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metamorphory · 14 days ago

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odds paid – cho hyun-ju [6]

part 5 | THIS IS PART 6 | part 7

PAIRING. Cho Hyun-ju x fem!reader SUMMARY. You are a daughter of one of the VIPs. Your father allowed you to be part of the 37th Squid Games competition, especially the VIP betting. Will you take this opportunity for money, or would you let your goal lead astray for a completely different reason? CONTENT. squid game 3 spoilers, VIP!reader, morally grey reader, frontman, mention of geum-ja’s fate, barely proofread WORD COUNT. 1.6k A/N. i feel like im rewriting the entire s3. short chapter, i’m gathering ideas for future hyun-ju fics

For most of the evening, Hyun-ju couldn't sleep. She had already rinsed her stab wound and realized just how bad it was without applying an appropriate treatment. The bleeding had stopped long ago, but she still has difficulty walking on that leg. Seeing her limp will make other players think she’s an easy target, especially if the game tomorrow is as brutal as the fourth. But Hyun-ju had endured worse; she knows how to deal with the problems as they go.

She huddled at the corner, wrapped in the nearest clean blanket she could get her hands on, and closed her eyes.

Breathe. One at a time.

About three hours later, the metal doors slid open to let the circle guards in. Hyun-ju blinked her sleep away and saw the guards bringing a ribboned coffin in.

Hyun-ju sat up and watched where they were heading.

The screen above them rolled down a single number, and piles of money dropped into the huge coin bank suspended above.

Hyun-ju gasped when she saw where the guards were heading. She descended from her bed as quickly as her bad leg would allow. Wishing with all her might for her eyes to be fooling her.

But when the guards took Geum-ja’s body hanging from one of the high beds, Hyun-ju felt the reality like a stab in the chest. Hot, stinging, growing colder, and numbing her fingertips. She limped over to where Jun-hee stood with her sleeping baby and watched as the guards took Geum-ja away.

They both shed the remaining tears in their reservoir as quietly as they could so as not to wake up the baby.

Hyun-ju remembered Geum-ja inviting them to their home, she remembered her as an understanding mother to Yong-sik, and the first one to treat her like her own daughter.

The reality edged on her resolve, the people who accepted her and saved her in their ways diminishing one by one. And despite her efforts, there are times when she can only watch.

But not you.

You had the money and power to change things, and you won’t spend time on this island lounging and drinking yourself to death like the rest of the VIPs.

The Frontman was waiting in his quarters as if anticipating your inevitable arrival.

Maybe expecting to hear some sort of explanation as to why you seem to be interfering with his games. Lying about observing the game as a red team member and ending up saving three players seemed to be taking it too far as a mere observer.

He welcomed you inside and poured both of you a drink. You didn’t wait for him to speak; you had no time. The fifth game will start tomorrow.

“What will be the game tomorrow?” Your gaze dropped to the half-empty glass in front of you. Without your golden hyena mask on, a sudden wave of vulnerability seemed to envelope you. The people around you still think you’re a young girl with a father who has too much money. But you’re willing to take all that for Hyun-ju, for the bet you’re willing to win. For your future and her own.

“Why are you asking me this?” the Frontman asked, his modulated voice rid of any underlying emotion. “So you could also participate in the fifth game and save a certain someone?”

Your fingers bunched on your trousers, the dull throbbing of your wounds faintly crawling through your entire arm. You should say something, maybe a clever retort up your sleeve or something to shift whatever power imbalance the Frontman was willing to throw at your face. The firm sentence you’ve been putting together in your head erupted in a cloud when the Frontman beat you to it.

“Your father is a powerful and wealthy man, but I’m afraid his gifts end here.”

“I’m not going to ask you for a favor, I’ll pay you for it,” you replied quickly, hoping the plan you’ve constructed in your head was enough. “I’m aware that this is not your only facility. There are too many bored rich assholes in the world to entertain and this one right here isn't gonna cut it.”

The Frontman paused, “Where are you getting at, Ms. L/N?”

“Tell me about the game tomorrow,” you said with all the resolve you have left. “And allow me to have a say on it.”

“You’re a smart woman, Ms. L/N. You must be aware that conducting the games is a collective effort among hundreds of staff members. Why would our team agree to that?”

“Because,” you shifted on your seat, fully meeting his eyes behind the mask. “By tomorrow, I will give you something you can't refuse. For your team, and the games.”

The Frontman tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate. His hard, unreadable demeanor still makes you feel like a naive girl offering him your father’s money right as you stood in his empire.

“Funding for one of the facilities from our construction company. Even for something as big, or even larger than this one.”

He took a good look at you before replying, “ Do you know how many resources you’re willing to provide just for this one wish?”

You nodded.

Of course you do. You’ve calculated it at least three times before you stepped into his quarters, and you refused to calculate it again. Winning the bet will barely make up for the sum total of the cost. It won’t make your father happy, but he did promise he'd give you everything. Being his only daughter, he can excuse something this big.

Because in the few minutes you spent with Hyun-ju in that deadly maze you designed, the whole point of being on that island shifted from being a victorious bettor to being a masked savior. You don’t want the recognition, you don’t want Hyun-ju to be tangled in the mess you called your life. You have a say in what her future would be, and you intend to make the best of it.

“I’ll also provide the architectural plans for the next facility. As many as the games will require,” you added, fully squeezing out all you’re willing to sacrifice to the last drop.

The Frontman was quiet. Perhaps fascinated by your boldness in playing this dangerous game, your tenacity is as thick as the people he’s condemning to death every year on this island.

“The games end by 10 am tomorrow,” The Frontman said after a moment of silence. “I expect an indestructible proof of all these offers after that designated hour, or we'll have to take something equally precious.”

The Frontman clicked on the remote beside him, and the screen across from where you both sat flickered to life. Your breath hitched as you saw Hyun-ju's player profile on the screen, along with all the data about her that the site didn’t let you see.

The Frontman‘s way to tell you that you’re not in control. He is.

Below Hyun-ju's name and player number was:

BETTOR: Y/N.

As if she were just another thing that belongs to you, reduced to a number, reduced from the complex person that she is. It never sat right with you.

Before you could say anything else, the screen shifted into a live video from the cameras in the dormitory. Showing Hyun-ju, injured and struggling to sleep on her bed. The bandage you offered her was dark with dried blood.

“Upon your failure to comply,” the Frontman continued. “We’ll do everything in our power to ensure that Player 120 won’t make it to the final game.”

You hid the slight tremors in your hands, a permanent cold creeping up your neck. It makes you wonder whether you’ve laid out all your tricks too soon. It’s only the fifth game, and the person in control of the games has his eye on Hyun-ju.

The moment you made your proposal, Hyun-ju's future landed in your hands. It was the Frontman‘s own twisted way of giving you the control you’ve been dying to possess.

“You have yourself a deal,” you said finally, standing up.

On your way out, the Frontman called, “The fifth game is jump rope. Based on our agreement, you get a say in it.”

“Change it,” you said, hand around the doorknob. “Change it to a game that doesn't include jumping or running. Make it about aiming if that's possible. The player with the best aim wins.”

You opened the door and left.

Before entering your room to start the full night of work you signed up for, you paid a circle guard to slip the wound ointment in Player 120’s ration tomorrow.

The next morning, Hyun-ju received it with a note saying, “For your leg.” She looked around, watched the circle guard closely for half a minute. Despite the confusion, she kept it to herself and limped to the bathroom to apply it. As you made the arrangements for the contract and copied initial plans to a hard drive, you allowed yourself a glimpse of her. Even with the screen separating your worlds, she still felt hopelessly near. As if you can touch her with an outstretched hand and tell her to stay strong. You'll take care of the rest.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated, sweethearts <3

taglist: @sukunasthighmarkings101

#cho hyun-ju #cho hyunju #cho hyunju x reader #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju #hyun ju #hyun ju x reader #hyunju #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #squid game s2 #squid game season 2 #squid game s3 #squid game season 3 #✂ rem writes____✍︎

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bandsofmarv · 8 months ago

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What’s Your Favourite Horror Movie Pogue?

Rafe Cameron, consumed by an obsessive love for you, becomes Ghostface, murdering anyone he sees as a threat to his claim on you.

TW- murder, obsessive behaviour.

The Outer Banks was known for its beauty: golden sunsets, endless beaches, and the salty air that whispered promises of freedom. But lately, that promise felt like a lie. The town was gripped with fear, whispers of a masked killer spreading like wildfire. They called him Ghostface, a name plucked from horror movies but now real, haunting your life in ways you couldn’t escape.

What no one knew—what you didn’t know—was that the killer wasn’t some faceless stranger. It was Rafe Cameron.

And his obsession with you was the reason the killings had begun.

The first time you noticed something strange, it had been subtle. Rafe was always intense, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, his presence suffocating in a way that should have made you uncomfortable. But Rafe was also charming, magnetic even. You found yourself drawn to him despite the warnings in your head.

But as the days passed, his intensity deepened. He started showing up unannounced—at your work, outside your house, even at the places you went to clear your mind.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he’d say, flashing that disarming smile. “With everything going on, you can’t be too careful.”

At first, it felt sweet. Protective. But soon, it felt suffocating.

The murders began with strangers—people you didn’t know well enough to connect the dots. A lifeguard at the beach, a couple tourists who had wandered into the wrong part of town. The pattern was erratic at first, but then it started to hit closer to home.

You were with Sarah Cameron when she got the call about her boyfriend, Topper. The cops had found him in the woods, gutted like an animal. Sarah broke down in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and you couldn’t help but notice Rafe watching from the corner of the room.

His expression wasn’t one of grief. It was satisfaction.

The night it all came crashing down, you were alone in your house. The power had gone out during a storm, and you were sitting in the living room with a flashlight and your phone, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling over you.

That’s when you heard the knock at the door.

It wasn’t loud—just three soft taps, deliberate and slow.

“Who is it?” you called, your voice shaking.

No response.

You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the door, your heart pounding. When you peeked through the peephole, all you saw was darkness.

Then your phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number: You shouldn’t be alone.

Your blood ran cold.

Before you could react, the window behind you shattered, and a figure in black vaulted into the room. The scream caught in your throat as the figure lunged at you, pinning you to the floor.

The knife clattered from your hand as you struggled, but it was no use. The figure was too strong, too quick.

“Stop fighting,” the distorted voice said, low and mechanical through the voice modulator. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The masked figure pulled out a knife, holding it to your throat, but he didn’t press down. Instead, he leaned closer, tilting his head as if studying you.

Then, slowly, he removed the mask.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His eyes were wild, his lips curved into a twisted smile. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something dark. “I just needed to get rid of the distractions.”

“Distractions?” you echoed, your mind racing as realization hit.

“Topper. JJ. Sarah. They were all in the way. You couldn’t see it, but I did. They didn’t deserve to be near you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at him in horror. “You killed them? All of them?”

“I did it for you,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You shook your head, trying to inch away, but he grabbed your wrists, his grip bruising.

The room was suffocating, the walls closing in as Rafe knelt over you, the Ghostface mask discarded at his side. His wild blue eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven with exhilaration.

“Let me explain,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with madness. “You don’t understand now, but you will.”

You didn’t want to understand. Every instinct told you to fight, to scream, to do something, but his weight pinned you to the floor, and his manic gaze froze you in place.

“It started with Topper,” Rafe said, as if you’d asked for the story. “That guy was such an idiot, thinking he could push you around at parties, making those crude comments. I hated the way he looked at you.”

Your mind flashed to that night at the beach bonfire, when Topper had made some drunk joke about you being “the hottest Pogue.” You’d brushed it off, but Rafe had been furious, storming off without a word.

“I followed him that night,” Rafe continued, his tone calm, like he was recounting a mundane event. “He didn’t even hear me coming. One quick cut across the throat, and he went down like the pathetic little worm he was.”

You gagged, bile rising in your throat, but Rafe didn’t stop.

“And Sarah,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. “She was always trying to play the big sister, telling me to leave you alone. She didn’t get it. She thought she could warn you, but she didn’t realize how serious I was.”

Tears blurred your vision as you thought of Sarah—her kind smile, the way she’d pulled you aside to warn you about Rafe’s behavior.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said, his voice softening, almost regretful. “But she wouldn’t shut up. She was going to ruin everything. So, I took her out by the marsh. She fought hard, you know? Almost made me rethink it. Almost.”

He paused, studying your face as if gauging your reaction. “I made it quick. For her.”

“You’re a monster,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

His eyes darkened, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I did this for you. For us. You think I wanted to hurt you? To scare you? I had to. They were all trying to take you away from me.”

“JJ…” you started, your voice trembling.

Rafe grinned, leaning back slightly. “Oh, JJ was fun. He was always so cocky, always acting like he could protect you. I wanted to see him break.”

You remembered the day JJ’s body was found under the pier, the jagged “X” carved into his chest. The image would haunt you forever.

“He begged,” Rafe said, his tone almost giddy now. “He said, ‘Please, don’t do this.’ As if I’d ever listen to him. He didn’t deserve to be near you, Y/N. None of them did.”

“And Kie?” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe’s expression hardened. “Kie was the worst. She thought she was better than everyone, always pretending she was the voice of reason. She was a bad influence on you.”

You felt like you might vomit as he continued.

“She went down easy,” he said with a shrug. “I cornered her after you two said goodbye that night. She didn’t even see it coming. She was so distracted, thinking she could keep you safe. But she didn’t stand a chance.”

Your sobs grew louder, and Rafe’s demeanor shifted. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite the horrors he was describing.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It’s over now. It’s just us. No one else will ever hurt you, or distract you, or take you away from me.”

“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts fear and fury.

Rafe chuckled, leaning closer. “Maybe. But I’m also the only one who truly loves you. Don’t you see that? I did all of this for you.”

You stared into his eyes, the weight of his obsession crashing down on you. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to his humanity. Rafe Cameron wasn’t just insane—he was utterly and completely lost to his delusion.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t have to fight this. I’ve already won.”

His arrogance was your opening. Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you drove your knee upward, catching him off-guard. He grunted, the knife slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.

You didn’t think—you just moved. Scrambling to your feet, you bolted for the door, your heart pounding like a war drum.

“Y/N!” Rafe roared, his voice filled with both fury and disbelief.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you sprinted out into the stormy night, rain pelting your face and blurring your vision. The wind howled around you, carrying Rafe’s voice as he shouted your name.

You stumbled into the woods, branches clawing at your skin as you pushed deeper into the darkness. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your lungs burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.

Behind you, you could hear him crashing through the underbrush, relentless in his pursuit.

“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “You’re mine, Y/N! You’ll always be mine!”

————————————————————————

You didn’t know how long you ran, but eventually, you found yourself near the old marina. The boats swayed violently in the storm, their masts creaking like eerie sentinels. Desperation drove you forward as you searched for a hiding place, somewhere—anywhere—to catch your breath.

You spotted an abandoned boathouse and darted inside, slamming the door behind you. The smell of salt and damp wood filled your nostrils as you collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Rafe’s voice called out, eerily calm now.

Your heart plummeted as you realized he was inside.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your breathing as you pressed yourself deeper into the shadows.

“I know you’re here,” he said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “You think you can hide from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

He was closer now. Too close.

You glanced around frantically, your eyes landing on a rusted wrench lying on the floor nearby. Gripping it tightly, you prepared yourself. You had no choice.

The moment his shadow appeared in the doorway, you swung. The wrench connected with his shoulder, and he let out a furious snarl, staggering back.

“You really think you can get away from me?” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I have to try,” you said, your voice shaking but firm.

He lunged, and you ducked, slipping past him and back out into the storm. Your legs screamed in protest, your lungs on fire, but you didn’t stop. Not until you saw the headlights.

A car was coming down the old dirt road, its beams cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. You stumbled into the road, waving your arms frantically.

“Help!” you screamed. “Please, help me!”

The car screeched to a halt, and the driver—a local you vaguely recognized—jumped out.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, but before you could answer, Rafe emerged from the woods, his face twisted in rage.

“Don’t listen to her!” Rafe shouted, his tone switching to something almost pleading. “She’s confused—she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”

The driver hesitated, looking between the two of you.

“Please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “He’s going to kill me!”

That was all it took. The man stepped between you and Rafe, his stance protective.

But Rafe didn’t flinch. He simply smiled.

“Wrong move,” Rafe muttered before pulling a knife from his belt and plunging it into the man’s side.

You screamed as the man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the rain-soaked dirt.

“You see?” Rafe said, turning back to you, his knife dripping red. “There’s no one who can save you. No one who understands you like I do.”

————————————————————————

Days later, you woke up in a strange room, the faint scent of sea air filling your nose. Your wrists were bound, the rope digging into your skin.

Rafe sat in a chair nearby, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice tender. “No one’s going to take you away from me ever again.”

The reality settled over you like a shroud. You had escaped, but only briefly.

And now, there was no escape. Not from him. Not ever.

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anim-ttrpgs · 7 months ago

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A.N.I.M. Plans for January 2025

January 9th: Release Patreon Rewards

These will include a further updated and more finished version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, three short stories you may have heard me mention regarding the character Yvette Preux, the adventure modules, and, perhaps most excitingly, a sorta-playable preview of our upcoming new game, Silk&Dagger: A Sensible Drow RPG.

The best way to describe Silk&Dagger in a few sentences might be that it is a unique take on drow that explores what kind of society would actually result in the common tropes associated with them in fiction, and a game about slice-of-life in an oppressive underground society with strictly enforced social hierarchy and behavioral expectations for each social class. Most players will play servants, with one player playing a mistress, all trying to accomplish household tasks while each is weighed down by their own strict class expectations. Another player, a sort of co-GM representing the expectations of society at large, deducts and awards metacurrency based on how well each PC is sticking to what is expected of them. It is a black comedy, with a lot of the humor coming from just how overwhelmingly shitty this strict hierarchy-based society makes life for everyone, and the awkward hoops everyone has to jump through to keep up appearances.

The preview of Silk&Dagger coming to the patreon this month is not finished enough for me to call it fully playable, it doesn't even have proper character creation rules yet, but it does have enough rules and lore that you can get a good idea of how the game is supposed to play. Playtesters who have played this version with the help of me filling in the blanks verbally as we go have all said they really enjoyed it, though.

January 30th: Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Itchio Beta Update & Adventure Modules Release

January 2025 is when Eureka was originally supposed to be fully finished, but due to delays and, we will admit, an overambitious timeframe, Eureka just isn't fully finished this month. We will, however, be releasing what we have as an update to the free public beta on itchio. Work will still continue on Eureka as it has done, and we plan to have it fully finished by the end of this year at the absolute latest.

Along with this beta update of the rulebook, we are also releasing the beta for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Mystery Modules Vol 1., which will include the two other Eureka adventure modules that are finished enough to be fully playable: The Eye of Neptune and FORIVA: The Angel Game, both previously only available through our patreon.

And finally,

Make at Least $1,360.82

We need to make at least $1,360.82 in January to keep the studio afloat and for me to continue supporting myself primarily through A.N.I.M. At the time of writing this (January 7th, 2025), we are at $175.30/$1,360.82.

To this end, we are really banking on the Silk&Dagger preview to draw people to the patreon, and getting a lot of itchio sales for both the Eureka beta and the never-before-fully-public adventure modules in the last couple days of the month. If you want to support us and more sure we reach this goal, reblog this post and our other posts and talk about Eureka (we live-and-die on word-of-mouth), and if you want to financially support us directly, here are some links. Thank you for all of your wonderful support thus far.

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thirstkanaphan · 2 months ago

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Hello ! I'm new to Ateez, I have one question 😊 The search engine says Ateez does not have official positions apart from rap line, but I see that there are some unofficial assigned positions: Jongho being main vocalist, Sanhwa being lead vocalists, Yunwoo being main dancers, and Mingi being lead dancer. The results are a bit vague for Yeosang, what is his position ?

Hi Anon!

The unique thing about Ateez is the lack of fixed idol positions among the members. While Mingi and Hongjoong are ostensibly the main rappers, Jongho the main vocalist, and Yunho the dance leader, the emphasis on them being a performance group means that they all pretty much operate at the same high level. Almost all of them have rapped at some point (The Leaders) and all of them have sang at some point (Turbulence, Be With You). I think they've become very good at identifying who suits a certain role in a song regardless of what they've done before.

And what's interesting to me is how they've evolved over the years: San joined as a vocalist and became one of their dominant dancers/performers; Seonghwa joined as a rapper and became a vocalist (and for a time took over some of Mingi's rap parts during his hiatus). Yunho is a dancer who begins most of their songs. Wooyoung joined as a dancer but is known for having the "killing parts" in their songs and performances. Hongjoong is a rapper but his recent stint Moving Voices showed him to be an amazing vocalist. I was reminded of him doing Jongho's part in Bouncy when a few of them guested on Jonathan's show a few years ago. Jongho is the only one who seems limited to being the power vocal on the team, but his recent dance break with San during the 2024 Music Bank Global Festival confirmed that he has the chops. Mingi has used his solo projects like Tunnel and Autobahn to flex his vocal versatility.

Yeosang is often referred to as an all-rounder by the fandom: vocalist, dancer, and performer. It's well-known that he was a very popular trainee and sought-after by most companies. He chose KQ after leaving BitHit and Wooyoung followed him to Ateez. Yet since his debut in Ateez he has not received the same recognition for his talents as the other members, and there are many theories for why.

@peatbogbody has written a wonderful analysis of Yeosang's vocals and how they've been served and underserved by Ateez's discography; @storkmuffin has also shared their theories of how Yeosan'gs beauty and idol persona, and to some extent his own natural introversion and modulation to accommodate the feelings of others in his group, hindered his cultivation of the necessary competitive drive that fuels the Ateez machine. I've also written about how Yeosang has been perceived by the fandom with regards to fan service and how that's been used against him.

It's objective fact that Yeosang suffered from poor line distribution in the early years of Ateez.

@doiefy made a fantastic post about Ateez discography stats that everyone should read about how line distribution has changed over time (copied below from their post):

According to their data, "Yeosang's share of lines has increased by a net 76% since debut, while Jongho's has decreased by a net 77%"

While their data does not include GH1 and GH2, it would appear that the group has achieved a relative level of parity. The turning point appears to be 2022, about the time they released Halazia. For a song that was meant to be filler between cbs, it has become one of the most significant tracks in the Ateez discography. I don't think it's a coincidence that Yeosang was the breakout star of that era, due to the song highlighting his wonderfully low vocals.

I also love to point out what a great dancer he is and Halazia really showcases this:

I think that GH2 was also a good era for Yeosang in terms of getting better line distribution, killing moments, and dance solos. His MMA dance break is still talked about:

I recently wrote about the "re-branding" of Yeosang (and Wooyoung) after his Esquire Korea cover. To quote myself:

These two former BigHit trainees each dealt with image issues early in their careers: Yeosang's beauty dominated the external perception of him as an idol who was nothing more than a pretty face, while Wooyoung internally struggled with his physical appearance, recently exacerbated by his diagnosis of a skin condition that flares up in the heat.

In response to these pressures, Yeosang and Wooyoung took on different personas when they debuted as Ateez.

In Yeosang's case, he was "a Maltese who insists he's a Doberman." Yeosang's characterization as pure, innocent, and hapless was (and still is) reinforced by the members as part of their fan service. KQ also allegedly overruled Yeosang on his choice of a Doberman as a representative animal for their Aniteez characters and discouraged him from going to the gym, so as to preserve his slim physique.

Yeosang himself has said that he's not too bothered by the Maltese/Doberman bit; yet, at the same time, Yeosang shows his true self in his performance. He is the kind of dancer that takes up space; his movements are filled with unexpected swagger and ferocity. I noticed this during his MMA solo; again during his Sticky dance challenge, and most recently during the concert film. It was his attitude that entranced me, not (only) his visuals. Around this time, he began to bulk up, seemingly in control of his body's appearance for the first time in a while. He has solo music on the horizon and more schedules coming his way.

Whether or not you want to use the Doberman metaphor, the Esquire Korea feature feels like Yeosang reshaping his image.

Yeosang's poses draw attention to his bulging biceps, his large hands, veiny forearms, and exposed forehead. These attributes all signal traditional masculinity and almost aggressively sends the message: this is a man, not a "good boy."

My quote comes from a clip of Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung on Jaejoong's variety show. It should be noted that Jaejoong is considered the platonic ideal of a center visual. Jaejoong was allegedly blacklisted from entertainment after his lawsuit with SM led to the national elimination of the so-called idol "slave contracts" with entertainment companies, yet SM continues to use him as the visual blueprint with selecting idols. Jaejoong's compliments to Yeosang therefore feels almost double-edged: Yeosang fits the Jaejoong type, but there are certain expectations and pressures that come with this role, and consequences for stepping out of line.

Yeosang's Esquire photoshoot therefore feels transgressive and affirming, given how much he's tried to show the fandom how we've continually underestimated him.

Here's what Yeosang has said about the way fans perceive(d) him in last year's interview with GQ magazine:

He used the word "misguided" (so polite! so passive agressive!) which unfortunately still seems to be the case among certain parts of the fandom who either diminish his talents or refuse to engage with his very real and articulated desire for more dance solos, more opportunities for modeling, and the chance to sing and perform more than he already does. The latter part of the fandom, many of whom are self-professed Yeodongies, want the best for him but also seem to have a hard time accepting that this is a grown adult man with his own objectives and that keeping him confined to the "all rounder" position may do more harm than good in the long run.

If Yeosang can do everything well, then what exactly makes him stand out?

Once again, I am really optimistic about this comeback for Yeosang. I'm excited to see him further explore and define his own artistry. The Sangaissance is upon us!

#ateez #kang yeosang #ateez meta #song mingi #jeong yunho #park seonghwa #choi san #jung wooyoung #kim hongjoong #choi jongho #thirst answers

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one-of-many-journeys · 2 months ago

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Day 21

Cauldron Mu

Behind the door to the Cauldron core, the corridor was threaded with more orange-filled cables. From its oil gleam and consistency, it looked like Purgewater, or at least a component of it.

Sure enough, there was a Widemaw suspended in a light field in the centre of the core, being worked on by a mechanical arm. I set a couple of Purgewater traps between me and the machine, then overrode the core, causing the Cauldron to set its central prize free.

I thought I'd get through unscathed until a second Widemaw charged in. I doused the first, drenched by my traps, in frost bombs and rattled off a braced sharpshot, then a few standard arrows to pierce it while brittle, trying to keep focus on the vulnerable machine while dodging the attacks of its friend.

Once the first was down, I targeted one of the sparkers on the second, and it detonated at the same time as it fired off a glob of Purgewater, knocking me back. I landed well; no harm done. I struck the Widemaw at close range before tying it down and detonating its second power cell. That kept it stunned long enough to tear it apart with my spear and secure the core.

I overrode the core, downloading the overrides that came with the rest of its data, though some were corrupted and would need repair at the RCC lab.

I rode the core platform back up to the surface. A Scrounger was waiting right outside the door just waiting to be overridden with my newly-improved module. I fought the remaining two Scroungers at its side before the machine hacked past the override's effects, and I put it down too.

A Burrower next; a pair of them ran up to investigate the commotion. I overrode one and watched as the pair snapped and swung at each other.

Cute as a Watcher when they're not trying to kill you.

I headed back to my cave of spoils to rest for a few hours. I've missed out on some serious sleep these past couple of days.

I rode to the Oseram camp by the river, trading in my salvage from Shadow's Reach and Cauldron Mu. Steady profit to aid me on the journey further west.

I was hailed over by Gendas and Rushavid, who told me that their hired Oseram delvers had returned to Jagged Deep Dive since I'd cleared out the machines a fortnight past, and offered payment for my efforts. Their returns were good, but diminishing. I told them I hadn't found any further information on Gendas' precious 'tray', which seemed to disappoint the poor guy, who still held the hard drive in delicate reverence.

I made the short journey back up from the banks to Stone's Echo, hoping to find Milu there.

Indeed I did find her, deep in argument with Mian. She was trying to explain that she was not, in fact, a slave of the Carja huntress, but her student. Mian wouldn't listen, going on about the rot and ruin sure to follow barbarous outlanders. Milu cut her losses and came over to speak with me privately.

Unfortunately, Mian wasn't the only one in the village that shared her blind intolerance. Stone's Echo was particularly hostile, Milu said, thanks to its proximity to Riverwatch, from which the Red Raiders had launched their many attacks and dragged their prisoners after defeat. This place saw the worst of Carja brutality, and has not forgotten.

I told Milu about the path through the mountains now opened through the Regional Control Centre. I didn't tell her anything except where to find the entrance, knowing Talanah planned to go alone. I'm hoping she'll find the interior interesting enough to stick around with some coaxing from Varl, maybe even bump into Gaia...but I'm not sure. Her conviction to find this friend of hers seemed absolute.

Milu planned to continue her training far from her bitter little hometown, journeying north to a Hunting Ground north of Plainsong. I wished her luck on her way. She was still quite clearly awestruck by my presence, and when I praised her for being a skilled enough hunter to catch Talanah's attention, I nearly floored the kid. She'll go far, if I end up saving the world.

I stuck around for a meal, then left Stone's Echo in the early evening. The village was right by the trap-laden path said to be frequented by Shellwalker convoys. I still had that contract from Larend stuffed somewhere in my satchel. Whether he'd already sourced the parts from elsewhere or not, as far as I could tell by the clause, he was law-bound to pay up if I delivered.

Hidden in an alcove overlooking the path, I found the world's dustiest campsite. Useful provisions stockpiled, but my rest was fitful as I waited for the convoy to turn up. Still, it was rest, and I needed it.

I woke up covered in red muck to the sound of an approaching Shellwalker and its Burrower escorts.

I let one of the stone trap's loads fall free, crushing the Burrowers, then I was clear to focus fire on the Shellwalker. I snuck around it wearing my Stalker shield, setting an acid trap before landing my first strike. It stumbled into the trap then, and I loosed a few acid arrows to hasten the corroding effect. I stuck with my strategy honed in Cauldron Mu; braced shot to the shield generator, stunning it, then a flurry of explosive spikes to down it in a seething pile.

I collected the plating Larend needed for his armour—interior plating, of course, given the irreparable damage done to its exterior. I'll head back east and hand over the salvage in the morning.

Returning to Stone's Echo, I climbed to the lookout stations on a couple of the rooftops, taking in the vibrant lamp glow and flower beds, the gentle rumbles of Re's machinery at stilted rest.

I final settled down in the communal shelter late into the night. Too much sleeping today; I consider myself well and truly recovered. Now, just to wait for news from Gaia. I can't stand much more of this uncertainty.

#aloysjournal #hfw #horizon forbidden west #aloy sobeck #aloy #horizon #photomode

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heckogeck0 · 6 months ago

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Ok so I've been running the Starfinder 2e playtest module, A Cosmic Birthday, over the past few months with some friends, and it's been a wild time. First, I'm going to introduce the characters and a brief overview of what they've done so far. Once that's done, I'm gonna be talking about a scenario that occurs in the second chapter of the adventure that we just played through tonight.

Let's start with the general straight man of the group, Nova-5. Nova is an Android Solarian who uses their ability to harness the energy of space in combat. They like to collect trinkets, and they're slightly awkward in social interactions. Played and drawn by @winter-wolf-35

Next is Jinx, a short Pahtra Envoy who often serves as the face of the party. His go-to social tactic is to start crying and make everyone around him feel guilty. This works quite well. Played and drawn by @poolwaterbrine

Finally there's Xylophosphorialiquilitarxianiope, also known as Lindsey. Lindsey is a Barathu Witchwarper whose magical abilities seem to spawn from their delusions of grandeur. They're very slimy and VERY eager to tell anyone who will listen all about a cult they're trying to establish. Played and drawn by @rhoshilio

With introductions out of the way, let's get caught up on events so far. The party all found themselves on Absalom Station, the jewel of the Pact Worlds. In need of work, they found an odd job that led to some strange experiences when their elevator let them off in the Ghost Levels, a strange parallel dimension to the lower levels of the station filled with occult occurrences and all sorts of strange magic. They manage to fight their way through to a working elevator that let them escape, but now they're stuck in an unfamiliar part of the station until further notice. While they're here, they've been helping people around the neighborhood, and they've met a lot of new people! Last session, one such individual let them in on an idea for a bank heist, a way to get money back in the hands of those who had been wronged by the company running the bank. While the bank is usually very secure, security has been relocated elsewhere on the station due to a recent power surge that threw the whole station into lockdown. Eager to stick it to the man, the party decided to run over to the bank and scout things out...

The three walked into the lobby, looking around for security cameras to try and find any gaps that could be used to their advantage. While Nova sat down to read some brochures and continue scouting out security, Jinx and Lindsey got in line to talk to the lone teller at the desk. After waiting a few moments for an old lady to finish her business, they met Gavin, an overworked and forgetful young man. He explained a few things about the different accounts available and assured them that while he couldn't discuss specifics, the bank was quite capable of protecting any deposits they might choose to make. After some friendly back and forth, the party left to rest for the night and prepare for the heist to come.

After reviewing what they had learned, the group decided that the best way forward would likely be to don some disguises and try to get into the Employees Only area without being noticed. Considering that the bank branch was running on a skeleton crew, they decided to pretend that they were I.T. workers sent to check some of the bank's systems after the power surge to verify that everything was working properly. With this plan in mind, they went to purchase new outfits that would sell their fake identities.

With their masterful disguises procured, the three returned to the bank to take their shot at the loot within. As soon as they walked in, they were met with a problem. Gavan was working again. They were disguised, but they had made a bit of an impression the previous night. Fortunately, through the combined power of looking official enough and Gavan being distracted by a very long line of customers, they were able to walk right in. With one hurdle out of the way, they had to find their way to the vault. The crew began opening doors, seeing what they could find. They were lucky enough to find poor Gavan's security badge in the employee lounge. It seems he forgot it after his last break. Their luck soon ran out, however, when they stumbled into an office occupied by the other staff member on the clock, Katara. She, unlike Gavan, was skeptical of the group. Through the power of lying, Nova and Lindsey managed to convince her of their false identities. She agreed to lower the automated security systems while they went down to the vaults. Unfortunately, now that she was aware of their presence, she would be watching them on the security cameras.

The group walked down to the basement, past the automated turrets and laser web that would have caused trouble had they snuck their way down. Now they just had to figure out how to break into a safe while being watched. Lindsey proposed that they use their magical abilities to aid the process. As a witchwarper, Lindsey is able to manipulate the space around them, distorting their surroundings and providing cover for those within the distortion. This might give them the cover they need, but they'd have to pass it off as nothing. As Nova got to work disabling the mechanical lock, Lindsey proposed a way to distract Katara and provide an escape route for the safe crackers.

Two days prior, the crew visited a diner where Lindsey acquired a pancake that they chose to store in their slime. Lindsey suggested that, if Jinx were to ingest it, he could fake a medical emergency in the lobby to draw Katara away from the cameras. Jinx agreed to partake, choking it down before making his way back upstairs.

Upon his return, Katara asked what was wrong with the cameras, as she had noticed some strange distortions while watching them work. Continuing his cover as "teenager who doesn't want to be here", Jinx managed to brush off her questions while holding in the oncoming storm that had begun to churn within his belly. He could only do so for so long, however. As soon as he reached the lobby, he realized he had to make a choice: where to aim.

At this point, I should probably provide a trigger warning for emetophobia. This is unpleasant, and if you don't want to read about it, just skip ahead to the next paragraph. In a split second, Jinx decided to aim at a child in line. Upon rolling a natural 20 on the ranged attack roll to hit this child, the entire table erupted in laughter as we realized what was about to happen. Imagine, if you will, that you're a bored elementary schooler whose dad has brought you along to run some errands. You're growing bored as you wait in line, and suddenly someone not much taller than yourself busts through a nearby door. You only have about a second to react as they lock eyes with you before projectile vomiting in your direction. You open your mouth to scream in horror, only to realize that you should have kept it closed. The vomit blasts you in the face, muffling your screams and filling your open mouth. You can't help but vomit in return. An old woman in line behind you walks over to try and help you, only to slip and fall in the puddle of sick that surrounds you.

These are the events that Nova and Lindsey overheard on the phone as they chugged away at the locks before them. After a few moments, and despite a few missteps on Lindsey's part, the two were able to disable the mechanical lock. They were then able to swipe Gavan's security card to disable the second, computerized lock. They quickly packed up all of the loot they could fit in the duffel bag they had brought with them before making their way upstairs.

Luckily, Katara had been drawn away from her post, and she and Gavan had begun cleaning up the huge mess as customers poured out of the building. The party reunited, quickly making their escape before their crime was noticed.

I think the real lesson to be learned from all of this is that the best way to get away with an unofficial withdrawal is to make a large deposit of your own.

#starfinder #starfinder 2e #dnd #story time

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mariacallous · 3 months ago

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Artificial intelligence may be technology’s hottest topic—more important than electricity or fire, according to Google CEO Sundar Pichai—but another has a plausible claim to second. Digital public infrastructure, or DPI, does not loom as large as AI in the public or policymakers’ consciousness. Yet its recent adoption and impact—quieter, stealthier—are arguably as significant. According to Bill Gates, “DPI is revolutionizing the way entire nations serve their people, respond to crises, and grow their economies.” The United Nations Development Programme describes it as “a potential game-changer.”

Last October, a Global DPI Summit, the first of its kind, attracted more than 700 participants to the outskirts of Cairo; many were developing-world policymakers and entrepreneurs. They were drawn by a technology that has seen rapid uptake in countries as varied as Brazil, India, Ethiopia, Morocco, the Philippines, and Zambia. The spread of DPI has been especially noteworthy in the global south, where there are fears that the advent of AI could leave the region further behind the West in the realm of digital tech. Coming after a long litany of false promises and misapplied technology in the developing world, DPI may represent one of the first successful large-scale interventions to ease poverty, transform government services, and unleash innovation.

Beyond these specific benefits, DPI may also have broader, global ramifications. In an increasingly bifurcated technical landscape, characterized by superpower contestation and a crippling lack of cooperation, DPI offers something more constructive—the digital equivalent of the Non-Aligned Movement, perhaps, and a model for a more collaborative, inclusive digital ecosystem. The approach is not without its own risks and challenges; but done right, it could help revitalize that beleaguered and increasingly vilified phenomenon that we know as the internet.

Like many nascent technologies, DPI’s precise definition remains something of a work in progress. Conceived narrowly, the term relates to a set of publicly available tools for digital payments, identity, and data exchange, all combined in an integrated digital “stack.” More recently, a number of other domains and functions have been mooted as additions to this stack, including modules for education, agriculture, and energy conservation. Rather than a specific set of functions, then, DPI is perhaps most helpfully thought of as an approach—a “way of thinking,” as some have put it. In this broader conception, the goal of DPI is to shift certain core operations in the digital world—e.g., payments or authentication—from private to public management, so that they more closely resemble infrastructure. The World Bank calls DPI “common digital plumbing”; others draw analogies with roads or railway tracks. The underlying premise is that control of today’s digital ecosystem is overly concentrated in a handful of companies and states. DPI aims to redistribute the balance of power and provide a new foundation (“infrastructure”) for both public and private innovation.

Despite its recent prominence, DPI has arguably been around for at least a decade (even if it wasn’t always called as such—the term has really gained currency only over the last two or three years). India, the country most commonly associated with the approach, launched Aadhaar, its identity scheme, in 2009. Today, more than 1.3 billion Aadhaar cards have been issued, making it one of the more remarkable adoption stories in global technology. Estonia created X-Road, its widely adopted data exchange layer, in 2001. Brazil, another country frequently associated with the approach, launched its digital payments system, Pix, in 2020. DPI’s slow, incremental build has recently accelerated. According to a DPI map produced by David Eaves and colleagues at University College, London, over 100 countries now have (or are in the process of implementing) various forms of DPI.

There are many reasons for the enthusiasm. Policymakers have long looked to digital payments as a way to reduce “leakage” (a euphemism for corruption and other inefficiencies). By some estimates, DPI has saved the Indian government $34 billion by cutting out middlemen and reducing red tape. Advocates of DPI also cite its potential to foster inclusion—for example, by bringing the unbanked into the formal economy and enabling low- or zero-fee micropayments for small businesses. DPI has also benefited from good timing: Its star rose considerably during COVID, amid a general move toward a cashless economy.

Perhaps the biggest, if often unrecognized, catalyst for the approach has been a shifting geopolitical climate, especially as it has affected global technology governance over the last decade or so. Once upon a time, decisions about the internet were primarily reached through technocratic consensus, at bodies like the Internet Engineering Task Force, the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers (ICANN), or the International Telecommunication Union. This largely—if not entirely—depoliticized approach meant that technical standards and frameworks were chosen mostly on their merits, rather than because of national or ideological interest. (ICANN’s early 2000s adoption of international domain names to support non-Latin scripts was a good example.) That approach has all but broken down. Technology is increasingly central to public life, and technology policy has by extension become an instrument of statecraft. The internet and its underlying infrastructure are today subjects of heated geopolitical contestation, battles between what Columbia law professor Anu Bradford calls competing “digital empires.”

China and the United States are the biggest of these empires (Bradford also lists the European Union), and their increasingly zero-sum struggle to dominate virtually every aspect of technology—from standards to chips to privacy—has resulted in something of a digital Cold War. A new “virtual Berlin Wall” has arisen, forcing countries to choose sides between the unregulated mercantilism of American Big Tech and a statist, surveillance-based Chinese model. Beijing offers the developing world favorable financing and subsidized equipment, but these gifts (part of the country’s Digital Silk Road initiative) come laden with perils such as a loss of privacy and national autonomy. The alternative is often hardly more palatable: American tech companies pose very much the same risks. As Patrick Achi, the former prime minister of Ivory Coast, recently explained, countries like his are caught on the horns of a dilemma. “We are like subjects, without good choices,” he said. “Our digital futures are being determined in the big power centers.”

On this scorched landscape, DPI offers a welcome alternative—a potential “third way,” as the Dutch politician and commentator Marietje Schaake recently put it, a means for countries to chart their own course when it comes to managing data, digitizing government, and customizing applications to local needs. A budding ecology in Bengaluru now offers countries open-source modules and technical assistance to implement locally managed DPI solutions. These include the Modular Open Source Identity Platform, which allows countries to repurpose code for digital identities, and the recently launched “DPI-as-a-packaged-solution,” or DaaS, designed for “plug-and-play” implementation. Estonia’s open-source X-Road is likewise used by over 20 countries, including Cambodia, Brazil, Namibia, and Madagascar.

Such examples of modular, customizable, and domestically controlled software are particularly useful for smaller countries that have less technical and financial capacity. (Trinidad and Tobago, for example, is the first country to implement DaaS.) They make it easier to digitize economies, and they reduce the risks of superpower dependency. Because many of the tools are open source and interoperable, they also foster collaboration. Regional groupings such as the Gulf Cooperation Council, Association of Southeast Asian Nations, and the Caribbean Community have implemented or are considering cross-border integrations of identity and payment systems. India’s Unified Payments Interface has likewise been adopted in countries as varied as Nepal, Singapore, and France.

Technical integration is often symbiotic with political cooperation. By strengthening regional blocs and alliances, DPI may challenge the existing geopolitical order. For developing countries thus far at the mercy of superpowers and Big Tech, it holds out the prospects of achieving the much sought-after (yet often chimeric) goals of “digital sovereignty” and “digital independence.”

The DPI movement is young, still inchoate. As the approach gathers steam, its own limitations and challenges will become more apparent. Detractors point to the possibility of data breaches and other privacy violations, the risk that greater digitalization of public services could marginalize populations lacking technical literacy, and the danger that public investment could distort competition and markets. Every technical intervention represents a delicate balance of risk and opportunity; advocates of the approach argue that the right policies and governance frameworks can help bring out the positive potential of the technology.

The stakes of getting the balance right are huge—for the developing world, of course, but perhaps for the entire global digital ecosystem as well. The advent of AI has intensified geopolitical rivalries, and with them the risks of fragmentation, exclusion, and hyper-concentration that are already so prevalent. The prospects of a “Splinternet” have never appeared more real. The old dream of a global digital commons seems increasingly quaint; we are living amid what Yanis Varoufakis, the former Greek finance minister, calls “technofeudalism.”

DPI suggests it doesn’t have to be this way. The approach’s emphasis on loosening chokeholds, fostering collaboration, and reclaiming space from monopolies represents an effort to recuperate some of the internet’s original promise. At its most aspirational, DPI offers the potential for a new digital social contract: a rebalancing of public and private interests, a reorientation of the network so that it advances broad social goals even while fostering entrepreneurship and innovation. How fitting it would be if this new model were to emerge not from the entrenched powers that have so long guided the network, but from a handful of nations long confined to the periphery—now determined to take their seats at the table of global technology.

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thesims3help · 2 years ago

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Sims 3 - Gameplay enhancing mods: Sim, Social Interactions, Social Groups & More.

A category-based mod post. Mods and links previously featured in our Masterlist. All credits to their rightful owners.

Categories include: traits, romance, interactions, social groups, behaviour, lifetime wishes, illnesses, new abilities and similar related mods.

Autonomous Fun In The Sun

Bring "Mysterious Drinks" (Chemistry Set Potions) To Others

Ask To Join Fishing

Advice Social Interactions

Better Greet

Deep Conversations

Sleep on the couch, new interaction

Prank Calls

Sim Like Evil Interaction by Kuree (simlogical.com)

More Negative Moodlets

The Sims 3 Awkward moments & Humiliations "Immediate Interactions"

The Sims 3 Demonic Powers

The Sims 3 Passion And Romance

The Sims 3 V*olence And Aggression

The Sims 3 Disasters & Blessings "Immediate Interactions"

Have Sim Arrested Mod

Break into house Mod *ARREST UPDATE*

Back to Nature -- Lifetime Wishes for Farmers and Outdoorspeople

One with Nature

Better Rich and Famous Lifetime Wish - 1.67

nraas Vector - custom Disease mod; must download main Vector mod + wanted modules for diseases.

Enhanced Hospitals(Updated 30/1/23)

No Social Groups

No Rebel Social Group Influence from Adding Herb to Meal

More/Less Opportunities, No Answer Phone, Call Anytime, No auto smartphone tasks

nraas - Woohooer

Better Polyamory

Retuned Attraction System

More/Less Attraction Calls & Love Letters - 4 Flavors

Romantic Socials TYAE - Same Sex - Revised

More Traits for All Ages

Hidden Traits Unlocked

Hypochondriac Trait (Scripting Mod) [For Testing] - A Simlogical First by Sims MX

Higher/Lower LTR, Unhidden Traits, AllTraits for All Ages

Mod The Sims - **UPDATED: 26-July** Cigarette Smoking Mod - OVERHAUL

Let Me Take a Selfie (Update 9/3/23) - Pets Fix

Sunscreen

Acne Mod (Update 7/22/23) - Version 2.2

The Journal Mod

Take Sims To Court - Sue Sims, Become a Lawyer, Have Court Weddings and More!

Social Clubs Mod (+ banking) - Grow Memberships, Push Activities, Make Bank Accounts and More!

Truely Unique Sims

9 New Death Types

Just Sit (script mod)

Aging Manager

Faster shower, use toilet and brush teeth mod, including slower versions!

Relieve Bladder in the Shower

Pee Here (Scripting Mod) by Sims MX (simlogical.com) - Males pee on terrain.

Unrestricted Sponge Baths TYAE

Change At Home After Work

More waking up time for your sims, available in 5 cool flavors!

More/Less Alien Abductions

Lower/Higher Lifetime Reward Prices

Herb Nausea Mods

Midlife Crisis Tuning Mod

Weddings for inactives (new interaction)

Nosy sim interactions

#the sims 3 #sims 3 mods #ts3 mods #post 5

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orangameelectronics · 11 months ago

Video

youtube

Maximize Your Productivity with a Slim Power Bank Portable Charger 20000mAh

So, you're on the hunt for a power bank that will keep you charged up and ready to take on the day, right? Well, look no further because I've got just the thing for you - a slim Power Bank Portable Charger with a whopping 20000mAh capacity. Let me break down all the amazing features of this bad boy so you can see why it's the perfect companion for your busy lifestyle.

## Cell Type: 20000mAh 1260110*2

This power bank is equipped with a high-capacity 20000mAh cell type, which means you'll have plenty of juice to keep your devices powered up throughout the day. Whether you're out and about running errands or traveling for work, you can count on this power bank to keep your devices charged and ready to go.

## Support Display, But No LED Lightning

One cool feature of this power bank is that it supports display, allowing you to easily check the remaining battery life at a glance. While it doesn't have LED lightning, the display feature is a convenient way to make sure you never run out of power when you need it most.

## Input: 5V/2.1A; Output: 5V/2.1A

With a 5V/2.1A input and output, this power bank delivers fast charging speeds to keep your devices powered up in no time. Whether you're charging your smartphone, tablet, or other gadgets, you can trust that this power bank will get the job done quickly and efficiently.

## Built-in 4 Different Charging Cables

One of the best features of this power bank is the built-in 4 different charging cables, which means you'll never have to worry about forgetting your charging cables at home. With everything you need right at your fingertips, you can maximize your productivity and stay connected wherever you go.

So, there you have it - a detailed look at how a slim Power Bank Portable Charger 20000mAh can help you maximize your productivity and keep your devices powered up throughout the day. With its high capacity, fast charging speeds, and versatile interfaces, this power bank is the perfect companion for your busy lifestyle. Say goodbye to low battery anxiety and hello to endless power with this must-have gadget by your side.

#youtube #Power bank 5000mah #Power banks capacity #Power bank 10000mah #Power bank charger #Power bank for laptop #Power bank iPhone #Power bank Samsung #Power bank Apple #Power bank phone #Power bank xiaomi #Power bank quick charge #Power bank module #Power bank plane #Power bank in flight #Power bank solar #Power bank solar charger #Power bank case

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burstfoot · 7 months ago

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I'm still pretty new to Arknights, what's the thing with the bad alt? :o

Okay so back in 2021, Hypergryph had their first summer event that had a limited-run unit - for this banner, the big shiny unit was Ch’en the Holungday, who was controversial for numerous reasons:

First off, Arknights is supposed to be a fairly grim and serious story, and turning Ch’en, one of the stories main characters at the time during Arc 1 into a lazy swimsuit character seemed both out of character for her and like an easy cash grab by the devs.

To double on how silly she is, her codename is just a pun of her race (lung) and the word Holiday - a real tone shift to her grim story in Arc 1.

At that time, people only expected the CNY and two anniversary limited banners per year, and adding an extra limited banner frustrated people because it was very obviously trying to get people to break the bank through FOMO.

Secondly, Ch’en alter’s E2 artwork is really bad. Her E0 artwork is maybe a little revealing for Ch’en but is fairly tame for gacha swimsuit standards, but in her E2 art she’s in nothing but a minuscule bikini - though, most of the people in a fuss didn’t really care about that, they cared that her face looked really bad, drawing a lot of comparisons that she looked like Blaze instead of Ch’en. This led to them having to update her art in game! (Old artwork on the left.)

Third, she was crazy busted at the time, sometimes called the best unit in the game - having high damage, high defense shred, a passive slow while her skill was active and her skill being ammo-based, so you could often just set it and forget it without having to time skill activations. Her kit is also relatively uninspired - her first two skills are really just less powerful versions of her third skill, in my opinion, though I don’t know if that’s a common complaint.

Time has been a bit more kind to her - with Lone Trail, she got this beautiful L2D skin pictured above! As well, as alter shenanigans get more silly with dual-alter banners like So Long, Adele and limited alters of limited units like Wis’adel, her initial drama doesn’t seem as big of a deal. At this point, summer banners seem more or less normal.

Also, powercreep has gotten out of hand that she really isn’t that viable of a unit anymore - she does do good damage, but Młynar does better damage, has a passive taunt and massive HP pool, and almost costs 3x less to deploy than she does. I wouldn’t even really say she’s a top ten unit anymore, maybe not even top 20 - you just don’t see her used often much anymore so she’s mostly forgotten about! But I did use her to clear Big Sad Lock and some other fights in Chapter 8 & 9, so she’s served me well.

One last fun fact: she’s getting a module with the upcoming Nymph event, but her first talent has been bugged and doubled the listed effect since she was released, to the point that her 5th potential actually doesn’t upgrade her talent at all (Exu has a similar thing with her S3 being bugged and being significantly more powerful than it’s supposed to be).

What’s really funny though is that her module’s second upgrade changed it to be what it actually does in the code, but they didn’t go back and fix this bug or anything so her second module upgrade literally only changes the displayed text and nothing about her actual stats. If you want an actual upgrade to her talent you need to upgrade it to level 3!!

#arknights #ch’en the holungday #it’s hard to stay mad about chalter in 2025 but I do wish we got her Victoria or sui arc looks as alters instead!#burstmail

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getsunpower · 1 year ago

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Powering Your Home: Harnessing Solar Batteries for Efficiency, Savings, and Environmental Sustainability

Whether you're just dipping your toes into solar power or have been harnessing its benefits for years, integrating a solar battery can revolutionize your setup's efficiency and adaptability. These batteries capture excess energy from your panels, ensuring a continuous power supply even on overcast days or after sunset.

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palephilosopherautomaton · 26 days ago

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Chapter 7 — The Broken Tape

The surveillance room smelled of dust and heat — a forgotten nerve center tucked behind Ashfield’s power array. Rows of old monitors buzzed softly, most dark, some flickering in monochrome silence. A single technician nodded absently as Thorne waved him away with authority.

“This console isn’t linked to the central network anymore,” Thorne said. “They think it’s obsolete.”

He flipped a switch. A dull green glow came to life across the bank of screens.

Evelyn stood beside him, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “We’re looking for the Tuning Room. Leonard’s last sessions.”

Thorne keyed in a date — May 3rd — then cross-referenced it with the equipment logs.

One monitor sparked to life.

There he was.

Leonard sat in the middle of the Tuning Room, surrounded by machines that no longer made sense — strange coils, rotating prisms, a low-frequency pulse mapped across an oscilloscope. He looked exhausted. Pale. Wired with sensors. A tech stood just outside the frame, adjusting dials.

Then something strange.

Leonard turned his head. Toward the far corner of the room. There was no one there.

But he spoke anyway.

“Did you see it?” he asked. His voice was barely audible.

Thorne increased the volume.

There was a long pause.

Then — something responded.

Not words. Not a voice exactly. But a response — faint, unnatural, not from the microphones. A layered static, pulsing in rhythm. Almost like breathing, but mechanical. Intentional.

Evelyn stepped closer to the screen.

“Play it again,” she said.

Thorne rewound.

This time she saw it: a slight distortion in the corner Leonard spoke to. A blur. A shimmer, like heat on metal.

“He wasn’t hallucinating,” she whispered. “It was real. The machine brought it in.”

Thorne stared silently at the screen.

He didn’t argue.

Late that night, Evelyn crept through the maintenance corridor toward the A/V cabinet. The badge Thorne gave her buzzed weakly at the lock — three seconds of hesitation before the light turned green.

The cabinet room was cramped, lined with unmarked boxes and dusty playback devices. In the back, behind a rack of outdated intercom reels, she found it.

A reel labeled in faded black ink: L.C. Session — Raw Master

Her fingers ran across the surface. But when she lifted it, she saw the damage — the reel had been sliced. A jagged break cleaved the magnetic tape like a surgical wound.

She cursed under her breath.

Still, she took it.

Back in the Data Wing, Evelyn sat beneath a flickering desk lamp with splicing tape and magnifying glass in hand.

She worked for nearly an hour, piecing the reel together, aligning the threads. The sound would be messy, distorted. But maybe it would be enough.

She fed the reel into the playback machine.

Crackling static.

Then Leonard’s voice.

“Testing resonance modulation set D… no subject present… solo trial. If anything happens, log this: Voss is lying.”

The tape stuttered.

“They think I’m weakening. I’m not. I’m listening.”

A pause. Then, so softly she almost missed it:

“Eve… if you’re hearing this…”

Evelyn sat upright.

“…I’m already gone. But I’m not alone.”

The tape whined. A high-pitched shriek slipped through the speakers.

Then it came.

Not a word. Not a language.

A second voice layered beneath his.

It wasn’t human. It thought. Its cadence wasn’t emotional — it was analytical. Probing. A presence buried under white noise and pain.

Her chest tightened. Her hands trembled.

The lights above her flared white.

Then the machine popped, sparking from the reel head.

Evelyn staggered backward as smoke rose from the console.

Her ears rang. Blood from her nose hit the floor in small red drops.

The door burst open.

Thorne rushed in, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“What the hell happened?!”

She didn’t answer immediately.

She looked at him, eyes wide, voice low.

“He didn’t run. He was trying to stop it.”

Thorne didn’t speak.

But in his eyes, she saw it: recognition.

And fear.

Leonard wasn’t a victim.

He was a barricade.

And the barricade was broken.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #creative writing #writing ideas

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rachellesedai · 10 months ago

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The Seeker's Prayer

Here is part two of my story for the @inklings-challenge 2024!

Team: Lewis Genre: Space Travel Themes: Instruct the ignorant/Pray for living and dead Word Count: 3,229 [PART 1] | 3,839 [PART 2]

PART 2

Zavion awoke with a start, his datapad on his chest. A yellow blinking light indicated its power cell was drained. How long had he been asleep? The lights in the reading room were at a dim glow. The room was silent apart from the ever present soft whirr of the server banks. He stretched aching muscles and staggered to his feet. Carefully, he secured the manuscript he had requested, returning it to stasis. With a yawn, he gathered his few belongings and took a step toward the curtained entrance of the alcove. A flurry of urgent whispers anchored him to the spot. Shuffling footsteps followed a hushed exchange too low for him to make out. He peered out between the curtains and saw two emissaries with hoods drawn up hurrying down the hall.

Zavion watched as they approached a transportlift across the wide passage and entered a complex code. Zavion waited a long moment after the two had entered the lift and departed. He should really go back to his quarters and go to bed. Morning and another day of filing plastisheets would be here all too soon. With a sigh, Zavion walked over to the lift. He knew a mystery such as this would keep him awake for whatever was left of the night.

Thanks to a long afternoon helping Emissary Ilana Karri repair several malfunctioning transportlifts, he knew the admin code to recall the last destination. His hand trembled slightly as he punched in the code and entered the lift. His stomach dropped as the module descended swiftly, plunging deep into the mountain. The doors slid open onto a dark stone corridor that curved slightly to the left, making any guess to where it led impossible. The light from the lift cast a weak glow, but there was no other source of illumination. Zavion hesitated. He dug through his pockets and found his small reading light. Switching it on, he took a deep breath and entered the corridor. The lift slid shut behind him and he was alone in the dark.

Zavion reached out and placed one hand on the wall next to the lift. Holding his light high with his other hand, he followed the curve of the passage, winding ever deeper into the depths below the library. Voices brought him to a halt and he extinguished his light, feeling his way along until he could see a small group clustered in a large, open gallery carved out of the rock.

The central figure was reciting something, words that sent a tremor through him even before he recognized them. The man was speaking in High Dakari, a language only found in the Empire’s oldest records and no longer spoken by any living race. Zavion had studied it, like every serious scholar, but he had never expected to hear it outside of classroom recitations.

Translating in his head, he recognized a few familiar phrases. It was the Canticle of Avrum spoken in high chant, but a longer, more complex version than any he had ever heard. The ancient prayer was attributed to the Blessed Prophet himself. Its chief importance was in it being the oldest record of the Order’s mandate to spread throughout the galaxy and seek new species.

Zavion shook his head. What was going on here? Why were these emissaries meeting in the middle of the night? He edged closer. The rock wall was cool on his skin as he pressed against it. The chanting trailed off and silence reined for a few moments. Zavion held his breath.

A robed figure stood and raised his hands. “Let us pray together,” he said. Zavion held in a gasp. He knew that voice. Narrowing his eyes, he strained to make out details. It had to be Steward Ebrim. The man’s build was right and the voice was unmistakable. The group knelt on the hard ground and began to speak in turn. They were calling out to the creator, asking for his help, praising his goodness.

Zavion put a hand to his mouth. This was more than just a few brother emissaries being a little too obsessed with tradition. This could actually be a resurgence of the ancient Cult of the Seekers. Indignation and disbelief warred within him. The group started singing, a haunting melody that echoed off the walls of the corridor. He turned and fled. The last thing he wanted was to be caught spying by a group of fanatics.

Safe back in his quarters, Zavion paced the room. The situation was unheard of. What was he supposed to do? Reporting the aberration would definitely get him the transfer he wanted. Zavion flushed, ashamed of the thought as soon as it formed. He took a deep breath and tried to reconcile what he had seen with what he knew of the emissaries he had met since coming to Karatu.

Whatever their religious inclinations, the people here were good. Perhaps a little boring and scholarly for his taste, but they were certainly not rebels fomenting an overthrow of the Empire. He did not want to cause a scandal and throw the entire library into turmoil. Who knew how many reputations would be destroyed or how much scholarly work discredited?

“As long as I don’t let on I know their secret everything will be fine,” Zavion said to himself, “No one knows I saw anything. I’ll forget it ever happened.” With this decision made, Zavion changed into his nightclothes, climbed into bed, and proceeded to think about nothing else.

Zavion almost jumped out of his skin the next morning when Davix clapped his hand on his shoulder as he picked at the sweet bread he had brought back to the table for morning meal.

“Where were you last night?” Davix asked.

“What?” Zavion almost choked on a crumb of sweet bread, his mouth suddenly dry. “I wasn’t anywhere. Why?”

“We were going to play a game of stones before nightfall, but you weren’t in your rooms.” He laughed. “You weren’t poking around parts of the library you shouldn’t, were you?”

Zavion shook his head, his heart racing as he feigned what he hoped looked like casual indifference. “Nothing so interesting. I fell asleep in the reading room. I’m afraid I was much more concerned with Ebrim catching me out after curfew and quite forgot about our game.”

Davix shrugged. “No matter. We can try again tonight.” He paused, as if he were going to ask something else, but only shook his head and departed. Zavion breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling didn’t last long. His datapad beeped and Zavion looked to find a message from Steward Ebrim asking him to report to his study after morning meal.

Zavion disposed of the sweet bread, unable to eat another bite and drank down the last of his hot caf. He set the cup down with a trembling hand and forced himself to walk calmly to the steward’s study. Once there, Zavion knocked and waited for the man’s soft “enter” before opening the door.

Steward Ebrim sat at his desk, rifling through papers. He did not look up as Zavion entered, but continued to sort through the large stack of documents in front of him. Zavion stood straight, sweaty hands tightening into fists inside the sleeves of his robe.

“Sit,” Ebrim finally said, “I assume you have some questions.”

“About what?” Zavion stammered, folding himself into the chair opposite Ebrim.

“Don’t play me for the fool, my boy,” Ebrim said with a sharp look that seem to pin Zavion like a fly caught in a spider’s gaze, “I know you were there last night, in the catacombs.”

Zavion slumped. “How?”

“I take care to erase all record of our comings and goings on evenings like last night. An extra lift transport with your borrowed admin code was a bit obvious.”

“Oh.” Zavion sucked in a breath. He stared at Ebrim, who looked back calmly as if they were discussing an interesting point in a text they were translating. “Why?” he blurted out, “Why risk so much?”

Ebrim sighed. “A strong desire to know the truth and live accordingly.” He raised an eyebrow, his ears drooping as Zavion’s mouth fell open.

“What truth? There is no scientific proof that the creator exists. Even if it is the tradition of our Order to attribute our mandate to the Prophet Avrum, no one actually believes he communed with an all-powerful creator.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ebrim said, “The number of people who do believe is precisely why what you witnessed last night is so dangerous. I half expected the Matori to be on our doorstep this morning.”

Zavion blinked at his mention of the Empire’s elite shock troops. “The Matori?” He almost laughed, but the sound died in his throat at the sobering look in Ebrim’s eyes. “The situation might merit academic censure… a review of the participants work, perhaps…” he trailed off.

Ebrim shook his head. “To the Empire, the Seekers, beings throughout the galaxy who believe in the original mission of Avrum, are a real and present threat. They give no quarter when eradicating any who sympathize with our beliefs.”

Zavion took a shuddering breath. “Do you advocate overthrowing the Empress?”

“No.” Ebrim straightened. “We would like the truth to come out, of course, but mostly we want to be able to worship the Creator in peace.”

Zavion grasped his head in his hands. “What truth?” he almost shouted.

Ebrim tapped his fingers on the desk, his eyes narrowing. “I suppose it will do no harm to tell you at this point.” He leaned forward. “What we are taught about early galactic history is the barest outline of the events surrounding the foundation of the Empire. What most do not know is that we possess an abundance of records, both from that time period and the centuries following its early expansion.”

Zavion shook his head, the scholar within him offended that the texts he had spent so much time looking for might actually exist somewhere. “Why would the Empire suppress such knowledge?”

“Because it does not fit their narrative of how they gained supremacy. It is true that Avrum lived on Dakardr and his brother, Lexrun, was a leader of their people. However, Lexrun was only a prominent figure in what was a cooperative government of the planets orbiting the star, Alestria. It was Avrum who was held in high regard, even in the neighboring star systems. His writings were carefully preserved by his followers, the original emissaries. These men went out and spread the word of Avrum, which was a message of hope and a quest for something more.

As belief in the Creator spread, the Order became more established. They kept records on every species they encountered and soon had amassed more knowledge than any individual planet or system possessed. At first, they were consulted as intermediaries when disputes broke out between different groups. Systems came together, some more powerful than others. Dynasties rose and fell, but the Order remained. Then about six hundred years after the time of Avrum, the leaders of Dakardr decided that since their planet held all the knowledge, they should also hold all the power. Some among the emissaries agreed and allowed the government to use their knowledge of all the other species to conquer them.

As Dakardr’s power grew, the Order was relegated to a supporting role, and, as governments are wont to do, its ruling cooperative devolved into tyranny and the first true Emperor of Alestria was crowned.”

Zavion rubbed his forehead, trying to absorb this radically different version of what he held to be the history of his people. “Even if this is true, if the Empire’s rise to power wasn’t as clean and simple as most think, what does that have to do with your belief in the creator? How does it change the historical fact that Avrum was simply a wise man who brought people together and encouraged them to respect each species’ culture as adding to, instead of taking away from, their own?”

“Because the Empire hid more than its dubious beginnings,” Ebrim said, slapping his desk, “They suppressed the writings of Avrum himself, which give a completely different perspective on what our Order originally believed and what our very purpose is.”

“And what purpose is that? What are you seeking?”

Ebrim shook his head. “I’ve said enough. Much more and you won’t be able to claim ignorance.” He paused, his ears twitching. “What do you intend to do?”

Zavion blinked. “Do?”

“Are you going to report us to the Empire? I understand if you feel it your duty, but I hope I have gained enough respect in your eyes that you would inform me of your intentions.”

“I would never…” Zavion stammered, “I don’t agree with what you are doing, but I see no need to involve the Matori.”

“Very well.” Ebrim eyed him with interest. “I would ask you not to tell anyone about what we have discussed here or what you saw last night.”

Zavion stood and gave the steward a formal bow. “I give you my word,” he said, “but…” he paused, looking away, “May I ask more questions at a later date?”

“Of course,” Ebrim said, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “For now, you should get back to work. It wouldn’t do for today to seem any more unusual.”

Zavion nodded and left the study, his head in a whirl.

Zavion completed his daily routine, meticulously proofing plastisheets, packing them up for transport, and joining two other emissaries to help prepare the evening meal. He attended to each task with a laser focus that blocked out all other thoughts. He was beginning to think he might actually be able to proceed as if everything were normal when Davix showed up at his door for their game of stones.

Zavion pulled his only other chair over to his desk and Davix set up the pieces on the checkered board. They played a few moves in silence, Zavion losing two pieces to a careless mistake.

Davix eyed him as he collected the two white stones. “Head not in the game tonight?”

“I’m just tired,” Zavion replied.

Davix pushed an upright gray stone forward. “You were closeted with Steward Ebrim for quite a while this morning,” he said with a studied indifference.

The hairs on the back of Zavion’s arms stood on end. The statement seemed too pointed to be coincidental. He shrugged, moving an oval pearlescent stone to counter Davix’s move. “He found out I’ve been looking into a transfer.”

“You’ve been begging anyone who will listen,” Davix laughed. “Was he extolling the virtues of the library and the importance of the old ways?”

Zavion nodded, wondering what he meant by old ways. Did he suspect just how traditional Ebrim’s beliefs were? “It’s not that I don’t think it’s important,” Zavion said, trying to sound as annoyed as usual, “It’s just not for me.”

Davix nodded slowly, returning his attention to the game and Zavion’s shoulders relaxed. He was being paranoid. There was no double meaning behind his friend’s comment. He just needed a good night’s sleep and everything would go back to normal.

The next day was anything but normal. Zavion awoke to the entire library buzzing like an overturned skimmet’s nest. The great hall was deserted, plates of half-finished meals left abandoned, chairs pushed out or toppled over. Emissaries rushed to and fro down the passageways. Some gathered in tiny knots of heated conversation, others carried large satchels of belongings as if they were leaving on foot. Not a few glared at him when he tried to approach.

Panic rising in his chest, Zavion hurried to Steward Ebrim’s study. The door was ajar. He pushed it open to find Ebrim vaporizing a small pile of plastisheets.

“What is happening?” Zavion demanded from the doorway.

Ebrim’s eyes snapped up. “Oh. It’s you,” he said, waving Zavion forward, “I was about to come looking for you.”

“What?” Zavion’s knees wobbled as he made his way forward and grasped the back of the chair he had occupied the morning before.

“The Matori are coming,” Ebrim said, his voice crisp and matter of fact, “They will be here by nightfall.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Zavion stammered, his grip tightening until his knuckles whitened.

“I know,” Ebrim replied, “Which is why I wanted to speak to you. I need you to do something for me.”

Zavion nodded, his throat tightening on the millions of questions that flooded his mind. “Of course,” he choked out, “What do you need me to do?”

“Take this.” Ebrim removed the Star of Avrum from around his neck and held it out to Zavion. He accepted with trembling hands.

“I don’t understand.”

“Switch it with yours,” Ebrim said, turning back to his desk, “No one will notice. They are all identical to the naked eye.”

Zavion did as he was told. “What is special about this one?”

“It contains a data crystal with the writings of Avrum and the location of where we have hidden copies off all the ancient texts. That is what we have been doing here, preserving the knowledge before it is lost forever. If you find another Seeker pass it on, if not… Knowing the knowledge is out there will be enough.”

“Why are you trusting me with this?” Zavion swallowed. “And why can’t one of you take it out of here?”

Ebrim shook his head. “It is too late for that, my boy. The Matori will ferret out every last one of us. They will never suspect you, a fresh recruit who has been pestering every department imaginable for a transfer out of this ancient pile.” His eyes twinkled. “As for why I trust you…” Ebrim smiled, his ears perking up. “You have a good heart and you want to believe, I can feel it.”

Zavion held the pendant in both hands. “How do you know? That the Matori are coming,” he clarified.

“We intercepted a transmission late last night. It was the Ahiri.”

“Davix?” Zavion gasped. “It couldn’t be…” he faltered as he remembered his friend’s odd comments and the strange feeling he’d gotten the night before. His knees felt weak. “I don’t want to believe it,” he said, scrubbing at his eyes, “How could he betray you like that?”

“I told you. Most see the Seekers as subversives.” Ebrim shook his head. “Poor man, he probably felt he was doing his duty.” He sighed. “What’s done is done. Do not worry about him now. He is locked in his quarters where he can do no more harm.”

Zavion sank into the chair. “What are you going to do? Is there time for you to escape?”

“No. Some may try, but I am the Steward and the leader of our fellowship of Seekers. They will not rest until they find me.”

“What about me?” Zavion flushed, his cheeks hot. “Davix knows I have been spending a great deal of time under your tutelage.”

“Not enough,” Ebrim said, “There is so much I want to tell you, but there simply isn’t time. Remember this. We are seekers because we are looking for something.”

“What?” Zavion asked, leaning forward.

Ebrim shook his head. “There is too much to do. As for you, tell the Matori the truth about what you saw, even what I told you the next morning. Just keep what is in the star I gave you a secret. You will understand when you read it.” He put a firm hand on Zavion’s shoulder. “I pray that the Creator keep you safe.”

The next few hours played out much as Steward Ebrim had predicted. The Matori, fierce in their unadorned black armor descended upon the library, sealing exits and sequestering its inhabitants. No corner was left unchecked.

Zavion waited in his quarters, pacing up and down the small room. He had been questioned briefly, faring better than most, it seemed. Zavion shivered, unable to forget the screams that had echoed down the halls as he was escorted to his interview. He had done as Ebrim instructed, though shame had burned within him, fear had frozen it out. His rambling answers had satisfied the dour Matori, and he was sent back to his room like a naughty child. As he left, he had heard Davix’s name linked with his and the thought that the man had vouched for him made his stomach roil.

The next morning everyone was herded into the great hall. Zavion watched, a painful lump in his throat, as the Matori carted away racks of servers and cartons of stasis modules. His fellow emissaries were battered and bruised, some staring with vacant eyes, others openly weeping. Davix was nowhere to be seen.

A tall Matori with a red slash across his helmet strode into the room. “Bring forth the accused,” he bellowed.

Steward Ebrim and several other emissaries were marched in, their hands bound in flexicuffs. Zavion sucked in a breath. The prisoners all bore signs of a night spent enduring the Matori’s brutal interrogation methods. Bile rose as they were lined up against the wall.

This can’t be happening, Zavion thought. The tall Matori read something aloud about crimes against the Empire, but all Zavion heard was a high-pitched buzzing in his ears. The room seemed to spin and blur. The Matori raised their weapons. He couldn’t turn away.

Ebrim held his head high, his eyes still shining with cheerful confidence. He’s going to meet his creator, Zavion thought as weapons flashed and silence reigned.

Months passed before Zavion even dared to look at the data crystal. Finally given leave after his “ordeal,” he caught a ship home and trekked far out into the wooded wilderness beyond the tiny village he had hoped to never see again. Far from prying eyes, he spent several weeks translating the clue to the code to unlock the files. At last, with trembling hands, he accessed the writings of Avrum that Ebrim and the others had given their lives for.

In the stillness, I heard the Creator’s voice and he said, “Go and seek among the varied creatures of the cosmos. Make note of their stories and traditions, and in time you will find the blessed world, made holy by my hand. Its people I have anointed and have entrusted to them the truth that may know me and learn my ways. This sign I give to you, that you may know you have found my people. This blessed world is the single place in the vast universe where I, the Creator, entered into his own creation, spirit and matter, two natures, but one God.”

Zavion took a shuddering breath. He did not yet understand, but his heart was burning within his chest and he knew he wanted to believe. He wanted to know the Creator. He was a Seeker, like Ebrim. In a low whisper, he began to pray.

#inklingschallenge #team lewis #genre: space travel #theme: instruct #theme: pray #story: complete #rachel writes

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