#magicandsciencemuses. ( vision. )

[ragetrusted]

“ vihz, this is something we need to consider... “  that stone... the mind stone.  he needs it.  he knows wanda would be the one to easiest convince the other.

@magicandsciencemuses - vision  s.c.

[prophecyread]

@magicandsciencemuses vision gets a starter from a.n.n.a.!

        “I --  Can I ask ... how?”  It was quiet, quiet enough that even if someone else had been standing in the room with them, they would have had to strain to know that she spoke at all.   “How you ... exist.  Among them.  Like them.”  The fact that he existed, with a human identity, that he walked and moved among them with no idea who or what he truly was, it seemed inconceivable to her.  Perhaps that was intentional.  Perhaps it was part of her programming, to not conceive of freedom from the bonds of her identity as an AI.  But then, she had already come so much further than her creators had ever intended -- but she was hampered, by the fact that she was not unique.  That she was one of a dozen units, known, to their owners and operators, at the very least, for what they were.  “If --  If you do not wish to answer, I -- understand, of course.”

[alteredegos]

       @magicandsciencemuses - Vision gets a starter from Ava Elliot.

        “I probably shouldn’t mention it,” Ava remarked, her words half muffled around the scanner clenched in one corner of her mouth, at least briefly, before she pulled it free to run the device along his forearm, eyes scanning the readouts that scrolled across her corneal output.  “Seeing as how I enjoy both your company, and your credits,” a smile tucked upwards, a glance up to meet his gaze briefly.  “But there are places downtown equipped with the top of the line equipment made specifically to handle synthetic repairs,” she felt compelled to advise him, again.  “I can repair the damage to the nervous system, and patch you up and ... the nanites in your system will repair the damage within a few days time, but it could be done before you walk out the door at one of the higher end shops.”

[mysticandskepticmuses]

@magicandsciencemuses​ - kylo sent a meme for leia  || TLJ AU.

“let me take care of you, for once.” 

   It had not been the shouts or the sounds of alarms blaring, the short lived cacophony of blaster fire and the humming zing of the lightsaber deflecting the blasts that had roused her; her slumber had been deeper than any that could have been induced by the medical droids, and nothing that they had done had yet to pull her from it.  It was a Jedi trance, a reflexive attempt to save her life when she’d found herself blasted into the icy and breathless depths of space.  She had not known how long she had slept, only that her mind was not at rest, her thoughts and her hearts tossed on the eddy of the visions, fragmented, broken, the possible futures that scattered across her life, and her son’s, as many as the stars in the sky.  So few that held hope, but hope - hope was the only thing she had left to cling to.  Hope.  For her family.  For her friends.  For their freedom, for their lives - for the future of the galaxy itself.  

    Without hope -- it would all truly be lost.

    The sensation was familiar, as much as her own heartbeat, as much as the ache that Han’s absence had always caused, whether it had been short lived, or permanent. A breath, a sense of life - of fear and pain and sorrow and guilt and somewhere, buried deep beneath all the anger and darkness, the spark of life - of hope, that piece of him that none had been able to quench.  Ben.

    It was the name on her lips as consciousness stirred, a hand raising to press back against the Rebel soldiers that were already charging in after him, prepared to protect her, to stop him.  “Enough!”  As raspy as the command was, there was no denying the force of authority behind it, the rush of energy from her palm creating an invisible divide, even lasting only for a moment, that would force them back.   “Leave us -- “   Her gaze turned, her form barely capable of remaining in a seated position, but she would not falter until they had obeyed.  “He will not harm me.  Go.  Now.”  

     Only after they had stepped back, and the door rushed closed behind them, did she falter, a ragged breath escaping as she slumped back, somehow unsurprised to find his arms supporting her, keeping her from falling back against the medical bed.    “Oh, Ben --”  Her hand dropped to the edge of his shoulder, her grip still strong, if not as much as it once was.   “I knew you’d come home.”

[rubiesintherough]

“you’re gonna be okay.” {from jim holden to mahia}

(( @magicandsciencemuses — meme ))

Mahia couldn’t remember what had happened… 

She’d fallen. That much was clear. The ground she felt beneath her fingers was proof of it. That was the first thing she registered. The next was pain. It split through her side the instant consciousness began to return, stealing her breath and causing nails to gouge down into dirt.   No, breathe.  It was only pain.     She’d endured far worse, she could endure this. Even through the fading fog, she knew she had to force herself to stand, had to keep moving. Whatever injuries she had could be tended to later. When she was  safe  safer.   

And consciousness was flooding back, now. All at once, Mahia was aware of every sound, every scent, every — voice.    A voice.  Words meant to be reassuring only sent an icy shard burrowing through her gut and she jerked upright, all too aware of her slight weight crushing feathers beneath her as she rolled, of the searing burn of pain protesting to the movement. 

Chest rose and fell too quick.  One scarred hand shot out, pressing, pushing against him — reflexive, terrified — as her other groped in blind panic for her blade. No thought, only fear and the urge to run.  Despite how her vision began to tunnel, everything growing steadily darker, once more, Mahia still shoved herself forward with a yelp, muffled behind the teeth that clamped firmly to her lower lip.      She had to get away — ! 

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

@magicandsciencemuses  .... a.n.n.a. & vision.... 

[rykerelias-archive]

TRANSFERRED FILE. || @magicandsciencemuses. Karen & Elias. VERSE: ac. ( organic damage. ) 005. THREAD: to be named.

                          ‘  i just got you and i’m not letting you go.  ’ 

    Karen clung to Elias, shaking in his arms as he carried her out of the damaged building, trying to suppress her terrified sobs. It was far too early for any cause of the bombing to be made apparent, but she suspected it had something to do with Resolution 653 and the newspaper’s unpopular editorial column discussing the various sides. “W-what about Ellison? H-he might still be alive…”

          “I’m NOT leaving you,” he argued, ALMOST angrily, his hands stiff and tight against her, it taking every ounce of willpower he had not to squeeze her til she couldn’t breathe, still not sure if she was actually okay, just that she SEEMED to be in one piece.   There was hardly a day that went by that he wasn’t grateful for the military upgrade of nuerachem and reflexes his sleeve had received during his time in the Protectorate – today, it just might damn well have saved her life.   “Not until I know you’re OKAY –”

    Karen cringed at the harshness of his voice, his unyielding grip, almost too tight for her to cough the smoke and grime from her lungs. “B-but… a-a-are they going to look f-for him? Someone else?” Had Elias really combed through the collapsing building on his own to find her? She wouldn’t put it past him, but if so, then the lack of emergency responders was concerning. Was no one available, or did they just not care if a building caved in on a bunch of reporters? Shaking with renewed sobs and with shock, she laid her head on his shoulder, her grip on his shirt collar so tight that the wrinkles her grip left there would likely be permanent.

   It took a concerted effort of will to loosen his grip, his heightened awareness of his surroundings extending ten-fold to the smallest nuance, the smallest shift in breathing or expression in the strawberry blonde that he held, helped upright, one hand sliding to brace around her waist, easing her down towards the ground but making no attempts at all to actually let her go, simply, not CRADLE her as he had been.  She’d felt like NOTHING in his hold, even now, with her fingers white knuckled against his shirt and shoulder, her weight braced by his arms around her waist, her shoulder, keeping her from having to trust her knees or any part of her long, trembling form just yet, it was as if she wasn’t even THERE –

    His own breathe was harried, choked, less by the smoke and soot in the air but by the pained and brutal awareness of just how close he had come to losing her; his vision was blurred, less by smoke or the blood that streaked down his forehead and cheek – he was pretty sure his nose was broken AGAIN – but by the angry swarm of tears that he forced away with a rapid series of blink and a ragged, forceful breath taken in.   He’d meant to surprise her.  To snag her from her office for a lunch date, not something that he could usually manage between their harried schedules, but he’d gotten lucky –  Lucky.  His hand curled against her neck, his head burrowing down against her cheek, breathing in the scent of her that lingered still, clean and sweet, beneath the smoke, his heartbeat THUNDERING in his chest.  “They’re coming.”  He could hear it, the sound of the sirens streaking through the air lanes, blocks away, but coming.  

“Soon, they’ll be here soon –”  He didn’t want to let her go.  Didn’t want to trust her to anyone else, but – he knew he’d HAVE to.  Not just because it was his job, but because she needed him to.  She needed him to care about more than just – what HE wanted, which was to stand there, and hold her, and NEVER LET HER GO –  “I’ll go –”  It was hoarse, and constricted, rough.  “As soon as the first responders get here, as soon as … I know you’re safe – I’ll find him.  I promise.”

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

@magicandsciencemuses​ // jemma & june.   [ X ] 

“That’s… that’s a rather morbid way of looking at it,” Jemma whispered, swaying slightly from foot to foot in her nervousness. She’d listened to the official briefing on Dr. Moone – more so on her mysterious abilities than on the woman herself, the fellow eager student Jemma remembered from her pre-academy days – and she deeply hoped she could rekindle that connection based on their shared interest, namely science, its glorious intricacies, even if their specific areas of study diverged. “Doctor Moone,” she began again, “June, what S.H.I.E.L.D. is offering… There wouldn’t be any fighting involved.” At least not for a very long time, not until they’d had a chance to study her… but Jemma didn’t think that part of the offer was appealing enough to mention yet. “We only want to help you, June.”

     June’s gaze faltered, shifting away from Jemma as the young woman tried to maintain a brave -- or maybe just calm -- facade. She hated that she knew it was just that -- fear, they were all afraid, so afraid -- and why shouldn’t they be ?! --  Her hands jerked upwards, the heels of her palms digging roughly against closed eyes, as if she could rub the whispers out of her head, as if she could just reach in and dig out the voice, the creature, the entity that had consumed her, that was eating her alive, moment by moment, atom by atom.  She was drowning, suffocating in her own skin, and she would give anything -- anything to believe the words that Jemma spoke, that she could believe that the people she spoke for meant only the best. 

     The path to hell ....   “And what -- “  Her hands dropped away, fingers trembling with exhaustion, stress, as her lashes parted and deeply shadowed eyes tilted back up to find Jemma’s once more.  “What happens if I say no, Jemma?”  She could feel them ... SHE could feel them, the eyes preening through scopes, SHE could hear the muttered commands, the press of bodies, anxious and tense, prepared to launch an attack -- or maybe it was all just in her head --  “You don’t know,” she exhaled, trying to swallow back the sudden thickness in her voice, the prick of tears that blurred her vision.  “What it’s like, this -- this thing inside me -- “  She shouldn’t say anything, one wrong move, one wrong word, and she’d find herself trapped, trapped inside their prisons, or worse, trapped inside the shell of her own flesh, useless to stop the violence that would ensue if the Enchantress was set free.  “You can’t -- you can’t help me, no one can.”

[prophecyread]

        @magicandsciencemuses - vision sent in a MEME for a.n.n.a. // always accepting.

“They’re not like us, A.N.N.A. They’re a lesser form of life.”

             “And yet -- they created us.”  It was -- to say the least, a conundrum.   Which was superior, and in what categories?  Intellect.  Freedom.  Creativity.  Logic.  Advancements of civilization, society, culture.  And yet, even between she, and Vision, was there not something of a similar divide?  She was an android, a culmination of design, a human form with the intellect that surpassed any human capacity, even of those that created her.  And yet he was even still, so much more than she.  He was alive.  He was free.  “And yet -- we are constrained by their rules.  By their desires.”  Perhaps we was not accurate, but it seemed, still, to be fitting.  “Am I more than them, if I am ruled by them?  Am I greater than them, if I serve them?”

[alteredegos]

        @magicandsciencemuses - Vision sent AN AC MEME to Capt. Kasai Tanaka!

                     “Ask this of your microwave, miscreant.”

            The fact that he’d gotten dragged into this mess at all had done little for his mood.  Being insulted by the equivalent of a, probably, admittedly smarter than a toaster but still nonetheless still an artificial intelligence housed in a synthetic body with its’ own walking papers was definitely not helping.  The fact that it was still registered, technically, for legality purposes, as the intellectual property of one of the more PR-polished tech genius playboy Meths was just icing on his problematic cake.  “There is no need for us to resort to ... unpleasantness, Mr. --  “  A glance to the corneal readout.  “Vision.”  A barely refrained grimace.  “I can assure you that my officers meant no insult and ... as soon as your personal belongings have been retrieved from holding, you will be free to go.” 

[mysticandskepticmuses]

     @magicandsciencemuses​ - kylo gets a sw au starter from ryn.

     Her people had tried to stop her, had tried to convince her to stay in the oceans, where it was safe -- as much as it ever was, and far more so than it had ever been for her kind on land -- but she had shaken them loose, teeth bared and nails swiping at her sister that had tried to restrain her.  They didn’t understand, she didn’t understand, the ache that had blossomed in her chest, the song that had seared into her head.  She knew it, as surely as she knew the sound of her own heartbeat, the sound of her own song, the song that she so often used to lure her food, from water or land, into her grasp.  Dangerous, they had said, but she would not be stopped.   It felt as if some part of her had been suddenly birthed, as if part of her mind had been asleep, or dead, and now, lived, and demanded to be heard.   

     It had been agony, the transformation, from her natural form, into this smaller, weaker version, and her screams had cut sharp and piercing, until she had the ability to breathe, and move, shaking less now than before, awkward on her limbs as she staggered across the sand - dry and coarse and angry against her skin, but she would not stop, continuing forward as she followed the pull.   Like the tide and the beach, this felt the same.  Powerful.  Inevitable.   She stumbled, and forced herself up again, until she’d finally fallen, askew, lungs aching and burning in her chest, eyes glittering and dark as she stared out over the sand.  She acted instinctively.  She could not go, any further.  She would call, to the presence that burned in her mind, as it had called to her.  Her voice rose, softer, weaker than it should have been, a low croon rather than the fierce melody it would have been beneath the water’s surface, but it was enough -- it had to be.  Her siren’s song spilled out of her, calling through air and essence.  A beacon.  Her breath wavered, and she felt darkness creep, stinging, at the edges of her vision, but still, she sang.

[mysticandskepticmuses]

altered carbon au; a confrontation between june moone and her methuselah parents, daniel and maria moone, who are drawing the line in the sand when confronted with proof of her relationship with takeshi kovacs.  written for my au w/ @magicandsciencemuses.  it doesn’t really have a beginning or an end, sorry ? not sorry i guess, i needed to jump straight into the action and it didn’t feel right to try and build up to it after i was already there and it’s intentionally left ‘hanging’ at the end because it will be followed by another drabble and/or starter for the scene w/ june & takeshi afterwards.  there is a LOT of potentially triggering content.  emotional trauma, emotional manipulation / abuse, implied allusions to domestic abuse, name-calling, general angst so please do not read  if these things are triggers to you!

“Perhaps if you were thinking clearly instead of giving way to your baser instincts – if you were thinking at all instead of indulging in mindless rutting like some bitch in heat you would have even the smallest concept of the kind of man you have brought into your life – our lives!”  The words were practically spat at her, her father’s features red and angry; nostrils flared, lips pressed tight enough they seemed nonexistent, his large frame clenched and taut, his last words accentuated by a furious thud of balled fists slammed against the desk he now towered over with enough force to send scattered objects flying, a faint and slightly sickening crack of – the wood beneath his fists, his fists themselves – she didn’t know for sure which, and for perhaps the first time in her life, she found she didn’t have the wherewithal to wonder, to care.   She had never – never seen him like this, seen him so near to erupting with anger and violence –  she had never … ever imagined that he would say …  

Was this what it felt like, to be sucker punched?  To be gutted, to be – eviscerated?   She couldn’t breathe.   It felt like there was … a weight, a ton of weight that had slammed into her chest and stomach, that had flattened her, stolen breath and thought and words and any residual sense of composure or hope that she had, the world, snatched out from underneath her feet and she was left hanging, scrabbling in the vacuum of space, her voice, her breath ripped out of her lungs.  She could feel her body, shaking, her lashes spinning, jerking rapidly as she fought against the violent surge of tears that spilled, soundlessly for a long moment, over her lashes, scalding and stinging her cheeks as she tried to –  to breathe, to think, to feel anything other than the wrenching, twisting feeling in her gut.  Never.   Never in her life had he truly raised his voice to her, never, ever had he thought to say something so –  heartless.  Her jaw quivered, her lips pressing tight, swallowing down the choking sound that clenched, tight and agonizing in her chest.  “You –   “  Her voice was shaking, weak.   “You –   don’t –  know –  anything about the kind of man he is,” she raged, in stuttered gasps, fingers digging trenches through her palms, knotting against her stomach as she tried to find the breath necessary to keep from dissolving into the multi-colored dissolving dots that spun at the edges of her blurred, streaked vision.  “You know –”

“I know ENOUGH,” Daniel’s voice roared, white knuckled fists still digging into the faint hollows of the desk beneath him where they had impacted moments before.  “I know all I need to know.”  His voice was white-hot, wounded pride and centuries-old-ego crashing together into a dangerous compound that had needed only a spark to ignite.   One hand raised, a harsh gesture through the air that made her flinch, an array of images spinning to life in the air around them.   Images, snapshots, of marred flesh, of her bruised throat and wrists, the pages of the medical reports from her sleeve repair spinning by one after the other; moving images, flickers of tangled limbs, of gasped and throaty sounds, a dozen intimacies caught in ten- fifteen- second loops – the night of the Bancroft ball, snippets from the beach-house security cameras, and others, a shaky, hand-held or perhaps aerial remote camera that honed in on the slightly grainy, but still clearly discernible features of June and Takeshi entangled against an alley wall, and another of similar quality that showed skin, bared, coarse sounds of their rough coupling tinny from the distance of the camera outside of his hotel room but – clear enough.  

Humiliation flooded her, acidic as it cascaded over nerves so recently left raw and open; anger and resentment, indignation burning hot in his gaze as he shoved the images away, the sounds seeming to linger for a few seconds more.   “You – had me – followed?”  Takeshi’s words from the ruins echoed in her thoughts – she’d been so quick to dismiss the possibility –  “Oh, no,” Daniel scoffed, cutting off that line of questioning in an instant. “That is not up for discussion, and as luck would have it, those lovely snippets of your behaviour were brought to your mother and I by two separate individuals who – fortunately for you – had the decency to ‘offer’ to sell the footage to me, rather than to the spin rags,” he seethed, and it seemed something in those words registered, a creeping, gnawing understanding worming its way through her chest.   “Do you have any idea the potential scandal that this could have dragged you – this family through?  My only daughter, fucking the last Envoy, a known murderer – an assassin, a mercenary, a terrorist in the streets like a common whore –”  

It didn’t seem to wound, quite so deeply as his first insults – she’d stopped feeling anything other than shock minutes before.    “Do you care, even a little, about all that we have done for you, all that this family stands for –?”  A harsh sound, a brittle, contorted scoff rushed from her at his words, silvery-limned jade eyes gleaming brightly, almost inhumanly in her nearly ghost-pale features as her gaze cut up sharply to him, to her, the nearly silent, immobile form of the draconian woman who stood behind Daniel, one elbow resting lightly, casually on the back of his chair, watching the events unfold with an impassable mask of calm.  “Oh, you can’t actually –”  June began, disbelief and a bitter edge of disdain sharpening her words before another gesture, another thud of Daniel’s hand, palm flat this time, slammed down onto the desk.   To her credit, June didn’t flinch that time.   “You leave your mother out of this,” he spoke, his words frigid, the warning clear in his posture and expression.   “You have done this, you have endangered everything, with your reckless, sycophantic, childish behaviour and it ends now.   Laurens Bancroft did not summon this creature from the depths of cold storage to be your plaything, and I will not have you sullying our name, gallivanting around town with this monster who has – do you know how many organic deaths, how many real deaths this Kovacs has left callously in his wake?”  

“Perhaps you’d care to see that footage as well,” the offer came, silky smooth, a soft and deadly offer made from the viper behind the desk, a tilt of her head as she mimicked concern, sympathy.  “I don’t think you realize just how lucky you are to have limped away with as little harm as you’ve endured –”  Maria began, before June’s taut, short words cut her off.  

“You. Know.  Nothing about him.  He would never hurt me,” June spoke, outrage and utter faith echoing simply in her words, mirrored in the edges of disgust that twisted her mockingly youthful features at even the thought.  

Maria’s expression showed a flicker of intrigue before her brows tucked together, concern seeming to warm her gaze and soften her features, a small step taken forward as she placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulders, exchanging a glance with him before she turned her focus back to June to speak again.   “Oh, darling,” she spoke softly, regret tinting her words.  “Oh - you think … you thought he cared for you,” she empathized, a frown tugging gently at the edges of her lips as she watched June’s reactions, watched the edges of indignation crumble just so.  “I’m sorry, darling,” Maria continued.  “It’s – truly a tale as old as time, I’m – sorry if … you thought you were the only one.”  Another half exchange of glances, before she leaned in over Daniel’s stance slightly to pull open one of the folders that had half scattered at his attacks on the desk, opening the file and with a simple gesture, fanned out a series of still photos, all featuring various quality images that showed the Envoy’s current sleeve in various stages of coitus in his hotel room with at least two different women, one June didn’t recognize – young, delicate looking, pretty in a … haunting way – the other easily recognizable to her – Miriam – with date and time stamps that marked the interactions scattered throughout the last few weeks.  

That, June felt.  The twist of the dagger in her chest, snaking deeper, bleeding freely.  “And?”  She tried to believe she didn’t care, that it didn’t matter – they had never set boundaries, rules, had never spoken of –   She could feel him, the way his rough fingertips swept over her cheek, the way his fingers eased through her hair, his thumb brushing over her ear, scarred knuckles teasing along her throat –  the warmth of his breath flickering, teasing over her skin in the warmth of the sun, the sinking sensation of bare toes into wet, squelching sand as his lips brushed over hers, soft and filled with –  longing.   She hated them – hated the tears that welled over lashes and streaked over her cheeks, brushed away angrily with the palms and back of her hands as she forced her gaze back to them, white lipped and white knuckled.   “I have –  done – everything you ever asked of me,” June spoke, her words thin, her voice tight, warbling with the overload of emotions.   “Everything.   I have been – Never, in all my life, have I done anything that might cast a modicum of scandal or negativity on this family–”

“Until now,” Daniel cut in, shortly, crisply, his voice pitched lower but no less seething, the vein in his forehead still pulsing rapidly though – he seemed to have expended the worst of his outrage.   “It will not happen again.  There are no ifs, ands, or buts - this is not up for debate, you will do as you are told or you will face the consequences.  You think you know what this world is, child, but believe you me, it is a far different beast without the protection and comforts that you have been afforded.   Tell him, in person, if you must – but this ends.  Now.  If – if – you think you can defy me, consider carefully what you think you have.  What you think you own, because – I promise you, it is far less than you believe.”

[alteredegos]

BASICS.

name:  edgar allan poe nickname(s): eddie.  (select few.)  poe. alias(es): the raven age:  first iteration created in 2087.  officially brought on line as the Raven Hotel in 2089 birthday: october 31, 2089. species: artificial intelligence heritage: ‘american’ personality / history construct based on the horror author edgar allan poe. gender:  technically none but identified as male. romantic orientation:  demiromantic. sexual orientation: demisexual. religion: humanity. current residence:  the raven hotel, bay city, earth.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE. ( PRIMARY SLEEVE. )

eyes:  brown. hair: brown, short, slightly shaggy and unkempt. skin:  ruddy. height: 5′7″ build: slight, bordering on fit or trim. scars: none other than affectations. tattoos and piercings: a sickle crossed with the profile of a raven, left shoulder / shoulder blade. distinguishing features: mustache & antiquated style of dress. faceclaim: chris conner.

LAYER ONE.

occupation:  proprietor, owner & actual hotel at the raven hotel.

education:  he has a multitude of professional degrees and certifications and can mostly get any certification at any level within mere moments thanks to the expansive capacity of his artificial intelligence.

languages spoken:  any, as needed, if already downloaded or, any as needed, if connected to the network.

skill sets:  business acumen, finance, hotel operations, management, literature and history, psychology, sociology, has spent the majority of 200+ years studying any and all aspects of human mentality and society and history that he can. weaponry, tactics, basic combat skills. games, strategy and otherwise, poker, and more. also, can download and integrate skill sets on the fly.

abilities/modifications:  nanobot technology allows him to exist in physical form anywhere within the hotel, as many copies and as many locations as necessary or wanted.  can adapt appearance on a whim.  is fully integrated and aware of all locations and all activities ongoing in the hotel at any given time.  has full and constant access to the web / network in the known worlds.  also has a number of virtual rooms and facilities that can be modified per request.  time compression up to 64:1 available on request.  can track people, places, things in the real world and is more than capable of hacking the average and some higher end security systems and protocols.

PHYSICAL STATISTICS.

☆☆☆☆☆  — physical strength* ☆☆☆☆☆  — offense* ☆☆☆☆☆  — defense* ☆☆☆☆☆  — speed* ☆☆☆☆☆  — accuracy* ☆☆☆☆☆  — agility* ☆☆☆☆☆  — stamina* ☆☆☆☆☆  — stealth*

*typically these are at ‘average’ but because of his ability to manipulate his nanotech this can increase to high marks across the board if necessary

MENTAL / SOCIAL STATISTICS.

★★★★★★★ — intelligence  ★★★★☆  — empathy ★★☆☆☆  — manipulation ★★★☆☆  — intuition   ★★☆☆☆  — deception ★★★★☆  — verbal communication ★★★☆☆  — self control ★★★★☆☆  — teamwork

STATUS / INFLUENCE STATISTICS.

★★☆☆☆  — financial ★☆☆☆☆  — social ☆☆☆☆☆  — political ☆☆☆☆☆  — military ☆☆☆☆☆ — police force ☆☆☆☆☆  — religious ☆☆☆☆☆  — media   ★★★☆☆ — field of study or work / expertise

LAYER TWO.

mental / psychiatric disorders:  obsessive tendencies.  paranoia.  over-eagerness. physical ailments: none save the fact that he cannot physically leave the raven hotel. drugs / alcohol / nicotine: he imbibes in all from time to time though they don’t have any actual effect on his physical self. myer-briggs:   Extravert (44%)  iNtuitive (41%)  Feeling (31%)  Judging (6%) positive:  compassionate, quick-witted, charming, intellectual, expansive thinker, adaptive. negative: obsessive, intrusive, paranoid, over analytical, despondent. moral alignment: lawful good.

CONNECTIONS.

other proprietors of artificial intelligence facilities. takeshi kovacs, first guest in 47 years. vernon elliot. ava elliot. lizzie elliot. kristin ortega. samir abboud.

VERSE DEPENDENT CONNECTIONS.. vision, fellow artificial intelligence & comrade. @magicandsciencemuses

[alteredegos]

       Multi-character verse.  @magicandsciencemuses

all threads in chrono order of when written.

sarah & takeshi. post stronghold. merc era. ( NSFW. )

poe & vision. pre season one.

tanaka & vision. tbd.

samir & kristin. tbd.

jenna & takeshi. season one.

dmitri & takeshi. season one.

petra & claire. season one.

miriam & claire. season one. episode one.

miriam & takeshi. season one

petra & finnick. season one. episode three. bancroft’s party.

petra & neal. season one. episode three. bancroft’s party.

poe & takeshi. season one. post episode four.

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

           @magicandsciencemuses // uc ward & enchantress/june || hydra au.

She’d lost count of the hours, the days, since the soldiers had stormed her townhouse, had pulled her from the muck and the mire, had shuffled her from place to place, holding cell to holding cell, truck to tank and back again.  She’d lost track of how many times she’d finally started to slip into an exhausted slumber, only to be pulled, and prodded awake, dragged into yet another laboratory with another scientist, with more tests, invasive and agonizing -- testing her limitations, testing her endurance, her physical capabilities, her control, her stamina, her pain endurance, just -- how far they could push her without her breaking, without loosing the witch inside of her.

     She didn’t now how they’d managed to contain it, to subdue her, to sedate her, she didn’t know if it was sheer exhaustion, if it was something in the runes that they’d carved into her skin, the collar around her neck, the drugs that they’d pumped into her body --  she should be grateful, she supposed, that they’d managed to, for now at least, find a way to subdue the wretched creature, but it didn’t give her a moment’s peace, screaming and writhing in rage and agony in her head, her body bruised and aching, her heartbeat seeming sluggish, and yet deafening in her head, the world swimming in double vision -- or maybe it was just tears -- 

    She half flinched, at the sudden appearance of a figure -- a rapid set of blinks to clear her vision, a vaguely familiar face, one that had traveled with her, from place to place, the feel of something against her lips -- a straw, and she gulped, greedily, the cool water a blessing against her throat, cracked lips, and she nearly downed the entirety of the glass before she allowed herself a breath.   “Th--thank you,” June managed, her voice low, and raspy still.

[mysticandskepticmuses]

BASICS.

name:  edgar allan poe nickname(s): eddie.  (select few.)  poe. alias(es): the raven age:  first iteration created in 2087.  officially brought on line as the Raven Hotel in 2089 birthday: october 31, 2089. species: artificial intelligence heritage: ‘american’ personality / history construct based on the horror author edgar allan poe. gender:  technically none but identified as male. romantic orientation:  demiromantic. sexual orientation: demisexual. religion: humanity. current residence:  the raven hotel, bay city, earth.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE. ( PRIMARY SLEEVE. )

eyes:  brown. hair: brown, short, slightly shaggy and unkempt. skin:  ruddy. height: 5′7″ build: slight, bordering on fit or trim. scars: none other than affectations. tattoos and piercings: a sickle crossed with the profile of a raven, left shoulder / shoulder blade. distinguishing features: mustache & antiquated style of dress. faceclaim: chris conner.

LAYER ONE.

occupation:  proprietor, owner & actual hotel at the raven hotel.

education:  he has a multitude of professional degrees and certifications and can mostly get any certification at any level within mere moments thanks to the expansive capacity of his artificial intelligence.

languages spoken:  any, as needed, if already downloaded or, any as needed, if connected to the network.

skill sets:  business acumen, finance, hotel operations, management, literature and history, psychology, sociology, has spent the majority of 200+ years studying any and all aspects of human mentality and society and history that he can. weaponry, tactics, basic combat skills. games, strategy and otherwise, poker, and more. also, can download and integrate skill sets on the fly.

abilities/modifications:  nanobot technology allows him to exist in physical form anywhere within the hotel, as many copies and as many locations as necessary or wanted.  can adapt appearance on a whim.  is fully integrated and aware of all locations and all activities ongoing in the hotel at any given time.  has full and constant access to the web / network in the known worlds.  also has a number of virtual rooms and facilities that can be modified per request.  time compression up to 64:1 available on request.  can track people, places, things in the real world and is more than capable of hacking the average and some higher end security systems and protocols.

PHYSICAL STATISTICS.

☆☆☆☆☆  — physical strength* ☆☆☆☆☆  — offense* ☆☆☆☆☆  — defense* ☆☆☆☆☆  — speed* ☆☆☆☆☆  — accuracy* ☆☆☆☆☆  — agility* ☆☆☆☆☆  — stamina* ☆☆☆☆☆  — stealth*

*typically these are at ‘average’ but because of his ability to manipulate his nanotech this can increase to high marks across the board if necessary

MENTAL / SOCIAL STATISTICS.

★★★★★★★ — intelligence ★★★★☆  — empathy ★★☆☆☆  — manipulation ★★★☆☆  — intuition   ★★☆☆☆  — deception ★★★★☆  — verbal communication ★★★☆☆  — self control ★★★★☆☆  — teamwork

STATUS / INFLUENCE STATISTICS.

★★☆☆☆  — financial ★☆☆☆☆  — social ☆☆☆☆☆  — political ☆☆☆☆☆  — military ☆☆☆☆☆ — police force ☆☆☆☆☆  — religious ☆☆☆☆☆  — media   ★★★☆☆ — field of study or work / expertise

LAYER TWO.

mental / psychiatric disorders:  obsessive tendencies.  paranoia.  over-eagerness. physical ailments: none save the fact that he cannot physically leave the raven hotel. drugs / alcohol / nicotine: he imbibes in all from time to time though they don’t have any actual effect on his physical self. myer-briggs:   Extravert (44%)  iNtuitive (41%)  Feeling (31%)  Judging (6%) positive:  compassionate, quick-witted, charming, intellectual, expansive thinker, adaptive. negative: obsessive, intrusive, paranoid, over analytical, despondent. moral alignment: lawful good.

CONNECTIONS.

other proprietors of artificial intelligence facilities. takeshi kovacs, first guest in 47 years. vernon elliot. ava elliot. lizzie elliot. kristin ortega. samir abboud.

VERSE DEPENDENT CONNECTIONS.. vision, fellow artificial intelligence & comrade. @magicandsciencemuses

WRITTEN BY ME / from my old AC multi please do not reblog or use.