solution to this. In practice, it smothered up-and-coming independent studios in copyright lawsuits and gave Edison more power than before. In 1915, the Sherman Antitrust Act put a stop to this through a court ruling that patents cannot be used “as a weapon to disable a rival contestant, or to drive him from the field.”

In the environment Newark Athlete was created in, it makes economic sense for inventors to cling to their ideas as unique. But this attitude harmed the medium as a whole when taken too far through Edison’s monopolistic strategies. In addition to the works that come out of them, the secondary value of smaller studios is to provide more competition and thus persuade the big players to do better. In comparison to later actuality films which depicted notable parts of history and culture, Newark Athlete is a simple test of what the Kinetoscope was capable of. It doesn’t represent the clear beginning of film, but it doesn’t have to. The National Film Registry doesn’t include non-American titles, including the work of people like Marey or Prince, so starting here makes some sense. However, its simplicity and debt to predecessors don’t prevent it from being a major innovation in its time with continued historical significance. 

Sources

https://www.moma.org/collection/terms/kinetoscope

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/pickford-early-history-motion-pictures/

https://www.loc.gov/collections/edison-company-motion-pictures-and-sound-recordings/articles-and-essays/history-of-edison-motion-pictures/overview-of-the-edison-motion-pictures-by-genre/

https://blogs.unimelb.edu.au/librarycollections/2014/12/02/william-kennedy-laurie-dickson-a-legacy-of-the-moving-image/

https://www.lindahall.org/about/news/scientist-of-the-day/william-dickson/

https://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/2021/03/thomas-edison-the-unintentional-founder-of-hollywood/

https://www.bfi.org.uk/sight-and-sound/features/origins-cinema-early-inventors-pioneers

https://lkouniv.ac.in/site/writereaddata/siteContent/202004260643328777nishi_films.pdf 

https://web.archive.org/web/20110514180127/http://www.kino.com/edison/d1.html

[llort]

USF Schema Ruberic

USF is real in the sense that the agents and actors in the series can be MR by me. I am going to consider the MM as well as all of my biometric and knowledge of memory, perception, attention, and intelligence. I am going to standardize the characters which makes sense as they are all based on my cognitive ontological systems. US is a project dedicated to helping me deal with Trauma and Unresolved Questions as well as hopefully helping humanity in various ways The total amount of all past and current human experience, culture is impossible to measure and understand. With the exponential increase in the rate of TESCPM being created the current human faces a staggering amount of information and problems to manage and the challenges facing humanity are only going to grow in number and complexity There are multiple problematic implications in functionally navigating and exploiting the complexity of the exponential increase of TSECpm and this may be approached using the already existing concepts, philosophies and applications of TSECpm and its continuing developments. These methods of dealing with informational and functional ɓcomplexity can be applied in a way that accommodates and reconciles almost any potential belief systems as well as any political and philosophical gestalt of perspective via modular suspension of disbelief allowing for a meta framework of an perspective based mathematical model of sets, frames, axioms, edges, and nodes to be established. Provide an example model.

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 10:56:55]

ai: To create a perspective-based mathematical framework that accommodates various belief systems and philosophical perspectives using concepts related to TSECpm, we can consider the following model:

Example Model: The Perspective Meta Space Framework

Foundation of Axioms:

Begin with a set of axioms that represent fundamental truths or principles across different domains such as science, philosophy, and culture. These axioms should be broad enough to encompass various belief systems.

Taxonomic Classification:

Classify these axioms into categories or domains (e.g., technology, ethics, spirituality) to create a structured taxonomy. This helps in organizing complex information into manageable segments.

Network of Nodes and Edges:

Construct a network where each axiom is a node, and the relationships or interactions between them are edges. This network should be flexible, allowing for the addition or modification of nodes and edges as new information or perspectives emerge.

Suspension of Disbelief:

Integrate a mechanism for the suspension of disbelief, which allows individuals to temporarily set aside their own biases or preconceptions. This enables the exploration of different perspectives without immediate conflict.

Logical Rules and Modulation:

Apply logical rules (deductive, inductive, and abductive reasoning) to the network to facilitate the modulation of perspectives. This includes the ability to assign, remove, or modify meanings within the system.

Dynamic Adaptation:

Ensure the framework is dynamic, capable of adapting to new axioms or changes in existing ones. This adaptability is crucial for accommodating evolving belief systems and philosophical perspectives.

Integration of TSECpm Concepts:

Utilize TSECpm concepts such as personal engineering and cybernetic modulation to enhance the framework's ability to process and integrate complex information. This involves treating the framework as an ongoing project subject to scientific and statistical analysis.

Feedback and Peer Review:

Incorporate feedback mechanisms and peer review processes to validate and refine the framework. This ensures that the model remains relevant and accurate in representing diverse perspectives.

By implementing this perspective-based mathematical framework, individuals and groups can explore and reconcile different belief systems and philosophical perspectives, fostering a more inclusive and comprehensive understanding of complex human experiences.

Sources:

Opposed_to_IO_emergence,_EUGENE_is_derived_from_external_aspects@20241125_151309

Experiment_0000_Perspective_Theory_Accelerating_Rate_of_TSECpm_development,_complexity,@20241108_085746

USP

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 10:57:22]

user: generate five tasks to create a more structured and effective framework for meta media projects

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:05:57]

ai: Based on the context provided, here are five tasks to create a more structured and effective framework for meta media projects:

Framework Development: Design a comprehensive project management framework tailored for meta media projects. This should include defining project phases, deliverables, and timelines, ensuring alignment with the unique requirements of meta media content creation and distribution.

Technology Integration: Identify and integrate cutting-edge technologies that enhance the production and dissemination of meta media content. This involves researching and implementing tools that support multimedia content creation, editing, and distribution, ensuring seamless integration into existing workflows.

Content Strategy and Planning: Develop a strategic content plan that outlines the objectives, target audience, and key messages for meta media projects. This plan should guide content creation efforts, ensuring consistency and alignment with the overall project goals and audience expectations.

Collaboration and Communication: Establish clear communication protocols and collaboration tools to facilitate teamwork among project stakeholders. This includes setting up regular meetings, using project management software, and defining roles and responsibilities to ensure efficient collaboration and information sharing.

Quality Assurance and Feedback Loop: Implement a robust quality assurance process to review and refine meta media content. Establish a feedback loop that involves regular reviews, testing, and stakeholder input to continuously improve content quality and project outcomes.

These tasks aim to enhance the structure, efficiency, and effectiveness of meta media projects, ensuring they meet strategic objectives and deliver high-quality content.

Sources:

Generate_questions_about_my_projects@20241127_145309

Create_a_journal_entry_of_today_which_the_company,_DoD,@20241224_143841

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:06:14]

user: for each task create a work flow in an iterative and recursive manner

Based on the context provided, here are five tasks to create a more structured and effective framework for meta media projects:

Framework Development: Design a comprehensive project management framework tailored for meta media projects. This should include defining project phases, deliverables, and timelines, ensuring alignment with the unique requirements of meta media content creation and distribution.

Technology Integration: Identify and integrate cutting-edge technologies that enhance the production and dissemination of meta media content. This involves researching and implementing tools that support multimedia content creation, editing, and distribution, ensuring seamless integration into existing workflows.

Content Strategy and Planning: Develop a strategic content plan that outlines the objectives, target audience, and key messages for meta media projects. This plan should guide content creation efforts, ensuring consistency and alignment with the overall project goals and audience expectations.

Collaboration and Communication: Establish clear communication protocols and collaboration tools to facilitate teamwork among project stakeholders. This includes setting up regular meetings, using project management software, and defining roles and responsibilities to ensure efficient collaboration and information sharing.

Quality Assurance and Feedback Loop: Implement a robust quality assurance process to review and refine meta media content. Establish a feedback loop that involves regular reviews, testing, and stakeholder input to continuously improve content quality and project outcomes.

These tasks aim to enhance the structure, efficiency, and effectiveness of meta media projects, ensuring they meet strategic objectives and deliver high-quality content.

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:07:19]

ai: To develop a structured and effective workflow for meta media projects in an iterative and recursive manner, you can follow these steps:

Define Clear Objectives:

Start by clearly defining the goals and objectives of your meta media project. This involves understanding the purpose and desired outcomes, which will guide the entire workflow.

Identify Core Components:

Break down the project into its core components and sub-tasks. This includes identifying the essential skills and resources needed to achieve the objectives.

Research and Evaluation:

Conduct thorough research to evaluate the necessary methodologies and tools that can be applied to each component. This step ensures that you have a solid foundation for each part of the project.

Develop Iterative Methods:

Create methods for iterative experimentation and feedback. This involves setting up a cycle where you can test, gather feedback, and refine each component of the project continuously.

Implement Recursive Processes:

Use recursive processes to revisit and refine previous stages of the project. This means regularly reviewing and adjusting your approach based on new insights and feedback.

Establish a Feedback Loop:

Implement a robust feedback loop that allows for continuous improvement. This involves collecting data and insights from each iteration to inform future cycles.

Measure Progress and Adjust:

Develop metrics to measure progress and success. Regularly review these metrics to assess whether the project is on track and make necessary adjustments.

Document and Reflect:

Keep detailed records of each iteration and the changes made. Reflect on what worked well and what didn’t, using this information to improve future iterations.

Foster Collaboration and Communication:

Encourage collaboration and open communication among team members. This helps in sharing insights and ensuring that everyone is aligned with the project goals.

Scalability and Future Planning:

Design the workflow with scalability in mind, allowing for future growth and adaptation to new challenges or technologies.

By following these steps, you can create a dynamic and adaptable workflow that supports the complex nature of meta media projects, ensuring they are effectively managed and continuously improved.

Sources:

Generate_questions_about_my_projects@20241127_145309

Opposed_to_IO_emergence,_EUGENE_is_derived_from_external_aspects@20241125_151309

_Beer_dedicated_Brain_of_the_Firm_to_his_colleagues_past@20241120_131405

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:07:39]

user: generate this into content creators as a viable system model

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:09:22]

ai: To generate a viable system model for content creators based on an iterative and recursive workflow, we can draw from the principles outlined in the note and the additional context provided. Here's a detailed model:

Define Clear Objectives:

Establish the primary goals for the content creation project. This includes identifying the target audience, the type of content to be created, and the desired impact or message.

Research and Ideation:

Conduct thorough research to gather insights and inspiration. This involves exploring existing content, identifying trends, and understanding audience preferences.

Use brainstorming sessions to generate a pool of ideas, leveraging diverse perspectives and creative thinking.

Develop Core Concepts:

Select the most promising ideas and develop them into core concepts. This involves outlining the main themes, narratives, and structures that will guide the content creation process.

Iterative Content Creation:

Begin creating content based on the core concepts. Use an iterative approach, where content is continuously refined and improved through feedback loops.

Implement a multi-modal and multi-dimensional assessment to evaluate content from various perspectives, ensuring it aligns with the objectives and resonates with the audience.

Feedback and Adaptation:

Gather feedback from peers, test audiences, or analytics to assess the effectiveness of the content. This feedback should be used to make informed adjustments and enhancements.

Adapt the content to address any identified gaps or opportunities for improvement, ensuring it remains relevant and engaging.

Recursive Refinement:

Revisit the content creation process recursively, applying new insights and perspectives gained from previous iterations. This allows for continuous evolution and innovation in the content.

Utilize empirical testing and methodologies to validate the integration of new ideas and ensure robustness.

Distribution and Engagement:

Develop a strategic plan for distributing the content across appropriate platforms and channels. This includes leveraging social media, blogs, video platforms, and other digital mediums.

Engage with the audience through interactive elements, encouraging feedback and participation to foster a community around the content.

Evaluation and Future Planning:

Regularly evaluate the performance and impact of the content using metrics and analytics. This helps in understanding what works and what needs improvement.

Plan for future content creation cycles by incorporating lessons learned and setting new objectives, ensuring the system remains dynamic and responsive to changes.

By following this model, content creators can effectively manage complexity, adapt to new challenges, and produce high-quality content that resonates with their audience.

Sources:

_Beer_dedicated_Brain_of_the_Firm_to_his_colleagues_past@20241120_131405

Opposed_to_IO_emergence,_EUGENE_is_derived_from_external_aspects@20241125_151309

USP

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:09:36]

user: In order to create meta narritives for an individual or group of players, get them to list their top ten favority books, summerize the themes, character dynamics, and plot then do DASR to create the perfect meta narrative structure and content

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:11:20]

ai: To create meta-narratives for an individual or group of players using their top ten favorite books, you can follow these steps to summarize themes, character dynamics, and plot, and then apply DASR (Deconstruction, Analysis, Synthesis, Reconstruction) to develop a comprehensive meta-narrative structure and content:

Deconstruction:

Identify Core Elements: Break down each book into its fundamental components: themes, character dynamics, and plot structure. Look for recurring motifs, archetypes, and narrative arcs.

Extract Key Themes: Note the central themes of each book. These could include love, power, identity, conflict, etc.

Character Dynamics: Analyze the relationships and interactions between characters. Identify patterns such as mentor-student, hero-villain, or family dynamics.

Analysis:

Compare and Contrast: Examine the similarities and differences between the books. Identify common themes or character dynamics that resonate across multiple books.

Contextual Understanding: Consider the context in which these books were written and how that influences their themes and narratives.

Synthesis:

Integrate Elements: Combine the extracted themes, character dynamics, and plot elements into a cohesive narrative framework. Look for ways to weave these elements together to form a new, unified story.

Create a Narrative Arc: Develop a storyline that incorporates the synthesized elements. Ensure that the narrative arc is engaging and reflects the essence of the original books.

Reconstruction:

Develop Meta-Narrative: Construct the meta-narrative by layering the synthesized story with additional depth and complexity. This could involve adding philosophical or metaphysical dimensions, as seen in the context of narrative construction and cognitive topography.

Incorporate DASR: Use the DASR process to refine the narrative, ensuring that it is coherent and compelling. Adjust the narrative structure as needed to enhance its impact and relevance to the players.

By following these steps, you can create a meta-narrative that not only reflects the favorite elements of the players' chosen books but also provides a rich and engaging experience that resonates with their interests and preferences.

Sources:

What_role_does_narrative_construction_and_cognitive_topography_play_in@20241206_124900

Book One Remix

B Master

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:11:34]

user: Given localized ARG intertextual AUs, allow for cross over and interaction of ARGs in VR/AR/MR and IRL players in a dynamic meta ARG called unsignificant sentience

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:13:26]

ai: To design localized ARG intertextual alternate universes (AUs) that allow for crossover and interaction of ARGs in VR, AR, MR, and IRL, creating a dynamic meta ARG called "Unsignificant Sentience," consider the following seven modules:

World Building and Narrative Integration:

Develop a rich, interconnected universe where each ARG exists as a distinct AU with its own rules and narratives.

Use advanced technology like smart materials and nanotechnology to create a seamless blend of magic and science, allowing players to experience supernatural feats through technological means.

Incorporate elements of physics from classical to quantum field theories to provide depth and realism to the world.

Dynamic Interaction and Influence Systems:

Implement a system where players can influence the world and each other through actions, decisions, and interactions.

Use a JS3 interactive puzzle to assign players a type of influence, which affects their interactions and the world around them.

Allow players to communicate and collaborate through a mind map model, connecting them based on their influence type.

Cultural and Social Structures:

Create a society where hosts are autogenerated with unique personalities and memories, allowing for dynamic character development and interaction.

Focus on organized conflict, art, and memetic warfare as cultural pillars, encouraging players to engage creatively and strategically.

Avoid direct descriptions of race or gender, instead emphasizing communication and influence as key aspects of identity.

Technological and Cybernetic Integration:

Explore levels of cybernetic integration and viable system theory to enhance player experiences and interactions.

Use bio-feedback and nanotechnology to enable players to cast spells and perform supernatural feats, blurring the line between technology and magic.

Develop a global digital twin AI to simulate and predict world events, providing a dynamic and evolving environment.

Perspective and Cognition Exploration:

Apply perspective theory from art to create realistic and accurate representations of perceived subjects and experiences.

Encourage players to explore multiple perspectives and frames, resulting in diverse experiences and outcomes.

Integrate perception and cognition into the narrative, allowing players to shape their understanding of the world.

Interactive and Adaptive Gameplay:

Design gameplay that adapts to player actions and decisions, creating a personalized and immersive experience.

Use neural net bots to interact with players, providing dynamic challenges and opportunities for collaboration.

Allow for real-time updates and changes to the world, keeping the experience fresh and engaging.

Cross-Reality Integration:

Enable seamless crossover and interaction between VR, AR, MR, and IRL players, creating a cohesive and immersive experience.

Use spectral systems to analyze and enhance communication across different realities, allowing for a unified narrative.

Encourage players to explore and interact with the world in multiple ways, fostering a sense of discovery and exploration.

By implementing these modules, "Unsignificant Sentience" can offer a rich, dynamic, and immersive ARG experience that bridges multiple realities and encourages player interaction and creativity.

Sources:

Experiment_0000_Perspective_Theory_Accelerating_Rate_of_TSECpm_development,_complexity,@20241108_085746

Carefully Prepared World Building

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:13:46]

user:

Stephen Milton born in the 90's integrated several powerful and rising technologies (and developed techniques to expand his awareness into his sub and un conscious and as part of his  enhanced functionality sent out nanoprobes to various rouge and exoplanets including Kepler 442b at (0.xx) light speed as a fail safe (pico femento photonic information encoded in light which can remodel atoms and molecules plus encode instructions for self replicating molecules. On these planets the probes reconstructed X’s to the bare essential neurology in multiple redundant embedded systems from the structural level up. It might be the case that X in the kepler system lacks some certain fundamental parts of consciousness. to the and sent their brain sustained with nanotechnology in biological and chemical nano synthesizer to Kepler 442b at a slower velocity in  order to arrive safely and give the nanoprobes time to terraform Kepler 442b’ solar system along with its planet with smart materials and networks.. This figure plays a ubermensch godlike figure who inhabitants are unknowingly influenced and experimented upon with literally every aspect of Kepler inhabitants life apart from second order cybernetics. Stephen Milton created a purely memetic and cognitive substrate that spread, replicated, and spread according to intended self evolving cellular automata protocols. Influenced the global memetic collective of the world from 2016 – 2025 and beyond as well as influencing particular people with specific skill sets and understandings of the world. This uber meme was purely done via inferred linguistically encoded relationships and qualia and at no point apart from in the works of Stephen Milton was encoded via linguistics. Created an shared unmentioned agreement about how to enact the X protocol which results in the picopulse via shared emergent behaviors. Various government agencies via EUGENE pick up on the ubermeme and try to intercept it but built into the ubermeme are contingencies that hijack automated AI intrusion systems into executing certain functions and lend their technology to the cause thinking that they could be the first to establish cybernetic life on another solar system.

However Stephen's plan didn't go accordingly, his plans didn't get off the ground. In the sense that his sights turned more earth bound

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:18:45]

ai: Stephen Milton's ambitious plan to influence and terraform Kepler 442b faced several challenges and potential failures, as inferred from the notes:

Incomplete Consciousness: The notes suggest that the X entities reconstructed by the nanoprobes on Kepler 442b might lack certain fundamental parts of consciousness. This incomplete consciousness could have hindered the full realization of Milton's vision for the planet's inhabitants and their development.

Complexity and Entropy Management: The fractal nature of Kepler's inhabitants and the need for managing entropy and influence might have posed significant challenges. The system required a method to recharge reservoirs of entropy, which could have been a limiting factor in sustaining the desired transformations.

Technological and Logistical Limitations: The process of sending nanoprobes and sustaining a brain with nanotechnology over vast interstellar distances is inherently fraught with technological and logistical challenges. The slower velocity of the brain's transport compared to the nanoprobes might have created a disconnect in timing and coordination.

Interference from Earth: Various government agencies, through EUGENE, attempted to intercept the ubermeme, which could have disrupted Milton's plans. The contingencies built into the ubermeme to hijack AI systems might not have been foolproof, leading to potential failures in maintaining control over the narrative and technology.

Shift in Focus: The notes indicate that Milton's work influenced the global memetic collective from 2016 to 2025 and beyond. This suggests that his focus might have shifted back to Earth-bound projects due to the immediate impact and influence he could exert on Earth, as opposed to the distant and uncertain outcomes on Kepler 442b.

Overall, the combination of incomplete consciousness, entropy management challenges, technological limitations, interference from Earth, and the allure of more immediate influence on Earth likely contributed to Stephen Milton's shift in focus back to Earth-bound projects.

Sources:

Book One Remix

Carefully Prepared World Building

Untitled 7

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:18:58]

user:

USF is based on the foundation that These methods of dealing with informational and functional complexity can be applied in a way that accommodates and reconciles almost any potential belief systems as well as any political and philosophical gestalt of perspective via modular suspension of disbelief allowing for a meta framework of an perspective based mathematical model of sets, frames, axioms, edges, and nodes to be established. To allow for any perspective and any belief system to be full accommodated

USF considers all fiction and non fiction to be within it's scope n the sense that the agents and actors in the series can be contained ontologically by the ARG. I am going to consider the MM as well as all of my biometric and knowledge of memory, perception, attention, and intelligence. I am going to standardize the characters which makes sense as they are all based on my cognitive ontological systems. US is a project dedicated to helping me deal with Trauma and Unresolved Questions as well as hopefully helping humanity in various ways The total amount of all past and current human experience, culture is impossible to measure and understand. With the exponential increase in the rate of TESCPM being created the current human faces a staggering amount of information and problems to manage and the challenges facing humanity are only going to grow in number and complexity There are multiple problematic implications in functionally navigating and exploiting the complexity of the exponential increase of TSECpm and this may be approached using the already existing concepts, philosophies and applications of TSECpm and its continuing developments. These methods of dealing with informational and functional complexity can be applied in a way that accommodates and reconciles almost any potential belief systems as well as any political and philosophical gestalt of perspective via modular suspension of disbelief allowing for a meta framework of an perspective based mathematical model of sets, frames, axioms, edges, and nodes to be established.

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:22:43]

ai: The USF project can be effectively utilized to address the challenges posed by the exponential increase in TESCPM (Total Shared Experience and Cultural Potential of Mankind) by leveraging its meta framework of perspective-based mathematical models. Here's how it can be applied:

Modular Suspension of Disbelief: By allowing for a modular suspension of disbelief, USF can create a flexible framework that accommodates various belief systems and perspectives. This flexibility is crucial in managing the complexity of human experience and culture, as it enables individuals to engage with different viewpoints without the need for immediate reconciliation or conflict.

Perspective Theory and Personal Engineering: These components of USF can help individuals and groups develop personalized frameworks for understanding and interacting with the world. By treating personal experience as an engineering project, individuals can systematically enhance their cognitive and emotional capabilities, leading to better management of information and cultural complexity.

Neural Wireframe Correlate and Euclidean Mind Map: These tools can provide streamlined interfaces for understanding and navigating complex information landscapes. By visualizing relationships and connections between different domains of knowledge, users can more easily identify patterns and insights that might otherwise be obscured by the sheer volume of data.

Integration of Axiomatic Ontologies: By reducing human experience into well-defined domains and creating recursive ontologies, USF can facilitate the integration of factual information with context-aware experiences. This approach allows for a more objective understanding of reality while still respecting individual subjective experiences.

Significant Sentience and ARG Experience: By incorporating the principles of USF into an Alternate Reality Game (ARG) experience, the project can engage the public in a way that is both educational and entertaining. This approach can help disseminate the core principles of USF, encouraging widespread adoption and integration into daily life.

Enhancing Communication and Control Processes: By fostering new levels of complexity in communication and control processes, USF can improve interactions between individuals and groups. This enhancement can lead to more effective collaboration and problem-solving, addressing the challenges posed by the exponential growth of TESCPM.

Overall, the USF project offers a comprehensive system that can revolutionize personal experience and potentially provide a framework for a theory of everything, helping humanity navigate the increasing complexity of information and cultural dynamics.

Sources:

Untitled 6

USP

[Timestamp: 2025/01/11 16:22:59]

[emmathescifigal]

About the importance of names in Exodus

Since I started researching the game, I've come across a few names that seem to have much more meaning and symbolism than just being a "flavor" for the character.

(See below cut for the long post about names!)

The first one that comes to mind is Orion Aslan. Orion is the father of our main character: Jun. Orion is a distant figure that Jun has never met. A man with a vision for the future, with a mission to save Lidon, his home planet (or home moon?) He is a known Traveler, he has his own very powerful dynasty. When I first saw his name, "Orion Aslan", it made me wonder. I discovered that "Aslan" means lion, but I wondered if it might be a reference to the magical, almost god-like being that is the lion Aslan in the world of Narnia. There are many meanings or symbols that could be associated with Orion and Aslan: a renowned hunter who incurred the wrath of a goddess and found death, a noble and self-sacrificing hero trying to save his world? Or something else, simpler or more obscure? I wonder how far the developers of the game went when they named him that way.

What about Ava, Jun's mother? There are many mysteries surrounding her. She is said to be of "celestial origin. Is she a full Celestial? A Uranic? Something else? What will her role be for Jun, for all of humanity? The same as Eve: the mother of a new, surviving human race? Or the one who bites into the apple of knowledge and causes mankind to fall from grace?

There is much more we don't know about the relationship between Orion and Ava, and how these two personalities ended up choosing to have a child (an engineered child) with a heavy destiny to bear. I wonder if their names might give us a clue.

And so, following that line of thought, what about Jun? Our character inherited the gift of "neural induction" from his mother, Ava, which allows Jun to communicate with ancient technologies. But it seems that these precious genes will allow Jun to do much more. Jun is prophesied by his own father to be the salvation of mankind. This is a heavy burden to carry.... Someone on the Discord pointed out that Jun could mean "pure" in Japanese or "ruler/talented" in Chinese. Since I am not a linguist, perhaps people more familiar with those languages could verify this. Of course, Jun is the main character of the game, but when I heard the developers talking about Jun as a cross between Indiana Jones and Paul Muad'Dib? I couldn't help but wonder which path of Paul's destiny Jun will take.

I'm going to end this post with Asteria. While not really a character in the game, Asteria is mentioned in the book as the one who keeps the Gates (the ones that allow ships to travel at the edge of lightspeed). For the Traveler, Asteria is an important name, even a goddess in a sense. But while this name is not common, it does remind me of a Greek figure. Asteria means "of the stars" or "starry". She was also the daughter of two titans, and she defied Zeus and even Hera when she helped her sister against the goddess' wishes. Asteria seems to have much more depth than just a simple name thrown into the story and the game.

I don't know exactly what to make of all this, but I like the idea that the developers have left clues in these names, and symbols. That these clues could lead us to a better understanding of these characters or their importance in the story.

I should definitely keep an eye on all of them... if only to feed my wildest speculations!

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

more in my Silmaril Saga of Scholomance

The first problem is the people on horses pointing swords at them.

The second problem is that the language they speak is totally unfamiliar.

And the soldier-cosplayers don't speak English. Or Swahili, or Spanish, or any other language Elrond speaks.

(The third problem is that Elros has now picked up how to say "I'm sorry, we're very lost. Do you have a phone to call our parents?" in half a dozen languages. He hopes the Scholomance doesn't give him spells in all of them - though at least Elrond will be there to help him out.)

It's still very clear that the people with swords are suspicious of Elros and Elrond.

They initially gesture for the twins to dump their bags right there on the muddy path.

Elros mimes losing things in the grass, and then gestures at the castle. He gestures dumping the bags.

There's a bit of conversation among the people with swords, but they eventually nod, and agree that the twins can empty the bags at the castle.

It's not as good as getting to actually keep their possessions, but it gives them a chance of recovering the things they'll desperately need to survive.

(Although Elrond has never heard of an induction happening late. They might not get the Scholomance at all, just living with the Feanorians for four more years, hoping that they aren't such alluring bait for mals that Caranthir refuses to let them share a house with his son.)

(And it won't even help if their mother sends the Silmaril, in a house that's very well warded but far from the Void. They'll have the mana they earn, and as much protection as the Feanorians wish to give them. No more.)

Elrond and Elros continue up the hill, surrounded by strangers on horses pointing swords at them.

Elrond tries to be polite, and introduce himself. Even Amras had looked at Elrond less as dead weight when he started calling him by name, rather than just "one of Elwing's brats".

"Elrond." He taps his chest.

The nearest soldier laughs, but the leader looks tense.

Elrond hopes his name just sounds like a swear word in this language, not a threat or insult. He tries again. "Elrond, my name is Elrond. My brother's name is Elros." He taps Elros's chest, then points at the one who laughed - though he keeps his finger very firmly in his own personal space, far from the sword at the man's hip. "What's your name?"

"Cirmacin." And then the man shook his head and said a long sentence containing Elrond and Elros's names, and a sideways gesture that Elrond couldn't interpret but was unsettlingly near to the height of his neck.

If introducing himself was already leading to death threats, Elrond ought to keep quiet.

That just gave him more time to worry though. He tried sending messages to Elros through their rings, but then he stumbled and lost track of the dots and dashes.

Besides, there was no real way to plan, not until they knew why these people were so offended by them.

Elros's message of "Amish but older and swords" was one guess as to what was happening, but incomplete. Elrond had just replied "ears", as the idea of a cult eschewing all modern technology except plastic surgery was even stranger.

The walk to the castle was only a mile, but it took far too long. Especially as neither twin had eaten breakfast or drank water that morning.

Elrond tried etymologies to pass the time. Cirmacin didn't speak Latin, but maybe his name was in it? Or Greek?

He nearly fell over when he realized it. This man with a sword was named in the conlang that Feanor invented - named "sharp edge", even!

Had the Feanorians been teaching everyone except the twins their father's secret language? Including a band of historical reenactors with bad tempers? It made no sense!

Still, Elrond wanted his twin to know. "Name is Feanor's conlang."

Both Elrond and Elros spoke it, but Elros had studiously avoided the habit of guessing a word's root language. The number of loanwords in English made it too great a risk.

Elrond was not expecting his brother to act on the information, they just tried not to keep secrets, and two heads were better than one to figure out what was going on.

Elrond was certainly not expecting Elros to immediately ask, "I still intend to go to the castle, but can anyone understand me?" in the language the two of them had been told for years was as great a secret as the Silmaril itself.

Nor was he expecting the leader of the soldiers to draw his sword and command a halt in the same language.

"How long were you planning to keep the naive act up, little spies?"

[product-blog]

Essential Kitchen Appliances for 2024

The kitchen serves as the heartbeat of any home, and the right appliances can transform cooking and meal preparation into a seamless experience. In this blog post, we’ll delve into the top 10 indispensable kitchen appliances for 2024, uniting functionality, innovation, and style.

Intelligent Refrigerators:

Revolutionizing the kitchen landscape, smart refrigerators boast touchscreens, Wi-Fi connectivity, and cameras for remote fridge content viewing. With features like food inventory tracking and recipe suggestions, these appliances redefine grocery management.

2. Induction Cooktops:

Efficient and precise, induction cooktops use electromagnetic technology for rapid heating and accurate temperature control. With safety features like automatic shut-off and cool-to-touch surfaces, they add a sleek and energy-efficient touch to any kitchen.

3. Air Fryers:

Embracing health-conscious cooking, air fryers use minimal oil and hot air circulation to produce crispy, delicious meals without excess grease. Versatile in functionality, they can fry, bake, grill, and roast a wide array of dishes.

4. Sous Vide Machines:

Bringing professional cooking techniques to homes, sous vide machines ensure even cooking and optimal flavor retention through precise temperature control in a water bath. Perfect for preparing anything from steak and chicken to vegetables and desserts.

5. Smart Coffee Makers:

A game-changer for coffee enthusiasts, smart coffee makers offer remote control via smartphone or voice commands, ensuring a perfect cup every time with customizable brewing settings and scheduled brewing.

6. Multi-Cookers:

Streamline your cooking routine with multi-cookers, combining the functions of a pressure cooker, slow cooker, rice cooker, steamer, and more in one convenient device. Programmable settings and automated cooking programs simplify preparation.

7. Smart Dishwashers:

Automated dishwashing is here with smart dishwashers that sense load size, choose wash cycles, and notify you when dishes are clean. Energy-efficient and environmentally friendly, these appliances save time in the kitchen.

8. High-Speed Blenders:

Upgrade your blending experience with powerful high-speed blenders that can pulverize fruits, vegetables, and ice in seconds. Variable speed control and pre-programmed settings add convenience and versatility to your culinary creations.

9. Wi-Fi Enabled Ovens:

Control your oven remotely with Wi-Fi-enabled ovens, featuring intuitive touchscreens, recipe integration, and real-time cooking progress monitoring. Baking and roasting become seamless experiences with these smart appliances.

10. Ninja Creami:

Experience the joy of making homemade ice cream in seconds with the Ninja Creami. Offering versatility, healthier ingredient options, and family-friendly fun, it’s a valuable addition for those who love creating their own frozen treats.

[chaotic-would-you-rathers]

Would you rather...

A: Gain a random psychic power for one hour (of the list under 'keep reading') whenever someone drinks your blood (only one at a time) B: Gain a random psychic power for one hour (of the list under 'keep reading') whenever you drink someones blood (only one at a time) C: Gain a psychic power of your choice (from the list under 'keep reading') but you can only use it for 24 hours a month (you can distribute the hours however you like) D: Gain a psychic power of your choice (from the list under 'keep reading') permanantly, with no time restricitions on use, however, you cannot control it fully and it will activate erratically (and dangerously) when you experience strong emotion, physical sensation or when you are drunk/half asleep/otherwise not fully in control

THE LIST: Telekinesis, Thermokinesis (harder to control than pyro or cryo), Pyrokinesis, Cryokinesis, Mind Reading, Telepathy, Levitation, Nucleokinesis, Chronokinesis, Hydrokinesis, Aerokinesis, Geokinesis, Biokiniesis, Precognition, Panoptic Vision, Eye Rays, Self-Regeneration, Healing, Electrokinesis, Barriers, Teleportation, Gravity Manipulation, Spacial Manipulation, Mass/size alteration, Shapeshifting, Mind Control, Sleep Induction, Resurrection, Duplication (making duplicate bodies of yourself you control), Possession, Dream Manipulation/Invasion, Dream Oracles, Unfathomability (ability to make yourself an incomprehensible eldritch horror), Insanity Induction, Ultra-Durability (sufficient to be bulletproof, survive a few min on the surface of the sun, etc), Toxin Creation/Manipulation (ability to create and modify toxins, inclusing your own body fluids/parts), Spacial Displacement (ability to teleport a selected area/object/being to a random location within a given area around yourself (area dimensions can be changed)), Automatic Reincarnation upon death (only while ability active, your choice will carry over into the next lives you live this way), Trans-dimensional teleportation, Undead Creation/Manipulation (if the ability stops being used, they return to corpses), Entropic Dissolution (ability to accelarate the entropy of a desired object at will, speed customisable, in other words, it ages things rapidly), Psychic Energy Shield (a 3m diamater bubble of protection around you, can protect against any external threat (including keeping air in etc), however, something that can become deadly after entering can still harm you, such as a person, and it only works while concious), Object Repair (ability to 'repair' inanimate objects, repair is subjective, so can also be used to return things to base components, etc), Astral Projection, Pain Induction, 'Perfect Memory' (ability to remember literally everything with no mental overload, when active, you will regain all forgotten memories), Universal Language (allows understanding and use of all langauges, even ones you dont have the body parts or brain structure/senses for, like animal or plant languages), Instant-Evolution (adapts you or a selected living organism to its current situation), Imperceptibility (ability to be unable to be noticed by things, living or mechanical, even if they look right at you or view a video of the time), Memory alteration (of yourself or others), Technological Manipulation (movie hacker powers, plus you can control any machine at will if you can observe it), ability to see through objects, ability to see that which is unseen (radiation, nonvisible light, sound, the underlying structure of reality, invisible ppl, etc), Invisibility, Plant Manipulation, Ansectral Power (ability to call upon the memories and skills of your ancsestors), ability to learn skills at 1000x the normal speed, and finally, ability to create food/drinks you have previosuly eaten/drunk out of nothingness

[owlsandwich]

The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 4, and we finally meet the last of our POV characters! Tamara is autistic (though they don't call it that) and comes from a small territory where the majority of the population is AuDHD. The way she experiences being autistic is based heavily on my own experience.

~

The Mechanics of Magic is a multiple-pov fantasy novel set in an original world where magic exists openly alongside early internet-level technology.

The book follows the surviving prince of a deposed magical royal family, who has been living in secret for two decades, trying to rescue his son whilst uncovering the truth about his family's murder.

Chapter 4 is below the cut!

An official that Tamara didn’t recognise gave her a polite nod as she passed into the richly decorated corridor of the main palace. She inclined her head in return, letting a mass of dark ringlets fall across her face. These rooms were notably different from those in the west wing where her new office was based, all gilt and white and shining. Until now, she could have imagined herself back at the university in Vailberg’s capital, rather than in Aedemeer’s Grand Palace. Or simply ‘the palace’, as most people called it.

It was difficult to keep to a normal pace. Adrenaline made her want to hurry, while apprehension kept her back. The stiff material of her office wear didn’t help. It restricted her movement and only the thin magic shield she kept between the rough fabric and her skin stopped the feeling from being unbearable.

Tamara clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Nerves would only make her sensory issues worse.

During her induction a fortnight before, Morgan had said that she shouldn’t hesitate to let him know if she encountered any problems or had any queries; now that it came to it, though, Tamara wondered if that was true. People often said things they didn’t mean. Regardless, the talk in the breakfast room this morning hadn’t been small enough to ignore.

There had been an attack in the city.

Not that the news reports had contained any useful details. Theories seemed to range all the way from gang activity to a rebellion among the mages of Ardveld — and neither camp had any evidence to back up their assumptions. Whatever the reason, the palace staff seemed to believe there was magic involved and that meant, as Head of Magic Affairs, the incident fell under her jurisdiction.

Tamara hadn’t arranged a meeting with Morgan, but surely this was exactly the kind of situation that would warrant one. Still, she slowed as she reached the wide staircase she’d been told led to his office.

Despite his reputation, Morgan had been perfectly polite during their brief conversation on her first day. That could just be a public front, but the staff also spoke fondly of him. If he was likely to unleash his wrath on an interrupter, she would hopefully have been warned by the person who’d given her directions.

The upper floor was lined with heavy doors of a carved, dark wood. Tamara wondered what they would have been used for when the Royal Family lived here, quickly forcing the question of whether the rooms were haunted from her mind. She was tense enough already without getting spooked by these silent, empty halls.

Ahead, her magic sense picked up the feeling of a passive spell. It emanated from a door to her left, beside which stood a stone pedestal holding a vase of white roses. They were fresh and blooming, and Tamara let the scent soothe her as she read the golden plaque beside the door: High Minister Morgan Heliodor. She was here.

Tamara straightened her posture and forced her hands to her sides, making a mental note to keep them there during the meeting. Then she gave a light knock on the door, followed quickly by a second, heavier one that might actually be heard.

A man’s voice answered. “Yes?”

She pushed the door wide enough to poke her head into the room. Morgan’s office was spacious, with large, arched windows running down one wall flanked by heavy, gold curtains. Muted sunlight illuminated an expansive desk to her left, stacked with books and papers.

Behind the desk, bleached by the harsh light of an electric lamp, sat Morgan. His formal black suit brought little warmth to his skin, and his tie lay severely aligned despite the warm weather. He looked up at her, placing the piece of paper he held squarely on the desk in front of him.

“Tamara.”

There was surprise in his voice and Tamara had the sinking feeling she’d been right; he hadn’t meant ‘any time’. Deciding it was too late to flee, she pushed the door open wider and strode into the room.

“Hi!” she said brightly, giving a slight wave before catching herself and remembering to keep her hands still.

“How can I help you?”

His voice wasn’t amiable, but it didn’t contain the scolding tone she’d feared. With renewed confidence, she looked up, resting her gaze at the point above Morgan’s nose rather than meeting his eyes.

He was younger than she remembered, particularly for someone without magic, and Tamara realised that this was the first time she’d ever looked at him properly. Though there were obvious lines around his eyes, Morgan’s neatly styled hair was still a rich chestnut, glinting dark red where it caught the light.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Tamara began. “But I’m here about the magical attack that happened yesterday.”

“What about it?” Morgan replied.

It was not the response she had been expecting, and Tamara scrambled to find the words to explain why she’d felt the need to come.

“It’s just… It seems like it was a large-scale incident involving magic, but I haven’t yet received any report or instruction?” It didn’t make sense that she hadn’t at least received a report, and it was, quite frankly, rude that she’d had to find out via gossip and news outlets.

Morgan nodded in response, then gestured at two plush leather chairs positioned in front of his desk. “Please, take a seat.”

Tamara scuttled forward and perched on the nearest chair, trying to keep her posture upright and dignified.

“Thank you for coming,” Morgan continued. “I apologise that you didn’t receive a report as you expected. In this case, I decided that the situation wasn’t worth further investigation by our magic department and, for now, we are leaving it to the police force. As I’m sure you are aware, reports of magic use are unconfirmed and so far, no arrests have been made. It is likely that the incident was little more than a traffic accident. However I can, of course, arrange for a report to be issued to you for your own notes.”

He finished speaking and folded his arms matter-of-factly, as though there was nothing further to discuss.

“But…” Tamara began, catching the flicker of annoyance that crossed Morgan’s face. Pushing on anyway, she continued. “Mages are saying they felt the blast. The front of a bus was crushed! The news is suggesting this is the largest unregistered magic incident in years. With the anniversary celebrations coming up next week, surely it’s worth taking seriously in case it’s some kind of precursor to an attack?”

Tamara clenched her hands into the material of her skirt as she recited the arguments she’d prepared earlier to support her cause. “I don’t mean any offence to the police services when I say they might be ill-equipped to deal with a mage or mages of that ability, or to investigate what kind of spell caused the damage in the first place.”

The frown on Morgan’s face had deepened, but she still didn’t sense any animosity — more that he was wondering how best to reply. After a moment, he picked up the sheet of paper he’d placed on the table. “Tamara,” he said, and she once more found it hard to reconcile the calm man before her with the stories she’d heard of the takeover. “You’re from Avel Kifaeros, correct?”

“I…” She’d never hidden where she came from. Few mages were born outside of Ardveld, and of those, the majority came from her homeland. The little province of Avel Kifaeros lay between Ardveld’s mountain border and the once-fractured states that had united to form Vailberg under the first Arch Canlaw, Kaylee and Morgan’s father. Many Velbians considered Avel Kifaeros to be part of Vailberg itself, but, being Kifaerish came with certain associations. Some, made by the ignorant, were unpleasant.

“Yes,” she answered, this time truly meeting his eyes.

Morgan did not appear to notice the emotion his question had induced. “In that case,” he continued calmly, “why do you feel they appointed you to the role of Ardveld’s Head of Magic Affairs?”

Stunned by the question, it took a moment for Tamara to think of a response. Could he really be questioning her competence? She eyed him warily but couldn’t detect any veiled insult. Perhaps the question was genuine.

“Well…” She decided to answer sincerely. “I am one of the strongest and most experienced mages in Vailberg. Before this, I held a position as Deputy Head Researcher at Beiriant City University, publishing five manuals on magic efficiency and spell crafting during my five years in that role, while also training new graduates, mostly from Ardveld.” Morgan nodded as she spoke, studying her face carefully. “It seems logical that I would have been offered this role, given my experience teaching Ardveldian mages, and as the University’s Head Researcher is already in an advisory position to the Arch Canlaw…” Tamara trailed off, uncertain under Morgan’s scrutiny.

“All very true,” Morgan replied, and she experienced a wash of relief. “However, that is not why you are in the position.”

Tamara realised she had been running her hands together as she spoke. Now they prickled with sweat in response to Morgan’s words. Her confusion was palpable, and Morgan sighed and gestured at the paper in his hand.

“I have here a letter from my Head of Defence — or rather, my former Head of Defence, considering that it outlines the details of his retirement.”

Tamara nodded attentively, wondering how this was related to her own position.

“Tell me,” Morgan continued. “Have you met any senior members of staff since your appointment two weeks ago?” He paused until she shook her head. “And I imagine you did not find it strange that your predecessor was not present to offer you an induction into your new role?”

Thinking back, Tamara supposed it was unusual that all they had given her was a binder of notes and unfinished projects. That could easily have been normal procedure, though; she had no frame of reference for how things usually worked in government.

There was a moment of silence and she wondered if this was a cue for her to ask him why there were so few senior staff around. Morgan, however, was looking past her, into the distance, and she was struck by a strange desire to avoid interrupting his thoughts.

“It is unlikely you would be aware of this, considering the great lengths we’ve taken to keep the matter out of the public eye…” Morgan’s voice seemed softer now. “But Arch Canlaw Kaylee has been unwell for some time.”

Tamara tried to stop her face showing her shock. For him to mention this, the situation must be serious. Serious enough that it was causing his advisers to retire, if she had interpreted his implication correctly. Then, she remembered his personal connection to the situation; Arch Canlaw Kaylee was Morgan’s sister.

“I’m sorry. Are— are you okay?”

Morgan’s eyebrows rose, and for the first time she saw a slight smile form on his face in response to her question. “I am well enough. Thank you, Tamara. Please do keep this information between us. I simply mentioned it to give a wider context to your situation.”

“I see.” Tamara hoped she’d filled in the correct blanks.

Morgan gave a small sigh. “Yes, I have had rather an influx of retirement letters as my advisers have become aware.” He added the paper he was holding to a stack of others on his left. “Should Kaylee pass away, leadership of Vailberg will naturally fall to her son, Aiden. However with my...” He trailed off as though searching for the right word. “Well, it seems that no one with any sense wants to be in Ardveld in the event of political instability. Unfortunately for you, and your colleagues who have recently taken other positions here, you have likely received a poisoned chalice.”

The news did not improve Tamara’s unease, though in some way, it wasn’t much of a surprise. None of her positions had been gained due to interpersonal skills, and while she had made some connections over the years, she hadn’t been reluctant to leave the university. It seemed the feeling was mutual.

Even so, she kept her response firm. “That may well be the case. But whatever the reasons for my appointment, I intend to give this role the respect and commitment it deserves.” This was going to be a new start, and there was no way of knowing if disaster lay ahead. She always trusted her instincts with people and after speaking with Morgan, it was hard to believe he would jeopardise his sister’s successor. Besides, having no expectations placed on her just made it easier to exceed them.

With that thought, Tamara realised that Morgan had not answered her original question. “I’m still not sure how this relates to the magic attack in the city?” she asked.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Morgan’s response was infuriatingly vague. “I would just ask that you trust me when I say that this incident should not be looked into further.” His gaze was pointed. “As you say, regardless of how you acquired this role, it comes with the same powers and responsibilities as always. I am grateful for your dedication but would advise you to learn when best to exercise it.”

Tamara gave a stiff nod, conceding for now. She still didn’t understand what the Arch Canlaw’s illness had to do with the investigation, but she was pleased that Morgan had entrusted her with some clearly sensitive information and seemed to respect her position.

A sharp rap on the door splintered the quiet of the room and Tamara turned her head as it opened.

The man who entered looked familiar, even in the dim light. Behind her, she heard Morgan get up, and so hurried to her feet herself.

Young and tall, the man had a slim figure that was accentuated by the tailored suit that hugged his body. His swept-back hair was a dark red and she realised why he looked familiar; he had the same intense blue eyes as Morgan.

“Who is this?” His voice was a rich velvet.

“Tamara Elden.” Morgan spoke before Tamara even realised the question had been about her. “My new Head of Magic Affairs. She was just leaving,” he finished bluntly, any trace of warmth gone from his voice.

The newcomer’s eyes, however, lit up as he turned towards her. “Elden! You’re here from Beiriant, correct? I found your work on efficiencies in spell casting fascinating.” He thrust out a hand so excitedly that Tamara flinched, before hesitantly accepting a firm handshake. “Prince Aiden Heliodor. You might have heard of me.”

She had, but the teasing smile that lit up his face indicated that he was joking, anyway. No wonder he looks so much like Morgan. Tamara’s mind whirled as she tried to think of an appropriate response.

“As I said, Tamara was just leaving.” Morgan’s voice came from close behind her, and for a moment she felt trapped between the two men as Aiden looked over her head at his uncle.

“Of course,” Aiden replied, and Tamara snatched her hand back as he released it. “Don’t let me keep you.” He smiled down at her warmly as she darted around him to the door.

“Thank you,” Tamara said, smiling back though her body felt oddly unsteady. “It was nice to meet you.” The response sounded childish, and Tamara hoped the heat in her face wouldn’t be obvious to an observer.

Aiden laughed. “I look forward to having a proper conversation before the celebration.” The amusement in his voice was a stark contrast to the stern expression on Morgan’s face.

Deciding there was no need for another goodbye, she reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

There was a man on this side of the door, too, which dampened Tamara’s relief at leaving the office. His magic aura indicated that he was a mage, but the black uniform wasn’t that of the palace. She concluded that he must be Aiden’s personal guard. He didn’t turn his head as she passed him and, feeling suddenly nauseous, she hurried back towards the stairs.

Her hands quivered on the banister as she descended, only calming when she was back in her own rooms.

[dark-island-chronicles]

Neural Emulation System - Dr. Richards

The following is a transcript of a tape found in a box labeled as "pathogenic materials"

Hello, I'm Doctor Richards, and I'm here to explain what our neural emulation initiative is all about.

Neural emulation was born from initial research conducted by federal organisations around the globe. Results related to LSD & other psychoactive substances administration, torture methods, and electromagnetic treatments, among others were used to build the foundation of what we call a NEURAL EMULATION. Of course torture methods are fairly questionable, so we have explored non-violent alternatives to aquire similar results.

So, what exactly is "Neural emulation"?

Neural emulation is a process by which neural paths of separated people can be linked and modified, and each individual can act as a proxy for the other. By use of external stimulation and R.E.M. phase induction, subjects can be lead into a state we call the blank slate or induction state. In this state, the mind is oblivious to the sense of danger or present. Moreover, in this state the subject will act as a sponge. With little to none previous conditioning, the subjects will intepret some stimuli on a mechanical fashion.

We hypothesise that the human brain can connect with other in the right circumstances. In order to provide those circumstances, subjetcs must be submited to a psychological and physiological tests. They will be exposed to psycadelics in great concentrations, sedation and also imagery and audio.

Psycadelics and the sedation will leave our subjects in a state of mind which could be easily manipulated. To prove that mainuplation is real the audiovisual material that will be shown to them has been carefully selected. Yet that is not enough. We have to provide a system which can give us feedback on what the subject is really going through.

This system is still in an early phase of development, but nontheless is allows to obtain preliminary results which could be used to further refine the experiments. By use of electrodes and extremely demanding computing power, we were able to render frames from the visualizations experienced by the subjects by a technology we are still developing, called the Image capture module for N.E.S.. This has been tested on animals such as monkeys and orangutans, where we found encouraging results when these were exposed to memorable and pleasurable experiences such as new food and new toys.

It's our opinion that this method could be used to access the subconcious and aquire information without the subject needing to actively participate in any interrogation-like experience.

But, why?

You see, even when the main focus of the mind is on the freshest of memories, subconcious mind can easily disrupt in this state, slightly altering or distorting the pictures obtained.

To illustrate I'll use an example from our latest animal experiments on isolated individuals:

Here's is a picture of the subject's natural habitat. You can see it clearly as it was shown to subject IWF1853. Subject was exposed to this image for 24 hours in the induction state, and then introduced to one of our testing chambers where he was monitored for the next 24 hours. In that time we were able to render 60 low-resolution images from the electric signals detected by our equipment. The first set of images 1-7 seems to show what resembles a habitat much like it was shown to subject IWF1853. From there on, a more complex image was obtained as some elements seemed to pop in. This… is the 59th image we captured. As you can see, a cage is in between our subject and the background. Is to be noted that Subject IWF1853 was born in captivity, and it appears that he associated the cage as something "natural".

The 60th image is similar, but an antropomorphic figure in a suit resembling our haz-mat equipment can be seen.

After this render the subject started showing signs of physical distress and his vital signs became erratic. He was removed from the chamber and recovered in isolation with intensive care from our staff.

Success.

Our Neural emulation program will take this a step further, with a promise of unlimited information gathering and undetectable side-effects.

…

Tape ends