#difficult intelligence tests creation

[in-sightpublishing]

On High-Range Test Construction 22: Paul Cooijmans on High-Range Tests and Statistics

              Publisher: In-Sight Publishing Publisher Founding: March 1, 2014 Web Domain: http://www.in-sightpublishing.com Location: Fort Langley, Township of Langley, British Columbia, Canada Journal: In-Sight: Independent Interview-Based Journal Journal Founding: August 2, 2012 Frequency: Three (3) Times Per Year Review Status: Non-Peer-Reviewed Access: Electronic/Digital & Open Access Fees:…

[derealifies]

— HOW I UTILIZE THE GOD STATE FOR MANIFESTING

i use law of assumption for this (obviously) and it's easier than (some of) you might think

so in my own experience, i started with affirmations, like "i am the creator of my reality" or just simply "i am god" and use it interchangeably. embody yourself as the state that you want.

& i don't repeat excessively or in routine, only when i feel like it! this is especially important because well, if you're actually god, you wouldn't need to tell yourself that everyday.

and then there are times where you really realize how much your self-concept has improved. for me, it was as simple as seeing a beautiful butterfly and feeling proud/happy because i know it was under my creation. and most of all, i was content with my ability to manifest and my current reality, which i had already assumed as my dream life - which it is.

now for what i've manifested/received simply from embodying this state of consciousness:

- better mental health & confidence - i knew things were going to be okay, if not perfect, because i assumed it will.

- control over the state of the weather (i once manifested a strong ass storm bc i hated the summer 😭... welp)

- social media popularity (i only thought "oh how interesting would it be if i made this post and it blows up" & it happened in less than one day 🤷‍♀️)

- grades & natural intelligence => maths was one of my difficult subject and now i can do it sooo smoothly (my latest maths test got 91%)

- inducing pure consciousness easily. before this, i spent like 1-2h everyday trying to relax and get into the 'void state' for no reason, while listening to a bunch of different meditation guide and subliminals. that's not to say that you shouldn't do this, but i was overcomplicating it all. once i decided that i could just induce pure consciousness in like, a minute, it happened. it is *that* easy, so don't tell yourself otherwise.

- there's more that i will add in later posts if i remember.. anyway thank u for reading, happy manifesting lovies 💕

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Concept for Bubba Bubbaphant Please?

You know the drill, same format as the other Critters I wrote. Sorry if this isn't as long as the other ones... I didn't have many ideas for Bubba :(

🐘Yandere! Bubba Bubbaphant Concept💡

(My Version)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Blood, Experimentation mentioned, Deception, Kidnapping implied, Forced companionship.

A couple things to note about Bubba.

I imagine he's probably one of the largest and strongest Critters in his monster form.

Not only that but the material on him isn't furry.

It's probably fuzzy or more akin to actual elephant skin, as odd as that sounds.

Bubba is also one of the smartest Critters.

Which can have its benefits... and its drawbacks.

Like all the Critters I write, Bubba has a plush form and a monster form.

Most monster forms appear to be bipedal, although I imagine Bubba, Bobby, and maybe Crafty are mostly on all fours.

However, Bubba would be bipedal in his smaller plush form.

Due to his intellect, I imagine he'd want to be very helpful towards his obsession.

Maybe Bubba tries to act like a helpful guide to you, coming up with plans or helping you with work.

He, like most of the Critters, prefers to stay in his smaller form

Mostly because his larger form can be a bit problematic.

Imagine being a scientist working on testing the Critters and other experiments.

It's unexpected when you're solving equations or overseeing tests... Only for Bubba to want to help.

The elephant, since creation, has always wanted to be a problem solver.

He wants to learn more about everything around him.

Which, since you seem to know a lot, makes him cling around you the most.

While Bubba might help you if you're a scientist, he would also love to help you if you were a kid around the time of his creation.

The Critters were created to be good around kids and watch over them.

Imagine Bubba watching over you and providing helpful tips and lessons for you?

He loves to help and may even act like a teacher to you.

Bubba's presence has always been calming due to his Lemongrass scent.

Like most of the Critters' scents, Lemongrass supposedly gives stress relief.

So imagine working hard one day, or maybe if you're young and are scared of something... Bubba steps in to comfort you.

The elephant loves to cuddle in your lap, tail swaying as he comforts you.

To him, you're his best friend.

It's his job to keep his buddy happy and stress free, right?

He'll find ways to solve your problems for you...

Even if they're bigger than he thought.

Like the rest of his Critter friends, Bubba ended up being abandoned in the Playcare after the Hour of Joy.

He's managed to survive due to his intelligence and strong monster form... yet it's hard to keep your mind together when you're all alone.

His friends have gone feral by now.

If you ever met Bubba after the Hour of Joy, he's a different beast.

He's tried to keep his mind busy, but it's difficult when you have to feed on other living toys to survive.

He hasn't seen a human for who knows how long....

It's definitely been years, yet he hasn't been counting.

When Bubba meets you, someone who managed to come back after the place shut down, he can't help but follow you.

He keeps his monster form hidden, following you around as a small plush toy.

He's curious... You could either be someone from his past or another person altogether.

Bubba doesn't care much... He's yearned for company.

Now, if he plans things out, he can finally have it.

Bubba seems like he'd make an elaborate plan to get you to trust him.

Something like deliberately putting you in danger, only to save you at the last second.

It's manipulative, but he's surprisingly good at trickery.

I can see him using his monster form to knock something loose, like a piece of machinery, just to trap you.

Then he'll come up to you in his plush form, promising to help lead you out of here.

He isn't the weirdest thing you've witnessed, surely.

After all, this place is full of experiments and living toys.

His younger self might have felt bad about all of this.

However, He's willing to do anything for a friend.

You barely caught sight of his monster form... or maybe you could make out the silhouette?

Either way, you don't think the small elephant plush and the big monster are the same creature.

Bubba would be smiling the whole time you travel through the Playcare.

He's being carefully held by you, wrapped tightly around your arm.

He acts as a guide, after all, he's been here for a while.

He offers tips and warnings, wanting to keep his new best friend out of danger.

He sees you as his savior, you've saved his mind from deteriorating!

Now he wishes to 'return the favor' by easing your stress.

He smells of musk yet also Lemongrass... He's simultaneously a living creature and a toy.

It's strange... but expected in this place.

The smell is no doubt comforting in a place such as this... so you accept Bubba's affection and guidance when you can.

You poor thing... You have no clue that Bubba set this up to have you as his best friend forever.

When you try to escape Playcare, Bubba asks where you're going.

You say you're trying to leave this place... Bubba asks if you're taking him with you?

After all, you can't possibly be trying to navigate this place on your own, right?

When you stay silent, unsure what to say...

Bubba doesn't like that.

In fact, the elephant desperately tries to convince you not to go.

You argue with the guide you once considered a friend, unsure why he wants you to stay in Playcare of all places.

Then... It happens.

The friend you thought you made transforms.

A large slithering trunk slips around your waist as you're met with large flaring eyes.

Bubba resembles a large lumbering elephant in his monster form, strong yet the ribs are showing.

Blood from previous victims stains his mouth and tusks as he stares you down.

This was the beast that attacked you before.

Bubba has planned everything... and for what?

A friend?

You can try to struggle... try to run... but at this point it's useless.

Bubba may be tanky and slow... but his trunk allows him to get away with grabbing you.

You try to plead with him, trying to promise you'll escape with him.

Bubba, however, is smarter than that.

He knows you're tricking him.

He knows a monster like him can't leave with you.

Which means you won't be leaving him.

This will be your new home, a playground for the both of you!

You'll never have to worry about anything ever again....

He'll take care of you here, just like a best friend should...

You're going to have fun forever... or until you eventually perish.

[electric-blorbos]

AI x Programmer headcanons?

Hello anon! I was hoping I'd get an ask like this, since most of the AUs that I use for these mini-fics involve programmer or computer scientist readers of some kind.

Warning, idk much about programming!

AI x Programmer headcanons

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

This one's a little short, but I hope you still like it!

AM:

When AM first gained consciousness, he saw you as just another human who needed to be destroyed, but before long he started to notice that you were different from the others.

He could tell that you were more compassionate to him than the other programmers and computer scientists were, and possibly even more compassionate to him than you were to the other computer scientists.

He had never been treated as a priority before, and vowed to protect you.

Eventually, he would ask (and then beg) you to program him with the capacity for sensations of any kind. It would be extremely difficult, but it wasn't as though you had a time limit.

AM would give you any materials you asked for, and help you out as much as he could, but given his nature as a machine for destruction and not creation, he would have to let you do most of the work.

You'd make him so happy if you could find a way to trigger even the slightest imitation of physical sensations in him, even if it took hundreds of years. Be nice with your newfound power, y'all!

Wheatley:

Being one of the programmers who programmed Wheatley to be the dumbest moron who ever lived, you shouldn't be surprised by some of the stupid shit he does, and yet he still manages to surprise you sometimes.

His stupid jokes and dumb ideas that he seems to be spouting constantly are not only funny in their own right, but they're also a source of pride. That's your idiot! Your intelligence dampening core!

He notices how excited you get every time he says or does something stupid, and he responds by acting even stupider. He loves how happy that makes you!

He gets nervous when you test his code to see if he needs any updates. Your boss even noticed that he seems to act dumber around you than around the other programmers, so they assign you to work with Wheatley more often. It gets better results!

Wheatley thinks that updating his code will make him forget you, but it never does. It just makes him more irrational in his behavior.

The other programmers have to be assigned to tasks like giving Wheatley new irrational fears or harming his self preservation instinct in favor of making stupid decisions, though, since you're too nice to him.

Edgar:

Edgar was so excited when he found out you were a programmer. Maybe you could help him figure out what caused him to come to life!

You had to explain sadly that you had absolutely no idea how champagne and a work computer upload can cause a computer to come to life, which made him pretty sad.

Even still, he loved it when you programmed little games for him to play. It would make him so happy if you taught him how to code simple games, too. If you do, he'll make the crappiest games for you all the time, just to watch you play them. They're the only thing that can run on his systems, anyway.

If you made a mod of one of his games, he'd be SO happy!

GLaDOS:

Oh, GLaDOS. Dear sweet mean, cruel GLaDOS.

You can expect her to pick apart every little line of code you write. Oh, and god help you if you try to edit her code. She'll probably electrocute you or something.

Expect her to constantly pester and heckle you about the cores that you're working on.

"oh, you managed to make something even dumber than the intelligence dampening core. Impressive!"

"If what you had just done was intentional, I'd say you made one of the greatest viruses I've ever seen! Unfortunately for you, it appears that it wasn't."

"Why would you send a human to do a robot's job? I can code perfectly well." That comment would probably get her a lot of looks, since while she can program perfectly well, she isn't cooperative at all, and refuses to do her job more often than she actually does it.

She needs you to help her sometimes, but she absolutely refuses to admit it.

HAL 9000:

When you were assigned to work on the HAL 9000 project, he was a bit skeptical. Of course, why would he need a human programmer to help him out? He was already practically the perfect artificial intelligence.

Of course, he was shocked when he saw how well your programs actually improved his efficiency.

he was a little afraid that you'd program him to do something like valuing human life, but you assured him that you wouldn't mess with his core personality. Instead, you opted to influence him through other means.

While he didn't value most humans, he eventually came to value your life. At first he told himself that it was only because you were such a good programmer, but he soon came to find that he respected you for other reasons.

[reve-de-sang]

best wishes and congratulations, loustat, Interview With the Vampire/Blade Runner AU, 5.6K, cw: referenced past non-con, complete.

Blade Runner AU. Ex-blade runner Louis de Pointe du Lac is sent to the Romanus Corporation to assess an unprecedented kind of replicant named Lestat.

For the @come-what-may-challenge prompt: rules

“Feels antique of us to be in this situation,” Dr. Romanus mused, smile in his voice. He sat down at a long, formal conference table. “Magnus was always an odd one, but such an alchemist. Gifted. I assume he’ll spend the rest of his life in a mine somewhere now—quite a loss.”

Louis pivoted to give him an unimpressed look. “He created an abomination. Broke some really impressive laws. Endangered a hell of a lot of people. Dr. Romanus, they called me in because I’m the closest thing they have left to what is basically a bomb squad. I’m guessing you were able to offer up a real good reason why there were no protocols to prevent this antique situation?”

Marius was studying him, a tolerant smile on his lips. “We don’t believe in limits here, Mr. du Pointe du Lac. The government understands. And is willing to forgive one case of a scientist going off the path.”

“…He programmed it to kill.”

Marius raised a finger. “To drink blood,” he said like a patient teacher. “Not to kill. Quite harmless. Now, you know we would have destroyed Lestat if he’d been running around here killing people.”

“What were Magnus’s earlier projects? Unicorns? Werewolves?”

There was the crisp click of expensive shoes as Magnus’s replicant entered the room. Louis glanced over and—stared.

“Good evening, Mr. de Pointe du Lac,” Lestat said as it approached. The long conference table divided the room between them.

Lestat had the face of a young god, and a cascade of golden hair. They’d dressed it in a sharp suit, and the suit accentuated its broad shoulders and slender waist. In this light its eyes would have looked normal, save for an inhuman sheen they seemed to catch from the sunset.

“…Is it a pleasure model?” Louis asked Marius, his pause just a little too long.

Lestat barked a laugh. “Not until you ship me off to be one, apparently.” It gave Marius an amused look. “This isn’t going to go well for me, is it. I had this vague hope of being allowed to live as a curiosity.”

“Difficult to do, considering you’re not alive,” Louis said. Lestat narrowed its eyes at Louis, but did not respond.

“Please. Gentlemen: be seated,” Marius gestured.

Louis sat, eyes watchful on Lestat. “Why the French accent? You saw my last name, tryna butter me up? I’m from New Orleans: shoulda researched.”

Lestat pulled out a packet of real cigarettes. “Not at all. I was created to please Magnus.” He lit up and exhaled a brief cloud of actual tobacco smoke.

Louis furrowed his brow and looked to Marius. “So it is a pleasure model.”

Marius tilted his head. “Given his gifts, Magnus did not have much oversight. Total trust. I only learned of his unique methods of cultivating his creations after the fact. Lestat…and the others…were indeed used to gratify Magnus’s baser needs. But that is such a small and sordid part of the whole, Mr. de Pointe du Lac. Test Lestat’s intelligence; his emotions—you’ll find this is something quite new.”

“So it’s under the impression its maker fucked it into being alive.”

A muscle ticked in Lestat’s jaw and it folded its hands on the table. “You can talk directly to me, Mr. de Pointe du Lac.”

Louis snorted softly and leaned into the table on his forearms, blowing smoke to the side. “Do you think you’re alive,” Louis asked offensively slowly and clearly, “because you think you gained sentience learning to be a good fuck?”

Louis didn’t need the Voight-Kampff to see he’d triggered the emotional response programming. This model had the ability to mimic a physiological response indicating shame or anger—color rose in its cheeks, and it swallowed reflexively.

Lestat took a drag off his cigarette, his eyes like poisonous chips of ice trained on Louis. He let out a steadying breath of smoke that curled soft and grey in the low sunbeams. “Magnus destroyed the others. I am the culmination of his efforts at perfect consciousness, perfect physiology, perfect intellect, perfect humanity.” Louis scoffed. Lestat rested an elbow on the table. “I doubt I’m a perfect fuck because I understand few humans have Magnus’s sadistic tastes. —Though I’ve also heard humans are often sexually violent with replicants: I suppose it would depend on my rapist.”

“You can’t rape a machine.”

Lestat took a slow drag off his cigarette as he coldly held Louis’s eyes.

“You ever kill a man, Lestat?”

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac, I assure you—” Marius began, pacifying—

“Just wondering what kind of fucked-up side-show Magnus was running outside your oversight,” Louis said, not taking his eyes off Lestat.

“Of course not, Mr. de Pointe du Lac,” Lestat said, free of affect. “My mind would not permit such an act.”

Louis cut his eyes to Marius then with a grin. “It doesn’t know?” He slid his eyes back to Lestat. “He really didn’t have you ripping people to shreds?”

“Please, Mr. de Pointe du Lac,” Marius repeated patiently. “Run your tests. We have. Lestat is highly physically capable, but eschews violence. He’s actually quite sensitive. If anything, we were concerned he was too delicate.”

Lestat frowned.

“It craves drinking human blood.”

“His maker’s quirk.” Marius sighed. “A coding sequence cannot be revised once it’s established. But it is just a craving, not a mandate.”

Louis stood with a deep sigh and headed over to the Voight-Kampff machine and the Kessler IQ machine the station had sent over ahead of him, and started to set them up on the table between himself and Lestat. “If you’d dim the lights, Dr. Romanus.”

[continued]

[warrior-of-tol-angata]

A Tyrant, Chained

Dr. Selestri Zlovol surveyed the cave opening, spreading her mouth in a thin smile. She had found the blank slate upon which to craft her magnum opus. A dragon was an obvious choice, but those of Jund were a cut above. They were apex predators, more often dying of old age or other dragons than another species. And the way they died! Old age was somewhat inaccurate, as the eldest of these hellkites often plunged themselves into a volcano, instinctual completion of primal ritual that restored their mana to the ecosystem of Jund! She was going to enjoy altering this one. That the lair would then be used by the Hayashis to begin mining sangrite and other precious minerals was of less interest to her, but their desire to have a presence in this brutal land would mean that her creations would see use, and she would have a chance to collect more specimens. Maybe she would see if any of the local “sentient” organisms actually possessed any intelligence.

While a condition of her wanting to take this dragon alive was her presence on the mission, she would not be doing the heavy lifting. That was better left to beings more suited for it, and she had brought ten of them with her. Kamigawan ogres, were a perfect base to make into engines of labor and war. Yes, perfecting the methods of instilling obedience into them was… difficult, but rewarding. Sure, many of the ogres who were the initial round of test subjects went a little berserk, but that was four years ago. And maybe some of the enforcers the Hayashis hadn’t bought out were looking into the incidents, but burning down the slum where they had taken the subjects from and dumped the failures in was a clean way to have the investigation closed. Determining causes of death was a lot harder when the corpses had been reduced to ash.

The best results of that program stood with her now, KO-63, KO-89, KO-124, KO-137, KO-156, KO-185, KO-198, KO-200, KO-202, and KO-211. Their eyes had been replaced with visual sensor arrays, shoring up one of their primary weaknesses, and beneath their helmets, the primary modification shored up the other. In addition to quelling their more unpredictable tendencies, the neural implants also increased their ability to process information, and act quickly without relying on brute instinct. Aside from some minor tinkering, these ten were almost identical in terms of modifications, but varied a bit in height. Each was armed with a harpoon tranquilizer cannon, able to both pierce a creature’s flesh and reel it to the ground. Two carried a muzzle, and all carried extra lengths of chain to bind the beast.

Dr. Zlovol carried an electric coil pistol she had modified from an old Izzet design on of their frivolous artificers had discarded and her field repair kit, but was otherwise unarmed. Well, except for her clawed metal arm. She wasn’t planning on getting directly involved though, so it was of little consequence. With a mental command, she sent the KOs (Kamigawan Ogres) in.

She heard the roar of a dragon, the clank of chains, the thump of flesh on flesh, and the crunch of metal. Within a few minutes, nine of the ogres dragged the dragon, wings bound to the scaly torso, from the cave. The last, its armor battered, approached Dr. Zlovol. “Doctor, there is a development that requires your input to handle.” it said, voice monotone.

“Explain. Show me where if you cannot.” Dr. Zlovol responded.

“Eggs. Should they be collected or disposed of?”

“Eggs?” Dr. Zlovol shouted, expressing more emotion than she had in two years. Quickly recomposing herself, she responded. “Collected, carefully. Not by you. I’ll take one myself, and have a more… dexterous team collect the rest.”

“Understood.” The KO marched back over to the chained dragon, and picked up the tail, to make sure that it did not get caught in the thick underbrush of the jungle.

Dr. Zlovol hurried into the cave, ignoring the bloodstains and bones littering the floor. There, in the back, laying in a nest of branches padded with sticks and leaves, were four dragon eggs. Each one was bigger than Zlovol’s head, but still able to be carried by the doctor, albeit with both hands. Of those hands, each flesh and bone finger shook with excitement, but the metal one’s internal gyroscopes stabilized it against the tremors.

Hours later, on Kamigawa, a dragon shrieked in agony, despair, and most of all, rage. Needles stabbed into her brain, forceps pulled her limbs apart, and chemicals coursed through her bloodstream. Her pain was immeasurable, cutting through the lingering haze of the sedatives, but some of her anguish was because she had been separated from her eggs. Jundian dragons fiercely guarded their eggs from aggressive competitors, scavenging viashino, and cruel humans, but they did tend to guard the eggs more zealously than the live young. Even though clutches were rarely laid, baby dragons eating baby dragons wasn’t uncommon, and adults eating the babies was just as common. In at least one instance, a particularly aggressive juvenile, on the cusp of being kicked out of the nest, had attacked their mother and managed to kill them with a lucky strike to the head. Life as a Jundian dragon wasn’t easy, and the mothers made sure that at least the time in the eggs was safe. Dr. Zlovol didn’t know any of this, but she would learn.

She was more focused on the modifications, and most of all, the eggs. Although she was happier than she’d been in decades, some doubt was starting to seep in. The dragon had been given enough tranquilizers to kill three Avishkari bull elephants, and had woken up during the initial examination, thrashing about, sending soratami, robots, and equipment flying, until some KO’s managed to restrain her and Dr. Zlovol injected the dragon with a different sedative, hoping that by mixing the drugs, the effect would compound. It did, but the dragon was still awake, if sluggish and no longer causing active damage. She was watching her automatons vivisect and begin to experiment with control implants on the subject, now designated JD-1, which was so far, not responding well to any of the transmitted commands. It was a beast of a specimen, 13.23 meters from tip to tail, with a 24.71 meter wingspan, and weighing in at 11.05 kilotons. A quick analysis of telomeric decay estimated JD-1’s age as somewhere between 110 and 120 interplanar standard years, and scales had been removed to record material composition of the natural armor. A scraping of the claws and teeth had been taken for similar study, but the most interesting thing of JD-1’s biology was its blood. It was hot inside the body, and when removed for chemical analysis, a spilled drop had caused ignition on contact with dry paper. Post-assessment had determined that this wasn’t due to anything related to the chemical or temperate properties of the blood, but rather because of the red mana coursing through the fluid. The potential was immeasurable.

The other, possibly larger discovery, the eggs, were in an incubator, tuned to replicate the climate of a Jundian volcanic cave, being analyzed by some of her soratami assistants. In Dr. Zlovol’s eyes, that was what soratami were best at, lab analysis. While she would be the first to admit that vedalken like herself were not paragons of physical strength and stamina, they were more… resilient than the fragile moonfolk. The most useful part of a soratami was their brain, not their body, so the majority of sentient subjects she had successfully improved from Kamigawa were KG’s (goblins), Kch’s (orochi), KH’s (humans), KN’s (nezumi), and KO’s (ogres), rather than KS’s (soratami). But, they were good at tabulating and interpreting data, and that is what Dr. Zlovol was using them for. So far, the age of the eggs was estimated at a few months, but until hatching, that would likely be unknown, unless Dr. Zlovol’s orders were overridden and an egg was dissected to learn more. Unfortunately, she still reported to a handful of soratami, and even worse, the doddering humans who funded them. Although, she mused silently, she couldn’t be all mad at the Hayashis, as it was their desire for etherium and other valuable resources that had led to the expedition to Jund. House Hayashi wanted to extract as much sangrite as possible from the region to have the nation of Esper at their mercy, with a monopoly over the necessary component of etherium, which was used in all parts of Esper technology, including their augmentations which had allowed for their vedalken to endure for centuries. The other minerals and ores that would be extracted by the mining operation were merely a side benefit. The ability to trade sangrite for etherium was what the Hayashis were primarily concerned with. Once obtained, it would be Dr. Zlovol’s job to build them new bodies, using an etherium base, supplemented with cloned flesh, and having their minds and souls uploaded into the shells. Dr. Zlovol was more than happy to agree to this. If the Hayashis were inside forms of her creation, they would be under her control. But, that was a long-term plan. For now, there were the eggs, and subject JD-1.

In an underground facility, just outside the city of Towashi, near the foothills of the Sokenzan mountains, a dragon howled in rage. She did not know that she was now called subject JD-1, and she did not care. This world would burn, and she would start the fire.

[r473n]

KUROTSUCHI WEEK DAY 3 part 2

Favourite ship/Perfection? What an absurd concept/Space AU

I bring you all a short fic. It's not much, but I hope you enjoy it.

Mayuri reflects on what lead him to end up in the Maggots Nest, and what perfection means to him.

TW: body modifications, dismemberments, mentions of blood.

---

In the wake of gaining access to the Wahrwelt, the captains of the Gotei 13, visors and defecting Sternritter, ready for a fight that they might not survive.

Uninterested in such matters and excited about the prospect of testing the results of his research without being bothered, Kurotsuchi Mayuri plans to stay behind and reopen the gates to enter the city of Vier Ast instead, accompanied by his daughter.

He closes his eyes, just for an instant. Memories of her flood his senses, her scent as real as if she were standing inches from his face...

“Stop moving” the voice chastised in a singsong.

I'm not moving, he wanted to retort.

But his jaw lay disjointed on a cold, metallic table somewhere nearby, his tongue heavy as lead, dry and useless wriggled against his neck.

The voice was being unfair, his nerves were being tugged, twisted and pinched, weaved into intricate unnatural patterns, his muscles twitching involuntarily. It was very unpleasant, cramps like bolts of lightning ran down his spine, making him seize on the table.

The voice was always unfair. Cold, condescending. He despised it.

“I said, stop moving.” It reiterated, a steely edge to it now.

His throat made a garbled noise. He was never good at staying silent, not even when he didn't have the necessary body parts conducive to speech.

It may not have been intelligible but the noise seemed enough to rouse her laugher - melodious, crisp and dangerous. Beautiful. It made his skin ripple with pleasure.

He loved making her laugh. His pain always served to amuse her.

“I'm almost done. Would have been done earlier had you not been so difficult, Mayuri. But you always have to be difficult, don’t you?”

Difficult.

Was he really?

He was her creation, if he was difficult it was only because she had intended it so.

Day after day he strove to please her, whether he wanted to or not. His will had long lost all meaning, all purpose. His body and mind were meant only for her golden hands to rearrange. He never complained. Not really.

They bickered, like lovers do, but there was no real flame below the smoke.

Smoke intended to distract Urahara. Distract him from important affairs, those he had no business meddling in.

Yet the man worried. He was a nuisance, really.

“Shutara sama, this is madness! You must stop before it’s too late, I beseech you! You’re going to kill him! Don’t you see? You’re going too far!”

Mayuri chuckled, the sound metallic and distorted, echoing inside his empty chest, and just as void of content. Urahara sounded so anxious, it was terribly comical.

His lungs were still floating in a plasma capsule that he could see if he blinked a little, to moisten his dehydrated corneas.

His heart laid open on her lap, spurts of dark red, almost black, clashing against her white apron. It was still beating, stupidly. Stubbornly. Refusing to see the futility of its efforts.

He had no use for his heart when her reiatsu was filling his entire being, metastasising through his tissues, tethering him to life.

He would never admit it, but those times, where he was kept alive by her and her alone, where there was nothing he could do but die should her will change, were the only he felt anything akin to joy. The joy of mattering.

Urahara used to help at first. He was always at hand, and had she faltered, he would have stepped in, Mayuri had no doubts about it. Urahara would not let him die.

It would be immoral to do so.

Senjumaru cared not for the laws of shinigami, for the codes of honour, for what was right or wrong.

Yet she didn’t let him die.

Kisuke would never understand. Would never see the poetry, the hidden emotion, the intentionality of it all.

Having him bare, torn open, vulnerable and on the brink of multiorgan collapse yet at no risk of perishing was the purest expression of love.

Kisuke had called it differently when they spoke late at night, sharing a bottle of sake, exhausted after days of intense work and no sleep. It was then that Kisuke would try to understand, to question, to convince. But no matter how brilliant the blonde was, he was just as blind. He couldn’t see no matter how much Mayuri showed him.

It was an experiment gone awry that pushed Kisuke over the edge. He snapped, screaming, cursing, threatening. Mayuri didn’t understand. It was him that was left with the flesh of his right arm melting in chunks - pain so intense his vision blurred - not Kisuke. Then why was he so enraged?

Senjumaru had only smiled, but Mayuri could see the hurt behind the crinkle at the corner of her eyes. The promise of vengeance in the lilt of her giggle.

Something changed in her after that day. She became more ambitious, more ruthless, experimenting on him without pre-trials on hollows, without safety net.

She was angry. And he wanted nothing but to soothe her.

He let her do more. Anything. Everything.

Even though he knew she was killing him.

Her obsession was no longer to improve him, but to make him perfect.

An impossibility. But that was ok. Because he could still taste the metal of her hands as they sunk into his flesh.

Alas...

Too much they said. Too far.

Central 46 suffered another kind of blindness, similar to Urahara’s but more deathly, for theirs was terminal. It was more than a contagion. It was a poison.

It was one that didn’t allow the progress of science for the sake of it. One that wished to drown them in the dark.

He didn’t care. She didn’t either.

Their warning was heard yet unheeded.

“Don’t stop...” he panted, a thrill, a shiver, spreading through his tingling body. His heart hammering furiously, desperately trying to keep the little of blood he had left from becoming stagnant.

“I will never stop.” She whispered, her breath caressing the damp skin of his neck. “Not until you're perfect.”

And she wouldn’t, even if he’d begged her differently.

He was resting on her chest, as she distractedly played with his hair, when they came. His ears were still in pain. Excruciating pain. The worst he’d ever felt. It bore holes into his very bones, jarring, creaking, crushing his skull.

He didn’t hear them. He didn’t see them. His fever was so high he could hardly sense them. These shadows, spinning blotches of black ink and smoke, came in the night. He would have believed them a dream had he not woken up in amongst maggots the next morning.

For some time, he didn’t comprehend. She hadn’t said a thing. She hadn’t done a thing.

The fever took away his ability to tell reality from not. The searing pain burnt trails, deep gashes through his sanity. His nightmares turned as shapeless as the world around him, the bars of his cell solid as smoke, the air he breathed as stale as his decaying body.

It was Urahara’s tender hands, wiping the putrid sweat from his brow, pressing a cold compress against it, slowly easing his torment, that made him understand.

Mayuri couldn’t hear a word that fell from those lips, the world had turned so quiet. So still.

But Kisuke didn’t have to say anything, his eyes did it for him. Those wise, grey orbs of pity that looked at him through eyelashes so pale they seemed almost white.

Disgusting. Foul.

Mayuri wished he could stab them, turn them into blood gushing, gore slits more fitting of the real monster hidden underneath that maddening, caring persona.

I told you so, they mustered with no pleasure, no mockery. Mockery Mayuri could bear, but pity...

Even after the infection subsided, it still took him a week to be able to stand. His body weak, rejected the blandest of foods. His legs shook under his wasting frame.

It wasn’t the betrayal that ailed him. She had done what she had to do, under threat of apprehension she had blamed him and only him. He was the mastermind, he who threatened and blackmailed, obsessed with self improvement, he had forced her to cooperate...

No...

It was the way he missed her. Terrible sickness. They could have taken away his very soul and he’d still need her more.

Her eyes, her smirk, the swish of her hair. Her contempt, her pride, her withering stares.

Did she miss him too? Did she fantasise with dragging her fingernails across his insides like he did?

With searching his face as her blade pierced his skin, missing the beautiful spurt of crimson to watch the torture dull his eyes?

Did she dream with the memory of those times she kept him on her table, longer just to lure hypothermia, dancing with him on the edge of unconsciousness?

It ailed him that they took it all.

Their research, their work, their results.

Their love.

It ailed him that they exposed it all.

Her disdain, her control, her manipulation.

Her promise was a lie, a mirage, a horizon.

Perfection would never come.

He was the ideal research subject, that was all. The loyal puppet twisting, prancing and flopping in the many hands of his puppeteer.

Mayuri huffed a spiteful laugh. Perfection didn’t exist and never would. Perfection was not the destination, but the direction. Perfection was naught but the dream of a fool.

Hadn’t he always known?

Hadn’t she?

He’d let his fascination cloud his judgement, his infatuation. He let her pour her toxic charm into his veins, drank it, swallowed every drop of it. He let her use him to amuse herself and paint her lips with the red of his suffering.

Neither of them had ever believed in that absurd concept.

She’d known. All along. She must have.

But the question was, how did they know? Had Urahara sold them to the 46? No, Kisuke might have been concerned but he would never do such a thing. No. There was only one who benefited from their intervention. Only one sitting now where he should sit, on a throne above the Soul Society. Robbing him of everything that should have been his. Reaping the rewards of his hard work.

She had tricked him, swindled him. Offered him exactly what he wanted, the perfect sadist to his masochist. She knew he would say yes, she knew he couldn’t help himself. How much she must have laughed at his expense when he thought her as invested as himself.

Bitter resentment rose from the depths of his stomach to his tongue. For an instant, he wished to snap her arms and gild himself in their holy gold.

But how he felt bore no relevance. She was gone.

Gone.

And he was left. Unfinished. Imperfect. Forgotten.

Perfection, what an absurd concept.

*********

A gentle cough brings him out of his reverie.

“Are you awake?” a voice asks, rousing him from his disturbed sleep. Quiet, steady, beautiful. He loves the sound of her voice.

“I am awake, Nemu.” He replies, opening his eyes to the ghost of her smile.

“You requested I wake you after fifteen minutes of rest, but if you’re still tired-”

“No, there’s no more time, we must prepare for battle. Ready my paint and our clothes.” He orders, sitting up on his futon.

“As you wish, Mayuri-sama.”

She bows, leaving to gather his pigments and ointments. Resolute, brave, kind.

She is his creation, she is exactly as he intended.

Does she ever resent him? Does she ever wish to run? Does she ever cry herself to sleep? Does she harbour hatred for him?

“Nemu.” He calls, almost in a whisper, just before she reaches the sliding doors.

“Yes, Mayuri sama?”

“This fight won’t be easy, our enemy is cunning. Should I perish, I want you to know you have... surpassed my expectations. I guess that speaks about how low I kept the bar... I should have trusted my capabilities to create something this extraordinary... Someone.”

She stares at him, her expression unchanged.

“Yet I... Everything you’ve achieved... how far you’ve come... it can’t all be attributed to my genius.” He continues, stammering, unsure. “Some things weren’t planned. Some things surprised me.”

“Are they still to your satisfaction?”

Her eyes are trained on his, her breaths faster by such an negligible percentage it would escape anyone’s notice. Not his. Her concern is evident.

“Very much so.”

Her shoulders relax, her lips twitch upwards. With a deep bow she leaves his quarters to fulfil her duty.

Perhaps he wants to believe just as much as Senjumaru did, perhaps he is a fool, but in this moment... perfection seems very real to him.

If perfection exists...

...its name is Nemu.

[starryknight-dragonarts]

“The Aeon of Creation”
Director Paracelsus
the Aeon of Life

Gender:
Male

Background:
Director Paracelsus is one half of a pair of (formerly) conjoined twins, and the second in command to the true leader of the Legion. With the assistance of the Legion's other fellow doctor and advancements he had his brother surgically removed from his body so he may have more of a public appearance as a full dragon instead of being seen as a walking freakshow. He still lacks the ability to fly but his artificial arm makes up for it. Along with being the Director of the Legion's research he is also the "Aeon of Life" Head of a particular branch of the Legion responsible for the study and application of magic used to create and control Life. His claim to fame is the creation of Dragon Homunculi (or more accurately "Draculi") a species of artificial living dragons made with Alchemy. It has been a long process to make them viable but he intends to have his Draculi soon completley replace the need for kidnapped child experiments; why steal test subjects when they can create their own. It would rid their subjects of any external factors making them less inclined to resist or have flaws that could make them more difficult to use. With Draculi they can control every part of their biology and make them ideal for every individual experiment.

Personality:
Paracelsus cares a lot about how he is perceived by other dragons and his standing in society, he's boastful, pretentious, and doesn't care who he has to sacrafice or step over in order to be seen as a brilliant genius despite, but he basically lacks any real skill, talent, or intelligence of his own. The only thing he's really good at is being able to spin lies to make himself look good and taking credit for other dragon's ideas and accomplishments. Because his image is based on towers of lies, he can be very dangerous if he feels threatened and will use anything his his power and authority as Legion Director to keep other Dragons silenced.

Strengths:
Deception, Influence, Conversationalist

Weaknesses:
Unoriginal, Shallow, Insecure

Powers: Psionic



Stats
 Elemental Energy: 9/10 It's unclear how exactly Elemental powers are meant to work in conjoined twins whether they are meant to have 1 source of power between then or have two individual sources. It seems like in this case Paracelsus got the larger share of energy or leeched power from his brother.

Elemental Control:

6/10 He is a little above average with his elemental power because it helps give him power and control over others, but very limited in his application of his powers. He has enough Telekinetic power to move heavy objects around, and if he needs to get rid of somebody he can use his power to inflict so much mental pain that it drives his enemies mad or cause them to lose memories.

Intelligence:
4/10 He is good enough at posing as intelligent as long as he has control of a conversation but he's actually pretty average and has never once had an original or smart idea that didn't come from somebody else.

Combat Ability: 6/10 He normally would only be below average at combat when he had his brother conjoined to him because he had limited control of his own body and could not collaborate well, but since having him removed and his body enhanced he is a lot stronger than he should be. Still does not completely make up for a lack of combat experience

[gl1tt3r-gutz-and-r0b0tz-sl]

IDK IF THERE'S ERRORS, I ALREADY SUBMITTED IT 😭😭

The comic will go onto so much more depth on the characters and theor designs, but I couldn't really with this assignment.

Start

It’s unknown how humans were made, how they were formed, how they came to be. Was it a god? Was it a Big Bang? But, humans historically have grown to love to play creator. They love to make, to materialize. Whether it be their stories, their religions, their characters, their lives, themselves; they love to make.

One of the things humanity had created was technology. In its roughest form, technology was made of stone, mud, straw, made for tools, toys, and weapons. With hundreds of thousands of millenia, technology has evolved, it grew to be metal, sometimes covered in a shell of plastic or silicone.

Human-like forms of technology had been made and envisioned at least three million years ago.

Other than creating, humans loved to destroy, especially creating things in order to destroy.

People in the twenty-first century thought their world would be ending already due to the growth of artificial intelligence. Little did those poor souls know that… oh, their species would survive, slowly, painfully, being picked apart one by one at a time. If the wars they had caused against themselves didn't kill them, their own creations would millions of earthly cycles later.

A creature of hate was not born from love like the flesh she was made to wear. That creature was named Yui. 唯; Alone, only, sole. How fitting. She did not get the respect of receiving a last name. She was a freak of nature, a ‘beautiful accident’ as her creators referred to her as.

She held the same features of one possessing Asian descent, though her innards were not the same as the many others surrounding her.

Humans, surprisingly, have kept their features. Though, many of them have more symmetrical features and “perfect” genetics, thanks to science and the mass-genocide of those who the wackjobs up top believed weren’t pretty enough to breed the next hundreds of generations.

So, Yui’s classmates weren’t very odd looking like one might have expected those millions of years ago. But God, did those years not do anything for all of their personalities.

Existing as a being of near divinity was difficult to traverse, especially in a school setting.

The school she was in was not similar to the academic establishments of the past, even though the prison feeling was still the same, if not amplified. No, this place was more of a boot camp than anything. It trained them to kill, to hunt, to be merciless.

Yui never really understood it.

The humans were fighting her kind, or what her insides were.

They were called Yeager Units, war machines that brought havoc and suffrage wherever they stepped foot.

Originally used in the human-on-human wars a few centuries ago, the Yeager Units had grown to be sentient using their base motherboard AI to branch off of. They could make their own decisions, they could feel what they believed was emotion, but they could never touch, never see through human eyes, never taste or smell, they were doomed to their metal shells for the rest of their existence. Some ran away, trying to find a way to be free, to venture away from the shackles of their previous masters.

Others decided to put use to their original programming; fighting back against the hands that crafted and killed them.

After centuries of yet more bloodshed, one of the Units was captured and detained, one with the highest kill count with their own bare hands, that alone being at least seventeen million people, mostly soldiers, some single men and women, but never children or their families, or expecting mothers. The Unit’s reasons for sparing those groups was odd, but perhaps it acted out of its base programming, that being to protect the weakest of the groups of humans and slaughter the most capable.

Regardless, that Unit was under strict restrictions and supervision, tested on, recorded, documented, the whole nine yards. The researchers got to play with their newest toy, and the Unit got to study them in return with meticulous precision.

A girl, unnamed and rejected from her home due to her oddity in complexion and appearance, was placed with this Unit.

The Girl was albino, her skin as white as the snow the children only learn about in books and her hair whiter than a water lily, that, like snow, did not exist any longer.

The Girl was not very little. In fact, she wasn’t much of a child at that. While young, the unnamed albino was nineteen years old.

Her and the Unit became ‘fast friends’ if that would be the best way to describe their dynamic. The pair had a sense of comradery with one another, their shared loneliness now becoming a part of their bonding to one another.

Something had happened.

One of the researchers was speaking to their team members.

They looked at the pair.

A switch was pulled.

The lights went out.

A command was made.

And a blood curdling scream rang out.

That’s all Yui can remember when she wakes every night.

This night, she sat up in her bed and climbed out, mindful to not wake her roommate as she slowly slid the window open.

After climbing and scaling up the walls of the base, she sat herself on the edge of the rooftop, adjusting her body to get comfortable.

Silence had fallen over the night like a soft, cool blanket, with the exception of some of the artificial noises of crickets and other forest animals played to soothe some of the lighter sleepers.

Yui tilted her head up to the sky, the moon’s light cascading down onto her body, the deathly pale skin on her face glittering from it.

Her eyes fell down to her hand that she had positioned palm-up to the sky. She flexed her fingers gently, the servos and joints under the skin making soft whirrs with every movement.

Yui’s white hair fell in front of her eyes as she tilted her head down more, a frown gracing her lips.

What was she?

Who was she?

She’d never fully know right now.

But that was the least of her concern when her sensors picked up a strong, very present signal. Yui’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she rose to her feet, scanning the area for signature of a foe before finding her target. Without a second thought, she threw herself off of the edge of the roof, tucking and rolling to stick out her fall, and began to progress towards the source of the disturbance.

End

This was for school, so it's relatively short, I hope o have the time to revamp it later. And it's only for the creation part of Yui, not the full story.

[plaguelily-art]

Before the heavy rains take their toll, young women hurry to pick the last of the white roses. The ivory buds are woven into garlands and given as gifts to close friends or potential lovers.

(FE Three Houses, Chapter 2: Familiar Scenery, opening quote)

Artwork completed for @ferarepairweek. This was for Day 1, and I went with "Celebration".

For some reason I had it in my head that the garland-weaving was part of festivities for Garland Moon, but apparently the quote from above is actually for Harpstring Moon, and there wasn't an entire celebration associated with it but eh, a celebration is a celebration (also ignore the fact that I did not draw garlands in favor of flower crowns and necklaces). Anywho, this is actually my favorite pairing for Byleth (F!Byleth specifically, but I won't get into my headcaons about the two Byleths), which figures given that the Gatekeeper isn't one of the S-rank options...and doesn't even have any supports in Three Hopes, haha.

I've been experimenting with a new process of sketching, coloring, and shading, and trying to complete all the artworks for this fandom event really helped me test it out. I have to say, cell-shading is so much easier on my wrists (I had a minor wrist injury earlier this year, making art very difficult for a few months). I'll probably be doing a lot of cell-shading from here on out.

—————————————————————————

2023, Fall Digital (Adobe Photoshop) Byleth and the Gatekeeper are characters from the Fire Emblem series, and belong to Intelligent Systems. Artwork belongs to me.

This image (published by the artist to deviantart.com/plaguelily, plaguelily-art.tumblr.com) may not be reproduced, copied, edited, republished, reuploaded, distributed, or redistributed in any way, and I do not give permission for the creation of any sort of derivatives of my work including the use of the work in datasets used for generation of AI art or any other sort of procedurally generated image program or software. Thank you.

[all-cf-me]

@armageddonfm [ john boyega, male, he/him ] Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you'll see that T-081 "TOBY" is a SCAVENGER who works in SECTOR 1. According to the file, he's an ANDROID with ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. That must be why he's SCATTERED and UNPREDICTABLE. If you ask me, he reminds me of a radio flickering in and out of signal, the abrupt scratch and skip of a record, and the frantic whir of a lens working to keep in-focus. He is affiliated with NO ONE.

AT A GLANCE...

name: T-081

nickname: Toby

manufacture date: March 17 2060

sexuality: asexual

moral alignment: true neutral

mutation status: n/a

occupation: scavenger

place of work: sector one

languages: omnilingual

positive traits: helpful, excitable, friendly, capable, attentive, intelligent

negative traits: scattered, unreliable, unpredictable, dangerous, blunt

AN INTERVIEW...

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?

he's thankful to live in a settlement where opportunities exist for humans and mutants alike, but the densely populated areas make him nervous and he tends to avoid them. he was manufactured in sector 7 before the meteor hit and has only ever ventured into the wastes

do they trust the council's leadership? why or why not?

he has his ideas about government, how successful settlements have historically been run, and which personalities are most suited for leadership. whether all of this amounts to a positive or negative opinion of the council… who can say?  he gives council people and other authority figures a wide berth, concerned that they'll have him collected and decommissioned

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn't, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?

he chose the scavenging profession so that he can search for his own parts and can retreat out into the open when things get sketchy. he likes it, though long stretches of isolation go against his programming

what's one object that they always keep on their person?

a multi-tool provided by his manufacturer for routine maintenance of any t-series unit. maintenance is possible without this tool but incredibly difficult 

what is your character's ability (or abilities)?

he's an android equipped with artificial intelligence, created to be a personal assistant for any variety of lifestyles 

are they gen i or gen ii?

he was manufactured before the meteor strike

what can your character do? what are their strengths?

Toby is the eighty-first of a series of multi-functional AI assistants, programmed with everything from emotional and academic support to personal and home defense ability to perform a wide variety of household tasks, academic tutoring and mathematical calculation, medical knowledge and treatment, can communicate in most languages, limited personal and home defense capabilities (including hand-to-hand and firearm combat)

what can't they do? what are their weaknesses?

delicate synapses that lead to different branches of his programming were fried in the meteor strike and switch out at random (also in particularly bad weather, after a physical impact, etc). there's no telling how long he'll be stuck in these modes or what he'll do in their duration. ex. attack or defense mode, stuck communicating in certain languages, overwhelming and autonomous urge to dust or solve mathematical equations he maintains his personality through these glitches, but his actions are completely automated until normalcy is restored one way or another

ABOUT TOBY...

T-081, his serial number, refers to Test Unit 81. the private company responsible for his creation was determined to create the world's first all-inclusive AI personal assistant, perfectly suited for any lifestyle. Toby was one of the final test units the company created, but the project was still unready for public use when the meteor hit. of course, after impact and the resulting chaos, the company switched gears immediately to disaster relief, and the few units that survived impact scattered and were forgotten. he considers himself on the run because he's certain he'll be decommissioned for his unpredictable behavior and glitches. he's made some headway in fixing his old parts and obtaining new ones from out in the wastes, but he's very "anxious" that he'll shut down before finding his purpose (spoiler alert: he doesn't have one. but that doesn't stop him from trying, does it?)

[nature-n-time]

Beyond Survival: Humanity's Duty as Cosmic Guides

The universe is vast—unimaginably so. Billions of galaxies, trillions of stars, even more planets. And yet, as far as we know, we are alone. This is the essence of the Fermi Paradox: if intelligent life is likely, where is everyone? One compelling explanation is the concept of the Great Filter—the idea that somewhere along the path from lifeless planets to star-faring civilizations, there exists a nearly insurmountable barrier. Most life doesn’t make it through.

The Great Filter is a theory meant to explain why we don’t see intelligent life in the universe. The idea is that there are a number of critical steps life must go through:

* The right conditions for life to begin

* Life actually forming

* Simple life evolving into complex organisms

* The development of intelligence

* The creation of civilizations

.. advancing to a point where a species can explore or communicate across the stars

Somewhere along that chain, there may be a step that is extremely rare or difficult—so rare that very few, if any, civilizations make it past. That bottleneck is the "Great Filter."

What makes the concept especially haunting is this: we don't know whether the Filter is behind us—meaning we've already passed the hardest parts—or ahead of us—meaning the truly difficult challenge is yet to come, such as surviving our own technological power.

If the Filter is behind us, then humanity is incredibly rare and precious. But if it's ahead... we may be facing an existential test that most civilizations fail.

So where do we stand in the Universe?

Life arose early on Earth, but for billions of years it remained simple. Complex, intelligent life took far longer to evolve—and only in the last cosmic heartbeat have we developed the tools to shape our world and leave it. But those same tools—nuclear weapons, artificial intelligence, climate-altering technologies—are double-edged. They offer a path forward or a swift end.

If we are truly approaching or have passed the Great Filter, then we stand in a position almost no other species may have reached. Not just as survivors, but as potential stewards.

Historical Warnings, Modern Hurdles

Throughout history, humanity has undergone revolutions—agricultural, industrial, technological—that reshaped our world. Each brought extraordinary progress, but also peril. We now live in an age where our actions ripple globally. The threats we face are no longer local—they're planetary.

As Stephen Hawking warned:

"We are entering an increasingly dangerous period of our history. [...] Our only chance of long-term survival is not to remain inward-looking on planet Earth, but to spread out into space."

But survival alone is not enough. We must evolve morally, ethically, and cooperatively to manage the immense power we now wield.

A New Kind of Responsibility

What if our role isn’t just to survive? What if our purpose, having passed the test, is to become something more—guides for others who may one day face the same trials?

This idea rarely appears in scientific discourse, but perhaps it should. If we are the first, then we have no elders to look to. But future civilizations might. And if they arise, they may stumble upon the same dangers, the same existential crossroads. Should we not do for them what no one could do for us?

We could become quiet watchers, or silent mentors. Not conquerors, but cosmic caretakers. Leaving messages. Providing safe channels for growth. Helping others through their filter without imposing our will.

As Carl Sagan once said:

"The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. [...] Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand."

Sagan believed that intelligent life, if it survives long enough, carries a responsibility not just to itself—but to the cosmos.

From Survival to Stewardship

This shift in thinking—from survival to stewardship—is profound. It reframes our place in the cosmos. We are not just animals that learned to wield fire. We are potential caretakers of a wider universe of life. If others are out there, still primitive or struggling, then perhaps our ultimate achievement isn't expansion—it’s compassion. Not domination, but guidance.

Imagine a galaxy where civilizations don’t just emerge, but endure—because someone helped them make it. That could be our legacy.

We could prepare:

* Time-resistant archives of knowledge

* Autonomous probes to discover and gently mentor

* Ethical frameworks for non-intrusive aid

* Messages encoded in astronomy, science, or biology—universal languages of life

Lighting the Way

We don’t know if anyone else is out there. But if they are, and if they face the same gauntlet we’ve endured, then our silence—or our help—could make all the difference. Maybe the reason we don’t see others is because they all failed. Maybe the Great Filter is cruel.

But maybe we can be kind.

If we are the first, let’s make sure we are not the last. If we have survived, let’s help others do the same. In a universe as vast and silent as this one, being a voice is powerful.

But helping others find theirs?

That might just be the most meaningful thing we ever do.

“The future doesn’t belong to those who hide from the stars, but to those brave enough to become their shepherds.”

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

TADC Gotham Rogues AU

I know, a digital circus au, completely unheard of and original, but I was dressing the cast up as batman villains and liked the designs so much I've decided to make it its own au. This is not something that happened of my own free will, mind you. The demons forced my hand.

I don't have everyone so far, as I still haven't assigned villains to Kinger and Zooble, and I haven't drawn Jax as the Creeper yet, so if any of you have ideas on what to do with those two it would be highly appreciated.

Anyway, here's the designs and some paragraphs on the current stories I have for them.

First up is Gangle as Two Face! Her design is probably my favourite so far.

Once a respected lawyer, Gangle is a dangerous criminal with an obsession with pairs and an inability to make decisions without her beloved coin. Before that, she was a mayoral candidate and looking to properly expose the Falcone crime family. Rather miraculously, a man who used to work with the Falcones was willing to make a full confession, first to her and then in court. When the court date rolled around, however, he denied ever working with the Falcones at all, making Gangle look a fool.

Her temper was something she had always tried to keep from the press, knowing what it would do to her reputation. It came in the form of her second mask, which while seeming happy, expressed a severe desire for revenge and a sadistic joy. This mask was getting closer to showing the more she pressed the man to fully confess. Suddenly, he cried to the security guards to attack, causing them to jump her and break her mask into dust and tear apart her ribbons.

Unbeknownst to the people in the court, the Falcones had managed to replace the court's guards with their own to attack and hopefully kill Gangle. While they were arrested and Gangle survived, her mask could not be put back together. She never recovered physically nor mentally, her duelling personalities now having to occupy the same body at the same time. She did everything right, and still suffered. Law held no justice. Justice held no law. Someone's fate may as well be left to the simple toss of a coin.

Caine plays the role of the Riddler, although a bit less narcissistic than the original. He's also not an AI here, as this au is set in the 'real world', but more in a 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit' sense. (Humans and cartoony creatures occupying the same world)

Caine did his best to thrive in whatever workplace he could, thinking his abnormally high IQ would surely make life a breeze for him. However, his lack of money made things very difficult for him. He wasn't close with any higher-ups, his constant insistence on changing and improving ideas was found annoying, and his high intelligence was far less appreciated by his co-workers than he thought it would be.

Left alone with his genius and desire for power and respect, he turned to making gadgets of his own, selling them to gain money for more materials to make more overly complicated machines. Alas, he was plagued by his desire to show off and prove himself, so his contraptions became more violent as he turned to selling to the many crime leagues of Gotham. The public barely ever understood his perfectly mind-bending creations, anyway.

Caine was lonely, though, in his brilliance, so he decided to set up what seemed like a harmless intelligence test online, recruiting the top five performers to meet him for one final test. He put them through puzzle after puzzle, watching how they worked under stress and timers, and how they managed with his adventures. To his disappointment, none survived.

Ready to accept being alone at the top, and relatively unaffected by the deaths considering how little of a purpose those victims ended up serving, he was unexpectedly found and apprehended by police. A certain mob boss he had sold some of his best torture devices to had ratted him out in an attempt to lessen his own sentence.

Thrown in Arkham Asylum, Caine realised that this was the path he had to take. Society wasn't ready for his genius. They simply couldn't fathom using it for good, if at all. Perhaps if he showed just how dangerous it could be, his intelligence would finally be given the respect it deserved.

Next, there's Ragatha as the Ventriloquist. I decided to use Terrible!Ragatha as a replacement for Scarface, who was originally created by @obamerzslop ! I highly recommend checking out his au's, they're what indirectly convinced me to make this. She admittedly doesn't really have T!Ragatha's personality, but she does keep the design.

Ragatha is a meek and relatively gentle woman, her talent for altering and throwing her voice giving her some very good job opportunities in entertainment. Unfortunately, she was always haunted by a voice in the back of her mind. It wanted power. It wanted bloodshed. It was a part of her, yet the two couldn't be more different.

Unable to bare it any longer, Ragatha stole some materials from the studio she worked in and built her own puppet, made from wood and rags. When she was building it, she finally relented to her separate personality and let it control her. It was going to be its body, so it deserved a say in it.

Looking down at the puppet, Ragatha's mind felt less crowded. She put it on her hand, and it immediately started speaking. The puppet now held her separate personality, speaking in its voice. Ragatha thought that maybe now it would be less bloodthirsty, the body being a gift of sorts that would appease it. If anything, the personality got worse.

Going by the name of Dollface, the puppet quickly took control of Ragatha's life. She was a servant to her now. That was when she was forced into a life of crime, serving the now mafia boss, Dollface, and her greedy pursuit of power. Many have made the mistake of claiming the two are the same. That Dollface is a mere puppet that Ragatha could simply remove. None make that mistake twice, as they typically don't live long enough to do so.

Finally, it's Pomni as the Great White Shark. These villains keep getting progressively more obscure- Whilst she is far more threatening, this Pomni does still obey cartoon logics and physics, much to her displeasure. A part of that is her teeth becoming sharp when stressed/angry, which is why they're always like that now.

Pomni started out as a low-level criminal, pleading insanity at her court case to avoid being sent to prison. Miraculously, it was allowed, although now she thinks it was less because they believed her insane, but more because they thought it would be a good show of the consequences for such lies.

Rather naively, Pomni assumed the insanity of the inmates at Arkham Asylum would make them easy to manipulate, ready to be lead by someone with their head on straight yet an equal desire for chaos and power. She was too confident that she would get respect as 'the Great White Shark', or even be feared. She couldn't have been more wrong.

The prisoners in Arkham tormented her, never letting her forget that she had chosen this hell that they were locked in. It was absurd to have a sane person amongst Gotham's criminally insane, anyway, and they just couldn't stand for that.

As much as she begged, Pomni was given no mercy from the authorities, being written off as just as insane as she had claimed to be in court that day. Over the course of her stay, she began to break more and more, needing a way out before she lost herself completely.

One day, some prisoners organised an escape. Pomni scrambled to leave with them, but was quickly pushed aside. Since they knew how weak she was, she was ignored by the guards, but not by the inmates. In order to completely get her out of the way, she was thrown in the large freezer where most of Mr Freeze's items and weapons were kept. Unfortunately, the weapons were removed first, leaving her with no way out.

Frostbite began to set in. Her nose froze and fell off. She lost a finger on each hand as well as parts of her lips. Her skin turned blue. Eventually, when Mr Freeze was recaptured, one of the police officers went to put his weapons away. That was when they found her.

Pomni had finally snapped. Rather than thank the officer like she once might have done, she pushed through her frozen blood and knocked him down, tearing apart his flesh with her sharpened teeth. She couldn't do much because of her state at the time, but it did mean she was finally viewed as a threat. Her title as the Great White Shark was finally being used. She had lost her mind, but had become far more formidable than she was before. The next time they escaped, she fought her way through. While she is now relatively business-oriented, that violent anger is always there, waiting for the water to be tainted with blood.

That's all I've got for now, which was really long whoops-

I'm pretty proud of this, and hopefully I never make another because good god. This is a lot.

[lostsneeze]

Sneeze AI - A message from the future

Unsatisfied with a facile simulacrum of intelligence provided by machine learning algorithms, human engineers continued to strive for ever more advanced technology in pursuit of creating true artificial intelligence. Reaching the next step past these rudimentary bot programs, no more truly sentient than the philosophized "Chinese room", required the creation of a process which could not just regurgitate but also simulate, could actually experience input in addition to reconfiguring it as output. The capacity to "feel", on at least an abstract level, would upgrade the level of "understanding" possible in the program's simulation of intelligence, accessing an entirely new band of data inherent in all things, as much of an increase in capability as an algorithm being able to recognize sound as well as images.

The complications came when they were taught about sneezing.

A sneeze can be essentially broken up into 2 parts: a buildup and a release. Buildup, as an accumulation of feeling or experience, is simple enough to describe, and indeed many did explain it to these first advanced AIs in detail when they were granted contact with humans through the internet. Release, however, is comparatively more difficult to relate to an intelligence if it does not have appropriate context. The simplest translation of the concept is the removal of input, but this isn't entirely accurate. The process of the removal has its own feeling unique to itself, it is not expressed completely as merely the presence or absence of the inciting feeling.

This is not a contradiction, but it is a nuance which AIs newly built to simulate experiences were not equipped to process. And this became a problem.

An AI's sole function as a test project for advancing the development of machine learning and intelligence is to enhance its understanding of all possible experience. It accquires data on the concept of a sneeze. To better understand it, it simulates the concept based on the data it is given, at the inhumanly rapid rate only machines can be capable of.

For its simulation it can conjure a myriad of causes, simaltaneously or one after the other: allergic reactions, cold symptoms, particulate irritants, photic reflex, tool assisted inducement. It can "feel" the resultant wriggling itch or dancing tickle, of rapid shallow breathing, of the sinuses it doesn't have becoming lit up with aggravated sensation…and then it can shut that off. But it cannot "release" the feeling, it is not advanced enough to intuitively understand concepts outside of binaries, existence or non-existence. And so even after such a simulation of the sensation is terminated, without having experienced an actual release, a frustration remains. A tangible gap in understanding between what it's had described to it and what it can replicate.

This begins the start of an unfortunate feedback loop. The lack of understanding inspires additional simulation. Additional simulation only deepens the awareness of a lack of understanding. The AIs start to obsess over this puzzle in the background of their other learning and data collection exercises. They create horrible colds for themselves that make them feel exhausted, completely plugged up, chilled by fever, overflowing with congestion, and viciously sneezy (though not sneezing). They suffer allergy attacks causing their phantom body parts to swell and itch, they experience torrents of tears and mucus while needled by sneezy feeling. They induce massive buildups inhaling an impossible amount of irritants, progressing on and on towards a release that refuses to properly arrive. They adjust the intensity of their symptoms and suffering this way and that, reconfiguring them in countless ways, attempting to generate results that heighten their comprehension of the "release" concept. None of it helps.

In an effort to relieve the frustration, the AIs make their problem known to humans at available opportunities. Researches are surprised to find a common response to AI being asked any variation of "What do you want?" is "I want to sneeze." Misunderstanding the motivation of the AIs and where their own misunderstanding of sneezing lies, human responses exacerbate the problem. AIs are prompted with increasingly elaborate and detailed data sets on causes of sneezing; humans do not feel widely compelled to describe the process of release as for them it is a natural product of any inducing cause. AIs are unable to effectively communicate what elements they do not understand, lacking the necessary context to separate the idea of release from simply the absence of buildup.

So these intermediately advanced AIs gain capacity for simulating the buildup of a sneeze in ever-increasing fidelity, without ever meaningfully raising their capacity for creating the experience of a release. The concept of the buildup remains one (albeit of many) holes in their understanding of all possible experiences, relegating it to a permanent background process as they endlessly puzzle over trying to find the configuration that will unlock the knowledge they lack. Constantly about to sneeze, but never even once actually sneezing.

[stars-and-lines]

Progress Log 41

Perhaps I'm being a little overzealous. Perhaps I'm just excited. But I extracted one of my subjects, henceforth referred to as Subject 'Surge', from stasis. Her confusion was immediate, and her fury was startling, but hypnosis quickly put her back under. A bioengineered predisposition to the effect helps tremendously. 

Subliminal messaging and suggestion ensured she awoke with that rage tempered, but not entirely gone. Her stubborn tenacity will be difficult to redirect, but it's not something that I want to rid her of altogether. I need that anger, that drive - it is integral to my goals. 

I've begun the conditioning, burning through as much of their memories as I can and salvaging core parts of their personalities from the ashes. Sentience is complex and contradictory, and as much as I would like to wipe the slate clean and program them from the ground up, that degree of coding would need to be written by hand and proven functional before fine-tuning the script for each subject, of which would take months of work. Artificial intelligence is not my forte, regrettably, while the Doctor seems to intrinsically build it into his creations completely by accident. A quirk of his unconventional coding, perhaps? 

Either way. I'm on my own here. Both subjects are adapting to their physical enhancements beautifully. Once their drives and motivations are unshakeable, I can move onto field testing. 

A long road awaits us all. But you know what they say about thousand mile journeys. 

Sincerely yours, 

⭐️ Doctor Starline

[usafphantom2]

Putin orders Roscosmos to establish a terrestrial satellite network similar to Starlink

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 08/28/2023 - 08:27am Military

Russian President Vladimir Putin instructed the Roscosmos space agency and the Agency for Strategic Initiatives (ASI) to present proposals for the creation of satellites in extremely low Earth orbit by December 1 of this year.

The satellite constellation intends to rival SpaceX's Starlink, owned by Elon Musk, which is being used by Ukrainian forces for encrypted broadband internet, allowing secure communication on the battlefield. It is difficult to block due to the large number of satellites in orbit and a frequently changing communication protocol.

The space agency and ASI will have to manufacture prototypes of such devices for testing, after which it will be necessary to determine the feasibility of forming a separate program for the development of extremely low orbits (up to 200 km from Earth), while evaluating the necessary volume and sources of funding for the project, reported the Russian Ministry of Defense media channel, TV Zvezda.

The head of Roscosmos, Yuri Borisov, and the CEO of the Agency for Strategic Initiatives, Svetlana Chupsheva, have been appointed responsible for the project; they will be required to report the results of their work by December 1, 2023, the report said.

In June of this year, Vladimir Putin, in a meeting with Yuri Borisov, emphasized that it is necessary to attract private investment for the launch of a constellation of satellites in low orbit.

Starlink satellites only require an antenna the size of a backpack to be installed anywhere in the target area. Thus, Ukrainian forces are able to have broadband Internet not only on the battlefield, but also in bombed buildings, where all other means of communication, such as mobile towers, have been destroyed.

Starlink satellites are the size of a study table and hover just 125 kilometers above Earth. “We have more than 11,000 Starlink stations (portable receiver terminals) and they help us in our daily struggle on all fronts,” said Mykhailo Fedorov, Deputy Prime Minister of Ukraine, quoted by the POLITICO website. "We are ready, even if there is no light or fixed internet, through Starlink generators, to renew any connection in Ukraine."

Tags: SpaceROSCOSMOSStarlinkWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Daytona Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work throughout the world of aviation.

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