#assetrisen

[fatherofmachine-a]

OOC; Juno and I luring @modifiedcode​ & @assetrisen​ back to their POI blogs like—

[griim]

@assetrisen​ Dollhouse plotted starter. 

Late nights of drinking and research had produced nothing, and a part of her wondered if her father had given up the whole Dollhouse thing. Because if he had, that made her life that much easier, not needing to worry that Matthew would someday recapture her and put her back in that hell. But what could she do if there was no evidence supporting the existence? Nearly calling it a night, something popped up on her screen, a familiar name and face. ‘Shaw? No. No fucking way…’ Sitting up, she enlarged the photo, and sure enough, it was her. Taking a closer look, she even recognized the license plant. It belonged to the house. Gemma would know that license plate anywhere. “Well, looks like either mistaken identity or they have something planned.” Following the car, to wherever it was going, she managed to find the building, one she had passed several times. ‘How could I be so fucking stupid. Of course, they would hide in semi-plane sight. They got away with that once.’ She scolded herself and began to pull up blueprints of the building. If she was going to go in, Gemma needed to make sure this would go off without a hitch.

“I’m comin’ Shaw,” even if the two did not have a friendship, the time they passed one another during the service made up for that. And, if the house got ahold of that mind, who knows what they could do with it. This was what worried her the most, she figured Shaw could handle herself, but she was not going to leave her hanging. After arriving, Gemma used the cover of night to sneak near a guard. Subduing them, she put on the uniform, and after shuttering briefly, she began to make her way through. All of this seemed like muscle memory. However, the terror still dwelled beneath the surface. Reaching a door, she used the badge on the uniform and slipped into the stairwell. Making her way down, she hoped that this would not end with a fight. But, in typical fashion, she brought weapons in case. Reaching where she believed the house was, she opened the door and slipped in. Things seemed quiet, far too uneventful for her liking. Her eyes scanned the area for the woman she was here for. The others would have to wait.

As feet walked along the carpet, memories of her time here made their way to the front of her mind. Deep inside, her mind screamed that she should not be here, that this could all have been a trap, and she was stupid enough to fall for it. However, she quickly rationalized it, knowing that if she sat back while they continued, who knows what they would do. "Shaw..." Gemma mutters, "come on... Don't tell me they dolled you up. I don't have the equipment to fix that shit." Gemma continued as she walked through the house, seemingly going unnoticed.

[analoginterface]

[!] starter requested recipient: @assetrisen​

   Emptiness is what it is. She’d been searching for the right word for the feeling for months now. Or was it weeks? Time was beginning to run together without — Regardless, it was emptiness. Silence. A stillness. A quiet inside her mind. But an empty hole carved from her torso. The feeling of her chest being caved in was a daily occurrence. It was a waking nightmare to have to re-calibrate herself to a functioning level before going about her daily routines. Even now, waiting for Simon Lee to emerge, the silence was crushing.

Shaw’s voice pulled her from her reflection, and she looked away - unable to think of what to say in response. Any other time, she’d offer a smile. A quirky quip to make Sameen roll her eyes. And yet.

The next few events happened in quick succession - the sound of gunfire providing an odd sense of comfort. At least it was there. Loud. Overpowering. The static missing from her implant had her teeth on edge, as if she were biting into something too hard over and over and over —

As they left the building, Root reached out towards the asset, fingers brushing too soft against her wrist. Softness was not needed. She needed to be pulled apart, torn asunder, put back together like the pieces of an old computer. Broken. Repaired. Over. And - Swallowing against the threatening spiral of dissociation, she tugged at Shaw to pull her to the side.

Talking to her about her feelings would not pass over well, so instead — “It’s planning to kill him. Finch will be contacting me soon to go over what we’ve learned, how we can help him.” Her voice twisted at the end, a slight edge of disgust and venom coating the words as if ‘help’ was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do then. Figuring out her own reasoning and motivation at the moment was beginning to become.. difficult. Moreso than usual.

“We have a moment.” Wrinkling her nose, she remembered that she’d set a precedent. Lying through her teeth, she continued, “Four minutes exactly.”

[fatherofmachine]

I always forget just HOW MUCH I absolutely love  Harold’s very first interaction with Shaw in Relevance.  Every time I watch it I get SO OVERWHELMED by it.  While Shaw does  reject his offer at first,  I feel like it’s a perfect illustration of how much he has GROWN from season 1,  from the very beginning.

His original  “ You can call me Mr. Finch ”  has now turned into “ You can call me Harold ”.  For the most part,  he holds almost unyielding eye contact,  his tone is softer,  kinder,  whilst also still maintaining an obviously authoritative air about him.  Instead of thinking of targeting weak points,  instead of laying out the things he knows about her  ( as he did with John originally ) .... INSTEAD,  he appeals to emotion,  a lack of judgement,  backed with that practicality of his still.  He is honest  in a more meaningful way by bringing up Cole,  but it’s an apology.  It’s saying I know that you cared about him  & I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.

I find this ESPECIALLY meaningful because Harold has absolutely read Shaw’s file,  he knows all  about her.  Most people would read about her personality disorder  &  immediately throw away any kind of attempt of emotionally reaching her,  but Harold does not do this.  At this point,  he has helped SO MANY DIFFERENT KINDS OF PEOPLE,  he is so much better  at reaching them  &  so that’s what he does.  He simply reaches.

What I REALLY like about that,  outside of the show meta,  is from a writing perspective ;  the whole first half of the episode,  they’re telling you that Shaw is a sociopath,  but with those little  but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel anything  pieces here  &  there.  &  THEN,  with this interaction with Harold,  it puts those pieces together very clearly with her line ( &  god damn  that facial expression acting ),   “ I never had many friends,  never had much use for them.  Cole was an exception.  &  He deserved better. ”  

&  THEN, Harold goes further later to ensure that Cole’s family believes that he died a hero.  While that was of course for his family,  that was also for Shaw.  

So anyway,  I’m REALLY FUCKIN EMOTIONAL about POI  &  Harold  &  Shaw’s friendship  &  I’m gonna cry,  thank u for coming to my TED talk.

[cursedbcrn]

tagged by: @rulestill, @dhampirslays, and @therebekahmikaelson (tagged my multi) tagging: you​

alias: Ace

gender: vague wavy hand motions but not cis

pronouns: she / they

astrological sign: December Capricorn

height: 5′4

sexuality: queer

hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

favourite animals: There is a special place in my heart for capybaras

average hours of sleep: lol depends which meds i take and what my pain levels are, but can range anywhere from 3-10 hours.

number of blankets: Usually just one comforter

where i am from: California

when i created this account: June 2020

why i created this account: Legacies was a pandemic watch and I loved my funky little tribrid SO much and her character really resonated with the types of characters I generally play and King was gonna make Josie so I figured I would give Hope a shot, even though I was deathly terrified of the TVDU rpc. I also desperately needed something to keep my mind off the Great Bar Debacle of 2020 and this fit the bill tbh.

followers: 234 (I have a question: why are you all here?)

other blogs: @founderscouncil (tvdu multi, semi-low activity), @silencedrage (oc and canon multi, very sporadic activity), @assetrisen (recently rebooted sameen shaw from person of interest, extremely low activity/plot-based)

[nyx-edits]

@assetrisen / we’re garbage

[jundlcndwastes-moved]

      JUNDLCNDWASTES’S SUMMER FOLLOW FOREVER

               I can’t say that I would still have Anna up and running if it wasn’t for the amazing people that took a chance on her and have embraced her in their hearts. It makes me so happy and smile so much whenever you guys tell me how much you adore her. Reading tags about how you love her makes me grin like an idiot and makes me feel so accomplished. If you’ve ever had an oc you know how hard it can be to get them off of the ground and get people interested. I’ve had her blog for years now and it’s been a lot of hard work that’s definitely paid off. Thank you for embracing her, the angst and sarcasm that follows, and the tenderness that she shows to those closest to her. This summer has been a lot of fun and I’m looking forward to seeing what more I can do with Anna if y’all’ll still have her! <3</small>

@aerynxsun ♥ @aurumpulvis ♥ @asycuwish ♥ @anciienteyes ♥ @anurbanlcgend ♥ @akastrlord ♥ @assetrisen ♥ @batisms ♥ @butlerrisms ♥ @bliindal  ♥ @bcthgreene ♥ @blvderunnvr ♥ @bitunsteady ♥ @badxmotivator ♥ @cahstle ♥ @cfmartyrs ♥ @cataclisms ♥ @codeb-b-b-breaker ♥ @coinkill ♥ @dedmerc ♥ @diversemonsters ♥ @diversifiedpersonas ♥ @embracemadness ♥ @egctism ♥ @erpbound ♥ @faithfuul ♥ @fatherofmachine ♥ @gatekeepcr ♥ @greenandmean ♥ @hescves ♥ @hehclps ♥ @hedeserted ♥ @hedefects ♥ @heleads ♥ @killypool ♥ @luckreflex ♥ @luckpwr ♥ @mcsterskywclker ♥ @microthief ♥ @mayantm ♥ @motherlyshe ♥ @modifiedcode ♥ @neverfittedin ♥ @onlyhopc ♥ @pyrrhicha ♥ @pigwithpersonality ♥ @poolstorybro ♥ @purestsouls ♥ @privateerings ♥ @projecteightysix ♥ @russiansteel ♥ @redsabered ♥ @redmachette ♥ @ricksmybitch ♥ @shefiights ♥ @spillcdblood ♥ @starkniight ♥ @sythegun ♥ @sheresists ♥ @semperfihunter ♥ @thedestrcyer ♥ @tvvolips ♥ @tatooinelight ♥ @spccncdeyc ♥ @waredsin ♥ @wclkingcarpet ♥ @wrenchflcwer ♥ @xxtakinitlikeachampxx ♥ @zoklotala

Stay true my friends,

               Christina

[wolfshielded]

Time to play a game called where is Ace? So I know because of my schedule, my blogs tend to fall to the wayside and get disorganized when I get busy, so consider this an early New Years’ resolution to keep myself on task. To do so, here is a list of the blogs where you can find me.

@wolfshielded - Single blog for Lauren Strucker from Marvel’s The Gifted. Currently my most active blog because she’s a muffin. This blog is moderate activity. 

@silencedrage - Multimuse for canon characters. This blog is low to moderate activity. This blog was recently revamped and going to do my best to spend some time there.

@assetrisen - Single blog for Sameen Shaw from Person of Interest. This blog is low activity. Shaw is my baby, but tends to be quite reticent at times, and forcing her to do anything is like forcing a cat to be nice to you. 

@lawforsaken - Multimuse for OCs. This blog is on hiatus currently. This blog will be going through a minor revamp in the next couple of weeks, but if you’re interested in OCs, head on over there. 

You’ll notice that the activity level doesn’t go above moderate. That’s on purpose because that’s about as much time I have to put into writing these days. However, this does not mean low/moderate effort. Every thread, every meme, every plot means a lot to me and I put all my effort in it. The activity level is more of an indication of how much time it may take for me to respond.

[youngbloodbuzz]

hordecommander replied to your post “hordecommander replied to your post “sg and poi time bc your latest...”

http://nyx-edits.tumblr.com/post/182594101831/assetrisen-were-garbage shaw x kara moodboard i made for funsies a while back lmfao

sdgkbsdnfkas i’m so weirdly into this what the hell lmfao

[fatherofmachine-a]

V; & I REMAIN WORRIED﹐  ABOUT WHAT SOMEONE ELSE MIGHT BUILD. SOMEONE WHO WASN’T WORRIED. ( .exe AU )

THE HARD DETAILS about this verse are now written in the verses page !!

❝ Oh … sometimes I wonder  if we couldn’t have done SOMETHING more … meaningful. ❞

The REASON he’d been so buried in his own work,  DESPITE the fact that it was unnecessary,  lurked beneath the surface of those words.  With the PROSPECT of The Machine,  Harold could see just how much good  they could have done.  Of course,  the RISKS were overbearing  &  likely too heavy for one pair of shoulders to bear,  but … but … all they were doing  now was making MONEY.  Nothing more  &  nothing LESS  &  it was slowly  beginning to drive Harold DEEPER into a place of pointlessness.  They had built IFT to change the world …  &  yet,  when they had the opportunity,  they had backed out  &  opted for just making MONEY,  instead.

❛ … You mean the D. O. D  project. ❜

NATHAN turned to look  at him,  brows TENSING like he was about to move into a lecture.  They’d had these CONVERSATIONS before … Harold couldn’t seem  to STOP thinking about it  &  at this  point,  he couldn’t help but feel like Nathan was tired  of circling back to it.  Harold had almost gotten KILLED,  this he knew ….  &  this was likely why his friend’s tone had a tinge  of IRRITATION weaved throughout.

❛ Harold,  that’s ANCIENT history. ❜

Barely half a second  passed  &  Harold felt himself BRISTLING—–he pushed  the feeling ASIDE,  however,  in place of a light  enthusiasm.

❝ I know,  but I SOMETIMES think that maybe  if we’d have kept TRYING,  maybe  it would’ve worked.  Maybe we could’ve  STOPPED those other attacks. ❞

Thin lips were curling  UPWARD with a giddy excitement that expanded within his chest,  as it was something Harold had ALWAYS wanted  to build,  if he were HONEST—–

❛  —–or  the attacks would’ve happened REGARDLESS.  We made the choice  that was right for US.  &  you can bet  if the government wants a system like that,  they’ll GET IT someday,  if they don’t have it already. ❜

(  &  you can bet if the government wants a system like that,  they’ll get it someday,  if they don’t have it already. )

THAT statement was what brought Harold back to the beginning.  He found it DIFFICULT to believe  that if anyone were to build the government a system with that much  POWER,  with so many unprecedented capabilities … that they would give ENOUGH THOUGHT to the safety  of people,  the PROTECTION of people’s rights.  They WOULDN’T be careful enough.  That idea ALONE had settled a heavy,  STIFLING feeling of worry  &  ANXIETY within his chest.  Thus,  Harold couldn’t stop himself from giving it one … more … try.

It took several  hours  &  Harold had long since lost track of TIME.  Once the SYSTEM was again  brought online,  Harold was adjusting the camera,  to ensure it had EYES as well as ears.

❝ There we go.  Now … can you SEE me ?  ❞

The Machine took a few seconds to analyze him,  horizontal  &  then vertical lines sweeping over his face,  followed by dots mapping out his features.  Then,  the YELLOW BOX appeared.  Blue eyes flickered down to regard his image on the screen before he again spoke.

❝ EXCELLENT.  Next  question: WHO AM I ? ❞

There was barely  a HALF SECOND of delay before the word ADMIN appeared on the right side,  next to the yellow box that encompassed his features  &  again,  eyes flickered down to regard the screen.  Harold couldn’t stop  the JOYOUS smile that bloomed across thin lips—–PERHAPS he had done it  this time ?

If the government already  HAD a system,  however … what was he to do if he HAD succeeded ?

[analoginterface]

‘ what are you trying to do, kill me? ’ - @assetrisen​

Root smirked--- A simple reaction, but it fit nonetheless. A huff of a chuckle reverberated between them. “Sweetie, if I were trying to kill you, you would know.” And she would, but thankfully the time they’d spent together, Root had only tried to maim or torture her-- Not necessarily kill. And yet, being stuck in this safe house was the the least bit of Shaw’s worries. The accusation was nothing short of amusing.  

“Now, do you want to pass the time doing something more fun or no? I don’t know about you, but having at least...” She clicked her tongue, and stared off into space for a moment-- Listening. “Seven more hours to kill sounds like the most boring thing in the world to do.. alone.” The smirk quirked, as did her eyebrows. “Don’t you want to talk?” 

[fatherofmachine]

SPECIFIC URL TAGS.

[analoginterface]

' you fucking died! ' - @assetrisen​

      “I didn’t have a choice!” The words came out sharp-- shaped like knives, meant to embed into Sameen and drive her point home. Her body followed suit--- A half step forward, body leaning, finger pointing. No. Jamming into her chest. The picture of someone angry ( hurt ), and ready to defend her ill-timed decision she’d made with The Machine. Even as her body tightened and wound up against itself, Root continued. “Just like you didn’t have a choice in the damn stock market!” 

And there it was the hammer against the dam, unleashing a flow of anger and emotion that threatened to drown and batter at Shaw. “If it wasn’t me, it was Harold. It was John. It was you for fuck’s sake.” The curses littered through her words were the fuel propelling the crescendo of her tone forward, near hysterics. “If you hadn’t sacrificed yourself, it was all of us. Am I not allowed to do the same for the greater good?! To protect the ones I love?!”

Her steps continued, pushing Sameen, crowding her space. “I died, so you could live. I died so The Machine could stand a fighting chance. So Harold would break free of his god-forsaken shackles that bound him only to good and good alone.” And that was it, everything that had been buried within, now out in the open. “Am I not allowed to be the ‘good guy’?” No, that was it. That was the key that unlocked the door to a shuddering breath and the tension in her body to release, causing it to sag. Useless skin and bones, useless pain, useless-- useless--- The word stuck in her mind, repeating, repeating. She sagged further until her knees gave way and she was on the cement floor--- not the subway, a new floor. Something similar, yet different. After all, she died ( the world changed, moved on. was she nothing but a harbinger of grief? ). 

The body leaned, her forehead colliding softly with fabric and flesh.

       “I’m sorry.” 

[analoginterface]

@assetrisen / sotto il dolore.

              “Damn it, Root.”         It must be a skill to be able to elicit that response from most people around her. Has to be. The gun felt like a dead weight in her hand as she waited for Shaw to actually go through with it. It was both a last ditch effort to end this and the truth. If she was going to pull the trigger, then so would she. That was that. Her finger was on the trigger and she was scared. More scared than she was ever been, but--- she’d said before. A good end would be a privilege. How much better could she get than some poetic Shakespearean example of love? It was childish. Stupid, in a way. But it made Shaw falter. Which was more than she could have ever asked for. Those three words were more than enough for her, it seemed. The smile on her face was sad --- not faltering --- and half amused. Of course she’d do the one thing that would make a touch of realization shine in Shaw’s eyes. Of course Samaritan would never be able to replicate Root’s own particular brand of crazy. This? This she was good at. Embracing the impulsive urges to the point where it actually benefits the situation at hand. 

             She supposed insanity had its perks.        In a way. Really, she was so focused on the tension of the moment that she hadn’t realized that Shaw brought the gun away from her head until it was already hanging loosely by her side. A beat later and she was pulling the gun away from her chin and shoving it back into her belt. Who cared about safety? Her smile was all but gone now, as she let Shaw study her face. As she watched the fingers go up to the touch and press behind her ear. 

      Her eyes narrowed as she took the subtle motion in and the tension didn’t leave Shaw’s body. The immediate danger was over, it seemed. But Root couldn’t bring it in her to make the first move, afraid that the gun would be whipped right back around and pressing to her chest. She’d been shot by her before. The pain wasn’t what she was afraid of. It hit her all at once, then. Just how close she’d been to losing her for good.  Her own hand went to her face and she leaned against the tree for support, fully sagging against it. The silent break was enough to let all the feelings she’d been trying to lock away break through her shoddily crafted walls. Like a dam bursting. Her breaths came in short gasps as she tried to get her hands to stop shaking. To try and keep the cool and collected Root that she knew Shaw found attractive. God, she couldn’t even fucking remember if Shaw had ever seen her have a panic attack. Had she?             This couldn’t be happening now.     Her head leaned back against the bark as she gripped and pulled at herself, willing the overwhelming everything of it all threatening to shake her apart at the seams. If this happened now, would Shaw see the opportunity to leave?  Her legs wouldn’t hold her. The useless knees of her human body went weak until she was sliding down the tree and was sitting on solid ground. The leather of her jacket protected her back from the scrape that would have happened from the less than graceful slide down and she pitched forward, holding her head in her hands. Shaw’s words echoed in her head.             “Damn it, Root.”     Damn it, Root, indeed. All the fears she’d had since that fateful day at the stock exchange seemed to rise to the surface now. All the relief she’d had at being so close and yet so far away. All the ache for her. All the longing. All the wishful thinking and dashed hopes. And Shaw was here. Not the same. But ALIVE. Which was so much more than she could have ever asked for. 

Shakes wrecked through her body as she tried to even out her breathing. A few minutes that felt like nothing more than an eternity passed and she was able to get it together. Able to look up and take her in. Alive. Still scraping and pressing harder behind her ear with a faraway look in her eyes. Her legs were still too weak to stand on, an after effect of this insanity that she hoped had its perks, but she spoke to get her attention.  “Sameen. Look at me.” Her voice still shook with her own fears and reliefs and pains and longing for her, but she put on a brave face. Acted like the tears that were cooling on her cheeks weren’t there. Acted like she was stronger than she was. “Shaw.” Which name had the simulation used? She had no way of knowing which would feel more real and which would feel more like a trick of the mind. Her fingers itched to reach for her, arms ached to wrap around her and hold her. To soothe whatever was in her head. To reassure her that she was the real Root. After all, could Samaritan really replicate just how uncool and not suave she really was?             ( For everything she postured and projected,               she was still that afraid little twelve year old kid,               yearning for something more and someone to love her. )  She had to keep going, then, to fight against that little thread of doubt that terrified her. “Sam,” Yet another attempt at a name that hopefully wouldn’t cause her to lurch forward and try to do something drastic. “Come here. Look at me and come here. Please.” The please was quiet, begging in a way that she didn’t usually like to show to her, but --- a necessity, she supposed. 

      “Talk to me about it.” 

[analoginterface]

[!] REQUESTEDSTARTER.txt recipient: @assetrisen

   “Sameen.” It’s her usual greeting with her usual lilt of tease, with no hint of anything underneath. Not with one word at least. She’s not wearing her customary dress or holding her customary new choice of lip color, as she would be here in the department store where she was sure Shaw was just picturing the deaths of each and every co-worker. Instead, her face was pale and clammy, and she favored one leg over the other. “Think you could take your lunch now?” She glanced towards the cameras, then shifted to turn her back towards it. This time the pain in her voice was obvious. 

[analoginterface]

‘ want me to stay? ’

    Root knows that she should try and at least attempt to be strong about this, even though another chill runs down her spine and she clutches at herself to fight off the panic taking hold in her body. It’s fine --- she doesn’t need to be taken care of. But before she can reason with herself that she can handle this, the words are already leaving her mouth. “Yes. Please.” quiet and breaking the awkward silence she’d left by not responding for so long. It takes her a beat to realize, then, “Not for long. Just a bit.”